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#BUT THE FUCKING. EMOTIONAL VOID I FEEL AFTER THIS
solbaby7 · 22 hours
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Feel Me
pairing: azriel x reader
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warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI
summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.
based of the request in [ part 1 ]
No one else was supposed to be home.
Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.
Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”
“Depends on how nicely you ask.”
Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”
A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”
“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.
“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”
“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”
“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.
Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”
You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”
“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”
“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.
“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”
Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”
Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”
A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.
Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?
That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.
You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”
“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.
The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”
“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”
“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”
“A poor one.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”
The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?
You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”
Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.
The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.
“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”
“Azriel—“
“How much longer should I wait?”
The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.
Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.
Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.
His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.
You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”
Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”
“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”
“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”
“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”
Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.
When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.
Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.
“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”
He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”
“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.
Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.
“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”
Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.
The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.
Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."
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alice1505 · 3 days
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I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.
• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????
• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????
• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???
• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.
• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)
• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)
• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.
There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.
Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂
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eldritchqueerture · 1 month
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🫥🫥🫥
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beansterpie · 1 month
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rewatching LoK, i'm being reminded how much I dislike the.... the brothers, mako and bolin, yanno? they're such underwhelming characters on basically every level. it'd almost be impressive if they weren't in every episode and didn't annoy me so much ugh
#bean talking into the void#also this show in general is very flawed lol#cool things about it but the choice to structure it more like a#prestige tv show#as in each season follows One Story#is... i wouldn't say it was a bad choice but i feel like you can see the growing pains#switching over from the episodic structure of ATLA#s1 while flawed is solid#it knows what it's trying to do even if it doesn't always stick the landing#season two feels like a season-long filler episode LMFAO#which is hilarious because a lot of world-building stuff happens#but tonally it's all over the place#serious political plots interspersed with the B Plot following Tenzin and his family#on vacation???#so fucking random#but anyway back to roasting the brothers#i find bolin just annoying in general his brand of comedy totally doesn't work for me#but at least he has like#a personality that's consistent#mako is sooooooo blah#the writers have no idea what to do with him and he comes across as having a strikingly boring personality#with no defining traits other than being wishy washy (and a boot licker)#it FEELS like he was meant to remind viewers of Zuko#at least in appearance if nothing else#another broody pretty boy to latch onto#but he has literally nothing interesting to actually get invested in#sure he's got his tragic backstory and he's the 'older brother who took care of his younger brother after their parents died' boo hoo#but that's all just exposition and it's barely shown in a way that feels illustrative or emotional in any way that matters#(other than him comforting bolin in s1 after he KISSES THE GIRL HE KNEW BOLIN HAD A CRUSH ON lmfaoooooo)#(what a good big brother lmfao)
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lollytea · 1 year
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She was driven mad by the truth (Clover and Emmeline love Hunter to pieces)
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opens-up-4-nobody · 10 months
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You don't understand how unhinged I feel trying to construct an ending for Bleach that I personally would enjoy while knowing Bleach does not deserve my time and also not remembering enough to actually make anything coherent. And yet here I am.
#god. no one gives a fuck abt bleaching. i am screaming into the void. y cant i put this energy into being productive#i just want there to be themes and a satisfying ending. and ending that is sad and yet happy#i just think. for me. ichigo kurosaki died on the night rukia pierced him with her zanpakto. oh fuck i cant spell. fucking strap in#i kno he didnt technically die according to the rules of the universe but i think as soon as ichigos soul left his body. that body became#a corpse. so when he goes back into it its not suitible to live in anymore and he only starts to feel that with the fullbring arc#i think when rukia jumpstarted his powers she lit the fuse of a bomb and becoming a visor allowed him to chanel his resentment#bc he does resent. ichigo is an emotional person. he felt emense guilt when his mothet died bc he felt he couldnt protect her bc he was#being raised to protect. the boy has a complex and its kinda fuckrd up and its 1000% isshins fault. so when thr opportunity comes for#ichigo to sacrifice himself for his family he does and he literally and metaphorically dies. his life from that point on is overtaken by#death. so what do we do with ichigo after everything is said and done bc he cant go back to being human he cant be a living corpse. he has#to go to the soul society. bc i like to imagine everything hes done to his soul. his twisted cosmically weird special boy soul. hes like a#bomb. its unstable and they need to teach him to control it so he doesnt tear a hole in reality and let thr hollows pour in. so its safer#if that happens in thr soul society. and rukia lil miss ice princess can teach him to do that. i would also make it weird with god stuff but#i never read the blood war stuff so i dont kno enough abt the gods. also i would make rukia more at odds with everyone who was gonna let her#fucking die and who overlooked her bc she should b held with more reguard for her fighting. but misogyny 😒 so then what do we do with#ichigo in thr soul society? i cant stand the idea of him becoming part of the institution. i cant. i think he should be rogue. rebell. idk#train to be strong and battle agaisnt the 13 court guard squad who r clearly going to try to control him as he tries to control himself.#send my boy to therapy so he can control his reatsu? is the the word? idk. maybe he should go to that dead dog district and look for kids#with spiritual pressure. he needs to feel useful. maybe id just give him weird god powers. i am an ichigo special boy apologist#thats as far forward as i can think. ichigo has to b dead. has to learn to control his power before he can go fight. rukia can teach him#he rebells against the institution. encourages rukia to go apeshit bc fuck everyone. and then idk. he keeps trying to save ppl forever#or he dies and destroys the universe. a big ball of resentment and bad feels and secrets upon secrets upon secrets. god y am i thinking#abt this so much. ive got bullshit to deal with. anyway. idk i just like ichigo a lot and i think thr ending to bleach is th worst forever#bleach ramblings
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yutadori · 1 year
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sukuna i am going to bite you im going to bite you sooooooo hard i cannot wait for nobara to come back and kill him while everyone films it and cheers and celebrates and then gojo takes the kids out to sushi <3
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belladonnafleur · 2 months
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🏠
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fairy-angel222 · 4 months
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Everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officers
—in which getting caught stealing with your boyfriend leads to three handsome officers fucking you down at the station.
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pairing: officers! gojo s, choso k, nanami k. x fem! reader
cw: smut, face fucking, hair pulling, filming, praise, size difference, belly bulge, fingering.. etc
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Your heart raced as you and Toji were stopped in your tracks by a cop car. Attempting to turn around only to be stopped by another swerving in front of you. “Shit. T-Toji? What do we do?”
Watching as a tall, broad officer emerged from the vehicle’s front seat, gulping hard when the blond one’s dark eyes met yours. His face stonic as he stood with his hands in his pockets, letting out a small breath when he looked you up and down.
“Toji?” Turning your head to see your boyfriend long gone, having jumped hurriedly over the hood of the car before sprinting away with the stolen money. You whimpered to yourself, backing up when he began to stalk towards you. Yelping as your back hit a broad chest, arms situating themselves around your waist to steady you. “Careful sweetheart.”
