#and because of that you are forced to face the most awful parts of his life being potentially visited upon you as well

[orange-demons]

Let's get some more CC Bosch content on the streets 💙

CC Bosch! CC Bosch! CC Bosch! Every time I think of CC Bosch it's always sad. also had to take some creative liberties when writing this so please don't judge too hard.

After JP muddied the Resistance's image, they've been getting a lot of criticism from the people of Nayshall and even more around the world. A country of criminals, he said. How pitiful, a place rich in people and culture reduced to nothing but a place for illegal gambling and money laundering.

And a Resistance born out of forced modernization, with NGOs sucking Nayshall dry of all their resources for their own benefit.

Many shared their sentiment of not wanting these big companies taking over, but Kalima had to make sure JP and Amnesia weren't snooping around to pry more information out of them, so they had to be careful.

Because of that, she knew every single person that came in and out of the caves of Mt. Vashal. It wasn't until she came across an all-too-familiar face in the crowd. His wide green eyes peered up at her as she led another group to protest in front of the business district.

He popped up a few times after their initial encounter and even managed to sneak his way into their meetings. And every time, Kalima told him to go home, that this wasn't something for kids to be playing around by.

But he was in awe of her and the way she spoke about their independence. To be free from the clutches of big corporations trying to use Nayshall as a cover for their nefarious schemes.

Time and time again he came back to show his loyalty, not only for Kalima, but for the Resistance.

"Then how far are you willing to go, Bosch?"

Kalima listened to the trickling water and winds that passed through the cave systems. She stayed in a meditative state as she kneeled in front of the altar. A variety of fruits were placed in a basket on the steps and candles were lit in honor to signify the memory of Nayshall's founding fathers.

She didn't need to look behind her to know who was dragging their feet along the floors with metal chains clanking against each other.

He's battered and broken, but his mental state is the true liability if he is left unchecked.

Monsters. All of them.

JP is the foundation of the cruelty the world will experience.

Not the boogie-man that lived in the closet. Or the shadow you saw in the corner of the room. But a real breathing monster is worming his way into Nayshall this very second. And he will stop at nothing until this country is a shell of what it used to be.

And to bring in a kid, who's barely able to contain himself, to be used as a spectacle to garner views is the lowest form of depravity.

JP is the root of all evil.

"You just missed it. Your friend gave Rewancha a run for his money after they found out about the Championship belt." Kalima said rising to her feet, dusting the particles of dirt that managed to stick to her clothes.

"A real piece of work, if you ask me." She glanced at Bosch, taking in his appearance once more. He has moments when he's more primal in nature, with a hunched back and heavy breathing. Her eyes shot down to his pants, which were splattered with god knows what. Scars littered his body with a purple tinge seeping from the open wounds. And the chains held firm against his wrists, rattling at the slightest movement.

But the most obvious feature about him was the box on his head. A crude way to conceal his identity that Bosch picked up in Metro City.

"Are you going to wear that thing all day?" she said, motioning to it.

He hesitantly reached up to remove his headwear, giving Kalima a view of his face. The bags under his eyes served as a reminder of restless nights and the constant mental load weighing on him.

"Got anything to say?" she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

He remained quiet for the most part, despite his huffing and puffing.

"I...wanted them to know about the Resistance, if something happened to me. To know what I- ... what we've been fighting for. That's why I gave them the Data card." he replied through the throbbing sensation in his head, hoping Kalima would see his side.

"And now, look where it got us." She aimlessly gestured to the space around them. "We have someone with no business with the Resistance snooping around JP's faction. Do you have any idea the position it can put us in, especially the day before the tournament?"

"I know, I'm responsible for everything they've done leading up to this." Bosch said gruffly. Telling you was a gamble on his part, but he couldn't have that card on him for their enemy to use against the group, so he needed to get rid of it.

Well, that and for personal reasons that Kalima wouldn't want to hear.

"Then I hope you know what you're doing by dragging them into our affairs. In Nayshall's affairs."

"Right..." he muttered, holding his tongue.

He claimed he wanted to get stronger, not for himself, but for the Resistance. And he could only find true strength outside of here.

Kalima did take into consideration the bonds he would eventually form with the people of Metro City, but, there was one person Bosch was close to during his stay according to her contacts.

And that's when he became a liability. Not when he fell in the enemy's clutches, or when Bosch escaped with his modified body. It was when he met you.

You're making Bosch second-guess himself and the motives rooted in their core beliefs.

He's even gone so far as to go against her orders to not return to Metro City, when collecting the raw materials for their next big plan.

He said he had unfinished business he needed to attend to, before forcing his way on the next flight. Kalima knew Bosch was going to find a way to see you again one way or another, but now the Resistance is treading on dangerous territory. And they can't afford any more outside casualties to their already hostile image.

"So what now? Are you going to stop them? You know they're trying to deactivate the belt as we speak."

"Do you think they'll get far?" Bosch's brows furrowed, trying to focus his attention on the tunnel you entered. The whirlwind of energy coursing through his veins was making it hard to focus on small things now.

"Best case scenario, Your friend gets stopped by security before they even have a chance to reach the belt." Kalima shrugged.

"And worse?" his grip tightened on the box, crumbling its edges.

"You better hope they get stopped by security." Nothing escaped her scrutiny, especially when he referred to you in a way that had underlying connotations. So that's what this was, puppy love.

"Look, I don't care what you two had before all this." she sighed in frustration. "But you better tie up all of your loose ends by the start of the Suval'hal tournament. Because I won't let the Resistance falter because you decided to bring an outsider into our fight." Kalima said, giving him one last look before leaving with the rest of the group.

When the space was void of people, Bosch sat in his thoughts, gritting his teeth at what was to come.

But all he could do was stare at the statue of Nayshall's first founding father for guidance, as the burning sensation of his skin resurfaced once more.

#street fighter x reader #bosch x reader #bosch waraya #bosch waraya x reader #sf x reader #sf6 x reader #street fighter bosch #street fighter #street fighter bosch waraya #street fighter 6 x reader #street fighter 6

[shivunin]

I know it's just what the slaver enemy type is programmed to say, but I have very strong feelings about the ones during A Bitter Pill telling the others to "keep the pretty ones alive."

Like. If you're Fenris, already at your limit in what you can handle emotionally today, and you hear the ones who'd drag you back to a fate worse than death saying that about the few friends you've managed to cobble together in your sparse years of freedom...man. I've been thinking about this for days and I don't have any sort of conclusion here.

#i think the fenhawke angle makes it worse of course #like it's worse to hear that about someone you love #but it's awful regardless #i think i might need to write about this because i can't stop thinking about it #and the fact that he sets you up for an ambush when you meet but you face one down together for this quest on his behalf #and because of that you are forced to face the most awful parts of his life being potentially visited upon you as well #double or nothing so to speak #god he is just so!!!! #i am putting him in the stand mixer and flipping the switch #half the time i write these things and i fewl like the last drunk in the bar sobbing to the bartender #hello is anyone listening?? fenris is a free man but in freedom he's only found more to lose T.T #fenris #da2 #dixeram

[yawnderu]

Adoration — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Content: fluff, pregnant!reader, horrible dad jokes.

Our small talk was quite big to me. You know I love you, yeah? My entire life, I always wanted the most simple things. A cup of tea, a normal family, nice food, to be loved and accepted. To find comfort in someone, for the first time ever.

"Earth to Simon." You say teasingly, a hand being waved slowly near his eyes, as if to see if he was focusing on you. He gives you a questioning look, raising a blonde eyebrow stained with eyeblack.

"Seemed a bit lost there." You give his cheek a kiss and you could swear you felt it heat up right after. He returns it, of course, giving you an overly wet kiss on the cheek that makes you recoil and scrunch up your face in mock disgust, dragging a quiet laugh out of him. The sound is beautiful, something your enamored brain can never fully process no matter how many times you hear it.

"I'm here." He replies, arms wrapping around your waist as he brings you closer to his naked body, one hand now gently holding the back of your head as your cheek touches his chest.

"I'm here." He repeats, voice quieter as he looks down at you. The image of you has always been the lens in which he can see the world with love. Reserved for you— his hand trails down, running down your skin delicately before settling on your tummy. —and the life growing inside of you.

"I've been thinking about retiring." He says it so casually you take a few seconds to process, blinking a few times before looking up at him with a mix of confusion and excitement in your face.

"Really?" He doesn't blame you for not believing it— hell, he doesn't even believe it himself. His whole life has been dedicated to putting his life on the line, what else can he do? He'll find something. Anything.

"Yeah." He confirms, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as his hand keeps gently holding your stomach, hoping he can feel the baby kicking.

"There's too much to lose now that I have my girls with me." And he doesn't wanna take the risk anymore. He wants to grow old with you, and he wants to see his girl grow. Maybe even have a couple more kids later on.

His words are met with a soft peck, your hand gently running through his short, bleached hair.

"Are you sure?" He doesn't even hesitate before nodding, bringing your naked body closer to his, wanting to feel everything he missed out on his whole life.

"Already spoke with the old man. Said he'd support me either way." He chuckled softly, thinking back on his conversation with Price. The man was barely 10 years older than him, yet in a way, he was a father figure for Simon. Someone to look up to, a mentor.

He still remembers the first time you and Simon confirmed you were together, and how Price promised to keep his lips sealed despite fraternization being frowned upon. Price knew it would happen either way, looking at the way Simon's eyes softened when you were introduced to the team. The way he was always next to you, paying special attention to you during missions despite knowing you're part of the 141 because you're a capable soldier. Price would tease him in private about his obvious crush on you and Simon would simply say he's seeing things because of dementia.

"Then I'll retire too." You confirm, and before he can open his mouth to protest, you keep talking.

"I'm not risking our girl growing up without a mother. Can't imagine forcing her to deal with your bad jokes alone." You tease and the corners of his lips tilt up, eyes glistening with... something. You know that look.

"No, don't st—" You try to get up from bed and he gently pulls you closer, the same smug smile on his lips that shows he knows he's about to do something awful.

"What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?" You groan loudly and try to escape his grasp, a smile tugging at your lips as he holds you even closer, planting a bunch of kisses all over your face while you try your best not to giggle.

"Sofishticated." He says bluntly, looking down at you to see your reaction. You simply look away, trying to have a serious expression yet... his jokes are so bad they're funny. A small giggle escapes you before you're full on laughing, trying to move him away from you so you can escape the never ending nightmare of his dad jokes, his low laugh coming from somewhere behind you while he holds you closer, thinking of more jokes he read online just to tell you. You are the shelter in which I find strength to carry on. Thank you.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #Simon ghost fluff #ghost fluff #mw2 fluff #ghost x female reader

[mournings-stars]

adam's wings

this is the adam smut i was talking about... it was originally gonna come after a mini fic but i couldn't figure out how to end the fic so yall can have this smut

all you need to know is adam's had a massive crush on the reader (fem!reader) for like 5+ years and in the last extermination her wings get got (poor you)

I'll publish the fic eventually but enjoy this man being pathetic and a switch (also i hardly write male smut so i hope it's good :))

Life without your wings was something you were just going to have to get used to. It was awful, for the most part, and when it wasn’t it was tolerable. Instead of flying, you and Lute walked in the mornings… you had to use stairs, and you had to ask for help getting things that were too high — of course, Adam liked when you asked him to get things. It boosted his already massive ego now that you were spending more time together. 

Instead of a yearly lunch and dinner after extermination with casual work conversation in between, you had lunch once a week and found yourselves talking often. 

Like today; you weren’t expecting anyone, but Adam brought it upon himself to come to your apartment. He appeared on your balcony, knocking on the glass doors impatiently until you opened them, confused. 

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“You could sound a little happier, dude,” he scoffed as he held out a bag. “I brought you food.”

“Sorry knocking at my window freaked me out, dude.” You rolled your eyes as you took the bag. “Are we having lunch together?”

Your excited face made him frown and you quickly understood that no, you were not having lunch because he was always busy doing the job you used to help with. 

“Hey, don’t look so down, angel.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek. “If you’re still up, I’ll stop by for dinner.”

“Just wake me up—“

“No can do, sugar tits,” you rolled your eyes at the nickname. “Doc says you still need rest.”

“Ugh! Fuck the doctor!” You tossed the food on your coffee table, making him yell “hey!” “Sorry.”

“I used my piss break to get you that!”

“I said sorry! I’m sorry. Thank you for the food.” He huffed, looking at the discarded bag. “Don’t be a baby.”

“You’ve been in such a fucking mood, babe.” He brought his hands to your hips, pulling you up against him. “What happened? You were doing fine without…” His hands traveled to your lower back, then further up, making you wince. “Have you been resting?”

“Don’t baby me. I don’t need rest — I need my fucking wings back—“

“Sh, sh, sh,” he cooed, head lowering to your neck. “Watch your fucking mouth.” The cool mouth of his mask grazed your skin as his fingers traced down the line of your spine, making you inhale sharply and arch toward him. He took that opportunity to hold you tighter. “I can make you feel better, angel… Do you want me to?” His lips pressed against your neck, much more tender than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t mind having to ease in. 

“How much longer is your break?”

“Ended five minutes ago, but who gives a shit?” He laughed as his kisses on your neck became more forceful. “I’ll tell them you needed my help… that you begged me to stay… I’ll say I couldn’t fucking resist you…” He licked a stripe up your neck, making you shudder. “I just had to help… It’s the angelic thing to do—“

“Adam.”

“Yeah, baby?” He was biting down on your neck. 

“Bedroom,” was all you had to say for him to suck the darkest fucking hickey onto your skin. 

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Before you could turn away from him, he lifted you up and took you to your room, setting you on the bed before you pulled him on top of you. You got his mask off as quickly as possible, accidentally leaving the horns, but you didn't care. 

“You look kinda sexy with horns,” you said as you pulled him down and pressed your lips to his. 

“Kinda?” He laughed into the kiss.

“Mmm… Really sexy.” He groaned when your hands caressed the horns, gripping them and forcing his head at the angle you wanted. “Yeah. I could get used to this.” 

“Don’t get cocky,” he warned, eagerly pushing his hips up against yours and shoving his tongue in your mouth with so much haste you had to pull back. 

“I don’t want a quickie today—” you started, speaking against his forceful lips. 

“Yeah, sure, angel, whatever you want,” he impatiently got his mouth back on yours, hands pulling you against him harshly.

“Stay with me today… You can work from home, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come up with something. Just shut up.” But then he paused. “Home?” He asked. “With you?”

It was times like these where you remembered he’d been crushing on you for at least five years. You laughed. “Figure of speech, darling—“

“Oh, right, right.” He was quick to get his mouth back on yours. 

“But…” You tried to speak between kisses. “I wouldn’t mind — you — coming home — to me every night — like this—“

“You’re making me hard as fuck. Stop talking.” You did as he asked, but reached your hand down to grope him. Before you could, he grabbed your hand and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said quickly before bringing his mouth back to your neck to suck bruises on to. 

But you wanted to touch him, and as your half-lidded eyes looked at what you could touch, your hands reached for his golden wings. Your fingertips stroked the tops of them, feeling just how delicate they were. They were soft, fragile, and utterly beautiful. Your hands traveled down to the base of them, fingers tracing around the feathers with gentle pressure. 

Adam froze on top of you, cutting off his kisses with a strained moan as he shuddered, hips jerking and eyes fluttering. “F-ah-fuck, oh my… fuck,” he whined as you continued your gentle touches to his wings. His hands gripped you harder, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care when you had his head buried in the crook of your neck as he whined in your ear, hips thrusting up against nothing to try and get some kind of relief. “Baby… your gonna — fuck — you gotta stop — it’s — ah, fuck.” He was trying to push your hips down so he could at least grind against you as you tortured him like this, but he couldn’t pull himself together enough to get it right. 

“Shh, baby, I got you… You like that?” He sunk his teeth into your shoulder when you spoke, moaning against you. “Let me help,” you laughed, stopping momentarily to get his and your robes off. 

He couldn’t even give you foreplay if he wanted to right now. He just needed to be inside you. 

That’s exactly what you let him do. You got both your undergarments off as he lazily kissed your shoulder and reached down, guiding him between your legs. You inhaled, moaning when he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you up and making his hips twitch with how wet and ready you were for him. Your legs went around his waist as he rocked his hips and your hands went back to his back. 

As soon as you touched his wings again, his hips were snapping against yours and he was muttering incoherently, “fuck, baby.” “Needa be inside you.” “So good.” “Want you even more.” “Don’t stop.”

When you started whining in his ear as he buried himself inside you just to grind against you, massaging that soft spot just above your cervix and making your cunt tighten around him, he completely lost it. He didn’t hold back on his loud moaning, desperate licking, or harsh biting for anything. He left your neck, shoulders, and collarbones a discolored mess as his hands found your breasts and groped. He pinched your nipples, rolling and twisting harsh enough to get you arching into him, but gentle enough to make sure he didn’t hurt you. 

“You’re all mine,” he panted into your neck, kissing up to your cheek in an effort to find your lips. “No one else can have you… You can’t — ah — you can’t let anyone else touch you. I’d have to fucking kill them,” that, he said clear as day, making you moan his name. “No one’s ever gonna hurt my angel again… Never.” Finally, his mouth found yours and his rough kisses had you gasping for breath as if he’d just threatened you and not the entire world outside of this room. 

His hips didn’t stop, but the more you felt up his wings, the sloppier he got. “Fuck,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Need more of you.” He brought one hand by your head, pushing himself up and getting your dangerously pleasuring hands away from his wings as his other hand went between you and pulled your hips up. He pulled his hips back before thrusting into you, making your eyes roll back as you turned to the side to bury your face in your pillow. “There it is.” He held you in place, hitting that same spot with each thrust and making you tighten around him. “That's it… That's my girl.” 

You fisted the sheets, moaning loudly into your pillow. Adam grabbed you by the neck, using his fingers to turn your head toward him. “Let me hear you,” he said, voice still whiny from the way you were touching him and making your stomach flutter. “You’ve been feeling me up this whole fucking time, it’s time for my reward, yeah?” You nodded, never breaking eye contact, and he smiled. “Good fucking girl.”

His hand went down to your hips, resting on your lower stomach and pressing down to make you groan. His thumb moved to your clit, pressing down to feel you pulse against him. He laughed. “I knew you fucking needed me. Little attitude’s all fucking gone now, huh?” He circled his thumb, thrusting into you at the same excruciatingly slow pace. “Thought you’d have me like this, didn’t you, angel? All fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck you—“ You whined, trying to sound mad and failing — how he’d completely flipped the situation was beyond you, but you didn’t care when you felt like this. Of course, that wouldn’t stop you from running your mouth. (Or getting him back later).

