#been a hot minute since i’ve drawn whisper

[pocketscribbs]

there’s an imposter amongst them…

#been a hot minute since i’ve drawn whisper #or hasn’t it? #idk honestly #my doodles #idw sonic #whisper the wolf #silver the hedgehog #duo the cat #mimic the octopus #sonic fanart #sonic the hedgehog fanart #my art

[bunnysbrainrot]

Too Sweet

A series inspired by Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Content: No sexually explicit content, at least not yet. Some slight fluff? Slow burn vibes? Joel is kind of a dick (for once in my writings), but a protective dick.

Summary: You’re one of the newest arrivals in Jackson after a long trip to seek refuge. Now that you’re settling in, one of Jackson’s most integral men is the head of your first patrol. Will Joel be able to set aside that gruff demeanor for the sake of meeting someone new?

A/N: I’m so sorry about my recent hiatus, everyone. I’ve thought of this series for a while, to get me inspired again and to work towards something bigger. I’ve also thought about having some sections/chapters be from Joel’s perspective. Thoughts on that? Sorry it’s nothing spicy yet, but we’ll work up to it. Tensionnnn

The sound of birds echoed outside your bedroom window. By some miracle, you’d found a community, after so many months wandering either alone, or with the occasional group, but never for long. The mattress beneath you squeaks as you shift in your bed. Normally an irksome noise, but it reminded you that you were finally safe.

A faint light of dawn trickles through the gaps in the curtains, streaking around the room in a periwinkle hue. Your sluggish grog was slowly wearing off, while you processed your plans for that day. It was a Thursday, according to your new watch. God, you hadn’t realized how much you missed being able to tell the time. Who knows truly how long you’d been out there. Days blurring together, the minutes excruciatingly drawn out without company.

It was nice to be a part of something again.

Finally, you sat up in bed, rolling your head to stretch your neck. How long had it been since you had a proper pillow?

A smile crept onto your face. You’re better rested than ever, but an anxiety still ate away at you. Today was your first patrol outside of Jackson. You weren’t alone, of course, but the expectations you held for yourself could be your downfall.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you whispered to yourself.

Walking over to your dresser, you eyed yourself in a dusty mirror above the chest of drawers. A kind woman named Maria had provided you with a few new outfits when you’d first arrived a week ago. In the meantime until today, she’d given you those days to process and settle, and you were grateful for her patience.

When Maria had asked you what role you’d like in the community, she could see the steely glint in your eyes. Well seasoned from years of fighting and running, yet still a kernel of a protective rage.

You had expressed to her of your journey before finding Jackson. On that day she asked you how many of the dead you had taken out thus far.

“In total, by myself, well over three hundred, I would say. I don’t know, I think I lost track at some point.”

Her expression shifted to one of assurance, like they’d just gotten a worthy addition to their town. Someone who could protect what they’d all built.

She explained the basics of patrols, the routes laid out on an old map, with hand drawn trails and indicators of the area. You made an attempt to remember as much as you could, but surely you’d get good practice being out there, actually doing it.

————

You check yourself before heading out the front door. This time of year, the weather has started to warm up, so your opted for a t-shirt, jeans, a light jacket, and a ‘new’ pair of hand-me-down boots.

The air outside was cleaner than you’d imagined. The scent of early morning breakfasts wafted through the breeze, bringing a pang to your stomach. Maria hadn’t mentioned how long patrols would take; you debated if you had time to grab something from a stall in the heart of town. Other residents had been given spaces to cook for the community, giving out easy meals for these hardworking people.

Turns out you did have time, to your relief. In a matter of minutes, you held a piping hot breakfast sandwich in your hands, its heat seeping into your chilled fingers.

A few folks wave a friendly ‘hello’ as you trek to the Southern side of Jackson, to its border wall to meet up with your patrol group. There was a huddle of both peiple and horses, you noticed, as you got closer. One of the people turned to you, giving a wave in recognition.

“Hi, am I late? I thought I’d have time to get breakfast,” you explained.

There was a woman with kind eyes who spoke next, “Not at all, these bastards just insist on getting up at 5:30.”

“That sure is an early start.”

“It gets them cranky like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied, quickly cut off by a new voice.

It was a gentleman who called to the group, “We all here?”

His voice wasn’t commanding, but it did put people into gear to check themselves. Clearly he was the one in charge of this patrol. The look in his eyes told you all you needed to know.

He might be someone to watch.

You turn to the woman, “I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know anyone here yet. Is there any way you could give me a run-down of who everyone is?”

With a smile, she listed off the names of your group members, pointing them out. Some of them noticed and waved, others gave a slight smile, and others asked for your name. All were introduced until it was down to the man who’d rounded the group.

“And, that’s Joel. He’s head of the patrol.”

Your eyes shot to Joel now that you could put a name to the face. There was a moment of pause when you met his gaze, a moment frozen in time from his stare. He scanned over your face, down to your shoddy boots, and back to your eyes.

His expression doesn’t soften as he says, “Glad to have ya with us. Should be a horse on the way for you.”

Joel turns to face the gate as he rummages through his pockets for a folded map. He unfolds the paper until it spans across his horse’s shoulders.

The rhythmic clonk of a horse’s hooves came from behind. A familiar face approached with a stunning mare, it’s Maria.

“Mornin’ everyone, that should be it,” Maria traded off with you, handing you the mare’s lead. She spoke louder, announcing to the group. “Y’all stay safe out there. Shouldn’t be too bad, but it is getting warmer. Keep an eye out for groups.”

Members of your party nodded before Maria walked off, giving greetings to other folks who’d just begun to bustle around.

Your attention shifted back, specifically to Joel. It seemed that whatever he says, goes, so that’s what you’d follow.

Two men at the top of the wall made their way to the edges of the gate, hauling it open. Golden sunlight peeked above the mountains ahead, casting the world in a yellow glow.

Joel nodded, then a gruff, “Be smart. Stay close.”

————

The sun was overhead now. You’d been out here for hours, keeping an eye out for any infected that roamed too close to camp. A while ago, you spotted one trapped in an abandoned cabin. Which was quickly dispatched by one of the men in your party.

That cycle repeated almost wordlessly amongst you all. Hardly a single word had been uttered aside from Joel’s occasional command or redirection.

For the most part, things were going smoothly. And after a few minutes of some peace and quiet, you realized you’d strayed away from your spot in the formation. Your horse had fallen in pace with a beautiful brown stallion, riding on top, was none other than the leader.

Joel.

You’d turned to see who it was, but were quickly met with another intense stare. Your gaze darts to the side as you issue an apology, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get so ahead of everyone.”

For the first time his expression does soften. A slight hint or kindness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his slight smile.

“It happens. Just… keep a lil’ distance. You’re new, can’t have you rushing ahead without someone else with you.”

The words would form a lecture if it weren’t for his tone. It wasn’t scrutinizing, but rather soft and protective.

His advice brings a smile out of you. A genuine one, for the first time in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as you’d assumed. You tug your horse’s reins to slow her pace, creating a few feet of space between you and Joel.

Yet even still, that smile he gave you kept your heart racing.

It would be a horrible idea, to fawn after him.

Right?

That thought had no effect on the tightness in your chest, or the fluttering in your stomach. Perhaps it was simply happiness that someone so hardened could be so easily friendly. A hard exhale later, you told yourself that it was the camaraderie that flustered you.

—

The group had made their journey back to town. Aside from the occasional runner, there wasn’t much defense needed this morning. Once your group returned, you’d have lunch and trade off with the next group, and share your findings before they venture out.

You had let your mind wander as you rode with the group.

In a split second, your mare bucks in fright. There was no time to assess what scared her before you were shooting ahead, flying past your patrol group.

“Nonononono- NO! It’s alright, it’s alright-“ you cry, but it falls on deaf ears of a scared animal. Tugging on the reins made no difference. You still shot ahead of the others, directionless without someone to guide you.

“It’s alright, baby, you’re safe! You’re okay. It’s gone!” You plead to the horse to slow down. The reassurances don’t seem to be enough.

A thundering set of footsteps is heard behind you. In a swift move, Joel jabbed his horse with his heel, pushing himself to race ahead of you.

With the rush of the air and galloping hooves, you could hardly make out his instructions.

“What?!” You shouted.

“Pull the reins! And I mean pull!”

You gripped the leather of the reins, drawing them to your chest, tugging your horse’s head back and away. Her pace slowed, but she kept running, now to the left. You could make out a curse from Joel as he redirected.

In a stroke of luck, he made some headway. Joel’s horse zoomed forward, and merged directly in front of yours, and the interruption slowed the mare’s pace just enough.

Another tug of the reins helps her into a steady beat. Joel was directly ahead, now turned to the side to block more of the path. Your horse huffed and threw her head frustratedly. In that short time you had no clue just how far you’d strayed away - looking backwards told you that it was at least a few hundred meters.

Embarrassment showed in your flushed cheeks and wild expression, looking to Joel for some sort of scolding.

“I think something scared her. I.. I didn’t get a chance to see, it all happened so fast-“

Joel raised a hand to stop you mid-sentence. He didn’t wear a smile like before, but his expression wasn’t angry. If anything, he had that protective look once again.

“I know. They’re skittish, ‘specially her. She needs a little more control than the others.”

It’s a reassurance, truthfully. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t on the shit list on the first day. Your breathing had slowed down now, though your heart still raced wildly in your chest.

He scanned your face thoroughly before he asked, “You alright?”

A nod is what you could muster. It’s enough for Joel to give a nod back before waving to the folks behind you, the rest of the group, to call them over.

“Maybe next time I’ll have a more confident horse. No offense….” you paused, “what’s her name?”

Joel’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’s Belle you’re ridin’. Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while, so she’s not as warmed up to this. But you did good with her, all things considered. Handled it well.”

You reached down to pat Belle on the side of her cheek, caressing her carefully.

“It’s okay, Belle. We’re with you. You’re alright now.”

A smile vanished from Joel’s face when you look back up at him. He cleared his throat, his eyes skirting away until your party began to join up with you two.

“It’s all good. Belle got the jitters. Let’s head home.”

With that explanation out of the way, the team could finally resume their return home. Along the way, Joel didn’t have much else to say, much to anyone actually. His silence was solemn - definitely not any invitation to strike up conversation.

Perhaps that’s how he’d always be - resigned, reserved, and off limits to everyone. A part of you ached at the thought of it.

For Joel, that loneliness could be his downfall.

Hi guys! Thanks for reading, I’m sorry if it seems a little boring, but it’s for the sake of the story building. TRUST it will get nasty soon. 🥰

#fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #bunny writes #smut #smut writing #the last of us fanfiction

[fandomnerd9602]

So Easy

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

For @lifespectator and @aloneodi

It’s not like she meant for this to happen. You were so loving and kind, especially to Billy and Tommy. And for young widow, Wanda Maximoff, that was what made you so appealing.

You were a babysitter/ big brother mentor. Billy and Tommy had lost their father at a very young age and it seemed that they were yearning for someone to help guide them.

You were more than happy to become that mentor for them. You’d play soccer with Tommy and then create poetry with Billy. You’d run laps with one boy and help draw pictures with the other. They were practically begging their mom for you to be their babysitter whenever she needed a night out with her best friend and neighbor Agatha.

Every time Wanda saw you playing with her boys, it made her heart flutter. Every time you made the boys or even Wanda giggle, it made her fall that much more in love with you.

And then it all came to a head one night after you had gotten the boys off to sleep before Wanda got home. She walked you to the door, thanking you for your help.

“It was nothing Mrs. Maximoff” you smiled at the young mother. “Billy and Tommy are simply the best.”

Without even thinking, Wanda leaned in and kissed you, “okay bye I love you”

You were absolutely frozen. Shocked but pleasantly shocked. Wanda, meanwhile, went red in the face with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry” she managed to say as she slammed the door in your face and sunk against the wooden door.

You, on the other hand, walked away with the goofiest smile on your face.

Wanda practically called Agatha about the whole thing. Her friend almost died laughing at hearing Wanda’s little story.

“Scandalous” Agatha answered back, “you got it bad for your boys’ sitter”

Wanda couldn’t stop herself from blushing. It had been so long since she had been in love. So long since she allowed herself to feel that kind of joy. How was it so easy for her to fall for you?

Didn’t take long for Wanda to try and invite you over for dinner. Just a little meal to straighten things over. The boys practically tackled you as you walked thru the door.

They told you about their day at school. And yes you were paying attention to them but your heart was drawn to the young widow preparing the meal for all of you.

You walked into the kitchen as Wanda was slaving away at a hot stove.

“Will you at least let me help if we’re not gonna talk about last night?” You joked as you aided Wanda with the meal prep.

The two of you worked in tandem, soon, dinner was in the oven and you had a few minutes to talk.

Wanda bites her lip in worry as she looks at you, “I-I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never felt this way for anyone in a long time”

“I understand”

“It’s not like I was trying to throw myself at you” Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, “it’s just that everything’s so easy when I’m with you.”

You take a step towards her. Her nimble fingers play with one another out of a nervous little habit.

“I like being with you and my boys” she tries to say, “they’re everything to me and I’m so glad that they have someone like you and…and…”

You take her cheek in your hand, caressing her porcelain face. Your eyes wander to her Ruby red lips. Her eyes dart to yours.

Like metal to a magnetic, you two launch at each other. Wanda holds you tight as your arms wrap around her waist. You kiss her lips with all the passion you thought you buried deep down. Out of pure instinct one of her legs wraps around your waist as you gently push her against the fridge.

“I love you” you whisper against her lips. “I’ve loved you for so long”

“Same here…detka” her voice drips with that little nickname.

You share slow loving kisses as her hands massage your scalp. Her touch, the very thing you’ve craved, satisfies your very soul.

“Wanda?”

“Mmm?”

“I think the oven’s about to go off” you warn as the smell of something slightly burnt fills the air. Wanda giggles as you and her pull away.

“To be continued” she giggles before giving you one last kiss.

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximilf #wanda maximommy #scarlet witch #billy and tommy #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #scarlet witch x reader

[friccinfricks]

Joe Elliott x Reader: penpals edition, pt 2

WARNING: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT

SUPER DIRTY, DELINQUENT SMUT

MINORS DNI, 18+ EXCLUSIVE

nsfw content warning: (relatively) light bdsm, overall rough sex

- “oh… oh my god.”

- you’ve checked in early and made a mental note of the amenities in the hotel, particularly the spacious bathtub with jets.

- after the night you’re planning to have, you’ll definitely be looking forward to a hot bath. you hope so, at least

- the king sized bed sat across from a closet, which had sliding doors that also functioned as a mirror. you couldn’t help but smile when you saw yourself, completely in black, your skirt riding up and the buttons on your blouse clinging for dear life.

- you assured yourself, yes, tonight would be memorable in all the right ways.

- you also took note of the two silky white bathrobes that hung on the bathroom door. you wondered if you should change into one now, but after another once over, concluded that no, if you wanted the night ahead of you to be rough, it would be best to dress the part.

- sex with Joe wasn’t always rough, in fact it could be quite intimate and gentle, but lately you’d both been craving something animalistic.

- in the letters you’d written to each other, Joe detailed his hunger to you

- how badly he wanted to dig his hands into your hips as he fucked the living hell out of you.

- to hold you down and-

- just drill into you.

- you told him how much you ached for his touch, how badly you needed to feel him.

- you both thought about it constantly.

- you could already feel heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about those letters, previous nights, and the night that was right in front of you.

- you sighed and reached into your duffle bag, pulling out a book as you waited.

- and waited.

- and waited.

- and then you heard it, the sound of the lock turning, the flip of the light switch to the entry light. the shuffling of shoes and bags

- he did a double take when he saw you, curled on top of the duvet, book in hand. you made eye contact, an absolute shit eating grin on your face.

- “oh… oh my god.” he said it so softly, you weren’t even sure you heard him correctly.

- “Y/N!” he nearly shouted, dropping his bags and running towards you as you got up from the bed.

- “Joey!” he embraced you tightly, his hair and skin still slightly damp from the post-show shower.

- “How are you here?” he asked, just before he kissed you tenderly.

- “It’s… a lo…ng story.” you mustered between drawn out, increasingly wet and intense kisses.

- “I’m so happy you’re here.” he said softly. you felt him smirking against your lips, before he nipped at your bottom one and moved his hand from your lower back to your ass, quickly massaging it before giving it a brisk smack

- you leaned further into him, hissing air through your teeth, but humming satisfactorily as you felt him massage the spot again.

- before you could protest, Joe picked you up from your waist and tossed you on the bed.

- he climbed on top of you, purposefully placing one of his knees between your thighs.

- he sucked on your lip and moved down to your neck, clinging onto any skin he could.

- fuck, you’d missed this.

- suddenly, he stopped, pulled back and said, “Ah, love, I’m so sorry. I’ve needed to pee since before I got here.”

- you chuckled as you sat up, “go on, then.”

- “right. sit right there. and you know what?” he paused, leaned in and whispered in your ear. “I know you’re wet. why don’t you get us started?”

- he kissed your cheek and hopped off of you, quickly retreating to the bathroom. after a few minutes, you heard the faucet start and stop, the lock click, and he emerged.

- in his hand he held both of the belts to the silk robes, a smirk spreading across his face when your eyes met his.

- his eyes alone ravaged your body, taking in the sight of you leaning against the pillows with a hand tucked under your skirt, teasing your own entrance and clit.