Glancing up through your lashes to see a white haired man looking down at you with a smirk, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you stealing for?” he hummed.
And you only looked at your feet after noticing a black haired officer speaking into his walkie talkie about a thief on the loose. Giving a detailed description of your boyfriend. The hold on your waist tightened, and you were flipped around to look up at.. a black blindfold? An idea running through your head to knee him and make a run for it.
“Don’t even think about it. I can still see you.” watching as your eyes welled with tears, your hands gripping at the hem if your shirt. “P-please don’t arrest me. I promise i’ll never do it again.” you pleaded innocently.
The man scoffed, his hand reaching up for your face, his slender fingers digging into your cheeks, “Then tell me, what’re you doing stealing huh?”
“Gojo that’s enough.” A deep voice demanded. Gojo letting go of you with the roll of his eyes. Your body immediately putting some distance between the two of you. Only to be met with the sight of the same blond officer finally making his move. His face void of emotion as his muscles bulged through his shirt. The veins on his hand extra visible when he gripped something on his belt.
Your eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, tilting his head down at you with his tone serious. “You can either cooperate, or i arrest you and bring you down to the station. Your pick.”
The third officer walked up to your shivering form before you could speak. Your body being sandwiched between the two towering men.
“Nanami sir, the male that was with her has been arrested. Although he was able to knock down three of our m-“ He stuttered when he caught sight of you, your glassy eyes practically begging him to tell his friends to let you go. “Uhm- our men sir.” He finished with the clear of his throat.
“Thanks Kamo.” Nanami nodded, looking back to you with a hard stare. “Look, kid. I don’t have all day. We already have your little boyfriend and we can easily take you.”
“Not a kid..” you mumbled. Rough hands making their way to your chin, “You’re really taking us for fools aren’t ya? Take her down to the station.” Nanami commanded, throwing the handcuffs to Choso before he was walking away, getting into the vehicle and driving off.
“Should have just been a good girl and answered me.” Gojo laughed, pushing you over to Choso who did as he was taught, pressing you onto the side of the police vehicle before cuffing your first wrist. Your body twisting and turning making him groan, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.
“W-wait! I’m sorry! I promise i’m a good girl— not a bad guy. Just please don’t arrest me.” you begged, hearing the click of the cuffs on your second wrist before you were being pushed into the back seat. Gojo looking at you through the rearview mirror. “It’s a bit too late for that don’t you think?” Allowing Choso to sit in the vehicle before speeding off. Some officer.
The whole ride was filled with your tiny sniffles as you asked to be let go in all different ways. Each one being met by a stern no which had you letting out a whine.
“You do a whole lotta talking for my liking.” Gojo sighed, “Makes me wanna fill your mouth with my cock to shut you up.” Smirking when that made you stop with panicked eyes.
When you arrived at the station. You were pulled through a hallway and past a room where you saw Toji. Anger on his face as he attempted to get up, scowling at the snickering officer when he was stopped by two pairs of handcuffs.
You were brought into another room, seeing Nanami already sitting there going through your file, his head turning to you, Gojo and Choso when he heard the slam of the door. “She’s still quiet i see.”
“She actually started talking, told her i’d make her suck my dick if she didn’t stop.” Gojo grinned, Nanami shaking his head as you were brought to sit in front of him. Gojo at your side and Choso leaned against the door.
“So.” The man started, clasping his hands on the desk with a sigh. “I see this isn’t your first time being arrested. Mind telling me why?”
You looked down at the glass top with a shrug, “i don’t know.”
Nanami motioned to Choso and Gojo with a nod. Choso closing the blinds of the stretch of glass connecting the room to the hallway. While Gojo pulled you up effortlessly, taking your place on the chair with you in his lap.
“Let’s try this again, mind telling me why?” You chewed at your lip, ignoring Gojo’s hot breath on your neck. “I did drugs, i drove while drunk when i was 15, i’ve shoplifted many times.” You listed shyly, watching as Nanami nodded along to your words.
“Nnh- ahh” you mewled when two fingers squeezed at your clit through your skirt, your thighs clenching as you shifted on the man’s lap. “God, I could do this all day.” Gojo whispered.
Nanami closed your file and slid it to the side, standing up and making his way in front of you. Stroking his thumb on your lip, “You’re really making things worse for yourself. Want to know what these records show?” He started, your eyes fixated on his body as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt.
“They show that you’ve never done anything wrong.” His thumb slipping past your lips, “Show that you’re just a naive soul who covered for her friends and boyfriend on multiple occasions.” Looking up at his eyes through your lashes. “Show that you’re a good girl who trusts too easily.” He finished, watching you whimper underneath Gojo’s touch on your clit as you sucked lightly at his thumb. Your eyes closing with a hum.
“Do you think you’re a good girl baby?”
You nodded, “A very good girl, officer.” you muffled out past his finger, the eye contact never breaking until Gojo spoke. “I think she deserves an apology, doesn’t she?”
Nanami hummed a small yes, removing his finger from your lips and replacing it with his mouth instead. Kissing you softly as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck. Keeping your head steady as you moaned into him, tongues lewdy curling around each other.
Gojo grinned widely. “The fun’s finally getting started.” His eyes falling on Choso who stood red faced in the corner, his dick noticeably hard in his pants as Gojo ushered him over. “Kamo come here.”
Your mind felt fuzzy, wetness pooling between your legs as the large hand around your neck tightened at the sides. Letting out another moan when Gojo’s hand slipped under your skirt, running his fingers along your puffy folds through your panties.
“She’s soaked already.” he announced, chuckling when you mewled at the announcement, your face beginning to heat up.
“And don’t worry that pretty little head about that boyfriend of yours. You’re not the only one he’s been-“
“Gojo..” Nanami warned, his lips still moving against yours. Your heart tightened, eyes threatening to well up with tears as your suspicions were confirmed. Choso’s hand stroked your hair, “Don’t worry about that kay? Just focus on us.”
Gojo’s fingers began rubbing small circles on your clit, tearing your panties off of you when it began getting in his way. Nanami pulled away from your lips with a small smirk, sinking down to his knees in front of you.
Placing your legs onto his shoulders before bringing his face to your dripping cunt. “Make as much noise as you’s like. No one can hear us.”
His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe up your slit. A soft moan escaped your lips when he licked another. “Tastes like fucking heaven.” Gradually increasing his pace until he was lapping at your juices, his skilled tongue feasting on your wetness while Gojo kept up his pace in your swollen clit.
Your head fell back with a mewl, bringing your hands to the blond’s hair but stopped by the metal around your skin. You whimpered, “C-cuffs.”
Gojo groaned into your neck, grinding his clothed cock up into your ass. “Nah, like you better with them on.”
You moaned, back arching against Gojo when Nanami inserted two of his thick fingers into you. Curling them in and out directly onto your spot, your mouth hanging open in a string of cries when he began fucking them into your tightness.
