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optimist-pine · 2 months

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Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine #twd season 1

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sirfrogsworth · 1 month

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This was one of the first photos I took of Otis after I got my DSLR 12 years ago. I had been studying photography for months before I got that camera. I wanted to make sure I would be able to take cool pictures of my new furry pal. And while all of that study helped, I was still a novice when it came to photography. I wasn't even a photographer at that point.

Otis is the reason I picked up a camera in the first place. Perhaps you could even say my passion for photography was his gift to me.

I took this photo with a shutter speed of 1/1000 and an ISO of 500. That is a low ISO by today's standards, but on the Canon 60D that was still enough to get a little noisy. I definitely could have done 1/500 at ISO 250 and captured this moment a little cleaner. And my current lens is about 50% sharper too. But it's still a great photo and I was proud I captured it at the time.

I was good at photoshop, but I wasn't great at photo editing. I didn't realize those were two different things at the time. So adding the cape was easier than processing the RAW photo. His patch of white fur is nearly blue.

Eventually I started over and re-processed the photo and added a new cape. I had a few years of photography under my belt and I think I made some improvements.

This edit is probably one of my most shared photos of all time.

So what could I do with this photo in present day with everything I've learned in the last 12 years?

And could I do a better job at adding a cape?

I think maybe I could.

I'd like to thank donlad for inspiring me to go back and redo this photo. It was a lot of fun seeing how I've progressed. I didn't care for him claiming Otis as his own, but I feel some good came out of all of that.

I miss you, Otis.

You were always super, with or without the cape.

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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@outpastthebrakers posted a thing about hospital security guard eddie and er nurse steve and @zerokrox-blog sent in a prompt for a steddie med school au, but despite working in a hospital, i don't know anything about med school other than it's 4 years of schooling and 4 years of residency, so i couldn't deliver on that part unfortunately. but i hope yall enjoy regardless!

"Are you gonna actually do something tonight, or are you just gonna sit there and look handsome like always?"

Steve pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up from the computer and rolls his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "This is the third time you've been down here in the last," Steve checks his watch, "hour. Don't you have a parking lot to patrol or something?"

Eddie only laughs and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Bold of you to assume they let me drive the car, big boy. Nah, Preston drives and I get to be the passenger princess I was born to be."

Steve snorts. He definitely doesn't pay attention to the looks the other nurses are giving them.

"Besides," Eddie continues. He leans his elbows on the counter of the nurse's station. "It's your fault I'm down here so often in the first place."

"Oh really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't hide the fact that he's checking out the tattoos on Eddie's forearms that are showcased by the short sleeves of his uniform shirt framing his biceps. Hospital uniform policy says minimal jewelry but Eddie's never been one for conformity so his fingers are adorned with rings of different size.

(Hospital policy also says that security staff are, under no circumstances, to physically harm violent patients or visitors, but that policy doesn't say anything about Eddie threatening to dole out a knuckle sandwich or two.)

Eddie tracks Steve's gaze and smirks. He taps his fingers on the counter in a rolling rhythm, his black nail polish accenting the flashiness of his rings.

Eddie leans in a little more (which isn't necessary because the counter is a foot above the desk Steve is sitting at) and almost purrs, public decency be damned, "Because, princess, if it weren't for you, I'd be stuck up in my office doing something boring, like reading." He places a hand on his chest. "As much as I love my dragon hoard of books, seeing your pretty face for twelve hours is a much better option."

Steve blushes and tries to sputter out a response, but the radio clipped to Eddie's shoulder goes off.

Eddie confirms the call and groans, dropping his head.

The moment is all Steve needs to compose himself. "Oh no," he frowns, insincere but his tone teasing. "You have to actually do your job. How awful."

Eddie mouths wordlessly back at him, mocking, but then grins and raps his knuckles on the counter once more, giving him a wink. "Don't miss me too much, sweetheart."

Steve tries to not watch as Eddie walks down the hallway, but god those pants fit him so well. He's always had a thing for tiny, perky asses.

"Steve."

Steve jumps and does not yelp like a child. He turns to see his colleague Jen. Jen's been working in the ER for a few years and is a spitfire with a heart of gold.

"You've been flirting with him for months and neither of you have made a real move on each other. What the hell? The betting pool Trent and Brett have is getting shallow."

The tips of Steve's ears start to burn. "Betting pool?!" He turns his chair around to the guys mentioned and they're very much making an effort not to look at him. "You guys are betting on us hooking up? How old are you, twelve?"

"Stevie," Jen sighs in a dramatic way that reminds Steve of Robin and it makes his heart clench. "You have turned down every single person in the vicinity since you started. Eddie is obviously into you and you're into him. I'm going to say this as nicely as I can because you're my favorite out of all the graduates: Please jump this man's bones so I can get my $50."

"My love life is only worth $50 to you?"

"Steve."

Steve groans and hits his head on the desk.

xxxxxxxx

Eddie outright moans when 7am rolls around and he's finally able to take off his uniform. He shoves the bulletproof vest and his holster belt into his locker and his shirt and pants into his dufflebag to be washed later.

God, he doesn't even want to think about laundry.

After he got the call that pulled him away from Steve, it was like the floodgates opened. Two code violets, one report of a car circling the ASU parking lot suspiciously, and three code browns that ended up being patients sneaking outside for a smoke.

He didn't blame them. With the night he had, he's regretting his decision to quit.

Eddie walks through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital after he's changed back into his civvies, and those regrets immediately disappear and his mood brightens when he sees who's waiting for him.

Wayne's van is parked in the drop off zone and the sliding door is opened. A bright grin stretches across Eddie's tired face as he gets closer to his little girl, happily squirming in her car seat and drinking juice out of her bottle.

"Da-dee!"

Eddie lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the ground but Wayne picks it up and puts it next to Emma's diaper bag.

"Hi, baby!" Eddie coos as he unbuckles her. "Good morning!" He kisses her cheek and buries his nose in her hair, a chesnut brown like her dad's, and cuddles her close. "I missed you so much. Did you have fun with papaw last night?"

"She fussed a little after you left but I got her settled," Wayne says. He holds up a McDonald's bag. "Decided she was gonna get an early start this morning so I figured yall could use some breakfast."

Eddie's stomach chooses the right time to growl and his mouth waters. Last he ate was a TV dinner around one in the morning. Eddie tells Wayne to pick a spot in the visitor's parking lot and then takes Emma back inside the hospital with him.

He doesn't see Steve when he gets to the ER.

"Hey, Steve hasn't left yet, has he?"

A nurse, Jen, Eddie thinks her name is, looks at him and immediately starts cooing at the (admittedly adorable) baby in his arms that's looking around with curious eyes and drinking her juice.

"Steve's in the locker room getting changed, he's just about to clock out. Who is this little cutie?"

Eddie grins and bounces Emma lightly. "This is Emma, my little monster. She gets all her cuteness from her other dad."

Jen's face falls for a second but before Eddie can ask what's wrong, Emma squeals way too loudly for a hospital at 7:30 in the morning and almost throws her bottle in her excitement.

"Da! Da!"

Steve looks just about as tired as Eddie feels and he can practically hear their bed calling their names. But Steve's eyes light up when he hears who's calling for him and a sort of puppy-like grin takes over his face, dopey and happy.

Emma is already reaching for him and Steve quickly strides over and takes her in his arms.

"Good morning, lovebug," Steve says, enveloping her in the gentlest hug he can muster. He breathes in her natural baby smell and closes his eyes.

Eddie's hand goes to his waist to keep him awake and Steve hums, opening his eyes and leaning into give Eddie a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, baby," he murmurs, all traces of teasing and flirting from the night before gone and replaced with open affection.

Steve doesn’t need to look at Jen to know her jaw is probably on the floor.

Eddie returns the kiss on Steve's lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Wayne’s waiting with breakfast outside. Seems like little miss princess here decided she was gonna wake up early, early today." He tickles Emma's tummy as he says this, causing her to laugh around her binky and try to push his fingers away.

"Food sounds so good right now," Steve practically whines.

Jen is still staring between the three of them. Steve smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry you didn't win your money. I should’ve told you, Eddie and I have been together for years. Emma's our daughter." He shifts Emma in his arms and gives everyone a wave. "I'll see you guys later."

He and Eddie walk out of the hospital hand in hand. They eat their breakfast in the parking lot and Wayne follows them to their house to stay up with Emma while Steve and Eddie get some much needed sleep.

When they go back into work later that evening, they fess up to everyone and Eddie gives Jen $50 right from his own wallet.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie dads #cj talks #cj writes

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callofdudes · 1 year

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What are you reading?? Part 2

A/N: So... It blew up, I didn't expect that to happen. And most of you wanted a part 2, so I made a part 2. You can find part one here.

CW: Sexual stuff. I don't know what I'm doing

Summary: After the boys find you reading a smut book, they take it upon themselves to tease you. This is the result of the boys teasing you.

After your meeting with Price your interaction with Johnny had sort of been forgotten. You still keep your book close as you walk back to your room for the evening, intent on getting some rest after the long day.

When you step into your room, you are surprised to see Johnny sitting on your bed.

"Hey, this is my room, Johnny."

Johnny hums. "I know." He motions you over and you hesitantly sit next to him. "Still got that book hey?" He snatches it from you.

"Johnny! Give my book back!"

You fight to grab it, pushing him against the bed and reaching for it. He chuckles, having you so close.

"You cheeky little-"

Johnny slips out from under you with the book. "Sorry sweetheart." He grins, his hand coming down and slapping you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise. "You've had your turn with this."

You turn around just as the door closes but you aren't sure what the hell to do. You just stare, blush forming across your face and your heart melts.

Johnny is actually just teasing you, I literally had no endgame for his... I tried to write one though

It was late when you finish your paperwork. You're tired and sore from sitting down all day despite how comfortable your office chairs are.

Finally, you signed the last piece of paper and stood, stretching out your sore muscles.

Now... Time to go try and get your book back from Price. Wouldn't that be a lecture? You hadn't forgotten what he'd said earlier, it made your heart pound in your chest.

You got to his office and knocked on the door. "Captain? Can I come in?"

"It's open."

You opened the door and slipped inside, Price had a cigar in his mouth and was idly sitting there relaxing.

"I uh... I finished my paperwork and I'd like my book back."

Price took a long drag of his cigar and looked at you. He motions you over, so you came. Price contemplates it. "Did you work hard Princess?"

Your insides drop.

"Yes Captain, I finished my paperwork." You try to ignore it but the things it did to you makes you feel utterly filthy.

John's free hand reaches your hip and strokes it with his thumb. He motions you down on his lap. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest. You maneuver to straddle him, all the heat in your stomach plunging further.

Price continues to rub your hip.

"Can't decide if you've been a good girl or not today, reading all those... Things."

You suddenly feel very inclined to make things better. Your heart leaps, leaning in and kissing his neck. "Captain." It comes out strained, trying to keep your breathing together.

Price continues to smoke his cigar as you kiss up his throat and down his collar.

He pulls you back gently and hums. "You've been a very good girl today, we all make mistakes darlin'"

"You've made daddy very happy. I think you deserve a reward."

You whine, that finally doing it too you. "Price!" You bury your head in his neck, hips pivoting and grinding against his thigh.

"Good girl. Tell me what you want sweetheart."

Your breaths come out jagged as you slide down to your knees and tug at his belt. Price chuckles.

He presses out his cigar and undoes his belt for you. You pry open his zipper and kiss along his stomach. Price's hand strokes the back of your head when you pull out his cock.

"That's it," he coos. "take daddy's cock like a good girl."

You whine, kissing his length and taking him in your mouth. His hand curls in your hair, letting you have a moment before gently guiding you down on his length.

He groans deeply, watching you choke when you reach his base. "There you go, such a good girl for daddy."

You come back up, choking on spit. He lights up another cigar while you bob your head down the Captain's length. Price watches you, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He brought you back down all the way and kept you there, watching you choke and swallow harshly. He grins and takes another drag.

Price did not let you leave his office until you had fully earned the rights to your book back in full.

I don't trust myself to write smut guys, I'm sorry if it's weird

Gaz stayed close to your ear as you read. Word after word. You read about each scene, the ideas of the lewd acts leaving an imprint on you.

Gaz's warm hands trailed down your collarbone. You tried to read, your breathing getting heavy.

"And he- Kyle-!"

Kyle kissed your lobe, hands sinking under your shirt. You whined for the touch but Gaz wasn't going to have it. "Keep reading sweetheart."

"Not like this-"

He pinches and twists your nipples. "Read it sweetheart." His tone remains smooth as honey as delicate as a flower, but his actions are commanding, telling you to read.

You gulp and keep reading, even as his hands groped and play, making your insides hurt so good.

You whimpered, shuddering when you flipped the page. Gaz's hands trailed back up your shirt and he rounded the couch. Finally you could see his handsome face in front of you.

"Kyle-"

"I doubt my name is in that book." He kneels in front of you, and you can see the bulge in his pants.

He pushes your knees apart gently with his hands and slowly pulls off your pants. You keep reading, your voice growing shaky and stumbling over words In anticipation of his next move.

Your bottom half completely exposed, Kyle moved forward, sinking two fingers into your cunt.

You gasped and moaned.

"Oh please, please Kyle-"

He slaps you gently, removing his fingers.

Tears start to fill your eyes, trying to read. Just two more pages, just two more pages. But you didn't want it to end.

You recapture your thoughts as much as you can and continue. As you as you start, so does Kyle, sinking in and pressing his tongue between your legs.

You jump, shifting your hips in excitement. Kyle keeps you steady, working you unwound so effortlessly.

You gasp and pant through your words, shaking and moaning loudly. Your thoughts begin to slur together with each stroke of his tongue.

His fingers dip into your entrance again, stretching you nicely around him while his tongue teases your clit with fast flicks.

You manage to finish the chapter and toss the book on the couch. You throw your head back and moan, pressing your hands through Kyle's hair.

"Kyle- more, more, more!!" He brings you undone so effortlessly. You rake your fingers over his scalp, canting your hips up against him in pleasure.

Kyle hums happily, sucking your clit. "Good job sweetheart." He mutters.

Everything feels hot and dizzy when you reach your limit, spasming and coming.

You pant, head heavy and empty. He laps at your spend and kisses your clit, making you jerk your hips.

Kyle kisses up your stomach. "You did so well for me sweetheart." He whispers. "Good girl."

You whimper when he leans over you, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

"Now, get comfortable. If you don't come a second time before they get back, I'll let them watch."

You slip into Ghost's room, the darkness making your skin crawl. The barren walls and the simple bed in the corner.

You reach the middle of the room and Ghost was back behind you, guiding you to the wall and pressing himself up against you.