- you sucked in a breath of air when he came back out, wearing only his boxers, with a very obvious outline of his raging erection.

- “Oh baby, do not expect to be let off easy tonight. not when you’ve shown up dressed in this.”

- you whimpered as he moved in on you, grabbing your wrist before replacing your fingers with his, and bringing your hand to his mouth. he gently sucked on them, closing his eyes in a tiny expression of ecstasy.

- “mmm, no panties?”

- “fuck” you whispered, ignoring his question as his index finger circled your entrance.

- “hmm? what’s that?”

- “I said fuck.”

- “Oh, I could have sworn you said, ‘please, fuck me like a slut.’”

- “That’s what I meant.”

- he smiled at you, before inserting a finger inside of you.

- he pumped it quickly, then added a second.

- by this point, you’re instinctively squeezing around his fingers, gripping the sheets around you and trying your best to stay quiet.

- “honey, did you bring your…?”

- your vibrator. you did, it’s sitting in your bag at the foot of the bed, but your ability to say all of that is highly impaired.

- you nod your head.

- “You did? where is it?”

- “it’s… it’s ov-”

- “words baby, use your words.” he says, feigning ignorance as he continuously curls his fingers up into your g-spot.

- “it’s over there, in my bag.”

- “thank you, love.”

- he pulls his fingers out and instead shoves them in your mouth this time. you make a small, muffled gasp as you taste yourself.

- “turn around, please.”

- “what?”

- “around. now.”

- he slides off of you and the bed as you sit up further and turn around, resting on your knees.

- he helps you slip your blouse off, soon followed by your skirt.

- another brisk smack against your ass.

- “hands.”

- you slowly place your hands behind your back, and are immediately met with the cold touch of silk being wrapped around your wrists, then tied exceptionally tightly.

- not that you have any desire to escape, you instinctively start to struggle once you feel the knot secured.

- “tsk tsk tsk. you’re not getting out this time.”

- you sighed as you felt his warm hands move your hair away from your neck

- he placed a soft kiss and reminded you, “just tell me if you need me to stop, okay? if it’s too much just tell me.”

- you nodded, he kissed your neck again, and muttered, “good.”

- you then felt the second silk belt wrap around your head and your eyes, looping twice to ensure its placement

- you felt Joe’s hands guide your shoulders to turn you back around and lean you into the pillows

- he kissed your cheek and whispered, “be a good girl and sit still for me, hmm?”

- you nodded

- “words.”

- “yes.”

- “yes what?”

- “yes sir.”

- a second kiss on the cheek

- you felt him walk away and soon heard him rummaging through your bag

- “oh, you dirty girl.”

- the vibrator started buzzing.

- you felt the bed shift as he sat down on it, he smacked the side of your thigh harshly.

- “go on, open up.”

- you listened and quickly parted your legs

- you didn’t last long.

- after just minutes you were squirming under his touch as he increased the intensity, pressing harder into your clit, arching your back when he added a surprise finger

- Joe loved making you shake like this, he found so much satisfaction in watching you unravel at his fingertips

- before long, you were softly whimpering, “Joe, please. I’m close”

- as soon as he heard this, he immediately turned off the vibrator and removed his fingers

- “what the fuck?!”

- he tossed the vibrator aside and shoved his fingers in your mouth again,

- “it’s my turn.”

- “your turn?” you mumbled against his finger tips

- “mhm.” he took them out of your mouth and took off the blindfold

- “hello again, sunshine.” he said softly, smiling

- “hello my dear.”

- he grabbed your hips and moved you further down on the bed, lifting them slightly as he aligned your entrance with the tip of his cock

- he leaned in and thrust his hips forward slightly, entering

- you both hitched your breath as he sank into you

- “shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

- “no, you’re so fucking big.”

- you both chuckled.

- “we’ll call it even, then.”

- after that, it was intense, hot, and fiery.

- he moved you into all sorts of positions,

- while in doggy, he turned you around to make you face the mirror so that you could watch him pound into you.

- during the transition from doggy to putting you on top of him, he removed your silky bonds so that you could hold onto his shoulders

- neither one of you could have said how long he’d been plowing into you, but you’d finished on his cock twice before you felt his hips start to stutter from beneath you

- “Y/N, I’m gonna cum. oh my god, I am going to fucking fill you to the brim.” he said through gritted teeth as he looked up at you

- you nodded and said, “do it.”

- immediately after you felt him finish twitching inside of you, you slid off and collapsed next to him

- in the dim lighting you watched the outline of his chest move up and down with each breath, yours doing the same

- he turned his head to smile at you, “thank you, my dear.”

- you laughed and said, “the pleasure is all mine.”

- he kissed your forehead and sat up, his smile disappearing when he noticed your neck

- “what’s wrong?”

- “um… do you have a problem with wearing turtlenecks everyday to work for a few days…?”

- your smile grew larger as you watched a blush run across his cheeks

- “no, not even a little bit.”

- “good.” his smile returned.

- soon after, he insisted on carrying you to the bathroom so that you could clean up and take a warm bath together

- you sighed contently as you leaned against his chest, your head fitting perfectly against his shoulder.

- “so, tell me about your trip.”

:)

#joe elliott #def leppard #joe elliott x reader #mei’s head canons :)

[ghostiewriter]

summary: Riven returns from a long, gruelling mission and there is only one person he wants to see. Or, day thirteen of ghostie's spooktober spectacular.

read here on ao3.

.

It had been three weeks since they had last seen each other. 

Not by choice, not really. 

Silva hadn’t given him much of a choice when he slapped him on the back, told him to gear up and meet the rest of the crew at the Bastion within the next ten minutes. 

He barely even had time to say goodbye before they were loaded into a jet, heading towards the other side of Solaria—the coast that closest bordered Andros—with no real timeline on how long they would be stationed there. 

All they knew was what Silva had told them: they needed warriors, they wanted to avoid bloodshed for as long as possible and to get their head out of their asses and be real specialists, not specialists in training. 

The contact with Alfea had been minimal, the days had been long and the nights even longer. There was very little that actually brought him joy out on the field, as grim as it sounded. He knew this was what he had been training his whole life for, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable. Or very rewarding when the bloodshed they tried to avoid inevitably happened. 

He had barely spoken a word to Sky on the long ride back. He barely acknowledged Silva when he demanded a report drawn up by tomorrow night. He barely had the energy to dump his weapons and armour at the armoury in the Bastion before he was making his way towards one room in particular, feeling the first semblance of happiness tighten in his chest. 

Riven didn’t bother trying to the winx suite when he knew exactly where she would be. He knew that his room was a safe haven, that it was usually empty and Musa tended to confide in his dorm for some peace. He knew Sky would already be at Bloom’s door and he knew Musa would undoubtedly be lying on his bed, headphones on and book in her hand. 

As dramatic as it sounded, he could’ve sobbed when he opened the door and that was the exact position he found her in. 

Musa barely had three seconds before she felt his body covering her down, his arms wrapped around her torso and his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck like he was scared she would disappear. 

Or maybe he was scared it was all a dream and he would wake up, cold and miserable in his shared tent with Sky snoring his ear off to the right. 

“You’re back,” her voice was soothing and melodic and god, he just missed it so much. 

“You smell nice,” he murmured against the crook of her neck. “Bet you’ve used up all my shampoo.” 

“It smells like you,” Musa said, not sounding the least bit sorry and it made him smile. 

Riven let out a soft groan as he felt her fingers work through his hair. It was a bit longer than the last time she had seen him, and it only irritated him enough to contemplate using a dagger to cut his own hair three times over the last few weeks. But Musa seemed to enjoy it, or maybe she just enjoyed being close to him too. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” his voice croaked, a little rough and a little hoarse, but so sincere it made her throat close up. 

He felt her arms squeeze around him, a soft kiss pressed on the crown of his head and neither of them moved. Neither of them wanted to move, not just yet at least. 

His clothes felt a little scratchy and unbearably hot, they felt clunky and uncomfortable and like he had been wearing the same damn outfit for the last three weeks. 

“You should probably shower,” Musa whispered gently, not wanting to break the ambience. “You kinda stink.” 

“Thanks, love,” Riven grumbled but he made no action to move. 

She ran her hand up and down his back, though she doubted he could barely feel her touch over his chunky armour. “I can go get us dinner—“

“No.”

Musa raised her brows. “No?” 

“Let’s just…stay here.” 

“Okay,” she said as she settled back into the bed, knowing there was no chance either of them would be moving just yet. “We’ll just stay here for a bit.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbled against her skin. “I just—” 

“I know,” she said and pressed another kiss along his temple. “But you’re gonna have to finish your report before Silva has your ass.” 

Riven huffed out a laugh. “Don’t sound too excited.” 

“The only one who can have your ass is me,” Musa said and grinned at the way his body shook on top of her. The tension had left his body, he didn’t seem as uptight and stressed as he was when he stumbled into the room and that alone was enough for her. 

It took another fifteen minutes before she could finally tempt Riven to get up from the bed, helping him shed off his armour from his exhausted body and slapping his hands away when he tried to tempt her into the shower with him. 

She pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, promising she would be back before he got out of the shower. Riven only pouted in response before he made his way towards the attached bathroom. 

Her small chats with Doris paid off when she snuck down to the kitchen, flashed some puppy dog eyes and asked for some plates to sneak up to the specialist dorms. It wasn’t anything special but she had no doubt it would’ve been better than whatever he had been eating out on the field. 

Riven had just stepped out of the bathroom when she shut the door behind her, towel still wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso. 

“Doris made those potatoes you like,” she grinned as she lifted the plate towards him. 

“I might have to marry Doris,” Riven snorted as he took both of the plates from her and placed them down on his desk. 

Riven didn’t even bother getting changed when he sat back on the headboard, pulling her to sit in between his legs and grabbing their plates. 

“You gonna start feeding me too?” she teased as he wrapped his arms around her, back pressed against his front and his legs caging her in. 

“Just wanna be close to you,” Riven shrugged, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. 

“I know,” Musa said, lips fighting her own grin. “I like it.” 

“Good because I’m not letting you go for three weeks now.” 

“Oh?” 

“Three weeks of Sky’s snoring, baby. That’s what I’ve had to endure, this is the least I deserve.”

.

#ghostie's spooktober spectacular #rivusa #fate: the winx saga #fate #riven #musa #rivusa fic #rivusa fanfic #rivusa fanfiction #fate: the winx saga fic #fate: the winx saga fanfic #fate: the winx saga fanfiction #fate fic #fate fanfic #fate fanfiction #my writing

[blackest-soul]

Fool for Falling: Pt. 2 (S.R x You)

Pio’s POV

"Got a minute," I asked her, after the set performance. She glanced at me with a curious smile, her eyes sparkling under the stage lights. "Yeah, sure. What can I do for you, P?" I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"I know you should be out there mingling with your work friends, and Dr. Hot Genius but I want to play one more song. An acoustic one." I said my voice barely above a whisper. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, and she tilted her head slightly. "An acoustic song plus the rain outside? I think I've seen that film before," she said with a playful grin. I chuckled at the obvious Taylor Swift reference and shook my head. "Good one, so are you okay with playing another one? You know this song. You helped me write it when I was trying to get over an ex lover," I said, remembering the countless nights we spent laughing and sharing our deepest secrets. Her smile softened, and she nodded. Y/N’s POV Pio waited. Wondering if I should tell the story of how this song came about. I nodded. Maybe, it is about time to share how we both, decided to write something so tragically beautiful, just so we could fill the void and emptiness we were both feeling at that period in our lives. 

"Heyyy!! So I know everyone is enjoying our jamming session a little while ago but it is drizzling outside and why don't we serenade you with a special song?" I announced, my voice echoing through the room. The crowd erupted into applause, excited to hear what was coming next. They all settled down as I try to change my electric guitar to an acoustic one. I strummed a few chords and glanced at Pio, who was seated next to me with his piano.

"This song was written during a time when Pio and I were experiencing the pain of unrequited love," I said. "But not with each other, y'all are nasty. He is like a brother to me. An annoying one." Laughter filled the room, and I continued, my heart fluttering with a mix of nostalgia and vulnerability.

Of course, I know the song, Pio's been referring to. We wrote it during one of those nights, on the rooftop of my apartment, with the city lights below and a gentle drizzle falling. 

"This song was written during a very difficult case. I couldn't really explain what the case was about since you know confidentiality and all that," I continued, glancing at Pio who nodded in agreement. "But I can tell you that it weighed heavily on my heart," I added, my voice taking on a somber tone. "Every day, I found myself grappling with the complexities of the case, trying to find justice and closure for those involved. It was emotionally draining, and I needed an outlet to express my feelings and emotions.” Pio chimed in, "Yeah, I remember those days. You were buried in documents, spending countless hours at the office, and even when you are here at the bar, your mind was still occupied by the case. I knew you needed something to help you cope with the stress.”  “It also did not help that I had to watch the person I was, still am, irrevocably in love with, fall in love with someone else--- and get betrayed.” I added. I glanced at the team’s table, taking in all their shocked expression, especially that of Spencer’s. I am no behavior analyst but I still learned from the few years that I have been working there (besides I still work there). I saw pain and vulnerability in his eyes. Or maybe I think I did. I am not so sure anymore. Is he even aware that these songs are for him?  As I shared the last few words, a heavy silence engulfed the room. Penelope’s expression softened, understanding the pain that those words carried. She knew the depths of my emotions and how difficult it had been for me to witness the person I loved falling for another. "I can't even begin to imagine how challenging that must have been for you," Pio finally said, his voice filled with empathy. "To have your heart tied to someone while they were drawn towards another person and then to be betrayed... It's an immense emotional turmoil to endure." Nodding, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I continued, “So yeah, this goes for all of you, especially to my person. Maybe one day, in the near future, when it’s sunny and the flowers are blooming, I will get to tell you how I feel. But for now....”  Pio played the piano and the melody filled the air. I let my voice carry out to the room as I sang my most heart wrenching song. Fuck Cat Adams for evoking this feeling of hopelessness and jealousy within me.  Please don't leave me, baby I don't wanna be alone But if you leave me, baby I'll have no one here at home

I glanced towards the audience and saw Spencer sitting there, his eyes locked on me, captivated by the performance. It was clear that he felt the depth of my feelings, even if he might not fully understand their origin. 

You remind me of the summertime But sadly that's all I have But maybe in another life I wouldn't feel so bad I know what you told me But I don't know what I was thinking I know I'm supposed to be ready But I never did let it sink in We had what we had We had what we had I continued singing, my voice quivering with the intensity of the emotions pouring out. The lyrics laid bare my love for him. Spencer's expression shifted subtly as the song progressed, indicating that he was genuinely moved by the depth of my emotions. There was a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and concern on his face, as if he wanted to understand what I was going through but was hesitant to intrude on something so personal. Hoping for a miracle When I wake up in the morning When I open my eyes It's summertime again Please don't leave me, baby I don't wanna be alone But if you leave me, baby I'll have no one here at home Please don't leave me, baby As the final note of the song hung in the air, a bittersweet feeling settled over us. The music had poured out all the pain and raw emotions that had been bottled up inside. I couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable. The weight of baring my soul in front of Spencer was both liberating and terrifying. But I wasn't ready to confess everything just yet. There were so many layers to our connection, and I feared that revealing my true feelings might complicate our friendship. As I stepped away from the microphone, the applause from the audience snapped me back to the present moment. There was a mix of genuine appreciation and empathy in their applause, as if they had felt the emotional journey I had just taken them on. After the performance, as I mingled with the my friends, Spencer found his way to me. His eyes held an unspoken understanding, as if he sensed that there was more behind the song than what was revealed on the surface.

"That was a beautiful and heartfelt performance," Spencer said, his voice filled with warmth.

"Thank you," I replied, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"Is everything alright?" he asked gently, looking into my eyes with genuine concern. I paused for a moment, contemplating whether to open up to him then and there. But I held back, not yet ready to confess the full extent of my feelings.

"Yeah, everything's fine. It's just... that song means a lot to me," I replied, offering a small smile to hide the turmoil within. Spencer nodded understandingly, not pressing further. "Well, it definitely touched everyone in the room. Penelope’s still crying over your last performance and I think Derek is calling Sav to tell her how much he loves her. And I think JJ has Will on the phone when you were performing to share this moment with him and I’m pretty sure Rossi is thinking of getting married again and Em... well Em and Hotch are allergic to feelings and that’s just how they are...” Spencer rambled, as if afraid that if he stops talking, the bubble will burst. I am so tempted to ask him what he thought of it. All of it. But I am scared. Not now.  "Thank you," I said softly, grateful for his kind words. One day, I told myself, I will tell you I love you but for now... I am content to just be Y/N, your friend from work. 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer fluff #spencer reid angst

[syndullqs]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓

summary — after losing someone close to you, hunter helps you with the grief that follows.

warnings — fem!reader, mention of death, descriptions of grief

note — everyone experiences grief differently. this is based off of my experiences but also what i’ve seen with others.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆, yet at the same time, you didn’t. the moment you heard of your brother being hospitalized, you didn’t have a good feeling about the outcome. you never saw your brother being hospitalized, though.

through your anxious waiting, the bad batch watched on with desperate expressions. they didn’t know how to help, nor what to do. tech would spew facts, telling his brothers that you were ‘anxious’ and that ‘based on the doctor’s predictions,’ your brother’s recovery wasn’t going to be easy. if he’d get there.

it was late one night when you got a comm from your mother, who you hadn’t heard from in quite some time. ever since you got close with the bad batch, being ‘hired’ as their mechanic, you rarely ever saw your family.