Your noises were cut short by an angry red tip tapping your lips, Choso lightly taking hold of your head to help you sit up. His cock nestled between your parted lips waiting for you to take him in.
“Atta boy.” Gojo mused, watching as Choso pushed his cock further past your lips, a soft gag leaving your throat as he allowed you to adjust to his length. Only half of his cock being able to fit in your snug mouth. Choso moaned, your tongue swirling around his pre cum tip as you suckled on the mushroom head. Beginning to bob your head up and down without the use of your hands to keep you steady, your tongue licking along his vein each time you came back up.
A mewl sounded at the back of your tongue, the noise sending vibrations through Choso’s cock.
Your back arched as a coil built up in your stomach, your trembling legs being held apart by strong hands as your toes curled. Your hips jerking back and forth on Gojo’s lap as the pads of Nanami’s fingers pressed into your g spot. Him holding them in position by simply moving his fingertips on and off.
You cried out loudly around the cock in your mouth, drool running past your swollen lips and down your chin, Gojo leaning to lick it off your skin. “Nnhmf—“ you muffled, your eyes closing as you neared the edge. “ ��mf closhe.”
The three men watched as your breathing sped up, unable to focus when Choso grabbed hold of your hair and manually fucked his cock down your throat. Careful enough to not hurt you.
You whimpered once more with a choked cry, your body spasming uncontrollably as you squirted onto the blond’s chin. Him groaning into you as he lapped it all up, locking his grip on your thighs when you tried to close your legs around his head.
“Oh hoho, look at her.” Gojo teased, “Can’t stop squirming, think we’re overstiming her. Are we, sweet thing?”
You nodded tearfully, Gojo kissing and biting at your neck while you sucked Choso off. His eyes met Nanami’s, both the men releasing you at the same time making you let out a shaky breath.
“We’re not done with you yet.”
Choso moaned as he neared his release, his abs tensing under his shirt and his cock twitching on your tongue. His head falling back with a loud groan before he was pulling out, fisting his cock roughly then cumming all over your pretty face. The sticky substance falling onto your now exposed chest thanks to Gojo.
Choso’s body quivered lightly as he finished spilling, his face quickly turning red again when he straightened his head to find both his colleagues smirking at him.
Gojo grinned, “Great, my turn.” standing up with you against him, kicking back the chair before bending you over, ready to line his aching cock up with your sopping pussy.
You whimpered when he roughly spread your legs with his knee, your hands still cuffed securely behind your back as your face met cold glass.
Gojo cursed as he eased himself into you. “So fucking tight, shit.” he groaned, fucking sloppily into your pussy with no mercy. His painfully hard cock begging for a release ever since he sat you on his lap.
Gojo’s hand reached up in your hair, pulling you up against him as he slammed into you. Your back arching against his chest with a loud mewl. Gojo watched as your ass bounced with each hit of his hips, your head thrown back onto his chest as you filled the room with high pitched moans.
Your pussy clenched when he brought his hand to your tits, fumbling and groping at the soft flesh before twisting your nipples between your fingers. Pulling out a cry from you at the sensation. Gojo’s pace never slowed its abuse to your tightness. Bullying his cock deeper inside you with a string of grunts.
The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your loud cries mixed with Gojo’s grunts as he tugged at both your nipples and your hair. You could feel his tip grazing into your walls with each of his harsh thrusts onto your ass.
Your breaths getting heavy as you neared yet another orgasm. “Nn—nnhg, f-fuckk.”
“Language.”
You trembled with a scream of pleasure, clenching down on the white haired man’s cock as he breathed into your neck with deep throaty moans.
You let out whimper after whimper, your legs feeling like jelly as your knees buckled. “Hahhh— nng, close. Ah- ‘m close.” feeling the pressure on your gummy spot intensifying greatly. “A-ahh— nnh, cumming,” you mewled, lips parted in whiny noises as you came.
Gojo groaned, “Shit- clenching down so hard on me. Gonna break my fucking cock sweetheart.” his thrusts lacking any rhythm as he too neared his orgasm. “Come on, fuck, give it to me.” he rasped.
Your eyes rolling back as you gripped onto his shirt through your handcuffs. Your short moans matching his thrusts as your pussy gushed messily around him.
“That’s it.” he dragged out, slowing his thrusts until he was pulling out of your drenched cunt. Pushing you down onto your knees by your shoulders, “open.” Stroking his cock lightly when you obeyed and spilling onto your awaiting tongue while watching you swallow. “Good girl.” as he steadied his breathing. “She’s all yours,” he said to Nanami.
Your eyes moving behind the tall man to find Nanami sat on a chair with his cock in hand stroking to the sight. And Choso leaned onto the gray walls with his shirt in between his teeth as he did the same as Nanami.
“Come here.” Nanami husked. And you stood on shaky legs to waddle over to him. Your eyes widening at his massive cock, its girth the size of your wrist and its length the same as your forearm. Noticing your hesitation, Nanami chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
His hands found their way onto your hips as he guided you over his lap. A scared whimper falling past your lips when he lined you up with his rock hardness.
“Look at me. You can take it okay? Just be a good girl and relax.”
You sucked in a deep breath and nodded, wincing loudly as he sunk you down onto his cock. Your pussy aching at the stretch to let him in. “Ahh-“ you cried, small tears escaping your eyes as he bottomed you down onto him. Feeling his tip poking against the skin of your stomach.
“Holy shit.” Gojo whistled, “She’s fucking bulging.”
You mewled, looking down to see the outline of Nanami’s tip in your belly. The large man simply glaring at his colleague who only smirked.
Large hands held onto your ass, whispering soothing praises into your ear as he helped you grind up and down with the rocking of your hips. You began moaning as the pain slowly subsided. Pleasure filling your veins as Nanami made you ride him faster bit by bit. Feeling the veins of his cock grazing your sensitive walls with each movement.
You let out a string of loud cries, your hips arching when Nanami landed a slap to your skin. “You’re a real good girl, you know that? Obeying the men of the law. You’re a perfect one.” He groaned.
Gojo sat on the table behind you, his camera zoomed into the stretch of your pussy from the back. Nanami unknowingly spreading your cheeks to give off an even better view.
Choso’s cock prodded at your lips, his precum smearing onto your lips.
“Kamo. Don’t wanna save that for her pussy?” Gojo questioned, Choso shaking his head no with a desperate moan. “Uh uh, love her mouth too much.” Your lips parting to suck him into your throat with a hum.
Choso groaned, thrusting lightly into your mouth, his length throbbing when your tongue suckled at his tip. Nanami quickened your pace of rutting on his cock. Your noises drowned out by the youngest officer’s cock.
Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter. Creamy white covering his cock from top to bottom. Your pussy creaming his length with your clit being stimulated by its rubbing on the region near his base.
Gojo made sure to capture it all. Choso fucking into your throat and you milking Nanami’s cock. With mic picking up Choso’s moans and Nanami’s deep grunts.
