#it is a part of those memories and it is a part of me now
Text
The Fox and The Fawn
High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Five
Summary - After an intense meeting at the boarder, Eris and Lucien return home tight lipped and unwilling to ruin the night, and you discover something you thought was impossible.
Warnings - angst, fluff, Rhys being a grade A prick, our favourite found family back at it again, drinking, mentions of sex, some Eris background, Lucien being a meddler, a little trip down memory lane
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
HAPPY 600! 🥳
Be careful.
Eris would ensure he was. For you, he would contain his fiery rage, he would conform himself to the mask he had to wear around those from the Night Court. He would do anything to make sure he returned home to you.
Part of him was glad that Lucien had coaxed him away the moment he had secured you inside Fir Manor in the arms of Nesta and Elain, if he saw those rounded eyes of worry, he was sure that he may not have been able to walk away from you.
Sweat coated his brow as his weight crunched at the leaves and fallen branches beneath his feet. Of course Rhys had chosen to meet where Autumn met Winter, Kallias cared little when the High Lord of the Night Court would prowl onto his lands, and Rhys wouldn't dare to stand in Summer or Spring after what he and his Inner Circle had done to both of those courts.
The air had turned cold and the ground frozen a few miles back, the cold shrill of Winter swarmed around Eris and Lucien, and they were glad that they had made the smart decision to shroud themselves in their fur lined coats for what was sure to be a frosty meeting indeed. Though, Eris was glad that he had chosen the Winter boarder to say his piece, it meant that he was as far as possible away from you.
They had winnowed most of the way, hounds in tow bar Willow who had refused him to stay with you, coiling up on the porch and watching her master disappear into the forest. Lucien had groaned when they had landed at the foot of a rather large hill lined with an array of snow-kissed trees, Eris had smirked at the sound but willed his brother onward.
"Promise me that you won't let him get under your skin." There was still an ocean full of unspoken words between the two brothers, ones that voiced Eris’ regret and longing, that voiced all of guilt and desire to make things right.
In a way, it was easier for him to convince Lucien of his true nature now that they had something in common bar their looks, it was the shared need to protect you, to let you grow into your own person and watch on as you drove down your own path.
Eris frowned softly, he couldn't exactly blame Lucien for thinking that such a thing was possible, he hadn't exactly played the role of a loving brother or male in general. "I won't, Lucien. There is nothing he could say or offer to make me even consider it." That being handing you back over to the Night Court.
It wasn't something that he needed to say, neither of them wanted to even think about it as they continued upward.
"I know that you have no reason to trust anything I say after everything I've done to you," Lucien fell to Eris' side and glanced sidelong at him, not knowing what was coming next, "But I hope you can believe me when I say that I won't let any harm come to her. I have abided by every decision she has made, all I wish for is her happiness. I want her to grow and build her own life. All I can do is gently nudge her in the direction she is hesitant to follow, but I would never make her do anything she didn't wish to."
There was a pause, a comfortable silence as Lucien came to a certain realisation and grinned, "You feel something for her, don't you?" Eris felt the heat rise to his cheeks, the cold of the air making the redness more prominent on them, Lucien laughed, "I knew it from the moment you fought me to sit next to her at that dinner," his smile faltered and he stopped walking, he examined his brother, the one whose entire façade faltered the moment he noticed that you were around, "After everything that's happened, y/n deserves a chance to find her own passions away from the influence of anyone."
"I know that-"
"I wasn't finished," Lucien rolled his eyes and continued the ascent, passing Eris who trailed him by a step, "Despite everything, I do believe that she's better off here, with you. It's like you see her like how Nesta, Elain and I do but in a slightly different way, you see her in the way she deserves to be seen, in the most candid and gentle way possible," Lucien looked to Eris with understanding, "She deserves that, to be seen and understood and listened to, to be involved in every conversation, to be able to show everyone who she really is.”
The conversation died at the exact moment when the Vanserra brothers reached the apex of the mound, spotting the three Illyrians through the break in the trees that coiled around their figures, as if in warning to stay far far away.
The mask.
Right.
Rolling his shoulders, Eris was ashamed to drown his soul in the brutal essence which he often forced himself into, and he never wanted you to see just how bad it could be. Whisps of his breath floated from his lips, curling upward and freezing in the air.
"Thank you for waiting. Lucien couldn't keep up," the namesake scoffed in response as the pair approached the boarder, thanking the Mother of that intact shimmer which told them that the wards very much still up, and very strong. Eris folded his arms over his chest, finding the nearest tree and leaning on its rough bark before drawling, "You got me here, Rhys. Better start talking."
It was clear that Rhys was on the brink of losing his sanity, his eyes were cold and distant, more onyx than their usual violet hue, his wings were furled around his sides, and Lucien nor Eris could tell if he meant them to be intimidating. He appeared to them dishevelled, messy black hair, a certain paleness to his skin, an unhinged glare in his eye.
"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," he motioned to Azriel and Cassian, the latter of which looked more broken than Lucien had ever seen him, no doubt reeling in the loss of his mate, "I hope we don't keep you for long."
"Tell me what you want, Rhys. I don't have time for pleasantries," Eris plucked an invisible thread from the stitching of his coat and looked toward the High Lord.
The fake politeness was doing little to convince Eris of anything other than that Rhys surely was the most manipulative male he had ever come across, he stole that crown right from Beron's decaying corpse.
Resisting a snarl, Rhys exhaled deeply, unclenching his fists as he began a perfectly practiced speech, "My sister is not quite herself at the moment, I fear that she has made the wrong decision in residing in your court, her mental state has always been rather brittle," he took a step toward the boarder, his toes kissing the edge of that shimmering glare, "Give her back to us so that I can ensure that she receives the proper care."
"If y/n desires to return to the Night Court then she can, I'm not stopping her from doing whatever she wishes," Eris replied flatly, completely unphased to the words that were making his blood boil in his veins, did Rhys really have the gall to suggest that you were insane?
Azriel spoke then, realising that there was no realm of possibility where Eris would willingly give you back, "You stole her from the Day Court. Some would call it war-inducing."
There it was, the threat, Eris smiled, "Is that what you want? Another war?"
"I will do whatever is necessary to ensure her safe return to her home court."
Lucien moved to Eris' side, his muscles contracting with anger, "The Night Court is no longer her home," his voice was stoic and unnerving, his gaze daggered between the three Illyrians, "Eris did not steal her, she decided with her own strength to walk away from you, and she is already better for it."
Then, Rhys grinned, his power rattling against the wards around the Autumn Court, "I think you'll find, Lucien, that y/n belongs to me, she is property of the Night Court, her blood is a powerful tool that we can use to solidify our line. Since she is unmated, with no claim to her hand, it does mean that as long as she breathes, she is mine."
The words were a statement, and Rhys' voice did not falter. It was an old tradition, one marred in hatred and sadness. You were the daughter of a High Lord, and when he died, the archaic responsibility of marrying you into a suitable line fell to Rhys.
"I do suggest that you hand her over, I would hate to decimate your court, Eris. Especially when you've been working so hard to rectify the tyranny of your father," Rhys' hand drifted over his heart in mock sympathy.
There was no way in Hel that Eris would ever do such a thing, and he knew that there was no easy way for Rhys to willingly wage war on another court after what Prythian had only begun fully recovering from.
It was risky, but he couldn't let Rhys think he had him pinned to the frozen dirt like a snow fox to a bunny, "Rally your armies then, Rhysand, because there's no reality that exists where I would ever hand her over to you," then a feline smirk consumed his face, he ran his hand through his hair of fire and struck hard, "It seems to me that you only wish for her return so that no one learns what she is capable of. I intend to let her find out, and perhaps when the others realise too, of her story and what you've done, we may have High Queen on our hands."
Darkness exploded from him, his arms elongated into talons, his wings grew and creaked at the stretch like leather, he roared, an inhuman sound that sent shivers prickling down Eris and Lucien's spines; and even Azriel and Cassian had to step back with wide eyes at the sight of it.
Bingo.
With a graceful bow, Eris turned on his heels, beckoning his growling hounds whose hackles had raised to the skies, "I wish you a safe journey home, Rhysand. Send Feyre our collective regards," he called over his shoulder, not even flinching at the roar that flew threw the air.
They had what they wanted, the reason for Rhys' insistence, he knew that you had the power within you to be granted the highest honour of their world, and he had worked his entire existence to stop that from happening.
If Rhys wanted a war, then that's what he would get. Eris would rain hellfire over Prythian, and he knew for a fact that you would stand beside him smiling the entire time.
Eris and Lucien couldn't have been more relieved to be back at Fir Manor, the warmth of the estate shook their frozen bones back to life and they bristled off the jagged edges left by the words exchanged with Rhys.
Stones clunked together under their feet, but a hand on his arm stopped Eris moving to the house that was glowing with the essence of you. Golden light emitted from the windows and kissed the cobbled path before it, and girlish laughter drifted from the open windows along with the most divine smell.
"Before we go back in, I have to ask you something," Eris tensed and turned to his brother, his hair was unbound down the back of his fur coat, his mechanical eye surveyed him inquisitively, "Did you mean what you said back there? You'd go to war for her?"
Eris could had scoffed at the question, he removed his arm from his brothers grip and turned to the manor, smiling at the sight of you, Nesta, and Elain all dancing before the window, the neck of a wine bottle in your fingers and a sweet melody falling from your lips. Elain was cradling Willow in her arms who looked thrilled to be involved whilst Nesta had her own arms wound around your waist.
"Would you go to war for Elain?"
"Without question."
The sound of Eris' message being received was enough, but he spoke, "I have a feeling it won't come to that though. Call it a hunch."
Lucien hummed, not quite sure of what Eris meant, but followed after him as he paced down the path and up the porch steps, flinging the door open and grinning at your startled state as you fumbled to hide the wine bottle behind your back, "You're back," you whispered to him, the strap of your form fitting green dress falling over your shoulder which you didn't move to lift as you gazed at him.
His face was prickled with cold, his cheeks flush from walking into the heated manor from the wild winter winds; Eris shrugged off his coat and lay the garment over the arm of one of the armchairs of the seating area, pulling his sleeves up to expose his forearms, "I'm back."
"I'm here too, just in case anyone wanted to know," Lucien all but rolled his eyes at you as he passed, pressing his lips to Elain's forehead who fell into his embrace with Willow still firmly swaddled to her body, "Who's been cooking? I could smell it from outside," he delved deeper into the house despite Elain's scolding telling him that dinner wasn't ready yet.
Nesta followed the pair with a groan, taking the bottle of wine from behind your back and muttering something about saving the meal from Lucien's paws, leaving you and Eris alone.
Fiddling with your fingers, you took a step toward him, noticing a strand of his hair fall over his face and watching as his fingers moved to rake it back, such a thigh-clenching thing to witness. "How was it?"
"It was fine," his eyes still held a cold glare to them, one that was waning the longer it was fixated upon you, "We got what we needed."
"Which was?”
The nerves radiating from you were making even Eris feel nervous, he tiled his head to the side and took a step closer to you, his hands at his sides, "Not worthy enough to talk of now. Let's have tonight as a newly formed found family, and tomorrow, we can talk. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Another step forward was taken by you, the hem of your dress swaying at the motion. You were so close to him that he could feel your warmth seep into his bones, so close that his cold breath made your own cheeks flush red.
It felt natural, to close the gap and fling your arms around him, to bury your face into his chest and deeply inhale his scent like you needed that to know that he had come back to you. There was a single beat where Eris just stood there frozen to the ground, but he slowly ran his fingers up your sides until one of them rested around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head, his nose rested atop of you, his lips ghosting at your hairline.
"I was worried," you admitted, squeezing him closer, thinking that if you didn't tell him that then he would think you weren't appreciative of the position he was now in.
Eris chuckled, it was low and rough, swirls of fire danced around your figures and his thumb rubbed small circles into the back of your neck, "You can't be rid of me that easily, Fawn."
The scampering of steps made you pull back from him, and he yearned to hold you again without a care about who would see and what they would say. Lucien entered the room once more holding a beautifully decorated cupcake in his hand, a raised brow on his face and fighting a smirk once he noted your closeness, "These cakes are amazing, y/n."
"Thank you, Lucien," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, your eyes drowsy with drunkenness.
"I sent for dinner for your three, why are you cooking?" Eris asked, confused, only a fool would turn down food from the Autumn Court chefs.
Nesta shrugged, plopping herself down on one of the deep rooted chairs, licking her fingers free from icing, "Elain sent them away, says she can do better."
"Which you're now all ruining thanks to her cakes," Elain's hands were on her hips and she pointed to you, her apron was coated in flour, her hair was strewn up and messy, and it was clear that she was busy cooking before you and Nesta had pulled her from the kitchen to dance, "They are rather lovely, y/n. You should be thrilled."
Eris' heart fluttered as you turned to him, a hopeful glint in your eye, "Would you like to try one? I think you'd like them," he couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words really.
The firelight made you look ethereal, the golden flames danced in the glistening pools in your eyes, so pristine that he could see himself in them, "I'm afraid that I don't have much of a sweet tooth," your smile faltered, "I'm sorry."
The gaze he felt on his face was enough to make him warm the blood in warning to its owner, Lucien coughed, red faced and watering eyes and you turned to him with worry before he strained the words, "Sorry, crumb," a lie.
"Okay," you whistled, not at all noticing the silent daggers drifting between the two Vanserra brothers, which was odd considering how observant you usually were, perhaps it was the wine floating to your head.
Maybe you were letting your guard down and didn't feel the need to be watching everyone anymore.
Eris watched you retreat into the kitchen with Elain, waiting until you were out of view before he readied himself for Lucien, "I cannot remember a time when you denied yourself a dessert."
"Things change."
"Not with you they don't," Lucien stared after his mate, his eyes full of love and desire, full of possibility and thoughts of the future.
When the news had spread of Lucien and Elain's mating, Eris was truly happy for them, out of everyone he knew his brother was the one most deserving of that happiness, of that type of love. Eris couldn't say the same for himself, he didn't think he deserved any light after the things he had done, after the atrocities he had inflicted over the course of his existence. Having a mate was something he could never allow himself to dream of, everything he touched turned to ask, his fire and mask too cold to allow anyone close enough.
Eris had depleted his worth, he never let anyone touch him, he would cower from it like a wounded animal. Even when he laid with the courtesans, their time together was restricted to just sex, no kissing, no holding one another, just unsatisfying sex that made him bathe in self-loathing whilst his partner relished in the feeling of being fucked by fire.
There was always a part of him that felt unworthy, his father had gone as far to tell him so, multiple times. Every touch sent him spiralling into memories, ones of mutilation and marring, but when you had touched him, when you had wrapped your arms around him and held him close, he didn't feel the need to shrink away or unwind you from his body. All he wanted to do was keep you there forever, and that, that was something remarkable on its own.
You may have been Prythian's darkest secret, but he found you to be the only thing worth fighting for.
His salvation.
It wasn't long after dinner that you had disappeared from view.
It didn't take Eris long to embark on his search from you, excusing himself from the table that had long since gone quiet without your teasing stories of your upbringing and playdates with the High Lord beside you.
Eris didn't think that you would remember your visits to Autumn when you were a child, thinking that you were too young to retain the memories that he had held onto tightly. You were such an innocent little thing back then, and he remembered his wonderment when you had seen the orange ring in your eyes, displaying his own fire to compare the two and enjoying the sound of your giggles far too much.
He was sure that there was talk of a union between the two of you, he remembered the hushed whispers and beaming smiles of pride as both sets of parents gazed at the two of you playing in the corner with Lucien and Rhys adjacent. Though, neither of your brothers could steal your attention away from the other.
It was what he had held onto all of those years apart, in the moment when the light began to dim and the abuse began to accelerate, in the times when he wondered where you had gone. There were gaps in his mind, like memories had been stolen and locked elsewhere because he couldn't truly remember the last time he had seen you before the time he had caught a glimpse of your wingless figure wandering the halls Under The Mountain.
Eris wandered down the halls of the manor, following your scent that clung to the walls, absentmindedly pondering where exactly he would place a portrait of you in the vast home.
The sound of gentle whimpers entered his earshot and he stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the side to listen harder. He knew that the whimpers were coming from you, they weren't scared ones, but ones of pain, and his heart raced in his chest at the mere thought of you being in any form of pain under his roof.
Knocking softly on the door to your room, his old room, the grandest chamber in the entire manor, he waited patiently and listened to the shuffle of your feet and the soft padding of your companion before the door opened to reveal your strained features and a certain hound peeking around the wood, "You left."
Turning from him, you winced, leaving the door open enough for him to let himself inside, "I get these knots under my scars, it feels like I'm being stabbed, and I just need a minute when it starts."
Eris had heard of it, of the pain residing in the bones and muscles of clipped Illyrian females, sometimes so severe that they believe a new pair are pushing their way through the marred crescent moon scars, and breaking a little when they realised that it wasn't the case.
