#been holding onto this one for a bit! finished it more than a month ago lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xo-cori · 7 months

Text

it’s all a game to me anyway

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: pining after athletes is never a good idea. that is, unless you’re good at getting your way.

warnings: smut (MDNI), hockey!abby, reader is lowkey a womanizer, choking, the knee thing™, thigh riding, power dynamic switcharoo, no aftercare but in a hot way

a/n: inspired by “music to watch boys to” by mother lana 🙏 if you’re a buff girl named abby anderson who plays hockey pls hit my line immediately. also read pt 2 here!!

“How’d you get in here?”

In any other scenario, her tone would’ve offended you. At least, you would’ve pretended it did. But this is a very special case; you’ve got Abby exactly where you want her, only because you know she feels the same.

It all started a few months ago during your first week of college. You’d developed a reputation around the school pretty quickly– you tend to pick girls up for a night just to leave them in the dust. It’s fulfilling, until it isn’t. Until you move onto the next, getting better and better at pretending you’d fallen head over heels just to take someone to bed. Now, just starting your second semester, you’d climbed up the social hierarchy pretty quickly, and you’ve been eyeing somebody in specific. After playing your tricks with half of her teammates, of course.

You stand in the empty locker room with her as she packs her bag. You can tell she’s fresh out of the shower and had just finished getting changed. You wonder if you could’ve sped this up by walking in a bit earlier.

“I snuck in,” you shrug. “Just noticed you never came out with your team– I wanted to say how sorry I am that you guys lost. You’re the captain, right? You could spread the message.”

Her eyes meet yours and she’s obviously unimpressed. “I could, but I won’t.” She quips.

You tilt your head. “How come?”

“Well, you’re… acquainted with most of them. Tell them yourself.” She says, setting her bag down on one of the benches so that she can face you. Her dirty blonde hair is still damp and, now that you think about it, this is the first time you’ve seen it out of that signature braid she always wears– and you’ve seen a lot of her.

It’s become a habit to show up to every game, every practice, intently watching her command her team and skate around on that ice like her life depends on it. You don’t know how hockey works. You honestly couldn’t care less, but you have more than enough reason to watch it, and you have your music to keep you company.

“Someone’s jealous.” You observe, taking a long step towards her.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t make any attempt to create some distance. She just raises her eyebrows at you. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You think I’m jealous?”

“Sounds like it.” You wrestle with a smile, not wanting to blow your one chance at this by pissing her off too much.

“Oh, really? And what’s there to be jealous of?” Abby questions, even if she has a pretty good idea what the answer will be.

“The winning team,” you take another step, “and… y’know, the fact that half of your team has had a turn with me. Not you, though. Not yet.”

The way her jaw tenses up makes your chest swell with pride. “Not yet?” She repeats. “You think I want a turn?”

“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. You like it when I watch you all practice, because you know I’m just watching you.” You tell her.

Abby knows there’s no way to argue with that, no matter how much she’d like to. She looks for you in the bleachers and, when she finds you, subconsciously makes a point of holding that eye contact. You always have both of your headphones in. You’re always looking her up and down, licking your lips like she’s nothing but a freshly prepared meal to you. Honestly, it makes her confidence skyrocket. She’s secure in her capabilities, but a little boost never hurt.

“Athletes like being watched. That’s kinda the whole point,” she replies, “doesn’t make you special.”

“But I am special.” Another step forward. At this point, you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. “I’ve gotta be. You know what I want, but you’ve never told your coach to make me fuck off.”

That’s true, too, Abby thinks. She’d never admit it, though. “Maybe I should.” She says.

“You won’t.” You grin. “Not until you get your turn, at least.”

She’s the one to take the next step forward. You can feel her breath fan across your face. She doesn’t trust her voice to speak; her hard exterior slowly crumbling under the heat of your gaze.

So, she grabs you by the throat and leans down to catch your lips between hers.

You gasp, shocked that she’d be the one to take the initiative. You weren’t even sure if she liked girls, and here she was, already shoving her tongue past your lips, which you happily accepted. Her chest presses to yours as she backs you up against one of the lockers. You opt to ignore how hard your head hit the metal, given how preoccupied you are by the way she grabs both of your wrists in her other hand and holds them above your head.

Then, she pulls back to look at you. You aren’t the one in control and you know it. Oddly enough, you kind of like it.

“Is this what you wanted?” Abby rasps, shoving her knee between your thighs and pressing up right where you needed her, causing you to let out a pleased sigh.

“Yeah,” you nod, “just didn’t think you’d be so easy.”

She finds it ironic that you of all people would call her easy, but she decides not to linger on it. Instead, she slightly tightens her grip around your throat, reveling in the way she only needs one hand to make your breath stutter. The lack of air gives you a head-rush and you find yourself grinding down onto her thigh. Normally, you wouldn’t let yourself be reduced to a submissive mess, but you’d been pining after her for months. You’d do whatever it takes to get her head between your legs.

Abby kisses you once more, totally ignoring the way your hands struggle against her grip only because you kiss her back with a fervor she’s never felt.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, “fucking yourself on my leg like a dog.”

You whine at the lack of her lips on yours. “I want you so bad, Abby– been waiting for this forever.” You admit, which is just another ego boost for her.

She lets go of your wrists and pulls your arms to wrap around her shoulders. “Go ahead, then. Make yourself cum like this.”

You’re taken aback by the demand. Is that even possible? Hell, just to impress her, you’ll make it possible.

You slowly get yourself into a rhythm, rolling your hips into hers, thighs trembling as you hold yourself up simply by her shoulders. Her muscles flex beneath your hands and it only makes you moan louder. Your head falls back against the locker once more, giving Abby an opening to dive into your neck. She kisses, licks, bites any skin available to her, leaving little marks and bruises in her path. Something for her to gawk at later when you show up to practice (because she knows you will). Her hands hold you by your waist, fingertips digging into your flesh so hard that it hurts.

It only takes another two minutes until you feel your climax boiling somewhere deep inside of you. Your legs are just barely working anymore and your hips move with an untamed rhythm, shamelessly seeking any pleasure you can get. “I’m close,” you whimper, “please, please let me–”

Before you can finish your plea, she’s grabbing onto your hips and holding you still. You groan in frustration, balling your hands into fists and whacking them against her chest. “You fucking bitch!” You whine, only made angrier by the shit-eating grin on her face (plus the way she isn’t phased at all by your punches).

“Sorry,” Abby says, moving in so close to your face that your noses are nearly touching, “just needed to vent all this frustration. You know, since I lost the big game and all.”

She presses another kiss to your lips, and you reach up to grab hold of her hair, trying to deepen it as much as possible. She doesn’t struggle at all to pull away, though. You’ve never loved and hated someone’s muscles so much.

“Let me make it better.” You breathe, trying to move one of your hands down between her legs but she quickly grabs it to restrain you. “Please, I’ll– I promise, I’ll make you forget about that stupid game.”

“That’s not a very tempting offer,” Abby sighs dramatically just to get a rise out of you, “don’t wanna be sore for practice tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose in thought. Is that an invitation? It has to be. She knows you’ll be there regardless. You stare deep into her eyes with a fury, but this only seems to amuse her.

She lets go of your hips and steps away from you. “See you then.”

You remain pressed up against the locker, lips kiss-bitten and legs shaky. You don’t even want to think about what your neck looks like. Abby grabs her bag from the bench and doesn’t even spare you another glance before walking out of the same door you came in through.

Fuck this, you think. Two can play at that game.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson smut

1K notes · View notes

littlejuicebox · 2 months

Note

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

-----

“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

446 notes · View notes

suniix · 9 months

Text

one bed | (botw) link x reader

synopsis | you and link stop by an inn to rest, but there’s one small problem

word count | 1.3k

note | thought about it too hard so i wrote a fic about it (based on this little comic! pls look at it it’s so cute)

As the moon rose, the world beyond your hotel window fell into a peaceful slumber. The faint sound of crickets could be heard singing their calming melody. The peaceful night ambiance would’ve been enough to put you to sleep had it not been for your frantic beating heart.

In front of you lies your traveling companion, Link, whose back was practically against the wall, arms wrapped around himself as if afraid to accidentally touch you.

The silence in the room was deafening, neither of you knew what to say in this situation. After sleeping on the hard ground for weeks the two of you had agreed to spend the night at The Great Ton Pu Inn. The rain that quickly followed your decision only fueled your excitement for a comfy bed as the two of you rushed up the hill leading to Hateno Village. What neither of you expected was for every room to be booked, every room but one with a single bed.

Despite both of you being tired from traveling, neither of you could fall asleep because of the awkward tension that hung in the air. Ignoring it was proving to be impossible, someone had to say something, but you were hesitant to break the silence for fear of making things awkward (as if they weren’t already). You had been traveling with Link for weeks, months even! The two of you have shared several nights close together under the comfort of the stars, what makes now so different?

Maybe it was the smirk the front desk lady had given you both after handing you your key, maybe it was because despite how much you prayed for a room with two beds to miraculously become available you were secretly happy to share a bed with the Hylian boy, or maybe it was because despite you looking everywhere but him you could feel his eyes on you.

Just say something, anything!

You clear your throat, shuffling nervously under the blanket. “Um.. Rupee for your thoughts?” You asked in a hushed voice, an awkward smile making its way onto your face.

Link blinked rapidly in response, likely surprised by your sudden question. He continued to stare at you in silence, now tense as his cheeks turned a bright red.

Thinking you made him uncomfortable you quickly rise out of the bed. “Sorry! You know what maybe I should just sleep on the couch—”

Before you had the chance to remove the blanket from your body Link quickly sat up in bed and reached out to grab your wrist, shaking his head furiously. You stop when he does, slightly surprised to see how fast he had reacted when he looked so tired earlier. Your eyes fall on his hand which, despite the quick reaction, holds your wrist just tight enough to keep you from leaving but loose enough for you to pull away if you so wished. Realizing what he did he slowly pulls away. You immediately miss the warmth.

He looks down, blush remaining on his cheeks as he nervously fiddles with his fingers. “Don’t go, I..” he pauses, unsure if he should finish his thought. He looked up to see you staring at him patiently, waiting for him to finish. That was one thing he loved about you; you were always so patient with him. Although he was more talkative than he was 100 years ago he often found himself struggling to express what he wanted, likely an unconscious habit that stayed with him through his century-long sleep. Despite this you never hurried or pressured him into talking, allowing him to do it at his own pace. Taking a deep breath he continued. “.. I like being close to you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth you felt your cheeks burn. Did you hear him right or was it just a hallucination caused by the late hour of the night? You thought about pinching yourself, but the way he nervously played with his fingers (a habit you found adorable) and the way the ends of his hair curled up just a bit revealing a small scar on his shoulder made it too real to be a dream.

After a few moments of silence Link looked up, seeing your shocked expression. He quickly backtracked, thinking he made you uncomfortable with what he said. “Unless you don’t! That’s fine!—”

“I do!”

Link freezes upon hearing your response. You awkwardly clear your throat. “I-I mean, I also like being close to you..” you nearly whisper, feeling your ears burn with the embarrassment of blurting it out earlier.

Then the room went silent. Your heart was frantically beating against your chest; you hoped Link couldn’t hear it.

Your fear was proven false (unbeknownst to you) as Link was currently lost in his own mind. Link had become so accustomed to seeing you in that golden campfire glow that the current sight of you left him breathless. He thought you looked even more captivating in the moonlight.

He slowly nodded his head, eyes refusing to leave your form. “Ok.” He responded in a daze. It was the only thing Link could think to say as his mind was still elsewhere.

“We should probably sleep now..” You looked past Link and out the window, seeing the moon high in the clear sky. “It’s getting late.”

Link hummed, snapping out of the trance he was in and nodding his head in agreement. You settled back under the blanket and he followed your actions. Despite your earlier conversation, there was still a good chunk of space between the two of you on the small bed.

Wanting him to come closer, you begin to think of a way to convince him. “You know, it’s kind of cold in here.” You whispered (a small lie, it was the middle of summer), but you knew Link heard you when he looked back at you. Deciding to take a chance you scoot closer to him and you hear his breath hitch. “So I wouldn’t mind if.. you came closer.”

Hesitantly, Link listened and with a smile scooted just a little bit closer. You breathed out a sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding, moving closer to him again. Beneath the blanket, your hand slowly moved to reach his. As your fingers slowly grazed his he flinched. You were about to pull away before he intertwined his hand with yours. There’s that familiar warmth.

He pulled your hand close to his chest, gently tugging you closer. You complied, wordlessly moving closer to him once again. The distance between your bodies was minimal now; you were so close you could see the faintest freckles gracing his cheeks.

“Are you still cold?” He asked in a low whisper. You nodded your head (another lie, you were already beginning to feel sweaty). You couldn’t help it, now that you’ve experienced what it’s like to be close to him you crave more. Being greedy just this once wouldn’t hurt.

Link lets go of your hand, wrapping his arms around you to bring you against his chest. Your eyes widen at the sudden action, but you don’t pull away.

“Better?”

You nodded, slowly wrapping your arms around him in case he flinched away. When he didn’t you fully wrapped your arms around his torso and snuggled into him, a painfully large grin stretching across your face when he did the same. Your palms were sweaty as they tightly gripped his shirt. He smelled earthy, like damp dirt with a hint of smoke. You sighed in contentment, not caring that the two of you would likely wake up sweaty tomorrow. You didn’t release your grip and neither did he.

You silently thanked Hylia for not answering your prayer earlier before falling into a deep sleep.

thank you for reading till the end! :D

masterlist

#link x reader #link x y/n #link x you #botw link x reader #botw x reader #loz x reader #link imagine #link fluff #botw #breath of the wild #[📝 sunni writes]

835 notes · View notes

plaguechyld · 9 months

Note

Just imagine: It's 1869, you and your best friend, Kibutsuji Ubuyashiki Kagaya wanted to know more about his ancestor, Kibutsuji Ubuyashiki Muzan, the man was just 19 when he was murdered in his own office. No one knows how and when he exactly died, but it couldn't be longer than a month after his 19th birthday. You and your friend were walking through the halls, it was the middle of the night, Kagaya held a candle for light. As you and Kagaya walk through the dark halls, you notice something different about Muzan's portrait, his normally dark eyes glow in the night, the glow was a bright purple. You couldn't help bit feel a wind bries against your face. You and Kagaya looked at each other before going to the kitchen. You gasp at the sight, Kagaya looked at you confused. "What's wro...?" before he could continue his question, his eyes widen. He saw his ancestor, Kibutsuji Ubuyashiki Muzan, or well, his ghost. His back was faced towards you two, his hair reached his oretty waist, and you couldn't help but blush softly. He turned around, showing his ethereal face, his beautiful soft purple eyes staring towards you two. He slowly walked closer, his heeled shoes clacking on the wooden floor, his long black hair sculpting his face so beautifuly. He spoke in the same tone as Kagaya. "Who are you?" he asked while leaning closer towards your face. You blushed as the man wrapped his arms around your neck, a smirk on his pale face as he looked at Kagaya, who was already backing away. He didn't wish to see his ancestor and best friend potentially having sex in front of him. "Good luck!" he shouted at you before running away, not wishing to be traumatized.