"Should have known you'd come here for more."

His hand strokes your throat, pulling your head back and locking his thumb and forefinger into the sensitive spots under your jaw.

You moan, hands curling into fists against the cold wall.

"Ghost..." You whimper.

He grunts, rutting his hips down against you, holding you perfectly still like a doll. You gasp and fight for air in your lungs, your insides betraying how you should be feeling.

"You into this shit?" He asks, voice raspy against your ear.

"Please, please Ghost-"

He growls and presses you closer to the wall, his hand grabs your hip and arches your back.

Tears fill your eyes and you pull at his hand.

He scoffs. "You are into this shit."

He keeps you pressed against the wall though his hands leave you. You hear his belt buckle click and slide and it makes your heart race.

When he's ready he grabs your arm and turns you around. You look up at him, he grabs your shoulder and forces you down onto your knees.

"Ghost-"

"Shush. I didn't ask you to talk."

Tears slip down your cheeks, you inch closer and take his hard cock in your hand.

He watches you with his usual disapproving look as you take him into your mouth. You barely get halfway before you start to choke.

Ghost grabs the back of your head and forces you down. You choke and grab his thighs for support, more tears in your eyes.

He grunts. "You like this don't you? You and your weird fuckin' books."

You can't reply, trying to take Ghost as best you could.

He tugs your hair, rocking his hips against you. His hands slide down from your hair to your jaw. He cups your jaw and your neck, keeping you still while he uses you.

He went until your jaw was sore and all you could do was moan lazily.

"Fucking whore." He grunts, dragging the saliva on his cock over your bottom lip.

He forced you back up against the wall and wastes no time fingering you. It's not consistent or long, his fingers gone before you can enjoy it. He lines up his cock and is shoving into you. His girth stretches you wide and has you a moaning, melting mess. He shoves you further into the wall and your back arches. It's sloppy and his cock ruins your insides, your thoughts slurring until there was nothing left.

He kept his hand locked on your throat, watching you lose yourself with every thrust.

"Fuck-" he pounds into you, watching you writhe and whimper under him. He stretches you out and fucks you drunk on him.

And he was right, by the end of the night the story you'd read barely compared.

Alejandro came between your legs and stroked your chin. "Quieres tanto esto, ¿verdad? Quieres ser una puta sólo para nosotros."

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Rodolfo moves you out of your seat and forces you down gently onto the floor. You watch Alejandro stand over you, forced down on your hands and knees when Rodolfo leans over you.

He presses his chest to your back, hands groping your chest.

Alejandro undoes his belt and strokes your chin. It's all too much, watching Alejandro and feeling Rodolfo undoing his own gear and pulling down your pants.

"Se ve tan hermoso para nosotros como este." Rodolfo whispers in your ear.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Say the word amor, and we're all yours." Alejandro purred.

"Please... Please, yes." You whimper.

Rodolfo's hand pulls down your underwear, pushing two fingers into your entrance. You gasp and moan, arching into it.

Alejandro grabs your chin firmly and presses his cock to your lips. Rodolfo makes you moan, Alejandro fitting his thick girth down your throat.

Tears fill your eyes. Alejandro guides you along his cock while Rodolfo peppers your back in soft kisses, stretching you out nicely.

He is gentle with you, whispering sweet words in your ear and playfully squeezing your breasts.

Alejandro feels heat pool in his stomach watching his best friend treat you like that. "Mm, you gonna let Rodolfo ruin you?? You gonna let him use you amor?"

Your knees shake, hands balling into fists, hungry and eager.

Rodolfo retracts his fingers and lines up to you. He shares a glance with Alejandro before pushing in. It stretches and burns, his girth much thicker than you expected. And it makes you choke down on Alejandro.

They rock you back and forth. The soft front Rodolfo had put up soon gone as he pounds at an unholy pace deep inside of you.

"Fuck yes, letting us ruin you like this." Rodolfo growled. He fit you so nicely inside your walls. You come faster than you'd expected, clenching around Rodolfo and whimpering as you come.

It all went so fast, at some point Rodolfo had picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing and slammed you down on the desk. Alejandro purring with each rough stroke, Rodolfo rocking you against the desk.

"Mira lo que le has hecho a Alejandro, puta."

Alejandro is a mess, movements frantic and desperate. He has a tight hold on your throat when he finishes, head falling back as he slows.

Rodolfo holds out, making you gasp and moan loudly before he finishes soon after, leaving you a mess. Feeling warm and destroyed.

Alejandro sees the tired hungry glazing over your eyes. He smears the last of his spend across your lips.

"You won't be needing that book back my dear." Alejandro whispers in your ear.

A/N: I don't write smut often, and not for XReaders, but I knew what I was getting into so I did my best to make you a worthy part 2 with the criteria I was comfortable with. It's a bit awkward because it's not a whole fic, but I think it's ok. And I do hope you enjoyed it. Now I'm going to go write something fluffy to reclaim my soul.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #alejandro vargas #ghost x reader #captain john price #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo parra x you #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

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violetsiren90 · 2 months

Text

Nothing But You | Bang Chan/Reader

Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x f!human!Reader

Genre: hybrid AU; non-idol AU, strangers to lovers; love in adversity; cozy one-shot; fluff and angst

Word Count: 1434

Summary: The world's not ready for your love, but that doesn't matter. None of it matters - nothing but him.

Part 2: Evergreen (though both can be read as stand-alone works)

Content Warnings: I'd give this a PG-13 for content, but ALL of my work is 18+ (minors, dni); cuddling; co-sleeping; bad weather (but safe indoors); shirtless Chris (Chan is called Christopher); descriptions of hybrid physical features (including some minimal body hair); depictions of prejudice towards, discrimination, and marginalization of hybrids; a character gets lost and is momentarily frightened; allusions to sexual intimacy; implied domestic violence (by an authority figure, not Chris); running away; mention of reproduction (pups); for some reason even though it is explicitly stated I feel the need to mention that Reader and Chris are both adults throughout

Author's Note: I'll tell you what I didn't have planned for this Sunday afternoon and that was a Bang Chan hybrid AU one-shot. But the image of cuddling up with Chan in the middle of a snowstorm took me hostage and now here we are. I've never written a hybrid AU before, so this was very fun! If you read this, I hope this Christopher brings you the comfort you deserve today. 💕

P.S In case no one has told you today, you're so loved and so, so worthy of love. 🧜💜

The icy wind howls, whipping swirling flurries of snow past the windows of the little cabin. You stir, not opening your eyes, heavy with slumber as your other senses remind you of the homey trappings of your shelter. A fire crackles and pops, its warmth licking over your nose and cheeks. A soft, heavy blanket fashioned of rabbit pelts lays over your body, rustling quietly as you nuzzle into the man beneath you.

His chest rises and falls with the even breath of a deep sleep. Your cheek rests against his bare skin and the silky patch of thick, dark hair between his firm pectorals. It isn't really hair - not like yours. It's fur. Soft, dark tufts of it decorate his body everywhere hair would grow on a man; a patch on his chest, under his arms, at the dip of his Adonis belt. It smells like him. Like musk and pine and lavender. Manly and primal, floral and gentle. Christopher.

Hybrids were still treated like dirt in so many ways. They didn't require licenses to live without owners anymore, but still, they were pushed to the margins of the community by the intolerance of common practice. You yourself had been taught to fear them. Monsters, your grandfather had told you, who would turn on their own young in a moment of morbid instinct. Even so, you always found more pity in your heart than terror.

And then, one day, you met him.

You had been loading groceries into the bed of your grandparents' jalopy at the general store and dropped a bag of oats as you struggled to hoist it onto the tailgate. You hadn't even noticed he was beside you when he easily hefted the bag and the remaining two boxes of eggs onto the vehicle without a word. He shot you a little smile, but before you could thank him your eyes were arrested by a pair of sharp brown ears rising from his curly hair. He pulled on a cap and turned to go before you could collect your wits enough to speak.

You had thought of nothing save his warm brown eyes and sweet smiling lips in the weeks that followed, taking any chance you could to steal away to the general store in hopes of seeing him again.

But your paths never crossed. Not until the following summer.

You had packed in to the camping grounds by the lake with a few other girls from your graduating class for a weekend getaway from the menfolk - not that you had any - and you'd joined them rather reluctantly and at the persistence of your grandmother, who insisted a little socialization would do you good.

That first afternoon you quickly grew tired of the chatter. If the weekend was meant to be a reprieve from the men, you grumbled to yourself, then why were they the constant and sole topic of conversation? You gathered up your sketching supplies and walked down the trail a ways, finding that the more distance you put between yourself and the shrieks of laughter and gossip behind you, the better you felt. Soon, you couldn't hear them at all. You settled onto a rock at the edge of a small glen and took your pencil in hand.

Suddenly, some hours later, it dawned on you that your eyes were straining somewhat on the page, and you looked about, startled at the waning light reflecting the late hour. Gathering your things, you hurried back to down the path, only to realize with a sickness in your gut that you were well and truly lost, and that the daylight was nearly spent.

He had found you then, sniffling rather pathetically beside a tree. You'd been alarmed by the sudden sound of his voice, having not heard his furtive approaching steps, but when you raised your frightened eyes to his face the fear had quickly given way to wonder. You'd given up hope of seeing him again, and now here he was, once more in your hour of need.

It was too dark now to find the trail back to the campsite, so you helped divide the load of bracken he had tucked under his arm between you as he led the way back to his cabin, not far into the thick. As you walked you noticed his tail, gray and brown and full behind him. Had he hidden it, that day at the store, you wondered? Did he always when he was around people like you? You remembered how surprised you had been at the site of his pretty ears upon your first meeting and you felt ashamed. You tried to find every possible way to assure him, as you walked and talked, that he didn't frighten you. You hoped he understood.

Before long, you arrived at a little clearing with a log cabin at its heart. Smoke rose invitingly from the chimney, and you found it was as small and homey and warm within as it seemed from the cold darkness of the wood. The stranger gave you bread and stew and hot milk, and you ate with him and told him of yourself and he shared with you in return.

He was a wolf hybrid. The sole survivor of his pack, he had traveled hundreds of miles to settle into the mountains of your home. He made a living hunting, trapping, and gathering the wares of the wild to sell in town, as did a handful of other hybrids living in the mountains - a group of traders known collectively as The Strays. He told you that his name was Christopher, but that most simply called him The Wolf. When you repeated his given name softly and asked if you could call him by it he smiled that smile again, but broader and brighter and with his eyes pressed into little moons and crow's feet in their corners. His canines glinted in the light of the fire and one beautiful dimple pressed into his left cheek.

You were in love.

You asked him, a little shyly before parting the following day, if you could be friends. He smiled sadly and brushed rough fingers over your cheek before telling you that you were already his friend, but that you should keep yourself safe by staying away. People were suspicious of hybrids, and if he were seen with a human woman, it could be dangerous for you both.

At the edge of the campsite, when he turned to go, you grabbed his arm. You told him that every Saturday morning you helped wait tables at Maple's Diner, and that if he came, breakfast would be on the house. You wanted to thank him, you insisted. In truth, you just wanted to give him a chance to find you, should he wish to. Oh, you desperately hoped that he wished to.

And he did. He showed up a few weeks later, ears tucked under a hat and shoulders looking broad in a worn flannel shirt. You gave him coffee and bacon and a pile of pancakes and sat with him when your shift was through. It became a ritual, Saturday mornings at the diner. And then you started meeting for lunch. Then dinner. Then for long walks and trips to the movies. Then he started to take you out for drives in his truck - for picnics in the mountains, to watch the stars from the bed, to never leave the cab or each other's arms as the windows fogged with your labored breaths and mingled heat.

One night your grandparents were waiting up when you returned. Your grandfather was in a rage, your grandmother was all worry and woes. It was a sin, what you were doing, they said. In the eyes of what god, you demanded in return? Your grandmother clung to your arm, begging you to come to your senses - it was dangerous, and worse, you would be ruined for life. You told her that none of that meant anything to you. Only him, he was all that mattered. Only Christopher. To hell with everyone and everything else in that goddamned town that treated him with suspicion and shame - that could never begin to see how perfectly beautiful he was.

Your grandfather forbade you to see him.

You told him you were grown and he couldn't stop you.

He raised his hand, and your grandmother screamed.

When Christopher pulled up in his pickup you were in front of Maple's Diner. He gasped as he crouched to cradle you in his arms and gently brush his fingers over your broken lip and the green bruise on your cheek. He gathered you up, gathered your little bags, and took you home.

Home to the woods.

To the little warm cabin.

To his arms and his heart.

It's the third winter since you left it all behind - everything that tried to keep you from him.

Things are so different now, so simple, slow, steady and intimate in the life you share. You've started talking about pups. Maybe someday. Maybe soon.

You look up at his lovely, peaceful face, washed golden in the firelight, and smile, settling back down against his chest. As the wind howls your eyes slip shut, and you sleep again in the strong, gentle arms of a wolf.

-Fin-

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d10nyx · 2 months

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Hi pookie bear… its ur favorite anon again..

Hear me out, Step brother! Leon whos dear innocent little step sister gets stuck somewhere (interesting position..) and leon cant help himself when he sees her predicament so he takes advantage of the situation and the fact that she asked him to help her get unstuck. (maybe a threat of leaving her stuck at some point, its up 2 u bbg)

ily snoogle ��🫶

hello to... my favourite anon omg. if you say so it must be true :3

i'm hearing you out!! idk why but silly porn tropes make me giggle sometimes... listen don't analyse the logistics of acc being able to get stuck like this. i see how much space there is under the dumb beds girlies get stuck under in porn we all know it doesn't make sense

ILY EVEN MORE POOKIE... here's a drabble for you :3

nsfw below the cut - tw: stepcest, brief dub-con, leon is a little mean :((

"What the-" Leon's footsteps falter as he walks past you, stopping to take in the predicament you've gotten yourself into. He snorts out a laugh as he sees you, and you can practically sense that dumb smirk plastered on his face despite not being able to see him.

Having an ottoman bed was usually great. Your room was the smallest(Leon had promised to make your life a living hell if you took the bigger one) so having the extra space was nice. You just had to lift the slats and mattress up and boom! Free storage unit.

Of course, you're not that lucky, so the stupid thing failed on you and snapped shut with you still leaning over to look for stuff, trapping you inside. Your whole upper body was incased, and the angle was so awkward you couldn't get any leverage to push the damn thing open again.

"Leon!" You breathe out, feeling relief that someone had found you. You thought you'd be stuck under here forever. "Jesus, thank fuck. Can you help me get out of here?"

