#I've simply forgotten how to write
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Return the Favor
A/N: Okay so I didn’t think I would be back again this quickly, but some lovely anon requested a sequel-esque to my other RWRB fic, (which if you haven’t read and would like to, is right here), so I am back to write another quick one with Alex returning the favor to Henry. Hope this one is at least sort of decent, I’m still not feeling great about my writing, but we’ll get there! Anyways, please enjoy! (P.S. thank you to everyone who gave kind words about my last fic, I was really feeling not great but all of that helped me stay motivated to keep writing).
“Wait wait wait,” Henry rushed out, trying to keep the couch in between him and Alex.
“What exactly am I waiting for?” the dark-haired boy questioned, still trying to close the gap between him and his boyfriend. Henry just sputtered, desperately trying to come up with the right words. Refusing to even give him the chance, Alex jumped over the sofa and tackled Henry, pinning him down.
“Come on, you don’t have to do this,” he pleaded playfully, the words having no real desire behind them.
“No? Because I remember you doing this exact thing to me not more than 3 minutes ago.” Alex’s face tinted the shade of pink remembering Henry’s fingers slowly taking him apart.
“Okay yes, fine, I did, but that doesn’t mean you need to return the favor,” Henry rambled out, not making any moves to really escape.
“You know, today is your lucky day, I’m really not all that big on ‘returning the favor,’” Alex started with a smirk. Henry narrowed his eyes, knowing Alex far too well to believe he was getting away that easily. “However, unluckily for you, I am very big on getting revenge, so you’re not getting away yet.” Alex’s smirk shifted into a big, cheeky grin, very delighted with himself for his set up. In turn, Henry rolled his eyes at the goofball keeping him stuck to the floor, but couldn't help but smile at his adorableness. Granted, the smile quickly disappeared from his face when Alex started rolling his shirt up. Before he had any chance to protest, he felt fingers skitter across his tummy. The reaction was instantaneous, he couldn’t keep the giggles from pouring out of him.
“Ahahahalex plehehehease.”
“Ohoho, so when I plead with you, it falls upon deaf ears and you keep torturing me, but when you do it, I’m supposed to have sympathy?” He questioned, feigning offense.
“Yehehehes! And ihihit wahahasn’t tohohorture!” Henry barely managed to giggle out, bucking his hips, trying to get the offending digits off of his sensitive tummy.
“Good, if that wasn’t torture, then this certainly isn’t. You should be just fine.” Before Henry could even think up a reply, there were already fingers pinching away at his ribs.
“AhahahAHAHLEHEHEX NOHOHO,” Henry pleaded, the laughter only rising as Alex pinched further up.
“Mmm good spot?” Alex murmured out, a smile gracing his face as he took in just how cute his thrashing boyfriend was beneath him.
“NOHOHO!” the prince screamed out, refusing to admit in any way that Alex has an upper hand.
“Oh, lying to me now, your royal highness? I think that deserves to be punished, doesn’t it?” Henry shook his head, grabbing on to Alex’s wrists, and trying to pry them away from his ribs. Alex relented and took his hands off Henry’s ribs, just to give him a little bit of a breather before continuing.
“I wonder…” he thought out loud as he reached back and experimentally dug into the muscle on Henry’s thigh. The yelp he was rewarded filled him with absolute joy and a whole new level of menacing he was about to achieve.
“Nononononono, Alex don’t you daHAHAHARE NOHOHOHO.” Henry was once again thrown into a fit of laughter as Alex started pinching at his thighs now.
“Hmm? What was that, babe? You want me to keep going? Oh even harder you say? If you insist,” Alex teased, the smile on his face mimicking that on Henry’s. He flipped around, now sitting on Henry’s hips, facing his thighs so he could have better access to his new target.
“One would think that as the First son of the United States, you would be a lot nicer, but no, you’re an absolute menace.”
“And one would think that the Prince of England would be less sensitive, yet here we are.” Henry couldn’t even respond, just lie back as his face reddened and Alex’s hands inched closer and closer to his death spot.
As soon as Henry felt Alex put his hands down, he sat up and started scribbling along Alex’s sides, hoping to deter him. Alex pinched his arms down against his sides, squealing and falling back.
“Hehehehey nohoho.” The two of them wrestled around on the floor, fighting each other for the upper hand of the situation. There was nothing but stray yelps as death spots were attacked, constant giggles from both parties, and clumsy pinching and poking at anything they could reach. By the end of it, they ended up right back in the same position that they started in, with Alex pinning Henry down.
“Now that we’re back where we’re supposed to be,” Alex commented, glaring back at Henry, “I will not be making this mistake again.” He grabbed Henry’s hands and shoved them under his knees, trapping him well. Henry just smirked at him, all too proud of his various shenanigans. He, of course, was promptly knocked off his high horse when Alex began squeezing his thighs and he couldn’t do anything about it, but beg.
“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! NOHOHOHO!” Alex just gave a little hum in response as he started lightly tracing his fingers on one thigh while swiftly pinching at the other. Henry kicked his legs out and continued his begging, even though it was pointless.
“You should really try to quiet down, people might hear you.” Henry’s face darkened another shade of red as he remembered that people outside of just him and Alex existed, and could very well be hearing him being tortured by his boyfriend.
“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU!”
“Later, definitely. But I’m having fun with this, right now,” Alex responded, cheeky as ever, not even needing to look back to see Henry’s blush deepening, once again. The two carried on like this for a few minutes longer, only stopping because Henry’s laughter had gone silent.
Alex carefully climbed off of him, and laid down beside him, kissing his crimson face.
“You okay?” Henry simply nodded in return, still catching his breath. Alex smiled at the sight beside him. Henry’s eyes still scrunched up with the huge smile adorning his face, his cheeks an absolutely beautiful shade of red. He just looked amazing like this, and Alex never wanted it to end.
“That was really mean, you know. I didn’t go that hard on you,” Henry accused, grabbing Alex’s hand.
“Yeah, I know, but I have to show you who’s top dog around here,” Alex replied in the most stereotypical, 80s douchebag voice he could conjure up. Henry just chuckled at him and leaned over and gave him another quick kiss.
“If I wasn’t exhausted, I would be proving that statement wrong.”
“Uh huh, sure you would, babe. But there’s plenty of time for that tomorrow. For now, that bed is calling… no, yelling my name,” Alex returned, already starting to stand up. Henry just eagerly followed along happy to just cuddle beside his boyfriend for the rest of the night.
#tickle fic#RWRB#RWRB tickle#Lee!Henry#Ler!Alex#RWRB tickle fic#Hopefully this is ~fine~#I've simply forgotten how to write#So we'll see#Anyways#I love them#They're so silly
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burn the straw house down
buddie › time loop › angst :/ › ao3
for my beloved @gayeddiaz
“Why the fuck are you even in this loop? This day isn’t about you.”
“Well, I die,” Eddie comments idly, not sounding as offended as he maybe should be. “Haven’t you heard? I’m always dying.”
“That’s not funny.”
Eddie shrugs, not really agreeing or disagreeing. It’s a few seconds before he says, eyes still closed, “Maybe I’m here so you’re not alone.
-
or, buck gets stuck in time, has a break down and then, relatedly, a break through
part one: burned, about to burn, still on fire [17k]
part two: explode in slow motion [23k]
#buddie#buddie fic#911 fic#it's been so long i've forgotten how to tag fic#anyway sorry this ran away from me so i'm posting the first part while grace is actually awake#nad the rest will be posted probably at like. idk 4 in the morning#*#also YES i'm aware of how funny it is that i seem to be obsessed with writing buck having a breakdown through funky time situations#im not putting a total word count bc i simply don't know it x#god i hate this fic so much
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if i stare at my austenland raris au and runaway bride raris au google docs for long enough, will they magically come forth into being as complete fics?
#i really want them to exist but i've forgotten how to write#but also i feel like conceptually both of these simply must BE#dollsome's deep thoughts
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Prompt Generator Fic #7 (Repost)
Alan + John + Angst + stunt
Alan grabbed John’s arm and dragged him to Thunderbird Three before Scott could get on the line to beg him to come home.
He couldn’t believe him, the way he’d so recklessly gambled with his life mere minutes after nearly dying.
The memories all jumbled together, John’s lifeless body hovering in the living room and then in his arms, the mooring claw grabbing at his ‘bird ready to kill him and then his brother, the old determination coloured with desperate understanding for this… thing.
And then he’d called it a friend.
“Alan, are you okay?”
A flare of anger shot through him, white-hot and leaping eagerly to devour the kindling questions in John’s eyes.
“Fine,” he growled, spitting the words through his teeth. “Strap in.”
John wavered, either unwilling to let the fury slide or uncertain of how far he could push.
Alan didn’t know nor did he care.
“Hurry up,” he barked, infusing Scott’s most serious commander voice into his own.
John strapped in. He glanced uneasily over at Alan, staring firmly at the panel as he ran through engine checks.
His expression soured at the alert that beeped relentlessly as he examined the fins that stabilised their landing.
“It’s knocked it off balance.”
“She,” said John automatically.
Alan scowled.
“It,” he said, ugly emphasis painting his contempt, “has just ensured an ocean landing. There’s no way I can land her in the round house.”
“She didn’t mean t–”
“Yes, John, it did!”
Alan whirled around in his seat, glaring at John.
“Listen to me, she didn’t–”
“No, you listen to me. It tried to kill you, it tried to kill me. It stopped us from saving people today, just to play at some twisted game of vengeance, but–”
“That’s not what she was doing!”
Alan barrelled on, spurred by the image of John’s dead body floating behind his eyelids.
“I don’t know what kind of stunt you were trying to pull there; you were gambling with your life and now it’s a friend?”
“It was a calculated risk.”
“It was stupid,” insisted Alan. “What if it had been me in there? Or Grandma? Or… or… Scott?”
“I would have made the same decision,” said John firmly, but Alan could hear the creeping undercurrent of doubt and pounced on it.
“You’d have risked our lives on a hunch that the thing that spent quite literally all day trying to murder you?”
“No! I mean, yes! That is…” John dropped his head in his hands. “It’s not that simple, Alan.”
“Yes, it is!”
“I’d been studying her since Japan, I knew she was scared, I knew she only wanted to play.”
“She was playing with your life! I would have had to take your body home and that’s if she didn’t kill me in the attempt as well.”
He swiped at his eyes, revulsion clawing its way up from his stomach.
“Did you think about any of us when you said it?”
John flinched.
“I just… I had a feeling,” he said lamely.
The words were a hollow comfort, falling limp in Alan’s lap, and he swallowed back a hard lump that choked the furious response he wanted to shout.
“A feeling’s not much to go on,” he said instead, willing John to hear him, really hear him.
John’s lips quirked.
“Sometimes a feeling…is all we humans have to go on.”
There was no calculating the odds, no level of certainty about how EOS would act in the future. John was right about one thing – she was no mere computer programme. Alan knew what to do with computer programmes. EOS was an unknown entity, that John was trusting with his life and more. He couldn’t trust it, no matter what John said. And so, he was forced to ask himself a harder, more foundational question.
Did he trust John?
John snorted, leaning back in his seat as he scrubbed at his face.
“I’m not sorry, you know,” he said quietly.
Alan looked at him, eager and earnest in a way he’d never seen before, caution thrown to the wind and preparing for a battle to keep his new… pet.
He didn’t trust her, and nobody would fault him for it.
But he trusted John.
“I know.”
#alan tracy#john tracy#sometimes i fic#thunderbirds are go#i simply think eos causes the first major fallout between alan and john#and i've always wanted to sit down and write it properly#also how could i resist some star trek lol john and alan watched it together like that's just facts#if you see this tag: annoy me because i've forgotten to schedule the rest lol
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dfhaskdfjsdkf good day 😭
#🌙.vents#i don't remember sleeping this long i think i woke up 12 then 2 then#5. i wld've slept for longer if i didn't force myself to get up n i think the milk tea helped wake me a bit#i'm so..#the burden of my regrets r so suffocating. there are times i can't see anything else when i'm drowning in them.#if such trivial failures affect me this much then how tf will i survive in this cruel world?#i know i'll always find my way but i wonder the lengths of what i sacrifice. of what i deny and destroy within myself#& of how it'll affect me in the unforeseeable future. of what more loss and pain it'll bring in this world#compared to before i don't often put up a mask anymore. even if it's painful i choose to be authentic. i've improved in that sense#but it's not enough. perhaps i'm simply too harsh on myself; forgetting i am human and that i falter too. i'm not perfect n i shouldn't be.#even with my shortcomings there r ppl that stay. that say thank you. and. yeah. yeah.. that should be proof enough of real reciprocation#but.#i don't know am i really just so afraid of being forgotten? left behind? thinking of it n i used to write of that fear often back then#opening up to 'friends'. being told i was loved. that i would always have my place here#this is pathetic i grew up relying too much on success for my worth. i know i'm so much more but#i placed this on myself. this is the ocean i chose to drown myself in. so when i falter in the only thing i grew up being good that#bcs it hurts yk i used to draw. i painted a lot as a kid but what happened to that passion?#i used to write. a lot. but these past few years.. i don't know what's wrong with me. why it's so hard to do that again#piano. if i continued i would have.. i really had the potential to be. good. i mean i#i've never been a genius i've honestly always hated being called that. i know i've always been naturally smart but.#my hard-work carried me further. and i'm not.. smart enough or good enough to be a genius. never have been.#hollow compliments. before hs it was like everyone really just knew me for my brain. nothing of the way i wrote or my passions. just smarts#so now i'm just a shadow; a ghost of who i used to be. in that aspect at least. but. now w my other strengths they've been faltering too#i'm sorry i should've been better i should do more i know i can. but maybe i. i've always overestimated myself#i think when i was around 6-8 before grade school i can't really remember anymore but there was this competition i think#i would've gotten second if i didn't hesitate. if i didn't fucking hesitate. n i think that always stuck with me#bcs i was really quite the timid shy kid. even though i was older i wld be the one following apollo.. i'm sorry. they deserve more than me#bulbel is making me cry bye wtf
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Thirst Trap: Caught Desperate
Fandom: My Hero Academia,
Warnings: Smut, Prone Bone, Spanking, Pictures - Consensual.
Word Count: 4k.