Oh god you are FEEDING me, mootie. But yes this is such a cool idea. I hope you don’t mind me finishing the sex scene lol

Contains: Bottom!Muzan, Top!Reader, AMAB reader, Ghost?Muzan, Some sort of AU, monster fucking, belly bulge, Physical communication, Non verbal consent (there’s still consent), Muzan being fucked in a fancy stone corridor by his descendant’s best friend.

Muzan wrapping his arms around your neck and bringing his cold and lifeless body closer to your own as Kagaya runs from the scene. Your hands find the ghost's waist, surprised that you can even hold onto him. His smirk would widen as his blood red eyes narrow in a sultry look. Your hands eventually stroke his slim waist and eliciting a soft groan from the black haired man's lips. He leaned his head into your neck, his cold breath hitting your neck. You weren't entirely sure if it was even his breath or some supernatural ability he had. He pressed the front of his body against yours and looked at you with a side glance. There was an undeniable neediness in his gaze that you easily picked up on. "Please.." Muzan mumbled into the crook of your neck, his legs shifting slightly in anticipation of your touch. A smile grew on your face as you pressed the spirit against the cold wall of the corridor, making his cheek press against the stone. His palms pressed against the smooth surface and he let out a little gasp when he felt your warm lips on the back of his neck. It had been so long since he had felt any type of warmth, having died centuries ago. He arched his back so that his stomach pressed against the wall as well. He tried to look back at you but because of his position he could barely see you. His body hitched when he felt your hand rub one of his hips, undoing his pants and slipping them down. He let out a soft groan when he felt you rubbing his hardening cock, his hips buck into the warmth instinctively and search for more of the feeling. His legs shake from the feeling of you removing his underwear and palming his cock bare. Your hand curls around the base and slowly pumps it, ripping sweet moans from the ghost's lips. His back arched further and he pawed at the stone wall helplessly. He swallowed thickly as you sped up the pace of your actions, his legs shaking more and his moans growing louder. You merely smile at how you've been able to reduce your best friend's ancestor into a whimpering mess with only a few gentle touches. Once again, the pace of your hand movements speed up, leaving Muzan aching for more, for something deeper. He let out an impatient whine, trying to tell you to speed up. He desperately wanted you deep inside him and he wanted to feel the sweet release he had been robbed of for so long. He blushes when he hears you let out a quiet chuckle at his antics.

However, you do not keep him waiting for long as you unbuckle your belt and allow your pants to pool at your feet. You tap two of your fingers against Muzan’s lips and he wordlessly opens his mouth so they can enter. He sucks on the digits, coating them with saliva quickly. He lets out little groans around your fingers when your free hand finds his hip. Your hand gives little squeezes all along the exposed skin of Muzan’s hip, eliciting a new sound for each action. Soon enough you remove your fingers from his mouth and move them down to his hole. You insert one and then another soon after. His eyes roll back from the feeling of being stretched for the first time in centuries. You work your fingers in deeper while his body welcomes the warmth, clamping down every time your move deeper. Soon enough, he lets out a little yelp of pleasure, alerting you to the place of his prostate. His legs tremble as you continuously stimulate the sensitive spot and his moans grow louder in volume and more frequent.

Before he can cum from your skilled fingers, you pull them out. He whines at the loss, temporarily dissatisfied. However he let out a tiny whimper as he felt the head of your cock pushing against him. He nodded his head quickly, pushing back on you with his hips. It had been a long time since he had taken anyone and had since grown sensitive and the stretch was no longer familiar. He gasped as you began to push in, his hands pawing at the wall again as he fought with himself on whether to try and run from the overwhelming stimulation or push back and get more. However the choice is shortly made for him as your hand holds him steady by his stomach. He whines from the feeling of being filled, his legs shaking even more from the powerful sensation.

“Please it’s too deep! I- Oh..~” He complained though he rocked his hips against you. You smiled, feeling the bulge in his stomach from you. You pressed down on the area, making him squeal in surprise and enjoyment. Soon, you started moving, your thrusts were gentle and slow at first but soon got faster, harder and deeper. You would rub his hips every time you sped up, easing him through it. His moans grew louder in volume, echoing off the walls of the empty corridor. As you thrust harder and harder into the spirit, you were met by sobbing sounds joining the mix of moaning and creating a chorus of explicit sounds that met the slightly chilly air of your surroundings. His wordless pleas grew more desperate and you could tell he was getting close to his orgasm. You were growing close too with him clamped down so tightly around you.

You let out your own quiet groans and breathy moans into Muzan’s ear, spurring him on in his desperate attempt at release. He squirmed slightly, legs barely holding his weight anymore. He practically screamed as he came, white staining the wall along with his stomach. He let out a few sobs as you fucked him through his orgasm, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. You came shortly after, groaning while you filled him. He nearly collapsed after that, had you not caught him. You pressed a loving and gentle kiss to his temple and he could only weakly lean into the touch, looking for more comfort after such intense sensations. You lifted him into your arms and dressed him, ignoring the fact that your cum would probably get on his pants. You pull your own pants back up and then began walking down the hallway, the passed out ghost snuggling up to you.

#demon slayer #sub kny #dom reader #kny #kny smut #sub character #kny x you #smut #muzan smut #muzan #muzan x y/n #sub muzan #amab

447 notes · View notes

peaches2217 · 7 days

Text

There’s a door on the right wall of Peach and Mario’s bedroom, just a few meters from the entryway. It’s an entirely unremarkable door, really; it matches the doors to both the private chambers and the restroom, white with gold trimmings and a polished brass doorknob. Such a door normally wouldn’t give Peach any pause whatsoever.

There is, however, one strange thing about this door in particular: it wasn’t there this morning.

She repeatedly looks from the door to her husband, who’s casually unlacing his boots by the dresser. The door to her husband, who’s rummaging through the third drawer down. The door back to her husband, who’s unhooking his overalls and kicking them onto the plush carpet floor. If he’s aware of this anomaly in an otherwise familiar setting, he’s not showing it.

“Mario.”

Mario hums lazily, not even looking at her as he pulls on his softest, most worn nightshirt, its red cotton faded and fraying. Peach is almost certain she’s dreaming right now. She was so certain she had been awake just minutes ago, laughing with friends and family over dinner, cheerfully accompanying her husband to bed after a long and eventful day of baby shopping with her best friend (though it's still a bit early to be buying any clothes, she’d tried saying a few times, statements that Daisy had immediately brushed off). But everything suddenly feels far too… off.

“What is that?” she finally chances, gesturing to the alien door. Mario finishes peeling off his socks and gloves before looking to where she’s gesturing, regarding it with all the mundanity he might regard any other door.

“It’s a door,” he answers easily, giving her a patented I have no clue what you’re getting at but I love you and cherish the words that come from your mouth anyway grin.

Peach sucks in an uneasy breath. Maybe this is that Pregnancy Brain thing she’s read about? Perhaps her memories are being rearranged, her senses tricked? Toadessa did warn her that she might become increasingly forgetful as the months progressed. It’s a more logical explanation than any other she can conjure up. If something were truly amiss, then surely Mario would notice too. Right?

“I… don’t remember it being there this morning,” she confesses, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She remembers, or at least thinks she remembers, that there was once a small storage unit just behind that door, filled with old broken halberds and spears and other assorted equipment that was too valuable to trash but too broken to repair. Yes, she remembers it now with greater confidence; she had been terrified of that dark, cluttered room, unable to sleep for fear of whatever monsters might be lurking within, and so Toadsworth had ordered it sealed when she was age seven or so.

Or maybe he hadn’t?

Mario chuckles, and though the corners of his eyes crease in good humor and his smile is filled with warmth, her face burns hotter still. “Fog’s already setting in, huh?” He taps a finger to his temple to hammer home what he’s implying, and though Peach knows his words hold no malice, the teasing still fans an unpleasant flame in her chest; she can’t help but cross arms in front of her and huff, half in hopes of exhaling that flame, half to make her displeasure known.

Suddenly Mario’s face reads a bit less amused and a bit more ashamed, and that just makes her feel even worse.

“No,” he croons, approaching her with his hands loosely extended, “tesoro mio, I’m so sorry. That was mean.” His tone doesn’t quite match his words. He’s clearly sorry to have provoked such a reaction, Peach doesn’t doubt his sincerity there, but there’s nevertheless a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, like there’s still something terribly amusing about her predicament.

So this is the thanks I get for carrying your child, she considers pouting, but something in Mario’s eyes sparkles so brightly that she feels her annoyance melting away, like an icicle brought into the sunlight. Damn him. She sighs and unfolds her arms to take his hands; for her silent pardon, he brings her knuckles to his lips and kisses them one by one, and suddenly she’s overcome with the urge to giggle like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

She resists, if only to spite him one last time, then she lets the grudge slide from her shoulders.

“You know,” Mario says once he’s done with his ministrations, his thumbs rubbing little circles into the backs of her hands, “I don’t have any right to poke fun. I don’t even remember what’s behind that door, either.”

Peach blinks. No, okay, now she knows she’s dreaming. This entire scenario is making less and less sense by the moment.

But before she can pinch herself awake, Mario’s guiding her towards the unfamiliar door, letting go of her hands and drifting behind her. Almost like he’s pushing her forward, she feels.

“Maybe we should check it out,” he suggests all too innocently, and if not for the way he lingers behind her, she might not find the suggestion too strange. But Mario always insists on taking the lead any time there’s unfamiliar terrain to be trekked. He would never let her be the first in the line of fire, no matter how mundane said terrain might appear on the surface, especially not in her present condition.

Unless, of course, he knows what she's stepping into.

Staring at the white and gold door, reason begins to resettle in Peach’s head. How had he known she was referring specifically to the door itself? If she were to gesture to the bathroom door and say "What is that?", he wouldn’t say “That’s a door,” he would say “That’s the bathroom.”

She’s not dreaming, nor is she going crazy. There is definitely something going on. Some sort of conspiracy that he’s in on and she’s not.

Unaccustomed to being left in the dark by her own husband, she grasps the doorknob, takes a breath, opens the door… and gasps.

The room behind the door is, in fact, the room she remembers, or is at least roughly the same size. But where she remembers dingy hardwood, there’s now carpet, luxuriously plush like the carpet in the bedroom. The sterile gray walls that once spooked her are now a soft and lovely blue, decorated with empty floating shelves and cheerful paintings of Biddybuds and Fire Flowers and scenes from familiar mushroom forests.

There's no trace of the broken weapons that once littered the room. There's instead a dresser flush to the wall, and a tall table of some sort, and a small chest in the opposite corner... and in the center of the room, on a round and ornate rug, are two pieces of furniture on smooth, curved rockers. One is a chair, adult human-sized; the other is much smaller, a horizontal hollow contained within smooth, round bars. A crib.

“Oh yeah,” Mario chimes in somewhere behind her, “now I remember! I knew there was a reason I asked Daisy to keep you out of the castle today.”

His words slowly sink in as Peach approaches the rocking chair, reaching out to brush her fingers over the dark red wood. Cedar. The whole room is filled with the dry and resinous aroma of fresh cedar, a scent she typically associates with the workshop in the castle's western wing. The workshop where Mario tinkers with metal and wood whenever he tires of royal monotony and needs to keep his hands occupied.

The workshop that's been suspiciously locked every time she's approached it the past couple of months, even when she could hear saws cutting through raw materials and the tap-tap-tap of chisels in experienced hands within.

All pretense is gone. When she turns back to Mario, she finds him bristling with pride, that teasing smile wider than before.

"You did this?" She looks back to the chair, fastened with fluffy pink silk cushions, and the crib, a matching cushion tied to its bars and emblazoned with the royal mushroom emblem on its headboard, an emblem that's been carved into the chest a few steps away as well. Something in her throat feels impossibly tight. "All of this?"

Mario finally leaves the doorway, his hand brushing against her back as he steps past her. "Well, not all of it, no. Just the furniture." He taps his right foot a few times against the statement rug beneath their feet. "Weeg handled the layout and the decorations and the swatches and all that fancy stuff. He's got a better eye for that sorta thing! Then he helped me get everything moved in and set up and the door re-installed while you and Daisy were out shopping. Of course Toadsworth's the one who told me about this little room in the first place, so he helped us get it unsealed, and Daisy—" He laughs now, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, she wasn’t even part of it originally! She just barged in one day — I had the door locked, Peachy, but she just waltzed right on in! I don’t know if she had a key or if she just forced it open with her bare hands — and she said the only way she’d keep quiet was if she got to be involved and take credit for her part in the whole ordeal, so that’s how that happened, and—”

His face grows darker as he prattles on, until at last he’s forced to take in a sharp gasp, his color returning to normal as oxygen once more fills his lungs. “But! The rest of it! Yeah, that was all me! Looky here—” His fingers curl around the bars of the crib, giving it a few demonstrative rocks. “Remember that night you called me into the bathroom and I thought you were hurt and I panicked but actually you were just excited because you could finally see a little baby bump in the mirror? I couldn’t sleep at all that night because suddenly it all felt so real, so I spent the whole next day making this!

“And then I thought, ‘Well, we’ve got a place for them to sleep, but where are we gonna change their diapers? And where are we gonna put all the diapers and wipes and all that good stuff anyway?’ And that’s how I got started on that one!” He darts now to the table against the wall, gesticulating around it with the enthusiasm of a used kart salesman. “Perfect little platform, plenty of storage space, I’ve been thinking about making a mobile to put over it too in case she gets fussy, because the last thing we need is a dirty diaper and a fussy baby, right? And then—”

And this continues on for a good few minutes, Mario darting around the room to show off each hand-crafted piece of their new nursery. The dresser to store non-diapers, things like blankets and onesies and a few changes of clothes for both of them because babies are messy and ruined clothes are inevitable, and the chest to store everything else, like toys — he throws the lid open and shows Peach a few delicately carved wooden blocks and dolls, because what's a toy chest without any toys?

The information comes at Peach too quickly to absorb any of it, because an excitable Mario is a Mario at full steam that won’t stop for anything or anyone, so she blindly follows him, brushing her fingers against each piece’s cool cedar, examining the smooth-gliding drawers, dragging her thumb nail over the ridges in each toy she’s handed.

“And then the bookshelf! I’m… still working on that one.” He scratches his neck again with a nervous chuckle. “But I couldn’t wait any longer! Gimme a few days and it’ll go in that corner right over there. Weegee’s already got a whole library lined up for her, so we should have enough books to last us a while at least. And then I was thinking we could put some flowers and vases on the shelves, maybe? So they look sad and empty now, but pretty soon they’ll…”

Peach dutifully admires one such shelf on the wall, right next to a painting of a Fire Flower field in full bloom. Yes, a live Fire Flower on the adjacent shelf to compliment the painting. It’s certainly a good idea. She’s so caught up in the automatic thought process that, as soon as it runs its course, she turns to take on whatever bit of information Mario throws at her next, effortless and thoughtless.

Only then does she realize he’s gone silent.