"It's been happening more recently, I think it might be stress related," you huffed out a laugh. It wouldn't be surprising, you had gone through enough to have permanent knots twisting at your shoulders, "Mor or Azriel usually tend to them," your voice was full of longing as you perched on the edge of the chaise lounge before the roaring fireplace. Willow had hopped up onto the plush piece of furniture, spinning in three circles before settling her head into your lap. Eris made a note to scold her for that later.
The tattoo on your arm shone in the golden embers, swirls of shadow and fire intertwining and dancing around your bicep, "I can help."
"Eris," you winced softly as you turned your head to him, "I couldn't ask you to do that, you've done so much already."
"You're not asking," he moved behind you, his fingers hovering over the sheer fabric of your dress that was transparent enough for him to see the muscle contorting under your skin, "If all I can give you is some relief, then I will."
A moment passed as you thought about it, but you nodded, giving him permission to unlace the strings holding the back of your dress together and pull the straps over your shoulders.
Eris' fingers were warm against your skin, you sucked in a breath at the contact, you felt fire spread across your surface as his gently wound his fingers into your flesh, "I want to try something." When you said nothing, he took it as a sign of agreement, he allowed his fire to flow into his fingertips, the heat of them unwinding the knot in your muscles instantly, withering the demon under your skin into the abyss, "Better?"
"Much," you glanced over your shoulder, "Thank you," your eyes were dazed and you smiled at him, your own fingers running down the space between Willow's eyes and down her long nose.
A question had been poking at him the moment he had seen it, the tattoo that glowed in the light, the one that when you looked at it for a moment too long seemed to dance, "That tattoo. It was a bargain?"
A solemn nod, "Yes," you confirmed, "Between Azriel and I," you gazed into the fire and sighed, but you didn't move away from Eris when he took the seat beside you, "We promised that we would always look after one another, that we would never feel harm at the other's hand."
You smiled sadly, "Azriel and I weren't so different, we were both raised by people who didn't particularly want us, burdened with a power we didn't understand. I think we understood one another in a way no one else could, we knew what we needed and when, we basically knew each other better than we knew ourselves," your voice trailed off, "At least, I thought we did," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you blinked hard to rid your vision of their blurry infliction.
Eris watched you shudder, the loneliness and betrayal worming its way into your soul like you had realised the gravity of it all.
Shuffling closer, Eris' thigh brushed against your own, his fingers millimetres away from yours and he gave into his desire to touch you as his index finger curled around your little one. A simple action to show that he understood, and more a singular moment, you let your guard down, the walls tumbled and you felt his power wash over you, kissing your own and sewing together the brittle remnants of your essence.
The room shifted, the world tilted, and you felt a sensation you had never felt before. Looking down, you found black flames licking up your fingers, they danced up your arms and across your connected digits to curl around Eris.
Neither of you moved, you both simply gazed at it, his fire and your darkness moulding together to create a wonderous crackle of flame that didn't burn either of you. It was softly calling out, and you raised your entwined fingers to inspect it carefully.
It was meant to be terrifying, but the personification of your darkness felt more childlike than anything, it was excited and new, and it nestled itself onto both of your limbs.
"I've never seen anything like this before," Eris held your palm atop of his own, his fingers smoothing over your pulse as his eyes found you, examining your face, namely your eyes where the fire in them burnt brightly.
Eris should have cowered away from you, but he loved your touch more than anything, and no matter how fleeting it may be, he would bathe in it for as long as he possibly could. "Neither have I," you tilted your head, realisation was littered on you, "But I've read about it. It's called Carranam, I think." The look in your enlightened eyes told him of the rarity of such a thing.
"You really are a clever little thing, aren't you?"
A sidelong glance and smirk later, you drawled, "You don't even know the half of it, High Lord."
Author's Note
Here she is!!!
Hope you love this and are going just as feral as me right now 🫶🏻
Taglist
@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar imagine#maasverse#fanfiction#imagine#azriel x reader#rhysand#cassian#azriel x you#eris imagine#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris x y/n#eris x you#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x y/n#feyre x rhysand#rhys acotar#nesta#nesta archeron#lucien acotar#lucien vanserra#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar x y/n
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
10:53:01
Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader
Part 1 of 2
“You’re kidding.”
“Why would I be kidding?” His tone had shifted. You could hear his brows and eyes furrowing at the strangled laugh you had shakily exhaled.
“How did you find out?” He had to be fucking with you.
“Um, the mission briefing...like usual?”
“What?” Shit, so he wasn’t fucking with you. You blinked away tears of frustration already threatening to leak into your voice. Stupid.
“Huh?”
“So, you’re really leaving?”
“Have to, beautiful.”
“But...”
“Yea, I know. I’ll miss you too.” His tone was getting softer with every awkward response you choked out.
“No, I mean...” You let the words trail off. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten the meaning behind this quickly approaching date. Your brain couldn’t even craft a way to bring it up without whining. You couldn’t do it. “Just be safe, okay?”
“The hell do ya think I am? I’m always safe.”
“Safer than your version of safe, please.” Your tone was firm as it delivered the familiar words, a ritual every time he left for a mission.
The memory of the first time you’d made the request came to you easily. He was in the doorway of your office, backing out, bumping his wide shoulders into the frame as he failed to smoothly exit. Red spread across the skin directly below his mask. You had thought you had overstepped, maybe he was upset that you questioned his performance. Your head had tiled to the side in confusion when instead he only said, “Yes, ma’am.” He landed a smack against the head of the blonde hero snickering behind him as he walked off, mumbling something about shutting up.
“Mmm.” You smiled. Maybe he was thinking of that day too.
“‘Mmm’ isn’t a promise.”
“I’ll be back before Saturday. Promise.”
“Back with all the parts you left with.”
“Ya gonna’ love me less if I don’t?” His words were obviously being spoken through a smile now, or a smirk more likely.
“Depends on what you lose.” A part of you melts at the chuckle let loose in your ear.
“Bullshit.”
“Mhmm.” You’re quick to agree but want to hear him laugh again. “If you come back hurt, I’ll just kick your ass for not listening to me.”
‘What if I come back without an ass?” His laugh is cut short as you hear a familiar voice inform him how that would be highly unlikely to count as coming back safe. The tone on the other end gets harsher as he tells the man with him to mind his damn business. You roll your eyes at the familiar sounds of bickering bubbling between the two heroes. You pull Katsuki’s attention back to you as you catch the sound of Deku’s mediating attempts only pacifying Todoroki.
“Don’t you have a flight to catch?”
“Yea.” You quirk an eyebrow at the leftover hostility worming its way into his conversation with you. He hears it too, coughing back to a gentler version before he continues. “I’ll see you Saturday, beautiful.”
“See you Saturday.” Your words fall forward in a mumble towards the screen already reminding you that you’d ended the call. Fuck. Fuck.
“Fuck.”
You rolled your head forward; thankful it was still early enough in the day to start making all the calls you’d need to. You did a few of those dumb square breaths that your therapist swore by. It was annoying that it helped. A feline reminiscent stretch was the only other action you took before opening the most frequently used document saved on your phone. The twinge of regret at the sight of the bright orange header was promptly shoved aside as you began scrolling down to the vendors’ contact info. By the third call, you had quite a script ready to go as soon as someone picked up: Hello, sorry to bother you right before closing. I actually have you guys booked for the event tomorrow night. There’s been a change of plans and I would like you to deliver the (whatever they were in charge of) to (whatever organization could use it) as a donation instead of delivering anything to the venue. After that, it was always a short confirmation of details before you dialed the next number on the list.
The biggest loss was the venue...no, that was wrong. The biggest loss was not being able to get Bakugou’s birthday right AGAIN. You really weren’t sure anymore if the blame was with you or the universe or maybe Bakugou was a villain whose only agenda was to thwart your birthday attempts. Well, you were pretty sure it was you, but it was way past ridiculous at this point. His birthday had been a disaster or disaster adjacent every year since you’d started dating.
There was the first one where you got flustered when he had the audacity to go for the first kiss, getting you flustered enough to drop his gift, a very not waterproof limited edition and vintage All Might card, off the bridge and into the river. The next involved a mistake where you accidentally had Kirishima drop him off at the wrong address...not realizing there were two locations for the restaurant you two had your first date at. The one after, you ended up hospitalized for just a few days, missing his birthday completely because your dumb ass didn’t wake up in time. Although he technically had spent it with you, you just weren’t conscious. You both had work the one after that, so not really your fault on that one. But you did forget his present at the office and so ended up giving it to him the day after, so that part was your fault.
He was always annoyingly understanding about the trouble you ended up causing on the one day every year that you wanted to be the least troublesome. He would just laugh it off, thanking you for an unforgettable day. He’d call you cute or sweet or a menace. He’d say his birthday wasn’t anything to stress about.
His words would be so much easier to accept if he didn’t seem to feel differently when it came to your birthday. He never gave a gift late or damaged or less than perfect. He never messed up the date or time or location. He never forgot any part of his plans or goals for the day. It was always irritatingly more than what you would’ve imagined or expected. Not that birthdays were a contest, but...if they were, you were fucking losing badly.
You slid your phone further across the counter after your last call. This was supposed to be the year you got it right. You’d even enlisted a dangerous amount of help for a surprise party: Kirishima to keep Bakugou from finding out, the head assistant at their agency to get the scheduling information just right, Mina was charged with the guest list, Kaminari and Sero were assigned the entertainment (with final approval from you after a near x-rated disaster). You even had Midoriya help you decide on a present.
Everything was finally going to be perfect. You were so determined. You had even stupidly begun to feel safe in your victory. The party was supposed to be tomorrow. And now, he wouldn’t be back for nine days. Fuck. Fuck.
“Fuck.”
You pawed at your phone again, sending a quick text to Mina so she could notify the guests of the cancellation. You were already exhausted from the last half hour of calls and just wanted to crawl into the bed that was now dumber and colder and emptier than it was supposed to be. Before burrowing, you sent “code yellow” to the One Brain Cell group chat, following the ridiculous list of emergency code phrases made up by Kaminari. You didn’t think you’d end up using them, but here you were.
You then finally set your phone aside for real, pretending to set the urge to sulk along with it. This was part of the job. He was needed and that was a priority...helping people should come first (and it always did). Even if a selfish part of you, that seemed to get louder every time he was called away, wanted nothing more than to convince him to stay. The man you were in love with wouldn’t just give up his purpose or his morals like that. Not even for you. It was admirable. As a hero, you loved and respected that. As his girlfriend, it made you feel more jealous and selfish than you would ever admit.
You would just have to not suck next year.
Inspired by the request sent in by @mentallyablaze-writes
Masterlist
Part 2 coming soon
#Bakugou#Bakugou fluff#Bakugou x reader#pro hero bakugou#Bakugou imagines#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha Bakugou#bakugou katsuki#fluff
207 notes
·
View notes
Note
Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️🔥👯♀️
We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: mentions of smut
Words: 2.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind.
A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.
“White? You sure about that?”
You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”
You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.
Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.
“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”
The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.
“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”
“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”
“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”
“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”
The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.
“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”
Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.
“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”
As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye.
“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”
You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.
“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.
“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.
Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.
“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”
The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.
“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”
Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains.
Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her.
First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.
“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”
With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces.
“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”
“It’s less than a month away.”
“But still.”
“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.
“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”
“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”
You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.
“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”
Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.
“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”
“Teach me your ways.”
Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.
“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”
You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.
Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.
“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says.
You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.
“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.
“Hell yes,” Jess agrees.
“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”
It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.
“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.
“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.
“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”
Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.
“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.
“In a good way?” Jess asks.
“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”
“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.
You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.
“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.
“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.
New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.
“I love you so much,” you say.
“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”
When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.
“Whatcha got?”
“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”
Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.
“Did you have fun?” he asks.
“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”
“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.
“Where are the boys?” you ask.
“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.
“How long ago did they pick them up?”
A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.
“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”
“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.
“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”
Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed.
#eddie munson#Eddie Munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#eddie munson imagine#AYW#AYWS#request
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mild sexual situations, frustrations.
Word Count: 1.7k
Previously On...: Bucky suggests you call in sick to the Wiggle Room.
A/N: Pocket makes a play...
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
You weren’t sure which one of you suggested watching a movie to cap off your evening, but there you were, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as the flickering light of the television danced across your faces in the darkness. If someone had asked you what you were watching, you honestly couldn't have told them. Your eyes kept flickering to Bucky’s profile as he chuckled at whatever was happening on screen.
He was so pretty, you found yourself thinking. How could you have forgotten how pretty he was? You tried to ignore him, you really did, but he was like a magnet, drawing your gaze to him against your will. You felt a familiar warmth begin to pool between your legs just from the sight of him. You wanted him. God, you wanted him so much. You’d spent the last two months trying to forget him, but now, he was right here, just feet away.
Licking your lips, you made an executive decision, knowing full well it was probably not your best one (but still better than the drugs, you rationalized to yourself), and began crawling over to him. He turned to look at you, an unspoken question across his face.
“Hi,” you breathed, so close to him now you could almost taste the memory of his skin on your tongue.
“Hello,” he smiled as he turned to face you better. “What’s up, Pocket?”
“I miss you.” You leaned in and took his earlobe between your teeth, suckling it gently into your mouth. You were rewarded when his entire body shivered and he sucked in a shaky breath. He didn’t move to push you away, so you slowly crawled your body into his lap, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and the corner of his mouth.
Everything about this felt so absolutely right as you ground your hips against him, the familiar, thick length of him pressing against your core as if it had been molded to fit there. Bucky groaned as your lips reached for him, but it was as if the sound he elicited had woken him from a trance. He gripped your hips, gently but firmly, and put space between your bodies.
“This is a bad idea,” he said, eyes closed as if even looking at you would destroy his resolve.
His words may as well have been bullets, the way they dug into your stomach. He was rejecting you? After everything? “You don’t want me?” your voice came out small, a weak plea that would have shamed you at any other time, but in this moment, encapsulated the insecurity you felt in his denial.
Bucky pressed his forehead to yours, eyes still closed. “I always want you, sweets. It’s never a question of that. Never.”
“Then what is it?” you asked, growing more desperate. You brought your hands up to cup his face, urging him to open his eyes, to look at you, connect with you in the way you two used to do so well.
“You just lost a baby,” he breathed. “Didn’t you read any of your discharge paperwork? You’ve gotta wait until the doctor gives you the clear before you can have sex again.”
You rolled your eyes. If that was all he was worried about… “I don’t need your dick in me for you to make me feel good, Buck,” you whined. “Just like you know I can make you cum without ever using my cunt.” As if to prove your point, you snaked a hand down his body and began to palm him through the material of his jeans.
His hand shot down and grabbed you by the wrist, holding it still and keeping you from working him. “Stop,” he pleaded, sounding like he was the one who risked being in pain from fucking, instead of you.
“You’d rather I use my dirty mouth?” you asked with a smirk, beginning to maneuver yourself to your knees, but Bucky had grabbed your other wrist before you could get very far, locking you into place, and keeping you from touching him.
“No,” he panted, obviously worked up.
“Then, what?” you asked, growing frustrated.
“I… I can’t be intimate with you right now,” he confessed, as though it pained him to do so. “Even if you were healed up enough for me to fuck you properly, I… wouldn’t do it.”
You shifted your weight back putting more distance between your bodies. The confusion you originally felt as his confession quickly morphed into the shameful anger of embarrassment as you registered his use of the word ‘wouldn’t.’ Not an inability, but a choice.
“It’s just sex, Barnes,” you spat, not being able to keep the hurt from your voice. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“That’s just it, Pocket,” he said, searching your eyes with his own. “I’m not going to have meaningless sex with you.”
You pulled yourself off his lap, yanking your wrists from his hands. Your shame was burning across your face, and you were grateful for the cover of night to hide the rising color of your cheeks. “So, you’re fine having meaningless sex with her,” you snapped, unable to say Jade’s name even after all the time that had passed, “but not with me? God, forget I asked; I see your priorities haven’t fucking changed.” You moved to storm out of the living room, to hide in your bed behind closed doors, but Bucky sprung up from the couch and, in an instant, was standing in front of you, blocking your exit with his immovable frame.
“Hey!” Bucky barked, the force of the one word startling you. “Don’t do that! Don’t run from me, not again!” He ran both hands desperately through his hair. “I’m not going to have meaningless sex with you, because if I do, it won’t be meaningless! Not to me.” The last three words were softer, more vulnerable, a confession he was afraid you would take as a weakness.
“I told you I was greedy, sweetheart,” he said to you, pulling you close to him as he began to nuzzle your neck. The feel of him, so close to you, yet so far away, was making your knees weak, and you clung to him for support. “But I’m not going to have you if I can’t have all of you, not anymore, not when I know what it’s like to be loved by you. I can’t do that to myself. And I’m not going to do that to you.”
“Bucky,” you moaned as his hands roamed the surface of your body, seeking any ounce of uncovered flesh he could get his hands on. His touch was soft, light enough to never be satisfying, always leaving you craving more.
“I love you, doll,” he said, kissing your skin, “and if you can tell me you forgive me, that you still love me, wanna be with me again,” he sucked and nibbled on your neck, the sensation of his mouth on your pulsepoint almost sending you over the edge on its own, “then I’ll give you anything you fucking want. But if you can’t, if you’re not ready yet, or you don’t think you’ll ever be,” he let go, pulling away from you and leaving you longing for him, “then I’m not going to torture myself with something I can’t have, or put you in a position where you end up regretting what we did.”