Your body trembled, body filled with heat as you came undone. Whimpers bubbling in your throat and your eyes rolling back. The sound of your cuffs shaking entering your ears when your fists gripped literal air.
“Come on.” Nanami groaned, “Cum for us.”
You let out a silent breathy cry, your pussy spraying its cream filled liquid onto the man’s thighs and pants.
Choso followed not too long after you, finding it in him to force you to take all of him into your mouth with a gag before pumping his cum straight down your throat. Some of his cum spilling messily at the sides of your lips when he removed himself from the warmth.
Nanami rolled you onto him a few more times, his cock twitching within the depths of your cunt before effortlessly lifting you off of him and settling you closer to his knees. Giving his large cock a wrist circling stroke before his cock was releasing spurts of cum into the air and onto your tits and stomach with a dragged out groan.
The three of you panted, Gojo setting down his phone after saving the video to his eyes only then walking over to you with a key to remove your handcuffs. You fell forward as your body went limp, your palms feeling Nanami’s hard chest under his work shirt as you stabilized yourself.
The white haired man pressed a short kiss to your head. “Did so well.”
After helping you get cleaned up, the trio walked you out of the room. A slight limp in your step as you were brought into the main room. There you spotted Toji, who practically charged towards you. Slapping Choso’s hand off your waist and pulling you into his side. “Don’t touch my girl.”
Choso only walked away before giving you a look. And you sucked in a deep breath before you spoke, “Toji-“
“Before you say what you have to say baby, they charged us for robbery.” Kissing you softly on the same spot Gojo did. “Got any money to get us out of this.”
Just as you were about to speak, a voice echoed through the room. “Y/n L/n? You’re free to go.”
You gave Toji a tight lipped smile while scratching at your arm. “Sorry Toji.. i don’t have any. And since i didn’t do anything wrong i don’t see why i should be kept either.”
Toji looked at you in disbelief. A smirk eventually gracing his face. “Didn’t think you had that in ya.” Watching as you were escorted out by a blond officer who didn’t even spare him a glance.
He would have to use his one call on one of his recent flings to pay the fine.
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blughxreader · 11 months
Text
Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara
cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.
Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.
This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.
I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.
While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.
Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.
Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.
You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.
His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.
However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.
Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.
His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.
God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.
He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.
It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.
Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?
You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.
He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.
While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.
He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.
Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.
He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.
Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.
Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.
But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.
Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.
---
When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.
His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.
With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.
Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.
"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."
He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.
Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."
He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.
Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.
You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.
Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.
He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.
He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.
A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.
"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."
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milo-is-rambling · 2 years
Text
Yeah okay maybe I am still upset about one of my (dedicated to...)people ,,, I'm listening to the playlist I made for him when I sent him a penpal letter while sitting in the bottom of the bathtub staring at the ceiling and thinking about all the ways he hurt my feelings and why I should be okay with never talking to him again, and yet here I am missing him and thinking about his lips and his hands and I'm probably just starved of intimacy/physical affection and he was willing to fuck me + give me half assed attention but I am sad nonetheless
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
Text
wakanda
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, sex in Bucky's hut, he has one arm, woman on top, unprotected sex, dirty talk, insecurity.
Author's note: posting my old fic, while I'm working on that tattoo artist x bookshop owner one👀 If any of you have smut ideas (with some kinks maybe), feel free to write your requests
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You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. Unfortunately, Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky, so you weren’t allowed to see him.
The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.
At first, you had to visit Shuri and TChalla to talk through some moments, and that whole time you were bubbling with nerves and anticipation to finally see Bucky. 
You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face in your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, not to mention that he looked fantastic. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.
You two rushed to his hut with the food you had bought from a local cafe owned by a kind old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill. 
Bucky talked about his goats and the way he felt better living in Wakanda, while you unconsciously moved closer to him, needing to fill the void that formed while you couldn’t see him. Bucky just stopped in the middle of the sentence, as if he realized that you were too close, looking at him with your big, pretty eyes. 
Food was forgotten. Somehow, you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and hot kiss you had ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to keep you close.
“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth; your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss. Bucky couldn’t get enough of your taste; he bit your lip, then licked it with his tongue to calm down the delicate skin.
It felt so natural, like it was meant to happen a long time ago, and now you could not keep all of your emotions inside.
Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts. 
When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and feeling of his lips on yours.
“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.
“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.
“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m so sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink blush on his cheeks.
"I want it, Bucky; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?" He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to express your unsaid feelings. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.
You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.
“Okay.” 
You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan.
“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. 
“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.
“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort. 
“Just leave it on, okay?” 
“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?” 
“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.
“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked stunning with his slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and lustful and needy eyes. And he was completely yours, fuck.
“Yes, please.” 
You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time. 
“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.
You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes. 
“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.
“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.” 
“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however and wherever you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”
“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Shit–  how are you so soft…” Bucky's hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and reaching for your sensitive nipples. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he did at that moment—to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.
“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.
“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?” 
“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just—fuck!” 
“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.
“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching behind you, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky placed his hand on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside.
It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.
Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.
“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, and you were not able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.
“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”
“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers. 
You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside. 
Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face. 
“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.
“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.
It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, as well as skin slapping against skin. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end. 
Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, drawing you in for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body. 
You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.
“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm. 
“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? Will you let me feel you up?” 
Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit. 
That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.
“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me; ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 
You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.
“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body. 
“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him. 
You weren't sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.” 
part 2
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harryslittlefreakk · 2 months
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obsessed
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summary: harry is your roommate, best friend … and crush 💃 he’s finally broken up with his girlfriend and you’re struggling to hide how you feel about him. loosely based on the song!!
warnings: none! fluffy fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, mentions nudity
wordcount: 2.7k
a/n: i am a loud & proud olivia rodrigo stan sooo naturally i had to write something. it’s silly and cheesy and short! but i hope you enjoy!!
you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here!! happy reading my loves 💖
“Guess who I saw today?”
“Who?” You didn’t even need to look up from your book to know Harry was about to throw himself down on the end of your bed, his coat and shoes still on. Every time you got home before him he’d bound into your room like a little labrador, too excited to see you to even drop his stuff down first.
“No, you have to guess.”
“Could’ve been anyone, H,” you told him, feigning reluctance as you closed your book and looked up at him. The second you heard his key rattling in the door you’d wait for the sound of your door bursting open, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life. But you’d never let him know that, so every day you’d pretend it was an annoyance to have him perched at your feet.
“Think of someone you really don’t like,” he persisted, a toothy grin nestled between his dimpled cheeks.
“Literally could be anyone.”
“Come on! Blonde hair, tall, pretty…”
Of fucking course. His stupid, evil, awful ex girlfriend. And naturally, the only way you could react to hearing about her was to reach over and shove him before crossing your arms over your chest. “Ow! What was that for?” Harry laughed, rubbing at his upper arm.