“...You okay, Peachy?” Suddenly there’s no bravado in his voice. It’s softer, gentler, quieter. He closes their distance and takes her hands in his, warm and strong. “Sorry, I… I know this is a lot. Of course, if there’s any part of it you don’t like, you can tell me! You know I won’t take it personally. Well, not too personally.” He couples this statement with a playful wink.

Another automatic thought crosses Peach’s mind: how could she ever criticize any of this? He’s made an entire nursery with his own two hands for their child. She could never…

And for the first time since she opened that strange new door, it hits Peach. Not in words, but in images: Mario in his workshop, wiping sweat and sawdust from his forehead as he consults his blueprints, making certain his vision is coming to life exactly as he’s planned. Mario crammed into a booth at Tayce T.’s with his brother, thick brows knit in confusion as Luigi gives him a crash course on color theory and interior design. Mario in a football-style huddle with Peach’s steward and brother-in-law and best friend, giving everyone their roles sometime late last night or early this morning while she still lay blissfully unaware in bed.

Mario kneeling beside the completed crib, rocking it a few times with a peaceful smile, staring down at the plush pink cushion and imagining a little blonde or brunette bundle of blankets sleeping soundly within.

The stagnant tightness in Peach’s throat erupts in the form of a sob, a rush of raw hormones heightening her every emotion until it almost hurts, and once she starts, it’s impossible to stop.

“Ah— Peachy—!” She hears Mario offer a few uncertain words of comfort beneath her shrill breathing, and he starts to pull her in some equally uncertain direction (uncertain to her, anyway, because her tears are falling too hard and too fast to make out anything other than abstract shapes). She lets him guide her steps, until suddenly he hoists her into his arms and lowers both of them. He’s settled in the rocking chair, she realizes from the way they both jolt as he adjusts her in his lap.

Her belly is larger now than it was the night she called him into the bathroom, though not so large that she can’t wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly, burying her face into the crown of his head. Even his hair smells of cedar, a fine dust that tickles her nose, and laughter bubbles in her chest alongside the tears.

“You’re amazing,” she manages to choke out. Her Mario, her thoughtful Mario, her hard-working and mind-bendingly devoted Mario. He cradles her, his left hand against her outer thigh, his opposite arm supporting her back, his right hand stroking the side of her belly ever so gently.

“So,” he says into her chest, and she can feel him smile against her, “does this, uh, does this make up for the teasing earlier?”

Peach sniffles and laughs again, drawing him in closer. Even if she hasn’t forgiven him (which she has, she’d like to believe she’s not that petty), she supposes drenching his hair with tears and mucus is payback enough. Maybe they can shower together tonight. Maybe she can wash his hair, and he’ll press kisses to her sternum the whole time, like he always does.

Though for now, she’s equally content to remain right where she’s at, secure in his arms in this cozy little nursery, their baby nestled safely between their bodies. It’ll still be a few more months before this space is put to proper use, after all. What’s the rush?

#well! this was corny even for me #but I enjoyed writing it so you won't be hearing any apologies from me. 😆#I love the thought that mario simply Cannot Shut Up when he’s excited so this is my propaganda as well #bonus points if you remember the post this was based off of! it was from december I think?#super mario bros #smb #mario #princess peach #mario x peach #mareach #peaches' fancy fics #tw pregnancy

95 notes · View notes

tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Text

Is That So?

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Main Characters: Lo’ak Sully (19) x fem Metkayina Reader y/n (19)

Supporting Characters: Ao’nung (20)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fluff, smean dom Lo’ak, brat/sub reader, profanity, jealous/territorial behaviour, knotting, marking, oral sex, rough/make up sex, mild angst, overstimulation, minor degradation, soft ending

Word Count: 5.5k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hey anon! I hope this is okay. I kind of changed things up a bit because I did a similar piece but with Neteyam (Eyes For You). Enjoy <3

Synopsis: You and Lo’ak had a secret relationship. He ended things suddenly and painfully. You sought comfort with Ao’nung. Lo’ak witnesses this, intervenes and reclaims you as his.

Intro:

Lo’ak and his family sought uturu in your village a few months ago. Olo’eyktan, Tonowari, put the responsibility of teaching the sully family the ways of the Metkayina on you and his daughter, Tsireya and her brother, Ao’nung. Lo’ak proved to have a harder time adapting to the water than his siblings. As a result, you and him have spent a lot of time together, especially one on one breathing lessons. Ever since, you two have been sneaking around and spending ‘quality’ time together – keeping it a secret from everyone.

----

Lo’ak quickly repositions his loincloth and sheathes his hunting knife onto his hip. You watch him intently as you lean back onto the tree, trying to catch your breath. He’s always quick to leave after you and him finish the deed, grabbing his belongings and making an excuse before he goes. You knew it was coming soon.

“Uhm, y/n.” He looks down at your naked body. “I need to -”

“Go? Yeah. I know.” You say, turning your head away from him.

You can’t deny that it hurts you every time he does this.

“You didn’t even let me finish. My brother, he needs m-” he starts, only to be cut off by you again.

“He needs you to help him with something?” You look at up at him, raising your brows slightly. “Yeah. I know.” You repeat, feeling disappointed.

Lo’ak realizes that you’re upset – it was hard not to. He kneels, meeting you at your eye level.

“What is it? Are you upset with me?” he takes your hand in his.

Here we go again with the mixed signals. He says one thing and then does another. He says he can’t stay to cuddle but when you get upset about it he does this – grabbing your hands, acting like he cares about your happiness. You roll your eyes and shake your head, batting his hand off yours.

“Just, stop with the lies, Lo’ak. Just say that you want to leave... that you don’t want to stay, rather than you ‘can’t’.”

He looks at you dumbfounded, like you just told him you were with child.

“Yeah, and stop with the mixed signals, too. One minute you’re acting so loving and caring, and the next you act like you don’t want anything to do with me.” You spit, standing up to put on your loincloth.

“Y/n... I’m sorry. I - I should have been more honest with you. It’s – it’s not even what you think.” He drops his head, brushing his hands over his braids as he steps back. He looks back up at you, with big, glowing, golden saucers.

You look at him, searching his eyes for something – anything. To hear the words ‘its not what you think’ makes you feel that maybe – just maybe, there was a good reason behind all his actions. Something to pardon him of his assholish behavior. It brings hope to your heart, that maybe one day you can have what you want... him.

The truth is, he’s promised to another na’vi. No matter how badly he wants to be your mate – your one and only, he can’t. Not only would he be a huge disappointment to his father, but he would let down the Olo’eyktan, as he’s promised to his daughter – your best friend. Which is another reason why he never marked, knotted or made the bond with you.

Lo’ak found Tsireya beautiful – stunning, even. But her beauty compared no where near to yours. He wants nothing more than to stop sneaking around, to just be able to do something as simple as holding your hand around your friends. But the pressure from his father is immense, and the pressure from Tonowari is even worse.

He knew that inevitably this would have to come to an end. Neither of you or Tsireya know about the betrothment yet, seeing that Tonowari is waiting for him to become Metkayina first. Regardless, there were too many reasons why this wouldn’t work out.

Seeing the hope in your eyes, it dawns on him that the only way to do this would be the hard way – to hurt you. Hurt you to the point where you wouldn’t want to come back.

“I can’t be in anything serious with you.” he states. “I just don’t like you in that way.” He lies, gritting his teeth, not wanting to say the words.

He sees the hurt in your eyes, as they well with tears. He watches your brows pull closely together, and your bottom lip quiver. He hated seeing you upset – seeing you sad. It broke his heart, but it hurt even more knowing that he was the one making you feel this way.

He swiftly turns his head, focusing on the waterfall nearby, not being able to stand the sight of you hurting. He closes his eyes briefly, and exhales loudly through his nose. “You were a good fuck. But nothing more. We... we should see other na’vi.”

You’re speechless. Frozen in time. Trying your absolute hardest not to drop to your kneels and bawl your eyes out. All you can do is stare at the shell of a person who you thought you once knew – the person who took your virtue, as he walks away from you.

Lo’ak makes his way to his ikran, connecting his queue to it, before stopping in his tracks to look at his feet. “My heart has always been promised to Tsireya.” he mutters under his breath, mounting his banshee and flying away – not wanting to see the mess he left behind.

Now, that stung.

You were left behind in the jungle, alone with your thoughts. The words are like a blow to your back, strong enough to completely knock the wind out of you. You find yourself stumbling backwards, slumping against the tree before sliding down to your knees. Your heart hurt. It hurt so bad you could feel the pain in your chest. It burns, even. It’s as if he set fire to your heart and walked away to let you turn into ash. No number of tears that you shed could put it out.

You had to seek relief elsewhere – a distraction from the pain.

----

It’s been two weeks since Lo’ak left you in the jungle to sit in a puddle of your own tears. Since you've had to endure your heat in your marui pod alone, something he would usually help you with. You took that week off not only to endure it alone, but to give yourself some space away from Lo'ak and Tsireya.

Your feelings of despair have morphed into feelings of resentment. How could he do this to you? How could he just take what he wanted and leave you like that? Leave you alone in heat? It was unfair. You feel cheated. What hurt the most is that it’s your best friend of all people - driving a rift between the two of you.

It became awkward when the group finally came together, especially for hunting trips. Both you and Lo’ak pretended like nothing happened, because no one knew about your relationship to begin with. Tsireya didn’t quite understand why you were being so cold and distant, which pushed her even closer to Lo’ak.

Seeing their relationship strengthen over time drove you closer to Ao’nung. You knew he always had a thing for you from you were both kids. You also knew to never entertain it, the son of Olo’eyktan would never be allowed to mate with you. You were simply the daughter of a warrior and healer of the clan. But maybe, you could use him – just this once.

----

“Ao’nung!” you shout, trying to get his attention among the group.

He turns his head in your direction, seeing you signal him to come with your hand. He makes his way over to you on his ilu.

“Yes, sweets?” he smirks, having your ilus circle one another.

He’s always been flirty with you, calling you all sorts of nicknames – sweets, my lovely, cutie, pretty – the list is endless.

“Hi, you.” you mumble, not sure what to say.

“Need me for something?” he asks, peering at you through his brows.

You look behind him briefly, seeing that Lo’ak and your best friend are side by side, laughing with one another. It makes you... angry, more than sad. Sure, it still stings your heart, but as more time passes, vengeful feelings make their way to the forefront. You want to get back at him for doing this to you – for acting so normally.

“No. I – I mean yes.” You stutter, feeling nervous about what you’re about to do. “I... just wanted... to talk, I guess.” Your words are drawn out, lengthy and uncertain.

He gives you a puzzled look, not wanting to make any advances if you were unsure.

“Okay, my lovely. I’m here. What did you want to talk about?” he smiles, looking you up and down.

“Uhm...” you hum, looking around at the ocean, trying to find something else to focus on.

Your eyes pass by Lo’ak, who is now intently watching your interaction with Ao’nung with a straight face, patiently waiting for something to unfold. You decide to look back at Ao’nung, scanning his body up and down too. It’s undeniable – he’s handsome, well built, and muscular.

His ribs are wide, something that’s seen as desirable and admirable here. It means that he’s an experienced diver, able to hold his breath for long periods of time. Why would someone like Ao’nung, son of Olo’eyktan, like someone like you? Maybe you could let yourself dream a little; allow yourself to get lost in the man before you, even if it’s farfetched.

“Like what you see?” he asks jokingly, trying to hold back his smirk.

You drop your gaze and let loose a breathy chuckle, you didn’t realise that you were lingering.

“Actually...” you trace up his body with your eyes, meeting his gaze once more. “...I do.” You try to hide your smile as you feel your face heat up.

You watch him move even closer to you, with a huge grin on his face. He rests his hand on your thigh as his eyes search your body, stopping his gaze at your breasts.

“I like what I see, too.” he says huskily, shooting his gaze back up to yours.

His face becomes serious, as he moves his hand slowly up your thigh. Your heart starts thumping, hard. All from his simple touch.

Am I into this right now? you wonder, taking note of your racing heart.

The heat pooling in your chest confirms it for you, as it slowly makes it’s way down to your pelvis in waves. You glance down at his hand sliding up your thigh, gliding towards the flesh between your legs. Looking back up at him, you rest your hand over his, and guide it to your hip, hooking his fingers under your loincloth.

Yeah. I’m into this. You hype yourself up, trying to get rid of your anxiety.

The tension is off the charts. You can tell from the way he’s tugging at your loincloth that he would rip it off and take you right now, right here.

And you’d let him.

You slide your hand over his strake (fin like structure on the forearm), and squeeze his thick, veiny bicep. Unbeknownst to you, Lo’ak left Tsireya and Neteyam, and made his way over to you, breaking the tension with Ao’nung.

The sight makes him queasy, to see you touch another man in that way. Mostly, it infuriates him, making him see red. On top of his hot temperament, seeing this scene unfold in front of him sends him into a silent frenzy. Gritting his teeth, Lo’ak firmly grabs you by the arm.

“Y/n. A word.” He spits, pulling your hand off Ao’nung’s bicep as he rides away on his ilu.

You don’t follow him. Instead, you shoot him a puzzled look - confused as to why he’s even over here trying to talk to you.

Didn’t this man just tell me to see other na’vi?

Lo’ak looks back to see that you haven’t budged. “Y/n! Now.” He demands, shooting you that look.

You scoff loudly, shaking your head before apologizing to Ao’nung. You know what that look means, it means he’s not happy with you. It means, you’ve been a bad girl. It means…

You must be disciplined.

You begrudgingly pull away from Ao’nung’s sweet touch, becoming even angrier with Lo’ak for ruining this for you, too. You ride your ilu roughly, following him to what seems to be…

The cove of the ancestors?

You two had only ever gone there once - only because your spot in the jungle was taken by Neteyam and his mate. You chuckle at the memory. Both he and his mate were surprised to see you and Lo’ak walk towards them. You had to lie and tell them that you were teaching him a lesson in the lake nearby.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the happy memories you and him once had. You will yourself to recall the horrible things he said to you two weeks ago. As you two approach the rocky coast of the cove of the ancestors, you dismount your ilus and stand face to face.

“What is it, Lo’ak?” You croak, already holding back your angry tears. “I thought you were done with me.”

“Why the fuck were Ao’nung’s fingers under your loincloth?” He shouts, turning his back on you.

“Really? This is what you brought me all the way out here for?” You hiss, turning around to mount your ilu.

You feel him grab your arm again, even rougher this time, and pull you into him. You see his face contorted with rage – his eyes green from envy. You’d never seen him this upset before, you could practically see his stream coming through his nostrils.

“I thought you told me to see other na’vi.” You mutter. “Go fuck Tsireya or something.” You shrug him off you, matching his rage.

“Fuck. Y/n.” He spits, clenching his jaw. “Agh. You - fuck. You really know how to piss me off.”

“Yeah? Likewise, asshole.” you mutter, rolling your eyes before turning away from him.

He pulls you back in, grabbing you by the jaw. “You’re mine.” He growls deeply, looking directly into your eyes. “Understood?”

“Is that so?” The words come out muffled as you try to rip away from the firm grip he has on your face.

“Let go, Lo’ak” you grimace, feeling his fingers dig into your skin.