“Shut up and take it, bitch— oh! Shit, that was kinda mean. Fuck, sorry babe.” He leaned down, kissing you quick and making you laugh as your hands reached up to his face to keep kissing him. “I didn’t mean that.” But when you kept laughing, he quickly told you to, “shut up,” again, then, “you sound really fucking pretty, so don’t actually.”

“Adam,” you warned, hand reaching down toward his wings. “You’re the one that needs to shut up—“

“No fucking way.” He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, picking his pace back up and making the bed knock against the wall with how rough he was being. “You and your pretty little hands are dangerous, angel… Gotta put you back in your place.” He brought his hand to the back of your thigh, pushing it up by your side to get even deeper. 

That and so he could watch your cunt taking him. His gaze alone made your legs shake, your moaning picking back up. He got the hint, pushing himself deeper and grinding against you until you were so tight around him that he could hardly move.

But he did anyway, fucking into you harder and faster as his hands held your squirming hips still. He moaned at the way you tightened around him, your hands pushing at his hips to get him to stop overstimulating you as you came, but that did nothing but turn him on as you moaned his name like a fucking prayer, back arching and hips writhing on the sheets as your hands settled to grip his wrists and your eyes shut in pure bliss. 

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he mocked your words from earlier, making your eyes screw shut as you tightened around him again. That made him shudder, his hips twitching as he thrusted sharply, his orgasm filling you up and dripping out of you as his eyes shut and hands moved to grip yours, pinning them to the bed. 

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum spill out of you with a cocky smile. “Fuck, you look good like this,” he said, hands squeezing yours. “How’s it feel having the—“

“If you say anything about your ‘first dick,’ I’ll kill you,” you said breathlessly, cutting him off before he could start and making him roll his eyes. “But… it feels really fucking good—“ “That’s my fucking girl!”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #adam smut #hazbin smut #hazbin blurb #hazbin imagine #hazbin drabble

[chrollohearttags]

window shopping • connie springer + ryomen sukuna x black fem reader

your two favorite fellow mall employees have a bit of a competition to see who can bag you first. Little did they know, you don’t want to choose.

word count: 3.7K

content + themes: crossover au, jeweler connie, foot locker manager sukuna (they’re both afro-latino coded in this idc), threesome tings (too many smutty things to list) car sex, heavy squirting, oral to name a few (.2 seconds of rimming), lots of humor, weed mentions, they call reader mami, miss and baby, she calls them both papi, crack ass post if I’ve ever written one.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

interesting. The one word you’d use to describe your work days at Center Pointe Mall. Although a gross understatement, it was still interesting..mainly due in part to what and who, rather..you encountered on a daily basis. Sure, the influx of customers and unfamiliar faces you saw during your employment at Sephora were most certainly wild cards. From the college girls who always mismatched their foundation to the business woman who needed that perfect skin care package to get rid of her crow’s feet..neither of them held a candle to those two..

“Good morning, miss. You look good today..like that hair on you.”

“Aye, good morning, ma. What’s that perfume you got on..’smell real good.”

it was like clockwork. Every day, as you entered for your shift, there they were. Stationed in front of their respective stores, ready to greet you. Flashing those beaming smiles, oftentimes with gold slugs in their mouth and with the same, sweet charm lacing their words. Ryomen Sukuna, who headed up the Foot Locker and Connie Springer, managing the jewelry shop which both just so happened to be conveniently placed on either side of your store. It made for fun times, for sure! When you’d have a slow day and you’d stand outside the doorway, vibing to the music they’d play because the top forty’s pop crap they recycled on repeat was driving you insane. Connie would talk to you from across the way as he waited for potential customers. Ryo, who was the manager, had other employees manning the store. He would come and interrupt the party none other than for the reason of chatting you up and getting on Connie’s nerves. Which made for quite the entertainment.

“Aw, hell. Here he go..Ryo, ain’t nobody talking to you, bruh. Gon’ somewhere.”

“Stay out of grown folks' business, Mr. Clean. I came to see my girl. What’s up with you, miss?”

which was so much more hilarious, considering the fact that the two of them? They were literally best friends! Dating back as far as middle school. Ryo was a couple years older but they were from the same neighborhood and were attached at the hip. Both exceptional basketball players and gifted artists. Drawing amazing artwork and a number of the tattoos they had on their bodies. Brilliant young men with wonderful personalities..how could you not adore them?! Regardless, all three of you would congregate outside of those doors and talk until customers came in and would even take your lunch breaks together. It was never a dull moment with those two, that’s for sure. Especially when it comes to vying for your attention. Buying your food, pulling your chair out and everything. They were perfect gentlemen despite their constant flirtation. Connie would use humor as a means to try and win your heart. Always spewing out corny jokes and making you laugh. Ryo was definitely the charmer of the pair..attempting to sweet talk you at every turn. One day, you were sitting next to Ryo in the food court with Connie in front of you as you grabbed the pink haired gentleman’s chin.

“You got such a pretty smile, Ryo.” And Connie was not having it. Immediately snorting as he sipped his drink, the chaos would ensue. “Yeah, cause he went and got them big ass veneers. Them extra large teef’…” prompting you to nearly spit out your drink and forcing your head down. You couldn’t take them anywhere! “..bet you eat corn on the cob whole. Chewing them muhfuckas like candy.” Knowing he was opening up a can of worms he wasn’t ready for.

“Worry ‘bout pedaling them fake ass chains, ConMan. Bubblegum machine ass necklace. Look at the diamonds, shit’s standing still..” And they’d go on forever, taking shots and licks at each other all day, putting you in the middle of it. “(Y/N), miss. Tell this baldheaded ass lil’ boy to leave you alone. We can go get a tester and put his ass outta business right now .” “Tell jumbo teeth to mind his business. Tight ass shirt on..bout to rip.” And you’d have to feign off their nonsense with laughter. “Y’all too much. I gotta go. I’ll see you boys later.” And both of them would instantly fluster at the sight of you waving goodbye. It was all but impossible when they’d watch those thirty inches of jet black hair and ass swaying simultaneously. Those plump, gloss covered lips; wearing your signature brown liner and beautiful features. A single nose piercing on the side of your left nostril..you were gorgeous. They couldn’t help but to admire. But soon, that innocuous affection turned to actual lust. Lust that was shared on all sides and unbeknownst to your bumbling boys..you wanted a piece of them both. They’d continue flirting, pining for your affection and even making a little wager without your knowledge to see who could bag you first..

but it was one night after work, when you were all seated in Ryo’s car. You in the passenger’s seat of his spacious, blacked out Trackhawk. He is in the driver’s seat and Connie was right behind you. Stationed in an empty lot not too far from the mall itself, the three of you would do as you had done several times:

“Here, your turn, (y/n).”

passing around a blunt and blowing smoke as you hotboxed..leaving a large cloud to fog up the already tinted windows. After four puffs, you were already beginning to feel the effects. Your eyes narrowed and began to glow red from the euphoria. But alas, your high was only about to increase tenfold when you’d drop quite a bombshell on them. They’d continue with their usual antics and alas, the question would arise again: who do you like more? And from there, they’d just go on and on, swearing that one or the other was the ideal choice. Ryo, with his deep raspy tone, would incite the behavior with the glide of a finger underneath your chin and that smooth talking. If it truly was a competition, you wouldn’t know how to pick. Granted, they were both so silly but there was a quality about each of them that you couldn’t resist. Ryo, with his overall sex appeal..this man was so charming and knew exactly what to say to get EXACTLY what he wanted.

“C’mon now, lil’ bro. I mean, I’d hate to hurt your feelings but don’t make the lady choose. It’s not even a question. Ain’t that right, miss?” Flashing you a wink in return.

but there was also Connie, who was a literal sweetheart. He had a more tactful approach to doing things. Despite all of the tattoos, chains and golds in his mouth, he had sort of this shyness about him. But in the same turn, you knew deep down, if given the chance, he’d show you that he wasn’t for play. “Don’t even play yourself like that, bruh. You know she would pick me everytime. Tell ‘em, mami. You just don’t wanna be rude..” Again though, you had no interest in making only one selection and rather..

“…who said I wanted to pick at all?”

leaving them both stunned and stopped dead in their tracks. At first, they were both a little taken aback. Completely misunderstanding what it was that you were saying. They figured that you meant that neither of them were on your radar and that you had no interest in being anything besides their friend. But once again, they were both wrong! With the look of shock still fresh on their faces, you’d waste no time in elaborating..starting with a kiss along Ryo’s jawline and whispering in his ear. . “I mean…why would I when you could both have me?” And it was then that their faces began to turn beet red! Illuminated with complete bashfulness. They knew that they had been pining after you something serious. Even making a few sexual innuendos here and there but never would they have guessed that you’d been down for something of this caliber.. “..you telling me y’all never thought about it? Because I have..all the time.” Uttering the confession with your tongue scaling the sides of his neck; flicking it over his tattoo. Meanwhile, your hand would snake to the backseat to massage Connie’s crotch. This silly little game was a moot point. What was the point of competition when they could simply work together to give you what you wanted?! Taking heed to your advances and obvious demand, they wasted no time in shifting gears.

“Well damn..if that’s the type shit you was on, all you had to do was let us know.”

Ryo, who was already groping your big, round tits, shoved his tongue between your lips and began to engage in a full blown make out session. Exchanging sloppy wet kisses, as you had been downing water in between your passes. Meanwhile, Connie would watch from the backseat, sort of aroused by the idea of spectating. He’d listen to your soft whimpers, the dirty words uttered into your ear and even how Ryo clasped your throat in his ink laden hands and immediately began to feel a pulse through the confines of his boxers. He’d discreetly cup the bulge and just slowly rub it as your ass jiggled from being folded over the console. Faint traces of saliva seeped from your mouths each time you both pulled away; only to find yourselves with one less article of clothing. Your hand had slipped into his black joggers and began tousling that growing erect around. You knew it was big by the visible print alone and could only imagine what it looked like. But before you could unveil the mystery and have too much fun, he’d stop and usher you to the backseat so you could both join Connie. “Climb back there..”

and they didn’t have to tell you what to do because the second you sat down in the middle, Connie would tap in. Bringing your face towards him and kissing you with such passion. Immediately wrapping his fingers around your neck and twirling his tongue around between your jaws. His hands worked to unclasp your jeans and once he did, that left hand would find its way into the seat of your panties..rubbing that clit whilst you stroked that cock in your hand. Running those fingers up and down that shaft; letting those duckbill shaped nails graze his tip. He was such an attentive and great kisser, you felt yourself growing wetter by the moment. Heating up on his very fingers..meanwhile, Ryo had joined the fray as well. Readjusting himself only for a split second to step out of the drivers into the seat behind him. Once he was with you both, it was up from there.

“Can’t let him have all the fun..c’mere, baby.” It was then that he’d shuffle his pants back down to his waist and allow you to stroke him as well. They had full fledged confidence that you knew what to do..going back and forth, exchanging kisses and gentle strokes..pumping each of them in your enclosed fists. Meanwhile, they’d take great joy in fondling your body. Ryo’s wide grasp encompassed both of your tits as he peeled your shirt away. Connie’s fingers were still tending to your sensitive cunt. Slick surrounding his digits as he worked them in and out..even massaging that thumb pad over your clit. In a matter of moments, they’d have you squirming in the seat and begging for more. Soon, Ryo’s lips latched on to your neck, suckling on the nape of it with a wild eyed expression. His raspy laugh ringing in your ear as he reached for your throat. Meanwhile, your palms were still clasped around their cocks, pumping the shafts with delicate strokes..without breaking stride, they’d use their free hands to rid you of those bottoms; shoving them down to your ankles where you’d kick them off. The same followed for your shirt, which Ryo tore open with minimal effort. Having long since discarded your bra, you were left with nothing more than a paper thin thong that was tugged to the side, along with your shoes that soon followed the rest. With you rendered completely nude, there wasn’t a thing holding them back..during the entire ordeal, they’d alternate between the different parts of your body; having their fill and taking their pick of what they wanted to indulge in next. As well as piling your head with compliments and salacious comments about what they wanted to do with you. Ryo not holding back a single detail of how many times he wanted you to come for him, even at the expense of his interior. Carefully examining that tight cunt spasming on his best friend’s digits. He had the utmost confidence that you could take the dick, regardless of their sizes. Luckily, the second and third row seating were laid back so you’d have ample room. Connie on the other hand, who had been honing in on getting you prepped..aware of how tight you were..couldn’t stop telling you how badly he wanted to use your throat. He’d often dreamt of seeing those pretty lips stretched around his cock..watching you gag, slurp and spit on it as it so carefully glided in and out of your mouth. And all you could do was whimper, thrashing yourself around on those knuckles to reach an inevitable orgasm and you were so damn close.

“Aye, Ryo. You think she’s ready, bruh? Feels like she is…what do you think?”

“I think so too, lil’ bro..say, love..you think you can handle both of us? We don’t wanna hurt you now..”

but they were both in for quite the surprise. You were far from the bashful type and you were about to give them something they’d never forget. Chuckling with your head suspended back, you’d chew lightly at your bottom lip before answering either of them.

“Handle it? Y’all better the fuck the shit out of me. I don’t like all that talking without action.” And with that, both Ryo and Connie were full and well aware of what they had to do if they wanted to keep you around! Ushering you onto all fours first, everybody got into position. You with your ass up in the air and back arched as Ryo saddles behind you. Connie sprawled out on the back passenger door as your head lowered into his lap. All you wanted was for them to use your body as they saw fit..fuck you until your legs gave out and a mess covered this backseat. “C’mere, mama. Lemme have that pussy..” with tattooed hands and fingernails digging into your hair, Ryo pushed you face down as he aligned that swollen cock head with your very sensitive slit. He couldn’t help but to be enamored with the plumpness of that pretty ass. That cute little asshole was already fluttering and that cunt dripping for him, preparing to stretch you open. Meanwhile, Connie was brushing that beautiful hair to the side so that he could line up with your mouth.

“Yeaah, there we go, mami. Eat this dick up..know you been waiting to..” and he was correct. Hence why it wasn’t a full five minutes before you’d find yourself stuffed full at each end. Deep groans released from each males’ mouths when the initial sensation of your holes hit. They couldn’t believe how silky and warm both of them felt. Letting out a simultaneous ‘fuck’, along with a laugh..they’d make haste in moving. You were more than well lubricated so they slipped in and out with ease. You’d bob your head slowly, up and down on Connie’s shaft whilst Ryo’s hands rested at the small of your back, slowly pressing those thumbs into those adorable dimples..sounds of clapping flesh and slurping began to emit throughout the vehicle and before long, all three of you were letting loose.

“Shit! Pussy’s so goddamn tight, baby..how you keep this from me all this time?”

“Fuuuck, mami. chupas esa mierda tan bien…” whimpering in a high pitched moan, he’d toss his head back and continue letting you work your magic. Those plump lips wrapped around that thick shaft as globs of saliva drenched down to his swollen balls. Without so much as a single gag. You took him nearly five inches down your throat before withdrawing and jerking him off. Even though he filled your esophagus. Leaving quite the sloppy mess in your wake. All while a sheath of creamy lather began to form as those thick cheeks collided with Ryo’s pelvis. You’d begin to whimper and beg each of them for more. “Yeah, mama..let us hear that shit. How much you love being fucked like a lil’ slut..” teasing before leaning down to lick up the curvature of your spine. “Mmph! Fuuuck..please, don’t stop.” And he had no intentions of doing so, especially when he’d reach underneath and curl his hand underneath and massage your clit. Making you twitch on that cock..but Connie wasn’t one to be neglected either. Because once you put your mouth back on him, he was done for. Lowering your head again, an entire sheath of saliva came spilling onto that shaft as you spat and continued pumping in your hand. Where you kept your focus, however, were on those round, full balls of his. Practically aching to the touch..apparent by the way his body trembled and those diamonds kept swinging and refracting against the star covered ceiling.

“Yeah, right there, baby. Suck that muhfuck—“ but just as quickly as he gave the command, he’d be halted in his tracks and his eyes would trail to the back of his head. “Fuuuuck! Oh fuck, do that again, baby. That feels so good.” Nearly catapulting out of his seat from the sensation of your tongue swirling around his balls and momentarily gliding over his entrance. He knew he’d probably never experienced something so salacious before. Talk all he might but Connie was a lover boy and most likely, incredibly vanilla. He preferred making love over rough fucking. Meanwhile, Ryo preferred his women to be freaky. The kind that would top him off and kiss him afterwards or let him put a foot on her head! He could only let out a hearty laugh as he watched his lil’ bro get bitched up!

“You a nasty lil’ bitch. I love it. Knew you was gon’ be a problem but damn…aye, Connie..you good, bruh?” Only receiving a loud whine back..knowing that you had damn near sucked the soul out of this man!

“C’mon, baby. Let’s switch.” And truth be told, he too needed a breather because if he persisted, you were going to be on maternity leave messing with him! Reluctantly withdrawing, he’d pull out and lay his erect across your back, spurting a trail of his precum across your skin. You all would maneuver around until the two of them had switched positions and you were flat on your back. Dangling your head, Ryo took hold of it as he leaned against the door and Connie spread you open. Pinning your legs back, he’d tap himself against your slick ridden, fucked out little hole..eliciting a high pitched whimper. One that hummed and vibrated against Ryo’s cock. It was such a euphoric feeling for all three of you. Especially with the sensation of that weed coursing through your veins. That thong dangled around your ankles and his wristwatch glistened under the lights as his hands clasped your ankle. Placing soft kisses around your calf. “Pussy’s so fucking wet, mami..damn.” Ryo was on the opposite end, thrusting into your mouth slowly with a gentle hand cupped around your throat. They were using you as they saw fit and you couldn’t get enough. They’d persist until they drummed out what would be the first of many orgasms. Which came not a moment too soon when Connie was pressing down into the center of your belly and pumping you full of cock. That’s when you felt it!…

“Damn! Let it out, baby..squirt on that dick, just like that.” Sending you into convulsions as he tapped himself against you after you all but pushed you out. But you were too busy having your mouth used as a sleeve to release any moans. But Ryo was aware of the way you hummed against him. Connie wasn’t going to be the only one having his fill. He wanted you to take his nut inside regardless of where it ended up. Tugging himself momentarily and seemingly premature, he’d hold you in place as he prompted you to stick your tongue out. Which you did with a wide smile on your face. “There we go.” Rewarding you with a long glob of spit afterwards. “Mmm, thank you, papi.” Showing your gratitude to them both. The two men would continue on their crusade to bring you to ultimate pleasure. Taking turns pounding in various positions..and entrances until finally..