“I was having such a nice day. And then you have to come in and mention that.” It was massively childish, but you couldn’t help but feel violent every time you heard about her. She was fine for the most part, maybe a little too conceited for your taste, but she’d made Harry happy. But you’d watched from the outside as Harry went through relationships, and he always morphed into whatever version of himself he thought the girl would prefer. He stopped being your Harry, and your friendship would suffer for it. But you couldn’t say anything, could never treat his girlfriends with anything but a polite smile and quick conversation, unless you wanted to out yourself as a jealous little girl. And you definitely didn’t want to do that.
This time, however, the ability to hate her had been handed to you on a silver platter when she decided to go home with one of Harry’s friends on a night out. You were his shoulder to cry on, the one to make him smile again after days of moping around. So you had full permission to hate her, and you were relishing in it - as much as you could while still tiptoeing around Harry’s aching heart.
“She wants to meet for a coffee this week,” he told you, scrunching his eyes tight as he waited for another shove. When nothing came, he squinted over to see you rubbing at your temples. “Are you gonna?” you asked, brows furrowed as you imagined the two of them back together.
“Am I allowed?” Harry teased, turning round to lay on top of you, his face only inches from yours. “You’re a grown man, H. Couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to,” you told him, your voice void of any emotion.
“Dunno if it’s a good idea. She might find me too irresistible and then I’ll have to deal with that,” he grinned, not noticing the change in your face. You looked down as you felt your lip start to quiver, too proud to show how your heart sank. “I need to shower, H. Dinner after?” you asked, slipping out from under him and dragging your heavy limbs towards the door. He looked over at you with round, questioning eyes, only to be met by silence and a weak smile as you headed for the bathroom.
You barely got the door shut behind you before the tears came, hot and heavy drops rolling down your cheeks. You knew you couldn’t have Harry, but every minute spent with him had your heart breaking over and over again. Every little cuddle, every touch, lit you up with a fire that burned to the bones. But then you’d see the way he acts with a girlfriend, the way he loved someone, and all those moments you shared seemed silly and infantile. He was your best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as the sobs wracked your body. You’d tried so hard to push away the feelings, to convince yourself that you were just confused and overwhelmed. He’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend, echoing around your mind. But deep down, you knew that no one could ever compare to Harry. He was yours, the only one to ever steal a piece of your heart.
“Y/n? M’coming in.” You froze as Harry’s voice came from the other side of the door, clamping a hand over your mouth to hold the sobs in. “I’m naked,” you called out, scrambling to your feet and wiping away your tears with your sleeve. But he opened the door anyway, stopping in the doorway when he saw your tear-stained face. “Didn’t even turn the shower on yet,” he muttered, glancing over at it.
“Why’re you crying?”
“M’not,” you whispered, choking out a giant sob as you turned your face away from Harry, sinking down onto the edge of the bath.
“Quite clearly are. Move,” he ordered, swatting you away before reaching to turn on the taps.
“What are you-”
“If you’re sad, I’m sad. And I like having a bath when I’m sad,” Harry shrugged, turning around to grab one of your bath bombs.
“I was gonna shower, you can’t-”, between the sobs, your confusion and the need for Harry not to know why you were crying, you could barely string a sentence together.
And when Harry pulled off his t-shirt, you were even more lost for words, left with your mouth gaping and only air coming out. “Joining me?” he asked, tipping too much bubble bath into the steamy water - something you’d have to scold him for later.
“I’m not getting in with you,” you told him, once you’d finally got a grip on your brain.
“Just get under the bubbles. And you can close your eyes when I get in.”
“No way.” You hugged your arms over your chest, drawing your swollen bottom lip into your mouth as you watched a shirtless Harry mix the bubble bath into the water. The way his muscles flexed, the tattoos littered across his tanned, slender frame. His skin always looked perfect, not Barbie doll smooth but irresistibly soft. Your fingers took on a mind of their own, slowly reaching out to touch him before he turned around with a smug grin. “Fine, go away then while I have my nice relaxing bath.”
“I want a bath,” you whispered, barely audible over the running water splashing into the tub. “What was that, angel?” Harry grinned, moving his towel onto the toilet seat. “I want a bath,” you told him, louder now, a tiny smile dancing on your lips.
Harry grabbed a hold of one of your hands, tugging you closer to the bathtub. He turned you around before pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaving you in just your little pyjama shorts. Just the brush of his fingertips against your bare torso sent chills down your spine. “M’not looking. Tell me when you’re in,” Harry told you, dropping your t-shirt to his feet.
You pushed your pyjama shorts and panties down your legs, checking behind you to see if Harry really wasn’t watching. True to his word, he had his eyes scrunched tight and his hand clenched over them. You’d seen each other in bathing suits and underwear so many times before, but being naked in the same room as Harry felt beyond weird. You’d never been overly shy about your body, especially with someone who made you feel as pretty and as comfortable as Harry did, but this would add a whole new layer to your friendship - and you didn’t know if you’d survive it. Still, you sunk into the bathtub and pulled the mass of bubbles to your end, trying to keep your breasts under the water before you told Harry he can look. “It’s really hard to make bubbles stay put, H,” you told him, screwing up your face as you tried to hold them steady.
He was laughing as he pulled his trousers and socks off, great big guffaws tumbling out every time the bubbles tried to escape your grip. “Want me to turn the lights down a bit? Then it’s harder to see,” he shrugged, nodding towards the light switch. You nodded, grateful that he cared enough to make sure you were 100% comfortable. It was one of the things that first drew you to Harry, and definitely what you valued most about him. He was always so kind, always caring, so willing to put anyone’s needs above his own - and that’s why relationships always changed him.
“Close your eyes then,” he said, mockingly holding two hands in front of his bulge. You rolled your eyes, finally starting to lighten up as the hot water washed over you. When Harry reached out to swat at your nose, you closed your eyes tight. You felt him stepping into the bathtub after a minute, his long legs slotting down your left-hand side.
“Hi,” he smiled when you opened your eyes. “Gonna tell me what upset you now?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” you told him, your voice small.
“It is if it made you that upset,” Harry countered, placing a gentle hand on your calf, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin.
You paused for a moment, trying to think of what you wanted to say and how to say it. “It just- she doesn’t deserve you, H. Anyone who hurts you like that doesn’t deserve any of your time and respect.” Your eyes dropped to the water as you spoke, your body frozen. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but as soon as he did, you needed to say more. “You were really sad, Harry. It sucked for you and it sucked for me too because I don’t like seeing you like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that, but I can’t just sit and wait for her to hurt you like that again. Not when you know she’s capable of it.”
You watched the smaller bubbles popping one by one by one, suddenly anxious in the silence that followed your speech. You hated going against Harry, putting your two cents into something that really didn’t concern you, but sometimes he needed to hear it.
“I know,” he replied finally. “But do you think that because you don’t like her?”