He watched you, expectantly, waiting for you to say something, to give him an answer that would either bring you back to each other once and for all, or close and lock the door between you both for good, but you had nothing for him.
“I don’t know,” you whispered.
Bucky’s face shuttered, the passion so recently evident in his eyes vanishing into their depths. He nodded once. “Let me know when you make up your mind, doll,” he said, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head before retreating to the solitude of his room, the sound of the door shutting behind you echoing through the apartment with its finality.
You managed to hold your tears until you were back in your room, sobbing into your pillow in the weak hope his super soldier hearing wouldn’t be able to pick up on the sound through the apartment’s thin walls. You let yourself weep, wondering how many more times Bucky Barnes was going to be the reason for your tears.
But you couldn’t blame him this time, your stupid logical reasoning told you. This one was on you. He’d been honest with what he wanted, what he needed, but you hadn’t been willing, or able, to give him what he’d asked for in return. He hadn’t been willing to take from you unless he knew for certain you were sure.
The dinging of your phone caught your attention, and your heart leapt with joy when you saw a notification indicating new texts from Nat. Technically, you weren’t supposed to have contact with residents of the Tower while you were undercover, but you were willing to put that aside in the surge of happiness that rushed through you at the thought of talking to your friend.
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: So
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Don’t freak
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: But I have news
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: About Carthage
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: When she saw Barnes left
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: To go to you in AC
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: She fucking *flipped*
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Screaming and crying
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: That her life was over
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: And she was gonna die
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Destroyed her room
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Punched Steve in the face
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Which was funny
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: But not the point
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Hello?
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Do you ever look at your phone?
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Are you fucking Barnes rn?
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: This is serious tea
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: And you’re leaving me on ‘delivered’
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: It’s offensive
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Anyway
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: She’s gone
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Packed her shit
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: No clue where she went
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Vanished into the night
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: She’s gone AWOL
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Thought you’d want to know
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: And one more thing
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: It’s big
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Fucking huge
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: But your not answering
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: I’m not telling
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: So
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Suck it xoxo
Natsassin🖤🩰🔪: Call me
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP excerpt for yesdangerpls; the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )
“A version of you was conquering alternate realities,” Bruce says, still neutral.
“Uh,” Kon says, looking embarrassed. “Kinda, yeah? Kinda definitely, actually. I mean–dude had some issues. His home reality wasn’t really all that clone-friendly, and shit kinda went to shit there, and then he just decided ‘actually killing inconvenient people is ethically okay if I just make clones out of their dead bodies and give those clones their memories after’, so, uh . . . issues, like I said. Serious ones.”
“And you don’t think that’s ethical?” Bruce says, which is an obvious test. Kon glowers at him as Clark resists the urge to sigh at Bruce. The man’s as paranoid as ever, no surprise. It’s . . . understandable, admittedly, but not exactly fair in this situation.
“Clones are their own people,” Kon says, setting his jaw stubbornly. “No matter whose memories you stick in our heads.”
“That’s a school of thought,” Bruce says neutrally. Kon scowls, then pointedly lifts his lassoed wrist.
“You’re an asshole,” he says emphatically. Clark has to muffle a snort of laughter behind his hand; Diana does the same. Bruce looks sour. Clark knows he doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough, but he just can’t look at this kid and see a threat.
Of course, that’s part of why Bruce doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough.
“And you’re asking for a lot of trust, for someone who’s reportedly an interdimensional conqueror in at least one reality,” Bruce says. “Why should we believe this version of you is any different from Black Zero?”
“For the record, it was a version of me that stopped him, too,” Kon says, still scowling at him. “Like, a whole bunch of versions of me. And we didn’t all survive the experience. So I dunno, democratically speaking I think I’m mostly not a shithead.”
“And you don’t know how to return to your home reality?” Diana asks. Kon grimaces, then shakes his head.
“No idea,” he says. “I only got out into Hypertime to begin with because another Superboy showed up in our Watchtower with a hyperjacket keyed to his DNA and, uh . . . crash-landed and died right in the middle of a JLA meeting, actually. He was–injured, when he made the jump. Didn’t survive it. He was with the resistance. Was trying to warn our reality that Black Zero was coming, but . . .”
Clark feels immediately nauseous at that thought; wonders how traumatic and horrible it was for his alternate version to watch that happen and not be able to save that version of Kon. Wonders if that Kon’s version of him even knows what happened to him. If . . .
He tries not to think about it. It’s not something he can do anything about.
It’s definitely motivating him to get this Kon home all the quicker, though. His other self must be losing his mind right now.
“Satisfied?” he asks Bruce, raising an eyebrow at him again. He’d be amused, a little, if he weren’t still thinking about what had happened to that other version of Kon: about a kid that young dying far from home trying to do the right thing, surrounded by a roomful of heroes who couldn’t save him.
“No,” Bruce says.
“Batman, there are multiple realities in which all of us are supervillains,” Diana says wryly, unlooping her lasso from Kon’s wrist and winding it up again. “We can hardly blame Kon-El for the crimes of a single version of himself.”
Bruce has a look on his face that makes it very clear that he does, in fact, think they can do that. Bruce also thinks that about them, though, himself included, so Clark isn’t going to give that concern particularly heavy weight right now.
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey Everyone,
I don’t tend to write these kinds of posts on my tumblr page, however I feel this is necessary.
In the event you are not aware, Dumb and Jocked, the main person I do collabs with, and also who is someone who most people might consider to be one of the backbones of the Tumblr TF community, has deactivated his account and left us last week.
Most of the people and I do not know exactly why or how this happened, but it's the reality of the situation unless he somehow does return in the future.
Some tumblrs might still have some of his stories reblogged, including mine, however some of which cannot be accessed as they are stuck at the ‘read more’ page. Notably his longer stories ‘Branded’ and both parts of the major collaboration we did together in ‘Narrow residences’.
If anyone has any of these stories saved somewhere, it would be great if you could either link it to me or post it on Tumblr.
Below will be my farewell to him, in the event he ever does somehow read it. This probably is not the best farewell letter, but it's the best I could do in such short notice and also posting it publicly. —————————————————————
Hey Dumb and Jocked,
Thanks for reading this, and I'm sad to see you go.
We’ve worked on various collabs together and it was fun throughout the years discussing various ideas here and there with you.
Unfortunately, after you left, it just feels really upsetting looking at the stuff you wrote. Even those that were saved from reblogs and reposts from other blogs. While I do want to keep them for memories and also because I did collaborate on some of them, it just feels much sadder trying to indulge in your stories or continue in sequels of it.
I was shocked that you would leave us out of the blue, however a part of me anticipated this.
I'm mostly speculating, but this is a hobby that can be rather controversial and you contributed a massive ton, likely without any compensation. You were quite private in general and talked about stories and bounced off my ideas now and then.
You sort of have a clean gateway if you decide to ever leave for good, as you probably are not really close to anyone here other than writing TF stories.
Some of us hoped that you might return, and speculated maybe it's tumblr accidentally banning you and you would get your account back, but as the days went by, it only reaffirmed that my anticipation was likely correct.
I myself mostly continued on tumblr for you, and I'm not sure if I would continue now that the main reason and person I stuck around for has left without letting any of us know. It is something I will have to decide for myself in the future.
If you ever do return to Tumblr or decide to message me privately to talk about things, that would be great. I do hope you return, even if you don’t write stories that frequently or even at all, so we could talk for a bit.
However I know that I won’t wait forever.
That’s all I will write in this letter. It was fun writing and discussing TF stories with you while it lasted.
-Sjw Publishings
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
━━ ON THE CLOCK
author's note: to those who have submitted requests a reminder that since i always keep my requests open there are a lot of them already so im working towards completing all of them but be please be patient with me, and also i sincerely appreciate all the i've support gotten so far!!
'୧ ‧₊ pairing: mike schmidt x reader
warnings: 18+ sexual content! masturbation (m!receiving), mentions of riding, phone sex, dirty talk, swearing
word count: 2000+ ⋆ ✩‧₊
The air in the monitor room is stale and sticky against Mike’s goosepricked skin. He’s more or less nearing the brink of insanity in the incessant silence that’s only punctuated by the occasional squeak of the chair beneath him, and his own heavy, helpless breathing. He’s hyper aware of the ache of his growing bulge as it strains against the constraints of dark, faded denim, and it’s becoming more and more difficult to ignore his longing as he tries (and fails) to keep his eyes trained on the grainy images of the monitors before him.
Six hours seemed more resemblant to six years as he sat and watched and waited —waited for this shitty shift to end so he could get home, get home to you. You and your airy giggles and knowing eyebrow raises, that evil twinkle that lives in your irises, the one you flash him before he’d whisk you away to the privacy of his modest bedroom, diving into your body, the territory he’s claimed as his.
Fuck. He can have you once this is all over, he tells himself. He wasn’t going to bother you when you were sleeping, not when he’d already swarmed you with the responsibility of unpaid babysitting for Abby.
Even though his jeans were sodden with a saturated patch of precum that was blooming right at the tip of his tent.
His mind wanders before he can rope it back in; he’s thrust back into the memories of previous intimacy. Of his shaking figure, swallowed by the mattress, outlined in a tide of his own sweat, your gentle palm easing along his length, the stark contrast from his own calloused fist so erotic in itself. You were always there. Every buck into your hand, you accepted. Everything he needed, you gave. You always gave.
He feels like an animal; his insatiable lust makes him sick in his own skin, but what can he do? You’re everything and more, and the heat festering in his stomach is making it hard to breathe. His desire is too strong over him – he’s weak. He runs his tongue along his teeth, searching for you and the flavor he craves but his search is futile.
A few more tangled minutes saunter by, and eventually he feels he has no choice but to give in to a fraction of his lust. His skin is melded further with a dry haze of heat and he curses himself as he reaches into his boxers.
Stroke, stroke, stroke.
He starts slow, his fingers grazing his cock and triggering a taunting voice that begs for more more more. You stay imprinted onto the forefront of his mind; every curve and crevice, the way you conduct the heat of his groping hands better than any precious metal. He can picture the slope of your jaw so effortlessly, the way your neck bleeds into your shoulders, every divot, every movement forever memorized.
He needs more, it isn’t enough, the friction feels like an unscratchable itch. He’s chafing and aching like a raw wound, his pace quickens, his voice raises pitch, but nothing happens. Without you, he's helpless.
Mike’s brows furrow, nose twitches with utter concentration, features strewn wildly across his face as he chases his fantasy, fist speeding. In his mind, your body glides atop his, slick and succulent; the air is so heavy, a smothering caress to your slippery skin as your hips rock and ride with practiced ease. A whimper falls from his lips. Another, and another, ringing dull across the frozen air.
But it won’t ever be enough.
He needs a part of you, a slice, a vestige, something. He can’t come now, not on his own, not without some help. His wrist falls limp, his chest rises and falls sporadically as he takes his breath back in, stopping his movements. His eyes wander across the decrepit room until they reach the phone, mounted against the wall and waiting for him. Beckoning him. Call you. Get some help. He knows he needs it.
Shit.
—
Your body feels lifeless as it deflates into the welcome embrace of the worn sofa. Swaddled in a patchwork blanket, hands nursing a cup of lukewarm tea, your vision remains weary as it wanders through the curios of the Schmidt family home. The dim light that seeped from the lamp on your right was enough to coax you further into a state of fatigue, and you might have fully fallen off the brink of consciousness had it not been for the shrill cry of the phone that rang from the kitchen.
You stumble upwards to a shaky standing, inching across the carpeted floor and picking up the receiver with a lethargy wave of your wrist.
“Hello?”
Your voice is broken glass as it comes out, shredded and tired and when Mike hears how groggy you sound he nearly hangs up without even greeting you.
“Uh… hey.”
You can hear the speed of his uneven exhales, what’s he been doing? Is he alright? Why is he even calling you?
“Mike, what the hell? Why are you calling on the job? Has something happened?”
A moment's pause blossoms between the line, as another shaky breath tears itself from his mouth.
“Nothing’s uh… nothing’s happened.”
You cock a brow, and he can hear the confusion knitted into your tone.
“What’s going on then? Why do you sound like you just ran around the block?”
Again, he doesn’t reply. And then reality takes a knock at your head.
“Oh.”
He’s silent, every inch of him consumed by raging shame. Jesus, why’d he call you? Why’d he have to embarrass himself like this? He’s pathetic, he’s so pathetic, he called you? You’re gonna realize how needy he is, you’re gonna hate him, you’re gonna leave him—
“You know I can’t come over, Mikey.”
Your saccharine voice is enough reassurance that this wasn’t as stupid as he thought; at least you haven’t screamed or been sick with disgust at the revelation that he really, truly, needs you.
“I know. I know, I… I just thought that…” He swallows his pride. “I just wanted to hear your voice. Look, I can hang up–”
“Don’t.”
He silences himself, and shifts uncomfortably in the cheap spinny chair that he’s resting in.
“Don’t?” He probes nervously.
“Nope.”
He’s aching, leaking, every single surface of him is basked in sweat and screaming out for you.
“I’ll help you, yeah? That’s what you want? Need me to talk you through it?”
A shiver chews at his spine, his figure convulses and his knuckles whiten around the phone.
“Don’t get shy now Mike.”
He just about crumples at your tone; so sultry and yet sugar-sweet. You’re sanguine; he’d devour you if he could, drunk on the feeling you give him. He’s never known love like this and he never wants to let it go.
“Yes. Yes, please, god, please.”
Mike can taste your grin through the phone.
“Knew it. Is your dick out already? Is it Mike?”
His insides burn. “Y/n–”
“Tell me Mike. C’mon.”
He glances down at himself, at his cock that rests stiff and swollen in his hand, wet webs of pre-cum etched across the skin of his rough palms. “Yeah,” he confesses softly, weakly.
“So you’re all ready f’me, huh?”
He nods despite your inability to see it, eyes trained on the way he pulses, the way he dreams to disappear between your glistening folds.
“Mike.”
“Shit. Sorry. Uh– yeah. Yeah. I’m.. I’m ready,” his voice descends an octave.
You settle down into the chair beside you, getting comfortable, a smirk creeping into the corner of your lips. “Then go on. Touch yourself. Nice and slow, just for me.”
He chokes at this, spluttering as his fingers ghost along the sensitive flesh, thumb caressing his tip as his fist begins to stroke his length. He lets out a satisfied hum, falling into the gentle rhythm that you allow him. Nothing faster. He wants you to make him cum. He wants to be good for you.
“Yeah? Feels good?”
He’s still a little tense– he’s never done anything this dirty before. Technically speaking, he’d never done anything dirty until he’d met you. He was bound to Abby early on, and lost any idea of a relationship, prioritizing her in every instance, but then you came along, took his heart and his virginity and everything in between, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Should be you,” the words tumble from his lips, accompanied by an audible slop as he gathers more of his slick with his fist.
“I know, baby.” His chest caves at the pet name. “I know. But it can’t be right now.”
He grumbles something that is lost under the muffle of background noise and the distance between you two, but the phone does capture a soft whine that crawls from deep in his throat. He bucks up, seeking more; more friction, more of the nectar that drools from your voice. To taint your neck with reds and purple, for you to do the same to him. He needs to writhe beneath you, for you to drink his stress up with kisses. His hand gains speed and another fractured whimper escapes his lips, adorned with the broken syllables of your name.
“That’s it. Just like that. Go faster for me, a little faster.”
He’s nodding again, a subconscious action as his hips begin to chase his fist. He doesn’t have the capacity in his head to reply to your sugared little coaxes with words, but he whines and grunts and loses himself. Loses every shred of apathy, loses the stress and the indifferent facade that he veils upon himself.
If he was sweating badly before, his current state is beyond that. He’s soaked, his entire face glimmering under the flickering lights, and all he feels is an inescapable hunger blooming in his stomach, and oh god he’s already so embarrassingly close.
“You getting close for me Mike?”
He manages to jumble out a quiet, “So close,” under the current of his breathless whimpers, the stark contrast to his typical low grumble almost comical.
“Yeah you are. Just for me, right? Gonna give it to me, I know you are.”
He just about sobs; tears prick the corners of his warm eyes and he gives up any and all control, fist pumping at an ineffable speed as needy cries spew from him like a faucet. He’s finally getting what he needs. “Just for you, god, god, honey please– please, honey, sweetheart, oh–”
“Gonna make a mess, a big mess, all over your hand? You always do. Always giving me everything, so good for me.”
He’s indescribably close, nearing the brink of ecstasy, whining and moaning and thrusting into his hand and convincing himself that it’s yours– you and your soft palms, floral lotion delving into every crevice. He moans, once, twice, dangerously near…
“And you know I’ll always be here, ready at home for the real thing.”
He cries out your name so loud the impact alone should shatter glass as he erupts with thick white ribbons, tears rolling free along the flesh of his reddened cheeks, whimpering shamelessly. His brows knit so tightly his skin scrunches, his eyes squeezed shut as his sentences string out in incoherent bursts and all he feels is the overwhelming relief as his entire figure shudders in shock.