“Fuck! On your knees, baby..just like that.”

“Suck that fucking cum out, mama..”

they’d instruct you to grasp both of their shafts and jerk them off until you milked them of every remnant of their cum. And it didn’t take long before you found your face splattered in both men’s semen and them rolling their heads back on their shoulders and crying out your name, along with a string of expletives. Needless to say, you all were good and spent. And very much satisfied with this little rendezvous! Even so, the gentlemen still couldn’t help but to question who was the better of the two. But if you hadn’t already made yourself clear, you’d iterate it one more time:

“Like I said, I don’t have to choose..I’m just window shopping.”

#cherry’s works ✦⭒ #crossover au #connie springer #ryomen sukuna #rarepair #jujutsu kaisen #attack on titan #connie springer x black reader #ryomen sukuna x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #told y’all I would do it #aot x black reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #modern au #black reader smut #jjk smut #aot smut #sukuna x black reader #connie x black reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #aot x black y/n #attack on titan x black reader #connie smut #connie aot #connie springer smut #aot au #jujutsu kaisen drabbles

[dcxdpdabbles]

If possible could you do the Batkids summoning the Ghost King on a dare?

It starts with Tim because most insane things do. Kon had sent him a link to a trend, asking him to try it the next time Young Justice got together.

He made the mistake of clicking on the link while sitting near his siblings in the gaming room. The audio is also on full blast because he didn't realize his headphones were out of battery.

Thus while waiting for his turn to play Mario Kart, a loud male moan echoes from his speakers. Tim freezes in his seat, staring at his phone in horrified betrayal, as seven heads snap in his direction.

"Ugh, Timmy? Those are videos you should be watching alone" Dick says with half a teasing smirk. "I know you're growing up and are curious about-"

"It's not like that! It's a summoning circle!" Tim yelps, turning the phone around. On his screen, five male teenagers sit in a circle, each holding hands. Moaning. The caption reads, "Summoning the Ghost King! What's your offer?".

"What the hell?" Jason squints as the teenagers in the video burst into laughter. They jeer and taunt each other good naturally, indicating the random moaning was in jest.

"Oh, I know that trend!" Cullen chirps from the floor. He's been hugging the bowl of chips all night, laying down on his stomach to keep it guarded from the others. "Basically, you try to summon the Ghost King by offering something random. Guess he doesn't respond to human sacrifices or the typical stuff, so people have been getting creative. I once saw a group of girls who burned their training bras and offered the King the ashes. The point is to pick the weirdest thing you can think of."

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. We have to try it." Steph announces, standing up. She pushes the coffee table out of the way. The rest of their siblings, who weren't as into the speeding game, perked up in interest. "What do we need?"

"Um," Tim scrolls through the comments. "We need four never before lite candles, each placed in the positions of the four directions. We have to sit crossed leg in a circle holding hands and call out to the King with a poem, and at the end, we make our offering."

Harper springs up. "I got some candles! Do they matter if it's scented?"

Tim checks online. "It's not recommended, but it's fine if they are."

"This is idiotic! Attempting to make contact with the Ghost King is far too dangerous. I shall take no part in this foolery!" Damian cuts in, face twisted into a- surprisingly- nervous frown. His hands are clasped tightly over each other while his eyes roam the room looking for unseen threats. If Tim didn't know any better, he said the brat was scared.

"Aw Dami, if you don't want to do a summons, we can play the game of life or something. It's okay to be scared of ghosts" Dick says, placing his hand on the kid's shoulder. He was obviously trying to comfort the kid but it has the opposite effect.

"I am not scared of a mere ghost!" Damian hisses. "I am merely stating we should not bother forces well out of our leagues!"

Jason snorts, planting himself on the ground as Harper returns. She had four different color candles, purple, blue, black, and green. After consulting with Cass- a human compass-she placed them facing the east, west, south, and north.

"Why did you make that disgusting noise Todd?" Damian demands narrowing his eyes at the striking man.

"Just admit you're scared of ghosts, brat. No one is going to judge you for it."

"I said I was not scared of a mere ghost. The Ghost King is far more powerful then-"

"Alright, alright. Damian is too much of a scary cat to play, but who else is in?" Steph cuts him off, a knowing glint in her eyes. The youngest flushes angrily before he marches between the green and black candle and sits with his legs crossed. A nasty scowl is playing on his lips, likely not noticing the high-five Jason and Steph share for getting him to join.

Cass gracefully falls right next to Damian, offering the younger boy a small. His scowl lessens just a little. Cullen crawls his way over, pressing the bowl of chips to his hip protectively once he's sitting up. He ended up between the green and the purple candle, offering Cass a smile. Harper lands next to Cullen, cracking her neck as if preparing for a fight.

Dick does an unnecessary flip over the couch to take the place between the purple and blue candles. Next to him, Steph sits, her knee bumping the blue candle slightly. Jason struts over to sit next to Steph right between the blue and black candle. Duke shares the space with him, giving just a slightly nervous chuckle as Tim and Babs push the black and green candle apart a little to squeeze into though Babs remains in her chair.

"Alright, so the person with the candle on their right side has to light it. Do it at the same time. Once that happens, we join hands and do chat about the poem. Says only one person has to say the words, but if you want, I can send the link in the family group chat so we can all say it?" Tim waits to see them consider it, but Cass excited nodding has him copying the link he found on an online forum. A few dings go around the room as everyone checks their phones. "Now we have to decide on a sacrificial offering."

"We should do our most embarrassing secrets," Jason suggests.

"No, no, our fabulous hair!" Dick perks up, flipping said hair in a dramatic flair.

"It has to be something we all share," Tim says, eyeing Duke's short hair.

The other teenager makes an offended noise. "My hair is fabulous!"

"We offer the gay." Cullen cuts in. The rest turn to look at him as he wiggles his fingers. "Ohhhhhh! We're all fruity~! Spooky!"

"Babs isn't," Dick puts in only to see his best friend shake her hand in a so-and-so motion. He gapes at her before throwing his head back and laughing "We really do flock together!"

"So we agree? The gay?" Tim tries to say seriously, but his lips are twitching too much, trying to suppress a smile. There is agreement around the circle. He gives on a single node before passing around the matches Harper had brought. "How are we going to do this, though. Do we just shout, "I'm gay," or are we giving material things?"

"Let's write our gay awakening on a piece of people," Babs suggests grabbing her bag from where it hands on her chair handles. She tucks out a spiral notebook and a few pens. "I read that summoning needs something physical."

Everyone agrees as they pass along the notebook, writing down their awakening. Tim raises a brow at Damian's "Jon Kent" but doesn't call him out for it. After all, Conner Kent goes under his little brother's writing in his own writing.

He does wonder who Danny Fenton is, but knows better than to ask Cass about her life before the manor.

"Okay, let's do this! On the count of three- one-two-three!" Tim calls, watching Damian, Harper, Steph, and Duke simultaneously lite at the candle. They all hold hands, reading off phones that are prompted up by either their legs or kickstands on cases.

"We call upon the Undead King,

The one who bridges the realms,

The one who wields the Ring,

The one who will lead dies and breathes!"

There is a moment of silence where Tim swears he feels a slight shock along his fingertips, but it passes too quickly for him to care. Seeing as he is the ring leader, he calls out to the air. "Oh great King of the Dead, my siblings and I offer you a list of our gay awakening!"

"Stop, stop!" The youngest yells, leaping to his feet. His eyes are wild, scrambling to a far wall like a cornered animal. "No! He's coming!"

"Coming out the closet, like mama, I like boys, I like pecs

Like the arms when they flex!" Stephs suddenly sings, swaying in her seat. Everyone laughs before joining, and Tim wonders if they should have recorded this when suddenly Damian shrieks.

"Damian, who-"

The candles' flames all turn green as a haunting voice echoes through the room. "Your sacrifice has been accepted."

Tim's mouth drops open as the flames rise into the air forming a portal of liquid green. Familiar green. No wonder Daimain had been so scared. That was Lazarus Pit water. This meant this was the real deal, not just a random trend popularized by stupid teenagers.

Leaping Lizards Batman.

"What-what do we do!?" Cullen yelps as a burst of wind rips around the room, throwing everyone back. A laugh that sounds far too much like the Joker is heard through the portal as everyone tries to get into a fighting position with the wind pushing against them.

A head of snow-white hair peaks out and they are greeted by a laughing teenager. "A gay awaking sacrifice list! That's hilarious!"

"Who are you!" Tim hears Jason demand over the howling wings.

Another laugh, but this time, it sounds like clicking ice cubes is a response. "I'm Phantom!"

Tim has a second to see, wide green glowing eyes before the ghost reaches down, snatches their list, and zaps away.

Cass falls to her knees with a look of horror. "They know"

"I told you this was idiotic!" Damian screams, shaking so hard he looks like he will burst into tears in only a few seconds. Dick rushes over to him, pulling the sniffing boy into his arms. "We must never do this again!"

No one knows what to do in the wake of actually succeeding in calling the Ghost King or watching Dmaian cry from fear.

A ringtone plays from Cass's phone, breaking the ill silence. Tim catches a glimpse of "Danny" with two little hearts before his sister grabs the cell and leaps through an open window with what could only be a squeal.

"What the fuck just happened?" Cullen asks, but Tim can only offer him a shrug.

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #Ghost King Summon Dare au #Basically Cass met Danny on the streets #Gay awakening cause Danny is gender fluid #Damian is really scared of Danny #Prompt #Hope you like! #Dead Silent

[ultravioletrayz]

Hiiiii since u take nsfw requests, can I get one of FEM!reader pegging Miguel? I just need to see his tight hole pounded by his sweet girl's strap for a change. Thank you!

SO yummy omg.

Pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x dom!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, prone bone, use of strap-on, anal (m. receiving)

Summary: you give miguel a well-deserved break

A/N: was weighing up making this mean dom or soft dom reader but opted for soft dom because migs is just a stressed little baby 🥺 (he's a 6'9, mutant adult man who could kick me so hard I fly into the sun and disintegrate)

Word Count: 831 (not proofread, probably some errors towards the end)

After a long, demanding day of work, all Miguel wanted was some kind of relief, which he immediately found in your embrace. Your touch, your scent, your smile, it all made Miguel feel at ease. Your presence allowed him to sink further into the mattress as you sit on top of his ass, your hands kneading and massaging the taut musculature of his broad shoulders. He couldn’t help the breathy moans leaving his plump lips as his muscles unravelled from their tense knots… and your hips pressed against his ass after a particularly deep thrust.

You pull your sparkly black strap-on almost all the way out so that the silicone is just kissing his puckered hole, before bottoming out once again in a slow, sensual rhythm that has Miguel mewling. His body lays flat against the bed, handsome face tucked away on top of his folded arms to muffle his pretty sounds, his heavy cock messily grinding against the plush mattress in time with your thrusts, the sheets damp and stained with cum and sweat.

“Así, mami. Se siente tan bien, tan jodidamente bien.” Miguel whimpers, lifting his hips up to meet your deep strokes with a choked whine. The sound of the lube squelching inside of his ass and both of your exasperated huffs make Miguel feel lightheaded, his renowned intellect becoming unintelligible babbling as the big dildo strapped to your stunning body stretches him out and drags against his tight walls. This moment with you, not worrying about his responsibilities or being in control, feels like heaven. Miguel has been craving a release, a way to force himself to escape the pressures of being a leader, and a protector. What better way than getting fucked by his pretty girl? (“Just like that, mommy. Feels so good, so fucking good.”)

With his fangs exposed, his claws tearing through the sheets, and throaty groans escaping from his lips, Miguel melts onto your cock. Miguel feels his stress dissipating with each thrust, your fat strap's bulbous head nuzzling his most sensitive, deepest parts and massaging his prostate. To keep Miguel somewhat grounded, you place a hand on his toned, slender waist. You also remind yourself to keep your gentle rhythm and concentrate on Miguel's pleasure, even though part of you wants to see the man who regularly spears you on his cock receive the same, deliciously rough treatment. But Miguel needs this moment of love and devotion, and you’ll do anything to remind your handsome man of your devotion to him and how proud you are of him.

“This tight hole was made for me, taking me so well,” You whisper, leaning over his wide, muscular back so that your honeyed praises still reach his fucked-out brain. “Mi niño bonito. You love my cock so much, huh, Mig?”

Miguel struggles to lift his head from his forearms, but he does so to look back at you, his handsome face covered in drool and tears as your sweet words and deep thrusts cause his eyes to roll back and he nods dumbly in response. You watch with awe and parted lips as Miguel’s hole pulses around you, causing the remnants of lube inside of him to bubble and ooze down his cheeks. It makes you giggle to see him approaching his climax once again, your hips rolling against him passionately as your hands wander across the glistening tan skin of his back, gliding your fingertips across his muscles and scars to worship his body as you make love to him.

His jaw goes slack as he moans and whines as you angle your sparkly strap-on to caress his sweet spot, the benevolence of your thrusts making him conflicted between crying and cumming. Against his own will, he chooses the latter.

Miguel desperately humps the ruffled sheets beneath him as he bucks his hips back and forth to encourage the depth of your movements, but the second your hands squeeze his waist to remind him to calm down and let you take care of him, he’s shooting thick, sticky ropes of his delicious cum into the puddle of his past loads accumulating beneath his abs, the sudden warmth against his bare skin making him whimper as his thick thighs shake and his back arches, subsequently making his ass press against the base of your strap-on.

“Sh-Shock’s sake…” Miguel pants, letting his head fall back down against his sturdy arms as you pull out of him, tapping his spasming hole with the tip of your silicone cock to beckon a few more moans from Miguel. “Gracias, mi reina. N-Needed that. Needed you to make me feel good.”

“Of course, baby. Anytime. I’m here for you.” You whisper, climbing off of Miguel and laying on your side next to him, the bedsheets squelching underneath you as Miguel’s cum spreads and darkens the material. The mess of juices was gonna be a bitch to clean up. But then again, so was the mess that is Miguel O’Hara.

I'm feeling evil and wanna post some miguel angst soon.

#ultravioletrayz #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderverse smut #atsv smut #miguel 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara fanfiction

[cevansbrat0007]

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. Be sure to check out the follow-up drabble, Sweet Tooth Deluxe!

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Arch Nemesis', Dominant Ari, Aprons, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Pussy spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @honeygngergemini. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari leans back in his chair, one long leg coming to rest atop his knee as he levels a hard look at Officer Milton Foster. He scrubs a tired hand over his face, his mind working overtime to process what the young man had just said.

“But that makes zero fucking sense.” He grumbles, groaning when he sees Milton just shake his head.

“Aye, man.” The dark-haired deputy  throws up his hands. “You asked me where I thought you went wrong and I told you.” He turns in his office chair to spare a quick glance at his computer. “Do not shoot the messenger.”

“No one’s being shot, alright? I just don’t get the logic behind any of the shit you just said.”

Couple that with the fact that you’d been icing him out for the past several days for reasons unbeknownst to him – which had left him in a god awful mood. He missed you. Your laugh, your warmth, your smile. 

All of it.

Not to mention that deliciously curvy body that had been keeping him warm at night. He really missed that. More than than anything he needed a fucking kiss.

But you were ignoring him. And Ari had discovered pretty quickly that he didn’t like any of it. Not one bit.

So, he’d turned to what he felt like was his only ally in this god-forsaken town: the newly minted sheriff’s deputy, Milton Foster.

“So you’re really trying to tell me that the reason my woman is pissed at me is because I ate Charline Marshall’s pecan pie at the town potluck, liked it, and asked for seconds.” Ari smooths an annoyed hand over his bearded face. Trying to understand Bell’s Creek’s local politics could really do a number on a person. 

“And don’t forget that she purposely dropped your lady’s bramble berry pie on the ground.” Milton does a quick spin in his chair. “She tried to pretend it was an accident, but most of us know better. Charline Marshall has eyes for you and I think she might be ready to make it known.”

“I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t even pick that woman out of a lineup.”  

Milton simply shrugs before taking another spin in his desk chair. “You’ve got a lot of admirers, Mr. Bounty Hunter. A man like you blows into town…well, you’re downright exotic. Every single red-blooded woman under 75 wants a taste.”

Ari visibly shudders before crossing his legs at the ankle. He didn’t want anyone else. This particularly surly Bounty Hunter wanted you. He only wanted to eat your food. Enjoy your sweets. Fall to his knees and devour the fuck out of your pretty little pussy.

“Hard pass, buddy.” Your lawman sighs. “I didn’t know shit about the pie incident. I mean, how could I when she was barely talking to me or anyone at that party?”

“Not saying it’s your fault, big guy. Logically, what would you have been able to do if she had told you?”

Ari looks up at him, his piercing blue gaze never once leaving the young deputy’s. “I would’ve taken her back to my place and spent the rest of the night making her feel better. I would’ve done everything in my power to take my girl’s mind off that petty shit.”

“Mmm.” Milton murmurs as understanding suddenly dawns. “I really don’t wanna get too deep in your business, but your lady is like a sister to me.” He leans back in his chair so that he can kick his feet up on his desk. “We used to play on the playground together as kids. And full disclosure, she used to beat my ass.” The deputy chuckles as he begins to recount all the way you used to be a tiny force of nature. 

“I…can see that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Anyway, I think your original plan was a good one.” 

“Meaning?” Ari leans over to take a sip of his now cold coffee. It tasted like shit anyway, even when it was hot. In fact he longed for you, his BIrd, to make him one of your little caffeine-infused concoctions – preferably while wearing nothing but his shirt. 

So he could also take a bite out of that luscious ass while you refreshed his mug. After all, he was a man who prided himself on his ability to multitask. 

“Meaning, you need to find a way to distract her while making your point.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re a smart fuckin’ guy who set his sights on someone who could easily be the most stubborn woman in the whole damned state.” A smirking Milton offers up a salute with his can of Dr. Pepper. “That’s for you to figure out. All I can do at this point is wish you luck.” 

“Thanks.” Ari grunts, wishing that he had a better idea of what to do with you.

Oh, rest assured that he’d figure it out. You were too important to him not to. He just hoped you’d find it in your heart to take it easy on him for his mistake. 