“y/n, hun,” the tone of your mother’s voice didn’t comfort you. it, in fact, sent you into an early spiral.

“just tell me, mom,” you begged her through gritted teeth, trying to hold the hot tears at bay for just a while longer; maybe she had good news.

“he’s gone. he passed an hour ago,” your mother tried to keep it together as she was met with a few moments of silence on the other end of the comm. you stood in shock, not able to process what happened at first. there was no way your brother was gone.

then the tears came. the never-ending flow of sorrow that streamed from your eyes, dripping down your cheeks and onto the floorboards of the marauder. your mother spewed how sorry she was, but there was nothing she could do. not while you were away from her. so, the call ended and you were stuck in the cockpit of the marauder, sobs attempting to wrack your body.

hunter picked up on the change the second after your mother gave you the bad news. he’s never dealt with grief before, at least how it should be handled. he heard your cries and even though he wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone or not, he wanted to let you know that he was there for you.

hunter crept into the cockpit where you sat, your knees brought up to your chest and your head buried between your knees. your sobs were heard and hunter felt his heart break. he could feel the sorrow seeping out of you, but he still knelt down and placed a hand on your knee. you twitched, but didn’t move.

“y/n, love?” his voice was calm and you were drawn to it. you sniffled, picked your head up and wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

“he’s gone,” you whispered before your eyes were stung with hot tears again. hunter didn’t have to ask who you were talking about, and even if he didn’t know who you were talking about, he wouldn’t ask.

as sobs once again wracked your body, hunter slowly pulled you in close, testing to see if you actually wanted to be touched. you didn’t fight his embrace, so he took that as a sign to keep you there in his arms.

you cried for what felt like hours, even if it was only for an hour or so. you were exhausted and your face was all puffy from the amount of crying you’d done. your body ached, grieving in its own way. you pulled away from hunter and he looked at you, his own expression revealing that he, too, was tired but was still concerned for you.

“i’m here, love,” he hummed as he wiped away a stray tear. you merely nodded, holding his hand as it fell away from your face.

“i’m such an ugly crier,” you tried to joke, but your joke ended up with you in tears again.

“no no, you’re not,” he wrapped his arms around you again, not being able to help the small smile forming on his face. he’d hold you for the rest of the night, even if it meant he got no sleep. he just wanted you to feel better, no matter how long it took.

um, hi? it’s been a hot minute hasn’t it. i’ve not had motivation to write for any fandom so while i have motivation i’m writing for all of my blogs haha. i wrote this because a couple of my friends have been grieving this week and just wanted them to know they’re not alone. if you’re grieving a loss or just aren’t in a good place, you’re not alone. i’m here for you and so are so many others. stay strong my friends, we’ve got this ❤️

#star wars #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #star wars the clone wars #bad batch #bad batch imagines #sergeant hunter imagines #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter imagine

[cryptics-grimoire]

Huh, I guess it’s been a hot minute since I’ve updated over here. Probably partially because my blog gets no traction here (not that Twitter is much better), but also just because my art’s been so sporadic here lately with the stresses of RL around every corner. But all that aside, I’ve got a nice handful of pieces of Marchosias and Tabbris that haven’t been uploaded to this blog yet that I’m still really pleased to share anyway. The newest pieces are the sketches on the bottom row. The first just a sensual sketch I was feeling at the time, the second a hurt/comfort scene that we just wrote in their story. ;v; 

The other newest ones from this year would be 1.) the very first, where my partner and I were talking about how it would be funny if miss grouchy mcscowlfeathers over here was ticklish! Oh boy, will Marchosias absolutely exploit that knowledge with delight when he finds out. xD and 2.) the first in the second row where I wanted to do a series of anatomy studies by doodling some sparring/kickboxing sketches of the two. Still hoping to do that one day.

The rest are pieces from 2021 that I’ve done here and there. Holiday mistletoe and ugly winter sweater shenanigans, some cute stuff. Another hurt/comfort scene, this one of the emotional variety as they discuss Marchosias’ traumatic past, and finally one angee Tabbs drawn to the lyrics of “Brittle” by Icon for Hire!

I’m too lazy to make separate posts for each so here we are!

Artwork and Tabbris (c) @selkiesappho Marchosias (c) @fiendish-whispers

#marchosias x tabbris #marchosias #tabbris #game of survival #infernal syndicate #ocs #original characters #my ocs #friend ocs

[the-widow-sisters]

Hi,

first of all, I just want to say that I absolutely adore all of your stories. You are one of my most favourite writers on AO3 who writes about Widow Sisters. ❤️

Secondly, I want to ask if it would be possible for you to write a role-reversal of Opening Her Heart?

I love that story and I'd love to see the reversal + maybe a little of Kate in it as well, since she wasn't in the original. 🤗

P.S. I love how you portray Kate + Yelena + Natasha dynamic. 🥰

A/N: Thank you so, so much 🥺💗💗💗 You are so sweet, and it means so much that you like the Natkatlena dynamic (and yes I just thought that up on the spot 🤣 It’s a working title) 💖 It’s always the best thing ever to hear from you guys 😊

And gosh, y’all.... Wow! Haven't had a mostly Natasha-and-Yelena-centered one in a while! Hopefully I haven't quite lost my touch when it comes to writing some of our favorite sisters 😂💗 I guess you’re about to dive in and find out 😅😬

I hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

Word Count: 1849

  A text on Natasha’s phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. Natasha flinched minutely as she reached down and withdrew the thing from her pants’ pocket.

  Natasha looked down at her phone, subtly sneaking a glance underneath the table as she diverted her attention from the utterly riveting meeting that she was being forced to sit through.

  It was yet another painful meeting with Steve droning on and on about something or another that really did not have to be drawn out as long as it was. She was currently bored stiff, and Yelena was not even there to offer her entertainment of any sort.

  Yelena had been spared from going because Carol was currently present for the meeting. Carol had been relatively open to coming to it, happily sitting next to Natasha and settling in, but now that it had gone on for at least an hour, Natasha could see how the blonde was shifting uncomfortably in her seat and casting one too many glances at the clock on the wall.

  “Whatcha looking at?” Carol leaned over and questioned softly, her mouth close to Natasha’s ear as she whispered carefully. Natasha glanced in her direction briefly before tilting the phone to the side to show her the screen. Carol looked down as she eyed the phone alongside Natasha. Natasha pulled up the text that she had received, quickly recognizing it as Kate.

  “Tasha I hope you’re done with the meeting! Yelena turned into Squishzilla!” Kate had sent to her, and Natasha raised an eyebrow, confused as she looked at the text. Carol chuckled heartily, trying to keep her voice down.

  “Squishzilla. Gosh, I wonder what she did to get shortie fired up,” Carol pondered aloud in a whisper, and Natasha narrowed her eyes a little.

  “You don’t know that she did something to fire her up,” Natasha optimistically expressed, trying to give Yelena the benefit of the doubt despite the fact that she knew Kate had likely done something inadvertently to rub Yelena just the wrong way and set her off.

  “I accidentally fired her up!” Kate suddenly sent, following up her last text. Natasha paused before sighing, and Carol almost snorted, barely keeping it down.

  “I called it,” Carol proudly pointed out, and Natasha narrowed her eyes at Carol half-heartedly. Natasha then shifted her gaze back up to look at Steve.

  “I’ve got to go and see about this. And I don’t think he’s anywhere close to finishing up…”

  “I can make him finish up if you want me to,” Carol offered, and Natasha looked at her uncertainly. Natasha finally nodded, and Carol replied with a nod of her own as she diverted her attentions to her boyfriend.

  “Hey, babe, as hot as you are when you’re up there trying to be large and in-charge, we’ve got to get some relief,” Carol spoke up suddenly, interrupting him in the midst of whatever he had been going on about.

  Natasha almost grinned as she looked between Carol and Steve. Steve turned redder than a beet and Carol was just smiling an enormous, suggestive, cheese-eating grin.

  Tony immediately clapped his hands, offering full approval of Carol’s proposition, and Sam waggled his eyebrows at Steve teasingly. Bruce just stared at the group, shaking his head slowly, and Peter was almost as red-faced as Steve even though the comment was not about him whatsoever. Steve stammered for several moments until finally clearing his throat. Rhodey just chuckled at Tony’s overenthusiasm.

  “Yeah, uh… Let’s… Take a brief break,” Steve agreed, his eyes locked onto Carol. Carol grinned, her eyes sparkling as she watched him mischievously. Tony got up, stretching luxuriously before patting Steve on the back affectionately yet roughly.

  “See, Rogers, this is why I always said that you needed to get l—”

  “Stark,” Steve warned, but his reddened face ruined quite a bit of the effect. Tony raised his hands in defense before heading over to talk to Rhodey. Carol flashed Natasha a thumbs-up as she stood up, and Natasha nodded to her gratefully, mouthing a thank-you.

  Carol winked at her before heading over to Steve, and Natasha got up, making her way for the door.

  “So… I have some more… specific… questions that I need you to address,” Natasha overheard Carol flirtatiously addressing Steve. There were immediate catcalls from some of the guys, and definitive groans from others.

  Natasha just rolled her eyes, and without a word, left to go and check on Kate and Yelena and see why Yelena was being considered Squishzilla.

  Kate finally sent her the location that she was currently holed up at, and Natasha soon found herself standing before two large columns that were separated just close enough for Kate to hoist herself up by spreading her legs to inch upward to the ledge above. Fortunately for Kate, Yelena’s legs weren’t long enough for her to inch up between the columns as Kate had done.

  Which was why Yelena was currently standing at the bottom, her eyes narrowed as she glared up at the brunette. Natasha could practically feel the irritation rolling off of her baby sister in waves, and Kate was sitting just high enough to keep Yelena from effectively reaching her.

  “Okay, so what’s happening here?” Natasha asked, and Yelena turned quickly to look at the redhead. As soon as Yelena made eye contact with her, she loosened up some. To the untrained eye, it was completely unnoticeable, but to Natasha, it was quite obvious. Yelena’s eyes softened just barely, and while there was still a large amount of irritation toward Kate, she was obviously happy to see Natasha.

  “You say that like you knew this was going on,” Yelena astutely pointed out, and Kate let out a long breath.

  “Thank you, Tasha… Squishzill— Yelena was getting out of hand,” Kate quickly revised her words, trying to keep Yelena from figuring out about the name she had used for her via text. Kate made a slight face, cringing as Yelena swiftly spun around again to glare at Kate.

  “What did you call me?”

  “Well… Obviously Yelena,” Kate chuckled nervously. Yelena narrowed her eyes.

  “No, before that,” Yelena clarified, definitive danger in her voice. Kate laughed nervously, scratching the back of her neck a little as she fidgeted. Natasha glanced between the two. Kate swallowed, wetting her lips just barely before shooting Yelena a winning smile.

  “Y’know… I said whatever you wanted me to say,” Kate declared, and Yelena just stared at her.

  “I mean… I could’ve said Yelena… Could’ve said… Other mentorish figure… Other big si—”

  “Get out of here,” Yelena tiredly interrupted, utterly and completely unimpressed with Kate’s efforts. Kate nodded immediately in reply to her.

  “Will do,” Kate quickly replied before dropping down from the ledge she had climbed up on, barely keeping her footing as she darted away as quickly as she could.

  Yelena groaned, and Natasha stepped a little closer as she lifted her hand slowly to brush against Yelena’s arm. Yelena immediately looked back at her, and Natasha felt her heart melt as she spotted the utterly soft and adoring look in her eyes as she regarded the redhead.

  Yelena immediately turned her body to Natasha, offering the older woman her full attention as she eyed her. Natasha reached out to her lovingly, her hands cupping either side of her baby sister’s neck. Her thumbs gently rubbed the sides of Yelena’s neck, the callouses brushing softly against the soft skin. Yelena leaned toward her instinctively, attempting to draw closer to her.

  Natasha’s heart warmed at the mere sight of her baby sister wanting to be so close, and she moved nearer to oblige her. Yelena immediately moved in as close as she could, her nose pressed firmly into Natasha’s neck as she took a deep, long breath of her.

  Natasha shifted her hands away from the sides of Yelena’s neck to use one to cradle the nape of Yelena’s neck with the other rubbing her back softly. Yelena just leaned her full body into her, and Natasha steadied herself in order to keep Yelena from ploughing over her.

  “Bad day?” Natasha whispered finally, already having her answer from the desperation that Yelena was exhibiting in her every motion and how she was seeking to be as near to Natasha as she could possibly manage. She did not bother asking what Kate had done because knowing Yelena, Kate did not really have to do anything. If she was in one of those moods, anything could have set her off.

  Yelena just let out an indignant harrumph to Natasha’s words. However, it was largely half-hearted as she hugged Natasha’s middle with an arm and pulled Natasha’s shoulder closer against her face with the other to hide a little more efficiently from the world.

  Yelena finally nodded against her, nuzzling her nose against Natasha’s jaw as she rooted her way around to resting her chin on Natasha’s shoulder. Natasha huffed lightly at her little sister, and she turned her head to deliver a gentle kiss to the side of the blonde’s head.

  Natasha gently pulled Yelena over to the couch not too far away from them, and as soon as she pulled Yelena down on top of her, Yelena eyed her quizzically. However, her entire body was just relaxed heavily into Natasha’s.

  “Don’t you have to be at a meeting?” Yelena asked uncertainly.

  “Nah, Carol’s got us covered. She’s provided a pretty nice distraction,” Natasha chuckled, smirking a bit, and Yelena wrinkled her nose.

  “Why does that sound like she did something gross?” Yelena asked tentatively and with evident disgust in her voice.

  Natasha almost chuckled as she thought of Carol and Steve’s relationship and the fact that they would definitely not be going any further than kissing. Of course, with Yelena, it only had to be looking into each other’s eyes or talking about something less than perfectly unrelated to romance for it to be gross to the younger blonde.

  “Because to you,” Natasha paused as she shifted underneath Yelena to tug her down into her arms a little more securely, “it probably is gross.”

  Yelena laid her head on Natasha’s chest immediately, and Natasha stroked through her hair with her fingers, the fingernails brushing the scalp as she dragged long lines down from the crown of her head to the base of her neck.

  “Whatever. As long as the Boomer keeps him busy,” Yelena finally resigned, and Natasha smiled gently, kissing Yelena’s head near her hairline as she held her in her arms.

  There was silence for a long moment until Yelena dug her nose into Natasha’s shirt more deeply and sighed.

  “U menya byl plokhoy den'... No eto uzhe ne tak. Ne seychas, kogda ty zdes',”1 Yelena mumbled into her, and Natasha smiled softly at her words.

  “Mozhet byt', u menya i ne bylo plokhogo dnya, no ty vsegda delayesh' moy den' luchshe, detka,”2 Natasha assured her, and Yelena nestled closer as she closed her eyes. Natasha nuzzled her head, just enjoying her baby sister’s weight on top of her.

  They just made each other’s days better.

(1) "I had a bad day... But it's not anymore... Not now that you're here."

(2) "I might not have been having a bad day, but you always make my day better, baby."

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kate bishop #carol danvers #widow sisters #black widow #natasha romanov #steve rogers x carol danvers #steve x carol #steve/carol #steve rogers/carol danvers #captain marvel #steve rogers #tony stark #platonic cuddling #sisters #family #friendship #platonic #sam wilson

[sidemari]

Hi! Can I request n,k, and d on the NSFW alphabet with Xiao, Childe and/or Scara (if you write for him)

NSFW Headcanons

Pairings: Childe and Scaramouche x GN!Reader

Xiao headcanons are here!

Warnings: The title says it all. Don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with sexual content or with this specific theme. NSFW under the cut.

A/N: I decided to make lots of requests in this one so people can find my works easily, I hope you don't mind. The letters you asked are here and many more, if you want to read them. The art is not mine, it is from akali_yue on Twitter!

Childe 🌊

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He makes sure you're okay and comfortable. He'll clean you, bring you water or anything you might want. He'll hug you tightly against his body, as his fingers caress your hair.

Childe loves pillowtalk, so if you want to talk with him after you guys are done, he's more than pleased by it.

He will keep whispering reassuring words to you until he hears you snoring slightly. Smiling, he'll kiss your head and fall asleep behind you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of your body would be your thighs. Childe loves marking your skin with hickeys and kisses, he also adores when you press your thighs together against his head while he's giving you oral, he could do anything so that feeling would last longer.

Of his body, probably his favorite part would be his hands or his pretty face.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Tartaglia almost always ride his high inside you since he enjoys seeing his cum ooze of from you before cleaning you up. Also, he often scoops some of his seed using his fingers so he can make you taste it because he loves how embarrassed you look while doing so.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Your boyfriend loves teasing you in public, often whispering dirty words in your ears while you both are on a important situation just to see how embarrassed you can get.

His hands will squeeze your thighs and he'll kiss the soft spot of your neck out of nowhere just to see you jumping in surprise and watch what excuse you'll tell to those who got their attention on you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Childe does it often, even if you aren't away from him. Don't get him wrong, he prefers having sex with you instead of masturbating, but perhaps he does it to tease you.

Frequently he makes you watch him touching himself without letting you do anything besides staying still as a way to punish you even if you didn't do anything wrong.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Face sitting

Just ride this man's face, bestie. Just do it. You won't leave unsatisfied.