His hand, the table, his faded navy hoodie, tainted with ivory spills that seem to never cease. He comes and comes and comes, heavy and hard, enough to fill buckets. His chest heaves and he wants to freeze this moment and keep it tucked in the waistband of his jeans, buried in the creases of his mind. Your name occasionally falls from the knot of tangled words he can’t seem to choke out, and though it seems eternal, he does float down from his bliss eventually.
You listen to his breathing for a while, hearing his jagged gasps morph back to even sounding pants, and you can sense the moment it all hitches and the shyness, the awkward man who asked for your number in the coffee shop, claims him once again. He doesn’t speak first.
“You okay Mike? Did I lose you?” You tease gently.
He groans out. “Stop.”
“That’s not what you were saying before,” you grin.
He grunts irritably. “I hate you.”
“Oh really?”
There’s a soft silence that creases as his voice, gravelly and hoarse, comes back.
“No.”
You smile. “I love you Mike.”
There’s no pause this time.
“I love you too.”
masterlist
✩‧₊
#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson smut#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt#fnaf movie#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader#five nights at freddy's#michael schmidt
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
a startling realization pt1
See my full list of works here!
Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you
Pairing: Oakley x Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader
There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.
But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.
The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.
And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.
But why?
"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.
"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.
If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.
"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"
As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.
That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.
"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."
"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."
All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.
This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.
"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."
"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.
But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.
Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.
You.
"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.
His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.
"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."
"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.
You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?
Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?
"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."
"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."
"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."
"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."
The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.
In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.
This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.
"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.
"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."
Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.
And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."
"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."
"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."
The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.
It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"
You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."
He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."
Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.
The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.
On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.
He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.
"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?
Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.
"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"
"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"
His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."
"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"
You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.
After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."
Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.
"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"
"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."
He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.
"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."
"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.
Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.
And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.
With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.
"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"
"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."
You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.
"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."
"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.
Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.
Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.
"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"
He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."
You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."
"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."
His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.
"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."
I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?
"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.
Your scent.
Home
A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈
'everything' taglist:
@simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
wow, this episode was wild from start to finish — the makgeolli scene was ludicrous, sol's elder brother is annoying, and HOW DARE they end it on such a cliffhanger!!!
that said, i LOVED the parallels of sol switching the fan on for sunjae while he was sleeping just like he did for her in previous episodes (it was such a lovely, subtle bit of cuteness) — him unconsciously covering her hand with his own was an added bonus.
that boy is aware of her EVEN IN HIS SLEEP.
i think it's a testament to byeon woo-seok's acting that he's able to communicate the tenderness of his feelings for sol so well with just his eyes — i keep mentioning this, but there's a literal reverence in his gaze when he looks at sol that's simply uncanny. his whole face just softens when he looks at her!!!
kim hye-yoon matches this well with the way her face lights up when she's watching sun-jae — her smile is pure RADIANCE when she's looking at him.
there's such genuine respect and adoration in her expression that it just warms my heart.
sunjae confessing his feelings all in a rush was such a bittersweet experience for me — first love is often so sweet but also overpowering and bewildering — you can see from the beginning of the story how helpless sunjae is in the wake of his emotions for sol.
he put her into music and made her memory eternal!
having said that, i was NOT a fan of the way sol rejected sunjae at the hospital. i understand her reasons (since she's uncertain over her fate after the day of her accident / her having to return to the future) but she didn't have to be that harsh.
the poor boy even said "don't be so cold" 🥺
and the fact that she realized she was his first love and the song was about her — only to get kidnapped right after: EVIL move on the writers' part.
i think she'll manage to get out of this without getting paralyzed again (maybe with sunjae's help) — that's why the promo showed her walking in the future.
i know a little about the webtoon, so i'm pretty sure sunjae DOES remember her, he's just behaving coldly because she rejected him / or because after the accident past!sol returned and didn't remember him and he distanced himself ever since then.
either of those reasons would also explain his refusing not to do the movie that sol's presumably directing.
as far as sol trying to stop him from coming to the bridge — she probably realized something to do with his death. it might be related to her (and the taxi-driver) so she's trying to stop sunjae from meeting her and putting everything into motion again.
i think the first time she went into the past, it was to remember sunjae, the second was to prevent her accident, and the third will be her finally stopping sunjae's death.
hate to say it, but i think sol will have to go through sunjae dying again before she goes back into the past for the third and final time (probably when they're in university) and saves him at last.
she better save him and make sure they have a happy ending, otherwise this viewer is going to become a LOVELY HATER. XD
NOW HOW WILL I SURVIVE UNTIL NEXT MONDAY??? 😭
#lovely runner#tvn lovely runner#byeon woo seok#kim hye yoon#tvn drama#tvn#kdrama#kdrama lover#rom com kdrama#fantasy kdrama
52 notes
·
View notes
Note
AWWW I just read your Val & Vox with a little girl and its so so cute!! Can I maybe request a one shot of Vox as a girl's dad too? Like his daughter in life getting to hell in her late teens, and now Vox has to deal with the change in taking care of her because he only knew how to take care of her as a child before he died. Thank youu 💖💙
This request. Could have gone in SO MANY FUN WAYS! Let me know your feedback and thoughts! Enjoy- I can do a part two if you like it!!
I downed my tenth cup of coffee and adjusted myself in my chair. My head pounded and I hoped that just a few more drops of the life-giving liquid would keep the exhaustion at bay long enough to get this project done. I hit the call button on the intercom in my office.
“Charles! Another cup!”
Ten seconds. Enough of a break. I turned my attention back to the document on my computer.
My assistant brought in another cup right away. “Ms. Reader, don’t you think you’re getting carried away?”
“I said coffee. Not lip. Order me a raspberry mocha from the shop down the street and have it here in exactly twenty minutes.” I responded as I continued to type.
He bowed his head. “As you wish. Mr. Vox asked for an update. What should I tell him?”
I paused for a half a moment. “Tell my Dad it will be ready well before the deadline.”
I looked back down and continued to type. It had been a month since I first found myself in hell. It took my father no time to locate me- though his reaction wasn’t what I expected.
“Babygirl, you grew up.” He said as I sat across from him in his perfectly manicured office. A pained expression crossed his face. “Tell me, what did you do in your human life to land you in my office? And so young too…how old are you now? Eighteen?”
Sixteen. I thought to myself. An idea began to form. He didn’t remember my age- that could work to my advantage. After all, acting older than I was was a skill I acquired, and I was more than used to my own independence. I crossed my arms. “Eighteen. I’ve been running your company since I was thirteen.” That much, at least, was true. “What do you think got me here? Your business skills weren’t the only thing I inherited.”
He sighed. “The same thing that brought me here. Fine.”
He reached out to touch my face and I jerked away. He was a stranger to me, gone from my life when I was six. My mother tried to keep his company on Earth going, but she didn’t have the business skills I did. And when she passed the company fell to my hands with contingencies. Overnight I became the voice- the face of the company, running between me and the board.
When I passed she was the first person I looked for. Not that I thought I’d find her- and I was right. She went up, and we went down. My dad and his company found me shortly after, and I wasn’t in the slightest surprised to find he was as much of a go getter down here as he was when he was alive, the sole owner of VoxTech.
But as I sat in his office across from him, memories of him in life blossomed. Soft words. Snuggles. Hugs and kisses. All the comfort that was ripped away the day he left us, left me.
“You’re going to need a place,” he continued. “A place to stay. A job. I can give you all those things. Keep you safe.”
My other option was the streets of hell. An unappealing choice at best. And so, I accepted the role he offered and the responsibilities that came with it. I was determined to show my father that I was a hardworking girlboss, worthy of his faith in me.
“And send,” I said aloud as I finished the final drop of my mocha. My head felt fuzzy and my chest definitely buzzed but it was worth it. I opened my inbox. The time on the clock read ten- I had finished with several days to spare. Might as well keep going.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew I startled awake to the feeling of a hand on my wrist.
“Hey, hey baby girl. Take a deep breath, it’s just me.” My dad said.
I shifted and realized he had covered me with his jacket. I tried to sit up and realized I wasn’t in my office anymore. Instead, I laid on the couch in his.
Fuck. The project. Did I submit it?
“Wh-what time is it? I’m late, I still need…” I sat up.
Vox pushed me back down. “No. You need to lay down. You’re exhausted and your pulse is really high. The doctor is on his way up to look at you. When was the last time you went home to bed?”
Three days ago. But I didn’t want to tell him that, so instead I remained silent. Vox let out a soft chuckle.
“You haven’t changed all that much, have you?” He asked as he smoothed back my hair. “You used to do this when you were little too. Play so hard you fell asleep where you were. I used to pick you up and put you to bed, and you were so exhausted you didn’t wake up.”
“Is that how I got here?” I asked.Throbbing pain pulsed through my skull and
I closed my eyes as I pressed my head into my hands. “Ugh, my head hurts.”
“Yeah. Your assistant found you passed out on your desk around midnight. He called me right away.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and hit a button. “When was the last time you drank water? Or ate anything?” Concern oozed from his voice. “I found like twenty empty coffee cups in your office.”
“I had coffee. I’m good. Lived on it back home. Live on it here.” I winced as the cuff grew tighter on my arm. “I’m fine, Dad.”
“You’re not. And I want numbers while we wait for the doctor to get here. What were you thinking?” He placed the back of his hand on my head. “Com’on you’re smarter than that.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m not a child, Dad.”
“Maybe not anymore, but you’ll always be my baby,” he replied calmly. “So will you relax and let me be your dad for a moment?”
I relented and let him fuss until the doctor came in. Vox stood with his arms crossed until I got the all clear.
“Just cut down on the caffeine, plenary of fluids, and get a few days of rest, and you’ll be fine in no time,” the doctor said finally. He scribbled a few things on his notepad. “Quick question. How old are you, exactly? Because your father says eighteen, but my records show sixteen.”
I saw Vox turn to look at me, a mix of fury and annoyance on his face. Shit. He grabbed the clipboard from the doctor and scanned the sheet. Realization flooded his face.
“Rest and fluids, that I can do,” I said loudly as I pulled myself up to standing. “Dad, you don’t mind if I cut out a few minutes early, do you?”
Vox swallowed and looked at me. “You told me you were twenty.”
“Actually, I said eighteen.” I replied, “not that it matters.”
“Oh, it does matter.” He said, his voice laced with anger. “You lied to me.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been on my own running your company for three years. But anyway, I’m going home, Dad. See you tomorrow.” I went to walk out the door and he caught my wrist.
“Oh fuck no. You think I’m going to let my teenage daughter waltz out of here after all this? No. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion. And consider yourself suspended from work for the time being.
I felt myself freeze. “You can’t fire me, this is my job!”
He laughed darkly. “Oh honey! You work for me. Consider it your punishment for lying to your Boss.” He stood up. “Let’s go. You’re not staying in that apartment by yourself. You’re sixteen.” He shook his head. “You’re sixteen.”
“Then where am I staying?” I asked, crossing my arms as unease flooded through me.
“Home. With me. Where you belong.” He said firmly as he pressed his hand to my shoulder.
I felt myself deflate but again, seeing no other option, I let him guide me to the elevator. Three floors later, the elevator opened and I followed him into a spacious living room.
“I’ll have your things taken from your apartment and moved into the fourth bedroom,” he said as he gave me the tour.
“I’ve been on my own for a month in hell, and even longer before then,” I protested. “I know how to live by myself.”
He stopped walking and turned his head. “Then I guess it’s about time you learned how to be a teenager then, hm?”
Anger flooded through me. “That isn’t fair! Dad!”
Vox gave me a grin. “There. That’s a great start! But seriously, you’re grounded.”
“You can’t ground me!”
He practically puffed himself up. “You’re sixteen and I’m your dad. Of course I can. And you are.” He pushed open the door “and this is your room. You can redecorate as you please.”
I stepped inside. “Wait, this is my room?”
Easily twice the size of my little apartment, the bed alone took up the center of the room. It’s current color scheme was neutral, with huge windows overlooking the city.
“Yeah, like I said, order whatever you want and I’ll have Velvette…”
“Aunt Velvette?!” I asked, excitement washing over me.
“You remember her?” He asked in a surprised voice. “Do you remember Valentino too?” He leaned against the doorframe and waited for my reaction.
I turned around. “Uncle Val? The badass mafia mobster that used to come over and toss me in the pool when you guys got tired of doing it?”
“Hey, who told you he was a mobster?” Vox asked as I continued to look around the room.
“Mom.”
He sighed. “Of course she did. Well, she wasn’t wrong. But yes. One and the same. We met up in hell and we-“
“Continue to rule together as much as you did in life. Got it,” I replied. “Did you not tell them I was here? In the building this whole time?”
Vox shrugged. “I was hoping to get to know you a bit more before I let them know you were here. But I wanted to give you some time to settle in first. After all, I thought you were an adult. Time…time passes differently down here.”
“Reader? Is that really you?” I heard an excited voice yell from the hallway.
My head turned. I knew that voice. Velvette pushed past Vox and she and Valentino practically ran over to me.
“Aww, my little Princessa! All grown up I see!” My Uncle Val lifted me up and spun me around like I was five. He kissed me on the forehead and set me down.
Shock flooded through my body as I looked at them both in their demon forms. Seeing my Dad with a TV shaped head was one thing- it made sense with what he did. Aunt Velvette still looked the same but Uncle Val? He looked…scarily different. Purple skin, sharp teeth. The only thing that stayed the same was his signature heart shaped glasses.
“Valentino, chill. You spooked her.” Velvette scolded. “It’s been what, how many years?”
“Wait- where is Uncle Al?” I asked
My father glitched. “We don’t talk about him. Not after what he did to me.”
“What did he do?” I asked in confusion.
“Ah, no. Princessa. Baby. You’ll get your daddy all worked up. We don’t want or need that,” Valentino scolded.
I crossed my arms and took a defensive stance. “I’m not five. And I’ve been an adult for a long, long time.”
“Yeah, why don’t you tell us all about that? Over dinner.” Vox said, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “After all, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
#valentino x reader#the vees#valentino x you#hazbin fluff#hazbin hotel#vox x reader#the vees x reader#valentino hazbin hotel#valentino#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox#voxval#vees#vox the tv demon#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin velvette
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
05 - Woke Up Still Dreaming
Summary : Part 5 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome
previous part /// jump to pt. 1
TW : smut, choking, double penetration, spitting, spanking, subspace
Word Count : 7k
A/N : this chapter takes place hours after THIS EXTRA - it’s not absolutely necessary to read although it may answer a few questions as to how their relationship seemed to jump so quickly !
GIFs : unknown - msg for credit
louis isn’t sure the exact thing that woke him up. whether it be the soft pecks of your lips against his, or the quiet, melodic calling of his name, or your nails gently scratching at his scalp. what ever it was, he couldn’t complain in the slightest.
that is, until he cracks his eyes open, the soft golden glow of early morning streaming through niall’s sheer white curtains. it was much too early. too fucking early for people that didn’t get to sleep until sometime past 4am. “time s’it, love,” louis croaks, his eyes fluttering shut again.
a small giggle leaves your lips, a happy, playful, sweetness to it, one that’s reserved for those early hours, one that louis is tucking away as a core memory because it was just so damn cute. “just about 7am,” you whisper, pecking over his bottom lip again.
“christ, darling, ya couldn’t wait a bit ?” he groans quietly, his hands scrubbing at his eyes, almost painfully, pulling himself from sleep.
“i really hope you like morning sex,” you murmur, nibbling against his lip now, pulling his mouth open just enough for your tongue to slip through, and lick against his own, pulling a quiet breathy moan from him.
“you have full permission to smack me if i ever turn down an offer from you,” he hums, as you throw your thigh over his waist, his hands falling on your hips, fingers digging into your skin.
“you’re sappy in the morning,” you giggle, breathing against his lips, before dipping back in for more kisses.
he breathes a laugh against your lips, letting himself get lost in the kiss, his hands exploring your body, finding that you’d stripped down your pants at some point, currently only wearing panties and a thin tank top.
one hand rounds down your hip, over your bum, and up your thigh to your knee, holding your leg in place over his hips, his other hand settled right on your ass, squeezing.
you groan, shuffling impossibly closer to him, in search of any sort of friction. “and you’re needy in the morning,” louis hums, trying to hold you down, trying to wake up, trying to keep up. but his brain was always a little fuzzy with you, and well he’s barely slept, and throw in last night’s admissions, and your cunt is dangerously close to finding out that he’s already quite hard. and really, he just needs to breathe.