Suddenly, his gaze softens, realizing that he’s hurting you. He lets go and takes a step back, dropping his head.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles, feeling terrible for handling you so roughly. “When I saw him touch you like that… when I saw you touch him like that…” he struggles to get his words out.

You can already feel yourself softening at his words. Your feelings for him were too strong to deny… to ignore. You stand there, in silence, allowing him the chance to speak – to redeem himself.

“I… I see you, y/n.” He says seriously, putting your hand against his chest.

Tears roll down your cheeks. Hearing him say these words brings too many emotions to you at once. You pull away, afraid of being hurt again. He grabs your hand, placing it back onto his chest, afraid that he’s really losing you.

“Please... just listen.” He pleads, furrowing his brows. “My father. Tonowari. They want me to be Tsireya's mate.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want this, I don’t want... her. But you know the pressure they put me under. I’m sorry I said those horrible things to you...” he drops his head again, allowing his tears to fall on the ground.

“I didn’t mean a single word.”

There you go, completely soft for the man that stands before you, all over again. Your feelings come crashing back into you like they never left. Because they didn’t. You can’t even figure out how you feel, as so many emotions and thoughts are coursing through you all at once.

“So, when I saw you and Ao’nung.” He mutters under his breath.

You witness a sudden change in his demeanour, as he embodies that of an akula. You watch as his amber eyes turn into a deep gold as they trace their way up your body, to look deeply into yours.

“… it makes me want to fuck the sense back into you” he growls.

A fire lights within your chest, just like the one he lit when he left you in the jungle alone. But this time, it burns brighter, bigger – hotter. You step towards him, maintaining eye contact. You come face to face with the akula and challenge him.

“So do it.” You taunt, brushing your chest against his. “Fuck me.” You whisper.

In an instant he has his hand wrapped tightly around your throat, backing you up against the rocky cove.

“Say that again, little one.” He snarls.

“I said. Fuck. Me.” You moan, staring up at him as you caress the arm that pins you against the cove.

He chuckles. “Let’s do it.” He drops his smile, turning you around and pushing you against the rough wall.

You let out breathy laugh, happy that you’re finally getting what you want. He holds your face firmly against the cove with one hand, and tugs your loincloth down your legs with the other.

“What? Don’t think I’ll make you mine? Hmm? Right here? Right now?” he pants into your ear as he kicks your legs apart.

His eager movements make the fire within your chest even hotter. “I don’t.” you tease.

“Watch me.” He growls, licking your ear, hurriedly untying his own loincloth.

He presses his thick cock against you whilst he kisses the nape of your neck. “We are in the most sacred place, are we not?” he mumbles into your neck, brushing his sharp fangs against your skin.

You can’t even form a coherent thought, you’re too overwhelmed by his insistent touches. All you can think about is how badly you want him to ram his cock inside of you, to fuck the sense back into you – to discipline you. The sensation of his teeth rubbing against you makes you pant, hard.

Without warning, he marks you. Sinking his teeth into your skin, sucking slightly as he draws blood. You whimper loudly, wriggling under his grasp, feeling the wetness between your thighs drip down your legs. He unlatches and licks the wound.

“Mine.” He whispers directly into your ear, pressing his bulge between your lips.

It makes your luminescence flicker, being tamed by his touch in this way. You’re panting heavily at this point, feeling your heart thump uncontrollably. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you’d lose it.

“Oh, please...” you breathe shakily, backing yourself up onto him. “...I’m still not yours.”

Teasing Lo’ak like this would only get you one thing – punished. You want the beast within him to come out and play, to obliterate you completely.

Just like that, the beast came out to play.

“Fuck, woman.” He presses your face even harder against the wall as he hurriedly rubs his cock against you cunt, coating it with your thick slick.

“Say that again.” He growls, lining up his tip with your aching hole.

He really growled this time, right into your ear. It frightens you, making you nervous to repeat yourself.

“I’m still... not you- Fuck!” you yelp, being cut off by him ramming his entire length into you in one, hard thrust.

“Not what?” he whispers breathily, pressing his cockhead firmly against your cervix.

“Ugh... f-fuck Lo’ak.” You moan loudly, melting into his rough touches.

He pulls his cock all the way out of you, leaving the tip in. “Not. What?” he repeats.

“No... please.” You beg him, feeling so empty.

“Say it, you little slut.” He growls, squeezing your hip with his free hand.

“Fuck. I’m yours. I’m yours!” you shout, trying to rock back into him.

“That’s right. You are mine.” He plants a sloppy kiss on your neck as he slams his entire length back into you.

You squeal loudly, trying to keep your noises to a minimum.

“No. Moan for me, so that boy toy of yours can hear you.” he slams his cock into you once more.

“Ughhh. Lo’ak!” you let loose a lengthy, high-pitched moan.

“Just like that” he smiles into your neck.

Lo’ak moves his hand from your hip to your cunt, using two fingers to rub circles onto your swollen clit. He’s pounding into you so roughly that your legs feel like they're about to give out. Swiftly moving his other hand from your head down to the thin cloth covering your breasts, he fiddles with it, untying the knot in a hurry. It falls off you, exposing your erect nipples.

“Every part of you. It’s all mine. All of it.” He grunts into your shoulder, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

You feel so dazed – so out of it. He’s giving you the pounding of your life, whilst massaging your clit and nipple at the same time. You couldn’t think straight, much less answer him. You close your eyes tightly, trying to focus on one sensation at a time, so not to cry from the extreme overstimulation. But it’s all too much.

“...mmn. Lo’ak... Please! It’s too fucking much! Stop!” You whine loudly, trying to pull his hand away from your clit.

“I tell you *slam* to go see *slam* other na’vi *slam* and you actually do it? You listen to me too well.” He pants, thrusting his hips even faster into you.

“Please! Lo’ak I can’t take anymore!” You cry out, moving your other hand behind you, pushing his pelvis away from you.

“Cum for me, then I’ll give you a break.” He breathes, pushing even harder against you.

Each thrust makes your lewd noises louder and louder. He sets a merciless rhythm, rutting his hips into you ruthlessly, insisting with his thrusts that you cum on his throbbing, veiny cock. He matches the speed of his fingers with his hips, fondling with your pearl even faster. You let loose little, whiney mewls as you can’t hold back anymore. Giving into the immense pleasure, you release your tensed muscles, allowing yourself to cum at last.

“Cumming! Cumming! Cumming!” you repeat loudly, hoping he’ll hear you and stop.

But he doesn’t.

Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, just like your pussy pulsing violently around his cock, releasing your essence all over it. He’s still pounding into you, feeling no pity for your trembling body.

“I came Lo’ak! Please!” you beg, clawing at Lo’ak’s arm.

“Shh, little one. It’s alright, you can take it.” He reassures you, planting hickeys along your shoulders, ramming his cock even deeper into you. “It’s what you deserve for being a little slut. For touching Ao’nung.” He growls, pressing even harder against your clit.

“No! No... please!” you cry out, begging him repeatedly for mercy.

Tears stream down your face as you sob from the overstimulation. It feels like your clit is on fire, like your bladder is going to burst – like you’re going to cum all over again.

“I feel you heating up again, my sweetheart. It’s okay, you can cum.” He groans in your ear.

You sob loudly, as your face reddens from the swelling of your sweet spot. He’s fucking right into it, trying to make you gush all over him again. You feel your body pushing him out of you, tensing up again as you reach your second climax.

“Here? Right?” he pants, bucking his hips even harder into your sweet spot.

“F-fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!” You sob as your entire body convulses, pushing his cock out of you while you squirt your nectar all over your trembling legs.

He pulls his hands away from your sore nipple and clit, wrapping them tightly around your waist to keep your knees from buckling. You slump into him, breathing erratically as you come down from your high.

“Shh... Shh. You did well, baby.” He whispers, lowering you onto your knees. “Here is your little break...” he grabs a fist full of your hair, turning you around to face his huge cock. “...you earned it.”

He looks down at your watery, drunk eyes as he pushes his cock into your face. “Taste yourself.”

You take a deep breath, before taking his tip into your mouth. From all the sobbing and begging from earlier, you had enough spit for him to slide his entire length into your mouth easily. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag. His head dips back as he releases guttural groans into the air.

“Fuck.” he moans, pulling himself out of you. “Lie down and spread your legs for me.”

You know better by now not to disobey his orders. You were too fucked out to even talk back. You lay down on the mossy rock beneath you and open your weak legs. He sees your inebriated, weary eyes, and starts to pity you.

“Alright, my love. You’re okay.” He hums, gently wrapping your limp legs around his hips.

He crouches over you, looking deeply in your eyes, realizing how far he went. He wipes your tears away with the back of his hand and leans in to kiss you softly. He moves his wet kisses down to your shoulders, planting a kiss over every hickey he left behind.

“Do you want to stop?” he mumbles into your shoulder.

You look down to see his raging erection, jumping at the sight of your slit. “But you haven’t calmed down yet.” You mumble.

“So? It does not matter.” He mutters, unwrapping your legs from his hips.

“No, don’t.” you purr, tightening your legs around him, pulling him closer to you. “Keep going.”

He stops briefly, searching for your bluff in your eyes. You pull him his face closer to yours and kiss him feverishly. “I want you inside me, Lo’ak.”

You both watch as his cock disappears slowly into your body, inch by inch. Your gazes meet again now that you are forehead to forehead. He rocks into you languidly, as he caresses your thighs. Your breath hitches when his pelvis meets yours.

“You okay?” he asks, worried that you’re in pain.

“Mhm, feels good.” You breathe into his mouth.

“Y/n.” he states, thrusting lazily into you.

“Mmm?” you hum, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in pleasure.

“Will you be my mate?” he pants as his hips buck into you a little faster.

Your eyes fly open, surprised that he asked you that. He can see the shock in your face and kisses you gently.

“I mean it. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what happens if I go against my father. Or Tonowari.” He pants between kisses. “I want you to be mine. For life.”

Here we go, crying again. The words touched your heart in a way you’ve always wanted his words to. He pulls away and hushes you, wiping away your tears once more.

“Don’t cry, my sweetheart.” He whispers, leaning back in to kiss you once more. “You mean more to me than anything else.”

You feel like you can’t get the words out – you’re so choked up. Instead, you just tug at his queue, bringing it over his shoulder.

“Say the words, my love. I don’t want to do this if you’re not sure.” He stops his movements, sitting up slightly.

You nod quickly, still tugging at his queue. “Yes, Lo’ak. Yes.”

His eyes lit up as the corner of his lips curved upwards. Lifting your head with one hand, he uses the other to stroke the length of your queue, bringing it over your shoulder. Taking his queue in your hand, you bring them together, watching them intertwine with one another. You both take a sharp breath when the bond is made, feeling each other’s breath, the thump of your hearts... the love you have for one another.

“I see you, my mate.” Lo’ak croaks, holding back his tears.

“I see you, ma Lo’ak.” You cry, kissing him passionately.

His hips rock into you once more, picking up speed quickly now that he can feel your arousal – your desire for him. He’s so deep inside of you it feels like he’s about to pierce through your cervix, right into your womb. He’s never gone this deep before. You struggle to catch your breath, as you look up into the sky to see the eclipse occurring.

How long have we been at this?

The fire in your chest is overflowing, trickling down your spine right into your womb. You feel sensations you’ve never felt before. You’re synced with him, feeling his climax quickly approaching. Not only that, but you can feel something else – something bigger asking for permission to come inside of you. Worried, you search your mates’ eyes for answers.

“Feel that?” he grunts, pushing his knot against your entrance. “’tis my knot. You think you can take it?” he asks breathlessly, through pursed lips and furrowed brows.

He’s never knotted you before. He always made up some excuse before, about why knotting is off the table. All you can muster up the energy to do is nod, as you open your legs even more to accommodate him.

“Wait. Did you get your heat?” he pants, trying to figure out the chances of getting you pregnant if he knots you right now.

“I – I got it... the week you left me. Mmn... The week that I took off - Ugh!” You whimper, feeling his knot trying to burrow its way inside of you.

“Fuck. Y/n. You should have told me.” He grunts, pushing his pelvis into you even more.

“I didn’t know! I thought... you told me... Oh – oh shit. Lo’ak that’s too big!” you blabber as your head feels cloudy. “I can’t –”

“Only I can calm your heat, y/n.” he grits his teeth, gripping your hips and pulling them closer to his.

Images of Ao’nung calming you during your heat unwillingly flashes through your mind. You can feel the jealously bubbling in Lo’ak’s chest - his territorial urges taking charge. He’s going to knot you, whether you like it or not. You hold on tightly to your mate, bracing yourself for Lo'ak to claim you as his.

You feel your pussy stretch to incomprehensible lengths as he shoves your hips down onto his thick, purple, veiny knot. Your moans start as low, lengthy mewls, eventually morphing into loud, strained grunts as it pops inside of you. You bury your face into his neck, breathing in his natural scent.

His cock throbs, spurting thick ropes of warm, sticky seed deep inside your womb. You hear his guttural groans and grunts right next to your ear, as he rocks into you every so often, ensuring to fill you to the brim.

“Mine.” He growls, slumping onto you.

“Lo’ak.” You croak, barely being able to breathe. “You’re squishing me.”

“Mmm.” He groans, rolling onto his back, bringing you with him.

You’re on top of him now, laying stomach to stomach, whilst your face is nestled into his chest. You take a few deep breaths, before closing your heavy-lidded eyes.

----

After caring for one another, you both make your way back to the village. Arriving at the shore, you dismount your ilus and walk hand in hand to the mangroves where you meet the displeased gaze of the Olo’eyktan and Jake. Behind them stood the rest of the sully family, and Tonowari’s family.

Everyone is trying to get a glance at the two of you through the two big-bodied men that stand before you. You both bow, sweeping your fingers from your forehead towards them, acknowledging their presence. They look at each of you, and then down to your intertwined fingers. Jake is visibly resisting the urge to skin his son in front of everyone, and Tonowari is giving you a very disappointed look. Ronal steps forward, looking the two of you up and down as she circles you both.

“Tonowari. What is this?” she yells, causing both your ears to lay flat.

Lo’ak lets go of your hand and steps in front of you.

“We are mated...” he mumbles, looking at his feet. “...for life.”

“That’s enough.” Jake interrupts, hissing under his teeth.

Lo’ak shakes his head, stepping back to hold your hand once more. “It is done. Before Eywa.” he looks up at his father, and Olo’eyktan.

Ao’nung makes his appearance, walking swiftly from behind his father, eyes locked tightly onto Lo’ak holding your hand. Lo’ak strides forward, almost lunging at Ao’nung. You pull him back to you, and tug on his arm.

“Don’t. Were already in a lot of shit, Lo'ak.” You whisper, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I don’t care. You are my mate, now.” he whispers loudly, hoping Ao’nung and the rest can hear him.

“Is that so?” you mutter under your breath, dropping your head to hide your grin.