Summary: Read the Intro -> Here.
A/N: Idek what the fuck this is. I've genuinely forgotten how to write - smut especially apparently.
-> Part of the 'Thirst Trap' Collab.
Make sure to check out the other incredibly talented authors through the link above and don’t forget to leave a nice comment and reblog if you liked their work!
The first thing he feels is panic.
His phone won't stop. It vibrates against his palm, stirring up a numbness that radiates through his callouses as the screen flickers. The near constant updates create a blur he can't follow, the dull flashes summoning a sharp edge to the headache that has already started to press at the sides of his skull.
Fuck. He sighs, digs a knuckle into the corner of his eye and brackets his hand across his forehead. His PR team might actually murder him for this one.
Prodding at his screen, he manages to slow the endless roll of his feed. The replies are positive, mostly. His fanbase isn't exactly small and, according to the last PR meeting he was forced to attend, they were also predominately women. Although, looking at his phone now, he'd say the divide was probably about 50:50.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he scrolls...
The first few replies he sees are simple enough: suggestive emoji's, notes of amusement, the odd heckle about the size of his cock. Then, there are the more fun ones: the ones calling him a slut, asking to give him more than just head or being up front with their solicitations.
Huffing out a breath, he unfurls, spreading out on the bed and stretching an arm up behind his head. His pants are still unbuckled and pulled to the broadest point of his hips, a casualty of his drunken state. Underneath, his cock presses against the denim – twitching with every mention of the things his fans plead to do to him.
He shouldn't.
He knows its wrong.
Knows that he shouldn't indulge himself.
He shouldn't be thinking about fucking his fist to the thought of an anonymous stranger drooling down his balls, his cock bulging from their cheek, holes stretched out around him as he rolls his hips searching for the thing inside of them that'll make them scream.
His hand cups his pec, broad palm circling gently until he can catch his nipple with each slow pass. It's surprising how quickly his cock catches on. He can feel it leaking, soaking through patches of his underwear as it begs to be released. Letting his hand slip down his body, he feels the tension shake in his abdomen. He's wound tight, muscles shivering even under his own touch as he sinks his hand into his jeans and finally, squeezes his cotton-clothed cock.
He should stop.
Fuck, he should just delete the tweet and get a glass of water.
… And maybe a cold shower.
Licking over his teeth, he's reluctant when he slips his hand back out of his jeans and slams it, somewhat sticky, against his sheets. His cock protests, throbbing with the new lack of friction after being granted so little. It makes it hard to focus, the rolling pit in his stomach, the pulsing of his body – even without his alcohol impairing his judgement, his desire pleads a strong case for him to simply submit.
Bakugo swallows and moves to swipe away from the possibly career-changing tweet on his screen, but the feed is faster than he is.
It isn't the message that catches his eye, not at first anyway. No. It's the username. Your username.
He clenches his jaw.
Immediately, you fill his senses. It had barely been a few hours since you'd had your arms wrapped around his neck, your bodies pressed together as you swayed on the dance floor. If he tried, he swears he'd still be able to feel the soft skin of your thigh grazing against his fingertips as his hand had found its way under the edge of your dress. Your perfume had been intoxicating. A subtle mix of vanilla bean, sandalwood and your sweat had drifted from your collarbones and infested his senses, luring him right to the edge of what he'd known would get him into a whole heap of shit.
That was before he'd made that fucking post, of course.
Now, he was starting to wonder if taking you home would have been the right move all along.
His promises be damned.
Chewing at his lip, he lifts his thumb, revealing the message attached to your name. 'Thought you said you weren't that desperate, huh.' His stomach lurches.
The memories come quick then, fighting through the fog of too many whiskey's and regret.
He'd meant it as a joke, he really had, something to give him some pace, to make you think twice, think of the consequences – but he's never been good at managing his tone and at almost midnight even his belligerence had felt semi-formal. You'd been too close, too pretty, with the promise of a night he wouldn't be able to forget laced between your teeth and he'd... Well, he'd done what he does best.
He'd pushed you away.
Your eyes shine in the dull lights outside of the club, the yellowing tinge spilling from the surrounding lamps doing nothing to diminish how stunning you look. The alcohol has blown out your eyes, swallowing your iris' almost whole – although, he'd like to think he had a hand in how truly taken you look right now. His hand is on your waist, equal amounts keeping you close and at bay as you bat your eyelashes prettily at him and pout.
'C'mon...' You press close, hand searching the expanse of his chest. His heart thunders underneath, picking up whenever you near his pecs, so you slip a had over his shoulder and use his height to ease yourself up onto your tip-toes. 'You've practically had your hand up my skirt all night, what's stopping you now?' You chuckle, clicking your tongue against your back teeth.
Bakugo's snarl twists his features before he can stop it. He can feel the barb, feel the world curl on the back of his tongue before he can do anything to stop it. It tumbles from his mouth, but even despite his attempt to spit it out softly – hoping it won't hurt too much, your nose wrinkles.
'You really think I'm that desperate?'
It's like you've been slapped.
Your hands tense on his shoulders, feet falling back flat to the floor. Part of you knows he's just trying to get a rise out of you, but you're beyond sick of the back and forth. It's been months of this, of you getting close enough to taste him only for him to retreat at the last moment, usually with a snarled comment he doesn't mean, or some silly excuse to protect that softly-beating heart everyone swears he doesn't have. Sighing, you step back – the tap of your heels like gunshots on the pavement as you raise your bag from the crook of your arm and back onto your shoulder. 'Obviously not.'
Your distance reads like rejection, burns a hole in his pride and makes him prickle. He shakes his head and slips his phone from his pocket intent on ordering his own taxi, despite the fact he can barely make out the squiggles he hopes are words. 'Fuckin' knew I shouldn't have let Red bring you-.'
After that the memories grow hazy.
He remembers how you'd somehow smoothed over the hiccup in the conversation, laughing it off in all probability, but even then, you'd never quite come as close to him as before. He remembers your laugh. Remembers how the melody of it had ricocheted around his brain in the taxi ride home. He remembers missing your warmth. He remembers the flash of guilt, his half-hard cock and drunken brain at war. He remembers his phone, the screen a pale blue, glowing. He remembers, he remembers his thumb hovering over your name.
He remembers chickening out...
Fuck.
Evidently, he hadn't chickened out hard enough.
Clicking onto your page, he checks your replies to make sure he hasn't hallucinated your response, but before he can even begin to obsess over it – his phone pings in his hand.
It's a message. A real one. Not something filtered in through his socials. With shaking hands, he opens it and pauses.
He has your number saved under your first name.
Just your first name.
Not 'Sidekick''. Not your full title. Or what department you work in. You don't even have a stupid moniker. For fucks sake, he's called Kirishima 'Shitty Hair' in every single phone he's had since high school, and Todoroki has remained solely Todoroki – even despite the fact, both him and his father share the title.
He doesn't dwell on the reasoning.
Instead, he opens the message and is immediately confronted with a screenshot of his tweet. He cringes. Your reply is underneath it, racking up too many likes for his taste, and underneath that is your text.
You: 'You really are fucking desperate, aren't you?'
He waits, palms sweating, watching as three little dot appear and disappear and then, reappear again.
You: 'Can't even reply to me?'
You: 'You could at least turn your read receipts off. I can see you reading the messages.'
You: 'For fucks sake, Bakugo?'
His pulse quickens, thrumming strong and rhythmic under his skin as if to remind him what it is to be near you. The joints in his fingers have frozen, despite the energy rushing through his body demanding movement. Through the haze of his vision he sees you typing again.
You: 'Can we stop doing this now?'
Yes. Bakugo thinks. God, yes. The room spins as he cranes his neck down at his phone, eyes unfocused... His heart and cock war on, but now, the alcohol makes it far too easy for the tide to sway. Flexing his thumbs, he taps back a message before he can think better of it, before the noise of his life and expectation and the world outside can eat away at him again.
Bakugo: 'Please.'
Your reply takes a second this time, forcing the air in his lungs to crystallize; but before he can drum up too many doubts, there's your name again lighting up his screen.
You: Is that the great Dynamight saying please?
Bakugo: Fuck off.
You: Fuck off, or fuck you?
Bakugo's cock twitches in his jeans. He's so hard it's almost painful now, causing an ache to spread up the deep lines of his hips and radiating through his pelvis. Reaching down, he palms at himself again feeling the heft of his desire in his palm. He types back, one handed, the other already occupied.
Bakugo: Don't play with me. You know he'll kill the both of us.
You: I never did get to give you your birthday present.
Furrowing his brow, Bakugo is taps out a series of question marks – unimpressed with the idea of birthday cake when he had come to expect something a whole lot different, but before the thought can fully depress him – another message comes through.
It's a screenshot. The one this entire conversation began with – his own message glowing from his screen. Except this time, underneath is a message that makes his breath catch in a whole new way.
You: 'This offer for everyone, or just everyone who isn't me?'
Bakugo: You.
Bakugo: It was just for you.
Bakugo stills, his breath jammed in the back of his throat as his brain catches up with his fingers.
Fuck.
He shouldn't be doing this.
He should of just had a wank to all of the filth being sent from his fans. Even that would get him in less trouble than this. Part of him wants to back out, wants to claim a hack or come up with some other equally unbelievable and shitty lie so he can turn tail and run, but there's no way back now. He knows that much. His cock is hard and heavy between his thighs, his drunken mind too far from sober for him to see reason.
He types back.
You don't bother changing. You'd dressed to impress after all. Instead, you snatch a condom from your brothers stash tuck it into your bra and order a taxi, checking the address Bakugo had sent you three times before finally confirming the ride.
The journey is short and sweet, filled with anticipation and the soft jazz that trickles through the radio of the car. You've been waiting for this, grown tired of the will they won't they that had lead to this moment, but now it's here, you find yourself: nervous.
The car mounts the curb, almost sending you sprawling, then a tenner and a lift ride later, you're at his door.
He opens it before you knock looking a little more together, but still drunk. You can feel it too, the alcohol still flooding your system and making everything just a little easier. Still, nothing is as easy as coming together. You mouth drops open, an unspoken question lingering on your tongue and then, Bakugo is on you.
'C'mere.' Using one hand, he hooks it around your waist and tugs at you to him. Your bodies collide, palms coming up to rest against his chest as you peer up at him. He doesn't know how he's resisted you for so long, how he's kept true and stopped this. After all, looking at you now cradled in his arms, it is obvious this was nothing, but inevitable.
Your lips come together easily. The kiss is harsh, full of pent up tension and a longing that has broken you both. He nips at your bottom lip before you flick your tongue against his teeth, tasting him properly as he lets you in.
'Holy shit.' Panting, you claw at him – your hands are everywhere: at his buttons, his chest, wrapped in the chain circling his neck. He pays you back in kind grabbing at your hips, taking handfuls of you with an eagerness that radiates through his entire body.
With an unceremonious grunt, he bends at the knees, slipping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up against his waist. He pulls back a slither, blinking at you, his shoulders straining at he takes your entire weight with ease and presses you into the wall of his hallway. A wicked grin takes his lips as you squeak, arms and legs wrapping around him to cling on. 'Hang on.'
He kisses you again then, pressed to the wall, but before you can catch you're breath he's off. You make a stop at a small counter where he presses his clothed cock to your cunt, letting you feel just what you're getting yourself into and again at the wall outside of his bedroom. There he almost leaves your neck raw, biting and sucking, but never enough to leave too much of a mark.
You stumble into his bedroom still cradled in Bakugo's arms. There's sure to be bruises on your elbows, a symptom of attempting to peel him from his shirt while he careened through the doorway, but as your back hitting the bed and Bakugo hovering over you, you find it hard to care. Reaching into your bra, you slip out the condom with two fingers and present it to him by waving it under his nose.
Taking it with his teeth, he grins as you let out a sigh that settles in his bones. Beneath him, you look insatiable. Your eyes have blown out, the black of your iris' banishing whatever colour had once been there. The dress he'd been so anxious to get under all night is rumpled, the slit cast aside exposing the thickness of your thighs and a slither of cunt covered by a pair of soft-looking red lace. The bodice is low, the heaving of your chest apparent – your tits held high, pressed together and begging for his hands. Slipping a hand up your thigh, he brushes his fingers across the flesh and earns himself the most pretty of moans.
'I knew you'd break.' Lifting your leg, you kick out at him softly – the ball of your heel connecting with his shoulder. You perch on your elbows, eyes swollen, the pulse of your cunt matching the beating of your heart. It's been rough until now, a clash of teeth and nails, but its hard not to notice the bare desire you see splayed out in his eyes. It's mixed with carmine, a colour that barely covers what, if nurtured, could become love. 'Knew I'd have you.'
He grabs your ankle and pulls on reflex, yanking you down the bed. 'Did you?' Under his skin he feels feral. Something that's only made worse when you lick your lips and nod.
His restraint snaps. Grabbing at your hips, he kneads the fat there before flipping you over. You bounce, a scream escaping your throat, but he quickly transforms the sound into a moan with a harsh slap against your ass.
'Thought you wanted head?' You laugh, feeling your skin prickle under him. There's a rustle behind you, the tell tale sound of him shucking down his jeans and then, his fingers are pulling your underwear away from your cunt and exposing you to the air.
'You always this much of a brat?'
You wriggle and lift up your hips. 'You always this hard for me? Oh wait...' You chuckle. 'You are.'
A growl rumbles in his throat, but it's not anger he's feeling. Taking his cock in his hand, he gives himself a cursory pass – the stickiness of his own pre cum making it easy. His head rocks back on his shoulders. With a bottle of whiskey still coursing through his vein's he's more than sensitive, the simple passes of his hand having him ready to blow – God only knows what the feel of your cunt will do to him.
'C'mon... Fuck me, forget the condom – just -.' Reaching behind you, you attempt to grab at him – to pull him close, get him to touch, to taste.
Chuckling to himself, he bats your hand away easily. 'Nah-ah-ah. Don't think you deserve me raw, sweetheart. Only good girls get that.' He squeezes the base of his cock, stopping a premature end as he tears through the tinfoil of the condom and slips it on.
You go to whine, to kick your feet and protest him not giving into you, but you're not even given the chance.