“c’mon, darling, slow down,” louis whispers against your lips, “we have all the time in the world,” he adds, hoping that the prospect of lengthy, lazy, slow early morning sex would win you over.
but instead, he’s met with a disgruntled groan, and a shake of your head, teeth sinking into the plushness of his bottom lip, “m’already going slow,” you speak, actions contradicting your words as your hips grind down again, harder, a bit faster, your clit colliding with the hard tip of his prick.
a smirk pulls at your lips, shaking your head again, although more playfully this time, pulling away from his mouth to lock eyes with him, a silent conversation between the two of you.
and a moment later, your thigh was off his hips, your hands on the waistband of his pants, pulling them clean off his legs, boxers following suit just as quickly. in your rush to get onto him, you’d almost forgotten your panties, something you’re thankful that louis catches. his hands fall delicately on your hips, thumbs tickling your skin, still making any sort of effort to slow you down, even if just a little bit.
louis slowly glides his hands, fingers splayed out, selfishly trying to touch as much of you as possible, bringing your thin panties down your legs in the process. he notices the tremor run through your body, following his hands, an eruption of goosebumps left behind in their wake. he watches the sticky line of your arousal still attached from your pussy to your panties, thinning out the more he pulls them down. he feels like he’s looking at someone almost ethereal, with the way the golden glimmer of morning sun makes your skin glow, makes your arousal glisten, it takes his breath away. he really doesn’t think he’s ever been this lucky.
as soon as your panties were off, you threw yourself onto him, louis landing back onto the mattress with a soft thud, your legs on either side of his hips, straddling him, elbows supporting yourself on the mattress, above louis’ shoulders, your hands buried in his hair.
instantly, your lips are back on his, grinding yourself down over his bare length. your cunt was soaked, slit spread over his cock, gliding effortlessly with every roll of your hips.
your fingers were wrapped tightly into louis’ hair, gripping at the roots, his nails leaving deep indents in the skin of your hips, as a particular roll of your hips made the tip of his cock press up into your clit one moment, getting caught on your entrance the next.
neither of you were quite sure how it happened, especially without the use of hands, but louis’ hips had lifted clean off the bed, taking you along with him, cock pressed snuggly against you, and with your pussy absolutely drenched, his length painfully hard, the angle just right, he was sinking inside you.
your mouth falls open, breath knocked clean out of your lungs, forehead falling forward onto louis’, eyes rolled back as you struggle to catch your breath.
a soft groan grumbles deep in his chest, his hands pressing into your hips, holding you, trapping you down onto him, his prick seethed deep inside you, not letting you move an inch. he could feel you splitting open for him, could feel you spasming around his cock, could feel you desperately trying to move. and if he let you, he was instantly going to cum. and he was not about to let that happen. not when he’d just gotten you back onto him.
in an effort to distract himself, one of his hands leaves you, blindly swatting in the space occupied by niall, eventually colliding with his head, leaving a series of small smacks.
but he’s met with nothing more than an annoyed grumble from niall, and a few laughable swats back in his sleepy state. louis rolls his eyes, gripping hard into niall’s hair, giving a sharp tug.
“fuckin hell,” niall quips, “what do you wan-“ he cuts himself off as he finally turns his head, eyes peaking open, taking in the scene in front of him, a soft, sleepy, sighing chuckle escaping his lips.
“one of those mornings, pet ?” niall murmurs, every bit of malice in his tone completely wiped away, giving louis the impression that morning sex is clearly a definite regular occurence.
niall’s fingertips reach out for your arm, gliding up and down softly, soothingly. you whimper against louis’ lips, nodding your head to niall’s question, your pussy clenching particularly hard at the tickling smoothness of his fingers on your warmed skin. louis lets out a whimpery moan, one he couldn’t hold in, even if he’d tried, the grip on his prick so unexpected, his teeth biting into your lip.
niall eyes the both of you, unable to see your hips under the blanket, his eyes settling on you, “y’already sitting on him, petal ?” he asks softly, hooking his finger under your chin, making louis’ teeth slip from its grip on your lip, forcing you to look up at him.
“mhmm,” you nod, as best you can with a finger holding your chin, feeling the soft press of niall’s lips against the tip of your nose, breathing quietly, “really missed him didn’t you ?”
you were nodding again, tilting your head back to reach for niall’s lips, his falling on yours effortlessly. almost like the pull of magnets. his large hand falls on your jaw, thumb spread out to rub on the apple of your cheek, right below your eye, his pinky splayed out on your neck.
he takes his time enjoying the kiss, before pulling away from you slightly, eyes flicking over to louis, nodding his head for him to lift himself from the mattress, which he does swiftly, connecting their lips as well.
you watch them take a moment for themselves, niall’s hand holding louis from the nape of his neck, before pulling away, and sitting himself back on his calves. you and louis could both see that he had a plan working in his brain, one that you were both about to question when you feel the press of niall’s hand against the middle of your back, forcing you and louis back into your original position. and then, he disappears under the blankets.
you were left more confused, until niall grips onto louis’ hands, placing them on your bum, his fingers reaching down to where your ass met your thighs, niall making him grip into you, spreading you open.
the next thing louis is made aware of, is a loud moan breathed onto his lips, your cunt spasming around him, “christ, what’s he doing to you, darling ?”
but you couldn’t answer, your head was spinning, niall’s tongue flicking hard against your hole, exposed to him thanks to louis’ grip. and just as quickly as he’d started, he was pulling away. you whined, stuffing your face into louis’ neck, noting the breath leaving him, his head tipping back, breathy “oh fuck,” leaving his parted lips as his back curls slightly. your eyebrows furrow, lifting your head from the comfort of louis’ neck, giving him a questioning glance, “what’s he doing ?”
“he’s got-“ louis starts, cutting himself off, niall giving a particularly hard suck around the testicle sitting in his mouth. louis is panting, his head absolutely swimming, the feeling intensifying when niall’s hands join louis’ on your lower bum, forcing you to start riding him. slowly. so fucking slowly. he felt borderline delirious, and he fucking loved it. christ, maybe he was going to regret wanting things slow.
the way louis’ cock was rolling into you, the way it was so fucking smooth, the way it felt like he was impaling you, his tip pressing into your sweet spot deliciously, steadily, heavily. your brain was flying, body trembling from the languid strokes of his dick along your inner walls, unable to move much more than what niall was controlling.
niall pops off louis, flattening his tongue, timing his actions just as he makes you slowly rise, thrusts still deliriously paced, taking a long lick from the base of louis’ cock, up to your hole, flicking your ring of muscles again.
both you and louis moan out loudly, his fingers digging into your bum harder, your face picking itself up from the comforts of his neck to smash your lips against his, panting against his mouth. you were a whimpery, whiny, trembling mess. louis struggling not to buck up hard into you, fighting within himself since the scene was just so fucking good as is.
it’s a rhythm niall’s taken an obvious liking to, his tongue working in tandem with the thrusts he was implementing, licking up louis’ cock just as you pull up, tongue falling onto your sensitive hole as you sit back down on louis’ prick.
he was losing his fucking mind. louis was sure of it. he’s not sure he’s ever felt such, such- christ even he’s not so sure there’s a word for it. but it’s got his toes curling, and his fingers gripping, and his back arching, and his head tipping back, even his fucking eyes were rolling.
and niall noticed. was not about to let this happen so soon. not when he was enjoying this so fucking much. loved all the noises he was able to pull from the two of you. loved all the body tremors. the pure neediness seeping out of the both of you.
so on the next lift of your hips, niall pulls you clean off louis’ prick, hearing the sharp inhale from you, and the loudly desperate groan from louis, his fingers almost ripping at your skin. your nails dug deep into louis’ scalp, cunt clenching over nothing, a small spurt of liquid squirting from your pussy, getting both louis’ cock and niall’s face.
niall never, in a million years, thought he’d be lunging mouth first at someone’s cock, but he guesses life is meant to surprise you. watching louis’ length dripping with both your arousal and your squirt was all he needed for his brain to go blank, and for his body to take over without thought.
his mouth sinks down on louis’ dick, as best he can considering he’s never done anything remotely close to this before, sucking up as much of your taste as he can, revelling in the heady, musty mix of louis’ flavour.
one of louis’ hands shoots out to grip niall’s hair, tugging hard, “fuckin christ, this isn’t gonna stop me cumming, mate.”
niall breathes a chuckle as he slides off of louis’ prick, “know i love to taste, can’t help myself,” he hums, feigning innocence, taking a few more licks and another bob of his mouth for good measure. and with his eyes zeroed in on your dripping entrance, he helps himself to a quick lap of his tongue, before sliding louis’ cock back inside you.
you moan out loud, your face falling into louis’ neck again, mouthing at his stubbly jaw, his head tipping back to give you more access. he was panting, his hand leaving niall’s hair, falling back onto your bum.
niall catches the small twitches in louis’ fingers, the restlessness of his legs, somehow understanding exactly what he’s silently asking, niall tapping his fingers against the back of louis’ hand, something they both seem to understand. like a code they’ve never even discussed.
and so louis’ hand leaves the swell of your ass, landing a hard smack, your mouth instantly falling open, breath knocked clear from your lungs, your body curling up slightly, as best as it could in the position you were being held in.
it seemed to calm louis a bit, the edge taken off, as he fights to release. to hold off. to fucking anything. “kiss me, darling, please” he breathes, trying to reach your mouth, needing something to tether himself to, especially since niall’s started the languid lapping of his tongue again. up and down and up and down, a rhythmic flow that’s driving him absolutely mental, timed with the trusts, and fucking hell he’s never felt so prickly, so tingly, so god damn heated.
you were trying to kiss him, trying to suckle at his lips, but your jaw kept slacking on its own accord, the kiss somehow turning into more of a panting in each other’s mouths, and you think you were revelling in it. both of you were. in the intimacy of random pecks wherever they may land, sharing breath, sharing moans, and then louis was itching again. needed to do something. needed, needed.
he doesn’t know what kind of primal reaction came over him, he doesn’t even know if his brain was in on it, but your mouth was hanging open, and it was right fucking there, and he just needed to have some kind of control. some kind of something.
the next thing he knew, his head was lifting just slightly to have a more direct angle at you. your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to how he even has the power to lift his head at the moment. that is until his eyes locked on your mouth, spit flying onto your tongue.
your eyes flutter shut, whimpery moan breathed out, pulling his head closer to yours, foreheads resting together. you swallow quickly, panting quietly, “again,” your jaw slacking, tongue sticking out, another dribble of saliva smacking onto your tongue. and you were cumming.
louis’ eyes roll back, his body falling onto the mattress, fingernails dug so deep into your ass, the clench of your orgasm so tight. too tight. fuck, he can’t. he’s not sure this was exactly his plan, but his grip was so rough, he pulled you clean off of him, another rush of liquid gushing from you.
and when louis feels it splashing over his prick, he can’t help but cum as well.
niall’s eyes go wide, mouth falling on louis’ prick instantly, sucking and swallowing down every spurt enthusiastically. he’s really always loved to taste.
louis moans loudly, back arching, lifting you with him, his hands finally leaving your poor bruised bum, gliding up your back, holding you to him tightly, hips lifting in a quick thrust, tip hitting the back of niall’s throat.
the gagging. fuck, it’s so tight around his prick again. from your clenching cunt to niall’s spasming throat. louis is seriously going to lose his mind. very soon. he needed to calm down, needed to ground himself somehow. christ, he felt like he was high. high on nothing but the two of you.
niall pops off louis’ cock, taking another smooth lick at your weepy cunt, before wiggling his way out of the blankets, taking in the state of both of you since he’d started his ministrations.
he’s not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t quite this level of fucked out for the both of you. a smirk can’t help but pull at his lips, almost proud of himself for being able to render you both into a puddle of goo in the middle of his bed. a scene he’ll definitely store under lock and key, the golden streams of sunlight filtering through his billowing curtains, the window cracked from last night. goosebumps littering both you and louis, the glimmering rays making you both glisten with sweat, chests panting, eyes heavy. he’s never seen something so beautiful.
he reaches out to run his fingertips along your exposed back, up and over louis’ arm, to his shoulder. “feeling good ?” he murmurs quietly, the moment feeling incredibly soft, not wanting to disrupt the fairly soundless moment.
louis smiles, his head rolling heavily towards niall, nodding, breathing out a “yeah,” his eyes shining. fucking shining at him. and niall thinks his heart actually bursts.
and then he catches the soft crinkles by your eyes, telltale sign that you were smiling, something he could tell even if your face was mostly hidden in louis’ shoulder. that is, until you raise your head to properly look at niall, and god fucking christ, he’s not sure what he’s done to have his two favourite people look at him like he’s actually hung each star in the sky, one by one, just for them, but he’s soaking this moment in. has to. his eyes flicking from yours to louis’, drinking you both in.
he leans down on his elbow, laying sideways next to the both of you, pecking oh so gently over your lips, revelling in the softness of the moment. niall spends a moment getting lost in your mouth, before turning his attention to a very patient louis, landing a deep, slow kiss to his lips as well.
it’s when niall stretches a bit to go from your mouth to louis’, that his rock hard prick bumps into your hip, and you realize how neglected his cock must feel.
you sit yourself up, your bum rested against louis’ thighs, looking down at niall’s tented boxers. you bite your lip when you note the wet patch, dribbles of precum staining a small spot right at his tip. he looked painfully hard. so much so, that you really feel bad for him.
niall pulls away from louis when he’s noticed that you’ve shifted, both of them looking over at you questioningly. that is, until louis notes that you’re staring right at the tent in niall’s briefs, “we’re not done,” he chuckles, taking a long look himself, before smirking up at niall.
“can take a break if ya need,” niall hums, “both look tired.”
but there’s some sort of awakening, some sort of adrenaline running through your veins, as you and louis lock eyes with a mischievous glint in your gazes. so louis decides to follow niall’s lead from earlier, landing his hand in the middle of his chest, making niall lay back onto the bed, stripping him of his boxers, spreading his thighs open wide.
you and louis get yourselves situated between niall’s legs, louis going in for the first lick, his tongue flat, almost slightly wrapped around niall’s girth, stroking its way up his shaft, flicking over the tip.
the moment louis’ tongue lost contact with niall’s cock, your tongue was on him, doing the same thing louis was, taking a long lick from base to tip.
you kept trading off, treating niall’s prick like a popsicle, licking up the dribbles on a hot summer day, swirling around, sucking along, nipping lightly, flicking expertly. and niall was losing himself. not just in the feel, but in the opportunity to watch the both of you between his legs, watch you both licking over his length like you were fuckin starved for it. it had him panting, groaning, whining, toes curling, struggling to keep his eyes from falling, not wanting to miss a single second, reaching down to grip each of you, tugging on your roots.
“fuckin luckiest guy in the world,” he breathes quietly, more to himself, but it doesn’t go unnoticed to either of you, louis’ gaze flicking up to niall’s with a playful smirk pulling at his lips.
“let me have a minute, love ?” louis murmurs, gaze returned to you, having a silent conversation, something he was getting good at with both you and niall, assuming the inclined physical and emotional contact having a hand in the matter.
he waits until your tongue’s flicked over niall’s tip, his mouth opening wide and sliding down his length, throat giving way effortlessly until his nose is pressed tight around niall’s lower belly.
“fuckin hell,” niall hisses, his grasp on louis’ hair tightening exponentially, back curling, panting along with the sucking of his mouth, the stroking of his tongue, the constricting of his throat.
louis lets himself enjoy a few bobs of his head, pulling off niall’s cock, watching you lick up the mix of spit and dribbles of precum, dripping their way down his shaft.
“can’t tell me it’s your first time,” niall breathes a chuckle, blinking back to reality as he catches his breath, enjoying the soft licks you were providing as a way to calm himself a bit.
“no idea what you were missing on bus one, mate,” louis laughs, his breath hitting niall’s prick, making a shiver run through him.
“wha-“ niall’s head shoots up to look at louis properly, watch him take a few licks himself, “never told me that, ya fucker. you and-“ he’s cut off by louis’ hand smacking over his mouth, with a shake of his head, a small smile pulling at his lips, “s’like 8 lifetimes ago, ni. just glad the practice paid off,” he giggles, pulling his hand away, joining you again.
niall hums quietly, letting his head fall back, letting himself get lost in the feel of both of you again. the scene in front of him was like one from a dream. the best fucking dream he’s ever had. it’s an image he’d never get tired of, that he knows for sure. his prick standing tall, tongues fighting for a chance to stroke him impossibly harder, mouths falling onto him, sucking his cock down. he was in heaven, he was sure of it. he’d never felt better, more satiated, more powerful, more blessed.
hell, there was even something about just watching the two of you, the connection you both seemed to have, the little glances you’d steal, the way your tongues would mend together whenever the opportunity arises.
even the moments where you and louis would get a little too lost in each other, tongues too busy stroking over one another, sucking on each other, had niall in a chokehold. it made his heart burst in ways he could never explain. almost like something clicking in his brain. like adding louis to the mix somehow made everything even better. christ, he never thought it could get better, it was already perfect. he doesn’t quite know what’s better than perfect, but he’s sure he’s standing in it right now.
but the more he was watching, the more his skin began prickling, itching for more. he was heated, held on the edge of blissful pleasure, never quite enough to bring him right to where he was so desperately craving.
“petal,” niall whispers, his fingers leaving your hair to stroke down the side of your face, down your cheek to your jaw, giving a little rub along your chin to really grab your attention.
when your gaze flicks from louis’ to look up at niall, you can see it. see the desperation seeping out of him. it also seemed like the moment that your brain kicked in, noting that he’s been getting increasingly fidgety, something that made you crawl up his body, letting louis take the reigns again, his mouth sinking down on niall’s length.