"You know, as much as I'd love to help you," He starts, steeping closer until he's right behind you. His hands settle on your hips, giving them a little squeeze. Your breath hitches at the contact, and you try to squirm away from his touch.

"I think you could stand to stay there a little longer." He finishes, his fingers brushing the waistband of your shorts.

"Leon... dude." You hiss, trying to squirm away from his touch. His hands have your cheeks burning up, your brows furrowed in confusion. "This isn't funny! What the hell are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" He repeats, letting out another laugh as he starts to slowly tug your shorts down. You can feel his gaze locked onto you as he slips them down so they pool at your knees. "I'm taking advantage of the situation. It'd be a shame to let this... opportunity go to waste."

"Oppur... wait. Leon, you can't be serious! Come on, this is messed up! Just help me out!"

"No can do, sis." He hums, brushing his thumb against your panties. Damp. Looks like you were enjoying this more than you let on. "Mom and dad have gone out, so... either you stay here for the next few hours, hell... maybe even the rest of the day, or you let me have my fun, and I'll getcha out."

You pause at his words, biting your lip. You didn't really have much of a choice. Your abdomen was already aching from being pressed so harshly against the bedframe by the part of the bed that lifts. You didn't want to be here for hours.

"I-I guess... just... I don't know, Leon, I haven't..." You mumble, your voice a lot less snappy than before.

"Aww, princess... where'd your attitude go?" He coos teasingly, rubbing circles onto your clit through your panties. You jolt at the sensation, moaning softly. "My baby sis is a virgin? That's cute."

He tugs at your panties, letting them drop down with your shorts. You hear him take a sharp intake of breath in as he looks at you, his fingers spreading your puffy lips.

"Don't worry. I'm not a complete asshole. Just a small one." He says cheekily, and then you hear the dostinct sound of a belt buckle and the zipper of his jeans. A moment passes when you can hear the rustling of fabric, and then his hands are on you again.

"I won't fuck you. Yet. But I'll make us both feel good, sweetheart." He says, giving you a few light smacks to your ass.

"Okay..." You breathe out, your heart rabbiting in your chest. You swallow hard, brows furrowing as you hear him shift.

"That's a good girl." He grunts, slotting his cock between your folds. That's where he keeps it, just rutting his cock against you. You coat him in your arousal, the slick sounds of your pussy echoing in the room as you drip all over his cock. His tip brushes your clit every time his hips jerk forward, making you whine.

"You do owe me now, sweetheart." He groans, forcing your legs together so the fat of your thighs keeps his cock secure as he humps your cunt. "I better be the one to break you in. Want my cute step-sister's pussy all to myself."

"Y-yeah... all yours..." You breathe out, trying to rock your hips back to get more friction against your sensitive nub. You whimper as the change in angle has his length dragging along your folds deliciously.

"Think I watched a video like this once." He says with a huff of laughter, gripping your hips right as he chases his orgasm using your body. "Must've drained all the step-sibling content on PornHub... couldn't help myself seein' you stuck like this."

His thrusts start to grow a little sloppy, his breathing becoming more shallow. He's close already, and you're not far behind. He rolls his hips, angling himself to make sure he's giving you the friction you need.

Your body tenses as you cum with a loud moan of his name, twitching from the aftershocks. He groans and pulls away when you start whimpering from oversensitivity. You hear a few wet schlick sounds as he jerks himself off, flinching slightly when you feel his cum costing your ass and pussy.

He pulls up your shorts and panties without cleaning you off, making you cringe as they press the cum into your skin, a grimace crossing your face. You hear the sounds of him redressing before he's lifting the top of the bed, looking down at you with a cocky smirk.

"C'mon, princess. Up you get." He says, grabbing your wrist to pull you up. "And don't forget... I'll be back for more."

#leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you

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c0wb0yenthusiast · 8 months

Text

❝Bunny❞

(Phillip Graves x Reader)

Summary: You're the infamous barracks bunny and Phillip Graves has just had a rough day. What happens next?

Word count: 1k (THIS IS ONLY PART 1! There will be more)

Warnings? : smut 🧍 sorry its my first one (if you have any constructive criticism I'd love to hear it, just DM me!)

Taglist : @sarahs-secrets2 🫶🫶 (comment if you'd like to be added to my taglist!)

"I-- I hate to call you in like this, Doll. I really do.." Graves muttered as you shut his office door behind you, clicking the lock.

He was laid back in his chair, rubbing a finger to his temple as his brows furrowed deeper and deeper.

"It's okay, I'm used to it.", you were the 'barracks bunny' and it wasn't a secret anymore, at least to your commander it wasn't.

You'd been waiting for this since your reputation began to soar throughout the headquarters.

You may be good at your job, but you were even better at helping your colleagues relieve themselves.

So when the Commander sent for you, you already knew what you were up for.

He sighed to himself, running a hand through his hair. Patting his thigh with a gloved hand, you inched forward.

As you carefully took a seat on his lap, comments were waiting to slip out of your mouth at any second.

"You know, Commander, I think I know how to cheer you up.", you smiled sweetly, laying your head against his chest as he watched you lazily.

He didn't respond for a moment, taking off his gloves and setting them on the desk to let his hands wander.

"You sure about that, honey?", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. His fingertips trailed up and down your waist slowly, stroking your tits at one point.

The soft little flicks and

"I'm positive."

As you unbuckled his belt, you cooed into his ear, "How about..", you unzipped his fly slowly, dragging your fingers down and watching his eyes flit from you back down to your hand, "You tell me what's been bothering you, hm?"

"Well-- well.. Shepherd constantly nags at me for.. For being behind..", he tried to continue his sentence, maybe even muster a couple more words out - but he couldn't the minute you began to stroke his dick through his briefs.

"Has he been giving you a hard time?", you continued to whisper into his ear, yet much more breathier as he grasped under your shirt, almost breaking the clasp for your bra as he clawed it off. Nonetheless, you slid down his briefs and circled your thumb around his tip, covering your finger with the slow precum that was dribbling out of his erection.

"He-- he never.. Never listens..", his breathing quickened as you felt his chest tremble beneath you from the loud, shallow breaths he was now taking. Now having to tear your hand away from his dick to pull your shirt off, Graves had left you completely exposed in front of him.

He instinctively pressed a thumb to your nipple, groping the rest of your sensitive skin with his cold hands. Your back arched at the tingle of his calloused fingertips tracing circles into your nipple.

"Ah-- it's okay, honey, I'm listening- fuck!", you suppressed a moan at the sudden hot sensation of Graves sucking on your collarbone. This only made you arch into him more, your hand slowing it's pace as you lost yourself in his touch.

He didn't respond; the only thing you could hear was the wet, sloppy sounds as he left a trail of raw, tingling red hickeys on your skin.

You couldn't lose yourself now, you'd only just started.

Now adjusting yourself in his grasp, you had pulled down your panties and straddled him in his chair. The friction from his dick onto your clit was making you light headed from how good it felt. You didn't even realise you'd started to rock against him until the chair began to creak.

Graves groaned against you, licking and even nibbling parts of your skin.

All you could do was moan and glide up and down his dick, which was pushed up against his stomach and now dripping in your slick.

"Y- you know.. I feel like- like I've been horrible lately...", he sucked in a breath, pushing his hips out slightly to try and close the gap between the two of you.

"I don't think so, baby... I-- I think you're doing such a good job..", wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders helped you as you raised yourself to meet the tip of his dick.

He immediately looked down, biting his lip at the sight.

"Do.. Do you have any protection?"

"I'm on the pill, it'll be okay."

Without warning, you sat down and let out a gasp at the sudden stretch pushing it's way through your cunt.

"Jesus chris-"

"Hey now..", he huffed, his chest moving rapidly now, "Don't use the lord's name in vain."

"Fuck, this is too much-- Don't move!", another moan was forced out of you as he shifted in his seat. Every little movement, every small rub and squeeze was pushing you closer to a climax.

You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead as you gripped onto Graves' shirt, burying yourself deep into his shoulder. It may have muffled the sound of your helpless moans, but now you could hear his surprisingly focused murmurs in your ear.

"Just... Just a little more, baby... You're so good..", he mustered between shallow breaths. One of his hands was on your back, rubbing circles in between your shoulder blades.

It was becoming too much.

Suddenly, Graves' voice was cut off with a gasp. His release was drawn out, dripping out of you the second you pulled out.

You still hadn't come, but it was fine. Maybe you could just go back to your bunk and-

"We're not done, honey.", he rasped, holding onto your wrist as you began to stand up.

"W.. What..?", you weren't even able to gain your balance from the ruthless pounding which had weakened your legs already. The feeling standing out above it all was your cunt still clenching around nothing, the beating of your heart was still ringing in your ears.

Now, both of his hands moved up to your torso, gently laying you back onto his desk.

Papers slid away as you felt your shoulders dig into various items displayed on the desk. Graves hastily swiped them out of your way, standing up and looking down at you now.

"Comfortable?"

It wasn't. Now that you weren't encased in his warm arms and uniform, the cold air was settling in your skin in an uncomfortable manner. Goosebumps were rising on your arms and legs, but worst of all your nipples perked up, sore and exposed under the harsh lighting of his office.

"I'm fine, don't worry.", you whispered, trying to look anywhere but at Graves. He was examining your pussy so intently, eyeing the cum that had been smeared down your thighs as they pressed together nervously.

"I can't just leave you like this, baby..", he mumbled, stroking a hand up your thigh.

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #fanfiction #cod mwii #cod mw2 fanfic #phillip graves x reader #call of duty #call of duty smut

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actuallysaiyan · 26 days

Text

I Think You're Holding The Heart Of Mine(Part Ten)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex(fem receiving), canon violence, exorcist, swearing, fluff, creampie finish word count: 2k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you and Nanami go at it like bunnies! In the end, you both realize how you've been the perfect match in heaven. a/n: This isn't intended to be the last chapter, I'd like to finish it off in one or two chapters. I am so attached to this series, but it's coming to an end. Big thank you to @carnal-lnstinct as without them, I don't think this series would even be where it is now. Thank you for implanting that beautiful idea in my mind, thank you for writing that thirst, thank you for writing that fic. taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @sparklynightm4re

Masterlist

Your hands can’t move fast enough to undress him. His hands are working quickly too, trying to shed you of all this clothing. He desperately needs to feel you under his touch. He wants to savor this moment, and burn it into his mind forever.

“Need you so fuckin’ bad,” you whine before he kisses you hungrily.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

With great strength, Kento shoves you onto the bed. He’s got your shirt off and your pants unbuttoned. You’ve got his tie undone and his blazer off. Both of you just need to go faster, even if you’ve got quite a few days here. It’s just so urgent and needy.

Kento presses kisses to your throat as he unclasps your bra. You giggle softly when you notice his eyes widening. He’s never been able to take his time to admire your naked body like this before.

“Gorgeous,” he mutters before cupping your breasts in his hands.

His head dips down to tentatively lick your nipple, and when you gasp for him, he repeats the action to the other nipple. He goes side to side, switching between nipples until they are both pebbled. Then he allows you to continue undressing him. Your fingers struggle with his harness.

“Have I ever told you just how sexy you look with this thing on?” You grin.

Kento laughs, “No you never have. Is this why you’re having trouble taking it off?”

And with his hands on yours guiding you, you both manage to get the garment off of him. Then your fingers work hard to unbutton each button on his shirt. Once his chest is exposed, you can’t help but lean in and begin leaving open-mouthed kisses on his skin.

“F-fuck…” Kento sighs as you nip and suck on his neck and collarbone.

Your eyes meet in a very sensual gaze and soon Kento has your pants pulled down. His eyes never leave yours as his fingers begin to tease your panty-clad pussy. You buck up into his touch, whining his name so pretty just for him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say my name like that,”

Then slowly, he peels your panties off. His eyes widen once more as he gets a good look at your cute cunt. You’re soaked just from kissing and undressing. His hands work on your breasts for a bit as you unbuckle his belt. But soon he finds himself growing much too impatient.

His large, calloused hands push your thighs apart and he rests on the bed between them. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest as he takes a greedy inhale of your scent. He knows he could so very easily get addicted to just your scent alone. The minute his tongue presses against your folds, he knows he’s a goner.

“Fuck baby,” he moans as he begins lapping at you like a starved man. “Sweetest little pussy. All for me.”

Your eyes roll back and you begin to shudder as the pleasure keeps building more and more and more. You fist the sheets beneath you as you try desperately to hold on. Your thighs are already trying to squeeze his head as Kento licks and sucks your pussy with expertise.

“Such a sweet pussy, fuck…”

And when you look down at him and lock eyes with him, you see just how dark his eyes are. He reaches up to intertwine his fingers with yours as he goes right back to suckling on your little bundle of nerves. Kento begins to rut against the mattress, still half-dressed.

You cry out his name and squeeze his hands as you fall off the edge. Kento is eager to lap up all your juices; he’s ready to drown in your essence. You have to push him away to get him to stop. But then you see a hungrier look in his eyes. Kento pushes his pants down and eagerly removes his boxers.

With him between your thighs and the heft of his cock settling on your mound, you know that this is exactly what you’ve been craving for so long. He leans in to kiss you and you can taste yourself so clearly on his lips.

“Can I–fuck…can I put it in?” Kento asks you, his lips so close to yours still.

“Please, I need you.”

He doesn’t need to hear more before pushing himself into you. Both of you gasp at the sudden pleasure. Your senses are on fire as Kento bottoms out with that first thrust. And for a few seconds, you both hold onto each other as you come to terms with just how intense this feels. He kisses you so softly, so tenderly.

“I love you so much,” he whispers before his hips begin to rock sensually.

“I love you too, Ken.”

His hands hold you by the hips, guiding you to move against him as well. Both of you are panting and whining as the pleasure lights a fire in your bellies. His lips keep attaching to yours, kissing you so fiercely.

Your fingers tangle in his beautiful blond hair, tugging slightly. He grunts in surprise, and his hips begin to rock even faster. Soon he’s gripping onto your thighs to pull you in with every harsh thrust. The bed begins to creak with every move he makes, and the headboard is slamming against the wall as his pace becomes rougher and deeper.

“Promise me,” you whine. “Promise to never hide anything from me again,”

Kento grunts, “I p-promise…never gonna hide anything from you. Never again.”

You reach out for him, grabbing his wrists, “Don’t leave me, please…I need you.”

This is all Kento needs to hear before he’s drilling into you even deeper. He pushes your knees to your chest, moaning as the angle change is so much more pleasurable for the both of you. He kisses you hungrily again, your tongues rubbing together sloppily.

“Never going to leave you, my love. Never going to stop loving you.”