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @bl-lover-yaoi @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @itssiaaax @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @jakesullysbabygirl @rinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @boooogieman @jiafeimagic @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump

932 notes · View notes

myhairpintrigger · 1 year

Note

Hello Hello! I finished reading Shadow and Bone a month ago, and just finished watching it on Netflix yesterday. While scrolling the Darkling x reader tag, I found your blog, and I must say it's so cute! I absolutely adore it! Can I request a cute little Darkling x Fem Reader? Reader is seven months pregnant, and some random Grisha insults her infront of the Darkling and he goes wild. THENNNN when training people, she kinda gets into a fight and uses her powers on someone? Basically Reader being iconic for lord knows how long. Anyways, I hope you can write it and please take your time! <33 THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!

hi anon... as per usual this was a late night project so I apologize for the quality.. but i love u for requesting this <3333 also no zoya hate… i just didn’t feel like making up someone else so my poor baby got chosen to be the mean girl.

warnings: a little bit of zoya slander (but we love her)

word count: 2.1k

Fiery (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

Aleksander was never one for public displays of affection. It was never something he was interested in, even once it had been common knowledge that you two were married. Other than a hand hold or a little kiss on the top of your head, most of your touches stayed between the two of you.

That was, until you became pregnant.

Once you two had found out that you were expecting, he took every chance he could get to hold onto you and pull you closer in front of everyone.

Your morning had started like every other morning had for the last seven months of your pregnancy. Aleksander would wake you a while after he’d been awake and ready for the day, and he’d sit with you in his arms on the edge of the bed for a long time, not saying a single word. You two stayed like that for almost twenty minutes, and finally, when it was time to get up, he placed a soft kiss on the side of your face and helped you out of bed.

“I have meetings to attend today. Would you care to come along?” He asked softly and looked down at you while you pulled your nightgown off.

“Oh, perhaps. I wouldn’t want to miss out on your company.” You hummed, and it was true. You didn’t care for being away from your husband often.

Normally he wouldn’t ask you to join him, but ever since you’d become pregnant, he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. You knew it was because a deep worry plagued him, a worry that was nearly as ancient as him. The fear that something could happen to you and his unborn child prompted him to keep you at his side at all times; and really you couldn’t complain.

He brought your dress over to you and helped you pull it on before he laced it up and you let out a content sigh.

“Always so kind as to take care of me.” You teased and leaned back against his chest when he finished lacing your dress up.

“How could I not? You can’t even hardly touch your own toes. Speaking of, sit. I’ll put your shoes on for you.” He hummed and you obliged, sitting down on the chair nearest to you. He went off to find your shoes and came back a moment later with them, sinking to his knees in front of you. He gently eased the shoes onto your feet and you let out a little sigh.

“I want to stay in bed with you all day.” You said quietly and he looked up at you with a frown.

“My love, I promise we will have a day to just ourselves as soon as possible. You are more than welcome to stay here if you want.”

“No. It worries you. I can always tell.”

He responded with a little nod and then he finished tying up your shoe before he stood and held his hands out for you.

You took them gently and he pulled you to your feet before pulling you into a gentle embrace.

“Have I told you recently just how happy you make me?” He asked softly and then pulled away from you just enough to look down at your face with a smile.

“You might have. I hope that I, too, have mentioned just how elated I am to be with you.” You replied and his smile grew. He moved down to kiss your nose once before he clasped your hand in his and tugged you towards the door.

“Come, let’s get a move on. The day cannot begin without us.”

You sat around a table with Aleksander and a handful of other Grisha while your husband stood, pointing at various places on the map. You weren’t really listening to him. You didn’t have to be in on this meeting, but he insisted that you come, so instead of paying much attention, you instead laid your hands against your abdomen. You smiled contently when you felt a little kick against your torso and you laid your hand down over it.

Aleksander must have noticed you feeling for the kick, because he trailed off and reached down to lay his hand over yours. You looked up at him with a smile and he leaned down to place a kiss on your hairline before he pulled his hand back and continued on speaking.

“You see, if we go around-“

“Excuse me. Why are you in here if you’re just going to sit and distract The General?” A sharp voice rang out, interrupting Aleksander and drawing your attention to her.

A Squaller you recognized as Zoya sat with her arms folded primly against her chest and she eyed you with a certain contempt.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked incredulously and pushed your chair away from the table.

Aleksander placed a hand on your shoulder gently and then he cleared his throat.

“My wife is here because she is a very talented and powerful Inferni. She sits on my council along with the rest of you.” He explained coolly. But Zoya didn’t take this as the end of the argument.

“Right, but we all know that’s not true. I mean really. You sit up in here and distract him and everyone else, don’t you have a life outside of following this poor man around?”

You stood up from the chair abruptly and opened your mouth to speak but Aleksander beat you to it.

“Enough! How dare you have the nerve to insult my wife? In front of me, as well. You are dismissed, Zoya.” Aleksander said, in a clipped tone.

“Oh, come on! If it were anyone else you wouldn’t care, General. But just because she’s knocked-“

Aleksander slammed his hand down on the table and then pointed up at Zoya.

“Leave while you still have tongue in your mouth. Stay, and I’ll cut it out and make you wear it on a chain around your neck.” He hissed and everyone at the table instantly looked down at their laps, avoiding any eye contact with the seething general.

Zoya looked taken aback and she scoffed and stormed out of the room, and you could hear her stomping footsteps all the way down the hall.

“Does anyone else have anything to say before I continue?” He asked lowly, his voice back to the cold and pleasant tone it normally was.

Everyone shook their heads and he let out a sigh, nodding once before he pointed back down to the map.

“As I was saying…” he began and you slowly lowered yourself back down onto the chair, holding your stomach as you did.

You huffed in annoyance and scooted back in, not paying attention to the rest of the meeting.

A while later, Aleksander placed his hand on your shoulder and offered you a hand to stand up. You took it gratefully and stood up with yet another angry huff. He briskly led you out of the meeting room and you opened your mouth to speak but Aleksander shushed you quietly.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. She will be dealt with.” He assured you and you shook your head.

“What the hell? She will be dealt with? I ought to deal with her myself! She can’t act that way!” You sputtered hotly, and you heard your husband laugh quietly.

“Aleksander! This isn’t funny! Stop laughing.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But you’re just so cute when you’re angry like this.” He teased and you rolled your eyes and then gently moved away from him.

“I’m supposed to oversee the training of the new Infernis today. There were a few brought in.” You stated and he nodded once.

“I will join you, then. After I check in on David. Will that be okay? Can you manage for just a few moments without me?” He asked and you simply scoffed.

Sure, at the time, it seemed like you could manage a couple of Infernis that couldn’t seem to make work of the Small Science.

And you could- really- but it was Zoya that you personally couldn’t handle.

She made a point to talk over you every time you opened your mouth, and you couldn’t help but wonder where Aleksander was and when he’d make good on his promise that she would be dealt with.

You stood silently next to Ivan and watched as a few other Inferni stepped in to help out the newcomers and you tapped the stoic man’s arm.

“Will you find The General for me?” You asked him quietly and looked up at him.

He simply glanced down at you and then shook his head.

“The General has asked me to stay with you while he’s away.”

“I can take care of myself.” You remarked and you could’ve sworn you saw a little smile on Ivan’s lips.

“I know, y/n. I’m sure everyone within the palace knows.” He replied in a monotone, but you didn’t miss the amusement in his eyes.

You went to point it out before a large gust of wind sent you crashing into Ivan’s side. He grabbed you firmly and held you on your feet so that you didn’t fall and you both turned your attention to Zoya who looked smugly at you.

“Sorry, y/n. You’d think I would’ve noticed you considering you’re… looking rather large these days.”

Your jaw almost fell to the floor, but you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, so instead you stared coldly at her and you shook your head.

“And you’d think that perhaps you would’ve learned some couth living here in a palace but apparently not.” You snapped back at her and her eyes narrowed angrily.

“Oh please, the only reason you’re here is because you-“

You had enough of her and you raised your hand and sent a wave of fire towards her. She scrambled backwards to escape it and fell into the dirt and you walked towards her angrily, flames still engulfing your hands.

“Because I what, Zoya? Do tell.” You rasped angrily and she held her hands up to send a gust of wind at you again, but you simply threw another cluster of fire down at her and she rolled away to dodge it.

You leaned down over the girl and grasped onto the lapels of her kefta, tugging her upwards a bit.

“You speak like that again to me and I will show you no mercy. You don’t have to like it but I am married to The General. Whatever past you have with him is just that; a past. Your jealousy changes nothing.” You spat down at her and then let go of her kefta.

You dusted off your own and then you eyed her with contempt.

“Get off of the ground and go clean yourself up. You’re covered in dirt.” You snapped and watched as the girl pushed herself to her feet and stormed off in anger and embarrassment. You let out an exasperated sigh and you placed your hands down on your stomach, feeling the gaze of everyone in the training yard hard on your back. You spun around and everyone shifted their eyes away as quickly as they could and your eyes landed on Aleksander who stood next to Ivan.

A little amused smirk tugged the corners of his lips up and he watched as you approached the two of them.

“You are going to over-exert yourself and then what?” Aleksander scolded you, but he wasn’t mad. In fact, he chuckled under his breath after he spoke and you rolled your eyes.

“Well, someone had to deal with the insolence and the back talking, if it had to be me then-“

You didn’t get to finish before he was approaching you and gently grabbing your wrists, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

“Let me stick to the punishment of my army. However, I think I can look past this, just this once.” He teased and you leaned against him with a sigh.

“I mean, it was amusing. You getting so angry while with child. It was like watching a furious toddler. You’re so cute and feisty.”

You rolled your eyes and then let out a little giggle.

“You could say… fiery.” You teased.

“That was hardly funny.” He replied.

But again, you could have sworn you saw Ivan smile.

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #grishaverse #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone

720 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

Omg omg HC to spare? Pls Toji lovingly and slowly seduces you and fucks you so intimately on the couch while you’re riding him to “come and talk to me” by Jodeci. The relationship started off as a one night stand between acquaintances, and now y’all fuck so frequently and so intimately. Locked eyes and pet names and praises that will make one would watched think y’all were DEEPLY in love 😩😩😩 pls you’re my favorite writer and I know I MF KNOW you’ll eat this shit up and make it art

honeyyyyy, I ain’t even no *huge* Toji girl (bc he still fine as hell, don’t get me wrong!) like that but what??? oh this is so sexy 😫 like this might be my awakening for this man!! May have to spin the block and do a full fic of this one day but yeah..

cw: riding, pet names (sweetness, doll, love) hand holding, praise kink

“Mmm..Toji, fuck!..right there, baby. That’s my spot.”

“I know, doll..oh god, you’re gripping me so fucking tight..”

the exchange between (y/n) and your long time lover entering yet another hour as the two of you engaged in various rounds of wonderful sex; inviting him over for yet another night cap that involved a little bit of white wine, wooing you with his sweet words, a massage and some sensual R&B music. Jodeci hummed through the speakers of the flatscreen mounted to the wall. Now here you were being impaled and bounced relentlessly atop Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock. That plump ass colliding and ricocheting off of his pelvis while your hands intertwined and balanced you in his firm grasp. That chiseled body and perfect physique lying underneath you; a giant smile plastered on his face from the smacking of your sweat slicked skin; the contrast of your tones flickering underneath the pale candlelight..it was the scene reminiscent of a romance movie. One that had been reoccurring for many months on end with it only improving every time. Learning and exploring one another’s bodies, falling deeper in love each time you make it. Tonight in particular was rather special, as Toji was just returning home from a business trip and the first person he came to visit upon touching back down was none other than you. Bearing flowers and gifts, he arrived at your doorstep; dressed in his signature black button down that exposed the chest, small silver necklace and black pants..his cologne wafting through your nostrils as well. All of which you had worked him out of by now, twirling the thin silver chain around your fingertip as you rode him to kingdom come. Obsessing over every square inch and crevice of each other’s flesh throughout the course of the night. “Toji, baby.. ‘m, so close..I’m gonna come again!” “Just keep going, sweetheart. Oh shit, you’re fucking me so good..” continuing to clutch hands as he began bucking his upward into you. That deep voice ringing out in your ear…shooting off expletives and singing your praises simultaneously. “You take me so good, sweetheart. Wrapping around my dick like this.” “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Oh God, you’re incredible.” Telling you all the sweet nothings to make you happy and even wetter than before. Filling you with every inch of him. The mixture of your messy climaxes seeping down your thighs and onto the cushions of the couch. But none of that mattered; only the time you shared with one another and having moments like this.

anyone from the outside looking in, they would have sworn that you and Mr. Fushiguro were a happily married couple yet it couldn’t be the furthest thing from..in fact, you were nothing more than acquaintances months ago. Practically perfect strangers if you were being honest. But that all but changed when a bad thunderstorm trapped you at his place one night. The two of you had just finished up a project for work and as you were heading it out, it began raining and lightning. Naturally, in good faith, he couldn’t allow you to leave in those conditions. So instead, he gave you a warm place to lie your head for the night and his face to sit on..making you come more times than you had in a lifetime. He was an excellent lover and always made sure to talk you through your orgasms..even taking care of you long after the sex was finished. If your busy schedules had permitted it, you’d make this little affair something more permanent. But for now, you’d enjoy things for what they were and let him have his way. Moving his grasp from your fingers to that waist, holding you still as he thrusted up into you. Muffled grunts escaping his throat..tossing his head back from the pings of pleasure exerting through that lower half. Twitching…throbbing while pounding your pussy. Molding you to his shape to ensure you’d want no one else but him inside of it when he finished..and that there was no other woman for him except (y/n) . Which he’d spend every waking second until the sunrise proving.

“Fuck..I swear I’ll always come back to you, baby. Always gonna be yours.”

593 notes · View notes

seuonji · 8 months

Text

彡 as long as you're here, i can endure it. — yoon jeonghan

—office worker au! desk neighbour jeonghan.

notes ๑ gn!reader. oneshot. alt title: 9-5 jobs suck

genre ๑ fluff to angst.

warnings ๑ smoking (i don’t support smoking but it’s for the plot.)

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

the agonising sound of keyboard clicks, printers printing, and overlapped conversations rang in your ear. overwhelmed, you curled into your arms and let out a distressed exhale. you covered your ears and for a while it was tranquil.

only for a while.

“ynnnn let’s go for a smoke,” your desk neighbour, yoon jeonghan casually tugged at your sleeve without looking away from his screen. one of his hands held his cigarette pack and a lighter. even with the bulk, he was still typing like he normally would. you squinted your eyes at his laid-back nuance but did not have the energy to point out his weird skill.

you took a peek to your screen and it seemed like a good time to take a break anyway so you fulfilled his demands and got up from your seat. you waited and adjusted your clothes, standing beside jeonghan who was finishing up to his goal.

"alright, let's go!" he practically jumped out of his seat after saving his work.

as you reached your designated smoking spot which was just the rooftop of the building, you embraced the breeze that greeted you. you held onto the railings and looked down at the semi-dead street, wishing you were down there catching a taxi that was headed to home.

jeonghan plucked two cigarettes from the pack and positioned one in between your lips. he sparked a flame and lit his cigarette before leaning closer to you. he held your chin and as the tips of your cigarette touched, your cigarette ignited.

“9-5 jobs suck,” you exhaled expressing your disdain for your current life situation. “did someone not warn you beforehand?” jeonghan chuckled before continuing, “i think even pre-schoolers know that.”