“what’s wrong, ni ?” you hum softly, nose bumping against his, as he gasps, louis obviously taking great care of him as you check in.
his mouth closes around your bottom lip, whimpering quietly, nipping at your skin, “how are you feeling, love ?” he questions breathily, holding you tightly against him.
and you knew exactly what he wanted, what he was truly asking with that question, something that made your lips quirk up into a smile, nodding happily. you knew he wanted your cunt, wanted to check that you were okay to do so. wanted to be wrapped by your smooth inner walls, tight and absolutely drenched, just for him. “want to, want you,” you clarify, pressing your body closer to his, tongues mingling together, a loud groan echoing in your mouth, shooting straight down to your pussy, silently thanking louis and whatever he was doing.
“c’mere you,” niall mumbles, tugging on louis’ hair, growing ever more desperate for more. just fucking more. he’s kept the pace slow all this time, and although morning sex usually screams this type of momentum, he’s fucking breaking.
with a loud, wet pop, louis’ mouth leaves niall’s dick, coming up to press a chaste kiss to niall’s jaw as he lays next to him, “feeling good there nialler ?”
“too good,” niall laughs softly, “need mo-“ he cuts himself off with a hiss, feeling your pussy open up and slide right down his length, hands shooting out to grip your hips bruisingly. “fucking hell, pet,” he gasps, back arching off the bed, “warn a lad, will ya ?”
he’s met with nothing more than a giggle from you, followed by a satisfied hum, biting on your bottom lip, hips starting to grind back and forth, forward and backwards.
niall groans loudly, his eyes fluttering shut, helping you keep up the rhythm you’ve created, “that’s it, pretty girl. fuck, that’s it,” he mewls, breathing deeply, almost purring as he does so. the spasming of your cunt, squeezing his cock tightly, almost sucking him in, dripping down his thighs with your arousal, it was enough to send niall spinning. this is exactly what he’d been waiting for.
watching your head tip back, your jaw slack, feeling his prick bob heavily back and forth inside you, pressing into your sweet spot with every rut of your hips, sensitive little button grinding over his lower abdomen, you were blissed out as well. you could feel both of their eyes on you, brain too fuzzy to really care, your hips keeping up their rhythm, panting into the air, hands gripped into niall’s forearms.
his head slowly turns to the side, eyes blinking up at louis, “c’mon, don’t be shy.”
louis’ not sure he’s ever seen niall look quite so fucked out. his eyes were heavy, breathing shallowed, muscles jittering. a stark contrast for the lad that usually has everything under control. and you. fuck, you were like something right out of a movie. you were glowing in the morning light, face tipped back in pure ecstasy, beads of sweat running down in the valley of your breasts. he was in awe of you. both of you. plus, he’s always been fascinated by your connection…
“s’it weird if i just watch for a bit ?” he finds himself asking, figuring if there’s anyone he knows that won’t look at him like he’s actually a sick fuck, it’s the two of you. and it’s not that sick really, is the frustrating part, but anyways.
thankfully, he’s met with a large smile spreading across your face, niall’s breath hitching, groaning, “think she likes that idea,” having felt the clench of your cunt at the mere thought of a spectator.
“yeah ?” louis coos, tongue darting out for a quick lick between your breasts, unable to help himself at a little taste of you again.
“mhmm,” you shudder, a shiver running through your body, niall’s grip on you tightening, pussy trembling on him, in time with your tremors.
“and what about you ?” louis asks, turning his attention to niall, face hovering a bit over his, looking over his features.
“just don’t want you feeling weird about any of it,” niall whispers, wanting to check in on him. he knows how jealous louis can get, and he’s been kicking himself for not checking on him more. he’s not going to let it happen again. with one hand leaving your hip, his fingertips gently stroke over louis’ forearm in comfort.
but louis’ shaking his head, and leaning down to peck at niall’s lips, “i want this, want to see how strong you two are, how fucking hot you two are without me,” he chuckles, “seriously, just wanna see how it is, what it is i’m striving for with you guys.”
and niall thinks for a moment, that something’s clicked in louis’ brain as well. without much of a second thought beyond that, his fingers are leaving louis’ arm, reaching out for his jaw, pulling him in for a proper kiss.
you watch them interact, feeling the twitches in niall’s hips as you notice louis’ tongue stroking his, notice the flutters in niall’s stomach muscles as louis grips his hair tighter. hear the little grunts leaving louis’ chest as niall sucks on his tongue. fuck, it was getting you off.
niall could feel it, could feel the telltale way your cunt started clenching. instantly his mouth was pulled away from louis’, hand darting out for your throat, fingers pressing into your skin tightly, “don’t you fucking dare.”
your eyes open wide, fixated on niall’s, as you start panting, trying to calm yourself. you were already going fuzzy, but with the sheer command in niall’s voice, the lack of oxygen to your brain, the complete exhaustion of a sleepless night, your mind was floating, skin was prickling, and you needed to do as he said. another option didn’t seem to exist at the moment.
your hips stilled, as you focus on breathing, body trembling, muscles twitching, slowly regulating yourself, pushing your orgasm at bay, eyes locked on niall’s the entire time, like a form of pure grounding, one that could calm you right down, no matter how commanding the tone was.
“s’a good girl,” he praises, smiling at you, fingers loosening their grip, index stroking the column of your throat, “such a fuckin good girl,” he coos quietly.
louis was once again, absolutely rock hard, cock standing tall, and christ, he’s only been watching you two for a couple of minutes. he’d never seen something so god damn hot. he’s watched his fair share of porn, but nothing came close to being privy to this.
niall could tell the moment your eyes opened, the moment the shift happened, with his hand wrapped around your throat, could tell how far you were floating. he pushes himself up into a sitting position, pecking along the side of your neck, your jaw, your ear, murmuring, “m’gonna take over, pet. can you give me a colour ?”
he was patient about it, coaxing an answer out of you with every delicate kiss, until he heard the breathy, satiated, comfortable puff, “green.”
and there was the shift in niall, quickly pulling you off your comfortable seat that is his prick, positioning you like a rag doll. your pliancy in these moments was something niall was always grateful for, folding you over so that your face and chest were pressed into the mattress, lifting your hips high into the air.
instantly, his cock was nestled back into you, making you gasp loudly, arms stretching out above you, hands gripped tightly into the sheets, tugging as niall’s hips pull back slowly, impaling you the next moment, feeling his dick so fucking deep inside you. he does it a few more times, before picking up the pace, hands holding onto your hips to keep you in place.
your ears were ringing so loudly, you weren’t all too sure what sounds were coming out of you, nor did you have half the mind to care, but if you focus enough, you can pick up your whiny moans, and breathy gasps. your face was being pressed into the sheets below you, niall’s palms pressed into the swell of your ass, fingers gripping, using it as a hold on you, hips held in place.
“left some marks, tommo,” niall grunts between thrusts, your bum pulled up by his hold, splatter of bruises all over the underside of your cheeks, a mix of fingerprints and scratches littering your skin.
louis turns over on the bed, feet now aimed up above your head, laying on his side, supported by his elbow, peeking over and noticing the dark blue and purple pattern, bright red, slightly raised scratches. he’s not sure how to feel. his hand reaches out instinctually, fingertips delicately lining up with some of the bruises, almost as if needing to confirm for himself that it was, indeed, his own hand.
he feels the pure hot heat coming off of your skin, making him flinch lightly, pulling his hand away, “fuck, m’sorry, darling. did i hurt you ?”
but he’s met with nothing more than niall’s hand falling on his shoulder, shaking his head, “ask her that later,” he groans, biting his lip, your cunt squeezing him like a vice, “she- fuck, she can’t answer that right now.”
it’s moments like these that louis’ learned to make a solid mental note about. he’s learning. learning you. how to be with you, how to care for you, how to grow the bond.
“she’s fine though,” niall fills in, swatting fairly hard, right where louis left the worst of the bruises, a loud guttural groan punctured from your lungs, grip in the sheets tightening, nails close to ripping through the fabric. your chest presses harder against the bed, bum lifting on its own accord, in an effort to search for more, pushing itself into niall’s hand, almost obediently so.
niall chuckles breathily, biting his lip for a moment as he takes a deep breath through his nose, “fuckin perfect girl,” he curses, landing another spank, on the same side, over the same spot.
you mewled, your back arching impossibly more, surely a move that would cause you pain later, right as another quick smack falls on your bum, this time on the other side. a move that makes you almost purr, legs trembling, one of your hands pulling down, tucking your arm under your face in comfort, elbow bumping into louis on the way.
it’s the first time you realize he’s so close, eyes blinking open, noting his thighs, his prick fairly close to your face, still watching where niall’s cock is disappearing inside you. without much thought, your mouth opens, taking his tip in your mouth, tongue swirling.
louis gasps loudly, a quick moan following his initial shock, niall’s eyes opening and falling on your mouth, wrapped around louis’ cock. niall quickly lands a hard smack against your ass, your jaw slackening, wailing around louis’ length.
“did i fuckin tell you to do that ?” niall growls, watching you instantly slide off his shaft, mouth leaving with a pop, and a small whine.
he reaches down, grasping your hair, pulling you up onto your knees, back pressed to his chest, head falling to his shoulder. it was too heavy for you to hold up anyway.
niall’s arms wrap themselves around you, tucking his face against your shoulder, holding you tightly to him, hands grasping your breasts, your hips, your arms, unable to get enough of you, taking a moment to drink you in. he takes a big breath in your neck, leaving a series of pecks, eyes flicking over to meet louis’, “c’mere.”
and louis can see it in his eyes, sees that the scene is about to come to an end, something he’s always cued from niall, something he just seems to know, always. so louis slides himself under the two of you, his cock so painfully hard, standing tall right below your entrance, hands falling onto your thighs, silently letting you know that he’s right there too.
one of your hands leaves it’s grip in niall’s arm, falling to grip onto louis’ hand. when louis’ eyes flick to your entwined fingers, he swears he can almost see your tummy jumping softly in time with niall’s thrusts.
with your hand in his, he slides over to that spot on your lower abdomen, his palm pressed to the back of your hand, and you could both feel it, feel the steady bomp, bomp, bomp of niall’s cock. it sent your mind reeling even more, something so fucking intimate about feeling someone inside you like that.
“fuck, fuck,” niall groans loudly, feeling your cunt squeeze down on him, orgasm rippling through you, the grip on him bringing on his own high quickly. too quickly. niall was not ready. he pulls you off of his prick, mid-high, pussy spasming around nothing, strong gush leaving your centre.
just as quickly as you’re pulled off of niall’s cock, you were being seated on louis’, a loud groan leaving him, your still cumming cunt sucking him in, constricting around him tightly. the move makes you fall forward, hands landing on either side of louis’ head, forehead dipped to his, panting against his mouth, jaw slacked open, still trembling from your high without any time to recover.
niall’s panting, holding off his high, hand delicately falling on your back, “colour, pet,” he whispers, his other hand against louis’ thigh, silent warning not to move yet. no matter how hard it may be. and then, there it was, the hushed breath, “green.”
louis’ hips instantly buck into you, feet planted on the mattress, hips picking up right where niall had left off, a blinding pace, something that louis was silently grateful for. the slowness he was searching for, however many hours ago, had been long satiated.
the harsh pace, switched up angle of louis being below you, you could feel the warmth spreading from your belly to your extremities, prickling, tingly heat, and for a moment, you’re not even sure your last orgasm even really finished as this one starts to come on.
a drawn-out groan from louis, tightening grip of his fingertips into your hip, was all niall needed to know that you were cumming again, wailing mewl leaving the both of you as he pulls you off of louis’ cock, too fast for louis to quite get where he wanted to be, feet kicking out in frustration. a long spurt of liquid gushed from you again, barely having time to finish before niall’s cock glides right into you, sharp gasp coming from niall’s lungs.
he grips you from your throat, lifting you up to rest against him again, niall a panting mess against your shoulder. he reaches over your hip, lining up louis’ cock with your entrance, alongside his, “colour,” he sighs, trying to catch his breath, trying to hold himself back, but fuck your cunt was absolutely screaming at him, squeezing him, sucking on him. fuck.
“green.”
louis bucks up immediately, your cunt so fucking soaked, he had no issues sliding right in, stuffed deep alongside niall, all three of you with your jaws slackened, panting, mewling, gasping, whining, fuck no one was really sure anymore. and then when niall’s hand tightens around your throat, your pussy clenches hard, a sob leaving your lips as you tremble through another orgasm, constant stream of clear liquid leaving you, milking their orgasms with the squeezing of your centre.
niall’s hold on you tightens as he comes down from his high, pecking delicately over your shoulder, murmuring loud enough for louis to head, “we’re gonna pull out, petal. get you cozy, perfect girl.”
and you assume they do just that, as by the time that you float back to proper consciousness, you were sandwiched between them, their hands gently stroking your skin, both taking turns telling you how perfect you are, how much they love you, how happy they are with all of you here together. it was sweet, it was soft, it was filled with kisses and sweet licks. you could feel the warmth of the day lulling you back, the sunlight having shifted long ago from the early morning glow, to the mid morning brightness.
you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering open, niall smiling up at you, noting the telltale puff of air, “hello beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, not wanting to startle you. he’s met with a beautifully soft, content smile, and a ruffle of his hair. louis smiling at you as well, offering a small, lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw.
with your return to the real world, the promise that you were okay, comfortably placed between them, the sleepiness returns quickly, adrenaline of the moment having worn off. nobody’s sure who it was that nodded off first, but the gentle rubs were dwindling down to nothing, all of your limbs touching in some way, tangled together, in a soothing pile on niall’s bed, louis breathing out quietly, “m’definitely gonna get used to this.”
……
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
tags : @cc-horan28 @acesofspadess @slutforcoffein @blondedmgc @daphnesutton
#niall horan#louis tomlinson#niall horan smut#louis tomlinson smut#niall horan fanfiction#louis tomlinson fanfiction#niall horan x reader#louis tomlinson x reader#niall horan writing#louis tomlinson writing#nouis#one direction#niall horan series#louis tomlinson series#niall horan masterlist#louis tomlinson masterlist#niall horan one shot#louis tomlinson one shot#writings#justmeinatree
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Good Night's Sleep (part 2) - Zandik x Reader
Author's note: Feed this to an AI algorithm and I'm giving you Clostridium difficile. Also fuck this. This is nowhere close to what I wanted, so now I'm throwing it out so it won't leer at me from my wips. Maybe I'll come back once I get over my subconscious aversion to writing smut.
1.8k words
Warnings/tags: dubcon, but not how you think, dry humping, blood (very little), fem reader, tigers have barbed penises, earlier somnophilia, panic, coercion, they're both something, suggestive, nsfw, zandik is stuck in his head
Part 1
MINORS, AGELESS, AND BLANK BLOGS DNI - you will be blocked on sight
"Go back to sleep"
There was a slight crack his voice despite Zandik's best effort to keep it even. He had already moved away from you, shaking his hands in the air, trying desperately to rid himself of the unpleasant sensations.
His palms tingled, caressing the ghost of your skin with every frantic movement. For the third time in his life there was nothing in his mind. It made him want to rip his hair out.
You were turning around.
Something had to be done to make you stop, he wouldn't look at you. Moving in tandem, he rolled onto his other side. The front of his boxers was wet. An urge to scream scratched at the back of his throat.
"Zandik? I- I asked you a question…"
Her voice felt like syrup, flowing into his ears. Thick, disgusting, alluring. The light sniffles were filtered out by his mind, as was the way her breaths became increasingly erratic. It felt vile, being an insect writhing on silken strands was not something that suited him.
Zandik recoiled when your fingers dug into his shoulder, you shouldn't be reaching out for him. He shuffled further towards the other side of his mattress. A calm mind to handle this, that's what was needed, and nothing about you trying to turn him around was calming. Although his mind had cleared significantly, there was still a bothersome ache in his body.
"And I said go back to sleep," he'd snapped the words at you before he could stop it.
Everything felt awful when he pushed off to stand, blanket sliding into a pile. His back was towards you when he clambered out under the net, stomping barefoot away from your little camp. Under normal circumstances he would've scoffed at anyone doing the same, if was unsafe and a blatant overreaction.
That didn't matter. Not when he could feel the sticky substance sliding down his abdomen. How it made the fabric cling to his skin. Worst of all was the smell of his own release. Even while covering his mouth and nose with a hand, he could detect those musky notes.
It made him gag, crumpling into the underbrush as he fought back the urge to empty the contents of his stomach. Morbid curiosity bid his free hand to ghost over his crotch, body jerking when he felt the wet patch. Even worse was the fact that he was still-
He shook his head, uncaring that his head still swam and any jostling came with a risk. A clear mind, that was the least he could supply. Soft sounds of running water caught his attention. Perfect.
It was closer than he'd dared to hope. Half tumbling down a small hill before he found himself on his knees. The water had already been disturbed by his movements, if there were predators, stealth was no longer an option.