He just puts too much effort to give you pleasure. His nose brushes against your skin, as his hands hold your hips tightly while you squirm above him.

Degradation/ Praising

This dude is weird. Good luck standing him.

He showers you in affection but also loves to humiliate you.

He's "Awn, such a good baby to me, uh? Do you want me to go harder?" one second and "Take me well like the filthy whore you're, right? Unless you want me to punish you" on the other.

Master/Sir kink

Childe loves when you submit complete to him. He almost came on the spot when you left a breathy "Harder, please sir" spill out your mouth.

"What? What did my baby say?" His hands held your chin tightly.

"Please, master. Fuck me harder"

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Childe is a pretty open minded person, so he would like to try new things often, but if he notices you're uncomfortable with something, his desire would fade away on the spot. The last thing he would want is doing something you aren't okay with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both equally.

I have a scenario about giving Childe a blowjob, if you're interested.

But when it comes to giving you oral, he's skilled and does anything on his power to leave your pretty little legs shivering afterwards.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Childe is pretty vocal on the bedroom and his moans are really hot to listen to.

His moans sound angelic yet sinful and his gasps are your favorites since they make you feel like you're doing your job as his partner correctly.

Sometimes he'll be really loud during sex on purpose just to see your reaction and tease you about it.

Scaramouche ⚡

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He would love to try some games with you, like controlling the pace and intensity of a vibrator inserted inside your walls while you're out in public, just to see how long you could take with his teasing and how well could you hide from people when your orgasm hit you.

The day he offered you to play his little game you thought he would go easy on you... Poor thing, he had to take you to a place without much people, since your gasps attracted unwanted attention.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Scaramouche seems to be the kind of guy who likes to fuck you from behind, so perhaps 'Amateur' or 'Downward dog' would be the best choice, where he can be the dominant one while you just submit to his desires.

(Unfortunately I can't put visuals here or else Tumblr will delete this post, but you can search those positions if you're curious enough)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Scaramouche loves marking your skin with bites and hickeys, he enjoys licking some of the blood he perhaps may have drawn from your flesh.

He absolutely adores overstimulating your body after spending long minutes denying your orgasm and he's into mild degradation, often teasing you until you're begging for more.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Scaramouche won't admit it, but when you do something or some movement that shows more of your body, or when you use only a shirt of his with your underwear, or even when you give him some affection - like a kiss on his neck, or light touches against his skin - it all get him on his knees. He won't loose his cold demeanor, but you'll notice he's in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't share you with anyone, nor let someone see you in such a delicate moment.

I've never been so tired in my life... Hopefully those aren't bad, since I tried my best.

Some of those headcanons come from older posts of my blog, check them on my Masterlists (pinned post) if you're interested.

#childe smut #childe x reader #childe x you #childe #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #tartaglia x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin scenarios #genshin impact fanfiction

[creepychan08]

Yandere Oikawa x reader

It was a known fact that Oikawa always get what he wants. Be it in sports,  academics,  or girls he always come out at the top and he relishes in the attention that he gets. With his smooth words and gestures,  he managed to get the hearts of everyone he met- teachers, classmates, the trust of his teammates and even the principal himself.

Oh and did I mention?

Oikawa Tooru is the great Alpha of Aoba Johsai.

In this world,  werewolves exist and the population is divided into three class- alphas, betas, and the omegas.

There is also a predestined mate for each one of them. Usually, werewolves find their mate during their high school days where there bodies started releasing pheromones that catch the attention of their specific mates.

Despite of this however,  unmated werewolves can still flirt with anyone as long as they were still not taken to just generally waste their youth.

You were one of the people who are against that. You believed that since everyone has their own mates,  they must remain pure and untouched until they meet the one destined for them. That way even before meeting them,  it shows their loyalty in waiting for their partner.

Yes, and that's why you kind of despise Oikawa Tooru. Unfortunately,  he is your classmate so you have to suffer everyday in just being near his presence. His huge ego doesn't help as well.

"Omg,  look,  look!! He's sitting over there! I wanna talk to him!"

"Oikawa-senpai looks so hot today!!"

"Gosh,  I wonder if he will accept this lunch I prepared for him!"

"Notice me, Oikawa!!!"

The shrieks of girl flocking outside your classroom caused another headache in your already throbbing head. Closing your eyes in distressed,  you buried your head in your desk trying to drown out the sounds. Some of your classmates surrounded Oikawa and were eagerly shoving letters and foods on his desk as he laughed and winked flirtatiously at them.

You sighed and took out your bento,  figuring that it would be better to eat somewhere quiet. Standing up,  you didn't notice the gaze that followed your form as you exit your classroom.

Timeskip

It was the end of the last period and you walked out of the school when you forgot your textbook underneath your desk. Heaving a sigh of irritation,  you turned around and went back only to see two people talking in your classroom.

With the light from the sunset coating the room in a soft orange glow, you squint your eyes to see Oikawa with his hand tilting the chin of another girl as he moved his face forward and from where you can see, softly press his lips to the pair of awaiting ones. Feeling your face burn in embarassment from the scene, you gasped and quickly hide when you saw him turn towards you.

Disgusting.  Fucking disgusting.

Is the thought going in your head. You know he's a playboy but you couldn't help the shivers of disgust that runs in your body as you saw his display. How could he do that??  And the girl as well??  Yes,  they were unmated but still!  Haven't they ever thought how their mates would feel when they discover how their mates acted before meeting them? First kiss,  first hug,  first date. Wouldn't it be better to reserve that for your mate when you finally meet them?

Shaking your head in defeat you kind of pitied whoever ends up as Oikawa's mate. Oh well none of your business.

As you decided to forego your earlier plan of picking up your book, you turned to walk back down again when you feel a cold hand tightly gripping your arm.

"Yn-chan~" an eerie voice sounded loud in your ears as you shuddered in response. Turning around you saw Oikawa with the usual grin on his face but there was something dangerous in his eyes.

"Its bad to watch a confession,  you know?"

"I-" you felt the words stuck in your throat but you took a deep breath and faced him properly.

"I apologized for that Oikawa-san. I didn't meant to watch. I was just getting my book- I left it behind but seeing as you two were busy, I decided to just leave it there." You explained.

"Oh and please don't call me by my given name. We are not close. It's Ln-san to you."

Oh? One of Oikawa's eyebrows raised at your statement before he dramatically bowed at you as he pulled the door to the classroom open.

"By all means, please take what you need, Ln-san." It wasn't much but you feel uncomfortable in his presence so you quickly entered the room to find the girl crying where she stood. Trying to get out of the place at once,  you took your book and immediately flee the scene only to hear Oikawa giggling at you from behind.

"Don't worry Ln-san,  I didn't kiss her~ Take care!"

You scoffed in return. Who the fuck cares about that? That egoistic bastard!

A week has passed after that and you'd gladly say that everything return to normal but unfortunately it did not. After that encounter,  Oikawa started acting different around you. He seems to bother you at any chance he could. Like suddenly talking to you in class and asking to be partners for activities. Occasionally asking to have lunch with you as well.

Needless to say, you gather a lot of hatred from his fangirls who started harassing you. You heaved another sigh. Well.. there goes your plan for a quiet school year. Inwardly you curse him in your mind as you trudge towards your club activity. Hopefully, seeing your friends in the club can help dampen your negative mood.

It was night time when you finish in the school. Your friends waved goodbye to you and you return the notion as you slowly walked behind them. You took the time and just admire your surroundings. You always love watching the stars and moon. It makes you feel peaceful and relaxed.

Weirdly though,  you felt something unusual in your body. There was a tingling sensation and you felt light headed. Fortunately there was a bench near the gates of the school so you decided to rest there for a couple of minutes.

Breathing in the clean air around you,you try to relax when you suddenly pick up the scent of the most wonderful aroma you've ever smell. A group of footsteps soon followed and you watch a small crowd of volleyball players come out of the gym and towards the exit of the school.

You froze as you realized that wonderful smell is coming from their direction.

You feel your heart stopped. Is your mate a part of the Aoba Johsai volleyball club!?? Who is it??

Your answer soon came when you saw a lone pair of shoes stopped a distance before you. His friends unknowingly leaving him behind.

"Yeah,  don't you agree,  Shittykawa?" you heard a guy said before realizing they left their friend behind.

"Oi,  what are you standing there for?  Hurry up Oikawa!"

Your eyes twitched as it slowly goes up to see the owner of the pair of shoes that stop a distance from you and the group.

Oikawa Tooru.

He's your fucking mate!!?? 

Your mind couldn't grasp the info as you stared dumbly at him. At his awestruck look as well. His teammates seems to piece the picture and they immediately left,  bidding him farewell.

"You're my mate..." Oikawa whispers,  and you saw how he look at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world. You wish you could say the same. But its not because he's fucking Oikawa!  The one who played around and break a lot of girl's hearts. The one who probably had sex with a lot of girls before you.

And it broke your heart.

"Why is it you?" you asked, seeing him walk nearer towards you.

He stopped and looked at you like you shot him.

"What?"

"I've been waiting for this moment all my life and now... " You turn to hide your tears, ashamed to let him see your appearance.

"Don't!" Oikawa shouted, grasping your face with both of his face as he turn your face towards him.

"I always wondered why am I drawn to you in the past days.. what is it with you? And why have you caught my interest. I thought its because of what happened back then in that afternoon when you saw me with her." Then he shook his head,  "But I guess its not so. You see Yn-chan even before I knew you were my mate, it seems my body already knows its you. You're mine!" And with a strong force he pulled you towards him in a crushing embrace.

You stiffened. The words he uttered must be romantic to others but it only made shivers run down your spine. You don't know why but when he pulled back to look at you and you stared at those golden eyes of his, both pupils dilated, a rush of fight and flight kick in. He is dangerous. Your mind screamed at you. Get away from him!

You pushed him back and started running down past the school gates towards the empty street. You looked back to see his astonished face before it morph to a feral look and he smiled widely at you.

"Oh Yn-chan, don't run away~"

A set of footsteps soon followed and you gasped as you hear it coming nearer and nearer you.

"No!  Please stop!  Don't follow me!!!" You screamed as you continued running,  panting for breath. You knew there was something dangerous about him and with him acting like that it only proves your point.

"No!!  Can't you see you're mine and mine alone!! I'm your alpha!! " He yelled and with one lunge he pounced at you, grabbing you as you fall to the cement floor. Twisting his body so he take the blunt fall, you both finally skidded to stop. With you on top of him.

Opening your eyes,  you breath heavily as you realized you were lying on top of someone breathing as hard as you. That and you felt arms tightly wrapped around your waist was enough to jolt you back to reality.

Eh?

From below,  you saw Oikawa grin madly at you.

"I catched you now babe~ So don't try to escape me, your one and only alpha~"

Fin

#haikyuu #oikawa tooru #haikyu #oikawa x reader #alpha oikawa #omega reader #mate #yandere #yandere oikawa x reader #anime #readerinsert #reader #tooru #possessive oikawa #yandere oikawa x mate reader #aobajohsai

[imtooscaredforthis]

Unknown Caller

Ghostface x Reader Smut

Summary: Late at night, you start getting texts from the serial killer and your stalker, Ghostface.

Mentions of: Threats, Death, Stabbing, Sexting, Phone sex, Knife play, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Recording w/out Consent and Danny being super horny

Word Count: 2.4K

With an exhausted groan, you collapsed back onto your bed, letting the mattress suck you in. It had been yet another long, shitty work day, leaving you mentally drained and wanting to sleep.

The only thing that kept you from sleeping was how gross, sticky, and sweaty you felt from walking around in that shitty waitress uniform. It was a summer day in Florida, after all. Of course you would be burning your ass off. And somehow, the urge to take a shower overpowered your fatigue.

So after an extra moment or two of laying down, you got up, grabbing your phone and a towel, heading into the bathroom and locking the door behind you, just in case any unwelcome visitors came in. You knew exactly who that visitor was.

You tried to shake the thought of the masked murderer, not even daring to think his name. The last thing you needed tonight was having him come around. Maybe he would just give you a break for once and leave you alone. Maybe…

Sighing, you tapped at your phone, playing some music and stripping down. Stepping into the shower, you turned the heat all the way up, letting the hot water pour down onto your skin until it turned red. You washed off all the stress and trouble from the day, finally being able to relax.

Once you got out of the shower, you slipped on a black lacy bra with matching panties, using a robe to cover it up. You had grown used to spending the nights alone, with no one to take home, no friends to speak with.

You lost them all, since they all thought you were being crazy and paranoid about being stalked by Ghostface. Even after one of your dear friends died, (the only one who believed you) they still thought you were crazy. In fact, they thought you killed him. And the cops were no help either, thinking all the threats were just some prankster or copycat.

So now, here you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media, when you got a text.

Unknown: Evening, gorgeous

You stared at the message blankly, feeling your heart drop in your stomach. It was him.

You cast a protective glance over at your bedroom window, which had the curtains drawn and the blinds shut, as an attempt of giving yourself some sort of privacy from the stalker. Was he out there? Waiting outside the window to peek, or behind your door to jump out at you. Even though he’s been doing this for a while, you’d still never get used to it.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you began to type up a message to respond to him. You learned the hard way to answer his texts and calls.

(Y/N): What do you want to torture me with now?

Even though you were still quite afraid of the killer, there were times where you found him a complete nuisance, and got the guts to told him. This was one of those times.

Unknown: C’mon, don’t be like that. I have fun with the games we play. But I want to try something different tonight.

(Y/N): Like what?

Unknown: Like how I can see what you’re wearing and can’t help but wonder if you put all of that on just for me

You felt your face go a bright red, looking around and grabbing the hem over your robe, moving it over, attempting to cover up your body.

Unknown: There’s no use in covering it up now, I’ve already seen everything and it’s gotten me so hard

Looking at the text, you blinked a few times, making sure this was real. Maybe it was just some weird sex dream. You pinched yourself. Nope. This was real. The feared serial killer of Roseville was sexting you.

Unknown: You look so cute like that, all surprised and scared, it makes me want to cut you up and fuck you until you can’t walk.

Unknown: You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

Your mouth went dry as you tried to think of something to text him back with, your body running hot with arousal. You can’t believe this is turning you on. It really shouldn’t be.

Unknown: There’s no need to be so shy, (y/n). You know we can be honest with each other.

(Y/N): Yes I would

Unknown: Good girl

Unknown: My cock is just throbbing thinking about how nice and tight you would be, how good you would squeeze me, how I’d love to fill you up with my cum. And you’d love every second of it, wouldn’t you, baby?

(Y/N): Fuck yes

You rubbed your thighs together, feeling how drenched you were getting, a silent moan leaving your lips, not even realizing he was paying attention to every little detail.

Unknown: Shit, that was so hot. I’m really turning you on, aren’t I?

Unknown: You want to touch yourself don’t you? Want to get off on the dirty things I’m telling you? Well you can’t. Not unless you beg for it like a good girl.

You would object, but you knew you were too far in to stop yourself. It had been quite a long time since you had done something like this, and a part of you felt desperate. So, you did it. You begged.

(Y/N): Please, Ghostface. Please let me touch myself.

Unknown: Good. Go ahead, but take off that robe. You won’t be needing it.

Moving your arm out, you shrugged the robe off your shoulders, spreading your legs ever so slightly. Might as well give him a show.

You ran your hand down your stomach, moving it down to your hips, and then your thigh, while your other hand stayed high on your chest, running your finger over your clothed nipple. After a moment or two, you dipped your finger under the fabric, running it up and down your drenched slit. You played with your clit, leaning back and moaning softly.

Unknown: Fuck, I just want to run my knife all over the curves of your body

Unknown: Put two fingers in

You did as told, pushing two fingers into your opening, thrusting them in slowly. You didn’t even notice the distant flash of a camera recording you peeking out from behind your window.

You shut your eyes, biting your lip and arching your back, as you began to pick up the pace. The sound of your phone chiming managed to make you open your eyes, and snap out of your little fantasy, looking down at your phone.

Unknown: You look so fucking hot right now, I want to come in there and ruin you

(Y/N): Why don’t you?

Unknown: It’s tempting, but I need to do one thing first.

Unknown Number is calling…

You picked up, slowing your fingers. “Why’d you- why’d you stop?” He questioned between groans, his voice strained. So he was touching himself too.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to-”

“Keep on going. Don’t stop. Add a finger.” He instructed.

An image of Ghostface stroking himself popped into your mind, making you pick up the pace. A string of mewls and whimpers left your mouth as you went even faster, feeling yourself grow close.

“You sound- shit, so nice babe. Makes me want to- even more-”

“Fuck, I’m g-going to- ah” Your body froze up, feeling yourself clench around your fingers.

It seemed like he was close too, considering how much he was panting, low groans and grunts. There was a brief silence on the other line, and you wondered if he hung up on you. But then, he spoke. “I’m coming in.”

He ended the call and you felt your heart leap in excitement, calming down from your high, and preparing for him to come in. You looked from the window to the door, wondering where he’d be entering.

A few minutes went by, and he still hadn’t shown up. A part of you wondered if this was some sort of sick game to humiliate you. If he was just going to leave you all alone.

“Miss me?” A familiar voice whispered into your ear, making you jump.

“Jesus don’t scare me like that.” You muttered, turning to face him.

“Why so grumpy? Is it because I kept you waiting? So impatient, so needy. I love it.” He grasped your chin, tilting your head and making you look up at him. He ran a gloved finger over your lips, tracing your cupid’s bow.