“i'm probably just tired of how works getting repetitive," you sighed before turning to him and asking, “how are you holding on?“

“i’m fine, i really don't mind this line of work,” he took another puff, eyes squinted because of the sun targeting his face.

“really? i would've suspected that you'd hate this job more than me."

he seemed taken aback by your statement, "do you know me enough to assume things like that?"

you pouted defeatedly and nodded in agreement. he had a point, your 'relationship' with him had only begun a few months ago and there was only so much you could know about him.

you and jeonghan were the newest employees of the company who had started on the same day. overtime when you started to get comfortable working there, you coincidentally ran into him on the roof. both of you knew you were there for the same reasons.

since then you two have gotten closer. you two would only rely on each other, even occasionally grabbing lunch together on your accord but most of all you two always spent your breaks smoking together.

“just assuming from what i’ve observed so far,” you answered, pinching the smoke in between your fingers.

“you’ve been observing me?” he said cheekily.

“barely,” you sternly say while rolling your eyes.

he was humored by your expression. moving closer, he closed the distance between you and him and leaned on the railing right by you. his shoulder grazed against yours and you jolted at the sudden physical contact but tried to hide your reaction.

you cleared your throat to fill the silence, “so, what do you like about this dreadful 9-5?”

“well...it’s a bit flexible in terms of schedule. the food in the cafeteria sucks though and the people in our unit are kinda incompetent, except for me of course. the air conditioning system is quite good but it gets stuffy at times. another thing, they seriously need to upgrade the machines and technology, the printer keeps jamming on me—“

you softly smacked his arm cutting him off, “you are describing it how a person who hates this job would.”

he sneered as he looked off into the distance as if he was in a movie. he had a slight grin on his face as he truly answered your question,

“i don’t mind this job because i met you in the process."

you were in the middle of taking a drag from your cigarette when he said that. caught off guard by his words, you profusely started to choke on the smoke. “yn? you good??” he worriedly called your name and patted your back, as if that would help.

“i’m good—” you said in between coughs. "do you want me to get your water?" he bent down to your level, still patting your back.

“it's okay, we’ve got to get back to work anyways," you weakly said as you walked towards the exit door.

you faced your colleague and kept up an energy despite your throat literally dying from the inside, "come on now, i’ll make fun of you if you work overtime again," you joked, silently changing the subject.

he shook his head in disbelief and laughed as he walked towards you.

you threw your cigarette into the ashtray and opened the door to the stairs. jeonghan followed behind you disposing his cigarette before placing his hands into his pockets.

as you both settled down at your desks, you shared a smile with him before silently getting immersed in your work. in spite of that, some parts of you drifted into thought.

on your side, you thought that if you knew any less, you would've assumed jeonghan had feelings for you with the way he worded that answer. it wasn’t possible, he meant it in the friendship way, right?

on jeonghan's side, he was a bit disappointed, he thought today was the day he could finally confess. maybe he should’ve been a bit more direct, or was it too soon?

overall he didn’t fret much, he gets it if it was a topic you weren’t ready for. for now, as long as he had you as his desk buddy who would smoke with him in any given moment, that was enough for him. sooner or later, he knew he could eventually work his way up to being something more than someone who just smokes and gossips with you.

that was what he thought, until he saw your phone one day. he happened to glance at it when it was near his side. it had just received a notification from a sender under the name, “shua” followed by a pink heart. he even caught a glimpse of your smile when your eyes saw the notification.

suddenly, everything in the world clicked but for jeonghan, everything had shattered.

「shua💓: hi my love! i’ll be home early today, what do you wanna have for dinner tonight?」

205 notes · View notes

piichuu · 8 months

Text

♡ THE ONE AND ONLY CUPID - SAY SORRY

SEPTEMBER 15TH

7:18pm

“why have you two been fighting?” you ask the boy beside you who’s head is resting against your shoulder. his arm is wrapped around your waist and he plants a few kisses to your cheek every once in a while. “he was the one who made the cupid post about us, he owns the cupid account too but i already knew that. i didn’t know he made the post himself though.”

your eyes widen by the sudden confession. his best friend is the one who made the post? so this is like the panda, yuta and maki situation all over again, but this time you’re included. megumi sighs and looks at you, pulling you closer to him. “i got mad at him, maybe more than i should’ve. but he’s coming over now to explain himself,” he says and kisses your jaw. “do you feel comfortable being here? i don’t want to force you to stay.”

“no it’s fine, i wanna hear his side of the story, you should listen to him too. you have the right to be mad but wait showing it until he’s finished speaking,” you brush your fingers through his dark hair as he nods and leans into your warm touch. “i will, i’m calm now.”

you smile softly and lean in to kiss his lips, but there’s a sudden knock on the door and megumi gets up in an instant, already knowing who it is. he makes his way towards the door and takes a deep breath before opening it. yuji’s voice can be heard as soon as it’s opened.

megumi doesn’t say much as yuji walks further into the dorm and notices you, giving you a wave with a smile on his face. “hi y/n! how are you doing?” he asks while sitting down on the bed as megumi does the same, moving close to you. “i’m good yuji, how are you?” you reflect his smile.

“good as well! i should probably talk to you two though, i feel a little bad,” he sighs as he looks towards megumi to see his facial expression, but it stays neutral as he looks at his friend. “so, i’m the one who wrote that ship post about you two over a month ago.”

you nod in acknowledgement as yuji is now looking down at his hands, suddenly seeming nervous, something you’ve never seen before. “i know it wasn’t good of me to do that, i thought i was helping megumi because he’s never had a girlfriend and he’s always so cold towards everyone. i thought someone like you would be able to cheer him up, but i shouldn’t have written that post. it would’ve been better if i talked to megumi privately instead and i know that now…”

yuji glances up at you two for a quick second before continuing. “i’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable with that post and not telling you earlier. i wasn’t being a good friend and i’m sorry,” he speaks and you give him a slight smile, megumi’s expression stays the same however, not giving yuji any indication about how he feels.

you nudge his shoulder slightly, trying to get him to say something as his friend seems to finish explaining himself. megumi sighs quietly but looks towards yuji. “i wish you would’ve done it another way, but i guess you can’t take it back now and at least i’m glad me and y/n are together now. so i forgive you,” he mumbles and yuji’s face immediately lights up as he gets up from the bed and rushes over to megumi to give him a hug.

the two hug for a good while, yuji not seeming to want to let go. you swear you can almost see tears in his eyes and they only seem to increase as megumi sniffles. “i’m sorry for being mean to you, yuji. i was mad but i know you just wanted to help. me and y/n probably wouldn’t have began talking if it wasn’t for you,” he admits and yuji strokes his back while trying to keep his own tears away from falling.

you watch as they hold onto each other before yuji eventually pulls away and looks towards you. “can i hug you too?” you nod and move over towards him so he can pull you in for a hug as well. “thank you for looking after him, i’m so glad he’s happy.”

he pulls away after a bit and wipes his eyes, taking a deep breath before clasping his hands together. “can i maybe eat some food now? i’m still hungry and my fridge is still empty,” he asks and megumi rolls his eyes but nods, allowing his friend to rummage through the fridge you stocked up a few days ago to make sure your boyfriend had food at his place.

you look over at megumi who’s wiping the tears away from his cheeks. “are you feeling okay now? that wasn’t so bad,” you place a kiss to his cheek and he nods, flashing you a sweet smile before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to his chest. “much better, everything feels better now.”

TWENTY FIVE | MASTERLIST | TWENTY SEVEN

PAIRING: fushiguro megumi x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: itadori yuji is behind the account “the one and only cupid” where others in tokyo can anonymously ship two people they think should get together. what happens when you’re suddenly shipped with fushiguro megumi whom you’ve never talked to before and why do you all of a sudden have to see him in the school hallway every single day?

WARNINGS: none i think

TAG LIST (CLOSED): @krissyoxox @kaitfae @kitorin @mysuperrainbow @tojirin @hanmasdolly @kasumitenbaz @yuzurins @tsukishimarawr @stardusthyuck @satoruskitchenrag @lvryeager @hellothere9597 @pumpkindudeishere @dailyghosting @chillichopsticks @jaynawayna @mave-in @hisheadismountfuji @whatamidoing89 @flwrdia @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @usermins @marga-j @kennmaii @rintarousgirl @moonmalice @matchablossomsss @saiewithakatana @adhdduckie @bluekryptonitepatrol @saturn-alone @theweirdfloatything @7haze @buggy-cj @giannitaa @itoshiexx @aeongiies @becsmarvel @sukisprettyface @haitani-22 @mellozhi @satoryaa @ris-krispie @coastalll @jjkwritingss @rijhi @nerdybananabeliever @yourmumsthings @jtoddwife

183 notes · View notes

blackbat05 · 28 days

Text

Welcome to Bucky's

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Plot: Welcome to Bucky's, where there's good food and an even better listening ear.

Genre: PG-13 (Warnings: Mentions of PTSD)

A/N: Self-indulgent yet again but I needed it. Not much of romance, more of a comfort piece. I still hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it on a whim!

The bell rings, signaling a new customer. James Barnes, or Bucky as most of his long-time customers liked to call him exited the kitchen to greet them.

"Hi! Welcome to Bucky's. Take a seat, and I'll be right with you."

The customer, a woman dressed in a navy blue shirt and black pants settles at the corner of the cafe, beside the window overlooking the boardwalk. The cafe was usually empty at this time but it felt as if the woman wanted to make herself invisible with each passing minute as she presses herself further back into the cushion.

Bucky decides to give the woman a couple of minutes before approaching to take her order. Her voice is soft but with a certain hoarseness to it. She orders a salmon rice bowl and jasmine tea and turns her attention back to the waves crashing on the beach.

She's quiet but polite as she smiles when Bucky comes to collect her empty bowl. Bucky wonders what ails this woman who has a forlorn look on her face as she sips the tea. He thinks of how to strike a friendly conversation without overstepping boundaries when-

"I'm sorry, I've been sitting here for too long have I?"

Bucky glances at the apologetic woman. "Not at all. The view is certainly wonderful at this time of the hour. It's why I moved here to set up my cafe."

"It's amazing indeed." She agrees. "What did you do before that?"

Bucky is surprised by the woman starting the conversation. Still, he was curious to know more about her and this was a perfect way to continue. "I served. Got out a couple of years back."

"Thank you for your service. It must not have been easy, the transition." She states as a matter of fact.

In normal circumstances, Bucky would have brushed the person aside. What do they know about serving in the army? They're not the ones having nightmares and having to live with the trauma!

But in this moment, he felt appreciated. The woman clearly had a story of her own that led her to Bucky's.

Without prompting, the woman reveals that although she did not serve in the army, she worked for the community. It was her dream, her everything when she finally achieved her position after years of hard work.

Or so she thought.

As the days went by, the emotional weight of others that she had to carry became too much for her to bear. Her resolved crumbled and from that moment onwards, she spent her waking days walking and living aimlessly. That was six months ago.

"I got a job. I start on Monday." She tells him. It's a library assistant at the local library further down the beach. It may not be the most glamorous job, but it was decent and she was okay with being decent. Better than where she was.

"That's great." Bucky congratulates the woman.

"I guess I'm just scared." She confesses and Bucky finally understands the reason for the worries that she had carried onto her back while walking into the cafe. "I don't want to make the same mistakes again."

Bucky frowns, and the woman finishes the last bit of her tea.

"You can make mistakes."

The woman stares at him blankly.

"You can afford to make mistakes. That's how we learn isn't it?" Bucky clarifies. "And don't hold onto what you did, focus on how you got out of it."

Her lips part as she observes Bucky in amazement.

"Take it from a guy who's fought in too many battles to count. Life's too short to worry about not living up to standards. Be imperfect. Be you."

Bucky stands up and goes behind the counter to retrieve a cookie. He places the bag of cookie into her hands. "For good luck. I believe that you can do it."

"Thank you. I really needed that. I don't know how things will turn out, but I'll try." The woman thanks as she prepares to leave. The door opens and she stops in her tracks midway.

"My name's Y/N. Feel free to drop by the library anytime. You know, so that I can return the favor." She jokes.

"Bucky. Thanks for the offer." He laughs. The woman exits the cafe and heads in the direction of the boardwalk before disappearing from sight.

The back door to the disposal area opens and Sam Wilson walks in, unaware of what had just transpired.

"Hey Buck! Sarah just sent over some scones and they're delicious!" He made himself comfortable behind the counter. "How about you put it on this month's special?" Sam passes Bucky the box. "Though Sarah said that she learnt the recipe from a book. Can't find it anywhere else on the internet. It has to be that book! Darn bakers and their exact measurements."

Bucky smiles to himself, earning a sidelong glance from his best friend.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing."

A book huh? It seems that Bucky would see her much sooner than expected...

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes comfort #sebastian stan

59 notes · View notes

reqxxyt · 1 year

Text

the regrets i never made

pairings: pierre g. x f!reader

warnings: breakup, attempting at writing angst, cursing

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Fuck you. Just fuck you Pierre.”

“Fine. Just leave like everyone else” he shut you down and you stopped in your tracks, turning to meet his hard gaze as tears threatened to fall through your glare.

“Do not put the blame on me for trying to fix this. To fix us” you made a movement to indicate the two of you. Your voice softened as a single tear fell “I have tried so hard to repair what was broken for so long. I’m sorry Pierre but I can’t stay”

His silence was enough of a response to turn and leave, with nothing but a cracked heart and a headache.

“Y/n?” His voice brought me back to the present, pulling me from all past memories that were drowned for so long. I hadn’t turned, too scared that I wasn’t hearing things and he was actually here. But then I felt the rain that was pouring on me a second ago coming to a full stop and lifted my head seeing a black umbrella, the one I had let him borrow all those years ago.

I finally turned, so slow that I could feel cars beside us spring by, splashing some water onto my shoes. I paid attention to anything but the person who had given me everything I knew for so long, the person I had broken myself for.

“I thought I recognized you” His voice was so soft, eyes looking apologetic wanting to spring out so many questions with curiosity lingering on the top of his tongue. “How- how have you been?”

“Good” was the only word I could say, it was true. I had rebuilt my life with the help of my singular friend and now I felt the happiest I’ve ever felt. Just like the first couple of months of my, and Pierre's relationship, vulnerable and naive can do that to a girl. I reciprocated the same question although I didn’t put much care into my tone.

“Good as well” He bit his lip feeling the need to mention something else. “I thought I would never see you”

I had hoped I would never see him, afraid I would run back into his arms, begging to come back but instead I look at him and feel pleased with myself. Although I didn’t say it back then, having cut him off completely, I wished him the best.

My gaze dropped down, paying more interest to my torn soaking shoes than him right now. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked, almost blurted out but he said it with such a gentle tone, okay with the idea of me not responding but I did anyway,

“I thought I would” I summarized my rant, blinking back upwards to him hearing the rain from the umbrella stop as the sun started to glare down forcing me to squint my eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, not completely understanding my response, “I missed the memories, the good ones at least but not so much the way you treated me like a girlfriend of convenience”

This time, his gaze dropped down still having the umbrella upwards although there was no longer any rain pouring down, only dropplets that ran down the umbrella. With almost no hesitation, I lifted my hand and held the umbrella pushing it to the side. Normally my insides would flip at the simple touch of his finger but now I felt calm, at ease, as I took my hand away, bringing it back to my side as his eyes trailed them before coming back to make eye contact.