The first thing you feel is impossibly full. The next is overwhelming pleasure. Bakugo hadn't wasted time prepping you and to be honest, you hadn't needed it. You're soaking, cunt dribbling greedily onto his mattress – like you haven't been waiting forever for this moment. You arc your back, one hand fisting his bed sheets as the other curls around the wrist he plants beside your head. The pace he's set is brutal, each thrust pushing deeper inside of you, taking you as he pleases as you cling on and submit to it.
'Where's the cheek now, huh?' He pants. Honestly, he's surprised he's not cum already. Your cunt milks him, squeezing him so deliciously that he doesn't think he'll ever find anyone better.
Then again, he know what they say about forbidden fruit.
''m sorry.' You moan, back curling as he fucks you harder. It's pathetic how he's barely given you anything and yet, you're already creaming around him. Your body begs for release, teetering you on the precipice of ecstasy as he uses you relentlessly.
'No your not...' Bakugo chokes out, teeth bared as he clings to the last threads of his control. Your tight now, too tight to not be close and if the way you're moaning and almost drooling onto his bed is anything to go by – he's not wrong. Leaning over you, he licks a thick stripe up between your shoulder blades before resting his lips by your ear. When he speaks is a growl, a command that comes from deep within his chest. 'Touch yourself... C'mon, show me how pretty you cum.'
You don't need telling twice. Forcing your arm beneath you, you draw quick, awkward circles on your clit and have to remind yourself to breathe. Your orgasm hits you like a train. Every muscle in your body tenses, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the high continues to roll through your body. It feels like a millennia until you come back again, until your limbs begin to feel under your own control and you become aware of Bakugo still frantically prolonging your high.
'Shit, shit, shit...' Pulling out, he ignores your protests before quickly rolling off the condom. It takes a singular pass of his fist before he cums, a grunt thrown from his chest as he releases himself over your ass. His mess is sticky, a pearlescent sheen that drips between your cheeks and onto your raw cunt – your clit still twitching.
In a moment of madness, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the scene. In it, only the edge of your dress can be seen, coupled with the most distant droplets of his spend as it decorates the skin of your thighs.
'Post it.' Craning over your shoulder, you hiss at the new soreness in your limbs as you roll onto your back. You tilt your head, signature mischief returning to your cheeks. 'Got to let those fan girls know you've already being taken care of...' You flash a smile. 'And I'd really hate to see your DM's right now.'
Against his better judgement, he tosses you his phone. 'Knock yourself out.'
It's almost six in the morning when you finally settle for bed. You'd gone another three rounds. Once in shower, over the vanity in the hallway and then, again in his bed and each time had seen both of you aching and sore and more than pleased with yourselves. You'd posted the picture and Bakugo's phone hadn't been quiet since – not that you minded. It wasn't like anyone could really tell what it was. The lighting was awful, the image blurred and you'd cropped it so there was no chance of anyone figuring out who you were.
Still, the idea of it stirs up something hot and heavy in your stomach.
You'd laid your claim now.
'I will never know how you're such a demon when you're brother's a God damn golden boy.' Bakugo's breathing has just about leveled out, you hand rising and falling in a more subtle rhythm where it lays on the center of his chest.
You wrinkle your nose. 'Can we not talk about my brother while I can still feel your cum dripping down my ass, please.'
Bakugo chufs, but relents. His thumb rubs soft circles in the skin of your shoulder, a gentle beckoning to sleep as both of you watch the sun rise and fill his bedroom window with a brilliant orange. 'Stay?' He kisses your forehead. 'I'll make you breakfast.'
Nuzzling into him, you're about to agree – mind already reeling at the possibilities of Bakugo's cooking and another round at a more respectable hour – but, all thoughts cease when Bakugo's phone pings with a message.
'If this is my fucking publicist you can explain yourself.' Bakugo tuts, but there's still a warmth in his smile that betrays his annoyance.
You giggle. 'Happy to.'
Flipping over his phone in his hand, Bakugo's mouth drops open when the screen glows to light his face.
There's only one message on the screen.
And it isn't from his publicist.
Shitty Hair: 'Really dude, my fucking sister?'
#bakugo smut#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#mha smut#saturnsorbits#saturnscribbles
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MI AMOR — p.jongseong
PAIRING: jay x fem!reader GENRES: smut, slight fluff WC: 3.8k+
WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up and do it carefully), little plot, a bit of swearing, slaps on the skin, mention of hanging, lmk if i've forgotten anything.
NOTES: my first smut on this account, finally? i confess i'm not happy at all because i tried to get out of my bubble and fulfill some requests. after a long time i'm back to writing this so please be nice because it's not something i usually write. i've done and redone something for jay countless times and this was the only time i found myself (somewhat) satisfied with the writing. let me know what you think, these feedbacks are always welcome and help me to produce more and more. i hope you enjoy it!
masterlist
The cold climate of the city contrasted with the warmth of the whisky Jay had drunk a few seconds ago. The slight burn in his throat made him wheeze as he drummed the glass in his fingers.
Arms resting on the table, tired eyes looking around and listening to the middle-aged man with his Spanish accent talk about everything that involved money to him.
It was banal, and uninteresting that Jay was listening to all this while the men laughed at completely idiotic jokes and drank more of their expensive drinks.
"Are you tired, chico?" he asked, catching Jay's eye and he looked up at the man.
Now everyone else was talking about something while the oldest of them was looking in Jay's direction. He gave a quick smile, raising his glass and showing that he had finished his whisky.
"I'm just trying to pick things up…"
"Yes, I see" he came around the table to sit next to Jay, "You don't want to take over your father's things, do you?"
Jay really didn't want to. Being in that environment was not at all what he imagined would happen to his future. Of course, he knew about his father's business, he knew how much money he had and what he did to make it happen. But Jay simply didn't want to be part of it, not when he hadn't asked to be there.
"I assure you it will be quiet, I promise to take care of you" the man's sentence was interrupted by knocks on the door. Slight, but he managed to hear it and nod to Jay as he momentarily turned away "Mi hija."
Jay didn't want to turn around so abruptly because he knew who it was, but it was impossible not to look in your direction when he heard your voice. He'd be lying if he said he'd only accepted that damn meeting in the middle of an even worse week just because he was going to your father's house. Anyway, he'd find you and here you are.
"Hi, papá. I was wondering if you'd finished the meeting" your Spanish accent was much better than your father's, that's for sure. Jay loved it.
"Am I keeping him too long?" your father asked, making you roll your eyes as the older man made room for your figure to appear in Jay's field of vision.
He shuddered as soon as your eyes met, you looked beautiful. Like never before. And it wasn't anything fancy or anything like he always used to see when his parents got together. You were wearing simple, completely casual clothes and your loose hair gave your figure even more comfort.
"I don't think you can leave him there knowing that he doesn't feel comfortable" you said afterward, still looking at Jay as you beckoned him to come closer.
And he did. He didn't want to listen to any more of those men while you were calling him in such a graceful and unique way. The boy's feet just moved towards you and stopped close enough to you, still remembering the figure of his father next to the two of you.
"Can we continue this conversation later, Park?" your father asked, his voice serious but not at all angry.
"Of course" Jay greeted him and waited for you to leave the room before following behind you.
A considerable distance in that huge corridor as the footsteps headed towards the elevator. Once your father had closed the door and the two of you were waiting, Jay finally managed to slip one of his arms around your waist and pull your body against his. Your back pressed against Jay's chest, your hand on his arm sliding down to his hand resting on your stomach.
"How did you know I was here?" he whispered between your hair, his lips moving down to your neck and placing a kiss there. That gave you a slight shiver before you pulled away from Jay as soon as the elevator arrived.
The two of you entered and you quickly pressed the button to the first floor to get out.
"I saw your car in front of the mansion" you said so simply that he didn't have anything to say.
Jay hadn't parked thinking you'd recognize him. He had the perfect plan to text you and ask you to meet him in front of his house because he would already be there. But you found him first.
"So you recognize him?" Jay joked and hugged you again, this time facing you and placing a kiss on the top of your head.
"Impossible not to recognize him when we've lived through so much in there, mi amor."
He laughed out loud at your response, but knowing full well that it was all true. Being with you in any corner of the house, his car, or the city, had a little piece of you both. There were memories that you both shared, with Jay between your legs or with the marks of your mouth all over his body. Jay wanted to remind you of him in every way.
"Come on, I'll get you out of here" he intertwined his fingers in yours as the elevator opened, quickly leaving and heading for his car.
"And where are you taking me?" you asked. Your hands were still intertwined with his, but you didn't let go until you reached Jay's car.
He unlocked and opened the door for you, letting you in on the passenger side while he quickly turned around to get in on the driver's side.
"You know the mountain overlooking the sea that Sunghoon mentioned last week?" Jay glanced at you as he started the car and pulled out from where it was parked.
"That he went with his girlfriend? I think I know" you tried to remember, knowing that he and Sunghoon talked about a lot of things and even if you knew them all, it was always good to try to remember.
"We never had sex there, did we?" you almost choked at Jay's sudden question, glancing up quickly when he felt your gaze on him, laughing as you imagined the horrified expression on his face. But he had to pay attention to the road in the meantime. "Answer me, mi amor" he slid his hand up your thigh, squeezing it even though the restriction of your pants prevented him from touching your skin.
"Never" you replied.
"Good" he managed to look at you for a few seconds, squeezing your thigh even tighter before turning his attention back to the road.
That would be another place you and he would claim, as you had done with almost every corner of the city you had visited together.
The contact of Jay's fingertips with your skin sent shivers throughout your body. He took all the time in the world with you, from taking you to the back of the car to undressing you slowly while you sat on his lap, kissing you just as slowly.
In those moments when Jay felt he needed you even more than usual, it was good to be able to enjoy every little moment you could.
The view of the mountain had been forgotten the second you both jumped into the back seat, knowing that the real journey there hadn't been the view from outside the car. You two could do that later, perhaps.
Nibbling on Jay's lower lip, you heard him hiss softly at the slightly better contact between the undersides of both your bodies after you'd got rid of your pants and were down to your underwear.
He loved feeling you. He loved everything you were capable of doing to his body and that's because the two of you were only kissing at the moment, but Jay felt so aroused that the tightness of his boxer shorts was beginning to show.
"I missed you so much" he whispered after a while in silence.
The breeze outside was the only sound apart from the kiss you two shared. You smiled, moving your face away from him enough so that Jay could look at you in the dim light of the night.
Your beauty was unreal. He couldn't tell you how lucky he was to be able to have you with him and call you his girlfriend. Jay knew that you were worth more than any money his father could have made from those businesses.
Making millions, leading things he didn't even want to know about, none of that compared to having met you. The scenario itself wasn't the best, you were his father's business partner's daughter, but seeing you at a fortnightly party while you blew off every man who came your way made Jay sigh. He would be the next to get dumped, you wouldn't give a chance to the man who didn't even want to be there in the first place.
But Jay was taken aback when he needed a breather and left the hall, finding you leaning against a bench and staring off into the distance. Talking to you that night only started what you and he had slowly built up to.
Did you also think the same, how Jay was the only one who managed to win your heart? You knew which men your father worked with and you'd be lying if you said you didn't look at any of them. But you'd be honest enough to say that no one had caught your eye like Jay did.
He was different from all the others because he was there with you. After all, you were... You. Not because you were the daughter of someone like your father. Jay didn't even care about that, to tell you the truth. He only focused on you and only you.
"Mi amor" Jay's whisper brought you out of your thoughts, his hand now resting on your ass and squeezing the flesh without too much force when you looked down. You were sitting perfectly aligned on the head of his cock, evident by the erection almost bursting through the fabric.
Your eyes went up to Jay's face and he smiled lazily, his mouth pink from the newly shared kiss as his hand squeezed a little tighter at the same second that your hip – involuntarily – brushed against his.
"Baby, fuck" he moaned, feeling his boxers get wet with pre-cum and knowing that his slide was only being made easier because you were just as wet as he was. Your wetness slowly spread as you rolled your hips back.
"What? Do you want to see the view then, mi amor?" you teased, nibbling on Jay's cheek and trailing your lips down to his jaw. Your moan was so sly when your boyfriend's hands pushed your panties aside enough for him to slide his hand down to your pussy.
Parting your lips and collecting a good amount of your juices, Jay let his fingers move slowly up and down your pussy until he found your clit.
"I'm having the best of it" he whispered, circling your clit with ease due to how wet you were.
Your moan was music to his ears as his fingers worked on circling your swollen, needy muscle. Jay knew how sensitive you were in that area and paying attention to that before anything else was something he prioritized, even if his cock was starting to ache from how much it was throbbing to be inside you.
"Jay, I need..." his fingers slid down your pussy until he had two of them in your hole, squeezing them as he began to pump in and out.
"What do you need?" he asked. You wanted to punch him for his audacity, even though he was being careful while he fucked you with his fingers in such a delicious way. Hitting specific spots and pressing his thumb on your clit "Tell me. I want you to tell me, y/n."
Motherfucker. Jay was a cute son of a bitch for being like that even when he wasn't degrading you and wanting to take care of every inch of your body.
You rolled over with his fingers inside you, one of your hands going to the hair on the back of his neck and pulling Jay's face back against the back of the seat. From that angle, his neck was even more visible to you and the marks you would leave on his tanned skin would be a reminder of what it was like the first time the two of you were on that mountain in his car.
"Baby" he whimpered as your teeth slid across his skin, nibbling and muffling his moans as Jay's fingers slid in and out of her wet pussy. The lewd sound of wetness made your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you still nibbled on it and made your way to Jay's earlobe.
"I love your fingers, you know" your voice was charged with arousal and you were panting, you wanted to moan when Jay stopped moving them, wanting to pay attention to you. But that didn't stop you from contracting your pussy and squeezing his fingers, causing your boyfriend to bring his other hand up to your thigh to slap you.
The burning on your skin combined with how fucked up you were just from being in that position and how you both were. You weren't going to come at that moment.
"But I love it even more when I have your cock inside me."
"Is that what you want?" Jay asked, his fingers slowly pulling out of you. You didn't have to be a master to know that now it was your turn to work, lifting your hips enough for him to take off your boxers and help you out of your panties, abandoning them along with everything else on the floor of the car.