The Next Day

You wake up to the smell of cooking sausage wafting into your room. It makes you smile as you stretch your arms over your head. Your stomach growls in agreement, subtly reminding you that you’d neglected to make dinner last night. 

Oops. You hadn’t meant to forget, it had just happened. Normally you would end your night with speaking to your Beast of a Bounty Hunter, who always made sure you ate. But lately, you have been both mad at him and embarrassed.   

Because at a recent town potluck, Ari had eaten your rival’s pecan pie. Now, you weren’t children, but this had also been after she’d purposely sabotaged your own dessert by accidentally dropping it on the ground. 

Charline pretended that it had been a mistake. But the way you’d witnessed her laugh after the fact. And then she’d fed your man, reveling in every minute. You’d known her pecan pie was dry, but Ari had seemed to enjoy it. So much so that he’d asked for a second piece. 

Which was fine, except it had hurt your feelings. And you hadn’t been sure how to relay exactly relay that fact either. So you’d clamped down. You’d bottled up. 

And as a result, your poor, sweet man was suffering. Which meant you needed to apologize. But you weren’t quite sure how to go about it. As you sit up, you vow to yourself to give him a call today. As soon as you sat down and enjoyed your breakfast.

And then it occurs to you. You weren’t the one cooking. Which meant someone was in your house. 

You spring out of bed and grab your Louisville Slugger that you always kept nearby. Taking a deep breath, you quietly make your way down the stairs, your trusty bat poised to take a swing at whatever moron who’d chosen to take up residence in your kitchen.

Baring your teeth, you crest around the corner on bare feet, ready to make your presence known. 

“You gonna hit me, Bird?” Ari muses as he adds a dash of salt, followed by pepper to whatever it is he’s got cooking in the skillet. Your flippin' skillet. “Is that really how this ends? You take me out while I’m being kind enough to whip us up some breakfast?”

Momentarily flummoxed you find yourself lowering your weapon in favor of taking in the scene before you. This man – your Bounty Hunter – was currently standing in your kitchen clad in nothing but an apron. 

Your apron. And yet somehow it fit him better

“Wh–what are you doing?” You ask him, letting your baseball bat clatter to the floor at your feet. You wouldn’t need it. You were safe with this man, but only to a point. “And how’d you get in?” You hadn’t given him a key yet. 

That was supposed to be a present for later. 

“Eh.” Ari shrugs, flipping a pancake with surprising skill. “Maybe I saw my gift and swiped it after the potluck. Maybe you weren’t listening to me and I couldn’t get a read on you, so I had to be an asshole and make an executive decision.” He turns away from you to drop a finished pancake on a plate, giving you a fantastic view of his perfectly muscled ass.

“You mad?” 

“N-no.” You respond as you feel your thighs clench. God, how you wished that you’d come down here wearing pants. “I was actually planning to reach out to you today. Can I ask what you’re doing?” You shiver as you feel your thighs grow damp, your traitorous pussy working against you. 

You should be mad that your Beast had broken into your house. Instead you were happy to see him with a much deserved apology ready to fall from your lips. 

“Making you breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and sausage.” He adds another delicious pancake to the stack. “I’m gonna feed you, and then I’m gonna fuck you, and make you rethink ever ignoring me again.” He purrs, the intoxicating rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest. 

Fuck you were so wet it was almost embarrasing. 

“I’ve earned the rights to that tight little pussy, baby. And when I make a mistake like I did with that goddamned Charline, I want you to tell me.” Ari turns off the range, pulling the food off the heat and onto a plate.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, both hating and loving the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirts. Actually, it was one of his. A detail he also seemed to notice. “How can I make it up to you?”

Ari studies you for a moment, his handsome face tilting to the side. And then your eyes stray to the sight of his impressive erection. You watch as one of his big hands reaches down to fist his hard cock, pumping it once. Twice. 

“You can start by going back upstairs. I want you naked, on all fours. I want to come up there and feast my eyes on your soaking wet cunt.” His heated gaze bores into your own, making your already drenched core spasm one more. “And you’d better be wet for me, otherwise I’m gonna spank it. And you.” 

“O-okay.” You find yourself taking a step back, your hand clutching at the wall. 

“I’m gonna eat it baby.” Ari growls, his voice filled with a mix of unbridled lust and determination. “I’m gonna make that pussy fucking cry. And you’re gonna fucking take it. You hear me?”

“Yes.” You whisper, resisting the urge to reach down as you stroke your eager fingers over your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sir.”

He takes a menacing step towards you, his body delighting in the way that you shiver. You’d been bad. Which means it was time to pay the price. And what better man to exact that payment than your own handsome, 6”4 Beast? 

“And then I’m gonna fuck you in front of that brand new mirror I bought you. I’m gonna show you who owns that beautiful body and remind you why it’s important to talk to me when you need me.” Another menacing step. “And then I’m gonna feed those delectable curves after I’ve had my fill.”

“And then…” He tilts his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “You’re gonna let me kiss it all better while I make love to you.”

“Y-yes, please.” Right now you were willing to give this man whatever he wanted. Whatever helped you atone for your supposed sins.

“There’s a good girl.” He intones as he unties the apron, leaving him naked and aroused in your simple kitchen. “Now run.”

END

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[clairdelunelove]

Things Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Finds Attractive About You Pt.II

simon 'ghost' riley x reader, mentions of soap, price, gaz, and alejandro 

genre: fluff

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing 

synopsis: a couple more cute quirks that you possess that ghost can’t get enough of! headcanon edition! 

a.n. was this on your christmas list?? if it was then santa’s back in town babes :P but seriously, I hope that the holidays have been treating you well. stay warm! if you can, pls consider checking out my kofi and thank you for your continued support <3 

-

-

-

when you glance at him and smile 

you were doing it again 

it was the fifth time ghost caught your bright eyes glancing in his direction 

and it wouldn’t have come to his attention, after all eye contact was given in accordance to common courtesy if you were discussing matters with someone, but you were lounging halfway across the room 

ghost sat alone at the main table 

a couple members surrounded you,, occupied in light banter and small talk 

alejandro lightly nudged your shoulder, murmuring a casual joke that has soap roaring in laughter 

their boisterous voices carry throughout the room which causes ghost to peer up at them 

he couldn’t afford to lose concentration,, needing this alone time to debrief about the previous mission (i.e. which formation was most efficient, how many soldiers he still had left, if there were enough food rations) 

but 

taking a sneak peek couldn’t hurt 

fiddling with the strap of his holster, he wordlessly tightens the garment along his waist and watches as the corners of your lips curl into a polite smile while engaging in small talk with the group 

he spots soap place a gentle hand on your shoulder, the male twisting himself closer to you, as a way to balance himself while heaving over in laughter at another quip that alejandro shares 

before he can think better of it, a ragged breath leaves ghost’s lips at soap’s blatant display of physical affection toward you 

fortunately unfortunately his balaclava doesn’t muffle the noise of disdain which causes soap’s attention to snap to him 

“somethin’ you want to add, Lt.?” soap challenges with a raised brow, “might need to come closer so we can hear ya.” 

soap graces a sly smirk, inadvertently mentioning how ghost was literally the only one that strayed away by being halfway across the room 

and soap’s attempt at pestering the other male is glaringly obvious,, especially from the way his hand still lingers around your shoulder 

there’s a soft chorus of chuckles that erupt from the rest of the members but you simply await the lieutenant's reaction to the lighthearted prod   

ghost doesn’t take the bait though 

“I’ll bear it in mind,” he bluntly acknowledges while readjusting in his seat  

he wasn’t entirely against the idea of mingling but found that restocking/readjusting his equipment was the first priority 

the lieutenant’s casual response leaves the squad speechless,, most expecting him to reprimand soap from the insinuation and their astonished gazes are fixed on him 

ghost, however, continues to nonchalantly estimate the amount of ammunition left in his weapons 

that is– until a subdued giggle fills the empty air 

and he’s aware of that specific sound, doesn’t need to glance up to affirm his belief because it always tugs at his heart in an unfamiliar way

yet, his dark gaze still deviates to find yours 

“my apologies. it was just really quiet.” 

your voice is meek in comparison to earlier now that ghost’s scrutiny is trained on you and the detail leads to him raising a light-toned brow 

the top of his balaclava crinkles due to the action,, a small humane feature that you desperately cling onto 

soap also dropped his hand in response to your small outburst and satisfaction creeps up at ghost 

he nods once, ease swelling within him at the sight of your untouched shoulder, before returning to concentrate on the equipment in front of him 

“yer aff yer heid, bonnie,” soap whispers to you once light chatter erupts again, “I’d sure fix his problem.” 

“what’s his problem?” 

“the mask,” the scottish male huffs like it was obvious, “it’s always on–” 

“I quite like it.” 

you quickly interrupt soap’s rambling and he groans upon seeing your infatuated smile and usual faraway glint in your eyes that you adorn whenever you stare at ghost 

much like you were committing now 

“it’s the mystery,” soap wildly runs his fingers through his mohawk while attempting to explain your interest in the lieutenant, “that’s why the bonnies like him.” 

“well,” ghost’s listless eyes reach yours and you finish your confession in a wishful exhale, “I don’t blame them.” 

and ghost recognizes the look you’re casting him 

that bashful yet alluring glimmer in your stare that has him placing down whatever equipment he was holding so he could rightfully return your gaze 

and of course he hears your breathy disclosure,, revealing more than he’d bargained for 

but he’s steadfast, not planning on tearing his gaze away, when you abruptly break eye contact with him 

ghost blinks– once, twice, three times– upon losing your heated scrutiny an emptiness threatens to swallow him,, his body maneuvering to repose in your direction

legs stretched in front of him, he edges closer to where you stood while crossing his hulking arms  

but you’re caught in conversing with someone and his finger taps idly on the table to patiently await the moment your gaze sweeps over to him again 

it’s almost pathetic how he waits for your eyes to fix on him 

however, when it does, he almost lets out a frazzled breath from beneath his mask 

restocking his equipment could wait for another time because you grace him with one of those beguiling smiles that beckons him over– inviting the tempting risk and enticing danger that accompanies ghost wherever he goes 

he catches you red-handed when you give him a slow once-over,, dragging your half-lidded eyes across the expanse of his massive physique but finishing your scan with an appreciative simper 

and that’s when he finally moves 

firmly pushing out the chair from beneath him, his robust legs carry him towards you in a resolute stride 

a knowing grin dances on your lips due to his advancing,, the sight as clear as day when ghost shoulders past the members surrounding you 

he doesn’t mumble any apologies 

instead, he presses himself so close to you that he can distinguish your rapid heartbeat from beneath your fitted shirt and the cadence causes his head to tilt 

his ebony eyes narrow upon seeing the growing blush, a shade of rouge, overtake your cheeks and the innocent reaction would’ve fooled him if he didn’t know what you secretly were 

a vixen 

he dips his head lower and the next words he utters drips from his tongue like smooth ambrosia 

“see somethin’ you like, doll?”

-

your voice 

ghost had a love/hate relationship with missions 

on one hand, he was going in blind about the amount of recruits he’d lose

It was a constant risk of precious lives, one’s that had family/friends/people waiting for them back at home, with every mission 

yet, leading the squad through missions kept his mind still,, rendering him too busy focusing on basic survival than fighting the incessant thoughts within his mind that strangled him during his free time 

the loneliness, mental exhaustion, and emptiness eating at him until he could no longer stand it 

but there was also you 

“bravo 0-7, how copy?” 

filtering through the radio’s static, your voice is carried through as a gentle melody in ghost’s tactical headset 

the question cuts through the debris that he crushes beneath his heavy boots 

he recognizes a heavy exhale from one of the recruits following behind him and he raises a hand to silence them 

hearing your voice directions is crucial 

but secretly, he’s glad that the higher ups invested in the latest technology so he could hear your voice clearly 

especially the soothing inflection of his alias 

“this is bravo 0-7,” he replies, never one to delay his responses to you 

“lieutenant.” 

and he’s familiar with that pleased tone that’s shared in the troop’s comms 

the teasing purr of his rank visibly causes some of the newer recruits to freeze in their movements,, mind straying to less than innocent scenarios from the way you uttered it 

before he can control himself, he casts an annoyed glare at them that (of course) goes unnoticed by you 

his haunting eyes narrow considerably to wordlessly serve as a threat for their childish behavior 

“(y/n),” he directs his attention to the seedy enclosure before him, “give me a reading.” 

there’s a minute of silence, which ghost anxiously listens for any background noise that indicates if you’re in danger, before your voice crackles, “enemy ground cluster spotted. wiped them out asap.” 

“atta girl.” 

unbeknownst to him, your finger hovers above the communication button so the shaky exhale you let out from his praise isn’t heard 

and he’s aware you had to excuse yourself due to his subtle approval 

“target destruction confirmed,” captain price’s authoritative voice reminds ghost to refocus on the task at hand, “heading to the next destination.” 

the squad synchronizes their movements to head south, in accordance to the enemies’ location 

“where are your sights at, (y/n),” ghost implores while readjusting the mic so it sits snugly over his mask 

unfortunately, his finger unknowingly bumps against his equipment and puts the two of you in a private channel 

which you decide to take full advantage of 

he casts a cautious glance in all directions before gesturing to the recruits to fall in behind him 

it’s silent besides the branches that ghost prods away while he trudges through a clearing 

steadying the throwing knife in his hand, he recognizes the cool metal while the weight of the weapon is slight in his grasp 

as light as a feather 

he’s more than accustomed to the ridges, grooves, and feel of the knife,, using it in necessary combat situations

but his dependable grip, the one that’s effortlessly shoved the weapon into countless enemies, falters when you answer his inquiry in a breathy voice 

“my sights are locked on you, lieutenant.” 

and it’s a line that could be taken two ways: you were watching ghost’s six or you were solely engaged on him for personal reasons 

the fact was– your gaze was trained on him 

it causes satisfaction,, scorching hot which spreads through him and keeps him warm in the chilly weather 

and your utterance is as sweet as sugar that ghost is certain that you spout liquid honey when you part your lips 

he reasons that’s probably why your lips are always so glossy whenever he sees you 

ghost shifts, eyes trailing to the distant watch tower that you’re situated at, and slowly shakes his head 

you were up to no good 

“you’re trouble,” he reprimands but there’s no bite in his tone, “be good, will ya?” 

“and if I’m not?” 

there it is again, the sultry tone that drips from your voice to infer that there’s a double meaning 

he halts to a stop, dragging a gloved hand over his face in an attempt to regain his self-control, and fights back a strangled groan 

“come here then, pup,” his voice is so low-pitched that it serves as an inviting taunt, “say it to my face.” 

and his self-restraint is thinning, becoming nonexistent because of the dangerous game you were playing

the desire to remind you of the high risk that accompanies cheeky comments floods within him 

turning away from the other recruits to maintain some privacy, he’s initially pleased when he doesn’t hear your immediate retort 

it seemed like you were finally learning that fueling fire wasn’t always the safest decision 

but goodness did it create an indulgent buzz 

and he curses under his breath when your brazen response crackles through the comms 

“you serve our country,” your lips curl at the ends as you breathe out, “I just want to serve you.” 

-

when you laugh at his jokes 

honestly ghost wouldn’t coin himself as being a “jokester”

prefers if the other members told jokes to keep the mood lighthearted,, which he knows is essential to keeping up morale during missions

but if the time comes then his quick thinking is perfect for him to conjure up a joke or two 

granted, it wouldn’t be the best jokes 

ghost’s humor could be described as— interesting 

very interesting 

and a consensus that the other squad members agree with is that his jokes lean more towards dark humor >.> 

like don’t get them wrong! dark humor could be used to transcend heavier emotions and share stronger emotions,, which is especially the case for ghost but they prefer to keep the jests easygoing (for the most part) 

and ghost doesn’t really mind when his humor is overlooked in most situations since he understands it’s an acquired preference 

but boy do you live to test him 

“please? can’t you tell me at least one?” 

you were at it again,, forcing your hands together while you conjured up all your effort to make your bottom lip quiver in a dramatic pout 

leave it to you to corner ghost in the hallway right when he exited the maintenance room 

caught him by surprise too! had to abruptly halt to stop the front of his tactical vest from bumping into you since he almost didn’t spot you because you were tucked so close to the doorway 

he had raised a single, sharp brow to wordlessly ask if you needed anything from him,, mostly expecting that you’d usher him somewhere else to gather next mission’s intel 

but ghost didn’t predict that you’d practically raced across the base just to ask him to tell you a joke 

“just haven’t heard you tell one to the task force,” you casually explained which only added to his confusion 

and he doesn’t know what aided in your curiosity to hear one of his jokes since you never disclosed how it had been a topic discussed among the group,, about how hearing a joke from ghost was a rarity 

a part of you wished to prove them wrong 

so you drew your lower lip between your teeth and dragged your eyes up until they were leveled with his 

“please? for me?” 

he can hear the lighter pitch of your voice when you’re pleading like this but he remains unmoving,, only crossing his arms to watch the act you put on

the corners of your mouth fall almost unceremoniously upon noticing ghost’s impassive front,, the goal of hearing one of his jokes slowly floating further and further away from your grasp  

when you press yourself close enough for him to get a whiff of your sweet perfume, however, he rasps, “don’t do that.” 

“what?” 