“Harry, no! I don’t like her because she did that to you.”
“You were never her biggest fan,” he shrugged, his brows knitted when you finally pulled your eyes up to meet his.
“She changed you, H. You were different with her, less you. Everything is so surface level with her, it’s looks and Instagram likes and who’s got trouble with who. There’s no substance, nothing deeper.”
Harry’s thumb halted as he shook his head, his jaw clenching slightly. “It doesn’t always have to be deeper,” he sighed, rubbing at his chin with his free hand.
“I know it’s not my place but you need someone who brings out the best in you, you need-”
A bitter laugh from Harry stopped you in your tracks, your mouth snapping closed as a chuckle slipped out of his. He met your questioning gaze with a tiny smirk. “She always used to say you were jealous of her.”
You could feel the tears collect on your bottom eyelashes again as he said it, the words stinging like barbed wire sinking into your skin. How could you even respond? “Harry-” was all you could manage before your mouth ran dry.
“I don’t wanna fight with you, y/n,” he told you, his voice soft as he reached out for your hand. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging at your fingertips. “I’m- we-” you started, gesturing between your bare bodies with your free hand, eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Doesn’t matter,” Harry said, motioning for you to turn around.
Somewhat reluctantly, you did, leaning back into his body until your back hit your chest. You were exposed in every sense, your chest sitting just above the waterline and your heart on your sleeve. Harry wrapped an arm around your torso, his delicate touch careful not to go anywhere it shouldn’t.
“Truth is I probably need someone like you. Only one to make me happy on a shitty day, only one who gives me any effort,” he murmured, his voice so low that if he wasn’t speaking directly into your ear, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your heart quickened as he spoke, your pulse pounding against your inner wrists. “I’m not- I don’t have anything that she-” you choked out.
“S’a good thing, no?” Harry asked, turning his head just slightly until his lips brushed tentatively against your earlobe. “No, Harry. You need more, you need-”
“You,” he finished for you. “Just say the word and I’m yours, angel.”
It was like someone had handed you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out and take it. But it wasn’t that easy. If anything went south, you risked losing Harry forever. You shuffled back out of his grip, turning to sit in front of him, perched on your knees. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about him seeing your body, your words willing themselves from your lips. “If anything went wrong Harry, I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, blinking to keep the tears at bay.
“What would go wrong? We know we get along, we have the same traits and the same values. We’re already doing life together,” he reached out a hand to cup your cheek as he spoke, his eyes laced with nothing but earnestness.
“I don’t want to be your consolation prize.”
“Never. Never ever, I swear. I thought about it for a while but it never really clicked until now.”
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Harry spoke, desperately needing to figure out if it was all a dream. The sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice, the gentle heat of the water – it all felt too real to be a dream. But a part of you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was too perfect, too surreal to be true. You hesitated, unsure if you should dare to believe in the fairytale unfolding between the two of you.
As if he could see the cogs turning in your head, Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, entwining your fingers in yours instead. He squeezed lightly, the corners of his lips turning up into a little smile. "I'm here, y/n," he whispered. "This is real, promise." His words were a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to consume you. Even if it was a dream, it was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.
“It’s all I ever wanted,” you confessed, allowing yourself to give into the fantasy for at least a little while. You fought the urge to search for the hidden cameras, check the date to make sure it wasn’t an April Fools prank. Harry was a goof, but you were a thousand percent sure he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that.
“Just say the word,” he repeated, his husky voice laced with sincerity and longing.
“I want this,” you whispered, clutching onto Harry’s hand as if you could fall off the Earth at any minute. His face erupted into a grin so cheesy that you couldn’t help but mirror it, eyes locked onto his as he closed the distance between the two of you.
Harry’s lips met yours softly, as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you melted into him, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs by the urgency and desire behind his soft movements. He pulled away after a minute, his forehead pressed to yours as he searched your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. Although all Harry was met with was a sparkle in your gaze, and a further few pecks landing on his lips. “Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands splaying across your back. “Should’ve done it before you got me naked,” you teased, succumbing once again to his kiss.
rrrr i really don’t know how i feel about this but i wanted to get something out
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7
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readychilledwine · 3 months
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span it into March, Liz. Make us cry instead
You asked for it.
Pieces of You Pt 1
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Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected
Warnings - depression, self destructive behavior, babies, grieving, loss of motivation in life, Rhys feels his spark is gone, we haven't seen into readers headspace yet
Prologue
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Rhys had not left his bed in 7 days. He had not changed. He had not bathed. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes as a permanent reminder of the lack of sleep he allowed himself.
It took one week. One week for him to feel the light Feyre lit in his soul to go out. One week for him to feel the last of his spark die. One week of tugging nothing but an aching empty void. Rhys saw no joy in life anymore, just burden and heartache.
Cassian entered the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. It had been like this the whole time. Each day, a different member of the Inner Circle would come to his newly claimed room. They'd try to tell him about his son, try to force him to eat, to drink something other than another bottle of whiskey or wine. They all would leave when they realized he wouldn't budge, and that's how Rhys wanted it to be right now. He wanted to be alone. To drown himself in self hatred, in guilt, in anger, in the depths of sadness he had never felt before. “She's asking when you're going to come see him. She's concerned you aren't bonding with him and-”
“Tell her I just lost my fucking mate and I will see him when I'm ready to.” Rhys growled out every letter, glaring at Cassian. “She's fully fucking capable of caring for both of them.”
Cassian's shoulders fell. “Rhys, she just lost her mate, too, remember? The so-called accident in the port? The one we are fairly sure Beron and Koschei planned? He was one of the males killed.”
A moment of sympathy crossed through Rhysand's face before his own grieve ate through the emotion completely. “She was one of Feyre's friends, Rhys. Trust me. She's mourning as hard as we all are as well as mourning her mate, and trying to process it all while caring for two newborns in her home unexpectedly.”
Rhys rolled away from him, indicated he was done, and Cassian sighed, looking down towards his feet. “She's keeping Nyx alive, selflessly, Rhys. Our last physical piece of Feyre. At least consider going and seeing him.”
-
Members of the Inner Circle had all but moved into your cottage.
You had gone from just you and Wen to you, Wen, Nyx, and which ever member or members arrived to take care of you that day.
Today, Lady Death stood at your door with Cassian. They were holding baby supplies, food for lunch, and clothes for both of the babies. Nesta was a shell, moving into the home in silence and setting things down as if time was moving at a slower pace for her.
Cassian tucked your messy hair behind your ear. “I asked him to come see Nyx.”
Your eyes lit up, hope for the little heir shining in them. “And?” Cassian just shook his head, eyes beginning to water as he did.
“Is he asleep?” You nodded at the question. “And Little Mor?” You nodded again.
“I fed them both about 20 minutes ago.”
“Go do something for you,” Nesta's voice was lifeless. “We will make lunch. Azriel will be here soon.”