“Have a good one Pierre” I said before turning filling my jacket pockets with my hands as I forced one foot in front of another, every step feeling heavier than the last, walking down the sidewalk. I could't look back. I shouldn't. I only hung my head high no matter how much I wanted to drag it to the side to peak if he was still there but my mind forced me to keep walking.

As I walked down the barely lighted ally, with pouring rain dripping only the outside of my rain jacket as I held tightly onto the holding of umbrella afraid it’ll fly away from the strong breeze. I had just finished my last final of college and desperately wanted to eat, but most restaurants hid in the alley. Not very creepy.

A figure caught my eye as I was about to pass it, it was huddled onto the side of the ally curled to almost a ball being poured rain, my heart pained from the sight hating seeing anyone be poured rain on. I debated internally before walking up to him already adjusting the hood of my rain jacket to cover my hair.

Without saying a word, I shifted the umbrella to cover his head instead of my own. The guy's eyes trailed from my shoes, moving upward until catching eye contact with my own. His eyes narrowed and I asked myself internally if I had just made the stupidest decision.

“Taking pity on me?” he asked, scrunching up his nose and I immediately shook my head not wanting it to seem that way.

“No, of course not. Would just hate to see you get sick” I responded, stumbling over my words and I only got a half-lifted smile, amused over my excuse. “Here take it” I offered the umbrella and he refused, standing and I just now realized his height, analyzing his features, the one that struck me the most in this half-light ally were his colored eyes, which told so much yet held nothing. I had a sudden feeling to want to know everything about him.

“If you care so much about me getting potentially sick, you should take care of me then” He shrugged hoping to get a reaction out of me but I stood still, blankly staring at his eyes. I heard my stomach grumble beneath me, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks.

“I think I would much rather eat,” I said, handing the umbrella over giving him no choice but to accept it. He chuckled as I headed down to get food, not caring much about my 5 dollar worth umbrella.

The next morning, I spotted him at a coffee shop alone but I didn’t approach him, instead, he approached me. He asked me out on a date and promised to give back my umbrella as a trade. Instead of accepting it that night, I kept ‘forgetting’ about it every date that passed and it soon just became his.

#pierre gasly #f1 #f1 x you #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x y/n #reader insert #formula 1 #pierre gasly x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly imagine #fluff

233 notes · View notes

kedsandtubesocks · 9 months

Text

Dragon!Gojo? Anyone ask for dragon!gojo? Just me? Okay that’s fair

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

He is considered to be one of the fiercest creatures that has ever roamed the earth or taken to the skies in over a century.

The snowy white dragon with the sharpest blue eyes as if the sky itself has been captured in them.

And those same eyes are watery pools staring into the window of your cabin.

You never would have believed dragons could whine until you met one that did.

He currently whines like an oversized puppy. Except the growls could be mistaken for something terrifying. The sad rumbling rattles the glass of the window and it gets even worse when his snout presses against it harder.

“You can’t come in, you know this.” You firmly tell him as you finish grinding up the last bit of herbs you need for his healing tea remedy.

The growling whine only comes stronger. The leaves of your poor plants sitting on your windowsill shake with his tantrum.

“Be patient.” You urge the creature that has overshadowed your life since that fateful morning you woke up and found this dragon outside your cabin.

Various slices and cuts had ravaged his body. He bled so heavily from all the wounds over his body that he looked like a soaked red rag. He could barely open his eyes. When you saw the great beast of the sky, heaving in pain like a wounded animal, instead of being terrified your body moved on its own to the dragon without even thinking.

That was months ago.

Now, here the great beast sits outside your cabin whining like a pouting child. The moment you open the door, step outside into the warm morning, he rushes to you.

“If you make me spill this I’m not making you another one!” You scold him but it’s too late. The dragon’s muzzle shoves against your face and he rubs against you.

Dragons, you have discovered, purr. Your white cloud beast purrs as he curls against you, pure scales covered power trying to soak in your attention truly like a cat.

“Alright, alright.” You laugh weakly patting the side of his face.

“Come on, tea time.” Tea time is what you called this time of day now.

In the mornings, you give the great beast his healing tea concoction while you sip your own. You and him also share splitting various fruits you pick up from the vendor in town. He always managed to steal from your plate that you’ve had to swat him away a few times.

After you had healed the extensive surface injuries, you thought that would be all the dragon needed. Until blood began to spill from his piercing blue eyes, turning them into crimson soaked rivers. That’s when you discovered the internal injuries your dragon had sustained were horrifying.

It’s why he stayed longer that what you expected. And truly it was because you found your quiet existence blooming more than ever before.

Once he was able to walk, your dragon stayed by your side constantly. When you did laundry by the stream, he would splash water at you with his tail. He often playfully bit at your blouses to make you trip or to keep you closer to him. Now that he was almost fully healed, your snowy dragon now would sit in front of your door to block you and he did so with a wide almost pleased toothy grin.

He annoyed you to no end. But you don’t want him to leave.

You know his internal wounds are practically healed. Any moment now he could fly away back to where he belonged. And this thought of him leaving makes a poisonous ache seep into your bones.

A deep rumble floats into the air. Before you can turn to look at him, the dragon slowly lowers his head onto your lap. His eyes are closed peacefully as he rest so quietly and content. Something sharpened in sadness pierces your heart.

You can’t even stop yourself. You body again moves on its own and you lower yourself down to rest ontop of the dragons horned head.

The horns, the sharp fangs, his dangerous talons, they all speak of the terrifying power this creature holds. But you wonder if now there is something so tender in the monstrous?

“You’re going to be all healed up soon. You probably can even head home.” You begin softly, quietly against the soft breeze of the early morning.

Your dragon remains silent, not that he could talk to begin with. But he does not respond with any of his typical playful noises or annoyed growls. Instead he simply burrows stronger against your midsection and you wonder if he realizes it too.

His must leave eventually. It’s why you stand up in silence and gather all the various bowls and cups to place them inside.

When you walk back outside - your dragon is gone.

The grassy lot in front of your cabin is empty. Gone without a goodbye, without a warning. Something inside of you quietly collapses on itself, a small decayed rumble that leaves your body hollow.

It’s still morning. Yet all you can do is return into your cabin, crawl on top of your bed’s quilt and close you’re eyes as tears silently leak out.

You wait to see if he returns the rest of the day. He doesn’t. When you wake up the next day, the ache inside of you feels worse.

You decide to head to town to see if leaving your little cabin, your little carved out world, will help ease your heartbreak. Because that is what this feels like, a form of heartache you can’t even describe.

You browse the fruit stand and think of maybe buying yourself a few items to brighten your day. However, you also think of tea time with your dragon. He favored sweeter fruits like melon slices. For some reason you unthinkingly reach for that fruit out of habit.

That’s when your hand brushes against another.

It jolts you out of your thoughts and you spiral into a slight embarrassment for not paying attention. You quickly turn to the side to apologize.

That’s when you find a man beside you.

He’s unbelievably handsome. He looks like something out of a dream or myth with striking white hair. A strange blindfold covers his eyes. Then he slowly raises the black fabric up to reveal one of his eyes.

A beautiful shimmering sky stares down at you.

“Oh?” The man speaks and his voice is smooth, but peaked with an enigmatic curiosity. “Are these your favorites too?”

He grins at you wide and for some reason -

You’re reminded of the same fang filled grin your snowy dragon gave you.

#IM SORRY 🤡#I know there’s a whole joke I can make about him being a blue eyes white dragon but also…a dragon GOJO OOF #okay that’s all I’m sorry again #Gojo 🩵#dragon!gojo #long post

117 notes · View notes

chrisbitchtree · 8 months

Text

It may be my birthday, but I have a little gift for you all instead! Enjoy!

***

Billy knows that Steve’s love for him is unconditional, just like his love for Steve is. He also knows that Steve doesn’t need big shiny tokens of Billy’s affection to feel that love.

He likes simple things. Home cooked dinners, massages, Billy’s hand knitted scarves for Christmas every year, all carefully tucked away in their own special drawer when not in use.

That never stops Billy from trying to do the most possible every year for Steve’s birthday. Take, for example, Steve’s 21st, the last birthday before they moved out of Hawkins, heading west, when Billy planned a massive scavenger hunt that took Steve to all their special places, or his 25th, when Billy had convinced him he’d tone down the birthday plans for once, only to have Robin and Dustin fly in from New York, where they were both going to school at the time, for the occasion. They’d went to a Dodgers game, then to dinner and a karaoke bar, and had the time of their lives.

This year, Billy was planning to bigger than ever, literally, with a chocolate cake comprised of ten small tiers. Three months ago, Billy had bought a ring, planning to ask Steve a question on his 30th birthday that he should have asked him long ago. They’ve talked about taking the next step together plenty of times, but it’s just never happened, so Billy’s taking his chance now.

The plan is to construct such a ridiculous cake that Steve’ll think that’s the big surprise, and he’ll never see the proposal coming. The idea to put the ring in the cake comes later, when Billy thinks of his childhood birthdays, his mom baking coins into the cake for him to find.

What’s stopping him from wrapping the ring in tinfoil and baking it into the top tier? It turns out nothing is, so he does it, proud of his genius when all the layers come out perfectly. You’d never be able to tell that there was an engagement ring in one of them.

That becomes a problem when Billy loses track of which layer has the ring in it. He’s sure it’s the one cooling next to the sink, but it could also be the one cooling on the table, or one of the ones on the coffee table.

He finally decides it has to be the one next to the stove. It has to be. He’s sure of it after lifting them all, trying to detect the little bit of added weight.

He frosts the cake, pleased with how perfectly straight it is, then he showers and gets dressed. Steve unfortunately works on his birthday this year, so Billy picks him up and they head to the restaurant from there.

He tries to act normal through dinner, but his palms are sweating and his heart is beating fast from a combination of nerves about proposing and fear that the ring isn’t in the top layer.

Thankfully Steve doesn’t seem to notice, focusing instead on the delicious mashed potatoes and the couple at the next table who may or may not be breaking up right in front of them. It’s a welcome distraction.

They get home, refrigerating the leftovers, and Billy pulls out the cake. Steve oohs and ahhs at the height of it before blowing out the candles and giving Billy a kiss of thanks.

Billy serves Steve the topmost layer and himself the one below and waits. And waits some more. Waits until Steve finishes the whole small layer.

Either Steve’s playing it really cool right now or Billy’s royally fucked things up. He looks at Steve’s empty plate, then at the remaining eight layers.

Before he can think of what to do, Steve speaks, taking Billy’s hand in his own. “Thank you so much, babe. I know every year I tell you not to do anything big and every year you don’t listen, and I should know that by now, but you somehow still manage to surprise me. You’re the best partner that a man could ever ask for.”

Oh god, Steve’s now slipping down onto the floor on one knee, still holding onto Billy’s hand.

“You’re kind, funny, compassionate, and incredibly thoughtful. We’ve been to hell and back and I’m so glad we’ve been through each other’s sides by all of it. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else.”

Now he’s reaching into his pocket. Oh no, this couldn’t be going any worse. But it also couldn’t be going any better. Steve wants to marry him! He wants to spend his life with Billy!

“Billy, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

Billy nods, tears springing to his eyes as Steve slips the beautiful black band onto Billy’s finger. Then, the laughter starts as Steve stands up and kisses him. He giggles helplessly against Steve’s lips.

Steve pulls back and looks at Billy questioningly, a smile on his face. “What’s so funny, babe?”

Billy just laughs harder, having to take a couple minutes to compose himself before he can respond. Finally, he can speak. “Soooo, I really fucked things up today. There’s a ring for you somewhere in that cake, wrapped in tinfoil. I thought it would be such a great surprise to have you find it in your piece of cake. But then I lost track of what layer it’s in. I was going to have our friends over tomorrow to celebrate our engagement and eat the rest of the cake, but now the plan’s all ruined because I’m an idiot.”

Steve laughs, pulling Billy into a hug and kissing his cheek. “You’re not an idiot, babe. That was incredibly sweet of you, and I can definitely say I’m still surprised! Can you grab me one of the shish-kabob skewers from the kitchen.”

Billy’s confused, but does what he says, returning quickly with it.

Steve takes it from him and starts sliding it down through the layers, and fuck, why didn’t Billy think of that? It doesn’t take him long at all to find it, and they carefully lift the layers on top of the one it’s hiding in before cutting it out.

And now they each have a ring, a symbol of their love for each other, and a funny story to tell to boot. In retrospect, this night couldn’t have gone any better if Billy had tried.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #chrisbitchtree writes #my fic #happy birthday to me!

73 notes · View notes

stratossphere · 1 year

Text

feral | v.v

ville’s trying to read emails and you’re…bored.

warnings: smut, masturbation, voyeurism, daddy kink, finger sucking, fingering, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking, reader has a “slight” breeding kink, ville is pretty dom in this one

word count: 5.9k

a/n: in celebration of neon noir…i present to you the horniest thing i have ever written. this one is…a lot

— —

Having a funny, charismatic, deliciously handsome rockstar boyfriend was hard. First, for obvious reasons, such as his long seasons of touring or his drinking habit, but second, and more importantly, the fact that you literally could not contain your level of horniness around him. Ever.

And that was currently manifesting itself in the fact that he was working, and completely ignoring you whilst you were resisting the urge to shove his hand in your pants.

But that didn't mean you couldn't bother him just a little bit in the face of his ignoring. That he had grown to have to deal with, and wouldn't really respond much to anyways.

As he read through all the emails he had been ignoring while on tour on your laptop that he was borrowing for that exact purpose, you gently took his free hand that was currently resting on the edge of the laptop and placed it on your thigh, keeping your eyes on him as his vision scanned quickly over each line of text on his screen.

And of course, he did nothing but absentmindedly pull his hand away, going right back onto the laptop as he finished clicking through the links that HIM's manager had sent him a month ago. On one hand, it was sweet to know that he always answered your emails when you sent them within a matter of hours at most, but on the other hand you were thinking about how annoying he would be if you were ever forced to manage him.

You waited a few minutes, leaning your leg a little closer to him before you pulled his hand back again, this time setting it on your inner thigh and holding it there with your hand over his. This time, when he tried to pull his hand away, he couldn't, and you saw him glance at you for a split second.

"Y/n." He mumbled your name irritatedly, his voice barely audible. Despite his warning, his hand relaxed on your leg, and when you took your hand off of him, he didn't move it. Mission accomplished.

Your next move, which was definitely bound to earn you more than a warning, was pushing his hand right between your legs, letting out a soft whine as you did so. And, true to your assumptions, you were immediately met with a sharp inhale and Ville's venomous stare in your direction.

"Stop it." And then his hand was pulled away once again. You frowned, because why the hell did he always have to be so hardheaded? before instead resting your chin on his shoulder and pretending you were focused on his screen along with him.