“you think every time you say, ‘please? for me?’ I’ll do whatever you want,” ghost chides while slowly shaking his head, “well, not this time.” 

because he knows better than to give in to your every whim– no matter how insignificant it was 

it would build a bad habit if he always agreed to taking on your work or tasks,, which would evolve into small demands that he’d be burdened to complete along with his personal work 

at least, he thinks he knows better 

but then you nibble on your bottom lip and softly ask again, “please? for me?” 

and he finds himself huffing out a heavy breath, dragging his gloved hand across his face, and uttering, “fine.” 

so he stiffly stands there, lost in thought, until a couple awkward moments of silence pass

by this time you weren’t expecting much, assuming that ghost would rely on a cliche joke to tell you since you hadn’t given him much time to prepare in advance 

but his throaty voice knocks you out of your stupor, “what do you call someone who just got run over by a tank?” 

and there you go– you had all that you desired since ghost managed to tell you a joke 

he observes how you tilt your head,, mind racing in response to his joke before you ultimately give up with a small shrug 

his eyes follow the gentle curve of shoulders before meeting your gaze again 

ghost figures that he’d answer for you 

“crunchy.” 

a beat of silence,, ghost glances away  

there’s no way he would’ve envisioned the feedback you’d give him in return to his (rather) dark humor but hearing your overjoyed giggles made him think he’d hit the ultimate jackpot 

“that’s a good one,” you manage to compliment between your fit of laughter, “I liked it.”  

your hand outstretched to gently shove at ghost’s arm,, aware of the solid mass that served as the top of his bicep and you immediately withdraw your hand at the realization  

peering back at you, he recognizes the mirth that swirls in your eyes and notes the pride that swells within him 

because you’re laughing at his joke 

the intensity grips at him,, threatening to never let him go so long as you’re next to him 

it’s addicting 

he quietly continues staring at you as your mouth curves into a delighted smile 

and he tries to memorize the action,, comparing your smile to the brilliant half-moons that he’d spot in the dark skies during nightly missions,, and the sight is almost too beautiful to avert his gaze from 

similar to how a person that enjoys art ogles at intricate and exquisite paintings 

before he rethinks his decision, he decides to speak up 

“don’t smile at me like that.” 

and although it sounds like a reprimand, the words leave his lips almost tenderly as he gazes at you 

-

saying “please”

you weren’t typically one to complain about a long, drawn-out day because learning how to cope with them was part of your job 

but today just wasn’t your day :( 

from hauling extra equipment across the base, getting a light scolding from the higher-ups, and waiting for directions while in the frigid air– it was exhausting 

not to mention that the oncoming headache, as well as chills, indicated that sickness was upon you 

and as the back of your head hit the couch’s plush pillow,, your relieved exhale was a huge indicator that relaxing was the dream for you 

yet, having time to rest was too good to be true 

as price ushered the rest of 141 to gather around, there was a debate to enforce lookout duty for the night 

just the usual scouting for any navigation marks, ships, or hazards,, which was more difficult to spot in the dark 

there were clear directions given to the members on who would be put on lookout duty 

and what do you know, it was your turn to lead 

so you’re absolutely dreading your shift, desperately attempting to shrug the burden off to someone else 

“soap,” you hesitantly call out before the task force members could waltz to their own rooms, “do me a solid and trade shifts with me, will you?” 

there’s a flicker of consideration in soap’s cerulean-colored eyes when he notices your lack of energy and enthusiasm towards lookout duty but he’s unwilling to give up his few hours of rest as well 

“am pure done in. I can’t stay awake,” soap explains with a grimace, “sorry ‘bout that, bonnie.” 

forcing the frown on your face to turn into a stiff smile, you allow him to brush past you while you reassure him, “I understand.” 

then you were onto your next victim comrade 

“how about you, gaz,” you shift closer to the sergeant just before he leaves, “mind taking lookout duty from me?” 

he pivots using the heel of his foot, not quite expecting that you’d ask because you were usually the first to volunteer for the shift, and raises his brows 

gaz tips his cap in your direction to serve as an apologetic gesture, “afraid I can’t, (y/n).” 

and just like that, the entirety of the squad leaves you standing in the main room 

defeated 

your eyes catch the burnt-orange hue casted along the horizon, signaling that dusk was upon you and your stalling would be inevitable 

with a huff, you’re about to leave the room to situate yourself at the observatory deck when you catch sight of a lingering figure 

“lieutenant?” 

upon hearing his rank, ghost glances up from his task of dusting off his handgun and crumples the dirty rag in his hand 

he’s leaning against the edge of the table, feet spread apart to stabilize himself 

his dead-set eyes wordlessly prods you to continue talking and you force down the lump in your throat, “sorry. I was just surprised to see you still here, that’s all.” 

he’s clearly exhausted 

the usual tenseness in his shoulders has slowly diminished to where he appears withdrawn 

yet he thumbs at the weapon’s magazine and your eyes watch as the design on his gloves seem to dance at the action 

ghost nods once,, not one for small talk and you internally groaned at that late realization

silence ensues  

when an idea pops into your mind– why not ask ghost to take your watch duty? 

he’d understand, right?

inklings of doubt begin to gnaw at you but you were utterly desperate for rest tonight and your headache was worsening by the second 

“sir,” you meekly initiate before you have the chance to back down, “would you be willing to take my lookout duty shift?” 

your voice wavers, it’s blatantly obvious, and the anxiousness urges you to ramble on, “sorry! I don’t usually ask others to switch with me. it’s just been a really long day and I think I could benefit with some sleep. which, now that I’m thinking about it, anyone would benefit from sleep since everyone’s exhausted from the mission but what I’m trying to say is–” 

ghost raises a gloved hand

it’s a silent command to get you to halt and he rises to his feet 

you note the way his eyes deliberately scan the room before taking a step in your direction 

his tactical gear rattles,, the clasps slightly swinging due to the movement but he crosses the space between the two of you with ease 

the close proximity is perfect to get a glimpse of his opaque eyes which are obscured from smudged eye paint 

tucking his index finger underneath your chin, he lifts your face so you’re forced to maintain his stare, and his pale lashes flutter when he narrows his eyes 

“use your words.” 

the command is throaty, gruff, and deliciously low 

it takes you a second to regain your composure, inwardly stunned at how enticing his voice sounded, and decide to take a moment to gather your thoughts 

his touch is warm 

and ghost’s gaze was specifically fixed on you 

however, his hard stare flickers when your teeth gently tug at your bottom lip while you ponder the most effective way to get your point across 

you would need to use your final resort to sway ghost into covering your shift!

“I’m just not feeling the best right now and would really appreciate it if you took lookout duty instead.” you explained in sincerity 

it’s a good tactic– great even, but it wasn’t the final trick up your sleeve 

but it didn’t matter what you were explaining to ghost (whether you were giving him a half-assed excuse or ultimately feeling unwell) because he wasn’t listening,, too focused on the glimmer that shined within your wide eyes  

and the sparkle became more apparent under the dim light

ghost’s grasp tilted your chin upwards,, he’s silent and awaiting your next ploy 

he, however, wasn’t expecting the next word to tumble from your lips in a soft, pleading whisper 

“please.” 

his restraint runs alarmingly thin,, his finger that’s tucked underneath your chin twitches and the desire to encourage you to say it again is evident

“what was that?” 

the question is uttered so dangerously low that you gulp before softly repeating, “please, lieutenant.” 

and goodness did you look alluring while voicing it 

he’s at a standstill 

not to mention that he delights in the unwarranted swipe of your tongue over your plush lips,, wetting them just enough to shine 

and as he’s staring down at you, you’re peering up at him but he’s so unbelievably tall that you crowd yourself closer 

bloody hell 

the warmth radiating off your body reminds him of your proximity and before he can fall victim to your coquetry he reels back

who was he to tell you no?

“fine.” 

it’s a simple response uttered by ghost that immensely pleases you and you can’t help but wonder how permissive he was about it 

“really?” you question, brows shooting up in surprise because it was rare for the lieutenant to willingly volunteer to cover someone else’s lookout duty 

he drops the hand holding your chin and nods once 

busying himself by rechecking his handgun for full ammunition, he chastises how easily he made his decision 

can’t blame him though

ghost would’ve been a goner if you continued pleading to him using your expressive eyes,, the ones that cause his fingers to inch closer to hold you 

the most dangerous weapon he’s faced (in all honesty) 

and he’d rather NOT be rendered speechless in front of you 

he tucks the gun into the proper spot on his holster and turns to leave in accordance to his end of the compromise 

but not before he coolly mentions, “you should do that more.” 

you’re confused but ultimately satisfied to have finally issued your shift to someone else 

head tilting due to ghost’s comment, you decide to clarify what he meant 

“do what more, lieutenant?” 

“beg.” 

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon riley #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warefare 2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley headcanons

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part three)

(part one)(part two)

Everyone’s left to “let him get some rest,” but Eddie doesn’t rest, not really. Although he does drift off the second he closes his eyes, his sleep is not restful and his dreams are plagued: 

Chrissy Cunningham stood in his trailer, small blonde girl in her cheerleader uniform. If Eddie hadn’t only just come out of his room with an unopened baggie of ketamine, he might’ve thought she’d already overdosed. Her eyes were rolled back, body frozen stiff like she was having some sort of seizure. Eddie shouted at her, shook her shoulders, waved his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her face, but Chrissy didn’t respond. He feared she might collapse, but then she did something much, much worse: she began to levitate. 

Eddie immediately let go of her shoulders and scrambled back as some invisible force slammed the girl into the ceiling. Her bones snapped; one at a time, her arms and legs twisted in unnatural angles. Her jaw unhinged and cracked out of place, her mouth now stuck in a horrible, soundless scream. Her eyes bled, dripping red down her cheeks, and then they exploded, popped with a sickening squelching sound, and her eyelids caved in to empty, bloody sockets.

Eddie wakes up screaming. His heart pounds frantically, the monitor beeping like crazy, and all his muscles are tense like he’s ready to run. 

Someone is at his side immediately; a gentle hand slips into his own, a soothing voice asks if he’s alright and tells him it’s okay, he’s safe now, it was just a nightmare. Eddie recognizes that hand, that voice, that shape in the dark. When did Harrington come back?

Eddie’s gasping, struggling to inhale a proper breath into his fear-frozen lungs. His wild eyes dart over the figure sitting beside him before landing on the hand that’s curled around his. Harrington must misread something in his expression then, because he mutters, “Sorry,” and starts to pull his hand away.

“No,” Eddie manages, instantly grabbing the other’s hand again and gripping it tight. “Keep- keep holding onto me.” 

“Always,” Harrington whispers, the word an exhale under his breath, so soft Eddie thinks he may have imagined it. 

Harrington rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. His touch is calming, grounding. Eddie’s breath begins to even out and his heart returns to a normal pace as his residual panic slowly dissipates. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs heavily once he’s recovered a bit. He presses his free hand to his chest. “That was the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had in my life.”

“It’s over now,” Harrington says, still soft, still tracing circles across Eddie’s skin. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it can, because Eddie can still see those horrible images behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He says so, shakily, “Think it's burned into my brain now, though. It was so real, man, I’m not sure I’ll ever get her disfigured face and mangled body out of my head.”

Harrington pauses. “Wait a second, did you dream about Chrissy?” 

“Yeah, how did you-?” Eddie starts to ask, then stops as he remembers what Harrington had said yesterday about Chrissy being murdered in his trailer. The realization sets in with a cold chill. He shakes his head in horror, tightening his hold on Harrington’s hand like it's a lifeline. “No. Oh no, please don't tell me that actually happened.” 

“It did. I’m sorry, it did.” Harrington clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his now. “That wasn’t just a nightmare, Ed, that was a memory. You’re starting to remember.” 

“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters. If that’s what his lost memories are like, he thinks he’d very much rather them stay forgotten. “I’m starting to see why my brain blocked it all out in the first place, then. Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too?” 

“No…” Harrington frowns and that kicked puppy look flashes across his face, darkening the spark of hope that had just flickered in it before. “Well, maybe, I don’t know. I hope not.” 

“Great,” Eddie sighs, tired and sarcastic. He stares up at the ceiling where the gnarled ghost of Chrissy’s corpse still haunts his vision. “Can’t wait to remember more.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harrington says quietly. A heavy sadness runs thick in his voice again, same way he’d spoken when he first learned of Eddie’s amnesia. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and then lets go. 

So much for always, Eddie thinks dimly. His hand feels cold now, naked and untethered without the solid pressure of Steve’s fingers curled around it. 

“You should try to go back to sleep,” Harrington tells him. The mattress shifts, the springs creak, as he rises from where he’d been perched at the edge of the bed. In the empty space he leaves behind, Eddie only feels even more untethered. 

A sharp rush of panic grips him at the thought of being left here alone in the dark with the twisting shadows and afterimages of his nightmare. “Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls out immediately, before Harrington can even begin to turn away from him. “Will you stay?” 

“Yeah.” Harrington nods, murmurs, “I’ll stay.” 

~

So Steve stays. He stays and he sits in the stiff chair by Eddie’s bed, and he spirals. Of course he spirals, in the silence, in the dark. He can’t seem to do anything else in Eddie’s presence lately but let his mind spin around in circles ‘til it breaks. 

Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too? Eddie’s previous question is the catalyst of his spiral this time, the words that are currently echoing in the whirlpool of Steve’s consciousness, because he hadn’t thought of that before. He has already wallowed in the idea that he was something so unimportant he was easy to erase, but Steve hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he was something so horrible he needed to be erased. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The nurse did say Eddie’s amnesia was in part due to psychological trauma, and his memories do end just before he and Steve properly met. Was being with Steve so awful Eddie’s mind lumped it in with all the other recent traumas and just had to wipe it away? 

An ugly guilt twists beneath his skin, like a deep rot running black in his veins. Steve curls his hand into a fist in his lap, digs his fingernails into his palm as if the sharp bites of pain will help release what is dark and decayed inside of him. As if it will choke the voice in the hollow behind his heart that now tells him he deserved to lose Eddie’s love, or that maybe he never truly had it in the first place.

And, see, Steve knows he’s spiraling. He knows his brain has just tripped down some bullshit rabbit hole of self-deprecation and that really his despairing conclusions are not in any way rooted in reality. He knows Eddie loved him. He knows Eddie’s amnesia is not his own fault nor is it a reflection on him. He knows it’s got nothing to fucking do with him. Yet nonetheless, his mind continues to tumble downwards on a quest to prove the opposite. The rot still festers; the hollow still whispers.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie’s soft-spoken words eventually cut through the quiet and shake Steve from his lamenting thoughts. 

He sits forward. “Yeah?” 

“I can’t sleep,” Eddie says. “Do you, uh- sorry, could you…maybe hold my hand again?” His voice is small like he’s asking for something embarrassing, and his hesitancy kind of breaks Steve’s heart. “Just until I fall back asleep. It just- it makes me feel safer.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Steve scoots his chair closer to the bed and gently takes hold of Eddie’s hand again. 

Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale of relief, his body beginning to relax almost immediately. He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 

“Anytime,” Steve whispers in response. Always, forever, anything; because I love you, want you, need you, miss you. He swallows down the emotion that rises in his chest. Another spiral threatens to drown his mind again and he fights that off too, tries not to think about everything that fucking hurts. 

He focuses on the familiar feeling of Eddie’s hand in his (it’s bittersweet; he’s not thinking about it), on watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he slips back into a more peaceful sleep (he wants to kiss his forehead, tuck him in like a child; he’s not thinking about it).

Steve leaves first thing in the morning. The second Wayne walks in and Eddie now has someone else there to watch over him, Steve tells the older man briefly about Eddie’s nightmare and then he’s out the door before Eddie even wakes up, and he doesn’t return that day. 

He can convince himself, illogically, that it’s better for Eddie if he stays away - that Steve’s spiral was right and he’d only make Eddie uncomfortable in the daylight; the less he’s around, the less the rot inside of him can poison Eddie too. But also it’s selfish. Mostly it’s selfish. Because as much as Steve craves to be near him, it hurts far more to be around him and not be seen, not be known, not be loved. The ache of missing him when they’re apart is so much easier to bear than the ache of missing him when he’s right in front of him.

Still, Steve does come back that night. He doesn’t want Eddie to be alone, and with Wayne working graveyard shifts and everyone else having parents to answer to, Steve is the only one left who’s both willing and able to sit with him through the night. He has a feeling, just a feeling, same as he’d had the night before, that Eddie might need him again. Well- maybe not him specifically, but just someone, anyone, to comfort him in the dark, and Steve can be that someone. And maybe that’s selfish too, because it feels good, eases the ache a bit, to be the one to help Eddie, to take care of him. If Steve cannot be loved then he will settle for being needed.

Good for them both, then, that Eddie does end up needing Steve that night. Eddie jolts awake from another nightmare memory - this one about being chased onto the lake by Jason Carver and watching another body float above the water and be crumpled and killed by Vecna - and Steve is there once more to hold his hand and soothe him back to sleep.

And then, again, Steve is gone the next morning, back the next night. Such is the pattern he’s fallen into, the selfish, stupid pattern: gone when he cannot feel loved, back when he can feel needed. 

Tonight is the worst nightmare yet. Steve can tell it’s bad even before Eddie wakes. The heart monitor begins to beep more rapidly, Eddie whimpers and twitches in his sleep. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and tries to ease the nightmare before it worsens, though to no avail. 

Eddie doesn’t wake up screaming this time, but choking and crying, rasping through hyperventilating breaths fragmented nonsense about bats and pain and death. He doesn’t seem to be completely aware or lucid right now, still stuck in his nightmare where he’s dying and he’s scared, so scared. 

“Shh, Eddie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Steve can’t stand to see him like this. Holding his hand isn’t enough. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” He doesn’t even think, just climbs onto the bed with him and very very carefully, very very gently, sits them both up and pulls Eddie onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re alright,” Steve continues to whisper softly, lips brushing against Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.” (The pet name just slips out; neither of them notice.)

Eddie clutches Steve’s arms, leans back against his chest and tucks his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. He’s trembling, breath still rapid and panicked, not yet free of the waking dream he’s trapped in. “I died- I’m dead- I was dead,” Eddie keeps babbling in shaky, sobbing gasps. “It hurts- and I died. I don’t- I don’t wanna die- I don’t-” 

“You’re not dying, Eddie, you’re not. You’re okay,” Steve reassures him. “You’re alive.” He gently pries one of Eddie’s hands off his arm and guides it to the boy’s chest, covering his hand with his own as he presses it over Eddie’s heart to give proof to his words. “Do you feel that? You’re alive, you’re so alive.” 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath, lets out a tremulous exhale. “I’m alive,” he repeats, his voice wavering like he’s trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t quite believe. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, still holding his hand over Eddie’s slowly steadying heartbeat. “You’re alive.” 

Eddie repeats it again, a little more solidly this time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I’m okay.” His hyperventilating has finally begun to ease, his tremors gradually dissipating. He seems to wake up a bit more now, settles back into reality. He rolls his face out of the crook of Steve’s neck and tilts his head up to rest it against his shoulder instead as he looks at him. “Steve,” Eddie says, not like a question or the beginning of a sentence, but more like he’s only just now becoming aware of who’s holding him. 

Steve gives a small hum of confirmation in response. He doesn’t know if Eddie is going to want him to move now, if the way they’re situated is uncomfortable for him or if Eddie is even okay with this situation at all. Steve can’t tell. He should’ve thought of that first. Holding his hand is one thing, but pulling Eddie half on top of him and holding him there is another thing entirely. And Eddie doesn’t know him anymore. Steve wouldn’t blame the guy if he freaked out at coming out of a panic attack to find himself in some strange man’s arms. 