You felt your body grow hot at the contact, your thighs clenching together. He noticed, moving his hand away to finally give you what you so desperately craved. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushed you down on the bed, straddling you.

Slowly, he ran his knife over your skin, tracing it from your throat, down to your collar bones, and to your chest. It seemed he was being merciful tonight, because you could barely feel the blade against your skin, only a light tickle.

Moving his weapon to the middle of your chest, Ghostface sliced open your brassiere, splitting it in half and revealing your breasts. Well, there went your good underwear.

He ran his finger over your nipple, watching it harden under his touch, pinching it softly. The killer studied your expressions closely, taking in every single detail. The way your lips parted slightly, the way your cheeks heated up, and the way your eyebrows knitted together. God, you were so adorable.

Ghostface shifted his attention to your panties, cutting them off on the side, and pulling them down to your ankles slowly. He moved his hand back up to your opening, running his finger up your wet slit, feeling how soaked it was.

“So wet, all for me? I must’ve really left you waiting. Guess I better get to it then, huh?” His voice was smug, low, and full of mischief. You knew he was playing with you.

He rutted against his hips against you, making you whimper slightly. You knew he wouldn’t do anything, until you said it. “Please, fuck me, Ghostface.”

“Danny.”

You felt your eyes widen at his words. “What?”

“Call me Danny.” In all the time that you had known him, you never got a name out of him. But he was telling you it now. Why? Why was he doing this?

You were too busy processing what just happened to notice the sound of his buckle clicking, and his knife dropping onto the floor, while he was now holding his phone instead. The flash of a camera burned into your eyes, making you look up at him and snap out of your thoughts.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, squinting at the light and covering your eyes with one hand trying to hide the glare.

“Makin a little movie.” He grabbed your hands with his free one, moving them from your face and pinning them above your head. “And you’re the star. Aren’t you excited?”

“I- shit-” Before you could even respond to what he was saying, you felt his cock press up against your soaked folds.

He moved his camera down to your breasts, watching your chest heave, before moving it back up to your face. “Now what’s the magic word? C’mon, you know what to say. You’ve been saying it all night.”

“Please, Danny.” You begged, bucking your hips up against his hardened member. “Please what?”

“Please just fuck me.” You rolled your head against the pillow. He was driving you crazy at this point with how much he was teasing you and making you beg.

Finally, he gave you what you had grown desperate for, entering you with a rough thrust. It was painful at first, the killer not showing any mercy, but you forced yourself to grow used to it.

You moaned out, the feeling of fulfillment overcoming your already sensitive hole. You arched your back, grabbing onto his forearm, digging your nails into his muscle under his robe.

Tears began to stream down your face as you babbled, incoherent words slipping from your lips. It was too good, and you couldn’t think of something, anything, to say to describe it. He was fucking you stupid.

He zoomed in on your tears, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Damn, baby. Is it really that good? Do you love getting fucked by my cock that much?”

You didn’t speak, not even sure if you could. He pinched your nipple, making you yelp. “Y-yes! Its- it’s so g-good.”

Danny moved his free hand to your clit, thrusting even deeper, until he hit just at the right spot. You cried out, clenching around him. Moaning out for him to please never stop, to keep going.

“Oh baby, you think I could stop? Not with the way you’re clenching around and calling out my name, begging for- shit.” He grunted, feeling your walls begin to massage him, you were getting close. And so was he.

He nestled his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder, pulling his mask up his face, and biting down, breaking your skin and drawing your blood, his movements growing even harsher. While you dug your nails into his back, reaching your orgasm, Danny not too far behind.

The half-masked killer wiped the blood from his lips, grinning down at you. “There, I marked you as mine. You’re my little slut, got it? Say it.”

You nodded, eyes still shut, your mouth open with only moans and gasps escaping. You forced yourself to speak, voice all hoarse and raw. “I’m your slut, Ghostface- Danny- whatever, I’m all yours.”

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck-” His thrusts grew sloppy, and he rubbed at your clit even harder, making you climax once again with him. He pulled out, releasing on your stomach, and ending the video.

He pressed a rough kiss to your lips, before readjusting his mask, cleaning himself off, and fixing his clothes up. All the while you laid there, nude, panting, and coming down from the intense high you just had. You felt another flash blind your eyes, and the sound of a camera clicking, knowing he just took another picture.

Moving aside your curtains and blinds, Ghostface unlocked your window, pulling it up and stepping through. “This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. See you soon.”

#dbd #dead by deadlight #dbd x reader #dbd killer #ghostface dbd #dbd ghostface #ghostface #ghostface x reader #dbd jed olsen #jed olsen #danny johnson dbd #dbd danny #danny johnson #smut tag

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

You don’t want to miss dessert - Rio (Good Girls)

Ok so let’s be honest, last night’s episode was just pure teasing, the hands, the smirks, the bedroom scene. God have mercy I’m about to bust 😂 The thought of Rio making you cum into his hands in his own family home while everyone is waiting outside is just 👅 Enjoy this one 😏

Warning : Smut

Word Count : 1.6k (Not proofread)

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

Being in business with Rio was definitely a challenge for you. You’ve had your arguments over the past 2 years, them not always ending well. You had wanted out after 8 months, but he wouldn’t let you do that. He had threatened you for you to come back to work with him. The problem with your relationship, was that both of you always wanted to be right and have the upper hand. He loved that you were daring and confident, but he often needed to remind you who was boss.

You could say your relationship was complicated. It was only business related, even though the both of you had slept together a couple of times before, not making it a recuring thing. Three times, you had slept together three times since you had met him, each time better than the other. You would be lying if you said you weren’t drawn and attracted to Rio. Hell, even his name made you feel puddy. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever hooked up with before. Maybe it was the fact that you never really met someone like him, which is normal cause Rio is unique.

People wouldn’t necessary imagine the both of you working and being together, but that’s why it made perfect sense. Neither your entourage nor the FBI would suspect you to be in business with a guy like him. By the look of it, you seem to live in two different worlds, but you were very much alike. You needed to be in control, just like him and you had a certain way to plan and do things, which matched his way to do business.

He thrusted you, and he had spoken to you about meeting important people, which you were nervous for. You didn’t want to imagine someone more dangerous and intimidating than him, but you tried to prepare yourself for the worse. You were supposed to meet later that day and he had texted you the address. Parts of you was always being skeptical about his next move, fearing something bad could happen to you, not that you had anything to hide.

Being on your way to meet him, you felt the palms your hands getting sweaty, wiping them off on the black dress you chose to wear. Just like Rio, dark colors were your go to, often wearing dresses and skirts to show your legs. You got out of the car, walking slowly towards the red door, knocking on it lightly.

“Hey mama” a deep throaty voice startled you, making you turn around to see your boss boarding a slight smirk on his face, eyeing you up and down.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer as he motioned for you to follow him through the backyard. You got nervous for a minute but once you passed the wooden door, you saw kids running around and the smell of grilled food making your mouth water calmed you down. He walked towards the table, putting his arms around an older lady’s shoulder, bringing her closer to him.

“This is my boss” he said, looking at her, then diverting his eyes towards yours quickly

“I’m just his grandmother” she said, chuckling lightly before looking back at you. “You must be (Y/N)”

“I am” you answered, nodding softly

“Well, both of you come take your seat, you arrived just in time for dinner” she said motioning her hands towards the table, where a few plates were already laid down. Rio pulled your chair as you sat down, mumbling a quick thank you, string at him as he took the seat next to you. You were getting slightly less nervous as all of you ate your delicious food while talking and laughing.

“So how do you know my uncle?” a 10-year-old kid asked you, taking a bite of his chicken.

“She’s just a work friend, bud” Rio answered for you

“What’s she do?” the kid asked again, looking at his uncle

“Um, she helps me out” he said looking at you “That right?” Rio smirked at you as you nodded

“That all?” the guy in front of him asked, stepping into the conversation, looking devilishly at the both of you. “Heard a lot about you (Y/N)” he continued as you felt Rio getting tense beside you.

“Um yeah, that’s all” you said slightly blushing, feeling Rio’s hand on your back, rubbing it slowly. He changed the subject, knowing his cousin was making you uncomfortable. You continued eating quietly as they all laughed and talked together. You could feel his hands on your back still, pushing back your chair before excusing yourself.

“I’m sorry, is there a bathroom I could use please?” You smiled slightly at Rio’s grandma, as she gave you direction. You made your way inside, finding the bathroom easily. You did what you had to do, and washed your hands looking at yourself in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss. You could hear the sound of their laughter from where you were, making you sight lightly.

You got out, making your way through the hallway, passing a bedroom, which seemed to be his grandmother’s. You stopped by the door, seeing some picture frames placed neatly on a bookshelf, making you walked closer into the room to look closely at them. You picked a picture of a young Rio graduating into your hands and it made you wonder what he studied. You didn’t picture him as a big school person, so you were surprised to say the least. You jumped slightly as Rio’s husky voice, interrupted you.

“What are you doing?” he said, leaning against the door frame, looking at you, deeply.

“I don’t know, I just got curious” you shrugged your shoulders, watching his every moves. He moved closer to you, making you hold your breath, nervous and aroused. He made you weak in the knees and you could hardly speak without getting flustered. Even thought you were a confident woman, his body close to yours always had that effect on you, and he knew it. You turned towards the bookcase again, feeling his firm chest pressing against your back, as he picked up a smaller picture frame, the both of you looking at it.

“You find anything interesting?” he asked, his mouth next to your ear, sending down shivers down your spine. He put the frame back, his arms brushing yours lightly, making you turn around to face him. His eyes burned into yours, waiting for your answer. You licked your lips, looking at your fumbling hands before meeting his dark eyes again

“I don’t know” you said, feeling bold you dropped both of your hands on his chest, sliding them down until they could rest on the waistband of his pants “You tell me” you stated, before unbuckling his belt.

He stopped you, grabbing your wrist softly, making you look at him a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He shook his head slightly, putting your hand down and dragging his towards your thigh. His finger danced on your soft skin, goosebumps rising onto your body. He lifted your leg slowly, resting it on his waist. His face now in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning over throat, making you close your eyes, appreciating the moment. You felt his long fingers trail up to the side of your emerald, green lace panties, before making his way to your dripping core, spreading your juices, letting out a throaty groan.

The sound of him only making you wetter, his finger making its way into your warm tight flesh. A quiet moan erupted from your mouth as you grabbed his shoulder firmly, bringing him even closer to you. The room was silent, except for the sounds of his digits pumping in and out of you quickly. Your breathing was getting heavier, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, trying to keep your moans to yourself. His thumb found his way to your clit, massaging it slowly, putting just enough pressure to make your body quiver.

He inserted another finger inside of your leaking fold, fastening his pace, making you clench around him. One of your hand traveled to his neck, digging your fingers into the back of it, as he let out a deep groan next to your ear.

“R-Rio” you mumbled quietly, clenching your eyes shut, feeling your climax approaching by the second.

“I know mama” he whispered “let it go” right when the words left his lips, you felt yourself relax into his embrace, as your orgasm took over you. He helped you ride it out, pumping his fingers slowly, before removing them from your inside. You faltered your dress as he moved towards the door.

“Hurry up, you don’t want to miss dessert” he said smirking before leaving you all flustered into his grandma’s bedroom. You waited a few minutes, before following behind him, joining the others around the table outside.

“Ahhh here she is. We wondered where you’ve been” Rio’s cousin exclaimed as you sat down. “Pie?” he handed you a plate, not waiting for your reply. You took it, placing it in front of you listening to the older lady speak. As you all finished your dessert, you saw Rio from the corner of your eyes, dig his finger into the whipped cream remaining on his plate, and popping them into his mouth sucking slowly on them. You could feel his eyes on you, and you could only imagine him smirking as his tongue lapped at his finger, the same fingers that were minutes ago buried into your tight pussy. Just the thought of him tasting the remaining of your hot fluid made you clench your thighs together, Rio not missing the sight of you getting flustered again.

“Mhh … I think this must be the best dessert I’ve ever tasted”

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

Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

#rio good girls #rio imagine #rio x reader #rio #good girls rio #manny montana #rio x you #rio smut #nbc good girls #good girls fanfic #gg 4x06 #gg spoilers #rio fanfic #manny montana imagine #good girls imagine

[chaos-burst]

one way or another (i’m gonna get you)

Dorian has a problem.

That problem is currently drunk off his ass and trying to balance one of Opal’s daggers on the tip of his nose. Of course he’s failing miserably, hitting himself in the eye with the blunt end twice thus far and maybe Dorian shouldn’t chuckle about it, but Dariax just keeps trying as Opal and Fearne edge him on.

“If you’re not careful you’ll stab your own eye out”, Orym says. He’s still nursing the same beer he started drinking an hour ago, probably to stay sober enough to stop any shenanigans that go too far.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, buddy. That already happened to me, like, three times, and I just healed it back together. No big deal.”

Dorian can see that Orym is at a loss for words.

“Dorian, do you think I can do it?”, Dariax calls over to him where he’s sitting, holding his lute and enjoying the warm evening breeze.

“Sure, Dariax. I’ll write a song about you if you do”, he says with an amused smile. Dorian tries to keep his smile from widening as Dariax beams at him and tries even harder.

All his life Dorian has been taught to be proper and well behaved—maybe that is why he feels drawn towards—well. Towards the group. The group that Dariax is also a part of and that Dorian definitely doesn’t feel drawn towards more than any of the others.

He starts moving his fingers mindlessly over the strings of his lute as Dariax stumbles backwards, falls over Opal’s outstretched legs and lands in her lap with the dagger clattering to the ground in front of them.

Dorian thinks about Dariax sitting on his lap, then he almost chokes on his own spit because so far Dariax hasn’t done anything even remotely appealing or attractive. He’s had shit on his beard, piss on his hands, he’s dirty and loud and so obnoxious.

But when he told Dorian that he’s the handsome one and that he’s just good at talking to people and whether Dorian wants some tips from him—Dorian was tempted. For a split second, he was thinking about Dariax offering to teach him how to flirt.

Because Dorian might be aware that he’s handsome, but he has exactly zero idea about how to flirt with people.

“Hey, Dorian! Do I still get a song?”, Dariax shouts, still half sitting in Opal’s lap.

“Sure, buddy. I’ll write you a song.”

“Cool! It’s a promise!”, Dariax says, thumbs up, a big grin on his handsome face.

There, Dorian can admit it.

Dariax is handsome. They’re all handsome. It’s really no big deal. Not at all.

Dorian tries not to think about what his parents would say about Dariax, because it’s completely irrelevant. It’s not like his parents will meet his friends, and especially not Dariax. Maybe he should go to bed and hope that come the next morning his circling thoughts will have stopped.

“Are you working on the song?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head, only to come face to face with Dariax who managed to get up from Opal’s lap and is now sitting right next to him, leaning way into Dorian’s personal space.

Dariax smells like ten different kinds of alcohol, leather and thankfully no bodily fluids, which is definitely an improvement. Dorian wishes that the fact that he’s seen this man with shit on his beard would dissuade his heart from beating a little faster every time Dariax grins at him.

Sadly his heart doesn’t care.

Neither does his stomach, which is currently doing all kinds of complicated gymnastics since Dariax invaded Dorian’s personal space.

“No. I don’t think I can concentrate in here while all that is going on”, Dorian says and gestures towards Opal who is now teaching Fearne how to do body shots.

“Aw, man. Can you play something? Something...hm. Something cool.”

“All my songs are cool, thank you very much!”

Dariax laughs.

“Yeah, okay, you’re not wrong there. You have a really beautiful voice, buddy. No wonder that goliath lady fell in love with you after like, three minutes!”

Dorian feels something that reminds him a lot of the feeling he gets when he’s falling or misses a step on some stairs. His heart starts doing an offensive little tumble and he clears his throat a little too loud as he leans out of Dariax’ space and clutches his lute as if his life depends on it.

“I don’t think I would know what to do if someone actually fell in love with me”, Dorian says with an embarrassingly shrill laugh and a second after the words have left his mouth he regrets them already.

“Aw, buddy, I told you—I can totally teach you a few tricks, you know? Just show you how to get real popular with the ladies. Or gents. Or people in general”, Dariax says and winks at him.

Dorian wishes he could turn into thin air. His cheeks feel very hot.

“I—uh. I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not like I really have the time—“

Dariax snorts and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on, Dorian. We’re just hanging out, right? If you wanna get laid, we have plenty of time for that. You should just relax a little more. Okay, so. What’s your type?”

Dorian stares at Dariax for almost thirty seconds before he clears his throat again.

“Uh. I—don’t. Well. Adventurous. Maybe—uh. Maybe brunettes?”

“Adventurous brunettes? That’s pretty vague, buddy. Just saying. Wait a second!”

Dariax leans closer again and puts his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Then he does a terrible shout-whisper into Dorian’s ear that shouldn’t give him goosebumps but, fuck, it definitely does.

“Are you into Orym?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head to stare at Dariax who looks as if he just found out an earth-shattering secret through some careful investigation.

“N—no! No, he’s not. I mean, Orym is—fine? I don’t, uh—what I meant to say is... I don’t really know what my type is”, he ends lamely.

Of course Dariax feels the need to put an arm around Dorian now.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get you laid in no time. You have a pretty face and voice and all that, pretty sure that’ll go easy peasy.”

“That’s really not—“

“Hey guys, what are you whispering about?”, Opal shouts.