Azriel had become a constant companion. As soon as he realized Rhys had no interest in seeing Nyx, he had been here, standing in where a father should be. Doing whatever you needed, whatever the babies needed. Even though he was there for Nyx, he still treated “Little Mor," as the Inner Circle had all named your daughter, like he was here for her too.
You moved into your bathroom, looking at the now lukewarm bath you had drawn for yourself. It would be fine. You'd be quick. Then you would be ready to go be super mom and nanny again.
-
Azriel froze when he saw Rhys dressed in casual clothing, waiting for him at the door. He had lunch for the High Lord, hoping he'd be able to make him eat before leaving to be with you and his favorite babies. A shadow curled his ear, whispering how Rhys wanted to go see his son. How he needed to meet you officially. How he was struggling to set aside his own needs. How he was a scared lamb where a lion once stood, ready to run the second things became too difficult.
Azriel held a hand out, reaching for Rhys like the brothers had reached for each other so many times before. He waited, smiling softly at Rhys as a shaking hand placed itself in his and he walked them through the shadows before Rhys could change his mind.
-
Struggling flowers in pots sat outside of the cottage, wilting slightly from the lack of time and care put into them. A blue door sat on silver hinges, greeting them brightly. Mocking Rhysand's sadness with its cheerful presence.
You were an artist, Rhys knew that much. Where Feyre loved to paint, you used charcoal to express yourself. He also knew the two of you were fast friends, constantly having lunch together, shopping together, giggling.
You had been all Feyre spoke of when she met you 4 months ago. Her first true friend with no ties to a lover, to the inner circle, to obligations. You chose her, and she relished in every moment of your love, and from what Rhys understood, you relished in hers.
Rhys had a piece of your artwork. You had sketched out Feyre, mind and hands deep in paint, glowing towards the tail end of her pregnancy as she worked on painting Nesta rising from the Lake as Lady Death.
You had an impeccable eye for details and for making emotions readable through lines. You were a true gem to the Rainbow. A valued member of Velaris. He knew your name long before Feyre had mentioned you, but now, you were irreplaceable.
To him, to Nyx, to the Inner Circle.
They owed you. Rhys owned you. The very least he could do was drag himself out of a bed, throw on clothing, and come see his son. Rhys shook as his hand reached to knock, before scarred ones gently lowered His and twisted the knob.
“We don't knock. We just enter. No loud noises, okay?" Azriel opened the door, nodding to where Nesta sat with her hands on her hand, and Cassian was making lunch. “They must be sleeping?”
Cass nodded not turning his back to face them yet. “Little Mor and Nyx just fell asleep 25 minutes go. Y/n is Bathing in cold water because Mother forbid that female takes a moment for herself-”
As if on cue, as if sensing Rhysand's presence, a piercing cry broke through the house, and they heard a door open and then another. Azriel pulled Rhys with him to the nursery where Nyx and Morwenna slept during the day. "That cry was Nyx," Azriel said softly. "He struggles during naptime. Little Mor has a more rattle cry."
Long hair dripped water onto the wooden floorboards as a small winged figure rested his head on a bare shoulder. “I know, sweetheart,” you bounced him so softly, soothing him back to sleep. “I know you're lonely. It's okay. We can cuddle, I don't mind.” A deep huff left his mouth as he settled in, basking in the contact you were offering him.
Rhys moved like a ghost to the second bassinet where a sweet girl slept, happy and content for what he hoped was a few more moments.
The two of them could have been twins. Same dark hair, similar noses, similar lips set in a forever baby pout.
Aside from gender, there were only two glaring details sitting on Nyx's back that were the tell-tale sign of their different parents. Two glaring details that killed his mate, his wife. “And your son's mother,” a soft feminine voice whispered. “She was his mother, too, High Lord. He is missing her just as much as you are.”
Azriel looked to Rhys, calling for him in his mind. Daemati. Check your shields.
"His shields are fine. He's just screaming his thoughts like they're going to manifest into life if he does."
A deep voice finally answered, void of all emotion. “I don't think he misses her half as much as I do, my lady,” Rhys continued to look at Morwenna. A picture-perfect babe who caused you no harm.
“Little Mor,” Azriel said as he stroked her tuff of dark hair. "This is Morwenna, but we call her Little Mor.” Azriel then moved to Nyx, a ghost of a smile as his lips quickly trembled before he masked it. “You should hold him, Rhys. He might remember your voice.”
“It would be good for both of you,” you whispered. “He needs you. Look into his little mind and then Wen’s,” a pointed look to Azriel allowed Rhys to finally see you.
Tired eyes, features pale from exhaustion, a small smile that didn't reach your eyes. Your beautiful eyes. You were stunning, even by high fae standards, Rhys knew that, but he could hardly appreciate it the way he once had. There was no more beauty in his world. No more light. Feyre had taken it all with her.
“High Lord, please, holding him. Even just for a second.” You moved to Rhys, standing before him, offering so much more than just his son. “He needs you, and you need him. Just open your eyes and see that.”
Rhys held out shaking hands, taking his son in his arms for the first time, holding him for the first time. Bright blue eyes looked up at him, laced with sleep and confusion, before snuggling so closely into his chest that Rhysand felt something stir again. You moved him to the chair, forcing him to sit and handing him tissues as the tears began to fall.
He looked up to where you had grabbed your daughter before she could start crying, soothing her as well. He listened to the soft whispers of your voice, he watched you care for her no differently than you had Nyx, treating them like they were both your own.
It explained the little heir's health, the rolls beginning to form on his little body, the rosy cheeks. You loved him like he was yours, and he loved you.
Rhys looked back down, and as he stared at Nyx, watching each little movement of his chest, feeling his warmth, his happy thoughts and dreams of his and Feyre's voices, of you singing to him and rocking him to sleep. Looking at his son, Rhys realized that maybe, just maybe, there was still some light left in this world. He felt for the first time in a week that maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to live for.
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tayswhp
Rhys taglist:
@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads
Pieces of You Taglist:
@dr4g0ngirl @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @novalovi @rachelnicolee @sleepylunarwolf @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @bunnyredgirl @fandomrejects
If your username is in bold, tumblr is not allowing me to tag you. Hopefully it will fix here soon, though!
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inlovewithobsession · 2 years
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salty femcel rant
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norrisleclercf1 · 10 months
Note
Hello
I love all your writing you’re just so good and I’m always excited to read anything you write. I was wondering if you would do more for the our boy series with Charles and lando because it’s just so good, one of the best fics I’ve read. Ofc only If you won’t to write more for it up to you. 💕💕
Disappearing Act
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
A/N: We need this after yesterday's race. For the Charles girlies to celebrate and the Lando girlies we got humbled hard
Cécile is 6 years old in this, tamia means chipmunk
Our Boy Masterlist
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"Papa?" A tiny tug of his race suit has Charles looking down. He didn't even know she was awake yet, much less she found her way to the garage.