One of his hands comes down to begin rubbing your clit, and you’re gasping and panting as your orgasm hits you hard. Your silky walls pulse around his cock, making him grunt. As his balls draw up, he’s got no time to warn you before he’s cumming deep inside your pussy.

You both move in tandem to ride out your high. Slowly, he stops the pace to cup your face in his hands. He kisses you over and over and over.

“I love you forever…Never will I hurt you again.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

It’s an hour later and you’re both in your private onsen. The stars are out and you’re clinging to your lover. He’s the happiest you’ve seen him in so long. He can’t stop kissing you and caressing you. It’s almost like he believes you’re about to fade away at any moment.

“I’m so happy we got to come here again,” you confess.

Kento smiles, “Me too. But don’t forget, we have important business to attend to tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, “We’ve got this! We’ve been the best team ever. Always…”

Kento’s heart flutters when you say this. It was true; your cursed technique and his did mesh well together. He had the precision and you had almost all the elements in your arsenal. Just being able to pair those two things together seemed to be a match made in Jujutsu heaven.

“You’re right, darling. We are the best team.”

You beam from the praise from your lover. It makes you feel so good to hear those words from Kento. He loves the way you’re so giddy right now. He can’t help but maneuver you so that you’re straddling his lap in the onsen. You feel his erection poking you.

“Oh, does thinking about working together turn you on, Ken?” you tease him as you kiss him.

“Hmmm…maybe a little bit. I love seeing you in action.”

With very little effort, he picks you up and allows you to slowly sink down on his cock. Both of you are panting once more, unable to hold back the moans. It’s tough because you know that old woman could come in here and interrupt your fun time.

“Ken,” you whine as he begins to guide you to ride him. “W-what about the innkeeper?”

Kento grunts, “If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay away.”

You cling to him as he bucks up into you. You try to quiet your cries of passion and love as his cock hits that sweet spot dead on with every sloppy thrust. It feels like you two were made for one another.

“Your little cunt milks me so good,” Kento whimpers as your walls pulse around him.

You move your hips more, trying to ride him even harder to get the upper hand. But with the way he has your arms wrapped around you, you know that you aren’t winning. He’s got you so tightly pressed against him, he knows you’re not going to be able to overpower him.

“Just be a good girl for me, hm?” he asks as he’s fucking you harder. “Just take it.”

He dips his head down to begin nipping at your neck, then he leaves sloppy kisses down to your collarbone. The second his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you shudder and fall off the edge. Your eyes rolling back as the pleasure ebbs and flows through your entire body. Kento is right behind you, grunting against your skin as he paints your insides white for the second time tonight.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

“Right there! Get him!” Kento calls as he points his blade at the curse.

With Sagittarius’ bow and arrow, you’re taking the shot. Kento is right behind you, his cursed technique ready to hit the weakest spot on the curse. He’s ready for you to take the shot. You falter for a moment as the curse comes crashing towards both of you.

“Now, darling. You’ve got this, I’m right here.”

With his words ringing in your ears, you take the shot. Immediately, Kento’s cursed technique pairs with yours and the curse is hit in the weakest spot. You both grimace as it shrieks, crying out so loudly.

Slowly it begins to disintegrate in front of your very eyes. You can’t believe that you both were able to perform such a successful exorcist. The very teamwork that you had been talking about the night before had just come to fruition. The curse was ended and there would be no more trouble in this part of Japan.

Kento gives you a high five as you face him. Just this little action alone causes you to be nostalgic for your early days as sorcerers. You think about the first time you and Kento used your powers together, and it was a time where you both felt so proud of yourselves.

“Couldn’t do it without my partner,” you praise him.

Kento blushes, “Please…you’re plenty capable. You’re amazing.”

This is when you grab him by the tie and pull him in for such a passionate kiss. The air around you even feels different. You wrap your arms around him, holding him so tight to you. You never want to let go of him. You never want to let go of these feelings.

“Wow…” he says, touching his lips after you pull away.

You giggle as you begin making your way out of the abandoned building. Kento catches up to you, his hand grabbing yours and your fingers laced together.

“Hey,” you begin. “I think you owe me a date.”

Kento looks at you with a puzzled look on his face, “Is that so?”

You nod, “Mhm. Last time we were here, you promised me a date. And we never got to go on one.”

You two approach the village, noticing the cute little pub just calling your names. You point to it, and Kento knows exactly what’s on your mind.

“How about tonight? My treat,” Kento offers.

You laugh, “I thought you’d never ask.”

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pengujoon · 8 months

Text

DRUNK-DAZED

content. gojo x drunk!reader, fluff, lots of fluff and domesticity! reader gets hit on in the bar, protective gojo. teacher!reader au (NOT to be mistaken as a student x teacher relationship). NOT established relationship au, but things get well at the end

a/n. I love this one so much. honestly who wouldn’t want to wake up to a beauty like gojo right next to them?

The night was alive with energy as the city's neon lights painted the streets in a vibrant palette. You found yourself seated at the bar of a trendy establishment, laughter and conversations merging into a symphony of shared moments. The bartender was a familiar face, and the ambiance felt like a comforting embrace.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Satoru Gojo — the charismatic and enigmatic jujutsu sorcerer — had decided to explore the city's nightlife. Fate had guided him to the very bar where you had become a regular presence.

As he entered, the atmosphere shifted. Gojo's presence was magnetic, drawing attention from all corners of the room. His gaze scanned the crowd before landing on you at the bar. A glint of recognition crossed his eyes, and he approached with his signature charisma.

"Isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Gojo's smooth voice carried a hint of amusement as he took the seat beside you.

You turned, a mixture of surprise and delight evident on your face. "Gojo, what brings you here?"

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Just thought I'd see what the nightlife has to offer. And it seems I've stumbled upon a familiar face."

A blush tinted your cheeks, and you couldn't suppress a smile. "Well, welcome to my little corner of the night."

As the hours passed, conversation flowed with an easy familiarity. You shared stories, laughed at each other's jokes, and navigated the evening with the kind of companionship that felt both comforting and thrilling.

"Okay, but imagine if our curses had a karaoke night," you exclaimed, your voice punctuated by laughter.

Gojo's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I can already picture Todo belting out power ballads."

Laughter echoed around you, and as the night deepened, the bar seemed to come alive with its own energy. The bartender, who had become a friend, served your drinks with a knowing smile.

Just as the shroud of midnight enveloped the sky, a shadow fell over the bar. A stranger had approached, his intentions unclear but his demeanour unsettling. His gaze lingered on you, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Gojo's posture subtly shifted, a protective edge entering his expression. His presence radiated authority, sending a clear signal that he was not to be trifled with.

The stranger's smile was anything but reassuring. "Well, well, what do we have here? A lovely lady and her handsome companion."

Your heart raced as Gojo's grip on his glass tightened. His voice was calm but laced with a warning edge. "Can we help you with something?"

The stranger's eyes flickered between you and Gojo, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "Just thought I'd offer the lady some company. She seems like she could use a real man by her side."

Before you could react, Gojo's presence intensified. His voice was a low growl, his eyes locked onto the stranger's with unwavering intensity. "She's perfectly capable of choosing her own company. Now, I suggest you leave."

The tension in the air was palpable, and the stranger seemed to think better of his words. With a mocking grin, he backed away, disappearing into the early morning haze.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, and your gaze met Gojo's. His expression had softened, the edge of protectiveness replaced by genuine concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Yeah, thanks to you."

Gojo's lips curved into a small smile. "You know, I've got a reputation to uphold. Can't have anyone causing trouble for someone under my watch."

As the clock neared 2 a.m., the world outside was shrouded in darkness. The drinks had flowed generously, and a warm buzz enveloped you. You felt carefree, as if the weight of the world had momentarily lifted.

"Gojo-sensei," you slurred playfully, "you're really something else, you know?"

He grinned, his own words slightly slurred. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

You leaned in conspiratorially, your voice hushed. "You've got that enigma thing going on. Like, who even are you, really?"

Gojo's laughter was infectious, filling the air as he leaned closer. "Ah, the mystery deepens."

As the night progressed, you found yourself drifting into a haze of warmth and laughter. Time became fluid, and the line between reality and the intoxicating atmosphere of the bar blurred.

At some point, the bar's lights seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow. The laughter continued, but you were cocooned in a bubble of your own, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment.

"Hey, are you okay?" Gojo's voice broke through the fog, his concern evident.

You managed a drowsy smile. "I'm good, just... cozy."

Gojo chuckled, and before you knew it, strong arms were wrapped around you. His warmth was reassuring, and as you leaned against him, you felt a sense of safety and protection you hadn't experienced before.

"Time to head back," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody.

Your surroundings blurred as Gojo guided you, the city's lights a soft glow in the background. The night was still young, and while the world continued its dance, you were wrapped in the arms of a protector, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

And as you succumbed to the embrace of sleep, you couldn't help but think that sometimes, the night could bring surprises that left you with a sense of wonder and warmth.

Your body felt weightless, cradled in a protective embrace. Your head rested against a solid chest, the rhythmic sound of a heartbeat reverberating through you. As consciousness gradually returned, you became aware of the gentle swaying motion and the soft footfalls beneath you.

You were being carried.

Your eyes fluttered open, your vision hazy as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. The city lights blurred into streaks of colour, and the cool night air brushed against your skin.

And there it was — the subtle, inviting scent that had greeted you, like a whisper in the air. It was a fragrance that mingled with the night, an aroma that made your senses come alive.

"Easy there," a voice murmured, its tone both comforting and amused.

Your colleague was carrying you. The Satoru Gojo was carrying you, his arms securely around you as he navigated the darkened streets. Your initial surprise gave way to a mixture of gratitude and confusion.

"Gojo-sensei?" you managed to mumble, your words slurred from the lingering effects of the alcohol.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your cheek. "That's right. Just relax, I've got you.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of safety that was both unexpected and oddly comforting. The night's events seemed surreal, a blend of laughter, drinks, and now this — being carried by the very person you had shared the night with.

As you rested against him, your thoughts began to drift, and your eyelids grew heavy once more. The sensation of being in his arms, his heartbeat as your lullaby, carried you into the embrace of sleep.

As the morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting the room in a soft glow, you shifted in your sleep, your senses gradually awakening. The first thing you felt was warmth — a cocoon of comfort and security that enveloped you.

Your eyes fluttered open, and there he was — Satoru Gojo, still beside you, his arms wrapped around you in an embrace that felt both protective and intimate. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his expression peaceful in sleep.

The events of the previous night flooded back — the laughter, the shared stories, being carried by him — and now, waking up in his embrace. It was a moment of vulnerability and connection that left your heart racing.

For a few moments, you simply watched him, taking in the details — the tousled hair, the relaxed features, the way his arms held you close as if unwilling to let go.

But it was when your gaze shifted to his face that you were truly captivated. The soft morning light cast a gentle glow upon his features, accentuating the curve of his lips and the peaceful expression that graced his features in slumber.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was mesmerising, a reminder that even the most powerful could find solace in the embrace of dreams. His lips, which had quirked into countless smiles and sly grins, now held an air of serenity, their subtle curve almost poetic against the canvas of his face.

And as you continued to watch him, a rush of tenderness swept over you. It was a rare privilege, to witness the vulnerability of a man who often wore his strength like armour. In this moment, there was no grandeur, no pretence — just Satoru Gojo, as he truly was.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the man who held your heart, even in his unconscious state. His beauty was not just in his striking appearance, but in the way he made you feel — safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

As if sensing your gaze, Satoru stirred, his eyes slowly opening. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he met your gaze, his hold on you never wavering.

"Good morning," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur.

"Good morning," you replied, your voice soft and filled with a mixture of emotions.

He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he leaned in. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss, a sweet affirmation of the connection that had formed between you.

When he pulled back, his gaze held a warmth that reached deep into your heart. "How did you sleep?"

You smiled, your heart fluttering in response to the tenderness in his gaze. "Better than I've slept in a while."

His smile deepened, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm glad to hear that."

As you settled back against him, his embrace felt like home — a place of comfort and safety, of shared laughter and whispered promises. And as you closed your eyes, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek, you couldn't help but think that sometimes, the most cherished moments were the ones that took you by surprise, leading you to a connection that felt both extraordinary and right.

I’m in such a brainrot for this man. the power he holds over my thoughts even if he's fictional is just immaculate

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk #jjk fics #penguwrites #jjk imagines #gojo x drunk!reader #gojo x teacher!reader #teacher!reader au

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luv4fandoms · 1 year

Note

Think about the lost boys just coming right behind you and just sniffing you deeply into your neck and hair

Brain would just short circuit, like whaaaaa. I mean I'd take it as a compliment that a being with a super high sense of smell enjoys my scent but also, holy sh*t that seemed intimate lol.

Paul

Paul does this a lot anyways

By far the most touchy of the group

Like even before he and you become mates

The first time he did it (not long after meeting them) it flustered the hell out of you

404 error

He had just walked up behind you one night while you were standing there talking to Marko, wrapped his arms around your middle, pulled you in, and leaned down to bury his nose in your neck.

You just stood there like 😶, which caused the boys to start laughing.

"Paulie" you spoke after a moment

"Yeah Sugar?" He'd ask, and you could feel the smile against your skin.

"Whatcha doing?"

*Cue Paul moaning, making you even more flustered. Something he took note of*

"You just smell so good" he'd tell you, and yup, you were a goner

After finding out about them being vamps it became even more flustering.

Like knowing that a vampire enjoys your scent enough to not kill you is awesome

But when said vampire enjoys sniffing (which often leads to licking) you every time he can get his hands on you.

Flustering.as.hell

Trying to clean up the cave?

Paul appears out of nowhere to pull you towards him for a sniff.

Sitting on the couch?

Bam suddenly Paul.

Walking by the couch while he is sitting on it?

Pulls you into his lap.

Already in bed?

Cuddle fest right? Boy would fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Like I said, Paul is touchy, he's loving, and he's a cuddle bug. Period.

Marko

The first time Marko did it was genuine

You had used your new peppermint shampoo that night and Marko had found himself instantly drawn to the scent.

He could smell it across the cave and it felt like the combination of it mixed with your own scent was just drawing him in.

*cue cartoon character floating along following the scent*

You were sitting on the couch, turned sideways to get a better look at the fountain, which was currently the subject of your sketch.

When he slowly sat behind you, careful not to make you make unneeded marks on the page.

And just...*buries face, and deep sniff against the hair that covered the back of your neck*

*cue you almost shooting up off of the couch if his arm hadn't quickly wrapped around your middle*

"Marko what the hell?!?" You asked but you were glad he couldn't see your extremely red face.

"Sorry Cutie, you just smell so good" he smiled.