The least he could do was practice restraint this time. Being found half naked, mauled in a stream was far from the legacy he desired. After what felt like an eternity of bated breaths, eyes flickering around the dark forest, Zandik dared to relax a little. If a spinocrocodile or worse had been nearby, it would've already struck by now.
Cleaning himself took longer than what was reasonable, but the cool water helped to soothe the prickling under his skin. Thoughts of you were kept at bay by his shivering, and every tantalizing memory that did make it through those defenses was quickly decimated with a simple look at the consequences in his hands.
Failure was a ruthless teacher.
His hands remained submerged in water, fingertips slowly going numb. Slivers of moonlight crept through the canopies above. There was something twisted in how gently it caressed his features when his head tilted back. Why would it shine so lovingly on him now?
Perhaps playing your preordained part was the only way to be accepted by them.
Walking back turned out to be more difficult than expected, feet dragging along the ground being a particular nuisance when paired with less than optimal lighting conditions.
How was he going to explain that he was naked? The thought of stumbling into someone else on the short walk back briefly flashed through his head, but that was a thought he would not entertain. Not until faced with that reality at least. And what would he say when you undoubtedly kept pestering him with questions?
There was no doubt that he had to go back, you still had things to complete the following day. And returning to the Akademiya alone would be folly, not when everyone knew you'd left together.
He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, briefly flinching from the cold touch. How was he supposed to deny what you would've pieced together in an instant if you were properly awake. Convincing you it had been a figment of your own imagination was undoubtedly the best course of action. If only there were dreams to blame.
Conveniently, your back was turned towards the direction he emerged from. Carefully maneuvering back to his mat, he swiftly looked through the modest bag he'd brought, desperate for something to cover himself with after forsaking his clothes in the water. A waste, but one he couldn't bring himself to care about. Especially not when his focus was broken by you moving a little.
With rising adrenaline, he swiftly lay down, struggling to pull the blanket over himself without alerting you. Clean boxers gripped tightly in his hand, he waits with bated breath for what feels like an eternity, accompanied only by your soft breaths and the ringing in his ears.
When you hadn't moved for a while he took the chance to shuffle around a bit, intent on finally getting dressed again and forget this ordeal.
"You know," your soft voice caused his breath to hitch, the silence deafening before you continued, "you could've just asked me…"
He lay frozen, leg raised off the ground, boxers halfway on as he considered if acknowledging your statement would doom his set course of action. Before he could finish the thought, you continued, uncharacteristically certain with your words.
"I'm at least guessing it wasn't an accident?"
"I simply needed some air and got up. It's none of your concern," he found himself struggling to remain cordial.
Why couldn't you just leave him be?
He heard your little huff, could almost see the way you were no doubt leering at him, deep eyes narrowed in frustration. It was infuriating how quickly you flooded his mind again, the clear water of the stream having done nothing to wash away those urges.
"Why can't you just admit to it? I know that was cum on my back, Zandik. I'm not stupid."
"Good, then you'll have no trouble understanding when I tell you to stop bothering me and go back to sleep."
Admittedly, the words came out harsher than intended, but the longer you remained awake, the more difficult it would be to write all this off as a drowsy delusion.
When his eyes finally closed, everything finally began to feel better. The ordeal had even made a comfortable weariness settle behind his eyes.
It took mere minutes before his rest was disturbed by a weight against him. He turned onto his back, wanting nothing more than look at the stars and scream. Instead he was met with your face hovering above him.
You adjusted your body, straddling his hips as you straightened your back. His eyes were wide, following the lines of your body, seeing the light bruising that had bloomed from his touch. Shame burned in his blood, not from the action but the confrontation that he hadn't been nearly as restrained as he thought.
He took a deep breath, tensing when your hands pushed down on his shoulders.
"Get off"
"Why? Isn't this what you wanted?"
He had to grit his teeth when you rolled your hips, keenly aware of the blood gathering down there. It didn't help how warm you felt against him.
"I said, get off"
You shot him a glare, nails digging into his shoulders a little. He knew the look in your eyes. You were plotting something, and if he wasn't struggling to keep his focus away from your lips, he might have been able to prepare.
The relief that entered him when you leaned forward was palpable, trapped in the mindset that you would climb back down. Instead your warm tongue pressed against his pulse, dragging up the column of his neck. It made him groan, hands shooting up and grabbing your waist in an instant to stop your movements.
That was a mistake. Once more feeling your softness had his mind reeling, and he didn't miss how sighed in satisfaction when his grip tightened. Your breath wafted against his ear, close enough that he could almost feel your soft lips against his skin.
"But I want to do this with you"
Something in your voice made him shiver, stoking the embers of an unknown force. It made him briefly pause, and that was apparently all the opportunity you needed. He doesn't have time to react before you've pulled the blanket out from between your bodies.
You're practically laying atop him, the feeling not nearly as restrictive as feared. Eyes fluttering at the odd comfort it provided.
"How are you-" his voice falters, nothing but static in his mind for a moment. "How can you enjoy this?"
Bubbling laughter ringing through the darkness is all the answer he gets, swiftly accompanied by the press of lips against his collarbone. He writhed at the feeling, obtrusive and much too intimate. Would you rip out his throat if given the chance? Would he?
His fingers were sneaking under the hem of your shirt, discovering with dismay that the fabric had a moist spot at the very bottom… You hadn't changed. Repulsive.
He has to yank your hair for your lips leave the bruise they'd been carefully nurturing. Your expression reminds him of predator moments before it strikes, and he can only scold himself for not recognizing that of course the intensity he respected would bleed into every aspect of your being.
"Stay with me."
A groan is ripped from his throat when you bite down at the junction of his neck, one of your hands tugging at his hair. Tentatively, his fingers run along the curvature of your spine, feeling how you arched for him. Warmth spread through his body with every kiss and lick to the column of his neck, barely noticing how you were grinding against him.
It did feel good, he wasn't blind to how his cock throbbed from the stimuli. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of your back splitting open under his nails, nor were the whines spilling from your lips.
#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#zandik x reader#genshin impact x reader#tw dark content#tw dubcon#crow with a pen#x reader#il dottore x you#dottore x you#x female reader
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Surprise Visit Pt 2 (Thor X Son!Reader)
Characters: Thor Odinson X Son!Reader
Universe: Marvel, Avengers
Warnings: None
Pt 1
Request: Hi, I'm just finish Poco's udon world, and right of the batch I thought what if Poco is Thor's son, Poco has some of his feature too and I remember your fic Surprise Visit. Can you please do a Part 2 of it?🥺 reader is like Thor but he quite shy and always bring with books that his mother read before bed they bonding by activities together Thor bring him to Asgard to meet his grandparents Loki read them books, tell them stories, show and teach them magic (Harry Potter) with Freyaa and all fluff❤
The first few days after finally meeting your dad had been awkward to say the least. You were spending almost every waking moment either with him, or your uncle. You had expected that Loki would be a lot more awkward with you- or straight up wouldn’t like you from the get go, but it ended up being kind of the opposite. Thor had been a bit too eager from the get go to play the fatherly role, and you found it unnerving, and when Thor realised that (with help from Clint and Steve pointing it out for him) he backed up and started to just try and get to know you, your interests, your dislikes, and take things a little slower. Loki, on the other hand, was nowhere near as pushy, gave you space, and didn’t force conversation on to you. Eventually though, you ended up finding something to bond with Loki over; Books.
You had been interested in the books he read, even if you couldn’t read the language, and worked up the courage to ask him about it, and after an explanation, he asked what kind of books you liked, and it was a start of an actual long and meaningful conversation. Loki took that, and hinted that Thor should look into those books. The next day, Thor showed up to your room with a pile of books in his arms and a grin on his face.
Things since then had got a lot better between you and your dad. Instead of forcing it, or acting the part for the sake of it, Thor had naturally fallen into the father role that made it a comfortable change for you. Thor had little interest in books, but you had the ritual with him now of him buying a book for you, you read it, and after every chapter, you give him a rundown of what happened in detail, and you’d discuss it. You’d opened up a bit with him over the weeks, about what your life was like growing up with mum, holidays, key memories for you, and the rituals you two had- including reading books before bed together, which was where your love for books came from. Thor soon got you some of the books you mentioned, so you could do it with him. You got into a nice rhythm of living with and being around your dad and uncle, to the point where you were expecting it when an advancement was suggested.
“How do you feel about going to Asgard with Loki and I, tomorrow?” Thor asked, as you were tidying up after another late night discussion about a book you had been reading- this one actually a recommendation from your Uncle Loki. You stopped what you were doing, and looked over at Thor, who waited patiently.
“Uh… sure. Okay.” You agreed hesitantly, and immediately his face lit up. You had long guessed this conversation would happen, so you had time to prepare for it, though you knew that was actually impossible. What could prepare you for going to the land of gods- where you know you didn’t belong, even if Thor was your father? “Do… Do they know about me?” You asked cautiously.
“Of course!” He immediately answered. “As soon as I returned to Agard after we met, I told mother and father about you, and my friends! I wanted to tell the entire kingdom, but mother- your grandmother, insisted we wait till you met them all first before telling the rest of Asgard. Freya, your grandmother, is the most eager to meet you.” He gushed to you. You’d heard a lot about your grandparents through both Thor and Loki. Admittedly, Thor was the only one who talked about Odin, and while Loki didn’t talk much about them, when he did, it was always about Freya, about how she was also a bit of a bookworm, and how she taught him magic.
You got up early the next morning, mostly due to struggling to sleep from the anticipation, and you didn’t have to wait for either your dad or uncle to be ready either, though you couldn’t tell if it was due to excitement or nerves, or maybe they were both feeling those things- your dad the excitement, and Loki the nerves. It didn’t help that your dad was a raving optimist, and your uncle was a pessimist, so you couldn’t tell who was feeling the right way, so you just adopted a bit of each of their emotions. Cautiously excited.
You honestly wasn’t sure what to expect when you actually got there, or even the process of getting there in the first place, but as soon as you left the Bifrost, you were in awe. Sure, they had told you all about Asguard- the rainbow path that led to it, the great kingdom, the beauty of it all, but none of that was in comparison to what you were actually seeing. You remained in stunned silence the entire walk up the bridge, actually entering into Asguard, past the several hundred people who came to welcome them back and ask about you, up until your father actually called for you, after seeing you distracted by something else further away. You turned, seeing several people stood with your father and uncle, looking at you smiling. “Y/N, these are my friends, Fandrall, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif.” Your father introduced you.
“So this is the little prince?” Sif questioned with a smile.
“Little? Thor, you said he was a boy! Give it a few years and he’ll be ready to be king!” Volstagg laughed, though the mention of such a role made you look at Loki quickly, and then your dad.
“He is a boy! The very idea of being king is still a long way away- you make it sound like he’ll outlive me.” Thor defended.
“Speaking of Kings.” Loki spoke up, placing hand on Thor’s shoulder.
“Right! Haven’t had the chance to introduce him to the rest of his family. We’ll pick this up later, promise.” Thor told them motioning you over, and guiding you deeper into the kingdom, down several expansive corridors, before you turned a corner, and spotted a group of women talking in the hallway ahead, and your father and uncle stopped. “Loki, stay here with Y/N.” Thor requested, before going towards the group, and you looked up at Loki confused, who patted you on the shoulder. You watched as your father approached the group, made some small talk, before all the women except one left down another hallway, and Thor stepped to the side, motioning the woman towards you and Loki, and you realised who she must be. Freya. Your grandmother.
As soon as she saw you properly, she smiled warmly, hands clasped and pressed against her chest with excitement, and any fear you had- fear of not being liked, or not meeting their standards, of being a disappointment, being looked down on for being half human- it all faded. You could feel the love and acceptance radiating off the woman as she reached out her hands, and took your own. “Y/N, words cannot describe the absolute joy I feel to finally be in your presence finally after all of Thor’s descriptions.” Freya told you, gently squeezing your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile too.
“I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you too from dad and uncle Loki.” You told her, and her smile grew, before she pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you.
“Thor- Loki, go tell your father that you’re here with Y/N- I’ll give Y/N a tour of the palace- we’ll be in the library when you’re done. We have a lot to talk about.” Freya decided, already walking away with you, and you didn’t fight it, leaving with her.
Thor and Loki did as ordered, finding their father, letting them know they’d also brought you, and after a bit of back and forth questioning where exactly you were, and Loki explaining their mother had already stolen you away herself, and Odin simply sighed, and got up to follow his sons to head to the Library.
By the time they met back up with you and Freya, you and her were already getting along like a house on fire- she’d asked about your mother, her health, your childhood, her own expieriences that related when raising Thor and Loki, and when she heard about your little tradition with Thor with books, she picked out a book for you to take home to read, and to keep. You felt comfortable enough with her to ask about Loki and Odin’s relationship, the comment Thor’s friends made about being King one day and how you weren’t big on the idea, and also how according to how your dad and Loki talked about Odin, you were much more worried about meeting him than her. Freya had answers your questions, reassured you of your worries, and promised Odin would be on his best behaviour, and she helped your first meeting with Odin a lot from the get go.
As soon as Freya saw her husband, she stood first, smiling. “Odin, thank you for joining us. I was just about to ask Y/N if they’d like a private family dinner. What do you think?” Freya asked him, wrapping an arm around you again, and you smiled nervously at your grandfather, who was a lot more intimidating than you had anticipated. Odin didn’t talk at first, stepping a little closer, and you panicked internally, not knowing what to do, if you were supposed to do something- but Freya had kept her arm around you, gently rubbing your arm in reassurance.
“That can certainly be arranged. It’ll let us get to know our grandson. Thor, will you come with me to make the arrangements?” He asked, of his oldest, who nodded. “See you at dinner, Y/N.” He told you, before making his leave, Thor smiling at you, before following after him.
“In the meantime.” Freya spoke up once the two were quite a distance away. “Y/N, want to learn some magic?” She asked.
“Mother, I don’t know about that…” Loki fussed.
“Just beginning spells, nothing serious… we’ll save that for later. Maybe you could mentor Y/N as well when back on Midgard.” She suggested, and you realised that maybe, just maybe… Loki got some of his mischief from his mother.
“Am I able to do magic? Since I’m half human?” You questioned.
“I believe so, it’s worth a try. You coming Loki?” Freya questioned her son, who simply sighed, and followed after, deciding to be apart of his mother’s antics, knowing that Thor might lose his mind when he finds out about this.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my Gif
TAGS: @insanityismysanity12345 @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe
#Marvel#Avengers#Thor#Thor Odinson#Loki#Loki laufeyson#freya#Odin#thor x reader#thor x male!reader#thor x son!reader#loki x reader#loki x male!reader#loki x nephew!reader#x reader#x male!reader#x son!reader#x nephew!reader#reader#male!reader#son!reader#nephew!reader#oneshot#writing#story writing#question#ask me anything#one shot#send me questions#send me asks
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Cavendish and Dakota are just really good friends!”
Allow me to explain A Christmas peril to you once again
Cavendish and Dakota had a petty argument that stuck with one another for 20+ years.
Overtime, they could’ve gotten over each other by moving on to diffrent careers, or meet different people. Likely getting new partners since they were still involved with time travel for a couple more years.
A few years later, Dakota likely had given up time traveling. Going on to be a pop star/writer, and presumably being gifted a nicer time car as a parting gift. Forgetting all about Cavendish after all those years.
Cavendish’s life seemed to stay the same, just more lonely and still mourning the loss of his friend. Rubbing salt into the wound as he watched Dakota gain popularity in the media. While Cav stayed in the same place 20 years later.
Cavendish likely never married either. Otherwise why would he still be fixated on Dakota for so long? At this point, he should've had a family and moved on, forgetting his friendship with Dakota all those years ago.
If Cavendish and Dakota had different partners for time travel after their split up, they could've found new people or possible spouses. But a majority likely weren't able to last due to them lacking connections with others.
Hence why Cavendish looks so alone in the future. He was never able to marry due to never finding anyone.
And it wasn't just Cavendish, it was Dakota too who also mourned for him years later and also never married. (Or maybe he did, and Cavendiah just never married. It’s still possible)
Dakota could've just completely ignored him. Cavendish didn't treat him well. So, Dakota had every right to be petty and ignore his entire existence. He had likely gotten married and started a family. And he had a choice to leave that point of his life forgotten, only talking his time as a time traveler, but could’ve avoided mentioning Cavendish at all.
Even though their relationship wasn't healthy and ended on a sour note, Dakota still thought about him often. He focused on the good memories they had because he knew Cavendish was still a good man. Even managing to write an entire chapter in his autobiography about him. (Actually, it’s possible he mentioned Cav throughout the book too, not just a single chapter)
There was something about Cavendish that made him so unique to Dakota after many years later. Same goes for Cavendish with Dakota.
Cavendish is a judgmental and negative person, how could Dakota still see anything distinctively good about him?
But the thing is, Dakota isn’t perfect either. He can be careless at times and sometimes selfish too. They have their flaws, but that's why they work so well. And that's why they need each other.
Cavendish is the voice of reason and prevents Dakota from doing things that’ll get him in trouble. But Dakota’s actions bring excitement into Cavs life.