That's exactly what you wanted. It was his cock that you'd been craving ever since you and Jay got into the back seat of the car. So that's what he was going to give you anyway. But not before teasing you some more.
Holding the base and taking advantage of the angle you were at so he could enter you, Jay ran the tip of his cock all over your pussy. Only pre-cum could help it go in easily, especially as his fingers had worked hard enough to make you wet for him too. But you knew it wouldn't stop there.
Circling your clit with the tip of his cock, then going down your hole and teasing where you wanted him at that moment. Jay didn't enter you, just stroking everything he could and collecting as much of your juices as he could to wet his cock.
"You're..."
"I'm what?" he asked, at which point Jay's cock released itself as soon as it was at your entrance and, rolling his hands to your hips, he pulled you down and thrust himself into you in one go "Say it, mi amor."
He ordered his voice raspy, a moan caught in his throat as your pussy hugged him so tightly. In such a delicious way that it fit so perfectly.
A few seconds passed before your hands went to his face, holding him so close and feeling Jay's breathing hitch as your hips began to work.
"You're a motherfucker" you laughed softly, letting him kiss you as you moaned through his movements.
Jay wanted you to take the lead that night, bouncing on his cock and slapping your ass against his thighs as you sat down the way you wanted. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to go deep inside you, but with your movements. It was the night that Jay needed you so badly, but at the same time, he didn't want to be rude. So making you sit on him was a way of being able to look at you and appreciate your features in front of him. The movement of your body going up and down, your chest pressed against his as your mouth opened to moan his name when the kiss became too much to bear.
He loved fucking you, loved swearing at you as he shoved his cock roughly into you. Jay loved going slow and making love, hearing you declare yourself, and being able to declare yourself too. But unlike all that, nothing could compare to the needy sex he loved to have with you.
As if every time his cock hit its sweet spot, he needed to hold onto any part of your body without letting go of you. Afraid that you would run away or get away from him before it was all over. That was when Jay allowed himself to be vocal all the time, with his hands squeezing your hips and leaving even stronger marks so that you would remember the next morning what the two of you had done.
Jay didn't want it to ever end, least of all with the stuffy air inside the car, the sounds of skin slapping, and your moans mingling with his. One thing fits into another to make that sex one of the best yet.
You gave in to Jay when you felt his hands go to your ass, gripping your buttocks tightly as your hips began to wobble. He knew you'd come at any moment – he wasn't much different – so helping you wouldn't be a problem.
Lifting you there, up and down on his cock, Jay tilted his hips in search of more contact to go to your limit, where his cock reached you and made you scream his name without caring if anyone else was out there to hear you two. All that mattered was how much you needed your boyfriend and how good he made you feel.
"Jay, mi amor..." you whimpered to him as your stomach gave the all-too-familiar feeling it was coming. Your hands, which were still holding his face, slid up to Jay's neck and one of them grabbed him by the throat. You didn't think about that act, being the only visible place you could hold on to as he leaned in to get you fucked before you both reached the edge.
"I know, baby. I know, come with me" the brushing of lips against each other, the uneven breathing as you moaned his name and he moaned yours.
You'd already forgotten the sting of Jay's nails digging into your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock and matching the movements with his hips thrusting into you. Your fingers on his neck tightened a little, by instinct, and that made Jay's eyes widen.
For a second he stopped his movements and stared at you. You stared back, not knowing what had happened, ready to open your mouth and ask him what was going on.
"Do it again" he ordered.
"What?" you swallowed, your throat dry from keeping your mouth open too long and your eyes searching for an answer to what your boyfriend had said.
"Squeeze..." he whispered "Your hand on my neck again, please."
Your eyes rolled to where he had said it, noticing only now that his hand had wrapped around her neck. Of course, it was nothing compared to when Jay did that, like a human necklace around your neck when he held you there. But you could see the effect it had on him when the orbs darkened and Jay thrust his cock deep into you again.
A scream and a moan came from your throat as the movements resumed, and you squeezed his neck again with your fingertips, using a little more force and seeing his eyes close in the process. Jay couldn't believe that this would make him come even more easily.
He could ask you to do it again and again if he had to, because it was something new that had made his cock throb even more inside you.
With your free hand, you leaned on the back of the seat next to Jay's head, helping to lift his hips as you squeezed his neck and let him fuck you into oblivion.
"Come with me, mi amor" your whisper was a warning that your knot was bursting, that you were going to come and you wanted him to be on the same frequency. And he was.
Because as soon as everything broke, your pussy contracted on his cock as you came. It didn't take half a second for Jay to spill inside you, hot jets of cum invading you as his cock was milked by every spasm of your twitching pussy.
He moaned your name with his lips parted, so inviting that you couldn't stand it, and nibbled on the bottom one, taking it between your lips while still riding Jay through the rest of the orgasm until there was nothing left.
The next few minutes were spent with Jay carefully getting you off his lap and reaching for the shirt he was wearing earlier to clean you up. Carefully because of the overstimulation and how sensitive you were.
You wanted to remain sitting on his lap, cuddled up to your boyfriend who was still trying to normalize his breathing little by little.
"I missed you, you know that?" Jay said after a while in silence, glancing quickly outside to notice the darkness of the night and then looking back at you. Exhausted, your skin is illuminated by the reflection of the moonlight and the sweat from your sudden activities. Jay cracked a wide smile at that.
"Why didn't you tell me you were there? I missed you too and I could have gotten you out of that room so quickly..."
"I know. I'm sorry, mi amor" Jay let you kiss his lips in the process, hugging your body to his, both of you tired "I wanted to try and surprise you."
"And you did it by bringing me here" you said with your lips still close to his, hearing your boyfriend's laugh even though it was low.
"How about we see the other view now? Or do you want to continue?" Jay asked.
You seemed to think for a moment, looking at him and then out of the car before letting out a sigh.
"A bit of that view wouldn't be a bad idea" you shrugged "But we can come back here later, we've got all night."
It was your turn to laugh when Jay looked shocked, but then grateful that you'd said that since he didn't want to leave too soon. He wanted to enjoy all the time he had with you.
The truth was that the boy didn't like anything his family was involved in, nothing his father had in mind for his future. But being in that environment had led Jay to you.
So perhaps the only good thing about being there was that he had you by his side. And for that Jay would always be grateful.
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
#enhypen#enhypen smut#jay smut#enhypen jay#enhypen au#enhypen scenarios#enha smut#jongseong smut#park jongseong smut#enhypen masterlist#enhypen x reader#jay x reader#jay fanfics#jongseong x reader#enhypen imagines
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Breathe With Me | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
Summary: With you and Daryl being in a good place, kissing coming naturally to you both and cuddling no longer awkward, it was inevitable that your make out sessions would start to heat up into something else. However, in the heat of what should've been a hot moment, Daryl's mind started to wander to it's usual self deprecating depths. Luckily, you were there to help him through it.
Genre: Kinda angsty but mainly fluff
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, self deprecating thoughts, hyperventilation/panic attack.
Word count: 1.2k
A/n: Another young!Daryl fic in a span of not even two days? Who would've thought it was possible? It's mainly because I've been enjoying writing for young!Daryl recently, and I'd be happy to get any requests for this au. Also, I've never personally experienced a panic attack myself and this is all based off of what Google told me, so if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
—
“Oh, fuck.”
“Shit, girl. Yer gon' be the death of me.”
You giggled against his lips, allowing him to push you down onto the bed. He followed soon after, moving to hover over you before reattaching his lips to yours hungrily. He used one of his hands to hold his weight up, the other one wandering over your exposed stomach. Your shirt was already disposed of and long forgotten, leaving you clad in only your shorts and bra.
To your surprise, when your hands wandered under Daryl's shirt, he only hesitated for a quick moment before withdrawing from the kiss and tugging his shirt over his head. Old and new scars were on display for you, leaving Daryl completely vulnerable under your gaze.
You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss, a silent way of thanking him for trusting you. It wasn't the first time that you had seen his scars—you had helped him with his wounds too many times too count, leaving you familiar with all of his scars—but you always tried to make sure that he knew you didn't judge him. You loved every part of him, scars and all.
You gasped against his lips when he let his hand trail down, his fingers lightly tracing over your clothed cunt. His tongue entered your mouth and he groaned at the taste. He pulled back momentarily to look at you, his pupils blown with lust.
“Fuck, yer so perfect,” he whispered, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck.
You moaned when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot, leaning your head back to grant him better access. Your mind was starting to get cloudy, the only thought on your mind being how good Daryl was making you feel. Admittedly, you were also nervous, since this would be your first time doing something like this, but you trusted Daryl. He wouldn't ever hurt you.
In an unexpected move, you managed to roll you both over. Daryl's eyes slightly widened in wonder, before smiling and leaning up for another kiss. His hands settled on your waist, allowing you to take the reigns for the moment.
Daryl was thoroughly enjoying himself. However, when he felt you subconsciously grind your hips against his, his mind zoomed in and focused on one thing—you would regret this. You would regret giving your first time to someone like him. He would be terrible at this and you'd finally kick him to the curb after figuring it out. He didn't deserve to have you in this way, in your most vulnerable state.
You would regret him.
Daryl's breathing started becoming erratic. Although you could've easily misinterpreted it as him simply getting more turned on, something told you it wasn't that. You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him, noticing the slightly pained expression on his face. His breathing was quick and choked off, and he seemed to be in some sort of daze. You instantly knew something was wrong.
“Daryl, hey, look at me,” you whispered, cupping his cheek and gently urging him to look at you. When his blue eyes met yours, you could very clearly see the panic in them.
Instantly, all previous lustful thoughts left your mind, concern for your boyfriend taking root in their place. You knew exactly what was happening; Daryl was busy having a panic attack. You helped him into a sitting position, still straddling his lap. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest right above your heart, hoping to divert his attention away from whatever negative thoughts were plaguing his mind.
Still looking deeply into his eyes, you gently caressed his cheek with the hand that wasn't holding his over your heart. “Try to breathe with me, okay?” you whispered, starting to breathe in a controlled rhythm.
Daryl nodded and began to copy your breathing, his sounding more choked up than yours. He tightened his grip on your waist with his hand that was still resting there, desperately trying to ground himself back to reality. It took a while, with you soothingly rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone and breathing with him in a controlled rhythm, but soon he was calming down.
Daryl felt ashamed of himself. There the two of you were, half naked and sharing what should've been a blissful, enjoyable experience, and he let himself get into his own head. He let his own insecurities get in the way. He should've just sucked it up, but instead he just had to ruin the moment.
“M'sorry,” he muttered, looking down to avoid what he thought would've been a disappointed stare.
You frowned slightly and gently grabbed his face with both hands, urging him to look at you. “Hey, it's okay,” you assured him. When he shook his head in denial, your grip became more firm. “It is okay. Don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control, alright? Do you wanna talk about it?”
Daryl hesitated for a moment, but nodded slowly. “I jus' got into my own head. I was nervous and convinced myself ya would regret givin' yer virginity to me. Started feelin' overwhelmed. M'sorry.”
You pressed a kiss against his forehead, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don't be sorry. I get it. I was nervous too, you know? But I wouldn't have regretted anything. I trust you. There's no one I'd rather do this with. But it's okay if that doesn't happen right now. I'm ready whenever you are.”
Daryl gave you a small smile before leaning forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “M'still sorry. I was lookin' forward to this.”
“Me too, but it can wait. Let's get you taken care of, okay? And I don't wanna hear any buts, mister.”
Daryl nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed, but made no effort to lift you off his lap. Instead, he pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly. “Thank you fer understandin'.”
“Of course.”
There was a lot of things going through Daryl's mind at that moment. Despite your reassuring words, he still felt awful for what happened, his mind continuing to shame him. However, with your hands now gently threading through his hair to bring him some comfort, not giving a damn that you were still half naked and straddling him, he forced his mind to shut up.
And in that moment, it was confirmed in his mind—Daryl Dixon knew that he was never letting you go.
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#young!daryl dixon#young daryl dixon#young!daryl#shopping spree hangout dreams#the walking dead#norman reedus#norman reedus x reader
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pairing: dad!lando x mom!reader
warnings: so much fluff, tooth rotting
a/n: hello all! thank you guys for your endless support and request I've been getting! I promise I haven't forgotten your fics, I'm working on them I swear. here's a fic I wrote a couple of weeks ago while you wait! btw this literally happened in a dream of mine so I feel like I just HAD to write it.
It was an early morning in Monaco, the sun had just risen, there were faint snores coming from beside you. You could make one out to be your husband having just got home from a long race weekend, and your little boy, Atticus. When Lando got home from a race weekend, he made it a habit to put him in our bed to sleep.
You watch the identical faces for just a moment more before jumping out the bed. You loved days after a race, everything felt like it was finally in place again. You especially loved the morning after, you and Lando created a routine that started before your little one was born. You’d wake up before him and run to the little breakfast nook at the end of the block to grab his favorite.
After dressing, brushing your teeth, yada yada, you set off. You had a pep in your step, bouncing a little with each stride, feeling lighter and lighter knowing your other half was waiting for you at home, snuggled up with your little creation. You giggled to yourself, realizing how crazy you must have looked to the people passing by.
The bell rang above the door as you eagerly pushed it open. The owner saw you and smiled, knowing exactly what was coming. “The usual I assume?” She asked cheekily. You blushed and nodded, “Can you add some tater tots and an apple juice please? Atticus has been in a phase lately.” The owner simply nodded as you paid as she got to work.
As you sat in a small table in the corner, you could see a small group of girls looking your way, trying ti be subtle on the fact that they recognized you. You smiled and shyly waved causing the girls to walk over slowly. “Hi! Are you Y/N?” One of the girls asked. “I am! How are you guys this morning?” You were happy to make conversation with them, feeling better at the fact most of Lando’s fans didn’t despise you. After a few minutes of talking about the recent race, what they were excited to see, they asked for a photo. You had one of the workers take it before handing you the food. You waved goodbye to the small group of girls, smiling to yourself at the softhearted interaction.
You couldn’t contain yourself as you worked your way through the door. You sat everything out on the counter and prepared it like it was a five star meal. You set Lando’s burrito out, eggs, bacon, cheese, on a plate. You scooped some tater tots in a bowl and poured the juice in a small sippy cup for the little one.