Marko would also be a little teasing shit

Often sniffing your neck as he held you close

And when you'd squirm because of how flustered it made you, he'd just give you that shit eating grin and ask.

"What's wrong my little juice box?"

Dwayne

Your scent was one of the first things that attracted him to you that night on the boardwalk.

He could smell the mixture of florals and your own intoxicating scent from a mile away.

He would never say it out loud but your scent grounds and comforts him.

Just because he's the quiet one doesn't mean he doesn't have shit going on upstairs.

Sometimes he does get stressed, or just annoyed with the group.

But your scent just melts that all away and makes his brain quiet.

The first time it happened the group had been rowdier than normal

Fresh kills under their belt, even if it had been close calls of getting caught.

Marko and Paul were being especially loud, getting Laddie to join in on the fun.

David had this very tense aura about him, no doubt aware of the close call.

And Dwayne...Dwayne had retreated to the couch in the far corner, almost completely concealed in the shadows, but his aura was just...stressed.

You slowly made your way over to him and asked if he was ok, watching as he looked up at you for a long moment.

You knew he wasn't the talking type, so you figured that look was a simple "leave me alone".

Giving him a sad smile you just nodded and turned to leave.

Before you felt your body quickly move backwards.

Strong arms wrapped around your middle while your back pressed against his chest.

He quickly buried his nose in your hair and neck, breathing your scent in deeply and letting it calm him.

You on the other hand were beyond flustered and a blushing mess, heart racing.

"Stay for a bit?" He asked, if you would have said no he would let you go, as hard as it would be.

"Ok" you replied, feeling the smile against your neck before feeling him bury his entire face against your hair, arms tightening a bit.

David

David would never let on how much your scent affected him.

Like he acts like he couldn't be bothered

When in fact your scent makes his brain both short circuit and go into overdrive

Honestly he hates it

Hates that he has a hard time controlling himself around you, because he needs control.

But every time you come around...404 error.

He hides it well though, the boys don't know after all, nor do they or you need to know.

But sometimes it gets harder to control

Some days he thinks about just pulling you to him and never letting you go

And one day that intrusive thought won out.

You had been cleaning up the cave, a task he had told you didn't matter, but you insisted.

Saying that sure they might trip over something and it didn't matter, but you might and break a bone.

A fact that he didn't want to happen so he let you clean.

And watched as you picked up Laddie's toys that you had bought him, as well as things the boys had left lying around.

Speaking of, the boys had gone off to the boardwalk with Laddie and Star, leaving the two of you alone.

By now only your scent filled the cave due to your slight sweat from cleaning

And it was driving.him.mad

The snapping point was when you passed in front of him too close, your scent completely washing over him, and the next thing you knew you were sat in his lap on his throne.

His nose buried against the hair that covered the back of your neck

Breathing deeply and releasing the breath in a low growl.

The action completely flustered you

Like holy shit wtf? Also please don't stop.

Because David didn't give you this kind of attention

Even though deep down you had been begging the universe for him to.

"D-David?" You asked after a moment, voice unsure, and being met with a tighter grip against your middle.

"Yes?" He asked easily before burying his nose against just your bare neck after moving your hair aside.

"W-What are you doing?"

"Nothing" he told you with another low growl, causing your mouth to clamp shut.

"Ok"

You sat there, slowly relaxing in his hold as he buried his nose against your skin more, slowly rubbing circles against your stomach.

Honestly it felt really good to be held by him, you felt extremely protected.

Almost enough to lull you into a light sleep.

Until you heard the next word he whispered.

"Mine"

I hope you like these ☺️. I know I definitely wouldn't be complaining if any of these fine gentlemen did this to me lol

928 notes · View notes

whitedarkmoonflower · 9 months

Note

to give you that little push; I'd like to request a modern!Sihtric x reader where they are reunited after a long time apart. the rest is all you! ;)

Authors note: it all started with the ask, whether I accept modern!Sihtric requests, that left me deeply thoughtful whether I am really up to it. So thank you so much, my dear @sihtricfedaraaahvicius for giving me that little push and setting me on this short, but very intensive journey.

My very first Modern!Sihtric x reader fic.

Warnings: fluff, quite suggestive on the borderline with getting smutty, heartbreak, abuse of alcohol

Summary: see the request, although I have a slight feeling you had something different in mind, when you requested this.

Word Count: 3,748

Part 2

“Please, fasten your seat belt; we are landing,” a voice intruded upon your tranquil nap, jolting you awake. You rubbed your eyes, struggling to comprehend the source of the voice and your whereabouts.

“Thank you,” you murmured slowly, fumbling around trying to locate and secure your seat belt, your head still dizzy. You flinched as the airplane thudded onto the runway with a slight bump, rebounded gently, and then smoothly taxied to a stop at the parking position.

“Fuck! So fast…” you swore silently to yourself. In truth you did not want to get off that plane. You remained seated until the final passenger had exited before rising to retrieve your hand luggage. The irritated looks, masked under a polite smile, that flight attendants were casting at you, did not make you to move faster. You had no reason to hurry, so you took your time. Your head was tucked into the collar of your oversized sweater, its sleeves engulfing your hands. Your rucksack hung haphazardly over your shoulder, giving you the appearance of a turtle, save for the fact that even a turtle might have traversed the distance to the front door more swiftly.

“Have a nice evening, ma’am,” the flight attendant beamed at you as you walked past. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn't respond. It had been five years. Five fucking years since you left on what was meant to be a two-week summer course in the other part of the world and ended up staying there for a half decade. This had been one in a million opportunity, a scholarship and admission to one of the world’s best design schools combined with an offer to work for a renowned fashion house after graduation. Only a fool would have rejected it, and you were so close to doing just that.

---------------------------------

“Hey, sweetheart, I’ve missed you! How are you doing? How was your flight?” Sihtric’s smiling face greeted you from the screen of your phone.

“Everything’s fine, I’ve missed you too!” you replied, your smile tinged with sleepiness. Glancing at the clock, you noted that it was 9 a.m., which translated to around 7 p.m. at Sihtric's location. Jet lag hadn't quite released its grip on you yet.

“I love you sweety and I miss you terribly. It is so lonely without you here,” Sihtric’s voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“I love you too, handsome! Just two weeks to go and I’ll be back home,” your drowsy gaze drifted once again to the clock. "Damn! It's already 9:00. I've got my first classes in thirty minutes! I need to hurry!" With an exclamation, you leapt out of bed, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

You had met Sihtric just a month before at a party hosted by your best friend Gisela, who was celebrating the opening of her very own studio and art gallery. You had never believed in the love at the first sight, deeming it ridiculous and impossible to fall for someone you hardly knew. Yet, that’s exactly what had happened to you the moment you laid eyes on Sihtric. Seated on the sofa, gingerly sipping your gin and tonic, you nearly choked on your drink as your gaze widened, registering a striking dark-haired young man entering the room. The slightly snug black t-shirt and skinny jeans he wore accentuated his remarkably well-built body. Swallowing hard, your eyes remained glued to his face, tracing his sharp features, pronounced cheekbones, straight nose, and big expressive eyes. His moustache and short beard, covering his chin, only added to his rugged and strong presence. Gisela introduced you, and before you knew it, you had spent the entire evening sitting on the sofa with him, joking, laughing, telling anecdotes from your studies – you had studied fashion design — and raptly listening to his tales. He was a photographer and had journeyed across the globe for his job and passion, collaborating and doing shootings with various celebrities and amassing countless amusing stories to share. With each passing minute, you marvelled more and more why on earth this intelligent, breathtakingly handsome, and evidently talented man had decided to spend his evening chatting with you.

You lived just a few blocks away from the gallery and after the party Sihtric immediately offered to accompany you home, unwilling to let you wander the streets alone at such a late hour.

“Thank you for the stunning evening,” Sihtric said, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss upon it as you both stood at the entrance of your apartment building.

“Stunning?” you raised your eyebrow in disbelief. The idea that someone could describe an evening spent chatting with you as stunning seemed far-fetched.

“Yeah, stunning. I can't even recall when I last had so much fun," Sihtric's face drew near, his breath grazing your skin and quickening your heartbeat.

“Fuck, does he want to come upstairs?” a thought raced through your mind, but there was this age-old rule on not having sex with someone on the first date lingering in your consciousness. “To hell with the rules, I want him – even if it would be just a one-night stand. Common, handsome, kiss me!” you silently urged, feeling a shiver tracing your spine as Sihtric’s thumb gently caressed your cheek. His gaze bore into you, as if searching for a sign.

“You’re incredibly sweet and beautiful,” Sihtric whispered in your ear. His lips touched yours in the most gentle, tender kiss – the softest, you’d ever had. You closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into that delicate kiss, a pleasant lightheadedness enveloping you.

“Sweet dreams, lovely!” Sihtric’s voice brought you back to reality as he hesitantly pulled away. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“What?” your mind slowly registered the words you just heard, “No, wait!” you wanted to speak, but as you opened your eyes, he was already gone. “What the fuck? Was it a dream? Why did he leave? What did I do wrong?” Countless thoughts and emotions whirled in your mind as you ascended to your apartment, disappointment prevailing. You were convinced, you’d never see him again. He didn’t even have your number; how could he call? You were angry at yourself, believing you’d ruined everything, not knowing what exactly you have done wrong, but being sure it was you.

The greater was your surprise, when you received an early morning call from Gisela the following day.

“Hey there! How are you?” your friend’s ever cheerful voice came through the phone. “Guess what? I just gave your number to Sihtric. You must have made quite an impression on him. He woke me up at 6.00 a.m. today, to ask for your number, miserable that he hadn’t asked you for it. Can you believe it– 6.00 a.m.?”

“What?” you weren’t fully awake yet.

“Don’t mess this up, honey! He’s a catch! See you at lunch tomorrow; I want all the details!” Gisela hung up, leaving you staring at your phone, trying to grasp, what you’d just heard.

So, Sihtric did call, and the next day you had your first real date. You fell for him swift and hard. Being with Sihtric felt like a wild ride on a rollercoaster. He was impulsive and spontaneous breakneck, loving extreme sports like kiting and skydiving. Spontaneously embarking on a mountain photoshoot idea and heading there within minutes, leaving everything else behind, was totally normal for him. Yet, toward you, he was the embodiment of care and sweetness, a stark contrast to his impulsive, daring nature.

You had never had a lover like him before, so attentive, gentle, and eager to satisfy you. With him you felt like a goddess each time. You could still recall the tender touch of his lips on your skin, the delicate kisses covering every inch of your body. The brush of his fingers against your breasts, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His ragged breath against your neck as he purred sweet praises into your ear, while holding you tightly and thrusting deeply into you, evoking the moans of delight and pleasure from you, arching your back against the mattress.

You’d never been so deeply in love with someone, nor had your heart ever before been so broken as you read the message on your phone exactly one week after your arrival in your destination for the long-planned summer courses. The previous day had been already quite a mess. Your call with Gisela ended up with a quarrel. You had never expected her to react like that. You had shown your sketches to classmates, one of whom turned out to be the daughter of a renowned designer, just moved here to work for a major fashion house. This had led to you being invited to a meeting with the manager of the fashion house, offering you an admission to a top design school along with a scholarship in exchange for a five-year post-graduation contract as a designer for the house. You had declined the offer and just shared the whole unbelievable story with Gisela.

“Are you out of your mind” she shouted at you, incredulous. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you’re considering giving it up for what? A guy, you’ve been seeing for less than a month! You must be insane! What’s his take on all this?”

“I haven’t talked to him about it, and I don’t intend to. I don’t want him to be involved or to feel responsible for a choice that’s solely mine to make. He might try to convince me to accept the offer, but I don’t want that. I don’t believe in long-distance relationships, and we’re not at that point to experiment with something like that. I love him, Gisela. I don’t want to lose him. I want to go back and see where this relationship takes us,” you tried to argue with your friend, receiving only and annoyed scoff in return.

Gisela was not in a mood to give up. She was resolved to put some sense back in your love blurred mind and kept arguing with you, until you were completely fed up with her.

“I’ve made up my mind, and it’s final, Gisela!” you shouted, ending the call frustrated.

Next morning you woke up with a throbbing headache. You had slept badly, your mind twirling around Gisela’s words. You knew she meant it only good, but you stood firm in your choice. A message notification jolted you, making you smile. It was from Sihtric, you knew it instantly by the ringtone you had set for him.

As you read the message, your smile froze mid-blossom. The words hit you like a freight train: «I’m sorry, but it’s over. It’s time for both of us to move on. I’ve found someone else. » Your phone slipped from your grip, clattering onto the floor. You couldn’t believe what you saw. It was impossible, it couldn’t be real. You snatched your phone back up, your fingers trembling as you pushed the call button.

No response.

You called again, and again, and again. Still no answer. With a loud scream you hurled your phone against the wall. Face buried in your pillow, you started to cry uncontrollably. You lost track of how many times you'd dialed, texted, and cried, but there was no response. He did not even read your messages. Finally, you gave up. Your world had crumbled into thousand small pieces, your silly dreams shattered, and your heart ached. The next two days you spent crying in your small dormitory room. You did not care for the courses, you were unable to make yourself get up and dress, not even speaking about seeing other people. It was on the third day that you were sitting at the table and sipping your umpteenth cup of coffee, that your gaze landed on papers strewn in a corner. The admission letter and scholarship application form lay there, untouched. A rush of emotions urged you to rip them apart, yet something held you back. Tears coursing down your cheeks, you seized a pen and hastily began filling out the form. There was nothing left to return to. The mere thought of returning home, potentially encountering Sihtric and his new love interest, churned your stomach with disgust. Thus, you stayed.

Five years immersed in studies and working as a designer in your dream fashion house. And now you were coming home, although you did not think of it that way anymore. You had been sent to overlook the opening of the new shop and had to stay there for at least half a year to make everything set and running. Half a year felt like an eternity, especially as just before boarding the plane, you learned the name of the photographer that had been hired to shoot the first catalogue – Sihtric Kjartansson. With a heavy sigh, you took a tentative step onto the bridge and began the slow walk toward the exit.

---------------------------------------------------

“You have to do something about it!” Gisela rushed into Sihtric’s apartment in complete bewilderment bursting out the whole story about the scholarship and contract in one single breath, “It is her chance, Sihtric! She is so talented, and she’s ready to give it all up because of you. Can’t you see? She’s sacrificing her entire future, everything she has ever dreamed about! If you truly love her, you can’t let this happen. Please, tell me you won’t let it happen,” she sank onto the sofa and looked at Sihtric with pleading eyes.

“You know I love her, Gisela, but what are you expecting me to do?” Sihtric asked taken aback by Gisela’s sudden intrusion, attempting to piece together what she was telling him.