"Cécile? My sweet little tamia. What are you doing here? Where is Grand'Mere?" Charles frantically looking around for his mother. She was the one to watch Cécile, and she was nowhere in sight. "Talking to Uncle Zio." She tugs her bunny close to her chest.
"Talking to Uncle Lorenzo? How did you find me? Mother must be freaking out." Bending down, he lifts her tiny body with ease, instantly she snuggles deeper into her Papa's chest. "Dunno know." She yawns, the last edges of her nap evident.
"Papa? Where's Daddy?" He sighs, she was such a daddy's girl. Elijah was attached to his hip, but Cécile was always attached to Lando's. "I don't know, but let's go find Grand'Mere first yes?" Bouncing her, she lets out her little ring of a giggle.
"Oh! God Charles, you found her!" Pascale and Lorenzo both rushing them, walking up to the Ferrari hospitality. "Fuck, man she was asleep on the couch when we turned she was gone. We're sorry." Lorenzo rapid fires apologies.
Charles doesn't say anything, he wants to be furious at his mother and brother. But, he couldn't really blame them. Cécile was known to wander, but the fact that this happened at a race weekend. Anyone could've taken her.
"Did you tell Lando?" Charles voice soft, refusing to be angry in front of his daughter. "Yeah, we told one of the mechanics who went straight to him." Pascale sighs, knowing Lando must be going crazy.
"Charles! Have you found Cécile? She's missing!" Lando's terrified voice breaks through the crowd people look, but quickly forget about it carrying on with their day. "Daddy!" Cécile squeals, lifting her head hearing her Daddy's voice.
"Cécile! Bunny, are you okay?" Lando hugs both Charles and his daughter, holding them close. When the mechanic told him that his little girl was missing in the Paddock, terror gripped his chest so tight he was forced to sit down to breath.
"She's fine, Lando." Charles freeing an arm, wrapping it around his shaking partner. "Tamia found me, she's okay." Charles whispers trying to calm Lando down. "Scared me." He whispers, so Cécile doesn't hear.
"Daddy, you're squishing me." Cécile whines, moving around so much. Lando pulls away, but still stands very close. "Lando, honey we're so sorry. She just, disappeared." Pascale feeling terrible that this has happened.
"It's okay, Pascale. She's been doing that often. Just at home, first time in public. Nothing is wrong and she doesn't seem hurt." Lando's eyes red, Charles handing over their daughter to him knowing he needed to hold her, to fully calm him down.
"Mama, can you go get her bag that Y/n packed? She's going to join us in the garage." Pascale nods, Lorenzo joining her as they go inside to gather her stuff.
"Daddy?" Cécile, pushes hair out of her face, big eyes looking up at her Daddy's face. "Yes, bunny? Are you hurt? Did someone touch you?" Lando starts to freak out again, Charles laying a hand on his neck rubbing it. "Guess what I saw?" Charles bites his bottom lip watching Lando deflate hearing those words.
"What did you see bunny?" Lando leaning into Charles's hand. "Uncle Lewis." She whispers, a blush gathering on her cheeks. Charles loses it then, Lando's face void of emotion his partner laughing his ass off. "Did you now?" His voice monotone.
His little girl gave him a heart attack, and she's here blushing over Lewis? Yeah, she was going to kill him.
"Oh, tamia that was wonderful." Charles kissing her on the cheeks, she giggles pulling her bunny close. "Papa, I want ice cream." It was these moments they knew she was yours through and through.
Anything she asked for, the two of them are running over their feet trying to get it. "Of course, tamia. We can get ice cream." Lando sets her down, Charles and Lando grabbing her little hands. Charles in charge of carrying Lewlew her bunny.
"Here is her bag." Pascale sliding it onto Charles shoulder, kissing his cheek. "Call Y/n, tell her what happened. She'll want to know, but also she can punish her better than we can." Charles admits, Lorenzo shaking his head at his pathetic brother. "I will."
"Papa! Come on, ice cream." Cécile whining as she stomps her foot. "Cécile Hazel, don't you dare get an attitude." Lando's voice sharp, causing the youngest Norris-Leclerc to apologize. "It's okay, I was taking a while wasn't I?" Charles smiles as the 3 well technically 4 of them walk down the paddock.
Approaching a booth that has ice cream, Cécile asks Charles to lift her up so she can see all her choices. "Papa? I don't know what to get." Her eyes wide with uncertainty. He smiles, for 6 years old he was glad her hardest choice in life was which ice cream she wanted.
"Can we get vanilla, strawberry and cookies?" Lando stepping in, the vendor nods as he makes 3 cones of the ice cream. "Here, bunny." Lando handing her the small cone of cookie ice cream. "Thanks Daddy." Cécile licking her ice cream she looks around the place.
Her eyes widen when she sees a certain someone. "Papa, Papa, Papaaaaa." She whines yanking on the sleeves of his race suit. Charles turns, looking down at his baby. "Look, it's Uncle Bas." Charles's head snaps up seeing Sebastian Vettel.
"It is Uncle Bas, why don't you go say hello." Cécile nods, shoving her ice cream into Lando's hand who almost drops it as a flurry of curls and blue dress goes running. "Uncle Bas!" Sebastian whirls around, immediately dropping down to let the little girl run into his arms.
"Cécile, my little spitfire. Are you causing trouble?" Sebastian laughs, standing up with her in his arms. "Yes." She beams, Sebastian unable to stop the laugh that breaks free at her brutal honesty. "You are causing trouble? You shouldn't do that to your Papa and Daddy." Her face falls, hating whenever the older men in her life told her she wasn't being good.
"She bolted from my mother, missing for about 30 minutes before she found me in the garage." Charles's voice has Sebastian smiling bright at the young man he sees as a son. "Then she's definitely Y/n and your daughter." Sebastian smiles, putting the girl back down.
She holds her hand out, pushing out her bottom lip. Lando hands her, her ice cream bringing back that dazzling smile. "Whipped." Seb whispers nodding to Lando. "I can't say anything, she's got me too." Seb watches the love and pride swell in Charles's eyes and face.
"You listened to my message." Charles turns, confused. "What I wrote on my helmet that I gave you. You listened." Seb patting Charles on the back, pulling him in. "Good." Charles blushes, still always in awe whenever he's around Sebastian.
"Cécile Hazel Norris-Leclerc!" Everyone in the small group freeze hearing the full name of their daughter. "Uhoh. Mama is mad." Cécile whispers, seeing her older brother Elijah and mother make their way towards them. "You ran away from your Grand'Mere and gave your Daddy a scare! Do you have any idea what you have done? And you two reward her with ice cream?" You yell, Elijah snickers slipping over to Sebastians side.
The 10 year old watches on amused that for once his angel baby sister was getting in trouble. "Keep smirking, and I'll tell your mother, papa, and dad about the time you stole my original kart when you visited." Sebastian smirks, seeing the boy go stone face quickly.
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