Just as you finished, Lando came trudging down the stairs. He was dressed in gray sweats, no shirt and his hair sticking up in different directions with that sleepy look in his eyes. “Hi baby, welcome home.” You quietly whispered. He came around the counter to where you were standing and latched onto you.
You stood there completely at ease with him in your arms, the feeling of his heartbeat against yours, his warm tan skin, the smell of his cologne-everything about him made your heart sing. He started placing small kisses on your cheek and jaw, no hidden intention behind it, just wanted to feel your skin under his lips. He pulls away with a groan, “I forgot the babe upstairs.” I giggled and pushed up towards the stairs, and watch him lumber up to your room to grab Atticus.
You tuned back to the food for a moment before setting it on the island so everyone could reach it easily. Lando came down the stairs holding your baby boy, dressed the same, with identical looks of tiredness and you audibly cooed. “Hi my little star,” You grabbed a tot from his bowl, hid it behind your back, and walked closer to softly pinched the babes cheek. “did daddy dress you the same?” Atticus pulled his gummy smile, only a couple of teeth in the front, and rubbed his bright green eyes. Lando placed his hand around your waist to pull you closer to him. “It’s kind of unfair that I carried you for nine months but you’re a carbon copy of your dad.” You ruffled his curly hair. Lan huffed, “Could be worse.” You nodded in agreement and pulled the tot from behind your back and offered it to Atticus. His eyes lit up seeing his favorite food. His chubby fingers reached out and snatched it from your hand and tried to put the whole thing in his mouth. You and Lan laughed before he gently pulled it away. “My little duckling, you can’t just shove it like that, you’ve got to bite.” Lando tried to imitate a bite so Atty could do the same. Instead, he started to laugh and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
“Yeah, that’s your son love” Lando looked down at you with a disgruntled look, making you join in on the laughter. You lay your head on his shoulder and like it was a reflex, softly kissed your forehead. Atticus leaned down, sticky hand out to lay on your cheek, and tried to kiss your forehead just like his father did moments before. It ended up leaving a wet mark on your forehead, it’s not like he knew had to give his mom a kiss, he was just trying to copy his dad.
You heard Lando take a big breath in, and without looking away from Atticus,
“Let’s have another one.”
“Lando!”
#lando norris imagine#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#mclaren#formula one#formula 1
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Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler returning is wild to me. It's from an era of my life that is so foreign to who I am today that it evokes something akin to nostalgia but feels closer to grief. Memories of writing and experiencing fandom and having such a silly little time in a world so different from what we experience now.
Sebastian is so beautiful, still.
The shipping will be grotesque, still. But watching this era of the internet drop their think pieces at a fandom that is simply built so fucking different is going to be hilarious. The unhinged young adults from way back are now essentially fandom elders who will laugh from afar as the puritanical weebs gnaw each other limb from limb. If any of my peers wade into the fire, good luck. That's not for me.
I was able to wade through the muck of the fandom because I loved the presentation of the Victorian Era and the supernatural mystery of it all. I fell off at some point, don't even know what arc or what was happening. I've forgotten more than I can even recall about the whole thing.
It's hard to put into words.
I don't know whether I'll check out the new anime or not, but I'll certainly admire it from afar and think about how far I've come since it held such a warm place in my heart.
Damn.
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Just How I Remember - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!Reader
Summary: After 50 years of being trapped Under the Mountain you, your brother and Prythian are finally free of Amarantha's rule. After all the suffering, you finally get to return to not only your home, but also your mate.
Warnings: Mentions of UTM, just some angsty fluff ig.
Word Count: 1,442
A/N: This is my first ever piece that I have ever posted and the first thing I've written in a while, so I'm a bit nervous. I'm thinking of making this into a series though and tbh this is more of a prologue than anything. It's a bit shorter than I would've liked but I'm still getting back into the feel of writing.
Amarantha’s reign was over, she was dead.
It was a lingering thought as you walked through the halls of what was once Prythian’s sacred mountain, now a hollow shell, the walls imbued with the agonised screams of Amarantha’s victims.
Your mind wandered to the time before this mess had occurred. Before you and so many others had been deceived and caged like animals, reduced to cattle under a sadistic monster's rule.
After walking for some time you reached a spiral staircase, venturing upwards, closer and closer to the light that filtered through an opening in the rock. You reached the top, being met with a doorway carved into the stone, leading to a balcony overlooking the forest surrounding the mountain.
Amarantha hadn’t let you leave, not even once. For fifty years you hadn’t been anywhere but under the tons of rock.
Walking through the door, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, your eyes stinging slightly at the brightness.
You couldn’t remember the last time you saw the sun. The sweet warmth of its rays on your skin, the leathery membrane of your wings. Couldn’t remember the feel of the wind as it brushed the hair over your neck, your shoulders.
You gazed in the direction of Velaris, though so far away, you could almost see it. The distant memory of the beautiful snow capped mountains, the bustling streets of the city that you and your brother gave everything to protect. You’d be returning soon, you’d be home.
You hadn’t yet worked up the courage to tug on the bond in your chest, the nerves had gotten the best of you. You knew it was irrational to be nervous, knew he’d be happy with just knowing you were okay. Alive. It had been so long since you closed down the bond, shutting him out. Not only for his safety, but also your sanity, not wanting him to know the horrors you had been subject to.
What you had been made to do to others.
It wouldn’t be long before Rhysand was finished meeting with the other High Lords and you would both winnow home at last.
Your mind spun, recalling all that had happened in the past three months. The arrival of the human girl, her undying determination to save her love. Your brother’s growing interest in her, the way he’d tried to protect her. He hadn’t yet told you anything about why he’d done it.
But you had a good idea of what it was.
He was your twin after all, he was basically an open book.
The sun was high in the sky by the time Rhysand appeared at your side, looking to you before furrowing his brows in concern. Taking your face in his hands, your brother wiped tears you hadn’t even realised were falling from your cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly, pulling you into his chest. “It’s over now, we’re going home.”
Sniffling, you wrapped your arms around him, willing your tears to cease.
“I know, it's just been so long since I’ve been outside,” pulling away you trained your attention back on the scenery before you. “I’d forgotten how good the sun feels.”
He stayed silent, tucking you into his side. For several moments, you simply watched the clouds go by.
Rhys broke the silence, “Let’s go home.” His words were rushed as if he couldn’t stand one more moment away from home, from your family. You couldn’t either.
Nodding, you took his hand before night swirled around you, jarring but familiar.
And before you knew it, you were home.
𓆩♡𓆪
Velaris was as beautiful as you remembered.
When the darknesses whorled away and your sight was no longer blocked, you got an undisrupted view of the city you had missed so much. The sounds around you faded away as you beheld the people walking the streets, free to live safely. Untouched.
With your gaze fixed on the rainbow, the Sidra. You didn’t sense the presence of several people entering the room before a warm hand was pressed to your shoulder.
Released from your stupor you whipped around, a set of hazel eyes meeting your own violet ones. There were tears there, primed to fall down his tanned cheeks.
Without a moment's hesitation, you were flinging yourself into his arms, gripping tightly to him as heart wrenching sobs tore their way from deep in your chest. Arms wrapped tightly around you, supporting your weight as your knees gave out under you.
His soft voice broke through the onslaught of your cries, a hand brushing over your back. You only gripped him tighter.
It seemed like forever before you finally gathered the strength to pull your face from his chest, meeting his eyes once more. Your lip trembled as those gentle, scarred thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks.
Words escaped you as his eyes scanned over your face, taking note of every new scar. The flicker of rage in his eyes was short lived as you brought your own hands to his face, smoothing over his skin. He was the first to speak, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.
“My love.” Was all he said before tugging you back into his chest, brushing his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent.
“I missed you so much,” you finally managed to choke out, “I thought I’d never see you again.” The sentence ended with a hiccup of a sob, it only made him wrap his arms tighter around you.
Up until this point, the others had given you the privacy to reunite with your mate, leaving the room with Rhys in tow. You hadn’t even noticed.
Pulling away slightly, you looked up at him again. His eyes first, then his lips. He understood immediately, leaning closer slowly before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Brows pinching together with the effort of keeping your tears at bay you kissed him back, fingers drifting into the hair at his nape.
You held him, relishing in the closeness you were deprived of for half a century. Never wanting to pull away you kept kissing him, but he kept it soft as if he were scared to break you.
After what felt like several minutes you finally pulled away, regaining your ability to speak.
“Azriel.” You whispered, near unbelieving that he stood before you.
“Y/N.” He answered with a small smile on his face you hadn’t seen apart from in your dreams in such a long time.
You can’t help but smile back at him and though it is small, it makes him beam nonetheless. Finally pulling away from each other you remember the rest of your friends- your family.
“Where is everyone?” You inquire, scanning over the space around you. The soft crackle of the fire in the hearth, the faelight spread throughout the room creating a warm atmosphere, the couches situated in a crescent shape for weekly game nights. It was the exact same as you remembered, as if it hadn’t been touched since you left.
Perhaps it hadn’t.
Watching you closely as you take in your surroundings, Azriel answers “They wanted to give us a moment alone,” A pause “they didn’t want to overwhelm you. Rhys went with them.”
Nodding, you just now acknowledge the low voices flowing from the other side of the door, leading to the kitchen. You smile fondly at the slightly louder voice, it was Cassian.
Walking over to the door you open it, smiling as you take in your family. Mor in her usual red, Amren in her grey set and Cassian clad in the Illyrian leathers that may as well be moulded to his skin at this point.
It’s Mor who reaches you first, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that you quickly reciprocate. Followed by Cassian, picking you right up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. Even Amren hugs you briefly, the only sign of her relief.
Azriel stands close to you, a fond smile on his face and a barely there pinch to his eyebrows that most would miss with a glance. It concerns you, but you understand the guilt that he and the rest of the Inner Circle must feel. Over what you and Rhys had done to protect them, what you would’ve done until your last breath as long as it meant that they were safe.
Rhys waits until you part before a serious expression washes over his face, his eyes hollow. You know that he’s going to say something to sour the mood, and that he’s feeling guilty to have to do so.
You understand though, because it isn’t over.
#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#azriel acotar#acotar fanfiction#just as I remember#azriel angst#azriel fluff
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yandere! Scientist
Hello everyone, thank you so much for all of your support on my previous stories. I was extremely excited about writing this specific piece because it's sort of based on movie that's set to come out real soon. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send requests/speak to me in my ask box.
You met Seán while you were both freshmen in highschool. you noticed he was relatively quieter than everybody else in the classroom. He was the most knowledgeable student in that damned classroom, he was just stealthy about it. The two of you really got to know each other when you were selected as partners, selected based on the similarity of your scores, percentages and your ability to learn certain subjects.
Even after the project was finished and graded, the two of you still kept speaking to each other. The reason for that was because he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you. It took awhile for it to click into your head that he was attracted to you, but when you finally realized, you couldn't be more ecstatic.
He confessed to you at the beginning of your sophomore year. Whilst you were putting some of your belongings into your locker, he showed up behind you with blood red roses in his hand, along with a comically large basket of gifts. A tea-stained letter was nestled into the folds of one of the roses, inside of it was him expressing just how happy you've made him for the past year. How he wants your love reserved for him and him alone.
"Hello, Y/n, I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. You don't have to say anything until after I'm done talking but I have to tell you now because it'll do no good to either of us to just have this rot within me. You've been the subject of my love and utter adoration for...oh, dear...it's been so long I've now forgotten. But, I'll have you believe that I have never and will never forget how sublime you make me feel. Every time I think of you, I can't help but smile and think of our potential future together. Y/n, I wish so desperately to take care of you, touch you, kiss you, to hear my name on your lips for the rest of time, only if you'll let me. Now I'm ready, what do you think?"
You were absolutely stunned to hear such profound declarations of love fall from his lips, even more so when the declarations were about you.
You stood there with your bouquet of prickly roses, woven basket full of all you took joy in. You opened your dry mouth and said, "I can't believe you said all that about me. All of this is so beautiful, Seán. So, what do I think? I'm not sure what I think but I know I want to be your girlfriend."
After high school, he immediately got down on one knee to ask you if you'd be forever his woman. His wife. Of course, your answer was a tearful 'yes' as you blubbered about how much you loved him and about how so happy you were.
Highschool sweethearts!
You've always known about his appreciation for science and his interest to pursue a career in that topic. You can only imagine just how thrilled he was when he got a position in a government facility with the job he's always fought for. He picked you up and swirled you around, causing you to become temporarily dizzy as you giggled at his enthusiasm. Seán doused your hot and flustered cheeks with kisses as he smiled at your precious laugh.
He was so glad he'd managed to get a PhD and job in something that would make him enough money to take care of the both of you, but, mostly you. He was so appreciative to you for staying with him for all these years, always his perfect girl, always so supportive, always giving him beyond helpful ideas + advice. You were perfect.
Eventually, the world was struck with a variety of struggles, mainly caused by powerful political figures that simply did not agree with each other. Many people were caught in the crossfire, protests began being organized, riots ensuing right outside of government buildings. What followed all of these events? Well, the only reasonable answer. War.
Because of this, your husband was called into office and put into a group of other physics scientists. They claimed they needed a defense weapon in case of everyone being put into a harmful and treacherous situation. Seán was made the head man of the project.
This worried you to the fullest extent, maybe you were being dramatic but your husband's position in the project could make him a direct target. When you shared your thoughts with him he couldn't help but give you a small endearing smile.
"you've always been a worrisome woman, haven't you? Nothing will happen to you or to us. I'll make sure of it, I'm benefiting them by building this damned thing, they wouldn't dare let anything disrupt our life, m'kay?"
"Seán, I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Yes, you're benefiting them which is exactly why you'd be in danger."
"I can take care of myself, mo mhuirnín dílis. You've witnessed it, no? Don't worry yourself any longer."
Now, you may be wondering what he's talkin' about. Well, don't worry I'll tell you.
Seán had taken you with him to visit the small fishing town he had grown up in. After eating a delicious meal with your in-laws, Seán was invited by some old friends to go out and drink at an old and creaky pub. They have been asking to meet you and this was a chance for him to show you off to everyone in town, so, he accepted.
The night remained still and calm, despite the occasional roar of laughter that would occur at the table. It was fun, you were so glad Seán took you out to see where he was gifted with life.