“You have to end your relationship with her,” the response was so unforeseen that Sihtric found himself speechless for a moment.

“Excuse me, I have to do what?” he finally managed to articulate, still trying to comprehend Gisela's proposal.

“You have to break up with her. That’s the only way. She will not listen to you otherwise. She does not believe in long-distance relationships and will refuse to stay there anyway.”

-----------------------------------

Sihtric’s phone vibrated again, signalling an incoming call. Seated in his kitchen, head resting on his hands, he wrestled with the urge to answer. It was the fifth time already. He was aware who was calling and knew that, if he did pick up, he wouldn’t be able to repeat the words he’d typed to you just an hour ago. It was a lie. A lie, he immediately regretted upon hitting the send button. But it was done, and you had read it. He knew he had broken your heart, something he'd been so certain he would never do to you. There was no turning back now. Even if he did answer and tried to explain his motives behind the cruel message, there would always be a crack between you, caused by the pain he knew his message had inflicted. He had lost you. He had pushed you away and had done it willingly, for your own good. He loved you too much to allow you to through away your future for him.

As silly as it might sound, he’d fallen for you from the very first moment he saw you. He hadn’t wanted to come to the party. Gisela had hinted that she wanted to introduce him to someone. Her persistent obsession to fix the love life of her friends was sweet but annoying. Yet, the instant she introduced you, Sihtric felt a rush of gratitude for changing his mind. He liked everything about you – your delicate and captivating face, the sparkle in your eyes, your full and inviting lips, your thick, curly, dark brown hair cascading onto your shoulders, and above all, your stunning and breath-taking smile. You were funny and smart, your demeanour so natural and unpretentious, as he found out within mere hours. He did not even notice how the hours passed, as he was slowly drowning in your beautiful eyes, listening to your infectious laughter and your soft voice.

Desire raged within him, his jeans chafing painfully as he leaned in for a kiss that night. However, for the first time ever, he didn’t wish to rush events, fearing he could scare you off and ruin everything. He was not into a single night crush, he wanted to truly get to know you. It was your third date that he realised he couldn’t suppress his longing anymore.

“Can I invite you for a drink at my place?” he asked upon leaving the cosy Italian restaurant he’d chosen for the evening. It was so obvious what was on his mind, his look so full of desire as his eyes slowly undressed you. He licked his lips lustfully as all he could think in that moment was how you will look naked on his bed, him placing soft kisses down your body. His lips almost did not leave yours from the moment you both got into the taxi until he unlocked the doors of his apartment, his hands starting to pull up your dress as soon as you stepped into the room.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, drinking in the sight of your almost naked body, his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra.

A gratifying groan escaped his lips, his breath literally taken away by the irresistible pulchritude before him, as moments later he had you fully undressed on his bed, exactly as he had imagined it before. Pinning your arms above your head, he planted fervent kisses, tracing every contour, every curve and line of your body with his tongue. He’d imagined this every night since you first met – how he will ignite and arouse you, how he will kiss and pleasure you, making you crave for him beyond imaginable. Your response to his touch, fiery and eager, trusting and passionate, intoxicated him. As he finally pushed his hard length into you, he felt there was no greater delight in this world than feeling your walls clench around him, observing ecstasy pool in your half-lidded eyes, your hips dancing against his, your body quivering under his touch, and your spine arching against the mattress in pleasure he and only he was able to bestow upon you. And as you fell asleep in his embrace, nestled against his chest, he was sure he wanted to keep you, keep you forever.

But it was over now. Sihtric poured another glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. He was heavily drunk by now. His phone lay on the table, vibrating again. A message from you. He could see it appearing shortly on the locked screen. The fifth one this evening, amidst the dozen calls, he’d ignored. It was overwhelming. He couldn't endure it any longer. He had to respond, to clarify that the message had been a terrible misunderstanding. That absurd message was his fault, and he was ready to atone for it, whatever it would take, but he craved you back urgently, desperately. Sihtric reached out for his phone, but it slipped out of his numb fingers, landing on the kitchen’s stone floor with a resounding crash. When he finally managed to retrieve it, his face contorted in despair. The entire display was fractured, resembling a spider's web, and was unresponsive to his touch. A loud curse erupted as he flung the useless device against the wall before collapsing back into his chair. Reaching for the whiskey bottle, his fingers closed around its neck, bringing it to his lips. The fiery liquid surged down his throat in relentless gulps, until the bottle was empty and in the next moment it also flew against the wall, shattering into countless shards.

------------------------------------------------------

"Good morning!" your assistant's cheery voice welcomed you as you entered the pavilion, now transformed for the photo shoot. "Everything's set. The photographer arrived early this morning and had us reconfigure the entire pavilion, but you'll be pleased with the changes. We're quite fortunate – we managed to book Sihtric Kjartansson. He's truly the best and most sought-after fashion photographer right now."

The sound of that name sent a shiver down your spine. Images of Sihtric's face, engraved in your mind, surfaced – the memory of your last goodbye at the airport, thinking that you will meet again in two weeks. His gentle kiss on your forehead, the warmth of his hug, his soft words in your ear, "I'll miss you, sweetheart. You mean the world to me." How foolish you had been to believe it all. To think that you were more than just a fleeting diversion, discarded and replaced after just one week apart. Anger surged within you, wrapping around you like an armour, giving you the strength, you needed to endure this day, as you entered the shooting hall and saw the familiar silhouette behind the camera, his back turned to you.

“Good morning, everybody!” you called out, straining your voice, but it was not necessary – there was nobody else there in the whole hall. Sihtric turned, his expression shifting from annoyance to utter bewilderment, his eyes widening as they locked onto you.

“Hi!” you managed to force through gritted teeth, your body stiff in tension that was taking over you. Those five years hadn’t changed a thing. He was still painfully handsome, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from him. Worse yet, you still desired him. You both just stared at each other unable to say anything until Sihtric finally found his voice.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Sihtric greeted, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring his face. “What a surprise! Haven’t seen you in a while. Precisely five years, two months, and five days,” he added, his face flushing as he realised, he had unconsciously used his favourite nickname for you and his precise time calculation felt so awkward and out of place, that he instantly wished to dissolve into the ear if that would only be possible.

You did not notice anything of it. You barely registered his words beyond the unfortunate "sweetheart," that made your heart skip a beat, stirring an overwhelming blend of love and hatred within you. The conflicting emotions surged through your veins, blurring your vision, and before he could see the tears forming in your eyes, you turned on your heels and stormed out of the hall, knocking over a coffee table in your path, and never once looking back.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric x reader #sihtric fic #tlk fic #tlk fanfic #sihtric fanfic #sihtric x you

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second-axis-point · 1 year

Note

Can you make a fanfic with Javier where he asks you to marry him and you have amazing engagement sex? Lots of I love you's and kisses during the sex as well!

Could be top or bottom Javier but I'd really love it if it was bottom Javier

Thank you in advanced!!

Pairing: Javier Peña x Male!Reader

Warning: None!

Content: Smut, Subby!Javier

I don’t write smut very often so I hope this is alright, thanks for the request!! 😉P.S. I remember absolutely zero Spanish from school so any used, which will be very little, is from google translate. I'm sorry to all the spanish speakers out there🥲

Will You?

All you wanted to do after getting home from the office was sit down with a beer and enjoy Javier’s company. You closed the front door to see him sitting on the couch, staring off out the windows. He was bouncing his knee, a nervous habit that he had picked up from you. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway. He stood up and made his way over to you, hands in his pockets.

“Welcome home estimado”

He gave you a quick peck on the lips and walked back to the couch. You followed him and sat down next to him.

“What's going on? You look a bit distant.”

He looked you in the eye but said nothing. After a moment of silence he suddenly got to his feet, digging around in his pocket. He pulled out a silver band and dropped down to his knees. He looked more nervous than you've ever seen him before.

“Mi amor, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been with anyone.”

It seemed like he had more to say but didn’t, instead getting straight to the point.

“Will you marry me?”

There it was. You cracked a huge smile and leaned to take his face between your hands.

“Of course I will.”

He lit up like the sun. He jumped back up to his feet, pulling you with him. Rings were exchanged before he kissed you fervently. He kissed you like his life depended on it. You felt the back of your knees hit the couch, almost causing you to topple back down. He grabbed you closer and pulled you into his chest.

“We should probably take this to the bedroom.’

You mumbled against his lips. He nodded and started walking backwards towards the bedroom. Once you reached it, you gently tossed him down on the bed. His back hit the mattress and you yanked your jacket and shirt off before joining him on the bed. You kissed every inch of skin you could, reaching up under his shirt and running your hands down his torso.

Javier squirms under you. You mark his neck with lovebites and move downward until you’re obstructed by his shirt collar. Yanking it off, you continue down his torso, making him beg you to stop teasing him. But you had just started.

You shushed him and kept on. Kissing and marking down his frame until you reached his waistband. You looked up, waiting for permission to continue. Javier nodded his head rapidly, his face a flattering shade of pink. You smiled at him and sat up. You kissed him lightly while unfastening his belt and unbuttoning his trousers. He shuffles out of them and kicks them off. The tent in his pants now blatantly obvious. You avoid touching him there, teasing him. You ran your hands over his chest, stomach, hips, and thighs.

“Plea- please amor.”

He begged and writhed underneath your touch.

“Please what, mi querido Javi?”

Javier whimpered and grabbed at your back.

“Fuck me, please plea-”

You interrupted him by biting at his collar bone. You ran your hand down to his boxers and slipped your fingers inside. You grasped his aching cock and slowly stroked upward. Javier’s eyes fluttered as he moaned. You kissed him, relishing in the small noises he made as you jerked him off.

“My sweet Javi. Look at you. So pretty in the sunlight. My handsome fiancé.”

Your teasing touch on his cock was driving Javier insane. He was putty in your hands. You took your hand away, only for a moment, to strip him of his boxers as well as the rest of your clothing. You reached down into your bedside table and pulled out a tube of lube. You slicked your fingers and leaned back down.

“Keep going-”

Javier painted in your ear. You kissed along his jaw as you slipped one digit inside him. He moaned loudly and tossed his head back. You pushed your finger in and out of Javier, continuing to kiss and lick his neck and jaw. You added another finger, causing him to pant louder, begging you for more.

“Shh, my beautiful Javier. You're okay, amor.”

He just nodded and leaned into your touch. You added one more finger, stretching him slowly. Once you felt he was prepped, you removed your fingers and reached back for the lube. Javier squirmed as you pulled away. You snapped the cap open once more and lubed up your hard dick. You turned to see Javier stroking himself fervently. You grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head. You lined yourself up with him and carefully pushed in. Javier winced slightly and you stilled.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, screwing his eyes shut. You brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead and kissed his nose.

“I’m going to need you to say it, love.”

“Yes please, keep going-”

He begged. You continued, pushing in slowly, until you were fully inside him. He dug his nails into your back as you rolled your hips, leaving blazing trails across your shoulder blades. You groaned and pulled almost completely out of him before rocking back in. You kept a slow pace, pulling out and slamming back in. Javier mewled, asking you to go faster. You had given up with the teasing, you wanted to make him cum.

“You’re doing so well for me, amor.”

Javier babbled incoherently as you quickened your pace. You felt the white hot coil building inside your stomach. Javier was groaning in your ear. You quickened your pace once again and reached one hand down to grab his cock. You jerked in time with your thrusts. You continued for only about a minute before his cries got louder. Javier arched his back and threw his head back into the mattress as he came into your hand. You followed close behind, vision blurring as you came in your fiancé.

After a moment, the two of you finally came down from your highs. You heard him whine slightly as you carefully pulled out. You took a second to admire your work. Hickeys spread across his neck and chest, face a pretty pink, and the complete lack of tension in his shoulders.

“Shower?”

He shook his head.

“No, I just want to stay like this for a bit.”

You huffed but laid back down beside him. He crawled on top of you and rested his head on your chest.

“Fine, but you're washing the sheets.”

You felt him shrug and kiss your collarbone. You hummed and laid your head back, enjoying the quiet moment with your soon-to-be husband.

Sorry this took so long! 😅

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x male reader #javier pena x you #male reader #male reader insert #reader insert #x male reader #x reader #narcos #i love pedro pascal #request

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whoppert · 2 months

Text

Sunna 9 (loki/reader) (stephen strange/reader)

◂ previous chapter first chapter ▴

4499 words

warnings: the after effects of mind violation; canon-typical violence.

AO3 Masterpost

“You said you could handle Stephen,” I whisper at Wong as we descend into the undercroft. The two of us had fallen behind the god and Sorcerer Supreme, who are too busy pointedly ignoring each other to take notice of us.

“And you believed me?” Wong replies, clutching onto my arm as I wobble down the steps. “When have I ever been able to control him?”

Stephen had insisted on staying while Loki worked went into my mind, though I would have preferred if he had left us, since he had done little but argue with Asgardian, the methods and place and magic, he'd had a problem with all of it. It had been especially bad when Loki had mentioned the terms 'diagnostic' and 'exploratory', suggesting that there may be need for more than one session. I hadn't been able to bring myself to speak. It had gotten heated enough that Wong made the final call and they'd both shut up, glaring at each other. They agree on a method Loki explains something about the layers to the mind, but I'm mostly too nervous and ashamed to say anything.

AO3

The curving stone stairs spiral downwards. The four of us had mostly trudged in silence, minus the whispering between Wong and I. Stephen is still brooding and still unable to look at me. My gut knotted uncomfortably every time the sorcerer came into my line of vision. I couldn't shake this sinking feeling that I had ruined our friendship as I knew it. Between the kiss and this betrayal...

Loki reaches the door to the undercroft first, throwing it open and disappearing. Stephen soon follows, and I pause, allowing Wong to enter before me. I'm just about to pass through the doorway when I hear a voice behind me.

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Turning on my heels, I found Loki a few steps behind me, illuminated by the golden light at the entrance on the stairwell. When I don’t move, he takes a cautious step down closer to me, empty hands outstretched in peace as though he wasn’t a weapon in his own right. “We already started the spell, remember?” His voice is more tender than I'd thought him capable of. “You’ve attached your psyche to the last memory before you went under,” and he gestures behind me to the door.

Following his direction, I glance at the door to the undercroft, and found it closed, though Wong certainly wouldn’t have shut it on me. My eyebrows furrow. Loki’s outfit had changed. He had arrived in Asgardian robes, a green cloak over dark leather and adorned in gold jewellery, but the Loki above me had ditched the finery in favor of jet black trousers and a matching belted overcoat that worked for the autumn winds outside.

Now that Loki had mentioned it I was getting a sense of déjà vu.