But Eddie just closes his eyes, goes quiet and still for a few long moments, and so Steve stays where he is, assumes Eddie’s trying to go back to sleep. Steve will keep holding him until then. 

“Why are you always here at night?” Eddie asks suddenly, opening his eyes again. So he’s not trying to go back to sleep. 

The question catches Steve off guard, and not just because he hadn’t expected Eddie to speak again. “I, uh, I don’t want you to be alone- you know, with your nightmares.” 

“No, yeah, I know, and I-I’m grateful for that, but,” Eddie clarifies, “I meant, why are you always only here at night? I know you’re around during the day, dropping off one of the kids or Robin or whatever, you just don’t come in. Like- you’ll hold me through a nightmare, but you won’t actually hang out with me and just, like, eat shitty hospital food and watch shitty hospital TV with me. What’s up with that?” Eddie looks up at him. His tone is light enough, but there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, and a confusion that borders on hurt. “Thought we were supposed to be friends, Harrington.”

“We are,” Steve says immediately. “We are friends. I just- I didn’t want to force that on you or-or make you uncomfortable or awkward or anything. I know you don’t know me anymore.” 

“Well, you haven’t given me much of a chance to get to know you again,” Eddie states plainly, and that catches Steve off guard too. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to.” 

“Of course I want to,” Eddie mutters. “You’re a decent guy, Stevie. Not how I thought you’d be. Maybe I want you to keep surprising me.” 

The way one corner of his mouth quirks up then, popping a dimple in his cheek, makes Steve’s heart stutter, chest warm with a rush of affection. He can’t help but smile a little too. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Eddie echoes, smirk stretching into a proper grin now. He taps his fingers where they rest on Steve’s arm. “You better hang out with me tomorrow.” 

“I will,” Steve agrees, because how can he say no to a smile like that? “Promise.” 

~

Satisfied, Eddie closes his eyes and settles back to try and fall asleep again. A lingering fear still runs like an undercurrent beneath his veins though, scared of sleep and dreading the possibility of another nightmare, another memory. He shifts, pulls Steve’s arms a little tighter around him. Eddie never seems to have bad dreams once Steve is holding onto him.

(part four) taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (i have hit my limit on amount of people i can tag in one post; taglist will be continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. no longer accepting any more additions atm!! also, thank you guys so much for all the support on this so far omg??? this is insane for me and i'm so glad y'all are enjoying my writing <3)

#progress progress progress #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic #<- specific tag for this fic

[moonstruckme]

i don’t know if this is something you might feel comfortable with writing but could you do something like any of the marauders or poly!marauders where they have a moment of misogyny. it could be towards reader or just in general during a conversation. i think it’s really interesting considering their time period isn’t really that progressive yet.

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Three days ago, you’d decided to go on strike. Three days, and now the sink is completely full of disgusting, almost-smelly dishes with food still crusted to them. 

Sirius simply doesn’t do dishes. Ever. You’re not sure if it’s some kind of rich boy syndrome where he thinks he just puts them in the sink and then later they magically disappear, but the assumption that he doesn’t have to clean up after himself is really starting to grate on your nerves. 

You have to remind yourself that Sirius is a great boyfriend. For the most part, you like living with him, you really do. He brings you home sweets after he gets off work, he gives you lazy massages while you sit watching TV at night, and you may be biased, but you think he’s generally a delight to have around. 

So for a while, you tried to tell yourself that it was worth having to do a few extra dishes. You love him, and he loves you, and there’s no reason to rock the boat, right? You could do this extra thing for him, just like he does so many for you. But eventually, it was the lack of appreciation that got to you. 

When Sirius takes his plate to the kitchen after dinner, you keep your voice light as meringue. “Would you mind washing that, please?” 

“Why?” 

Ire flares to life faster than you knew it could. You think your eye twitches. 

“Why?” you repeat.

“Yeah.” Sirius turns to look at you over the kitchen counter, and the confusion is so plain on his face that it mollifies you slightly. “Can’t you do it?” 

“Why would you assume I’m going to do it?” 

He shrugs. “Because you like cleaning stuff, right?” 

You force yourself to breathe in and out through your nose, but despite your best intentions, the words come out with a sharp edge. “Not really.” 

Sirius actually blinks in surprise. “Oh. But I thought…you’re always saying Sunday is relaxing for you because it’s your cleaning day.” 

“That’s because I like to have things be clean, Sirius. Not because I like cleaning.” 

“Oh,” he says again, seeming somewhat lost. “Okay, I’ll just…wait, is that why all these dishes are in the sink? Have you been trying to tell me something?” 

“Those are all yours.” You’re burning through your fury fast, and you know what will be left after it’s used up. But you’re not going to cry about this. You will not. 

“I didn’t realize.” Sirius looks up at you, a crease forming between his brows. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, I had no idea. I just thought you liked doing them yourself.” 

“It’s fine,” you say, but it’s not, and your voice is taking on a slight wobble despite your determination to keep it out. “I just…I wish you wouldn’t have assumed that I’d always do them for you. It kind of hurt my feelings that you never asked, or said thank you.” 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius sets his plate down, coming around the counter. He hesitates a second, looking back at the pile. “I’m going to do those in a second, okay?” he reassures you before crossing the rest of the distance to where you sit on the couch. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous. I’m an idiot.” 

You nod up at the ceiling, blinking to keep your tears from falling. 

A ring-clad hand finds your shoulder, thumb rubbing into your collarbone. “Hey, just let it out.” 

“No, I’m still—” you draw in a breath, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I’m still mad at you. Just ignore this. I don’t want to cry when we’re in a fight.” 

“We don’t have to be in a fight,” he suggests. “I’m sorry for all of it, I was totally in the wrong. I didn’t mean to make you feel…baby, hey, would you look at me?” 

You take a deep breath before you do, more tears falling as soon as gravity allows them. You try to ignore them, but Sirius sets a hand to each cheek, thumbing them away. He looks miserable, lips pressed into a thin line to hide his own discontent. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated,” he says softly. “I do appreciate you. You do so many sweet things every day, and I appreciate them so much. But you’re right, I wasn’t appreciating how you were cleaning my dishes for me. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.”

It all feels really good to hear. Part of you wants to let him go on, but you have too many questions to stay quiet. “You never did your own dishes before, did you?” 

His eyes drop to your shoulder, embarrassed. “No. I guess it might have been my mother, or we had some, like, help” —his face contorts as if the word tastes bitter in his mouth— “but I actually never asked who did them. Pretty fucked, huh?” You agree, but you play it down with a one-shouldered shrug. Sirius seems like he’s feeling guilty enough without your help. “And then in my last place, it was just James and I, so we used pretty much paper everything. No dishes to clean.” He shakes his head at himself, dismayed. “I never even thought about it. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I put that on you without even thinking.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. Then, at the look he gives you, “Okay, it wasn’t before, but I think it can be now. It was…a tad inconsiderate, but now you know, right?” 

He nods determinedly. “Now I know. Promise.” 

“And now you’re not just going to assume every woman in your life will do the housework for you?” 

Despite your teasing tone, Sirius brings a hand to his face, his head lolling back despondently. “Fuck. I’m a real piece of shit, huh?” 

“You were acting like one,” you say laughingly, reaching forward to give him an affectionate shake by the shoulder, “but you’re not.” 

When he tilts his head towards you again, hair falling in his eyes, there’s still evidence of guilt lining his features but he seems to be trying to get back to his usual levity. He pouts at you, taking your face back between his hands. His rings are cool against your skin. “I can’t believe I made you cry because I’m too much of a prick to do my own dishes.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to cry.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I don’t want your pity, Black.” 

Sirius’ pout worsens, his thumbs stroking over your cheeks. “I can’t help it. You did weeks of unpaid labor.” He kisses the skin above your nose tenderly. “My sweet girl. You should have told me earlier.” 

Your face warms a bit under his hands. “I did sort of take the petty route by letting your dishes pile up.” 

“I’ve earned some petty treatment,” he says firmly. “You should have let my dishes pile up from the first day I moved in. You should have put them in my room so I’d have to ask about them. In my bed, under the sheets.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Jesus, I’m not that cruel. That’d be disgusting.” 

“I know, baby,” Sirius laughs, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. “That’s because I’m the petty one. You’re just in training.”

#sirius black #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x self insert #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black angst #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black baby blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[lambertdiary]

FAKE DATING WITH MIKE PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU the plot can be whatever you want but please

A/N: The 'fake dating' trope is genuinely one of my favourites so it's safe to say I had a lot of fun coming up with the plot for this one. I'll post a part two if you guys enjoy this one, so please let me know what you think!!

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: language and I guess that's it

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

This Love Is Just For Show

It was a slow day at your job. Even though it was a Thursday morning and it was usually really busy at this time, the number of customers coming through the door was significantly lower than any other morning, but you were thankful that you didn’t have to do a million things at the time this early.

You worked at a coffee shop and have worked there for a while, so you were used to the crazy job and by this point, you remembered most of the recurring customers, but you always waited for one in particular.

You heard the little bell that indicated that a customer had entered the coffee shop, so you quickly finished arranging the coffee cups behind the counter before turning to greet your customer. You fought the smile that threatened to creep its way onto your face when you saw who it was, and gave him a nonchalant expression instead.

“Hey Mike”

“Hi” He greeted you back with a smile.

“You want your usual, right?”

“So no small talk today, I suppose” Mike leant his forearms on the counter.

“Sorry, it’s kinda busy back here”

He looked around at the almost empty café “I’m not gonna steal more of your time then. I’ll have my usual”

You took a medium cup and used it to cover your smile, marking up his exact coffee order and writing his name at the bottom.

“You know, my offer to go out for coffee still stands. Maybe at a place you don’t have to make it”

You giggle as you put down the cup, typing a few words into the computer in front of you “You’re very sweet Mike but we’ve been through this, I don’t-”

“Date customers, I know” He finished your sentence.

“Look at that, you do remember. And yet, you keep on asking”

“Just hoping you’ll change your mind, I guess”

You shook your head “Not gonna happen”

“Alright, I’ll stop” He took out his wallet and paid for his drink “I’ll just try again in a month or two. Thanks”

He immediately walked to the other end of the counter to wait for his drink, constantly eying you while you took someone else’s order. You were looking his way too, but way more discreetly than he was.

When he finally got his coffee, he thanked your coworker and walked towards the door, turning his head around for a moment to face you “Bye, I’ll see you tomorrow”

Your eyes lingered on the glass doors after he left. You thought he was attractive, sweet, funny and just nice to have around, but you didn’t know whether you liked him like that or not but sometimes you thought you’d like to find out and go out with him, but you couldn’t do it. The real reason you had rejected every single one of his invitations wasn’t the one you gave him every time he asked, it was because you got out of a messy relationship 6 months ago and you weren’t ready to commit to anything, not yet.

Hours later your shift finally came to an end and you were ready to get out of there, you had a lot to do after all. You were in a hurry, so after taking all of your things you made your way to your car and drove to the grocery store.

After finding a parking spot you entered the massive building, guiding the shopping cart in front of you. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts looking down at your phone as you checked your shopping list, you didn’t notice the familiar face quickly approaching you.

“Y/N?” Your head snapped up as you immediately recognised the voice. You forced a smile while trying really hard to keep your eyes from widening.

“Nick, hi” The shock of seeing your ex-boyfriend for the first time since the breakup was more evident than you had intended.

“It’s been so long, how have you been?”

“Good, things are good” An awkward silence took over your conversation as quickly as it had started. The two of you smiled at each other politely, discomfort present in both of your eyes “How about you?”

“Amazing, actually” You nodded at him in response, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully, someone else joined the conversation. A girl you recognised as one of Nick’s friends from when you were dating him.

“Y/N! It’s been so long” She approached you for a hug, which you politely accepted.

“You remember Emily” Nick said as you pulled away.

“Of course, hi!”

“This is so funny, we were just talking about you last night” Emily said, standing closer to Nick and slowly wrapping her arm around him.

“You were? Why’s that?”

“She suggested we invite you to our engagement party this weekend”

Engagement?

“Oh my god, you guys are engaged” If you weren’t in shock before, you certainly were now “That’s amazing!” You wrapped your arms around them and pulled both of them into a hug, hoping this would prove to him that you really were happy for them. Even though that was far from the truth.

You pulled away after a few seconds, building up the perfect fake smile “I know it’s a bit of a shocker since Nick and I were just friends when you guys were dating, but I hope it’s not weird or anything”

“Please, not at all. I- I’m really happy for you guys”

“Thank you” Emily held your hand momentarily before dropping it and taking it back to her financé’s arm “So, are you coming?”

You thought about it for a moment. You really didn’t wanna go, but you thought that if you showed up you would show them how okay you were with their engagement. Even though you weren’t, since you broke up with Nick just six months ago and out of nowhere he’s engaged now, and you… you hadn’t even gone on a single date since then.

“Of course I’ll be there”

“Great! Should we save an extra seat for a special someone?” Emily asked with a wink.

You could feel your face burn as you thought of the lack of a love life, but your mouth was faster than your brain “Yes, I’ll bring my boyfriend with me”

Fuck.

“Oh” You hear Nick whisper.

“I mean I’ll ask him if he can make it, but you know, he gets really busy sometimes, so-”

“Okay, well I’ll have Nick text you the details later but I guess I’ll see you on Saturday!” Emily pulled you in for another hug, and Nick just waved at you as the both walked away from you.

You were left standing there alone, feeling like a complete loser. You didn’t have feelings for him or anything, and you wished you didn’t care about his engagement but you just couldn't help it.

Your relationship with him was complicated, and your breakup was so messy it took a while to pick up the pieces, and the main reason for that was because he swore he would never want to get married. After being together for a couple of years you moved in together for a few months, leading you to think he’d propose eventually, but he said that was the most you’d get from him. Now six months later he’s engaged to one of his friends…

You barely had the energy to finish with your grocery shopping. You were cursing yourself for saying you would go to their engagement party and on top of everything making up a fake boyfriend. Why couldn’t you just say you were busy? Any other answer would have been better than that.

You went home with a lot on your mind, and Nick’s text with all the details for Saturday just made it worse. You let out a loud sigh as you collapsed on your bed, going through your contacts list to see if you could find someone who would be willing to be your fake boyfriend for a night.

You quickly gave up as you realised how crazy it would be to make such a request, so maybe it would be better if you came up with an excuse and said you wouldn’t be able to make it.

Unless…

You typed Mike’s name on your contacts, hoping you’d find his number there. He gave it to you a couple of months ago, written on a napkin after going to the coffee shop for a week straight. You were almost crossing your fingers, urging that your past self saved it, but you assumed you got rid of it since it wasn’t on your phone.

You sigh again, too tired to think of more solutions.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

The next day wasn’t any better. The party that was taking place the next day was flooding your mind and unfortunately for you, the possibilities of ending up looking like a loser in front of everyone were high.

Everyone around you seemed to notice something was off, but with the busy morning that kept everyone doing something they didn’t have time to ask you the reason. That was definitely a relief, you would hate to admit what your current problem was.

Customers kept coming and that almost made you forget about the whole fake boyfriend thing, until you saw Mike approach the counter with a big smile.

“Hi” You shyly smile back at him.

“Hi, I’ll just have my usual”

You nodded as you grabbed a medium cup. You were debating in your mind whether or not it would be a good idea to ask him for help, but the simple thought of those words leaving your mouth made your face turn a bright red.

“And I’ll also have a cupcake”

You looked at him with furrowed brows. He had been going there every day for at least a couple of months and he never tried something new, so him making an addition to his order took you by surprise “Oh, what’s the occasion?”

“Buying a few extra seconds, I guess” He replied like it was no big deal. He took out his wallet ready to pay for his order, smiling when he noticed your blushed face.

If he was willing to buy a cupcake just to talk to you for a little longer, maybe he would be down to go to a party with you and pretend to be your boyfriend for a night. After all, he had been begging you for a date nearly everyday since the day you met him, and that would count as one, right?

You looked at the cupcake tray that was sitting next to you, naming the cupcake flavours while you kept a collected expression despite the heat rushing to your cheeks as you wrote your phone number down on his cup, right next to his name.

“Uh- we have vanilla, chocolate, blueberry-”

“Which one is your favourite?” He interrupted you.

“Red velvet with cream cheese frosting”

“I’ll have that one”

You tried to suppress your smile as you reached for the cupcake, blushing a little harder when your hand brushed his “Enjoy it”

“I will, or I guess I’ll let you know what I think on Monday” You looked down and grabbed his receipt, keeping your eyes fixated on the screen in front of you when you handed it to him “Thanks” Mike said, and you panicked when he started to walk away, and once again your mouth acted on instinct.

“I get off at 4” You spit out, making him stop and take a step back as you cursed yourself for how pathetic you sounded.

“Huh?”

“Today, I- I get off at 4” You repeated, thinking of something else to say “You can call me and- and maybe I’ll see you later”

A smile appeared on his face “Yeah, sure. I’ll give you a call” He nodded quickly, but stopped when he realised “I’d love to have your number, though”

“On your cup”

His smile grew bigger, and you could almost notice his tinted cheeks “I’ll talk to you later, then”

You nodded as he walked away, pushing away your embarrassment as you fixed your face to attend a new customer. You tried to stay focused on the order, but the cheeky smile from your coworker made you blush again.

“Shut up” You said, rolling your eyes at her.

The rest of the day went by painfully slowly. You were dying to check your phone to see if he had called you or at least texted you, but it was so busy that you didn’t have the time for that.

At the same time you were hoping he’d take his time reaching out to you. You felt guilty dragging him into your little show and you knew if you went out with him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from asking him.

When your lunch break came you literally ran to the back to get your phone, your heart skipping a beat when you read the last notification.

Unknown: Hey, it’s Mike

You saved his contact right away, and then took a little too long to think of a response, writing and deleting the message a few times before finally sending one back.

You: This is Y/N!

You rolled your eyes at your own message, and only a few seconds later your phone started ringing, his name showing on the tiny screen. You froze for a moment, but rushed to answer when it rang for the second time.

“Hi” You said in a shy tone.

“Hi. Sorry for calling but it’s way easier than texting”

“Don’t worry, I agree” You let out a little giggle before continuing “I guess I should apologise for earlier today”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, writing my number on your cup-”

“No need to apologise” He interrupted you “I’ve been meaning to ask you, what changed?”

‘I ran into my now engaged ex boyfriend and made up a fake boyfriend so I desperately need your help’ you thought to yourself, but of course you couldn’t say that, not yet anyway.