But then
As you headed towards the friendly barmaid to make an order of crisps for everyone seated at the table. As you waited to be handed your order, a ragged young man that looked incredibly haggard for his age due to all of the alcohol approached you. You were sure he was just going to request assistance in catching a cab as he looked far too intoxicated to do it on his own. But no. He just wanted some action.
He pushed himself onto you with his flirtatious words but after you rejected him, you had angered him to an extreme point. He gripped your arm hard enough to bruise and spoke into your face with a horrid stench on his tongue.
"Now why won't you just shut your little mouth and please a man, hm?" He grinned maliciously.
Suddenly, you saw a quick flash of a fist show in your vision, not expecting it to be Seán punching the man with all the force he had in his slim yet firm body. All it took was one hit for the man to be on the ground, passed out. Yet, Seán didn't stop there and he wouldn't have stopped if his friend hadn't yanked him off the man. He was slamming his knuckles onto the man's pale face until it was almost fully covered in a crimson red.
You'd never seen him act in such a rabid way but you weren't angry at him. He was just protecting you. In an extremely visceral and self incriminating way. He didn't care, he's done far worse in defense of you but those were things he'd done in secret.
You were already far aware of how protective he could get and how emotional he was when it came to you. Someone could say something harmful about you and he'd mutter under his breath in anger, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, and eventually kiss your forehead before leaving the house to go do what he knew needed to be done.
When the two of you were intimate he'd cry at times while expressing his incredibly deep affection for you. He loved seeing you like this, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, your huffs and puffs when he teased you. "I'd kill for you, y-you know that, yeah? Oh, A mhuirnín, I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything."
There comes a lot of stress with his job, at times he'd return from work and burrow his head into your tummy, wrapping his firm arms around your waist. No matter how many times he messages you during work, no matter how many times he re-reads the letter you left him in his lunch, no matter how many times he calls you, he'll always yearn for your touch.
You lift his face from your stomach and remove his glasses, ruffling his dark curls after doing so. Your thumb gently swipes over his cheek, before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss. He melts into your touch and gives you a love-drunk smile.
His perfect girl.
The both of you would go on the loveliest getaway trips when he was able to take a break from work. You'd go to a restaurant and he'd hold your chin as he gently fed you pieces from the pasta you'd ordered, giving you time to chew and swallow.
When in clothing stores, he'd wait outside of the changing room on a cushioned seat, waiting to see his wife's lovely face and figure. He would never let you look at the price tags as that would discourage you from buying what you'd like, he didn't want that.
Seán has a habit of overworking himself to sketch out the building plans for the project he was assigned, he needed it to be perfect. This could change the future and if there even was a possibility that there'd be a future. You'd walk into his office, seeing his hooked nose being beautifully lit by the candle on his desk. He took a sip of his Bushmills whiskey before turning to look at you with eyes full of admiration. "You have to eat something, surely you know that. Plus, I made it so you have to eat it or else I'll get upset."
He's obviously very well known in the science world, I mean, his creation will determine the outcome of society. He's bound to get some recognition. People have come to be obsessed with the relationship the two of you have and the story of your love. Every photograph people see of the two of you, Seán is turned towards you with the most love sick look of them all. In photographs where he's alone, he may as well be the most stoic man in the world.
People would post slideshows of the two of you together and caption it with something along the lines of:
'me and him'
Others in the comments would practically point and laugh at the person with responses of:
'you wish.' 'y'all aren't that important ' 'try again' 'interesting 🧐.' 'Can you be serious...?'
This man is the most serious man in the entire universe when he's at work and surrounded with his partners. But, when he's alone with you? He's nuzzling his cheek into your chest, kissing all over you, kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS.
Seán is the type of husband to pick up your coffee + bakery order to wake you up with, leaves you gifts and notes to find around the house, takes you to the most wonderful places anyone could ever go to.
He's so glad he made someone like you his wife.
Forever :).
#yandere oneshot#yandere oc x you#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere#obsessive yandere#obsessive love#yandere oc x y/n#oc x yn#oc x reader#oc x canon#oc x oc#oc x character#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere smut
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 5
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore (nothing too graphic)
Word Count: 4715
Notes: This took a while to write, I'm sorry about that but life has been kicking my ass. I really hope it makes enough sense because I've found I'm not very good at writing action scenes (but that's also not the main focus). Hope you enjoy!
Part 4 ○ Part 6
The moon was high in the sky, its pale light guiding your way through the forest. The air was strangely quiet, the leaves crunching beneath your feet were the only thing that could be heard between the trees. Even the wind was serene and no animal dared make a sound, as if sensing what was to come. The atmosphere allowed you to keep your composure, any incoming threats would be easier to detect like this. Unfortunately, so would your allies.
It's funny how so much can change in a matter of days. Before, when you were only a relatively low ranking member of the guild, walking through the dark woods as you are doing now would simply be the norm, whether you were on a mission or not, but, after everything you learned, not having Azriel and his shadows near you makes you feel off-kilter, like you can't protect him if he stands too far from you.
If it weren't for the millions of problems that keep piling on, you'd probably sit on this feeling, dissecting it until you realize how peculiar it actually is for you to feel so achingly connected to the shadowsinger who, even if had been your husband during a time of your life you've now forgotten, was essentially a stranger to you now. You've only really known him for about two weeks, not nearly enough time to be feeling like a part of you is missing.
You weren't used to worrying about anyone else at times like these. Even when your missions weren't solo, you didn't actually know your coworkers, much less cared if they survived or not. But now, you can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, of how Azriel and his family could get hurt because of you. You stayed up thinking about this all night, if this would all be truly worth it just to get your memories back, but had decided that you wanted to know what happened, no matter the cost, and knew that, as much as the Inner Circle was helping you recover your memories, not all their motives were altruistic. They all wanted revenge as much as you did.
All of you had planned this out meticulously, going down to every last detail and considering every possible outcome. Everyone was also extra careful on how to approach using you as bait. You expected it from Azriel - he's been protective of you ever since you stepped foot into his High Lord's home - but seeing the rest of them so worried about you made you want to recover your memories that much more. You want to remember these people, want to know how they all, especially Azriel, came to care for you, so much so that even death didn't stop those feelings.
There had been other plans brought up, ones that didn't involve putting you in such a risky situation, but it was soon decided that the only way to get to Norris would be to show up alone. If he so much as caught a glimpse of anyone else, you know he would simply run and if he truly put his guard up and went into hiding, finding him would be nearly impossible even with Azriel's spies and shadows at his disposal, he hadn't found you after all.
The tree you were looking for comes into view as you get lost in your thoughts, the magic traces left behind on its bark unmistakably familiar. The guild has used this system for as long as you've been a part of it. Every important meeting with your handler had taken place next to any object or area marked with this exact faint magic, enough for the attuned eye to pick up on but not so strong that anyone else might come across them and meddle where they're not welcomed.
You don't have to wait by the marked tree for long before an imposing figure appears beside you. He had probably been watching you for as long as you've winnowed into the edge of the treeline, keeping his eyes on you as you walked to the meeting place. The air shifts, the wind picking up slightly as if sensing the tension threatening to form in your body.
Turning around as casually as possible, you face your former handler, the male you thought had saved your life but you've now learned did quite the opposite. Not that there had been any particularly fond feelings between you and him, but it still hurts to know how easily the male manipulated you and turned your entire life around with no remorse.
He was mostly covered with a black hood, only a bit of his face being visible through the shadow it cast, enough to meet his eyes. You've only seen him without it a few times, you know that dark brown hair lays under the hood and a few scars adorn his face. Truthfully, you're not even sure if this isn't some intricate glamour. Nothing that comes from this male should be trusted.
His form gives nothing away, no nerves or suspicions, but his brown eyes rake over your body, searching for something. Since he thinks you've just crawled out of a cell or worse, he's probably looking for any signs of injury, or that you've betrayed him and the guild. It's best you don't let him find anything that tells him otherwise.
“Norris,” you greet him as you would any other time, nodding once at him with a passive expression.
He crosses his arms and meets your eyes when he hears your voice. His eyes dart over the forest around you as if he knew Azriel would be lurking in the shadows. His self assured expression doesn't help with your nerves. Norris always seems like he's three steps ahead, and more often than not he was actually four.
“I didn't think I'd see you again,” he finally speaks up.
“I thought so too.”
Norris hums in response. You're not sure if he believes you or not, but short and distant answers are the norm for him. Either way, you need to stick to the plan, there's no turning back now. “How did you escape the Night Court?”
“They thought I was someone else, someone they used to know,” you start, trying to convey some of the confusion you'd experienced the first time they told you who you were. He knows you well enough to expect you to have some trouble maintaining the same level of apathy he so easily displays, he'd warned you multiple times to act more like an assassin and not let your emotions get the best of you. “It eventually led to a fight between the High Lord and his Spymaster. They couldn't agree on what to do with me from what I heard. I managed to escape in the chaos.”
You stop for a second, licking your lips. You decided not to completely lie to him so it would be more believable, this version of events could have come true had you not trusted Azriel, had your feelings not been so suffocating and confusing.
“I waited for a while before contacting you, to make sure they didn't come looking for me,” you continue eventually, the fact that he isn't asking more questions makes your heart pick up ever so slightly.
He turns his head to the side, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You resist the urge to clench your sweaty palms, not wanting to let him see through you. “Who did they think you were?”
“The Spymaster's former wife,” you admitted, hoping you sounded as detached as possible.
“And what do you think about it?”
“What?”
“Do you believe them?” You didn't expect him to ask you outright. It would make more sense for him to try to cover it up, stopping any doubts you might have had before they grew.
“Of course not. I've never been married,” the lie tastes wrong on your tongue but you make sure not to let any of it translate into your body language or your voice. Which is why you're so caught off guard by his next words. “I think you're lying to me.”
Norris turns you around and grabs you to him before you have a chance to react, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing a dagger to your neck, power rumbling under his skin, raising the hairs on the back of your neck at its intensity. This isn't that surprising to you since you were more than aware of how much faster and stronger he was, and that tricking him would be extremely hard, but this means you need to move to plan B. And you were really hoping you could avoid a direct conflict like this.
Azriel is the first one to show himself, emerging from the shadows with deadly calm, hazel eyes never straying from Norris as his hand hovers Truth Teller. As much as you try to keep calm and not give anything away, you know Norris can feel you tense up and hear your heartbeat picking up when you see the shadowsinger walking straight into danger.
You feel another presence behind you, Morrigan, followed by Cassian and Amren on each side. The sisters had stayed behind, despite their many protests. In case anything happened, Velaris needed its High Lady and the Valkyries at least. You also know this is a personal matter for the fae present, you had been their friend and been ripped away from their lives by the male currently holding you at knife point, threatening to end your life once again, for good this time.
They all start walking slowly to you, effectively forming a circle around the two of you, getting ready to attack if Norris hurts you or tries to run. He appeared as calm as if he had just been caught on a night stroll, his heartbeat never rising in tempo against your back even under Azriel's chilling stare. He had been expecting your betrayal, and had been ready for them.
You could feel the fury in the air, could see it written in Azriel's eyes as he studied every single one of Norris' movements. You had been worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure since he was against this plan from the start, in fear of this exact situation coming true. But he seemed completely focused, not even risking looking at you too long in case he'd get distracted. This made you relax ever so slightly. You'd planned out for this situation and even if you ended up hurt or worse, you know Azriel won't let Norris go unharmed. You would get your revenge one way or another, you just hoped you could spare the male in front of you any more pain.
Rhysand winnows in next to Azriel moments later, darkness clinging to him as he takes a few steps closer to you nonchalantly. Talons scratching your mental walls before checking in on you. All according to plan.
“I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but even I can't spin a lie so effortlessly,” he starts, arrogance dripping in every word. You'd never admit it, much less to him, but Rhysand was every bit the perfect High Lord, especially at times like these. It showed in the way he carried himself down to the seemingly bottomless pit of power at his disposal. No matter how strong Norris is, anyone with even a little of self preservation would think twice on how to handle him.
“I came prepared for your little tricks, High Lord.”
You frown at his words, confusion settling over you before you realize what it meant. Rhysand must have tried getting inside his mind as soon as he appeared. Norris had expected him to, had put up walls to ensure it didn't happen. This would only make things harder.
“Skipping pleasantries, are we?” Rhysand's face gives nothing away, but as he drops said pleasantries, it gives way to some of the anger bubbling under the surface, the next words coming out in a serious tone. “You're not walking out of here, Norris.”
“I wouldn't be so sure,” Norris says as he leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “Did you think I would come on my own?”
A sinking feeling grows in your stomach as you watch dark figures manifesting all around you, far outnumbering your group. You recognize some of them, know their clothes and masks mean they're assassins from the guild.
A fight breaks out right before your eyes, causing you to struggle desperately for the first time in Norris' arms. He tries to keep you in place by letting the blade touch your skin as a warning, a few drops of blood escaping the small wound. You know he could easily kill you, but you're also aware that if he did the chances of him escaping would drop to zero. That's the only reason you're still breathing, so he can use you as a shield.
Your eyes were following Azriel's shadow covered form as he fought against multiple attackers, the feeling of helplessness rising with each clank of his sword. You can't stand there and wait any longer, so you grab the blade still positioned dangerously close to your throat and wrap your fingers around it tightly so it cuts your hand instead of your neck while swinging your elbow back to try to push off of Norris. Just as you expected, you weren't strong enough and he pulled the knife back from your grasp, intending to stab your stomach to stop you, but you had a new trick up your sleeve.
Azriel's shadows had moved to you as soon as Norris grabbed you, crawling up your legs discreetly in the dark of night, where they stayed waiting for your signal. And, as they tasted your blood in the air, they engulfed Norris, giving you enough room to push back and to elbow him a few more times, also letting off some of your power and finally being able to release yourself from his hold.
The shadows aren't enough to keep him away from you for long, the lack of visibility barely slowing him down as he attacks you before you even have the chance to take a breath. Luckily, your little helpers' singer rushes in, getting between you and deflecting Norris' strike. He hands you a sword so you can fight back with him and pushes back against Norris without wasting a single moment.