“We’re trying to figure out what Dorian’s type is to get him laid!”, Dariax shouts back.

“No, that’s not—“

“Ohh! Interesting! You don’t have a type? Did you never have a relationship before? Wait—are you like, a virgin?”

Dorian abruptly gets up from his chair. He’s definitely not drunk enough for this.

“I’m going to bed”, he says and leaves the room in a hurry, ignoring the disappointed shouts of his new friends following him outside.

*

Dorian hopes that his friends have forgotten the whole thing about supposedly getting him laid and about how Dariax intends to teach him flirting. But unfortunately the universe decides to not do him this favor.

Suddenly, every remotely attractive person they pass invokes a whole litany of questions.

Opal, Fearne and Dariax want to know everything. Which height, body-type, eye color, temperament, and style of clothing does he like? Does he prefer any genders to others? On six different occasions, Dariax tries to wingman Dorian into asking random strangers on dates.

Dorian is so desperate that he considers just telling them that he actually has someone back home, just so they will leave him alone.

It wouldn’t be the first lie he told.

Dorian feels a pang of guilt for lying about his name to these people who keep fighting alongside him.

Orym, bless his soul, is the only person who doesn’t partake in these interrogations and at some point, after Opal had asked Dorian if he was more into “tits or asses” Orym had quietly stated that “he deserves his privacy, you guys”.

Dorian has no idea if he’s a “tits or asses” kinda guy.

But Dorian just can’t stop thinking about the way Dariax’ voice sounded when it lilted “Man, you have the prettiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen” the last time they were drunk.

It seems weirdly typical and ridiculous that Dorian has to have his first crush on the most chaotic man he ever met.

Dorian wishes he could forget about those damn words, just like everything that happened in their first week.

“You know”, Orym says to him two nights after that cursed conversation as they’re making their way further south towards Byroden, “if you told them to stop in earnest, I think they would respect that.”

The landscape is a carpet of green, sloping hills, rolling fields that lie bare now that winter is closing in around them. The sky is blue and cloudless and as they talk their breath puffs up in front of their faces and vanishes shortly after.

Dorian looks at Orym and then pointedly turns his gaze at Opal and Dariax, who started making a list of their findings regarding Dorian’s type.

“You sure?”, he says with one eyebrow raised.

Orym looks at least as pained as Dorian feels right now.

“I see your point. But they’re not—you know. Not bad people, I guess. I don’t think they want to hurt you.”

“Well, they’re not hurting me, they’re annoying me to death!”

Orym pats him on the back in a way that is so pitiful, Dorian can hardly take it.

“I wouldn’t usually encourage lying, but maybe you could just make up a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or—“

“What if I just tell them that you’re my type”, Dorian interrupts and Orym blinks at him.

“Uh—“

“No offense, you’re not. Not that you’re not handsome or anything, I just. Well—“

“It’s fine”, Orym says with a snort and shakes his head with a disbelieving smile. “You don’t have to fuss about it. You’re also very handsome but not my type.”

Dorian tries not to be offended after the last kick to his ego in Gilmore’s shop and clears his throat.

“Okay, so. What about it? Will you be my—I don’t know. My fake boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Orym, I’m desperate here!”

“I will not be swept up in all of that. I still think you should just try to talk to them.”

Dorian feels betrayed and huffs, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. It’s probably going to be fine, he thinks. That is, until Dariax walks up to him, grins up at him cheekily and bumps his elbow into Dorian’s side.

“So. Are you finally ready to admit it?”, Dariax asks.

There is a glint in his eyes that Dorian can’t quite read.

“Admit what?”, he asks, already dreading the answer.

“That you have the hots for Orym!”

Dorian stares down at Dariax, the man he, so, so very unfortunately has “the hots for” and sighs deeply.

“You caught me”, he says with a gravelly voice. “I have the hots for Orym.”

“I knew it!”, Dariax shouts, then catches himself and turns his voice into a whisper instead. “I fucking knew it!”

Dorian massages his temple.

Maybe becoming an adventurer was a terrible idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. He could make a name for himself somewhere else. The Menagerie coast is supposed to be lovely all year around.

“Okay, don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha. I’ll keep your secret, won’t even tell the girls at all. And you know what, because we’re such great friends I have a special offer just for you”, Dariax says and leans in even closer to Dorian, who has to lean down significantly.

“And what offer is that?”, Dorian asks with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. At least Orym knows that Dorian isn’t actually attracted to him, so, he thinks, this can’t possibly get any worse.

“I should totally be your fake boyfriend so you can make him jealous.”

Dorian stares at Dariax.

Dariax stares back with the proudest grin on his handsome face.

The universe is trying to punish him. For whatever reason, it must have decided to make Dorian the butt of a cosmic joke. That’s the only explanation for all of this.

“I don’t think that’s—“

“It’s perfect! Don’t worry, I have experience with this sort of stuff, just lemme handle this.”

Dariax winks at Dorian and then grabs his hand to intertwine their fingers.

“Hey guys”, he calls as he pulls Dorian along who follows helplessly, his heart stumbling in his chest as his consciousness zooms in on the feeling of Dariax’ hand in his, “guess what. I should’ve clocked it all along, but of course it makes perfect sense! Check it out!”

And as Orym, Opal and Fearne turn their heads, Dariax raises their intertwined fingers and beams at the others.

“Wait…”, Orym starts slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, “what…?”

“Too late, Orym. He’s my boyfriend now”, Dariax says and Dorian wishes that the wind would just pick him up and carry him away.

*

Dorian has to say something.

He can’t, under any circumstances, keep this up.

He is sitting—and gods, his heart is beating so terribly fast—on Dariax’ lap.

Dariax had insisted on it and now his muscular arms are wound around Dorian’s waist as if this is the most normal thing in the world. For someone who doesn’t actually have to breathe to survive, Dorian feels a little bit like he’s suffocating from the staccato inside his rib cage.

They made camp close to a rock formation that, according to Fearne, looks like a pig with wings. The night smells of snow, but Dorian feels hot despite the cold.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He knows it even less when Dariax’ hand finds one of his and just casually starts rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a thumb. Dorian can feel Orym’s eyes on them and sadly that edges Dariax on even more because he thinks his plan is working.

“You know”, Dariax says and sounds way too casual about it, “I can’t believe how lucky I got. Pretty sure you’re the most beautiful person I’ve been with so far, Dorian.”

“I—uh”, Dorian says, then somehow forgets how to speak. His cheeks feel incredibly hot even though he doesn’t sit remotely close to the fire.

Orym cocks his head and suddenly his eyes turn a little too wide for Dorian’s tastes.

Dorian doesn’t want anyone to understand anything about this disaster.

“Well, I would certainly love a boyfriend who tells me nice things like that”, Opal sighs dreamily. “Or—you know. Maybe a girlfriend. Who knows. I certainly don’t.”

She laughs a little too shrilly but Dorian doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it anymore because a tingling sensation is running through his body and crawling along the underside of his skin as Dariax’ fingers just keep on gently, way too gently, drawing nonsensical symbols and circles on Dorian’s hand.

“Well, I just know what’s good. I make a great boyfriend”, Dariax announces with a smug undertone to his voice. The sad thing is that Dorian can’t even disagree.

So far, Dariax has been nothing but—well. There is no other word for it. Gentle and accommodating. He also started flirting with Dorian and his flirting only ever got tasteless twice during the last twenty-four hours.

He has offered to carry stuff for Dorian, held his hand, given him way too many compliments for Dorian’s poor heart to handle, helped him climb over some rocks and purposefully took a hit for Dorian in combat earlier today while shouting “Not my boyfriend, you ash-hole!”.

If someone had told him that Dariax makes good boyfriend material, Dorian would have scoffed at them.

But now.

Well.

Now he’s in even deeper shit, because this doesn’t help his feelings at all. It does the exact opposite of helping.

Gods, Dorian wishes he could kiss him.

“Well, I am certainly—uh. Happy? For you two”, Orym says with a pointed look at Dorian. Dorian tries to tell Orym that this wasn’t his idea with his eyes alone, that this is the worst, that Dorian definitely needs saving, but he doesn’t think anything gets across because the moment that Orym says that and looks at Dorian, Dariax seems to decide that he can’t have Orym looking at Dorian like that.

Dorian makes an embarrassing screeching sound as he is dipped backwards on Dariax’ lap. There is a very handsome, dwarven face with glinting eyes right in front of his when he opens his eyes again.

“Just go along”, Dariax whispers and before Dorian can protest or even just try to catch up with what’s happening, there are dry, warm lips pressed against his mouth and Dariax is closing his eyes.

Dorian’s brain is blank for a few seconds, then it kicks into overdrive, much like his heart that seems eager to jump right out of his chest and into the campfire. Dorian can’t fault it, because he, too, would love to jump into the campfire, never to be seen again.

Dariax is holding him with one arm while his other hand is resting on Dorian’s cheeks where Dariax’ thumb starts rubbing circles again as he kisses Dorian.

Dorian wants to run away.

He wants to kiss back.

He wants this to be real.

Dariax doesn’t actually want to kiss him. He only does it because he’s pretending, there is nothing real about any of this, no matter how nice and exciting his warm lips feel against Dorian’s.

Dorian pushes him away, clambers up from his position, trying very hard not to fall as he stands up, and steps away from Dariax hastily.

“I—ah. I need to. Pee. Yes. Pee. I’ll be—uh. Later!”

And he walks as fast as he can without breaking into a run.

His lips are still burning after he stops walking without even seeing where he’s going. It’s dumb. All of this is so incredibly dumb.

Beautiful eyes, beautiful voice, beautiful person.

Dariax really has to stop saying these things.

It’s already enough that Dorian developed this stupid crush after such a short amount of time on the road. It’s stupid that it had to be Dariax of all people—couldn’t it have been someone reasonable? Like Orym?

Couldn’t it just have been no one? Or a nice, noble lady that he impressed with his songs and good looks?

No.

He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, his heart beating rapidly in his chest with no clue where he even is or what he’s doing. The trees around him are leafless and bare, stretching towards the dark sky like skeletal silhouettes. Dorian doesn't know what to do.

Dariax kissed him.

He had his first kiss with a complete and utter maniac of a person. His lips are still tingling and gods, he wants to kiss him again and again and again—

“Dorian! Doriaaan!”

Dorian turns around and wipes at his face that feels weirdly wet.

Gods, he hates everything and everyone right now.

Dariax comes to a halt in front of him, his breath coming quickly and holding his compass rose.

“Okay—wow. Your legs. Are so. Long. You’re so. Fucking fast”, Dariax huffs and puts his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

Dorian looks at him and can’t decide whether he wants to kick Dariax in the shin or just run away further.

“So, uh—sorry. I got a little carried away and I kinda—uh. It was brought to my attention that it wasn’t very cool of me to just kiss you without asking if that’s okay with you. So—uh. Really sorry about that, shoulda thought about that before I—uh. You know.”

Dariax scratches the back of his head as he looks down at Dorian’s left knee.

“It’s—well. Yeah, I suppose a little warning would have been nice. It’s—uh.”

Dorian stops and wipes at his face again and when he looks back up Dariax is studying him, his gaze intense and uncharacteristically serious.

“Wait—wait a second. Was that your first kiss?”

“No! I mean. Yes! Sort of! Maybe!”

Dariax gapes and Dorian wishes the earth could swallow him up whole.

“Oh fuck, buddy, man, that’s. I’m really sorry, I didn’t—damn. I really fucked that one up, huh?”

Dariax looks so earnestly mortified at what he’s done that Dorian can already feel how he’s forgiving him, how he finds it endearing, how his heart swells in his chest like the idiot that it is.

“It’s not such a big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just—uh. Maybe we should talk about all of this stuff before… you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally. I swear I’m usually not a creep or anything, it was just… you know. The heat of the moment, or something. So…”

Dariax is scratching the back of his head again and swallows before he shoots Dorian a lopsided grin.

“So. No kissing and stuff like that, huh? Just the hand-holding? Hey, maybe a hug or something?”

Dorian stares at him and he could swear that Dariax’ cheeks are a little redder than before, which, Dorian supposes, comes from his embarrassment about his earlier fuck-up.

As long as they’re doing this fake-boyfriend gig, Dorian could kiss Dariax whenever he wants. Because apparently Dariax doesn’t mind that one little bit. He might never get the chance again to kiss him if he says no now.

So Dorian does something incredibly stupid and impulsive and maybe it’s even a real ash-hole move. In this tiny moment in time he decides to be selfish.

“Kissing is fine. Uh—you know. You’re not that bad at it, I guess”, he says and laughs which sounds terribly false in his own ears but Dariax perks up and throws him a reckless grin that makes Dorian’s heart stumble in his chest.

“Ha! You just wait for it, I’ll kiss your brains out before you know it!”

*

Dorian might be addicted.

He knows that this is all a ruse based on a misunderstanding but gods, kissing Dariax is so good.

And Dariax somehow makes it seem as if he’s just as into it as Dorian is, because he keeps kissing him all the time. Of course, it never happens when they’re alone and only when Orym is in more or less close proximity but if Dorian isn’t careful he’ll start believing that they’re actually boyfriends sooner than later.

Dariax is so good at pretending.

He kisses Dorian as if he never wants to kiss anyone else. He holds Dorian’s face in his hands as if it’s something precious. He kisses Dorian breathless and at more than one point Dorian had to stop him because he was getting a little too into it and he’s afraid of overstepping any boundaries.

Dariax promised that he would kiss Dorian’s brains out and it’s absolutely working. On the seventh day on their journey south they get so caught up in making out that they don’t realize that the others have gone to find a camping place for the night.

“We should—uh. Probably follow them”, Dorian croaks and stares down at Dariax’ lips.

“Hmhm. Yeah. Probably a good idea”, Dariax mumbles. Then he kisses Dorian again.

Dorian gets lost in the sensation of tongues sliding against one another and the feeling of Dariax’ hand cupping his cheeks. Dorian slides his hands into Dariax’ hair and buries his fingers in there, something that provokes a sound from Dariax. A sound that gives Dorian goosebumps all over his arms.

He wants to hear it again. He wants to touch more. He wants, he wants, he wants—

Dariax pulls back, his eyes glassy, his breathing labored.

“I—uh. Ha. I got a little carried away. Sorry. What do you say about checking where the others went?”

“Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Let’s go.”

He steps away from Dariax and stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep Dariax from reaching for them. This is a complete and utter disaster.

Dorian knows that he should stop it.

He shouldn’t abuse Dariax’ trust like this and keep up his pretense when all that Dariax wants is to help Dorian make Orym jealous.

Which has, of course, not worked in the slightest, but Dariax insists that it’s just because Orym is such a rational and level-headed guy.

“We just need to wear him thin, you know.”

Dorian doesn’t know.

He feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore.

When they finally reach the campsite, Fearne has placed her head in Opal’s lap and seems to be napping as Opal carefully braids her long, green hair.

“You guys alright?”, Orym asks with his eyebrows raised. Dorian feels himself flush and clear his throat.

“More than alright”, Dariax answers and winks. The implication makes Dorian’s cheeks heat up even more.

He didn’t think that Orym’s eyebrows could climb even higher, but that’s exactly what happens as he regards the two of them.

“Dorian, can I talk to you for a second?”, Orym asks and gets up from the log he was sitting on. Dorian shoots Dariax a glance and he seems… off.

Dariax doesn’t return Dorian’s look, he just walks over to the fire, lets himself fall down next to Opal and asks, way too loudly to be necessary “So what’s for dinner?”.

But Dorian doesn’t have any time to think more about this, because Orym grabs his wrist and pulls him towards a group of trees, away from the campfire and away from Dariax whose eyes seem to bore themselves into the back of Dorian’s head as he follows Orym into the night.

“What are you doing?”

Dorian doesn’t have to ask what Orym means. He wrings his hands and stares at the ground.

“I—uh. I don’t really... I don’t really know?”

“So when you said adventurous and brunette, what you actually meant was short, stocky and a complete disaster?”

“I—um...”

Orym looks at him with raised eyebrows and despite the fact that Dorian is so much taller than him he suddenly feels very small.

“Well. Dariax kind of got it into his head that I’m into you. Which I’m not.”

“Yes, we established that.”

“Exactly. And. Well, he thought it would be a good idea to be fake boyfriends to make you jealous.”

Orym’s eyebrows rise even higher towards his hairline.

“But I’m not jealous. Because you and I are just friends.”

“I know, okay? It just kinda got out of hand?He’s so—I don’t know! I don’t know what to do!”

Orym sighs and rubs his temples.

“So. You’re actually into Dariax?”, he asks.

Dorian presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before he nods.

“And he doesn’t know. He thinks you’re into me?”

Dorian nods again.

“And now he’s waiting for me to get jealous and for us two to be boyfriends?”

Dorian shrugs helplessly.

“Isn’t that... I don’t know. It seems like lying to him.”

“What do you want me to do? Just tell him that I have the hots for him and then leave the country forever?”, Dorian hisses.

“Well, maybe he has the hots for you, too!”, Orym whispers back and Dorian can’t help but laugh. It sounds a little hysterical.

“Then why would he offer to help me to get with you?”

Orym stares at Dorian for a full thirty seconds. Then he sighs.

“I guess it’s a little hard to... fathom... what goes on in Dariax’ head.”

“That seems like an understatement.”

Orym scoffs and shakes his head with half a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for—that.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry. I guess to each their own.”