I believe him, recalling the rules that Stephen had outlined for me in the moments before I'd gone under: firstly, the only safe way to view a new memory is to go through a door; and secondly, though he had looked troubled at the concept, Stephen had expressly warned me not to leave Loki’s side.

“Let's get this over with.” I step off the bottom stair. “Where do we start?”

“We go through the door,” Loki replies, reaching past me to twist the knob, pushing it open. “After you.”

There was a dead body in the Sanctum’s Weird Hallway.

Despite what you might expect, Memory-Me doesn’t scream. It was just a body - confronting, for sure, but at that point, I'd been at the Sanctum for a couple of months, well, it's called the Weird Hallway for a reason. The hallway isn't there all the time, appearing as a new door off of the kitchen every now and again and to be perfectly truthful, in the desiccated state it was in, I didn't think a dead body posed much of a threat.

Walking half the length of the hall, Memory-Me approaches watchful, but calm. The eyes are open and visibly dry, the skin on his eyelids stretched thin. Completely and utterly dead.

And yet, an eyeball swivels to observe me.

That’s when I'd screamed.

The body pulls itself up.

My knees just give out, and I regain control of them just in time to stop me from completely collapsing, but instead Memory-Me is sent shoulder-first into the nearest wall.

“Hey,” Memory-Stephen must have heard me cry out. “Are you-? Oh. Shit.” As soon as Stephen and the corpse noticed each other, a new energy had been renewed in the rotted body and it leapt to its feet with surprising vigor.

This is the fifth memory we've had to watch and it hasn’t been any more helpful than the others.

“This is useless,” I shove my hands in my pockets.

Loki sighed, rolling his eyes, talking slowly like I'm a toddler. “Your memories are leading us where we need to go.”

“They’ve led us nowhere.”

“It’s a process,” he groans, sauntering up to the door that Stephen and the zombie had disappeared through, wrenching it open. “Do I challenge you in your areas of expertise?”

“Yes! You do. Consistently.” I stomped passed him into the next memory. “I’ve met you twice before and both times you challenged my comprehension like I was an idiot. I have fucking brain, you absolute jackass.”

“I never said you were an idiot! I only imply it.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to kill you-”

“I have to tell you something,” Memory-Wong stands in front of me, blocking access to Stephen’s office.

“Come on Wong, I’m in a rush, I need to get my book back. The museum is gonna kill me if they find out I snuck out a manuscript.”

“He can't be disturbed-”

Memory-Me huffs impatiently. I was sleep-deprived from cataloguing sanctum artefacts. “I don’t care what Stephen's doing in there! I don’t have time for this, I’m going to be late for my shift. Kellye told me not to be late again.”

“Even so, I need to-”

Wong hadn’t anticipated that I would actually push past him.

I'd burst through the door to find Stephen deep in meditation, legs crossed yogi-style, hands in his lap, eyes shut, and hovering three feet above the floor.

His eyes fly open, including the third, which promptly vanishes as Stephen falls on his ass on the floor, letting out a yelp of pain or surprise or both.

“What the actual fuck?"

Loki doesn’t bother to hold back his laugh as we observe the fifteenth memory.

I'd long grown tired of his constant conversation. Recalling the exercises Stephen had given me to practice strengthening my mind when I first started training with him, I decide to make a list of Loki’s qualities to see if I can recall them all later. Right at the top of my list, I imagine the word ‘aggravating' in big looping letters.

“Thought a prince would have been taught better manners than to laugh at other’s misfortune. Distasteful.” My arms fold across my chest. Irritating. Annoying.

“Of course! Forgive me my haughty attitude,” his voice is rich with sarcasm. Loki leans on the memory-table. I'm surprised it's solid. “Because Strange has never held back the opportunity to make a joke out of me. So composed. So gracious, your Sorcerer Supreme.”

I bite my tongue. He's not wrong. “Why do you two hate each other so much?”

“‘Hate’ is a strong word,” Loki’s mouth stretches into a wide smile, as he checks his manicure. “Highly accurate though. And little of your business.” Avoidant.

Behind us, the people in my memory are having an argument about magic and this takes my attention away from Loki. I watch as I pick a fight with my friends. To be fair to my passed self, my anger wasn’t directed at them, it was the result of a series of unfortunate incidents all in a row. At the time I was exhausted, late for work and in fear of the repercussions, and I had just discovered that I wasn’t alone, that others held magic too.

I have a rather explosive approach to emotions.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me- don't you think you should warn potential housemates that your a fucking witch?"

"Sorcerers," Stephen and Wong correct in unison.

"Both of you?!"

"Secrets, secrets," Loki muses.

“I moved in a week before that,” I say, more to myself than anything.

Loki perks up at the comment, his shoulders squaring, “how long had you known them?”

I shrug, “by now, almost a year, I think.”

“But how long before you moved in with them?”

“Two or three months, why?”

Loki is silent. I can't tell what he's thinking.

"What?" I ask.

Memory-Stephen performs a series of gestures, a crack in reality forming, the entrance to the Mirror Dimension. The three of us stepped through, vanishing.

Am I I just realizing now that I never called in sick to the museum that day? I can't believe Kellye didn't hand my ass to me on a platter.

Loki approached the crack to the Mirror Dimension, indicating for me to follow, but I hesitate. “Stephen said only to go through doors.”

“He also said to follow me,” Loki replies, disappearing through the crack, leaving me little choice but to follow.

Rather than entering the mirror dimension, we step straight into another new fresh memory.

Memory-Me writhed in bed, gasping for air. It was the night after Stephen had found me, after Loki had turned my brain into ham and pea soup.

“Hurry up, my dear,” says the voice from my dreams, echoing around the room. “You would not do well to have to join me in my clouded cage.”

My memory flings the sheet off of herself, launching out of bed with barely enough sense to put on some pajama shorts before rushing off to Stephen's room.

I freeze in place, blushing at my memory's lack of clothing. To his credit, Loki turns his gaze away from the sight, just a gentlemanly dip of his head.

The door shuts behind my fleeing figure.

With a wave of his hand, Loki causes the scene to start again.

“What are you doing?” He had not done this to any of the other memories.

The memory is paused in the beginning, capturing my face in a panicked expression.

“There is a magical presence in your dream,” Loki says. A wave of green washed outwards from him, illuminating the previously invisible purple energy. It is centered around Memory-Me, but the steady flow is crawling in from the open window.

“It looks like…” I hesitate. I'm scared to be wrong, but it looked like-

“Your magical signature.” Loki frowns. He looks bothered. “Any idea about why it’s coming to you from an external source?”

“I barely know my own name at this point, why would you think I'd have an answer to that." If the floor could swallow me up, I would have begged it to. I know nothing. About my magic, about magical in general, nothing more than the bits and pieces I had picked up from Stephen and Wong. How embarrassing it is to realize you are simple in the presence of a god. “You’ve been in my head, you probably know me better than I do. I don’t know anything about this stuff.”

There is a prolonged silence, in which Loki watches me and I make eye contact with anything but him.

“Well," he begins, "the following is a generalization, but magical signatures are like radio frequencies. My seidr comes from Asgard, and every one who channels seidr is on the same frequency, so to speak. Wong and Strange’s magic is derived from the energy of the multiverse, which is channeled through their gods. That's essentially its own frequency, as well. Your magic would have had its own unique signature.”

'Would have had'. Past-tense.

"We will learn more once we have located your power well."

"You don't think it's entirely lost?"

"No. I don't. My consciousness remains with this form," Loki gestures to himself, "but I can sense the presence of magic here."

Something released in my gut.

"Any idea where your powers come from?"

"I, uh, never knew, where, or… who was using the same frequency... I get the impression I searched out answers. I think it's what I was hoping to find out through academia, but I never found anything." I cringe at the statement. I wanted to be more definitive, tell Loki exactly how I had searched, but I couldn't offer anything other than vague inclinations. It's prior to my living memory. "Stephen searched everywhere, but nothing, ah, either."

I'm genuinely surprised that Loki doesn't use that as an opportunity to rag on Stephen, or boast of superior tracking skills.

"Can’t we just follow the magical signature back to its source? Like follow it out the window? Then we’d know who was talking to me in my dream.”

“In real life maybe, but in here, I’m afraid it’s not that simple - this is a vision of the past, a ghost of an event that has already happened and been imprinted as memory. We only have access to the parts that directly involved you, and from this slice of your life, I can't tell if you were drawing the magic to you while you slept, or if it was seeking you out. I wouldn't know where to begin."

I nod, it sounded like a stupid suggestion when I said it.

"Actually... I may have an idea." He straightens his lapels. "I cannot track your magic to the source from inside your mind, but if we treat it like an artifact that exists across memories... I might be able to connect each healthy memory of your magic to another. A thread that may lead us to your well of power." He doesn't wait for permission, Loki beginning to hum to himself.

It's a simple and rather beautiful as a form of magic and at times I swear I can hear two or even three notes as once. He is bathed in what I can only call black light.

"Are you ready?" Loki asks, his voice reverberating slightly. The light does not dissipate, instead it hovers around him, his eyes wholly black.

"I guess."

He looks otherworldly. This magic is different from his seidr. "Do you know what would happen if we tried to follow this flow of magic out the window?"

I shake my head.

"See, it's- oh- I'm not sure if you can see it from there- come here. That's it. Now, look over there, can you see-?"

Loki pushes me through the window. It doesn't break, warping against me until I phase all the way through with a pop.

I land on my ass with a yelp, but am lucky that I only fall two or three feet. The window was a door.

"Asshole," I mutter.

This scene is very similar to the last

Again, Memory-Me was in bed, but this time the dream didn’t seem to be quite as disturbing.

“Come now,” it's the same voice as in the previous dream, warm and slightly-accented. “You remember this, just practice.”

From the moment we entered this memory, Loki had drawn the magical signatures in the room to visibility. The purple that was coming in the window previously is still there, but it swirls with my own magical energy

Without warning, my memory's body flickers and disappears, Memory-Me's magical signature disappeared with me.

“Ages of Thunder,” Loki reeled back, surprised, looking back and forth between the memory and my real self. “That is a pretty unique incantation, sunna.”

I ignored the remark, my face scrunching up. “I don’t remember that dream. I learned an invisibility spell from a dream, but when I woke up, I couldn’t remember anything but the motions to perform the magic.”

“I am not sure I conveyed my surprise enough, I have never seen an invisibility spell that works like that,” for emphasis Loki restarts the scene, creating a repeating loop of my flickering form. “You see? You aren’t simply vanishing, you are disrupting your mass in some way.”

When my body vanishes, the comforter, which is draped over Memory-Me, drops entirely, like I had vanished completely. When my memory's body reappears, she is on top of the linen.

“So, it’s more than just turning invisible?” I wonder aloud, placing my hand on the arm of Memory-Me, and sure enough, when her body disappeared, my hand slipped onto the mattress like she had never been there. There wasn’t even an indent in the bed where my bodyweight should be.

Another memory begins to tugs at the edges of my brain, the thread Loki was working calling us, and in unison, Loki and I approach the door leading from my bedroom to the hallway.

We step into the Sanctum gym.

“That was good. The spell I mean. I didn’t realize the extent of it.”

Stephen looks nervous. I hadn't noticed when I lived this memory.

“What do you mean?”

“You were gone-”

“Uh-huh, that is what is usually meant when people say ‘invisibility spell’.”

“Ha-ha ,” Stephen rolls his eyes and begins packing up his sparring equipment, “but I, in all my infinite power, couldn't even feel you. Your presence. Your magic. Anything. It was like you popped out of existence.”

“When you perform this spell, what does it look like from your perspective?” Loki asked, turning to face me.

The memory restarts. Memory-Me vanishes again.

“I don’t know, like how does it feel, you mean?” I shrug. “It’s like looking at the world through a water bottle. I could still feel my body, like it wasn’t like I turned into gas or anything,” I nodded my head to the vision as Memory-Me shoves Memory-Stephen. “I could still interact with the world, but it took effort. I remember-” finding the words to describe the experience was a challenge, “I remember trying to talk with Stephen when I was invisible, but he couldn’t hear me? And his voice sounded so far away.”

Loki’s hand absentmindedly came up to rub his jawline. When he wasn’t parading around like a prized peacock, he was almost tolerable. Add that to the list - ‘almost tolerable.’ 'Relatively knowledgeable' when he'll share.

We walked without talking through several other memories, following the artifact thread along.

It's like glimpsing the most boring parts of your life. Memory-me eats, sleeps, reads, practiced magic and catalogued. Rinse and repeat.

The most confronting part is that, just as I feared, I don’t have any other friends, even anyone else I was close with. It seemed that as soon as I had met Stephen, as soon I found the Sanctum, either I just dropped any friends I had or I just plain didn't have any. No one checks on me, not friends, not coworkers. I move in with the sorcerers without saying goodbye to old neighbors... It's like I was a specter in my own life.

“I must have been so lonely,” I don't really mean for it to be said out loud, “but why don’t I remember feeling lonely, even in the beginning of my memories, when I had just met Stephen. I was living in New York for god-knows-how-long, and I had no one? So why didn’t I feel lonely? Or at least relieved that I finally made friends?”

Loki looks at me with a lifted brow. “Your whole life does seem to be rather Strange-oriented.”

I don’t know what to say to that. He's right.

“Are you in love with him?” There it was, that tenderness again. I am automatically distrusting of it.

“Why would you ask that?”

Loki smirks. “I’ve been in your mind, sweetness. I’ve felt what you’ve felt. You are drawn to him almost against rational thought.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I, Sunna?”

“Again with that stupid nickname. That’s not my name.”

“It means ‘sunshine’, I’ve given it to you in honor of your sunny disposition.”

"Don't."

"So, do you love him?"

My frustration at my situation solidifies, cast into a new form. My hands curl into fists at my side.

The black light surrounding Loki flickers out, and he looks down in bewilderment.

I'm not supposed to leave Loki, but in order to avoid hitting him and causing him to potentially leave me stranded in my own mind, I turn on my feet, walking back to the museum’s entrance and away from him.

My feet echo on the marble floors as I round the ticket booth and pushed the glass door, stepping through-

And halting immediately. No, no, no, no, no.

The night was dark, lit only by the pinpricks of hundreds of stars as the lazy wave of color begins to trace across the sky.

“Well, isn’t this romantic,” Loki mocks.

“I don’t want to be here,” I snap, turning to step back through the portal, through which I can see my bedroom.

But Loki slipped in between, stopping me from leaving. “You manifested it.”

“Let me leave.”

“Why, does something…?” Loki trailed off, his eyes locked on the scene behind me.

I'm frozen, only in the memory I can't feel the cold.