The three of you enter a match, barely being able to pay attention to what's happening around you, though you can tell everyone is in the same predicament. Even between you and Azriel, keeping up with Norris proves difficult, he's not only an exceedingly proficient fighter but he's also familiar with your attacks and style, making it easier for him to avoid your attacks and focus more on Azriel's.
The fight goes on for longer than you'd like. Even with your and Azriel's joint efforts, you had barely managed to wound Norris. The bastard was too strong and experienced, he was one of the guild's oldest assassins for a reason.
Suddenly the sickening scent of blood reaches your nostrils, in a concentration you haven't experienced before. It makes you falter in your movements, but luckily it has the same effect on Norris, leaving him open to Azriel's attacks, who seems undisturbed by it. You risk a glance behind you, but all you can see is the rest of the Inner Circle watching the battle, while the ground and their bodies, even the trees around them, are covered in blood. You're not exactly sure what happened, what they did to completely obliterate the assassins to a point not even their bodies were left, but you don't have more time to linger on this as Azriel finally manages to get a few good hits in, leaving Norris stumbling back away from him.
Rhysand is next to you in the blink of an eye, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You move to help Azriel, hoping to distract Norris enough for him to be able to infiltrate his mind. It doesn't take much longer before Norris finally drops unconscious at your feet, and you immediately let out a relieved breath. Azriel's shadows move to tie him up so he has no chance of escaping.
Your plan had always been to catch Norris off guard or wear him down enough so that Rhysand would be able to infiltrate his mind, successfully knocking him out so you could take him back to the Night Court for interrogation. And, as much as you'd planned for the possibility of him bringing backup, the assassins had made this harder to achieve. You all had been worn down more than expected, but, as you look around, you see no one seems to be gravely injured.
Cassian smiles and nods at you when he notices you eyeing the blood trickling down his shoulder, it wasn't too deep of a wound and the blood was already stopping from the looks of it. Azriel did tell you Illyrians heal faster than most fae. Speaking of, you feel scarred fingers wrap around your wrist as you give Cassian a tentative smile of your own.
Your focus is stolen by Azriel, your eyes finding his instantly as he holds up your hand carefully, examining the wound and the blood that had been smeared all around you during the fight. He's wearing a conflicted expression, pain visible in his eyes. You've found Azriel shoulders too much guilt, even when what happened wasn't his fault.
His other hand reaches out to touch your neck, where a small cut overlaps with the pronounced scar on your skin. He's been blaming himself for your death for over a century, he must have been terrified of not being able to stop it again, even if it was happening right in front of him.
“I'm alright, Azriel,” you smile up at him, hoping to calm him down, “This will be gone by tomorrow.”
“We need to take you to a healer.” You shake your head, not wanting to stay behind and leave them to deal with Norris by themselves. Gently prying Azriel's hands away from you, you go to tell him as much.
“He's right,” Morrigan interjects, “I can take you to Madja and she'll fix it for you in an instant. I can bring you back right after.”
“It's just my hand.” You don't understand why they're making such a big deal out of it. This wouldn't need a healer, aside from some discomfort it won't hinder you in any way. They all have small wounds of their own that they seem to be ignoring.
“You're hurt.” There's a finality in Azriel's tone that is starting to rub you the wrong way. You understand he's concerned, you've tried to be considerate of his complicated feelings ever since you found out you had been his wife and the tragic way in which he had lost you, but that doesn't mean he can order you around.
“Barely.” You try to keep your voice leveled, pointing at Norris' unconscious form still covered in shadows. “And this is a lot more important. I need to know what he did.”
“I'll tell you everything we find. You don't need to go with us.”
“What?” You can feel the confusion taking over your features. Azriel has been forthcoming with any and every bit of information, you don't understand why he's trying to keep you away now.
“It's best if you don't come to the dungeon. You don't need to see that,” he offers, his face becoming irritatingly blank, the mask you know he uses as the Night Court's Spymaster. This only makes your anger spike even faster.
“See what?,” you challenged, head tilting to the side, “Do you think I never tortured anyone?” Your voice rises with every word, annoyance taking over your body. “I know the female you married was much different from what I am now, and I don't know if she let you order her around like this, but I'm not her.”
“I'm not ordering you-” Azriel's face falls at your words but you're too far gone to even try to interpret what it's written in his eyes, to even listen to what he has to say.
“It sure sounds like you are.”
Rhysand stands between you two before the argument can escalate further. “This is not the time to be fighting. We need to take him to a safe place before he regains conscience. I can only keep him down for so long.” He eyes Azriel for a moment, studying his features as some sort of understanding takes over his own. “Mor will take you to a healer,” he holds up a hand as you open your mouth to argue back, “It will only take a moment and then you can meet us in the dungeon. We won't start without you. I promise.”
By the expression on his face and authority behind his words, you know trying to argue with the High Lord won't take you anywhere right now. He's too used to calling all the shots and you can't change his mind in a matter of minutes, not when there's a much more pressing situation on your hands. You need to choose your battles.
You simply turn to Morrigan, ignoring the hazel eyes staring straight into your soul. “Take me to your healer then. The sooner I get this done the better.” She nods at you, extending her hand as she winnows you both back to Velaris.
The adrenaline of the fight started wearing off as the healer, Madja, worked on your hand, stitching skin back together with expert ease. As much as it had annoyed you to be sent to the infirmary, you could admit the pain had been worse than you expected as your body calmed down. It still wouldn't have been much of a problem to warrant that amount of concern.
Morrigan simply watches as the old fae works on you. She tried to talk to you about Azriel but you pushed her away, not wanting to hear any explanations from her. He's old enough to speak for himself, and you'll probably be eager to hear what he has to say after this whole situation is worked out. Right now, you only want to go back to where they're holding Norris so you can finally understand what he did to you and hopefully learn how to fix it.
Just as Madja is wrapping your hand in a white bandage, keeping the strong smelling ointment she spread in place, the healer speaks up for what feels like the first time tonight. “That boy loves you more than anything. Give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you,” she finishes as she pats your hand softly. “All done.”
Her words give you pause. It does make you wonder how obvious your and Azriel's love had been that everyone seems to have no doubt in their minds that he would do anything for you. He seems to be very private in his affairs, especially personal ones. It also makes you curious if you'd known her before, it's more than likely since she's the Inner Circle's healer. You push those thoughts away, knowing you wouldn't ask the old healer about your relationship before anyway. You were so close to getting your memories, you needed to focus on that.
“Thank you.” She gives you one more smile before gathering her things, making you stand up and rush to Morrigan, who has a somewhat nostalgic and understanding smile on her face. She holds onto your shoulder before you even have the chance to say anything, knowing what your next words were going to be.
As soon as you winnow in, you understand why they called this place a dungeon. There really was no other way to describe the dark, stone covered space. The air was thick with humidity and blood, the kind you know has lingered for centuries and will never be completely washed out. You have to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, it was truly close to pitch black inside, the perfect environment to torment someone in, especially when you're the shadowsinger.
You never let your eyes meet Azriel's when you walk in, even as he turned to you, only allowing yourself to focus on your former handler, heavy chains on each of his wrists as he stood on his knees in the middle of a cell. He was already awake, it seems they did start without you. Rhysand speaks into your mind, sensing the incoming protest. He woke up sooner than we expected. He's been trained for this.
A sigh almost escapes you. Norris was trained for every possibility, this was going to be a gruesome session. As much as you were arguing with Azriel to stay, the truth is this is not something you ever enjoyed. So many in the guild did this sort of thing for pleasure but you only ever tortured anyone when it was strictly necessary and they had truly done something awful to warrant it. You can only hope it at least gives you the information you've been searching for and the freedom you never even dared to dream about.
“I almost thought you weren't going to show your face again.” It's infuriating how unaffected Norris sounds even though his blood already stains Azriel's favorite dagger.
“Wouldn't miss this show for the world,” you admit. He was one of the few individuals you believed deserved this and much worse, for all he has done to not only you but so many others. You're almost certain your conscience won't bother you for this.
Up until tonight your feelings for him were passive. You never particularly liked him, but you always felt obligated to show him respect as your superior, there were also less than ideal consequences if you let your true feelings show. Still, there had been some small, stupid hope that he didn't really do all those awful things to you. He trained you and taught you a lot, knowledge that you know has helped you in a lot of bad situations, that has kept you alive through them, and will continue to do so in the future.
A sickening smirk overtakes his face at your response. “I always liked you better when you acted like one of us.” Fury and shame travels across your body, but Azriel moves before you get the chance to, slashing his blade across Norris' chest, a sharp noise of pain escaping him. The gesture almost makes you smile, as twisted as that may sound.
“You'd do well to watch your mouth. My Spymaster doesn't take well to disrespect,” Rhysand's voice sounds different, arrogant but nothing short of furious.
“Still hung up on her? Since you stopped searching I thought you found yourself a new shiny toy.” Azriel's fist connects with Norris' jaw as he gets the last words out, a laugh escaping him despite the flow of blood rushing through his teeth for being able to rattle the shadowsinger.
You decide to step in, not wanting to let Azriel speak or act for you when you're more than capable of doing it yourself. And knowing how much he blames himself for your situation, for stopping his search when you were alive all this time. You'd be damned if you let Norris hurt him in any way. He's done more than enough.
“So you admit you were the one who found me.” You walk until you're standing over Norris' beaten body, right next to Azriel, close enough he has to adjust his wings not to touch you.
“Of course, you were one of my finest projects.” You let out an acknowledging hum, temperature dropping around you as your icy power rose to your fingertips. The pain would be a lot worse if you kept his body temperature down, you want his whole body to ache. This was going to be a long night, thankfully hurting Norris was nothing short of enjoyable.
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#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel angst#azriel fic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel fanfiction#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x you#divider by saradika
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Billy Russo x reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle
Summary: A night out with the boys turned into something you never expected.
Notes: I was asked by a lovely anon to make a fic with Frank and Matt. Bonus if I could throw in Billy. Well, ask and you shall receive. It's the first time I've tried writing a foursome. A lot of poles, holes and peeps to keep track off. Hope i succeeded.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Warnings: Oh, where do i begin? SMUT! 18+. Exhibitionism/voyerism, fingering (f receiving, both vaginal and anal), handjobs, grinding, unprotected sex (vaginal and anal. Remember lube and wrap up irl, folks), double penetration, gay/bi sex. This is a lot, y'all.
Words: 1.5 K
It was one of those evenings that you never want to end. Scattered across the table is empty beer and wine bottles, another few half drunk. Frank is sitting in the armchair in Matt’s apartment, Matt casually situated on his lap and peppering Frank's neck with soft kisses as you and Billy were sitting on the couch. It had started as a few friends having dinner, now turned into you all being very tipsy as the evening slowly turns into night.
As the night progressed, you found it harder and harder to keep your eyes of Frank and Matt, their touches growing bolder. The conversation had been rather normal, considering the lives you all lived, although a bit slurred by the amount of alcohol. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve ever seen the guys this intoxicated before or if Billy has even noticed the show unfolding right across from the two of you.
You are not even sure Frank and Matt are aware of what they are doing. First it was just soft touches, then kisses peppered onto each other's skin, which was enough to catch your attention. But the more they drank, the bolder they became. They seem like they don’t know what their actions are doing to you.
You can't tear your eyes away as Frank sucks gently on Matt’s neck, the look of pleasure on Matt’s face as Frank gives him yet another love bite. The alcohol seemed to make Matt lose his inhibitions, the blush on his cheeks only caused by the wine and not by the position he’s in.
You suddenly feel Billy shift beside you. Glancing down, you can’t help but notice bulge in his pants. He does nothing to hide it, his eyes fixed on Frank and Matt. You would lie if you said you’d never thought of Billy in a sexual way, but now as you glance between his legs, all you can think about is how he was like in bed.
You try to dismiss the thoughts as a mere result of too many beers, but you know it’s a lie. Eyes again on Frank and Matt, unable to tear your gaze away from Frank’s fingers. Slowly the fingers run up Matt’s thigh, just barely touching his bulge before sliding back down. A pattern he repeats and each time Frank’s fingers graze Matt’s bulge, he bites his lip.
The odd thing is how casual the men are. Just sitting there with the conversation still flowing lightly as if all three of them aren’t hard.
Without even realizing it, you had moved your hand to Billy’s thigh. When did you move it? Whether you’re affected by the show before you, the wine or simply just the intoxicating scent of Billy, you don’t know, but you slide your hand up higher. Billy seems to lean into your touch, his breathing now strained.
At this point you’re so turned on you need a release for the ache between your legs. You let your hand wander from Billy’s thigh down between his legs, cupping his cock through the denim. He responds with a sharp intake, his eyes begging you not to stop.
Unable to hold back any longer, Billy leans forward and claim your lips in a kiss. Soft at first, but soon turns heated as his tongue slip into your mouth.
You melt into the kiss, letting your eyes gaze at Frank and Matt one more time before closing your eyes. They were lost in each other, all conversation now forgotten. Consumes by lust, Billy pulls you onto his lap, kissing you more passionately by the minute. You moan softly when Billy’s hands start roaming your body, cupping your breasts. His thumb rubs gently circles on your sensitive buds, making you shiver.
As Billy’s mouth moves to your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin, your eyes wander to Frank and Matt. While you were lost in Billy’s touch, Matt moved on top of Frank, both of them naked from the waist up. Matt’s soft moans fills the air as his hips roll against Frank, a soft ‘fuck Red’ spoken in passion.
Between kisses, Billy pulls your t-shirt over your head, exposing your soft skin to him. When his mouth latch onto your nipple, his name falls from your lips in a soft whisper.
One hand slide between your bodies, making your shiver as his fingers touch you right where you need him the most, your panties already damp. Your soft moans now attract the attention from Frank and Matt, both of them stopping and looking at you two now.
Frank quickly opens Matt’s pants and his own, releasing both their cocks. Holding them both in his big hand, they watch you and Billy as he pumps them slowly. They look as Billy’s fingers hike up your skirt, pulling your panties to the side and make you gasp, when his fingers find your aching clit.
Frank and Matt can’t tear their eyes of you, seeing the way your back arch when Billy pushes his fingers inside you, his mouth capturing your nipple again. No inhibitions left, you let out a big moan, letting them all know how good Billy makes you feel.