“So what’s your type then?”

“Uh—I don’t really have a type. I’m not into the whole relationship stuff. Or—uh. The sex stuff, for that matter.”

“Oh. Oh! I see. Well, that seems pretty convenient. Way less stressful than what I’m doing with my life.”

Orym smiles and shakes his head again.

“I’m not going to lie, when I’m watching you and Dariax or Opal and Fearne I am glad that I don’t have to deal with any of it”, Orym admits.

“Opal and Fearne? How do you mean?”, Dorian asks. His brain is still stuck on kissing Dariax without Orym even being in any close proximity. His whole brain capacity seems to be occupied by thinking about Dariax. It’s an absolute clusterfuck.

“Never mind. So, what do you intend to do? You can’t keep this up forever”, Orym says and pulls Dorian away from a trail of thoughts that was leading towards something explicit and utterly unbefitting of a talk with a good friend about feelings.

“I—uh. I’m still figuring it out. I’ll just. You know, I could just tell him that I’m not into you anymore and then he would probably stop”, Dorian says and ignores the uncomfortable tightness of his chest as he thinks about not being able to kiss Dariax anymore. Or hold his hand. Or being told that he’s beautiful.

He’s so fucked.

“I think you should just tell him, you know? We’re adventurers now, no one knows what might happen. If I learned anything from our Voice of the Tempest, it’s that you should do your best to live without any regrets, because time is a precious thing”, Orym says.

“A weird soup”, Dorian answers, his voice weak and his heart hurting. Orym snorts.

“Yes, sure. A weird, precious soup. Anyway. Think about it, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

*

Something is up with Dariax.

Dorian has no idea what it is, but there is definitely something wrong.

He’s quieter than usual, which is disconcerting. He’s also, very definitely, holding onto Dorian’s hand way tighter than before.

“Hey, is everything alright?”, Dorian asks him quietly as they’re getting ready for the night. The sky overhead is dark and full of clouds and the moon is barely visible.

“Yeah, sure. Stellar”, Dariax says but he’s not looking at Dorian.

“You don’t look stellar”, Dorian insists and puts his hand on Dariax’ shoulder. Dariax’ eyes flicker down to his hand and then up to his face. Dariax opens his mouth to answer, but Dorian doesn’t hear anything because there is a searing pain on his back and he slumps forward and crumples onto his knees.

His vision goes blurry from the pain and he can feel that there is something coursing through his body. It hurts.

“Dorian? Dorian!”

Lying down seems like a great idea. What if he dies now and he didn’t even tell Dariax that he’s not into Orym? What if his adventure ends here already? He doesn’t want to sink into the weird soup that is time already. He wants…

“Take your hands off my boyfriend, you fuckers!”

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Dorian, are you okay?”

He is definitely not okay and while he probably should have different priorities as he’s bleeding out in the grass, all he can think about is the fact that Dariax just called him his boyfriend.

“Dorian, are you okay?”, Dariax’ voice sounds muffled and far away.

“Heh. You’re really good at pretending”, he lulls as he’s turned onto his back to look up at Dariax’ face.

“What? Guys, I think he has a concussion or something!”

“Well, heal him!”

“I’m trying! Dorian, hey! Buddy, don’t pass out on me, okay?”

“Did you know that your eyes are really pretty?”, Dorian slurs and he wants to raise a hand to touch Dariax’ face that seems way too red all of a sudden, but he can’t move a muscle and as he feels Dariax’ warm healing magic flow into him, he passes out from the mind-numbing pain.

*

Dorian has never shared a bed with anyone. Neither in a platonic nor in a romantic or sexual way.

When he wakes up there is someone plastered to his side. The quiet snoring tells him that it must be Dariax.

“Are you okay, Dorian?”, Fearne’s soft voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to see her sit on his other side, her hand places closed to his shoulder as if to make sure that he’s within reach.

“Uh—ow. Yeah. What happened?”

Dorian tries to concentrate on his own body and on Fearne’s words, but he’s distracted by the feeling of Dariax sleeping so close to him. His arm is thrown over Dorian’s chest and his face is pressed into Dorian’s shoulder. Orym is nowhere to be seen.

“Those Nameless Ones seem to have a pretty far reach. They really want that spider crown.”

Dorian groans as he tries to move.

“They hit me with poison or something?”

“Yeah. Dariax fixed it. Then he insisted on carrying you back to the cart. Then he insisted to tuck you into bed. And then he just sort of flopped down next to you and stared at you really intensely until he passed out.”

Dorian tries to laugh but almost chokes on it as he imagines this short man trying to carry someone as tall as Dorian. His thoughts circle around the fact that Dariax cared for him, healed him, tucked him into bed.

“So. Ah—where are Orym and Opal?”, he asks to distract himself from the feeling of having Dariax pressed so close to him.

“They’re checking to see if we’ll be safe for the night. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Fearne smiles down at him and starts scratching Little Mister under the chin as she hums a melody that Dorian’s never heard before.

“Did you ever have a really dumb crush?”, he asks before he can stop himself. Fearne turns her head to look at him again and cocks her head.

“A crush that was dumb because it wasn’t mutual or a crush that was dumb because the person was dumb?”, she wants to know.

“Ah. Huh—I haven’t thought about it that way. I guess… how about we go with both?”

Fearne puts her index fingers to her lips and cocks her head from side to side as she thinks about it.

“Well, I don’t think crushes are dumb just because they aren’t mutual. And I also think that Opal is very intelligent in her own, special way.”

Dorian blinks.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“You have a crush on Opal?”

“Sure. I thought it was pretty obvious”, Fearne says and smiles dreamily.

“Uh—maybe. Now that you mention it, I think Orym clocked it.”

“She is just. You know. Very exciting and spontaneous and funny and creative and pretty.”

The way that Fearne just talks about her crush makes Dorian wonder why he isn’t able to just say it like this. That he likes Dariax because he’s funny and brave and adventurous and a complete idiot in a lovable kind of way.

“What do you like about Dariax?”, Fearne wants to know.

“Uh—well”, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. Dariax is still softly snoring into his shoulder. “I guess… I guess pretty much everything?”

“That’s so sweet! And that’s what he said too. You guys just fit so well”, Fearne says with an earnest smile.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said that you guys fit really well.”

“No. No, I meant before that.”

“Uh—well, when I asked him what he liked most about you, he also said that he likes everything about you. I thought it was really sweet, you know? There was a whole list of things, but he stopped midway through it and said ‘So basically, everything’.”

There was a whole list of things.

A list.

 “So basically, everything.”

“Dorian? Are you really okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Hm? Oh—yeah. I’m fine. Perfect. Peachy. Never better.”

He laughs nervously and glances over at Dariax as his insides dissolve into small, hyperactive butterflies. Maybe it’s not what he thinks. Maybe Dariax meant that he likes everything about Dorian as a friend.

“If you’re sure you’re okay I think I’ll stretch my legs a little bit. This cart is pretty small”, Fearne says and scoots towards the exit of the cart. Little Mister follows behind her and a moment later Dorian is alone with a snoring Dariax, whose hand has somehow managed to sneak under Dorian’s shirt.

What is he supposed to do now?

Wake Dariax up? Confess his feelings?

His heart beats so quickly that Dorian is almost afraid that it might just leap out of his rib cage. In the end he’s not brave enough to wake Dariax up and instead intertwines their fingers and turns his head to look at Dariax who has definitely drooled onto his shirt.

He knows that he’s completely fucked because he thinks that this is endearing.

Dorian raises his arm and gently cards his hand through Dariax’ hair.

Dariax makes a small sound in his sleep, something that sounds like a content sigh, and the butterflies in Dorian’s stomach start dancing happily.

“D’you really think my eyes are pretty?”, Dariax mumbles a second later and Dorian pulls his hand away hastily as Dariax’ eyes open.

“Um—well. Yeah. They’re… they have a very nice color”, Dorian croaks. Dariax pulls his hand out from under Dorian’s shirt and starts rubbing at his eyes.

“You okay again?”

“Yeah. Thank you for saving me. And carrying me to the cart. And—uh. Tucking me in.”

Dariax’ cheeks redden as he coughs slightly before sitting up.

“Well, you know. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”, Dariax says with half a laugh in his voice that doesn’t sound completely genuine.

Dorian swallows and bites his bottom lip as he tries to find the words. He’s usually not bad at talking, so why does this seem so endlessly hard?

“So—uh. I have something to confess”, he starts as his thoughts start spinning around in panicked circles. Dariax turns his head to look down at him.

“I know, I know”, he answers.

“Huh?”

“Well, I figured, you know. When Orym dragged you away I thought you guys probably had a talk?”

“We did, yeah”, Dorian says but he is endlessly confused about what that has to do with anything.

“See, I knew it. So you think it finally started working, huh? Told you, I’m really good at this kind of stuff.”

Dorian decides that he has to sit up for this. His head is spinning and his heart is racing and he is endlessly confused about what in the ever-loving hell is going on.

“Working? What are you talking about?”

“You know, the jealousy thing.”

Dorian stares at him.

Then it finally clicks.

“Dariax… I don’t want to be fake boyfriends anymore”, he says quietly before he can think of a better way to say it. Dariax’ expression twists and he looks away, his hand reaching for the back of his head to scratch at his scalp—a sign for nervousness, as Dorian knows by now.

“Yeah. Okay. I—uh. That’s—“

“I want to be your real boyfriend.”

Dariax blinks a few times. Then his face turns the deepest shade of red that Dorian has ever seen on him.

“You—what?”

“I don’t like Orym. I never have. Not like that. I—uh. I like you. And when—if—I kiss you again I don’t want it to be just pretend, I want to really kiss you. Because I—uh. I really like kissing you.”

Dariax is still staring at him, seemingly stunned. The hand at the back of his head has stopped moving and started to sink slowly back into Dariax’ lap.

“So…”, Dorian says and the nervous energy humming under his skin is almost unbearable, “can I? Can I… kiss you? For real?”

If Dariax doesn’t say anything soon Dorian might have to flee from the cart and actually leave the country. The suspense is torturous, his words hang heavy in the air between them. And then, faster than Dorian can react, Dariax lounges himself at Dorian and kisses him so passionately that Dorian can’t suppress the moan that escapes him.

Dariax pushes at him, shoves Dorian back down onto the bedroll, sinks one hand into Dorian’s long hair and cups his face with the other.

Dorian’s brain goes blank as he arches up against Dariax’ weight on top of him.

“So, is that a yes?”, he pants into the kiss.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes”, Dariax rasps and kisses him again. “Gods, you’re so pretty. I thought I was going to go insane.”

Dorian makes a very embarrassing noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Maybe he likes those compliments more than a normal person would.

“So you like me?”

“Are you kidding me? So fucking much.”

Dariax is kissing his whole face now and Dorian wraps his arms around him. He feels light as a feather and the butterflies in his stomach have gone completely off the rails.

“Are you guys decent?”, Opal shouts from outside the cart.

“No! Go away! I want to make out with my boyfriend!”, Dariax shouts back and Dorian laughs.

“Don’t leave any icky spots though!”, Opal says.

“Oh, come on”, Dorian hears Orym protest.

“That’s what Prestidigitation is for, Opal! Read a book about magic!”, Dariax announces loudly and Dorian has no time to protest this obscene exchange because Dariax is kissing him again and Orym seems to be dragging Opal away from the cart.

“So do you know what that means?”, Dorian mumbles against Dariax’ lips.

“Hm?”

“I don’t need any flirting lessons from you after all.”

#critfic #exandria unlimited #exu #exu fic #dorian storm #dariax zaveon #fanfiction #mi writes #critical role #doriax #text #screeching into the void #this is 7k words of chaotic fake dating ooops

[duskholland]

Warm | Tom Holland Smut

warnings ↠ nsfw, 18+ ! this is just some very loving c*ckwarming with sleepy boyfriend tom, ft unprotected sex and oral (fem receiving)

word count ↠ a wholesome 3k

a/n ↠ got inspired by the ig live yesterday and whipped up a lil something to satisfy the devil in me. let me know what you think!

The material of Tom’s hoodie is soft against your cheek, and as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, it feels as though the weight of the world is rolling from your shoulders. His hands are on your waist, tucked beneath the hem of your t-shirt and resting gently over the curves of your hips. As you hum against his shoulder, you feel him shift his fingers, tracing delicate, circular patterns over your skin. 

“Your hoodie is so soft,” you mumble against him, punctuating the words with a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Tom squeezes your sides, bringing his lips to the top of your head where he leaves a lingering kiss to your hairline. “Wish we could stay like this forever.”

One of his hands moves away from your waist, drifting up to cup the back of your head. As Tom’s nimble fingers rest over your hair, he uses his other arm to pull you closer. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, both of you tangled up in sweats and comfy clothes, and the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours makes you sigh contentedly. 

“We can stay like this all day?” Tom offers. He slowly strokes over the back of your head, the gesture full of a gentle tenderness you’d missed. He’s been so busy recently, with filming and press engagements, that it’s been a while since you’ve had time to exist like this. Two people, curled up together, wrapped up in dizzying love. “Missed you so much this week, darling.”

You smile against his neck and finally pull back so you can look at him properly. You’re resting over Tom’s thighs, straddling his green sweats comfortably, and your position gives you the perfect opportunity to get a lovely, long look at your boyfriend’s face. With his pink hood drawn up around his head, you can make out a few strands of his brown hair, long and a little shiny, and you find your fingers drawn towards them. You reach up, smiling at his tut of disapproval as you gently knock the hood down, revealing his bed of messy, chestnut curls.

“Missed you too,” you finally reply, carding a hand through his hair. With your other fingers, you reach out to cup his cheek, grinning as he presses his face into your palm. Tom’s got his eyes wide and flooded with gentle love, and it makes you melt. This man has you wrapped around his little finger. “Missed a lot of things about you, actually.”

“Yeah?” Tom’s lips quirk into a lazy smirk as he draws you a little nearer. He smells faintly of cologne. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know…” As you muse, you let your index finger wander down the bridge of his nose, tracing over the light freckles. “Missed hearing your lovely voice. It always sounds so raspy in the morning like this.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “And I missed your hugs. God, Tom, you give the best hugs.” As if to prove your point, Tom tightens his grip around you. “Missed your lips, too.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” He’s got that cheeky glint in his eyes, and you nod your head immediately. “I think they missed you too, love. Why don’t you pay them a visit?”

The snort that leaves your mouth is a loud burst of twisted sound, but it makes Tom’s smile grow wider. You wind both arms around his neck and shuffle closer, finally bridging the distance and nuzzling your mouth against his. 

Kissing Tom has to be one of your favourite things ever. The way your lips meld together, dancing in sync as he presses against you with eager force always makes your heart race, no matter how long you’ve been together. His lips are warm and gentle, and as they meet with yours in a lazy exploration of mutual enjoyment, you find yourself melting against him. His hands are back on your hips, and they roam the expanse of your naked back as his tongue flicks into your mouth, causing you to groan softly. When he drags his fingers up and discovers your lack of bra, he’s quick to shift his palms around to the front of your body, holding the curves of your breasts in each hand.

“I bloody love you,” he murmurs, speaking against your lips. The pads of his thumbs brush over your nipples and you gasp into his mouth, careening further into his touch. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, lovie.” 

You kiss him with a little more intensity, your heart fluttering in response to his sweet, sweet sentiment. It’s early - the both of you had only woken up a half-hour ago - so Tom’s voice is strained and raspy. The sound of his husky tones brings a thrill of excitement to the heat between your legs. 

As his tongue explores your mouth and your fingers tangle in his hair, you become aware of a building pressure pushing up against your sweats. You start to grind down against him, enjoying both the friction it provides to your clit and also the way the movement draws deep, desperate whines from Tom. 

“You wanna know a secret?” You ask him, pulling away to pant in his ear. When Tom hums, you kiss his earlobe. “Think I might’ve missed your cock, too.”

His chuckle rumbles into the air. “Is that so?” Tom’s hands slip away from your chest, and they anchor down your hips. You hum as he guides you, pushing you further against his crotch as your centres meet. You can feel the outline of his length straining up against you, and the sensation makes you grin. “I’ve missed being inside your tight little pussy.” He leaves a kiss just behind your ear, right over a patch of sensitive skin. “Maybe we should do something about that?”

You almost whine as you nod, eagerly reaching down to release the drawstrings of his sweats. In return, Tom pulls free your own, and there’s a moment of shuffling around as you sit up and carefully wriggle out of both your trousers and your panties, Tom bundling them up and folding them into a neat pile beside him. Once you’re settled, you reach beneath the waistband of Tom’s sweats and pull his full member free, all whilst his hot lips trail up and down the column of your neck. 

There’s no burning desperation to your movements as you slowly work one another up. Rather, it’s gentle. Soft caresses, tender lips, whispered words of praise. You’re kissing him as you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, and he’s swallowing your moans with his tongue when two of his fingers slip into your slick pussy and work you open. It’s loving and familiar as he crooks his fingertips and nudges up against your g-spot, stimulating your passage until you’re bucking down against him, your movements distracted as your cunt drips for him.

“Need you inside me,” you moan out, a slight pull to your voice. You whimper as Tom’s hot fingers slip out from inside you, and then gasp when he uses his wet fingertips to rub over your clit. The bud pulses and you almost lose it, but a panging in your cunt reminds you of your overwhelming desire to have him inside you. “Tom,” you whine, skimming your thumb over his weepy tip, “Stop teasing.”