“Ah,” his gaze turned back to me, green eyes dancing with amusement. “Too embarrassed to watch your rejection, I see. I have to admit, you are braver than I thought, to kiss him and handle his rebuttal. Such a lack of explanation would have driven me mad.”

“Fuck off,” I said, attempting to shove him out of the way, but even with my entire bodyweight behind the action, he doesn't move at all.

“Well, this development has completely eviscerated my theory.” Instead of renouncing the scene, Loki strolls right up to the edge, pulling himself onto the rock Stephen and I had shared, and started the scene again with front row seats.

“Hey, cut that out!” but my outrage fell on deaf ears.

“See, I think that the circumstances in which you came under Strange’s care are suspicious enough, obviously, because of the whole diversion-mind-invasion situation, but now that I know he doesn’t feel for you the way you feel for him... Frankly I’m struggling to identify his motivations.”

The kiss. The rejection.

“What are you talking about?”

“The most straight forward answer is that Strange accepted you into his life, his home, because he is in love with you. That he could fall entirely in love with someone in two months goes against his suspicious nature, but that is the only reasoning I could come up with. The desire to help you, to protect you, to be around you constantly,” Loki's tone is torturous, he's trying to get under my skin. “But clearly, the man does not love you. I am at a loss.” Another list word - cruel.

He's just trying to get under my skin.

‘Can’t wait to see what kind of pedestal Strange stores you on.’ That’s what Loki had said the first day I'd met him, like he was already convinced Stephen loved me, even then. My gut twists.

I had thought we were close, but do I even really know Stephen? Clearly, I am not very good at reading him, because I thought we were having a moment under these stars, but why had I thought that? Historically Stephen kept me at arm’s length, he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with himself. Was I delusional?

“You moved in with the man a few months after meeting him? Just joining him on missions and slotting into his life perfectly? Just like that?” Loki snapped his fingers in emphasis.

“I- I don’t know what that has to do with-”

“What about the rest of your life? What about everything else?”

“I still go to work, and- and I have hobbies! Like- like-” I scrambled, trying to name a single thing that I had done since meeting Stephen that would pass the Bechdel test. “It doesn’t matter! I don't have to explain anything to you.”

“Don’t you think that’s just awfully convenient? That Strange finds you one day, a poor lost magical kitten, and just absorbs you into his life without having to make any significant changes? But everything that was you beforehand is mysteriously lost?”

“He’s not a villain, Loki!”

“Of course not,” Loki smirked. “He’s just a man, who has managed to separate you from everyone you know and love, isolating you from your life before him, and now, with your memories lost, has managed to create a permanent form control over you.”

I look away for one second, but when I turn back, Loki is gone, and standing in his place is Stephen. “Is this what you want?”

“Stop it.” I could barely form the words.

“I love you, Sunna, I want the world for you, Sunna. You are my one true love, the star in the night that guides me,” Loki-Stephen crooned.

“I said stop,” I shoved the prince with everything I could muster, and to my surprise he actually staggers back a few steps.

His true form flickers for a second before he appears in front of me, a perfect copy of Stephen down to his scarred hands on my face. “Do you trust me?”

A thumb brushed my bottom lip. Stephen’s eyes held the same pain that I remembered and I gaped like a fish out of water, because this was too close to the real thing. Stephen is too close.

His face is leaning in, and I can’t help but move away like two magnets of the same polarity, his breath fanning across my nose until the last second when his brings his mouth to my ear, his breath warm. “Why do you trust me?”

My eyes are shut tight. I felt Stephen stepping around me, circling me, but not once putting an inch more space between our bodies. It's easy to believe that it's Stephen. He even smells like Stephen, lemons and earl grey.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you regret meeting me?” Stephen asks.

“Is this all a game to you?” I back away from him, desperate to be away from Loki’s appropriated warmth.

“Everything is a game to me. Do you ask a fish not to swim?” Loki's voice comes out of Stephen's mouth.

“What do you even want with me? Do you just want to torture me? I get it, Stephen doesn’t have feelings for me, I already knew that, I didn’t need you to tell me, I know. It was humiliating.”

Loki finally gives me an inch of personal space, a satisfied expression across his features.

Insecurity and embarrassment turned to rage and I slap him hard across the face, so hard that I'd slapped the Stephen off of him.

Loki reels. It looks as though it actually hurt.

For a moment everything pauses and I then I am flooded with pure terror. The ground cracks around him with the force of his seidr.

A step forward and I take a matching step back. Green crackles in the air between us. Another step forward.

◂ previous chapter next chapter ▸

AO3 Masterpost

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poppy-metal · 2 years

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poppy u have me obsessed with balls in a way i never thought i would be. can’t stop thinking about eddie’s balls. his big heavy balls dragging over your forehead, resting on my eyes as he has you laying with my head hanging off the bed so he can fuck you throat. balls balls balls 😵‍💫 getting to lay there on your tummy on the bed between his legs and leave little kitten licks , squeezing and kissing them. while your other hand just lazily strokes him until he cums. feeling his balls tighten in your hand. i wanna worship this man’s balls and it’s your fault.

laying on your back, with your head tipped over the edge of the bed watching eddie. he looks. so good today, he'd tied his hair up in a messy bun because its so humid out, even though hes still wearing all black. black jeans, black t shirt. the arms cut off so you can his the light felx of his forearms as he writes down lyrics. the back of his neck is damp with sweat, flyaway hairs sticking to it. his tongue is poked out in concentration. you want his dick so bad.

eddie suddenly spins his pen around and tosses it on his deck, leaning back to stretch. his shirt rides up, shows his tummy and the light smattering of hair that leads from his bellybutton down his pelvis, dissappearing into the band of his jeans. he cracks his fingers, "i just came up with the best lyric in all of history." he says, grinning at you, "you're dating a rockstar. an upcoming sex icon, if you will."

you bite your lip, "I'd hang your poster above my wall."

eddie stands up, shirt falling back down, and makes his way over to you. you stay in position, reaching your hands out to grab his hips when he's close. his crotch is tantalizingly close to your face.

he looks down at you, "yeah? my little dedicated fan, are you?"

you thumb at his belt, tug on it. "I'd probably masturbate to it, to be real with you. every night."

eddie lets out a sharp breath, eyes darkening from light humor to molten lust. his hands come down to help you unbuckle his belt, pulling it through the loops. "every night, huh." he echoes, "so i got myself a crazed groupie."

you nod, dazed. you can't really concentrate when you're upside down and eddies pulling his beautiful cock out. he shimmies his jeans down, not all the way, just enough that his heavy cock bobs free, the denim rucked up under his flushed balls.

he grips himself at his base. "what kind of fantasies is my little groupie having, then? hm?"

you lick your lips, the head of his cock is dewy and wet. a little bead of precum pearls at his pink slit. you squeeze your thighs together.

"d-definitely" you pause. swallow. "definitely fantasize about letting you use me."

eddie hums, tipping his cock forward and rubbing his spongy head along your slick lips, you dart your tongue out to catch that bead of cum. hungry.

"god, that's hot." he grits. "little girl all alone in her room thinking about letting me use her as a cocksleeve. put a pillow between your thighs. i wanna see you go crazy for it."

you do as he says, leaning up briefly to fish for a pillow and then squeezing your thighs around it. you put your head back in position, moaning when he shuffles forward and feeds his flushed cock into your open mouth.

his heavy sack comes to rest on your eyes, fleshy and soft. you moan ane gurgle around him, spit bubbles already forming around the seam of your lips around him.

you hear him groan above you, you can't see it but he's holding his shirt up with one hand, so he can look down his naked chest and see the buldge his cock is leaving in your flexing throat. he grinds his pelvis forward, so his balls dance across your forhead, twin sacks moving across your face and smushing against it.

"fuck." he hisses, "fuck i need you to lick my balls, hold still for me-"

he drags his cock out, cooing at how you cough and sputter, spit dripping down your nose into your hairline. messy.

hes leaning forward in the next moment, kicking his jeans the rest of the way off so he can straddle the bed, his knees on either side of your head.

he uses your spit to jerk his cock, flushed red with blood and throbbing, the movement making his balls bounce just over your head.

"show me how loyal you are." he grunts, lowering himself. "fuck. show me why you're my number #1 fan, sweetheart. worship your idols balls for him. get em' all messy."

he moans when your mouth closed around his sack, sucking eagerly. "thats it." he whines. "such a dirty girl." he moves up, and you lay your tongue out, whimpering when he just smushes his balls against your nose, runs them all over your face, getting them wet with your spit and drool.

"you worship me so well, baby. my special girl. letting me make her all messy, just stay like that. m'gonna cum-"

when he cums, you close your mouth around his balls again, feel them jerk on your tongue as they empty.

"you're amazing. holy shit-" you feel him rubbing his cum over your nipples, smearing it in, as you lazily suckle him dry. "baby."

he wheezes. groans, when your tongue laves over his sack. "fuck, i love my fans."

you dig your nails into his thighs. "you, especially."

#ask #balls make me go fuzzy #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie spaghetti

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oathkeeperoxas · 8 months

Text

Wip wednesday

I have not posted in a bit, but! I promise progress is being made. This scene came out nice so I'd like to share it with you all. A steamy reunion, under the cut 🥰

1995

“Mav,” he pants into Mav’s mouth, unable to tear himself away even for a moment, even so he can speak. “Mav, this is a bad idea.”

“I think I remember you saying that last time,” Mav rumbles, nipping at his lip. “God, Ice, I missed you.”

He pulls Ice closer, and Ice arches against him, rubbing their bodies together because the truth is he missed Mav too, damn it. He remembers Mav tasting intense and intoxicating, but it’s still a shock when he bursts full flavour into Ice’s mouth, as vibrant as ever even though they’re half a decade older. Still stealing all the attention in a room, still demanding that he be front and centre.

And maybe it’s the wine, but he doubts it. It’s more likely to be the letters that Mav has sent him over the years, the pictures that were tucked into those envelopes, the little drawings by Bradley that sometimes were shared with Ice despite their value. It’s more likely the easy dialogue that has evolved between them, and okay yes, it’s Mav’s thick and delicious scent and his warm hands holding Ice close and how he makes Ice’s heartbeat thunder. His kisses are addicting, and Ice has always needed more of them, but he's certain they wouldn't be so lovely if Ice didn't also find the man giving them to him so damn attractive.

He starts working Mav’s belt, fumbling with it since he’s not exactly breaking away from Mav’s mouth to look, kissing him until he needs to gasp in a breath. “Mav, I mean it,” he says, but he’s pulling open Mav’s pants and undoing the buttons on his jeans. “Mav, we shouldn’t, we really shouldn’t–”

“Shh,” Mav mumbles against him. “I don’t have a problem with fucking my CO. Don’t worry about it.”

All Ice does is worry. But there’s no room for the future when the now is so overwhelming, when Mav is shoving his underwear down and then Ice has his hands on Mav’s cock, hot and hard for him. He hasn’t had sex since he broke up with Mav and he goes a little stupid, a little desperate. He needs it. Oh, fuck. He needs Mav.

“Mav,” he says, and sinks to his knees. Mav growls, sticks his hands in Ice’s hair, and guides him in.

Ice gets his lips around Mav’s cock and he’s throbbing and wet at the tip already, and he can’t think straight as Mav bursts onto his tongue in full flavour, musky and salty and thick, and Ice is shoving his face up and down like his life depends on it and Mav has his hand on the back of Ice’s neck and is hissing encouragement and praise and Ice palms himself and grabs what won’t fit in his mouth and Mav is lightning and the storm both, and Ice's eyes are tearing up and he’s not breathing because he’s too busy trying to swallow Mav whole and Mav is letting him–

Mav shoots his load down Ice’s throat and he’s never been greedier for it. Mav’s sweat is thick on his thighs, and Ice eventually lets go of his dick so he can rub his face through it, not thinking of anything besides getting as much of Mav on him as possible.

“Shit,” Mav mutters. He runs a hand over Ice’s head. “Ice, fucking hell.”

Ice’s heartbeat is thunder in his throat. Mav hauls him up and then picks him up, Christ how is he so hot, even if it’s just to sit Ice up on the bench that’s clean because Mav cleaned it, an alpha came into his house and didn’t even ask before making it his own, Mav didn’t even ask and he didn’t need to ask because there’s only one answer that Ice could have given–

Mav roughly undoes his fly and leans down and Ice has to dart his arms out behind him so he won’t just fall down when Mav finds him and starts sucking him. Mav has always been good at this, always known what to do with his tongue and what pressure Ice had liked, but Ice had thought after a while he’d been imagining it when he’d jerked off to the thought of Mav sucking him, but nope, it’s just as good as he remembers; better, even, because it’s real–

He doesn’t last long. Mav licks at him afterwards, slow and easy, and Ice shudders through it. Has to stare up at the ceiling because he can’t look at Mav, not right now. God damn it, this was supposed to be easy, coming back here. It was supposed to be a part of the plan, but Mav has never been a part of any plan he didn’t come up with. He’s never been interested in anything but upsetting the table and resetting it to a configuration that suits him.

Mav pulls off and leans up to him, bracing his weight on either side of Ice’s hips. Ice stares at him, still panting, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I thought you were still just as gone on me as I was on you,” Mav murmurs, and Ice can’t say anything, because anything that comes out of his mouth right now will only be damning. “I had to fuck you at least once in here,” he continues, eyes glinting. “You’re not staying in this shithole, are you?”

“No fucking way,” Ice manages, voice hoarse. Trying to muster his thoughts into something coherent as if Mav hasn't just sucked his brain out through his dick. “Gotta go shopping for a new house and a new car.”

Mav laughs, then leans in to press kisses along Ice’s collarbones, dragging lips over skin. “You wanna stay at mine?” he asks. “Can stay in my bed. Keep me warm through those cold Californian nights.”

“Shut up,” Ice says weakly. “It’s summer, you idiot.” He takes a breath. Nuzzles against Mav’s cheek. “Yes, fine, I’ll stay with you.”

“Good, because the second bedroom is Bradley’s,” Mav says. “And I don’t think he’s interested in giving it up.”

Ice gets his arms around Mav’s shoulders and squeezes him close, feeling their hearts beat through their skins, and admits defeat. He brushes the old plan aside as he kisses Mav’s temple. He starts setting the new pieces up as he cups Mav’s face in his hands and kisses him, so, so sweetly. Nothing like what the desperate animal inside him wants, but enough for now. Because if Ice has his way – and one way or another, he usually gets his way – then Mav isn’t going anywhere. Mav is here, and Mav is his.

The new strategy takes shape, and Ice holds the lynchpin in his arms and plots.

#icemav #iceman #maverick #top gun #tg #wip wednesday #mine #my writing #draft is 76k now can i get a yeah boy in chat

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