Without Dakota, Cavendish’s life is sad and left without thrill. Without Cavendish, Dakota has nobody to stop him. He’s free to do whatever he wants without consequence or the rush of being told not to do something.
They completed each other, creating the perfect balance in each others lives. Otherwise, Cavendish would’ve stayed boring. But Dakota would've been free without Cav’s constant arguments. But that wouldn't be a very exciting life for Dakota now would it?
Cavendish risked a life of peace and quiet just to be with Dakota again.
Dakota risked giving up fame, fortune, and a better life for himself just to be with Cavendish again.
And if Cavendish and Dakota WERE married. They risked losing their wives/families to make amends with each other. But due to how lonely they looked in the future, it's likely they never did due to lingering onto each other for so long.
But yeah. Friends totally would break multiple time barriers just to grow old and become famous together by writing books and becoming pop idols.
#milo murphy's law#vinnie dakota#balthazar cavendish#dakavendish#milo murphy#melissa chase#zack underwood#im thinking this morning#ok I'm done rambling about this episode#i’ll get out of the kitchen
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Twst boys and their respective Vocaloid songs
Part 2 of this post!
Characters: All NRC students
Warning: Some of these songs contain angsty/dark themes or imply self-harm, however it's nothing too much as that's the nature of Vocaloid songs in general and I recommend you checking them out if you guys can!
Part 1 | Part 2
🕌 Scarabia 🕌
Kalim: Tondemo-Wonderz
This song is full of fun, excitement and upbeat, colorful beats that make you want to smile and dance along, just like the ball of sunshine Kalim he is! The song talks about embracing the unknown and excitement the world offers to us while also having fun, encouraging us to have faith in the wondrous possibilities, while also embracing the failure and mistakes with laughter and positivity. I’d say it’s a perfect song for Kalim, from the vibe to the lyrics!
“Even in this sort of era,
We still believe in "wonders," no, no, no? Know!
The adult's sharp, money-making memories
Make us worry too much! I'm gonna go cross-eyed!”
"Why?!" "Do it like this!!" I love everything! That's fine, isn’t it?
In this plot to make everyone laugh
I can call them rival monsters, right?!
We live in a wild, awesome world.”
“I reckon it's fine to have troubles you can't do a thing about!
I make a pose like I'm gonna save everyone.
How about this smile, it's not gonna crumble at all!
Even if I fall 100 times, I'm like a phoenix. I won't get upset!
Wan wan, too quick, three four! Everybody, showtime!”
“Come on professor! This exam is so tough! Agh!
Alright, done? Is it final? If I don't get 0 points, it's OK!
Let's rain a shower of arrows on those true and false questions!
Right and wrong answers are important memories."
"There are days when I fail too.
You still deny "wonders", no, no, no? Know!
Before I'm taken to pieces, listen, wait!
This slanted society is too on edge. Charge in, leap in, one more time! Are you ready?!”
-----------------------------------
Jamil: Ghost City Tokyo
Like a ghost who is almost invisible to other’s eyes, Jamil used to do the same too, he always makes sure everything he does is at an average level so nobody will notice him. That’s why I picked this song for him, also because of the lyrics - he’s used to losing, to not be able to shine and stand out for the sake of others, and it’s not something he dreamt of at all. Also I think the city here can be interpreted as Scarabia too, because he still wants to be here despite everything that happened in Book 4.
“The lights of the brilliant shining city
Shine down on me in stark contrast
They mix with the neon colours changing
and escaping from the spaces between those buildings"
"I trade my time and this world
And sink into the night”
“It’s fine, someday it will all be fine
How many days I’ve thought so, that have piled up on each other
But even today, the me who fades into the Tokyo scenery all alone
Seems like a ghost”
“Even as I grow used to losing
These important feelings that I haven't lost -
When I held them close to myself,
my tears fell suddenly
Because I think I still want to
Keep living in this city”
-----------------------------------
👑 Pomefiore 👑
Vil: Cinema
This song is pretty self-explanatory with the lyrics, it’s like someone views their life as a movie, their story is like an unchanged script, yet they’re being satisfied with everything - they want to be the leading star, the protagonist of the movie. Being someone who always has to play the villain role, I picked this song for Vil because it just fits him so much with his backstory and his goal as a whole!
“A delusion of dawn
Invaluable escapades and
A misunderstood hero play-pretend
Traffic's already jammed up now-
Oh well, nothing I can do about that anyway”
“No, it can't be this, not this.
This is a bad fit for me
I'm not suited for it-
Should I quit it now, or—
But that's not right, right! I wonder, when will I get to be
The leading star of this show?”
“We're not here yet, yet.
This can't be the end, so
If you're not suited for the role
Then just rewrite the script!
Look, for the most part, I'm sure it'll always just be me
The leading star will only be me!”
“The future I wanted to change has come.
Whatever you like, however you like it,
This is it.
I made it here, all the way from the bottom.
Just like a movie, this is my story.”
-----------------------------------
Epel: Telecaster B-boy
A song talking about the struggle of growing up, trying to find one’s place in this vast world, the singer desires to be loved and appreciated but always gets misunderstood and underappreciated and also frustrated with society, just like Epel himself. He hates being the stereotype, cliche thing. If you know his story and goal then this song is very fitting for him! Also the funky, youthful but somewhat fast beat and lyrics fit him very well too!
“The more I grow up DeDeDe
The less I fit in, a vacant temple.
The girl the life philosopher spoke to
Turns into a bird …
With just lip service PaPaPa
I'll tie up my raggedy shoes …
The boy whom a believer in digitization cursed
Turns into wind …���
“No matter how you look at it DeDeDe
It's a stereo bias, sadistic
The girl who sang like she was stung by a bee
Turns into a flower...
Even if you cover your ears PaPaPa
Those guys' voices become loud
The boy who got these words stabbed in his chest
Turns back…”
“In this world where I can't
Even breathe for a bit
Declaring a goodbye to reality
Won't you just forgive us?
We, the weak ones
Let's meet up again somewhere”
-----------------------------------
Rook: Liar Dance
Rook is a bit hard to find, but in my opinion this is the best song for him. It talks about a couple who both hide and lie to each other. But it also means that the singer’s POV is them knowing they’re a liar, a criminal just like other people. Rook himself is not an exception, he also lies and hides many things away even to his friends or someone like Vil. Also I think the lyrics fit him really well, with constant mention of love and lies many times throughout.
''Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?''
Feigning ignorance today as well
Having made a vow, to you and you alone
Declaring this loveless love of mine in front of you"
"Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?"
Committing myself to this performance, set lines and all
Those memories we've desperately created and clung to,
they blend together and feelings between us intensify”
“Dance away liar
This love has swelled up like a balloon
let's turn it into a lie with the prick of a needle
On the count of "I-love-you"
“Dance away, liar
It's too late to apologize
We're already partners in this crime called "love"
Who cares if there's no going back?”
-----------------------------------
💀 Ignihyde 💀
Idia: All I Need are Things I Like
While there could be many other songs that fit Idia, I decided to pick this one because of the lyrics and overall meaning. The song talks about indulging solely into one’s interests and favorite thing everyday, almost every time without paying much attention to reality much at all. Even though the singer sounds happy and satisfied, they also sound lonely, deprived of energy and strength and also longing for actual companionship instead of coping up to the things that they like. It sounds like Idia himself after what happened to him and also his backstory!
"I don’t like weekdays, I like the weekend
I don’t like work, I like going back to sleep
It’s impossible to live on slacking like this
My consciousness recedes"
"I don’t like vegetables, I like hamburgers
I don’t like barley tea, I like juice
Don’t be sweet on me, but I like sweet tasting things
My lifetime’s first page"
"Only looking at things I like
gradually my eyesight gets worse
Only being filled with things I like
gradually my mind gets duller"
"I don’t like living things, I like machines
I don’t like the real world, I like the virtual
Your tastes were always biased
deteriorating and ceasing to think"
"Surrounded by the things I like
I’ve become unforgiving to the things I don’t like
Living only with the things I like
I'm resented by someone, somewhere"
-----------------------------------
Ortho: Near
This song is gentle, yet emotional and bittersweet, its meaning also fits Ortho and Idia + their relationship a lot if you take it into their backstory context too. At first, Ortho is just a robot that only acts according to how he was programmed but gradually, he starts acting outside his intended programming and learns his own sentience and emotions - just like the robot girl as the song progresses. Overall, I think this fits him a lot!
“Hey, Near. If I don't make fun of someone
And if I won't be able to forgive myself
How do you feel about
This horrible person?"
"Hey, Near. Watching other's strides
Stepping out without a purpose
How do you feel about this
Dull person? Hey Near”
“Hey, Near. I think living every day with a smile
Is something natural
How do you feel about
This arrogant person?"
"Things that do not take any form and cannot be predicted
Will interfere with the calculation process"
Even so"
"Ah, I'll still continue to believe
And ask you who doesn't have a heart
Because your hand was
So much warmer than mine”
-----------------------------------
🐉 Diasomnia 🐉
Malleus: Hare wo Matsu
I feel like this song fits Malleus the most with how the lyrics constantly talk about one’s loneliness and about past’s memories. For Malleus, his biggest fear perhaps is his dearest, most cherished people leave his life, like Lilia - his guardian that raises him up ever since he’s still a little lizard or maybe even MC - his ever first friend that treats him so dearly despite his status or his fearful magic power unlike others who is afraid of him. Even the beat is also beautiful but sad, full of longing for your loved one when they leave - just like Malleus himself.
"I'm not getting tired of this morning,
One that I've waited for. Very faintly,
I'm laughing while appearing to be sorrowful,
And wishing to completely forget you."
"Because there's no end to this curse
Of sleeplessness and the painful past.
I'm singing a song in the morning glow,
If only I could completely forget, it would end."
"There's just one thing I can't yield,
And still, without knowing the reason,
I live, even now..."
"Since I don't have a dream I want to protect,
These are days with no answer,
But that isn't kindness, isn't it?"
"Look, since absolutely nothing hurts,
It's alright," I say.
Someday, when you'll be gone, ah~
Will I be living alone?”
-----------------------------------
Lilia: Kanade Tomosu Sora
I feel like this song fits Lilia the most in terms of the vibe, the lyrics that matched well with his backstory. This song, while sad, full of longing and reminiscent from the past yet it’s like a glimmer of hope somewhere in the deep, dark sea of sad memories. Lilia was the same too despite how we see him acting outwardly. He gives love to others, but he also needs love and hope. He went through events that could crush him easily and yet, he still stayed strong - for a whole 200+ years, for the sake of others. (I recommend checking out the 25ji, Night Code de version too!)
“Every time I trace back my memories,
I feel as if I’m going to be crushed, yet
Since I have no place to take refuge,
I just keep questioning myself over and over. Ah…”
“There are too many things in my way,
It’s as if there are only things I can’t see
Is it alright if I try touching it a little?
I want to say it. Even though it might surely be impossible, I want to somehow.
Hey, more; hey, more; I want to see more”
“So I can turn the images I’ve found of your world still unknown to me
Into song"
"Blaming myself all this time,
I simply live and breathe but only just barely
I’ve always shut it away in a cage
I’m not asking for a plain, simple story. I simply wish to hear your voice”
“It still hurts. Words keep tightening the cord round my neck, but...
These eyes of mine I closed so gently as well, still hurt a little, but…
I want to say it. Even though now,
I still don’t know when it’ll be but someday for sure.
Hey, more; hey, more; I want to see more”
-----------------------------------
Silver: Ice Drop
I think this song fits Silver a lot mostly because of the lyrics, and the deep sea could symbolize the dreams that he dives into in Book 7. Although it’s upbeat, the lyrics are full of longing and reminiscing of the past and also his father, but eventually move on and “grow up” from it. Not to mention, you could even take it as a SilverMC song if you think about that aspect! But even if it's not in a romantic sense, it's still a song talking about how much the past affects us and how we long for our loved one even if it's just a memory, that's why to me this song is really for Silver!
“Even the memories of the past are merely a thousand-year tale
I take a deep breath as I fall into the deep sea”
“Uh- that voice of yours drenches my whole heart
Tangled up and captivated by each other, we sing our unchanging love once more
You, not letting go of your hands become a rule of mine
It's a heart that will melt away the rusted last page
That one and only magic will turn this world around”
“I’ll be waiting. Inside my dream, I reach out my hand”
“Uh- On this planet, I fell in love without sleeping
I longed for you and hesitated what to do, but from now on, I'll grow up
You, If it’s with you, I’ll dive in without hesitation”
-----------------------------------
Sebek: Kashika
Sebek was the hardest to find for me in the entire list mainly because while he has his own character, he doesn’t have too much depth but I tried my best and I think this song fits him the most! This song is powerful, full of willpower and hope towards tomorrow despite the hard, tough times. The song encourages us to keep living, even in the most uncertain moments, you need to cherish each moment of your life as well your living heartbeat, which represents the tenacity and perseverance of life. I feel like the energy as well the meaning of the song fits Sebek a lot overall for his character - with the desire to rise, stand up and protect he always have.
“When my quivering voice breathed life into a song,
It was then I realized,
That was the first time my breath could be seen.
They say that in the end, the value of music is subjective–
Well then, I'll sing as I please,
I'll show you the message I want to convey.
I won't despair over
Or be afraid of my mistakes.
They say to "live the right way,"
But I want to fight against that.
My whole life has consisted of "it's my fault."
Even if I'm treated like a fool,
I'll be hurt and I'll hurt others,
I'll live, causing both kindness and injury.
The present I see is everything to me,
So I don't want to cling onto ideals of the past or the future.
Beat, beat, o heart of mine!
It might be unsteady, but even so, this is my pulse.”
-----------------------------------
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#vocaloid#vocaloid music#kalim al asim#jamil viper#vil schoenheit#epel felmier#rook hunt#idia shroud#ortho shroud#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#silver twisted wonderland#sebek zigvolt
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Round 4, Day 2 - MoonCancer vs. Alter-Ego
"Unfortunately, setting up a surveillance networks can't be entirely done inside. Well, it could, but only if I had a good idea of the map. And since I don't, then--"
Her commenting was stopped by a swift bladed attack swinging towards her head. The MoonCancer tripped, stumbling out of the way as she clicked her tongue, staring back at the source of the danger.
"...Okay, now this is feeling intentional. I had actual plans today, dammit. I never have those."
"You're the big threat my Masters want me to go after? You seem like the type that can't do anything more than run and hide, like a little mouse. Still, I suppose you're not her... no, if someone's a MoonCancer, then she has something to do with it."
"Why do people keep considering me a threat! But--ugh! That face… that's what I thought. You're one of those 'Sakura Five', huh? One of BB's little mistakes. The small-chested one."
"Your snide comments aside… I wonder… you recognize me, but I don't recognize you at all. Then again, only one person really held my eye at the time… were you a part of that little 'student council'?"
"Uh-- I'm just a nobody, really. I was a coward wallowing a bit in my own self-pity when you struck, so I don't have a good idea of your skills-- that, and I'm sure the Grail is blocking some of my memories…"
"But whatever! C-Consider this a grudge match, Pointy BB Junior! I'll make sure to do my part this time around!"
The boosts for this round are:
Ganesha: +3%
Meltryllis: +6%
Servant Skills:
Meltryllis (Alter-Ego)
Melt Virus (EX Rank) - When engaged in a Free-for-All, inflict all foes with a -3% demerit. If Meltryllis gains 1st place in the Free-for-All by a margin of 10% or more, inflict a -3% demerit to your foes for their next round and gain a +3% boost for your next combat round.
Crime Ballet (A Rank) - When engaged in a one-on-one, increase the Alter-Ego Class Trait one-on-one boost to +5% rather than +3% (+6% if targeting a Servant that's Playing Defensively).
Sadistic Constitution (A Rank): When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% bonus to your score. Additionally, if you end up in 1st place, inflict a wound on both the Servant in last AND the Servant in 2nd place.
Ganesha (MoonCancer)
Vinayaka (EX Rank): When 'Playing Defensively' gain a +5% bonus to scores, and you cannot be caught off guard. If you are unbothered, then this increases by 1% each time you are not attacked, resetting back to 5% once you're engaged in combat. However, this negates the inherent MoonCancer trait of ‘being unable to be targeted while Playing Defensively’. (Current boost: +5%)
Broken Tusk (B Rank): When engaged in a 1-on-1 confrontation (while not Playing Defensively), gain a +3% boost. Additionally, apply the MoonCancer Class Trait of 'not taking damage if there's a 3% difference in scores' to 1-on-1 battles as well. If Ganesha has been ‘Playing Defensively’ uninterrupted for 3 or more turns (in a row), when she goes on the offense, her attack bonus increases from 3% to 6% for that specific round. (Current defensive turn count: 0)
Due to landing in 3rd-5th place last round, MoonCancer is afflicted with a -2% demerit this round!
31 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
alunasky-blog
Alunasky
kikidirexxx
21💕Feel Free To Tip If You Cum☺️
badartmada
Sunshine Art Place
bbqrubrecipes
Untitled
theanswerishome-blog
Where Can You Go?