Tom growls into your ear, but he reluctantly moves his fingers away from you. He meets your eyes as he very purposefully brings his hand to his mouth and makes a show of licking his digits clean, moaning softly as he does it. 

“Delicious,” he decides. When you throw him a light scowl, he grabs you by the hips and brings you nearer. “Now,” he says, dropping his voice. His hand joins yours on his cock, and together you guide his head through your slit. You let Tom do the hard work, whimpering quietly as he lines his tip with your entrance. “How about we take care of this little problem, eh?”

Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you slowly, slowly lower yourself over him, tossing your head back as you adjust to the stretch. Tom’s lips move over your neck, sucking a soft hickey to your skin, anchoring you down. The sensation of his member settling deep inside you after so long makes you grab fistfuls of his hoodie, your knuckles tightening around it as you gasp softly.

“Fuck,” you murmur, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You’re fully seated now, and you can feel every ridge and line of his cock pushed up against your walls, as if in high definition. Everything is amplified, and the longer you sit there wrapped up in his arms and with his lips now dusting over your temple, the closer to Tom you feel. “I love you,” you whimper, voice breathless.

Tom runs his hands over your back, soothing you with large circles of his palms. “Love you too, darling,” he mumbles. He shifts a little on the sofa, and you moan as the head of his cock brushes deeper. “Feel so warm ‘n snug around me.”

You feel yourself clench at his words, and make a very conscious decision to loosen up. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you pull yourself away from the crook of Tom’s neck, pouting a little as the soft fabric of his hoodie leaves your face.

“Do you want to stay like this for a little bit?” You ask, eyes skimming his beautiful face. Your heart fills with appreciation for the man as you pick up all the small details that make him so attractive to you: the worn curves of his nose, the splattering of sun-kissed freckles over his cheeks, the ruffled hairs of his eyebrow. Your thumb absently moves up to his eyebrow and you draw your touch across it, feeling the soft hairs with your finger and sighing as you admire him. 

“How long?”

You crane your neck back, glancing briefly at the paused TV. “‘Til the end of the show? Should be about ten minutes.” You move your hand into his hair, feeling the silky strands fall past your fingers. “Just wanna feel close to you.”

Tom presses his lips to the tip of your nose, drawing a loose giggle from you. “Alright,” he agrees. He drops his voice as he shifts his mouth back to your ear, hot breath flushing over your neck as he adds, quieter, “I’m going to wreck you afterwards, though.”

A shiver passes through you, and your hum mixes with the sounds of the TV as Tom immediately unpauses the programme. You can’t see the screen from where you’re sitting, but you turn down Tom’s offer to reposition. The show is the last thing on your mind, and you’re glad you’re not distracted by it. 

For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere. Hands on your sides, caressing you and drawing you closer. His lips softly passing over the top of your head. His length, plugging you up to the hilt. Each time one of you shifts, you release a quiet whimper as arcs of pleasure roll up your spine, and when you clench in response, Tom grunts. There’s something so easily private about it: no end goal but just to enjoy one another, and spend this quiet moment holed up in each other’s arms. 

You’ve never felt this loved before, and it brings a lump to your throat.

“You okay?” Tom asks, shifting a hand to hold the back of your head. You hum, tilting your face to the side so you can kiss the point behind his ear.

“Yeah. Just really love you.”

His eyes flicker down to meet yours, flooding with concern when he notes the tears spread thinly over your eyes. “You’re so precious,” he lilts, his accent twanging prominently. He brings you nearer, kissing your forehead in several spots. “I’m going to marry you one day.”

You kiss him, letting your hand travel up to rest against his cheek. “Good,” you whisper against him. There’s a dizzying moment where you just look at him, his eyes mirroring yours, flooded deep with gratitude that rocks you to your bones. You feel safe wrapped up in his arms, and as the music for the credits drifts through the air, you find yourself exhaling. “Show’s over.”

“Lay down for me, love.” 

You whimper when you feel his length slide from you, your cunt feeling cold and empty without him, but he kisses at your pout until it fades away. Tom follows you down onto the couch cushions, caging you in with an arm either side your head. After a moment, you feel his cock sliding through your slit again, pressing up against your clit in a way that makes you moan. 

“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit, pulling away from a deep kiss with a perplexed expression on your face. 

“Fucking lovely, isn’t it?” Tom gains a rather mischievous look on his face. “Actually…” 

He pulls away before you can grab him to stay, and Tom slips down between your legs with a cheeky smirk on his lips. 

“Tom,” you whine, scrunching your nose. “I want you.”

“In a minute.” He presses your knees apart and leaves a soft kiss to the inside of one of your thighs. “Patience, my darling girl.”

You try your best to look unimpressed, but it’s very difficult to maintain the rouse as he draws his tongue through your slit. You reach down to grip at his hair, pulling him closer as he trails his mouth all over you. He moans straight against your sopping folds, teasing your clit with his tongue as he slides two fingers back into you, exploring your wet heat eagerly.

“Tom,” you cry out, your back arching off the sofa. His free hand immediately goes to your side, pushing you back down and keeping you in place as his mouth explores you. Noises of your wet arousal fill the air as he sucks over your clit, teasing you, edging you until you’re whimpering. “C’mon, Tom, don’t wanna cum like this. Need to be full of you.”

When he pulls back, Tom runs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the shine of your slick and his spit combined. He cracks a smile when he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, pulling up until he’s hovering above you once more. One of his hands caresses your leg before loosely opening it up, and the other rests over your hair near your head. He kisses you softly.

“Are you ready?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you whimper, pressing down against him to prove your point. Your voice twists into a gasp as Tom slips into you, the movement easy and slick. Your fingers grip at the back of his hoodie as he rocks against you, your cunt squeezing around him as you take him wholly. “Shit.”

Tom nips at your necks, strands of his hair rubbing up against your hot skin. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs. He pulls out before fucking back into you with a deep, slow thrust. “Fuck, you’re such an angel.” He leaves another kiss to your neck as he gradually quickens his pace. “My angel, aren’t you?”

You pull him back up, meeting his mouth in response. As you kiss him, his hand on your thigh shifts up and intertwines with one of yours, your fingers tangling as the rest of your bodies do, too. You’re grateful for the contact - keeping you anchored together like an emotional tether, a constant reminder of your love. 

Everything about the moment feels so intimate, his pace slow but still fulfilling. Each time Tom thrusts his hips to meet yours, you feel him in you deep, nudging against those spots only he could reach. Each rut presses you one step closer to heaven, and your praises come out garbled, dissolving into his mouth as his lips caress you, tender and warm. 

Tom pulls away after minutes of deep kissing to stare at you, brown eyes full of warmth. “I’m so lucky,” he stammers out, voice strained. You widen your leg, granting him easier access, and both of you groan as the position lets him in deeper. You can feel that telltale warmth building in the pit of your stomach. “Love of my life, you are. You and your- fuck, your perfect little pussy.” His cheeks are red as he kisses your jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you for the rest of my life, love.”

His words ignite something inside you that goes much deeper than superficial pleasure, and you find yourself clinging to him, gripping his hand with renewed strength as your other twists down between your bodies. Your fingertips connect with your clit, and you glide them over the bud, moaning louder as you feel your orgasm jerk closer.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself saying, eyes trained on the spot between your legs where Tom’s cock meets with your cunt. “Wanna feel you fill me up.” 

His head finds the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pushing up against your skin as he grunts. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand as you gasp for breath. “I’m close.”

Tom peaks a few moments later, and the action of his guttural groans spilling into the air coupled with the way his cock pulses as he empties his load inside you makes you spasm over the edge too. You whimper as you orgasm, a throbbing warmth spreading across you as Tom kisses your neck over and over, his fingers gripping yours tightly as you enjoy the high together, basking in it. Your mouth hangs half-open as you vocalise your climax, your body on fire as he fucks you through it, the moment spanning a short infinity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, finally stilling. He stays nudged up inside you as he sits up, supporting his weight on his arms, your hands still joined. Tom kisses you passionately, and you feel him smile against your lips as you kiss him back. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You bring your free hand up to his head, pushing his hair out from his face as you cup his cheek, looking into his captivating brown eyes. You look at him, and you know that there’s no safer vessel for your heart. You know he’s the love of your life. 

“Love you too,” you say, pausing to kiss him between each word. By the end, both of you are smiling. “You know you’re still in me, yeah?”

Tom chuckles, nodding. “Yeah.” He kisses your nose. “You’re warm.”

-

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yeah you could say im soft for hoodie!tom...

masterlist linked in bio !

please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts :D askbox is always open; feel free to rb/comment (pls)

stay safe my lovely pals <3

#keyword tonight is: soft #can you tell i missed tom...? lmao #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland #my writing #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #smut

[stratiotis-nth]

Ever since Cas came back and turned human, it would seem he’s stopped giving a shit about literally everything. When Dean noticed this new aspect of Cas’ colorful personality, he had made himself paranoid that Cas would suddenly start flirting with him on the regular now that his big confession was out in the open.

So while Dean was scared shitless, he was confusingly disappointed when Cas didn’t do that at all.

No. The first thing the ex-angel did after surviving another encounter with death was start a Shotgun war with Sam.

And no, not the bang bang kinda shotgun.

“Shotgun!” Cas practically bellowed down the corridor as the three of them were getting ready to get dinner.

“That’s not fair, Cas! I’m in the bathroom!” Sam complained through the closed door. Cas ignored him completely as he strode past and ducked into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean, who had been desperately trying to stay out of this war, just gave Cas a sideways smile.

“Y’know, the rules are you can’t call shotgun until you actually see the car, Cas.” He told him, his lips tugging up in amusement and…just happiness that Cas was close.

“Until Sam demands to implement this rule, I will abuse his ignorance.” Cas replied, smiling softly. Once again, every time Cas won the passenger seat, Dean wanted to ask what was with his sudden obsession with it. It wasn’t like Cas hadn’t been stubborn enough to claim it before he became human. He wondered what changed, why Cas suddenly cared about seating arrangements. But, as he had been doing ever since they got Cas back (again), Dean bit his tongue. He didn’t want to overwhelm the newly human with the tsunami of questions he had.

Sam griped the entire way to the diner, grumbling about being squished even though Dean knew there was more than enough space. Cas sat next to Dean, watching the trees amble by with a serene, totally unaffected smile on his face. Pleased as a pickle. Dean was fighting his own internal battle between his burning questions and undying amusement at Sam’s plight.

At the diner, Cas sat next to Dean. That much was hardly anything new. The two just naturally gravitated towards each other, and after Dean caught himself drifting mindlessly towards Cas more times than he could count, he stopped giving him grief about personal space.

Cas’ thigh brushed up against his almost the entire meal. Dean pretended not to notice, but internally, he was melting into a puddle of bi panic.

In the parking lot, Sam was quick to call shotgun when Cas got distracted by their waitress catching up to him and giving him her phone number. Dean was too busy bristling and snapping at Cas to hurry up to even notice Sam was sitting next to him.

Cas sulked the entire ride home, the waitress’ number stuffed into one of his pockets. Dean tried not to think that maybe Cas was saving her number for another time.

On Saturday, it was Dean’s turn to go on a food run. Sam was busy working a ghoul case with Eileen, so when Cas wanted to come along there was no yelling match over the front. He ducked into the passenger seat and just about blinded Dean’s poor weak heart with a smile that crinkled his nose.

They fought over eggs for about twenty minutes in the diary aisle. Dean win by threatening to give Sam exclusive access to shotgun. Cas relented with a glower that could have smote demons if he still had his grace.

Eventually, Sam did implement the rule about only calling shotgun with the car in sight, and as the weeks went by and Dean’s silent journey is self realization unfolded, the war at escalated. Now, neither of them could call shotgun without all three of them being in sights of the car. It had gotten bad enough that Sam and Cas waited impatiently for Dean in the garage, staring expectantly for him to round the corner so they could have their yelling match.

Cas nearly blew Dean’s eardrums out, bellowing “SHOTGUN!” loud enough to drown out Sam. He angrily opened his mouth to argue when his phone started ringing.

“It’s Eileen.” He said, his back snapping straight and immediately answering the video call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you give me a ride?” Dean could hear Eileen’s voice over the tinny speakers. “My car broke down and the nearest shop is two hours away.”

“Where are you?”

“An hour away from you? It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Dean saw Sam’s face soften, the tension of worry falling away. He butted in, sticking his face in view of the camera so Eileen could read his lips.

“Just tow it here. I can patch your ride.” He said. “Sam can take the tow truck.”

“Are you sure?” Eileen asked.

“Course. ‘Sides, those guys won’t give you a fair price anyway.” Dean flapped his hand dismissively.

“Thanks, Dean.” Eileen beamed, and oh, Dean knew that smile. Mischievous and damnit, she had planned this from the start, hadn’t she? Just to get a free repair out of him. Dean squinted suspiciously at her, and Eileen just wiggled her eyebrows.

“Cas and I can pick up the curse box and meet you two back here in a few hours.” Dean said. He saw Cas immediately brighten, having secured the passenger seat.

Cas was looking particularly triumphant as they drove, his knees rocking back and forth in a content, mindless sort of way. Finally, Dean couldn’t hold back the question anymore.

He had done his work accepting the fact that he wasn’t as straight as he thought, that it wasn’t very heterosexual to stare at Cas’ lips or pop an awkward boner seeing him all cleaned up after Purgatory, or completely shutting down every time he died or getting all prickly when waitresses give him her phone number. He was gay for Cas, and he had just gotten around to accepting this. Cas said he loved him, right? so Dean shouldn’t be afraid or rejection or anything. Yeah, no he was terrified.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He turned to him with that soft smile that Dean wanted all to himself.

“I gotta ask, man,” Dean chuckled a little awkwardly and kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Why are you so determined about sitting shotgun? You’ve never been before.”

“Ah.” Cas hummed, turning back to the road too. “I suppose now I have the freedom to pursue the things I want. Chuck is gone and my deal with the Empty is null in void. I have time to…focus my attentions on other things.”

“The things you want? What, you got a better view up here or something?”

“Well yes, the windshield does allow more viewing space.” Cas agreed. “But it’s not my main goal in doing all this.”

“Then…what is?”

“Dean.” Cas said in that ever patient, you’re-being-dumb-about-this voice. “I enjoy being up here because it allows me to be closer to you. You are the view I most admire, Dean. I’m always so helplessly drawn to you.”

Dean’s mouth had gone a little dry and his grip on the wheel was suddenly sweaty. The silence that fell was deafening. Cas didn’t even look concerned. He just sat there waiting the road as if he hadn’t just said something so…so…soft to Dean.

Helplessly drawn. Like Cas couldn’t bear being away from him. Like Dean was this perfect, magnetic thing that Cas was enchanted by, something worth having around.

With a jerk of the wheel, Dean was pulling over on the side of the empty highway in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He threw Baby into park before twisting around and staring at Cas.

He didn’t even look vaguely concerned, the fucker. He just gave Dean a patient look.

Dean opened his mouth, and closed it. Did it again, ready to tell Cas everything. Snapped his jaw shut.

Cas watched in cool amusement. Dean felt his cheeks get hot.

“Screw this.” He grumbled to himself, before lunging across the bench, grabbing Cas’ face with both hands, and kissing him square on the lips.

He felt Cas freeze for a moment, probably in total shock, before he started moving.

Dean nearly choked on a gasp as the chapped, warm lips started pushing and devouring, Cas was suddenly the one taking charge, shoving Dean back against his window as he clambered across the seats to get on top of him.

Twelve years of pent up emotions came crashing out in a sudden burst of unstoppable passion. And as soon as it started, it seemed to have stopped. They both were panting, Dean’s jeans were tight and his entire body screamed to have Cas against him again. But Cas had made to move away, putting space between him as he looked at Dean with wide eyes.

He didn’t get very far. Dean grabbed ahold of his jacket lapels and held on tight with an iron grip, keeping Cas hovering inches above him, basically sharing air.

“Wanna hear a secret?” He whispered between heavy breathes. Cas just blinked at him. “I’ve always rooted for you getting shotgun.”

Cas’ kiss swollen lips split into a dazzling smile, and he rewarded Dean with another intense make out session. When they pulled away, Dean found the words spilling out of his mouth.

“I love you too, Cas. You can have me. God, you have had me, for years you have. Can’t believe it took me so long, I’m sorry I made you think you couldn’t have me, I’m sorry it took me so long—“

Cas shut him up with another kiss, and Dean’s ramble faded into a helpless whimper that too was swallowed up by Cas.

“Does this mean I get exclusive shotgun privileges?” Cas asked a few hours later than they finally took the curse box off the poor shopkeeper’s hands. They had arrived nearly an hour late, not that Dean (or his dick for that matter) particularly cared.

“Honestly? Play it up to Sam and he might let you get away with it for a while.” Dean chuckled. Without even thinking too hard about it, his free hand slithered over the bench, grabbing Cas’ and entwining their fingers. Something so small and simple, yet made Dean light up like a sun.

If Cas didn’t manage to convince Sam, Dean sure as hell would.

#supernatural #spn cast #dean winchester #spn #destiel #cas #castiel #casdean #dean is bi #jensen ackles #and fluffier #destiel fluff #destiel comfort #destiel confession #spn fanfiction #spn ficlet #destiel fanfic #fanfic #ficlet #sam winchester #will be extending this into a semi long fic on AO3