Frank let’s go of Matt as he slips from Franks lap. Matt kneels, pulling Franks pants all the way off, before removing his own. With their eyes glued to you and Billy, their kisses turn heated as they stroke each other, enjoying the show.
Your hand finds its way into Billys pants, palming his hard cock. Pulling your hand out, you unzip his pants, allowing you to better stroke him. Billy groans when your hands wrap around his length, his own hands going down to his waistband, pulling his pants further down.
You pull your skirt up higher, exposing your ass to Frank and Matt as you lift yourself up before slowly lowering yourself onto Billy’s hard cock.
Matt looks at Frank, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Frank just gives a soft smirk, disappearing for a second, only to return with some lube.
Your eyes spring open when you feel a finger softly rubbing your other entrance. Looking over your shoulder, you see Matt smile back at you as his finger tease your opening. Frank is kissing Matt’s neck, looking into your eyes. They give you the opportunity to say no. But you don’t. You had never had an experience like this and who knew if it would ever happen again? So you urge Matt on with a soft moan, begging him not to stop.
His finger slips in, causing you to whimper at the new sensation. His finger slowly works you open as you ride Billy’s cock, feeling an ecstasy you’ve never felt before.
Matt adds another finger as Frank wraps his hand around Matt’s cock, pumping it as Matt gets you ready. Frank is rock hard against Matt’s ass, the tip leaking at the sight before him.
As Matt slips his fingers from your ass, he feels Frank’s fingers at his own, groaning as he places the tip of his cock against your tight entrance. Gently, he pushes into you, marveling in the feeling of Billy’s cock, only your thin walls separating them.
You whimper at the sensation of two cocks filling you, both of them pushing you closer to the edge. Frank, not wanting to be left out, pushes Matt’s legs apart, watching as both Matt and Billy’s cocks thrust into you.
Frank push into Matt, inch by inch, feeling how Matt clench around him. He wasn’t gonna last long, the sight and noises from the others already threatening to push him over the edge. Frank stills, just for a moment, to join in the pace with the rest of you and then start thrusting into Matt.
Slowly, as you all find the rhythm, the pace quickens, bringing you all closer to a much-needed release. One by one you come. First Billy, filling you to the brim with his cum as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The feeling of Billy falling apart for you, makes you come with a soft moan, his name falling from your lips.
When you come, you clench around Matt’s cock, the sensation triggering Matt to come hard and that in turn makes Frank come, the sound of Matt’s ecstasy too much for him.
The air is filled with soft pants as you all come down from your highs, none of you moving as your bodies still shiver in the aftershocks of your shared pleasure.
Slowly, you start to detach from each other, all of the men very soft with you, making sure you’re okay. The atmosphere in the room is a bit awkward, none of you looking the others in the eyes. That’s until Billy chuckles, breaking the tension with a simple question.
“Same time next week?”
You all smile, not sure if you’ll ever do it again, but... never say never.
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#billy russo x reader#matt murdock x reader#frank castle x reader#matt murdock x frank castle#billy russo fanfiction#matt murdock fanfiction#frank castle fanfiction#billy russo#matt murdock#frank castle
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Ooh, what if Price/Ghost/Gaz/Laswell came across their childhood best friend? Reuniting with reader who was there for them through thick and thin, until they joined the military and lost contact 🙏
I've been reading/re-reading some of your works!! They're so good! Also, I'm sorry those teenagers were pricks to you, hope you have some better days soon!
Hello! I have to say, I'm genuinely surprised anyone reads my rambles in the tags, I didn't think anyone would, but thank you! You don't know how much I appreciate it! Today was already a much better day, which is why I decided to write and post two requests today! This is a lovely request, very nice! Love me some platonic stuff as well! Sometimes all you need is a good friend by your side!
Price, Gaz, Ghost and Laswell Come Across their Childhood Best Friend
Price: He actually thinks about you from time to time, more often than he’d like to admit. You were a good person in his eyes, always there for him no matter what he went through, which is something he could appreciate. His childhood wasn’t particularly bad, but he had some days where he would have loved to simply throw in the towel, which is normal, though. Price was a rowdy guy when he was young, so you likely either went along with some of his ideas or were kind enough to talk him out of them. Either way, he appreciated having you around, so seeing you again would be quite the surprise, he didn’t think he ever would again. If he’s on a mission, then the talk will be kept short, but afterwards he’ll make sure to seek you out again, catch up a bit and ask you how you’ve been. Price didn’t expect to have missed you this much, but he only realized that once he saw you. You’ll either be going to one of the cafes you used to visit nearby, or maybe sit down on a park bench and maybe eat some sandwiches together, just like you used to during the good old times. Since you’d likely be around his age, so roughly 37-38, you’d have a lot to tell. Roughly 22 years you need to catch up on. He’s willing to talk to you, tell you about his career, how he's been doing, about the people he’s met and how he’s feeling. Considering this much time has passed, there’s a good chance you’ve both mellowed out quite a bit, but it isn’t unpleasant, you’re both mature people now. He likes hearing about everything you’ve accomplished, it’s like you became a new person during all those years. It’s so lovely to him, he sort of can’t believe it. Whether it’s a coincidence, or maybe you sought him out, it doesn’t matter, spending time with you again brings back all those memories he thought he had since forgotten about. He laughs, he smiles, he frowns. He’s a bit more expressive with you, but really wants to reminisce about the good old times. Even so, he hopes to be able to see you again more often, so you’ll likely exchange numbers. This time he tries to make sure to not lose contact with you and will text you every once in a while.
Gaz: When he was a child, Gaz was a lot calmer than he is today, a very quiet kid. He had always been a good boy, a gift in the eyes of many, but he wasn’t as active a child as one would imagine. Ergo he didn’t have very many friends until he became older either, but he was loyal to the few he did have. You were one of them. As you slowly started to grow apart, he started to miss you, but didn’t want to bother you either, as much as he would have loved to do so. So I’m sure you can imagine the surprise on his face when he found you at the mall the two of you would hang out in during rainy days. Gaz has become more confident, so he’d immediately walk up to you once he recognises you and start talking. Like Price, he’d be pleasantly surprised to just see you in such a mundane place, but won’t question it. Or complain about it either. In fact, if you’re not carrying anything heavy, he’d be the one to suggest going out to eat or drink something. Again, either a small and quiet cafe or a small restaurant. Maybe you’d go to a place you liked when you were kids, if it’s still open. Regardless, it’d be hard to get him to shut up with how excited he is to have you around. It’s a calm kind of excitement, but he’s happy, and that’s what’s important. It’s very likely that he’ll pay for your food, even if you insist he shouldn’t, but it’s not like he has any other use for his money. Chatting with him about the good old times is very sweet, he likes to bring up all the good things. But eventually, he’ll thank you for everything you’ve done for him and how happy he was to have you as a friend. Considering there were very few people who tried to get to know him, he was quite lonely, but you fixed that. You made everything better. From the pain on his knee when he fell as you gave him a band-aid, to the pain in his heart when the other children ridiculed him. Like Price, he’ll ask you if you want his number so you could continue to keep in contact with each other. He knows it’ll likely never be the same again, but he can pretend everything is as good as it used to be back when he was young. He’d love to spend time with you again.
Ghost: This man has had one of the worst childhoods imaginable. He was abused by his father, and the only friends he had aside from you were his mother and his brother. Barely anyone was kind towards him or accepted him considering he had always been the weird kid. No one but you wanted to spend time with him. Needless to say, Ghost had taken a liking to you when he was younger. You spent your time with him, you even defended him when some of the other kids ridiculed him. And now, 12 years later, he finds you running after a coin you accidentally dropped on the ground, bumping into him as you did so. He’d be wide eyed at first, a bit quiet as well. Once you left he never would have thought he’d ever find someone like you again, but here you were, just as quiet and surprised to see him. Ghost would pick up the coin for you and ask you how you’ve been. It had been a while. Although he’s not usually one to smile, especially not in public, you could see him faintly do so. He’s become a quiet man, so he won’t be talking too much about everything, especially not everything that happened after he joined the military, but he’s more than willing to talk to you about other matters. His life has become better over the past few years, but that doesn’t mean he isn't scarred still. He’ll offer you a walk to just about anywhere, really, even if the final destination will always end up being one of the places you used to hang out in as children. An abandoned house, a park, a mall. Manchester is a fairly large city, so there’s much to see. It would be a bit rough to catch up with him entirely, but he loves to hear about everything you’ve accomplished. You’ve become such a mature person, it warms his heart to see how far you’ve come in life. Back then, when everything was so bleak, when neither of you thought you’d see your 28th birthdays, everything was different. But now, you’re smiling at him as you’re drinking your milkshake. You seem to be better off, and so is he. It makes him nostalgic to see all of this, but he’s happy. Ghost will offer you to come to his home if you want. Even now, he still loves you dearly as a friend and couldn’t be happier about the fact he’s found you again by chance.
Laswell: When she was young she was a healthy mix of rowdy and good. While she never caused much trouble, she did stand up for herself when she needed to. However, this alone was enough to get the attention of some awful people. People either liked her or hated her, there usually was no inbetween for them. Some people did try to bully her, but it never ended well since she would fight for herself, plus she had some good friends who would do the same for her. However, none of them could compare to you, as you were her best friend. All her joys she would celebrate with you, and all of her sadness she would share with you. Back then, things were simpler, something small meant the end of the world, but you always had each other’s backs. Laswell tries to not think about you too much since you slowly drifting apart is quite painful to her. As she grew older, she learned to live with the pain and it didn’t bother her as much. Still, she was very happy when you were sending her a message after all this time. She may have been at work, but responded to you immediately, having missed you just as much as you missed her. Once you meet up it’s evident you’ve both grown a lot older. Laswell has been working for the CIA since her twenties, so it’s been almost thirty years. You have a lot to catch up on, but you take your time, eating at a fancy restaurant and spending hours there, laughing at everything that’s happened. Laswell would show you photos of all the places she’s visited during her downtime. She’s seen almost the entire world, some of it with her wife, some of it without her. Although she doesn’t usually tell people she’s married, to another woman too, she knows you’re a safe person, you’ve always accepted her as she was. Considering how happy you looked when you saw her wife, she continued to tell you about the world. But you get your chance to tell her about everything that’s happened to you as well. If the conversation goes especially well, Laswell might invite you to a few outings every once in a while, after you’ve met up a few more times. Plus you get to meet her wife eventually as well, which is a real privilege. Considering how much she loves her and wants to protect her, not many know about her. It’ll be fun either way since you get to make more memories together again.
#cod#cod x reader#john price#john price x reader#price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#kate laswell#kate laswell x reader#seeing that someone read my rambles actually really cheered me up yesterdy so thank you for that!#this request was really sweet. I have a friend who I miss so dearly even now#I still dream of her from time to time. she was my best friend but I never was hers#Sometimes I wish I had the guts to text her but I'm awkward and can't hold a conversation to save my life so I'll have to live like that#oh well! it happens unfortunately! wish it didn't though!#anyway as much as I love to romance the lads and the lasses there's something so wholesome about friendship too!#especially a really good one where you can goof around and have fun and give each other sweet gifts!#Love friendship! friendships are fun! I'm glad I get to write platonic stuff every once in a while as well!#I'm not a romantic person at all irl but I can appreciate a good friendship!#thank you for this request it was very cool and epic!
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𝟐𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Summary: Everyone has their own coping mechanisms when dealing with stress, their way of simply forgetting whatever was happening in their life, at least for a moment. Yours happened to come in the form of baking in the late hours of the night as you tried to ignore your worries for Simon as he was on his mission.
OR
You bake at 2AM as you wait for Simon to come home.
Warnings: None! Only the fluffiest of fluff, you know the drill.
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Notes: This definitely didn't come to mind as I myself was baking at 2AM, no! Never! (side note, the cookies and cinnamon rolls came out great, hehe). Anyway hi, this is my first time writing for Simon, recently fell down the COD rabbit hole and all so apologies if anything is off. Aside from that, this is just a short lil fic that started off as a headcanon that spiralled out of control. Happy reading my lovelies!
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You're up late at night, again. Not that you could help it, thoughts were flying through your head at just about a million miles per minute. About how worried you are about Simon on his mission, about what could have happened to him, if he was uninjured, healthy, safe. It was like this every time he had a mission, and yet every time it became no less difficult. Being a part of an elite task force was an honour yes, but with honour comes the dangers of being placed on the most difficult of missions. And while even though you were at home, safe and sound, it scared you, the unknowing of what could happen to him. But more than that, you missed him. More than anything.
So to get your mind off of all the 'what-ifs' in your head, you bake. All sorts of things, cinnamon buns, apple pie, those lemon crinkle cookies you knew Simon adored so much. Following a recipe step by step to ensure a lovely end product managed to distract you at least for a bit, until you were left to your own devices once more after it was done. But it acted as salvation while it lasted, allowing an escape from the dark corners of your mind.
✧
Music fills the kitchen as you hum along, measuring and mixing ingredients as you swayed to the beat.
Your focus is entirely on what's in front of you, the task was for getting your mind off of Simon after all, so unbeknownst to you the door opens as the one person you were trying to distract yourself from comes home.
He walks in almost silently, there was a reason his callsign was Ghost, and drops his gear down by the entrance to go in search of you. It wasn't difficult, the lights acting as a pathway straight to where you were, the music going along with it. Stepping quietly, Simon makes his way over to the kitchen and for a moment he just stands leaning on the doorframe watching you flit about. An impossible fondness fills his eyes and chest as he does, you being so in you element always left him feeling that way. You doing anything really with him being there to witness it, because it means that he's finally home, at long last. But any place he could call home, so long as you were a part of it.
Once you finally stood still for a bit, mixing a part of the recipe, Simon makes his way over to you. Without a word he wraps his arms around your waist as you let out a gasp of surprise, tensing for a moment at the unexpectedness before relaxing once more as you realize who it is. In an instant the bowl is forgotten as you turn in his arms.
"Simon," you say softly, a smile overtaking your features as you return his embrace.
"Darling," he says, tone matching yours as he gazes into your eyes.
Nothing more needed to be said, he was home, and that was enough.
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Notes: And done! Just a really short fic, I think maybe even the shortest I've ever written, but sweet nonetheless. I hope you enjoyed!
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty mw2#call of duty mwii#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you
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