“I, uh- I thought about your offer, and coffee sounds nice”

“Well… I know a place, they have the best red velvet cupcakes-”

“Definitely not here” You stop him before you let out another laugh, even though you knew he was joking “We can meet somewhere else, what time do you get off?”

“Oh, so you really did mean tonight” Mike sighs loudly, taking a hand to his hair as he tries to think of someone who could babysit his sister.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to bury your embarrassment at how desperate you sounded “Sorry, we can try some other time-”

“No” He’s quick to cut you off “I just need to find a babysitter for Abby-”

“Who’s Abby?”

“My little sister, but the babysitter leaves at 6”

“Right, I understand” You try to think of a solution without sounding more desperate than you already were, but maybe it was for the best if you didn’t see him tonight.

“I’m gonna call her and ask if she can stay with Abby for a little longer tonight”

That makes you feel bad, thinking about his little sister stuck with the babysitter just because of your big mouth. You start to come to your senses, there was no way you could lead him on like that.

You let out a loud breath before saying “Mike, actually I think it’s better if we leave it for another time”

He stays silent for a moment, but then finally replies “Uh- yeah, that’s okay”

“Sorry, it’s just-” You stop when the clock on the wall tells you your lunchtime is over “I have to go but I’ll see you on Monday”

You hand up the phone immediately, the guilt coming back to you for a different reason.

You spend the rest of your shift thinking of excuses for your absence to the party, knowing that that’s what you should have done from the beginning. When you leave you’re so caught up on your thoughts you almost don’t recognise the person waiting for you outside.

“Mike?”

“Hi, yeah- uh sorry” He put his hands on his pockets, looking down at the ground “You sounded a little weird on the phone earlier”

“I had to go back to work, sorry”

“Right, I know… so, about the coffee-”

“Y/N!” Mike is interrupted by a voice you hated to recognize. You closed your eyes momentarily as you let out a breath, mentally preparing yourself to talk to her again “We have to stop running into each other like this”

“Emily, so nice to see you again” You say with a convincing smile.

“You too” She inspects your outfit and the building behind you, a smirk appearing on her face when her eyes landed on you again “I see you’re still working at the café”

You don’t say anything but your blood starts to boil, but at the same time you’re trying hard to hide your embarrassment.

Mike looked at you as soon as those words left her mouth, trying to read your expression, but when you didn’t say anything he decided to jump in “Hi, I’m Mike”

“Oh hi, I’m Emily” They shook hands and she carefully examined him almost entirely, and Mike dropped it after just a moment “I used to be friends with Y/N. Well, with her ex boyfriend, but he’s now my fiancé” She said as she showed off her ring, and the two of you simply nodded “Oh… you must be Y/N’s boyfriend”

Emily’s eyes fixated on you, giving you the same intimidating look she always gave you, making you break and fall into a moment of weakness “Yes” You replied, and she immediately turned to Mike to give him a hug.

“You should’ve said that before, she was telling us about you last night”

He was looking at you with a million questions as his eyes gave you the most confused look you had ever seen on anyone. You mouthed the word ‘Sorry’ as they pulled away.

“You guys are coming to the party tomorrow, right?”

“We can’t make it, sorry” You grabbed Mike’s arm and pulled him closer to you, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Oh well that’s a shame”

“You never said anything about a party, baby” He looked at you, amusement building in his face.

You were sure your face has never been more red than it is right now, you truly didn’t know what to say to that “Uh I- I’m sorry, I guess I forgot”

“We’ll be there”

“Mike, what are you doing?” You whisper to him.

“Great! I can’t wait to see you guys tomorrow”

She starts to walk away as she waves you goodbye, and as soon as she leaves you turn to face Mike, your apology already leaving your mouth “I’m sorry, Mike I’m so sorry, I don’t know what got into me-”

“Who was that?” He interrupted you “And most importantly, why did you say I was your boyfriend”

“That was my… I used to know her when I was dating my ex boyfriend” You explained, scratching your head as you tried to think of the answer to his next question “I don’t know why I said that. I panicked but of course that’s no excuse, I shouldn't have said that, I’m so sorry”

“What did she mean you told them about me last night?”

“I didn’t, I swear I didn’t” You simply reply, but he urges you to continue “I ran into them and they invited me to their engagement party, which already was so crazy cause I didn’t think Nick would ever get married, but he would give that to Emily I guess” You start to ramble, but stop when you realise you’ve said too much “She asked me if I would bring someone with me and I don’t know why but I said yes”

“Does that have anything to do with you giving me your number today?”

“No, of course not” You rushed to reply “Look, I’m sorry I got you into this. It’s stupid and it’s immature, you don’t have to worry about her thinking you’re my boyfriend, I promise I’ll call her”

You stared for a moment, waiting for him to accept your apology, although you’d understand if he didn’t.

“I can come to the party with you”

“What?”

“I mean she’s not very nice, why give her the satisfaction? Plus, I already promised we’d be there”

“No, Mike you don’t have to do that-”

“I tried asking you on a date for weeks, I’m not gonna let it go to waste now, even if it’s not real”

You stop to think for a little too long. If he was down then what was the problem? Asking him to do that for you did cross your mind anyway, so now that he was volunteering himself you shouldn't feel as guilty, right?

“It’s just going to be for one night, and knowing Emily there will be so much free food and drinks, you just need to stay with me and maybe hold my hand a few times”

"Deal"

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fic #mike schmidt imagines #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt imagine #fnaf #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson

[shrenvents]

My Bounty.

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal, unprotected sex, force play. Minors dni

Pairing: Clone Wars (single) Anakin Skywalker x Bounty Hunter reader

Summary: Anakin Skywalker goes above and beyond to make your life difficult, taking whatever he wants without explanation. So when reader confronts him, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Word count: 1.7k

…

The meddling nature of the Jedi was nothing compared to the nature of Anakin Skywalker. His darkness seeps its way into everything. His dark robe, gloves, boots, curls, eyes. He was the darkness enveloping me in a dizzying spiral of hate and desire. And he did it again. He stole my bounty just so he could give me that dark look.

His gaze observes the way my fists clench and how I chew my bottom lip. A wicked smirk dances on his face as clones praise and pat him on the back. He knew exactly what he was doing, watching me with an intensity, that had me shaking.

Finally, Anakin’s eyes move away from my figure, beckoned by his Master. He stalks towards Obi-Wan Kenobi and his mocking facade breaks instantly. I nearly scream at the sight. What was he hoping to achieve? Stealing my potential profits is certainly an interesting pastime, not one you would expect from “the chosen one.”

I huff out my frustration, deflating my tense shoulders. With his back now turned, I relax. Pivoting on my heel, I hurry away from the scene. On to the next hunt, before Skywalker gets the chance to take it from me.

Frankly, I have no clue how it started, his fixation with making me miserable. I almost feel paranoid, as if I’m making up the whole debacle. But from the way he looks at me, unspeaking, I know this truly is my reality. Anakin Skywalker hates me.

...

Now glaring at my reflection within the confines of my room, my restraint runs thin. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna confront him because that sort of thing always goes well.

I head out towards the Jedi temple where Skywalker is most likely training his Padawan. While marching over, I contemplate the arguments I will bring up when face-to-face with him. How I will look into those comet-like eyes and not get distracted by his plump lips.

Moral of the story, I’m going to put an end to this one-sided game we play.

Once my vision connects with his broad back, his name escapes me without hesitation, “Anakin.” Saying it takes me by surprise, seeing as though I’ve never said it before. But clearly, it shocks him more, as when he turns around, his eyes are vaguely wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Y/n,” he says back flatly, face becoming neutral. Now I’m really taken aback by the way my name rolls off his tongue. Quickly, I collect myself and remember my well-thought-out points.

“What are you doing?” And out the window they go.

Anakin quirks his head quizzically. His silent reply to my rather stupid question ticks me off further. I’m practically vibrating with rage. “That was my mark you stole today Skywalker, you realize that?”

As if he’s finally understood my inarticulate speech, his lips part dumbly in “awe.” There he goes pushing my buttons, silently watching me unravel. “You think I wouldn’t notice?“ My face flushes red as I elaborate. “All the crooks you’ve miraculously caught are always the bounty that I’m after.”

There's a beat of silence where he inspects the way my chest heaves in exasperation. Then he speaks. “About time you did.” He states matter-of-factly. My jaw drops. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to notice,” he remarks with a bored look.

“Notice what?” I spit out, scowling at him.

“Me,” he finishes plainly. Silence engulfs us again and I take note of how close we’ve become. “Why would you want that?” I question, utterly perplexed.

“What do you mean?” Anakin’s brows furrow.

“I mean you’ve never spoken to me before.”

“Neither have you.” He counters. My fists tremble.

“Why then? Why do you need me to notice you?” I demand.

“What other reason can there be?” He grumbles while giving me a once-over, and then something clicks. My face falls.

“Those looks you give me-”

“Say just how much I want you, more than words ever could.” He ends my sentence, his face remaining stoic. My heart hammers wildly. I suspect he’s now waiting for me to make a move, to say anything, maybe even reject him. Instead, I hastily circle my head around, surveilling for bystanders before frantically grasping at his robe and pushing him into a nearby room. His facade flatters once again and I see puzzlement consume his face.

After I awkwardly turn the door knob and take us into the empty room, I shove him away. Anakin staggers back, looking completely disoriented, almost regretful. “Y/n?” He trails off. My anger is radiating off my body, and I know he can feel it.

“You should’ve said something,” I assert, seething.

“I’m-“ Anakin is abruptly cut off by my lips smashing against his. With my arms reaching around his neck, I can feel his body freeze. After a short moment, I start to peel away, dejected by his stillness. But Anakin instantly chases after me, no longer shying away.

He gropes my waist, and one arm pulls around it, while the other slides up my spine to rest between my shoulder blades. A moan evades my throat and is met with a deep groan.

His palms carve out my figure and fist at my clothes. Whines rush out my mouth as his tongue mingles with mine. He vigorously makes work of me, and I have to pull away. Though his lips instinctively follow me, I’m out of reach, so he settles for my neck. Sucking fervently, one may fear the spots he’s making, but in this moment, truthfully, I couldn't care less.

“Ani,” I whimper, and he growls against my nape in response. “Fuck, I need you,” I whisper. I feel his movements lurch and he mumbles something, but I can't seem to hear it over my haggard breathing.

He tears himself away from my neck, still keeping my body pressed against his. He then shifts his gaze around the room. “There’s no furniture here, I’ll just have to fuck you standing.” An audible gasp flees my mouth as Anakin slings my body around his torso, legs straddling his hips. His hands clench around my thighs as he hoists me up, securing me in place.

Fortunately, the short gown I threw on this morning made it easy for Anakin's crotch to caress my core through his pants. I push down on him and he groans at our proximity. "I was wondering when you would snap," Anakin mutters into my ear as his grip tightens. I whimper. "Screw you."

"Be patient. You will." He soothes. Digging my front teeth into my bottom lip, I drop my forehead to his shoulder as our lower halves grind against one another.

The sounds of our moans crowd the room and I can't take it anymore. "Kriff patience, I'm done waiting, General," I command in the most sensual voice I can muster. Evidently, my attempt to provoke him works because one of his hands leaves my thigh and clutches my hair in a fist, tugging my head back so his lips can crash into mine again. His other hand shifts down to his slacks. His breath hitches when he releases his cock, and so does mine when it springs up to my clothed clit. "Oh maker," I just about scream, head falling back.

His hands make quick work moving my underwear aside, and his member brushes against my folds. I shudder and screw my eyelids shut. I feel Anakin's gaze fixate on me. "Look at me." Hearing his order, I immediately obey.

Eyes fluttering open, I look into his lust-filled ones. Getting flustered by their heat, I squirm. "Y/n." He hushes, breath blowing across my face. Glancing at his features briefly, I nod, communicating what we both desperately need.

We both hold our breaths as he brings me down on his length in a slow glide. His cock pierces my entrance, and I clamp down on my incoming yelp. He was big. I hear him distractedly repeat my name, face buried in my collar. My eyes look to the ceiling in prayer.

His movements dissipate midway, and I feel his stomach clench. "You take me so well." He mumbles almost to himself. All I can do is bob my head in response. In this short pause, the pain disperses and all I feel is him - pleasure, darkness. His arms snake around my waist while mine harden around his nape.

Suddenly, he plunges into me, filling me up completely. My cry echoes throughout the room and I instantly sink my teeth into the cartilage of his ear. The growl that leaves him is next to primal. His rhythmic pounding begins to pick up speed, and I can barely keep up with each stroke. "Kiss me," he stammers out. Reeling back, I lock eyes with him before diving my tongue into his mouth.

His hips snap into my own, over and over. His stomach clenches once more and he pants into my mouth, "I'm close." Though I feel incredible, I'm not quite close to my limit, and he senses it.

One of his palms unravels from my body, steadily hovering over my center. Thinking he's going to touch me, I arch my back away from his embrace to allow space for his digits to meet my slit. But, as I wait, an unexpected pressure attacks my core. I gasp away from his lips and I peer down, leaning my forehead on his.

His hand isn't physically touching me, yet I feel as though I'm close to climaxing. Bewildered, I shoot my eyes from his floating hand to his lewd expression. His grin is strangely smug as he watches me. Then it registers: he's using the force to make me cum. Completely stunned, I simply bore my eyes into him, mouth agape.

Our orgasms come at once and wash over us at his charge. He puffs out a loud sigh of relief and continues to hold me, pumping slower than before, til the action ceases.

"Maker," I huff, "Next time, just use your words, and I'm yours." A smile forms on his face. He sheepishly nods, "Next time."

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[luveline]

I'm having extremely horrid self-image these days so I was just wondering if you could write Aaron comforting reader about it?

You used to do your makeup on the bedroom floor in Aaron's floor length mirror. He found it endearing apparently, he'd always laugh quietly and step around you, promising that one day he was going to get you a vanity. 

And then he tells you he loves you and asks you to move in, and then there's a vanity waiting for you when you do. Aaron stops laughing in the morning and starts leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That's better, hm?"

It feels like playing dress up. You appreciate him, you love him, but you sit there with your makeup bag and your hair oils and feel awful. Deep down, pervasively, achingly awful. You're not the type of girl who gets the nice house and a nice boyfriend, who sits at her vanity primping and preening. No matter what you do, you'll always look like this.

"What are you doing?" he asks quietly. 

He's laying in bed behind you, sleep heavy on his tongue. You wipe a cotton pad wet with toner over your cheeks, avoiding his gaze in the mirror as you answer, "Just getting ready." 

"For what?" 

"Just the day." 

"You don't sound very happy, honey." He sits up, the front most strands of his hair falling onto his forehead, due for a trim. When he says 'honey', his brows lift from their furrow imploringly. It's madness that he can wake and throw himself straight into profiling mode. "What's wrong?" 

"It's nothing." 

"I don't think so. Come back to bed." We'll talk about it goes unsaid. Aaron's voice can colour a thousand shades but your favourite is this gentle lulling, his hand stretched out over the sheets to beckon you in. 

You put your used cotton pads aside and stand with a weird feeling in your throat like you swallowed something without chewing properly. Aaron watches you. He's good at pretending he isn't, but you know he is, his dark eyes tracing the shine of toner on your tacky cheek. 

"You smell nice," he says, kissing under your jaw, forcing your face up. "And you're so soft."

"Trying to butter me up before you ask me what's wrong." 

"But I'm not lying… What is wrong?" 

You meet his eyes, asking for permission of a sort that you don't need to ask for. He lifts his head in answer and opens his arms, pulling your face into the crook of his neck and your chest against his, murmuring, "Honey, honey," over your head. "What's wrong?" 

It comes as little surprise to him when you explain, your voice hushed with shame. I just feel so… disgusting. You don't say it with distinction but he gathers it anyhow, your lack of self esteem, not in the sense of putting yourself forward, but in that you don't like the way you look, the way people see you. 

"I can't control the way you see me, so you see me at my worst." 

"You don't have a worst." He lays back against the headboard and drags you down with him. "You're always beautiful."

You shake your head. 

You and Aaron linger in silence for a while, the only sound his fingers tightening against the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist. "Do you know why I wanted you to have your vanity?" 

"Well, you kept tripping over me in the mornings." 

"I did… I'd be watching you get ready and I'd find myself distracted," he says, low and quiet, as though confessing. "So yes, I'd trip over you. I wouldn't watch where I was going but I'd want go be closer, and I'd accidentally hit your arm and you'd look up. First in the mirror, and then over your shoulder. My heart–" He clears his throat. "Your vanity was an act of self preservation." 

"Because you're so old?"

"Careful," he says lightly, giving your waist a squeeze. "Because now I get to watch you from right here." He looks down at the vanity and you follow his gaze, seeing more of him than you, wrapped up in his arms. You look peaceful together. "Every morning." 

You close your eyes, rubbing your cheek into his shoulder. "And that's fun for you." 

"It's the best part of my day." 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[highonmarvel]

You Can Cry

Bucky Barnes: Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl. 18+ only!

content warnings here!

You wipe away tears as you impatiently wait for your ride to arrive, tapping your foot and hugging yourself. You don’t know why you always get so emotional, get brought to tears so easily, and your sensitivity slightly angers you, being irritated that you still cry like a child at the most silly things.

Your date had only laughed when you stared at him blankly, asking him to explain his joke again, and the rational part of you was sure he didn’t mean any harm, the rational part of you was sure it was lighthearted—he was a nice guy—but still you felt that familiar sting in your eyes at the response.

Even when you brought the night to a close, you refused a ride home from him, denying it so harshly he was stuck at the table for a bit when you stormed out, hot tears staining your cheeks, and you didn’t see him leave—maybe he was still inside and talking up another girl who didn’t take every little thing so personally.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You startle at the voice and snap your head up to follow the sound, leading your eyes to a tall man wearing a leather jacket, leaning against the wall of the next building over to the restaurant you had stomped out of. He cards a hand through his hair and steps forward, and instinctively you step back, feeling an air of danger about him, darker than just a mugger in the night.

You wipe away the last of your tears and sniffle softly before quickly bring your focus back to the street, mentally pleading for your driver to pull up, too scared to fish your phone back out of your bag to check how far he was, and clutching your purse tighter.

He groans, “Please, sweetheart, I’m talkin’ to you.”

“No,” you reply, quietly, not making a move to look back up at his captivating blue eyes, a slight fear that if you look back at him, you’ll never be able to look away again. Or he’ll be the last thing you see, “I’m not.”

“You sure, princess?” he takes another step toward you, and this time you can’t muster up the courage to move away, frozen still, “Looked like you were cryin’.”

You grow irritated not with him but more with yourself, for somehow having shown such weakness to a man in the shadows—but how could you have known?

“I wasn’t,” you lie, finding yourself holding back tears again, begging any higher power out of the dozens believed to help you out just this one time and have your driver pull around the corner. The streets are empty and quiet, the only two people in the world you and him, and the only noise his painstakingly slow footsteps towards you, and your rapidly beating heart, “I wasn’t,” you repeat again, predicting you would sound more confident, but your voice cracks, and you wince at the sound of his sigh in response.

“Aw, don’t cry,” you gasp as he suddenly pulls you flush against his chest, caging your body to his with his right arm pressing into your lower back and his left gently gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. A smile spreads across his gorgeous face as your tears well up. You want to look to the sky to stop drops from falling, but you can’t, not because of his light grip, but because of that sadistic glint in his eyes, absolutely fascinating you.

A drop spills from an eye, and he tilts his head, watching it roll down your cheek. Your eyes glisten with tears and his glisten with delight, relishing in each drop that rolls down your cheek, as you can do nothing but stare up helplessly at him, paralysed by fear.

He leans down and presses a light kiss on your cheek, one you might have found loving if given to you by someone close.

“You’re so pretty,” he remarks, bringing his other hand up to cup your face, unconcerned with keeping you near, knowing you can’t move if you tried. He rubs calloused thumbs across your cheeks, wiping the tears away as he admires your features, “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, gaze roaming your face until they land on your terrified eyes, and he smiles again.

“What? Never learned how to take a compliment, princess?”

You blink up him, starting to tremble very slightly, your mouth slightly agape. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you manage a meek, “Thank you…”

“Bucky,” he mumbles.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you repeat, just wanting him to let you go, at this point completely disinterested with where your driver is, just him to leave you alone.

“Now, won’t you tell a nice guy like me why you’re cryin’? Did someone hurt you?”

You shake your head weakly, willing yourself to just stop fucking crying.

“Don’t lie to me,” he grips your face slightly firmer, not hard, but enough to make you understand his determination, “Did some guy make you cry, angel?” he asks, gently.

Despite your better judgement, you nod; maybe that is the best judgement, to just respond the way he wants so he might just leave you alone. No, your compliance is only seeming to spur him on, as shown by a pity frown taking shape on his face, and you can’t quite place if he’s mocking you or trying to seem more empathetic in some weird way.

“No, a sweet girl like you?” he places a kiss on your forehead, “You’re precious, angel.”

You shift uncomfortably, unable read the situation, unable to tell if he’s just fucking with you or if he feels bad. And you don’t have to, because just as he pulls away to look at you, you hear tyres against gravel, a car pulling around the corner, snapping you out of your… trance, and whipping your head to see a white corolla.

“Stay beautiful, doll,” Bucky says, and he slips into the shadows before you can grasp it. Cold air rushes against your cheeks—you hadn’t realised his hands were relatively warm—making you feel more exposed. For good measure, you quickly wipe away tears before hoping into the car with a smile to your driver.

Your date texts you the next morning, apologises for upsetting you—even though he doesn’t know how—and asks for a redo, or a second date, kinda, he puts it. With a clear mind, you do feel bad for being so dramatic and overly sensitive last night, and thinking back on it, a little rude with how short you were being with him when all he did was laugh lightly, it wasn’t malicious. He was a nice guy. You’re still shaken from the previous night, but maybe a casual date will relax you.

You agree, and he immediately responds, suggesting another restaurant for that evening.

You feel very pretty in your dress as you enter the restaurant and sit at table. You had arrived only 10 minutes late, so maybe you should just give him more time to show up. You didn’t want to order, but the waitress seemed to be getting impatient, and so you order something light and ate alone. An hour and he still wasn’t here. Your plate is cleared away, barely anything touched, and a few teardrops splashed at the edges.

You’re sniffling in the corridor of your apartment as you fumble with your keys and stumble in, trying not to completely break down as you kick off your shoes and head straight for your bedroom, thinking that you could escape some crying if you just fell asleep.

You’re sobbing quietly as you enter, pushing the door behind you, not even caring that it didn’t really close, ready to flop onto bed.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You gasp and spin to the sound of that familiar voice, the same words being spoken in the same tone as the previous night.

Bucky pushes the door and this time it clicks shut. He looks up at you, and his blue eyes catch the moonlight in a soft yet sinister manner, causing you to stumble back. You can barely see him through the tears blurring your vision and the dark room.

“Bucky?” you whisper, unnecessarily, seeing as of fucking course it’s Bucky.

He bends his head back slightly with a smile, “I love the way you say my name, doll. Can you say it again for me?”

You take a few steps back, heart racing faster than you ever thought it could, and let out a quiet shriek as your heel hits the foot of your bed and your fall back onto it. Bucky is hovering over you in a flash, one hand propping him up and his right slipping under your dress to rub soothing circles on your thigh.

“Did he stand you up?” he leans down, lips between your ear and neck, “He doesn’t like you, princess.”

You try not to let out a sound, but you can’t stop a choked sob from escaping, and he smiles against your neck. You turn your head away, but he stays near, his voice hovering just above your ear, “He doesn’t like you, and he can’t take care of you, sweetheart, he can’t.”

Despite your efforts, another choked gasp escapes you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he’ll just go away.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, changing his circular motions from clockwise to anti, “Are you scared, doll? Am I scaring you?”

“Yes!” you gasp as he kisses your neck.

“No…” he replies against your skin, faux-disbelief coating his tone, “But I won’t hurt you, angel; he will.”

He lies down next to you and brings his left hand up to stroke your face, “It’s okay, you can cry,” he coaxes, and you do, breath escaping your lungs in short gasps as tears fall and he wipes them away, kissing your neck and still rubbing circles on your thigh, “You can cry…”

His thumb slides to your inner thigh and you squirm, but he quickly stops you by harshly gripping your thigh. Once he’s sure you won’t twist again, he runs his finger up and down your inner thigh with a sigh.

“You’ll learn to love this, doll, but for now… you can cry…” he shifts downward and pulls your dress up, “A sweet girl like you’s gotta taste sweet too.”

✪

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!avengers #dark avengers #dark bucky x you #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes x you #dark bucky smut #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #yandere bucky barnes #marvel yandere #dark!fic #dark!marvel #dark marvel #dark fics #dark fic #dark!fics #biker!bucky #biker!bucky barnes #yandere!bucky barnes

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirits - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.7)

Summary: reactions from team avatar when they find out your ozais assassin

warning: mentions of scars, not very happy gaang, mean katara!, angst

masterlist: here!

most previous part: here! (all other parts can be found in my masterlist!)

authors note! hello!! idk if anyone will be reading this but if you are welcome!! i haven't posted to this series in YEARS so please forgive me as I'm very rusty at writing but please enjoy!

Unified screams erupted upon Appa. “YOU’RE WHAT!”

“Aang what have you done! You literally let a murderer on Appa! She’s going to kill all of us! Katara was right, and I can’t believe I ignored her.”

“I KNEW IT! Quickly Aang, land Appa and let’s get her off!”

Unable to take it anymore, Toph lost her cool. “Can you knuckle heads shut up! I highly doubt that she will kill us, why the hell would she listen to you guys fighting all the time when she could end her misery by taking you out.”

Reality hitting Sokka and Katara, they finally piped down, allowing Toph to continue.

“Look, what you said is highly questionable. I’m not saying that I trust you, but you’re going to have to give us more information than that or else I’ll throw you off myself. Got it?”

You sighed. At least someone in the group had more sense. “Yeah, of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well for starters a name would be great. Oh and maybe, I don’t know, how and why you’re the Fire Lords Assassin?!”

You almost wanted to pull Katara’s braid for the irritating look of satisfaction on her face. “Right okay… well my name is y/n. uhhh and I was forced to become his assassin when he caught me after I broke into the palace three years ago.”

“That’s it?! Nuh uh lady. I know he’s the Fire Lord and had done some awful things but why would he do that to a child?! You’re either lying or somethings still missing.”

There was a lot to weigh up. To suddenly reveal everything about you would be too much and would get you thrown off Appa anyway. Yet to reveal nothing wouldn’t let you gain enough trust to even last a day. Leaving you to share the one thing you knew so little about yourself that you didn’t care if they knew and hopefully enough of a miserable, pitying tale that they’d let you off the hook for the time being.

“My parents aren’t in my life, they never were. I don’t know who they were or why they did it. All I had was my trainer, Zemin. In his time, he was the most notorious Assassin in the entire Fire Nation and when he retired, he never took on any students to carry on his legacy - if you could even call it that. Every other trainer was ecstatic because this meant that their students would earn the most bounties. Until there was me. I don’t know why he took me in… he just said that he found me as in infant and regretfully took me from an islands rocky shore maybe to sell me off somewhere. I suppose he realised he could make even more money from me if he trained me until I could pay off debt for him raising me. I did the one thing assassins could do, kill. All the money I ever earned from each bounty went straight to him. Luckily enough, I learned quickly, and I got to my final payment when I was 13, then he would have set me free.”

Horrified, Aang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was nothing like this in the Air Temples growing up. “Luckily enough?! How in any universe is that lucky!”

“Most assassins in the Fire Nation, and others, are stuck paying off their guardians or trainers well into their adulthood. Because of… certain tactics and advantages, I became quite popular if you could put it that way and most of the people, I had to take care of were…” Halting, you knew that if you verbally said some lives are worth more than others, Aang would probably go into cardiac arrest.

“Well, some had more people wanting them gone so the bounty was higher.”

“How does this have anything to do with you working for the fire lord! I don’t see why Zemin would let you go if you were doing so much for him.”

Your strength was fading. You hated yourself for how much you scretly enjoyed having people around that weren’t as idealistic as those in the Fire Nation.  “He didn’t. I got an anonymous mission to take out a high general in the palace. So high, that it was going to be enough for me to finish my debt.” After not being met with screams you felt reassured to continue…. they seem to be taking this well…

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “On my way out, I got caught in the middle of an Agni Kai. The fire lord wasn’t too pleased I killed one of his generals or interfered with punishing his son. Yet somehow in his psychopathic mind he saw it as an opportunity to pledge my allegiance to him.”

The silence amongst the group was short lived.

“YOU MEAN ZUKO?”

“YOU KILLED SOMEONE.”

“AND YOU ACCEPTED?”

You scrunched your face. Maybe this was a bad idea to tell them. But it was too late to go back. “Yes, it was Prince Zuko in the Agni Kai, that’s how he got his scar. Yes, Aang I did kill the general, but to be fair I haven’t killed anyone since then… And Katara if you were being tortured every day for 8 months, I’m sure you would wear down too.”

The waterbender was unsatisfied with your answer. “Unbelievable! Of course, you did! Everyone has a choice in this world, and you chose the fire lord. You’re nothing but a coward.”

“My life was on the line! You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh please, y/n. I do. I know everything! Sure, you were raised to assassinate others, but you can’t expect me to believe you didn’t know what you were doing when you were standing before Ozai. I would have stayed in a life of suffering than go with him.” Shaking her head, she pierces you with a disgusted look, “You’re no better than Ozai. No better than Azula.”

As Appa continued to glide through the ever-ending expanse of the sky, it seemed nothing could break the suffocating tension that encompassed everyone upon his saddle.

Toph was the only one to speak up. “Didn’t you hear her Katara? She hasn’t killed anyone since then! She’s surviving. If you ask me… she’s braver than any of us, you never know what could have happened to her if she got caught not actually killing her targets!”

Irritated Katara only grumbled, turning away while leaving the two boys to think about how they felt about you. Despite giving them answers, they still had so many questions.

It was undeniably clear that Katara has made her mind up about you, and you were sure everyone else was the same despite the earth benders attempts at comforting you. Hence, as you sat there across from the four of them, you were the first to break eye contact, turning your head to the side as you searched for something to focus on out there in the sky. Bird, a cloud, anything. You didn’t have the heart, the courage, to argue against what she said.

Unknown to you, Aang shuffled closer to you scared that his angry friend might hear him going towards you. His words only just loud enough to hear above the wind he whispered to you… “Its okay y/n. I don’t really understand what you’ve done or what you’ve been through but when youre ready.. you can tell us.

That was the first time your heart ignited a comforting warmth.

As Appas soft paws skilfully landing on the hard earth, you felt your heart drop inside you. What do I do now? Mind racing through all the possibilities, Toph seemed to have decided what to do before you could even stand.

“Hey! Come with me.”

Jumping off Appas saddle you landed on your feet with such a skilled silence, Toph had to sense your heartbeat to even realise you were next to her. Setting off towards where she’d set up her sleeping area, it was best you stuck closely behind.

“Don’t think about what Katara said, she doesn’t get it.”

“How so?”

Stalling in her tracks, she turned her unseeing gaze towards you. “She doesn’t know what its like to be born into a life that you don’t want. And she definitely doesn’t know how hard it can be trying to escape it.”

Unsure with how to reply, humming in understanding was the best you could come up with.

“Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I know you most certainly don’t need me, but I’ve got your back.”

The next day had gone by agonizingly slow. With Toph trying to teach Aang earth bending you were left to your own devices since Katara decided to tag along. Although you found yourself tailing Sokka as he went his own way looking for food unaware of your silent giggles seeing him get stuck in the ground.

“...big things eat smaller things. Nothing personal. But this time, it didn’t work out that way…I admit it, you’re cute…”

You decide to finally reveal yourself, tired of your lack of entertainment. “What are you doing down there Sokka?”

Letting out a girl like squeal, he’s horrified at getting caught in this position. “Nothing!”

“You look like you could use some help.”

“I don’t want help from you!” You dismiss it. Surely he has no other choice but to make himself acquainted with you.

“Yeah, right. It’s funny, you’re probably the third person that has ever said that to me. The second in about the span of 48 hours.” you cant help but divert your attention towards the cute animal annoying him. “Aweee look at this cutie!”

“Get away from it!”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to hurt it!”

“Please, I actually quite like animals. They’re a lot better than humans anyway.”

“I- well… fine! Just go away?”

You scoff, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t like you!”

“Hmm… is that so.”

“Yes, of course it is!”

You’re done feeling sorry for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t like me, or do you feel that way because of your sister?”

“I- well… argh! Fine! I don’t know.”

“Well… why don’t you talk to me and work it out for yourself? If you still dislike me so much I’ll leave you be and get someone to come help.”

A  silence fills the distance between the two of you.

He sighs, caving in, “So.. this Zemin guy. Did he REALLY not give you a choice?”

Looking up, you stare at the clear sky. “I learnt early on in my training that I didn’t have a choice or options in life other than what he wanted. Any exercise I rushed through, half assed, or tried to skip through when he wasn’t looking came with consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“The kind that keeps all of my clothing and bindings on so I don’t constantly get pitiful looks or too many questions.”

He scoffs, “prove it”

Staring at all your layers you sigh, “don’t say I never warned you.”

Peeling off all your layers one by one until your down to just your tank top and pants, you decide to take off your face mask last. Your eyes meeting Sokka’s, you notice him swallow thickly. But its you to break the ice first. “In all fairness, most of them are now from Ozai. The older they look… well I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.”

“b-but-“Fuck why did I have to make him uncomfortable.

Unable to take it any longer, you pull him out from the hole in the ground. “Its fine.”

You turn to walk away after helping him, but he grabs your scarred wrist, the feeling of the textured skin making him internally wince. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you expose yourself like that. Its horrible that you had to experience that… hell we look the same age!”

“Everyone is on different paths. Look, lets just forget about it..”

Sokka feels like he could bust into tears “No! you don’t understand. I’ve seen the effects of the fire nation… hell they took away my mum. I still remember it, sometimes I have weeks where I keep reliving it in my nightmares, only finding peace when im awake. Its like im being haunted. But- but you?! You have to face it whether you’re awake or asleep”.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can’t handle the intensity of his words. Theres nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. You hug him. You don’t remember the last time you held someone. It feels weird, almost wrong. But as he squeezes you back, tightening the embrace, you understand one thing. You have an understanding with the water tribe boy, despite how dark it may feel.

Hours pass by as you sit with sokka talking about useless topics until the other three join you once more. Feeling weariness in their gaze, you realise you forgot to put your layers back on. Now everyone can see your face and scars.

Only Aang has the courage to speak with you.

“Hey. Uhhh, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I’m sorry for not speaking much with you since yesterday. I didn’t mean to, it was just a lot to process personally! Growing up with the Air Nomads, I was taught that killing is wrong and that under no circumstance should that be the answer. If I’m completely honest with you, I still stand by those teachings and to have someone who has… killed… so close to me and the people I care the most about is… unsettling.”

There it was. You knew despite how much he was trying; you knew he wouldn’t be able to see past what you did. What you are.

“I understand. I don’t blame you, or anyone for reacting the way they are, and I know what it feels like to want to protect those who mean something to you.” You glance at Sokka, remembering how he understood.

“Just… please understand that I’ve realised what I did was wrong and while I can’t change everything that I have done, I’m trying to move away from that way of life. I don’t want to be a killer anymore. I’m trying my best to fix it.”

“I know…. Its just-“

“You don’t trust me.”

“What?! NO! I mean…. I don’t know. You clearly have good inside of you but it’s hard to look past.”

“I get it. I’ll head off then, the world needs you Aang and I won’t be the one to stand it your way.”

“No! stop! Please! I know I said it’s hard for me to do, but I clearly see you trying your best. I know you won’t hurt me. I just… I suppose I need to open my eyes more. See you for who you are now, what you’re doing now.”

But what if you can’t? What if I’m still that person, no matter how much I try to shove it away. This is what I have been made to become?

“Okay.”

Letting out a nervous quiet laugh, he glances back to everyone. “okay well… lets eat!”

Zuko stares at the sky in the heavy downpour. “You always through everything you could at me. Well, I can take it. And now I can give it back!”

Lightning cacks in the sky before his eyes.

“Come on!”

“Strike me! You never held back before!”

Met with only the sound of the world around him, he feels helpless. Lost. Alone.

Screaming out, Zuko falls to his knees as the rain and guilt encompasses all of his senses.

His voice scratchy from screaming, he can hardly croak out… “You never held back from her."

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#zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #zuko #the gaang #zuko angst #atla zuko #prince zuko #avatar aang #aang #toph #sokka #suki #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko x aang #aang x katara #atla aang