"Why?" Dragging out the word, you watched as his frown deepened by tenfold, a deep sigh escaping him as he clicked into a new email. Which, funnily enough, was from Bam. And contained a picture of you and Ville making out on Bam's bed that you had taken on his camera that he used for filming because you were mad at him. It had text below it that said STOP TOUCHING MY FUCKING SHIT DOUCHEBAG. Ville snorted at the picture, whereas you just pouted even more because you wanted to be making out like that now. And there were several things you wanted to take pictures of the two of you doing at the moment that the image on his screen was only fueling your ideas on.

"Because I'm trying to fucking do something, and you can't contain your female urges." Ville replied after he'd finished laughing at the email, peeling your hand away where it had begun to creep towards him again. You lifted my head then, because the use of the phrase 'female urges' was not one you were a fan of.

"That's not a thing." If any gender had 'urges', it was definitely men. This was coming from the man that had once gotten you both kicked out of a party in Bam's hotel room because he wouldn't stop sticking his hand in your shirt.

"Yes it is. It's called uh...ovulating or something." He waved it off, going right back to his (your) computer screen and starting to type out a response to the email that Bam had sent three weeks ago. The end result was:

Ah, good times! Hope you enjoyed the crusty sheets, mate!

Love you Bam Bam xoxo

Embarrassingly enough, you were, in fact, ovulating. Not that you were ever going to let him know that knowing what he would do with the information, but it was a little funny in your own head. Ignoring his blatantly male take on women's hormones, you put your hand on his leg.

"I wanna play." You whined, pushing your hand up under the bottom of your laptop so that you could reach his inner thigh. Finally, after what felt like forever, you heard him exhale shakily at the touch.

"My fucking god, woman." He muttered, his hands pausing on the keyboard as you felt where he was definitely hard under the visual shield of the laptop. That lying bastard. "I think you'd be happy if all I did was let you watch me jerk off."

You perked up at that idea, because why the fuck hadn't you thought of that. Sure, you’d walked in on him with his hand down his pants more times than you could count, but you’d never explicitly watched him. When he saw the look on your face, he let out a scoff.

"Absolutely not." He was saying no, but he was also closing the laptop and setting it on the floor. You were already getting hot and bothered over the idea, so it was a little late for that, and you were immediately crawling into his lap as soon as he sat back up from putting the laptop down.

"Please? I wanna watch." You begged, cupping his cheek as you tried to plead your case. He shook his head, giving you a look like you were crazy.

"Hell no! I'm going to go soft if you're at my feet giving me the Kubrick stare!" He ridiculed, eyes trained more on the see-through material of your bra than your actual face as he spoke. You tilted his chin up towards you.

"I'll sit next to you. You don't even have to look at me." You were coming up with every solution you could think of (even though you would've loved to be Kubrick-staring him down from his feet), knowing he was only saying no because you were annoying him. "I'll be good. I promise."

"Y/n. Obviously if I'm fucking jerking it, I want to look at you. I just don't want you being...you." What a sweet and flattering thing to say to your girlfriend of many years. He clearly heard how he sounded, because he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What I mean by that is, if I let you sit at the edge of the bed so that I can look at you, you'll do something weird like touch my feet."

You would totally do something like that, but still a little offensive.

"I'll stay right here." You reassured, getting off of him and rolling to his side so that you were next to him but far enough away where he had room to work should he say yes. And, judging by the tent in his jeans, you had a feeling he was going to. A deep, heavy sigh came from beside you.

"At least strip down so I'm not just going with a dry imagination." He caved, and his eyes could not have physically rolled harder when you let out a cheer and immediately jumped off the bed to do so.

"You're the best. I love you so much." You celebrated as you stripped down what little clothes you still had on this late into the evening, watching as he got up to do the same whilst grumbling to himself. You smiled, because sometimes it was endearing just how much of a grump he could be.

"Yeah, you better, because I'm not doing this again." He muttered, eyes glued to you as you climbed back onto the bed despite his complaining. You watched him with hungry eyes as he finished slipping his jeans down his hips, mouth partially open at how hard he was already. You had no idea how he was able to be that aroused and yet give no sign of it. He was definitely a better man than you.

"Say it back." You let your tone raise to a whine yet again, opening your arms to him as he got ready to get back into bed with you. He sighed once again before doing so, accepting your embrace and shooting you another look.

"I love you. You fucking psycho." He pressed a kiss to your lips before turning onto his back, neck resting against the pillows as he released his breath and situated himself. "I can't believe I said yes to this."

"Relax. Not like you've never done it before." You said dryly, shooting him a look as he rested his hand on his stomach. Just to give him a little kick-off, you took your finger and began to trace the tattoo on his lower stomach, kissing at his neck as you did so and watching a bead of precum start to form at his slit. Too easy.

"Spit." He only let you tease for a little bit before he was pulling your hand away, holding his up in front of your mouth for you to spit into his palm. You grabbed his wrist, making eye contact with him before licking up his palm and then spitting wetly right in the center. The theatrics were just for fun, but he clearly liked it, because suddenly his lip was drawn between his teeth.

When he finally wrapped his now spit-slick hand around his cock he let out a low groan, head falling to the side slightly to rest against yours as he began to move his fist up and down.

If your camera wasn't packed away somewhere out of reach, you would've taken a picture of how he looked at that moment. The muscles of his abdomen were tensed tightly as he stroked his cock, his lip drawn between his teeth and his eyes partially hooded as he continued to let small sounds escape his throat.

"Fuck. You look so good, baby." You breathed as you kissed at his neck, sucking softly and watching as your mouth left marks on his pale skin. He would be pissed about it later, but he most likely didn't even notice now. "I don't know why we never did this before."

"Because I'd rather fuck you than my own fucking h-hand." He stuttered, his head tilting a little more before he was catching you in a kiss; his tongue swiping along your bottom lip as he basically devoured your mouth with his. You moaned softly as you watched his hand pick up its pace with his thumb sliding over his tip every so often.

"After this I want you inside me." You nipped at his neck just as you said it and listened to him actually moan in response, a grin curling its way onto your face in success at how affected he was by just your words. "I've been waiting for you to fuck me all day."

"Shut up or I'm gonna—" He broke off his own voice with another gasp, his hand moving at a desperate pace by this point with the precum that visibly slicked his entire cock from the stimulation of his palm. "Just be quiet or I'm gonna blow a load before I'm—before I'm ready."

You were perfectly okay with that, but you shut your mouth for his sake, instead pressing your lips to his shoulder and then beginning to work your way back up to his neck once more. You used tongue with each of your kisses, and you could tell he liked it with the soft moans that elicited from his lips with every kiss.

It took everything you had inside of you not to reach out and touch him like you so badly wanted to. Let alone put your mouth on him like you wanted to even more. You were exhibiting a lot of self restraint for how incredibly, painfully horny you were. However, talking wasn't touching, and you could only keep your mouth closed like he'd requested for so long.

"Let me call you daddy tonight, baby." Okay, so maybe you were purposely trying to get him to cum faster, but it was still a genuine question. He never agreed to let you call him daddy unless it was your birthday, but tonight he had said yes to something he would've usually said no to, so you were pushing your luck. And, low and behold, he let out a moan that you would've paid good money to make your ringtone, his head falling back against the wall.

"Ohh...fuck, whatever you want." He muttered, clearly too fucked out to actually listen to what you were saying. You moaned in his ear just to rile him up more, licking gently along the shell of it and listening to his shaky breathing. His hand on his cock had lost an even rhythm and was now pumping unevenly as he chased his own high, his moans coming in steady streams now as you kissed from his cheek down to the hollow of his throat. And, the finishing move:

"I wanna see you cum, daddy." You whined in his ear, sucking on the sweet spot just below his ear that always made him moan no matter where you were or what you were doing. He did exactly that, his voice going high and shaky as his hips jerked.

He groaned your name as he came, free hand shooting out to grip your thigh while his back arched just slightly. You continued to kiss and suck at his skin as his cum shot in ropes onto his stomach and hand, relishing in the sound of his ragged breathing as he slowly came down from his high.

"Fuck. I wanna do that every day." You breathed as you finally detached from his neck, a hint of a grin on your lips as his hand slowly moved to a stop on his cock. He just looked at you as you raised his hand towards your mouth, aiming to clean his fingers off.

"You're insane." He muttered, lip drawing back between his teeth as you sucked his fingers clean. He wanted to pretend that he wasn't a fan of your behavior, but his cheeks were flushed in arousal and you could see the way he was staring at you.

You hummed in agreement as you sucked gently at his fingertips, holding his intense stare as you let your hands trail softly away from his wrist. He then took his hand away, wiping the cum off of his stomach before pressing his fingers back to your lips.

"Good girl." He cooed at how easily you cleaned the rest of the cum from his fingers, eyes on fire as he watched you before grabbing your face gently once you took his fingers out of your mouth and rubbing his thumb across your lips. "What do you want, my love?"

"Fuck me raw from behind." You already knew the answer to that, because that's all you’d been thinking about for most of the day, and you immediately saw the way his lips dipped into a frown.

"No. No more going raw." He said firmly, gripping your chin a bit tighter and giving you a look that told me not to argue. You whined, getting around his grip and pressing kisses to his cheek as you took his hand and pressed it back between your legs where he'd taken it away before.

"Please! Do whatever you want to me." You pleaded, moaning as you finally felt him start to circle his fingers around your clit while he vehemently denied your request. He smirked, swiping his fingers through your pussy before he was slowly pushing two of them into you.

"You're like a fucking cat in heat, you know that? You always need more." He muttered as he began to curl his fingers into you, pressing them in and out painfully slowly in a clear attempt to rile you up. "And I'd be careful telling me I can do whatever I want to you."

"Do whatever you want. I need you." You whimpered, voice coming out shaky and stuttered as your head spun with the pleasure of his fingers inside of you. He caught your lips with his, humming against the kiss as he slowed the pace of his fingers even more just to be an asshole.

"So, I can edge you until you're crying and begging?" He proposed, cockiness filling his tone as he stilled his fingers inside of you. You let out a huff, looking at him fully and showing your displeasure for the level of teasing he was putting you through from someone who apparently had a lot of work to do.

"Ville." You begged him frustratedly, not knowing quite what you were asking of him but knowing that he could take the hint regardless. He watched you closely as he began to push his fingers back into you again, still going slow but bringing that hum of pleasure back despite the torturous pace.

"If you would shut the fuck up and lay there like a good girl, then I would stop teasing." He finally seemed to lose his patience, and his free hand came out to shove your hips down where they'd been beginning to come off the bed. Your mouth immediately slammed shut, head turned in his direction as you tried to meet his fiery glare without shivering. When you didn't speak, he tutted. "You'd do anything if it meant I'd fuck you, wouldn't you?"

Whew. After this was done, and you were in a different setting, he was going to get his ass kicked for this. You knew he was completely right, and you were 100% pliant under his touch at that moment, but he didn't need to point it out.

When, once again, you didn't respond due to the fact that you were too busy moaning as he increased the pace of his fingers, he cooed at you and pressed a kiss to your jaw.

"You're so beautiful." He mumbled, grinning against your skin as your arm came up to wrap around his while still giving his hand room to move. "I love you."

You would've replied, but just as he said it he pulled his fingers out of you, instead causing you to gasp in both surprise and disappointment as you watched him stick his fingers right into his mouth. This man was going to drive you insane.

"Bend over at the edge of the bed. And take your hair down." He said after he'd finished vulgarly sucking his fingers clean, snapping his fingers for you to hurry up and then looking at you expectantly. Still reeling from the feeling of his fingers, it took you a second to comprehend what he'd just said to you, but once it clicked, you immediately sat up and detangled yourself from him.

"Why do I need to put my hair down?" You’d had it in a mess clipped up on your head considering it was getting long enough to where Ville always accidentally laid on it and yanked the shit out of your skull, and you weren't sure you wanted it all over in the position you were about to be in. He just looked at you.

"Because I said so." Ooh, you loved it when he said that. You watched him get up where you were still on your knees at the edge of the bed before you quickly yanked your hair clip out of your hair and got into the position that he'd so politely requested. You felt a bit of exposure with how baring your position was and how voraciously his eyes were eating you alive, but it was immediately soothed by his hand trailing up your thigh. "Every time you call me daddy, I'm going to put a fucking handprint on your ass."

"What? Why?" What was the point of saying yes if he was just going to torture you along with it? Although, obviously you weren't going to object, because you were too turned on to care, but still. He spanked hard.

"Once again, because I said so. If you keep asking me fucking why, I'll start early." His hand smoothed over your ass and squeezed harshly, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as, once again for your best interest, you shut your mouth. He stilled his hand. "I didn't say you couldn't do it. I just told you what will happen if you do."

"Okay." You found the strength in your extremely fucked-out state to respond to him because you knew he was expecting it, and melted a little more when you felt his other hand come up on your hip.

"Test it out." He was going to put you into cardiac arrest. Seriously. You re-shifted the weight of your body onto your elbows to look back at him, a 'stop fucking with me before I kill you' look on your face, only to be met with an expectant raise of his eyebrows and silence. You bit at your lip.

"Please fuck me, daddy. I need to feel you." You were getting a little desperate, sure, but if he wanted to play games, you could play games. As you said it, you arched your back a little more and wiggled your hips, trying to entice him in the best way you knew how. However, as soon as the words were out of your mouth, you felt the burning sting of his hand coming down on your asscheek, a loud slap echoing throughout his bedroom as he smacked your ass. You let out a sharp cry at the feeling, at which he just groaned along with.

"After this, no more asking to go raw. You won't get my cock in you for a long time if you whine about it again." Ville ordered, massaging your ass and letting his fingernails drag over your skin as he spoke to ignite the sting even more.

Excitement coursed through you, and just as you were getting ready to start really begging, met with the precipice of sacrificing another spank in lieu of calling him daddy once again, you finally felt him line himself up at your entrance.

You moaned loudly as he quickly pushed into you, hitting every nerve he'd been aggravating with his fingers only a couple minutes before with an iron grip on your hip. He didn't give you much time to adjust, clearly on his own set pace as he began to thrust his cock into you while strained gasps rose in your throat over and over again.

And then, to add onto it, you suddenly felt Ville's hand behind you, and then your head was being pulled back with tension in your scalp that told you he had his fingers gripped into your hair. That explained asking you to let it down.

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight." Ville groaned as he began to snap his hips into you with a force that had you gripping the sheets for some form of stability, using both his grip on your hip and his hold on your hair to pull you back harshly on his cock.

"Ville." You whined, wanting to bury your face in the sheets but unable to due to the fact that he was still pulling your hair. You yelped as you felt another smack to your ass.

"That's not my name. Get it fucking right." He snapped, his voice coming out strong and steady despite how hard he was fucking you. You tried to speak through your moans, taking a second before you were even able to find your voice due to the fact that you knew what was coming once you did.

"Daddy. Feels so good." Your voice came out hoarse and shaky, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes as you cried out again when his hand smacked down on your ass even harder this time. He was clearly just manipulating it out of you so that he could spank you, but it wasn't like you minded. You were too busy focusing on not cumming on the spot with every pull of your hair and every brush of his tip at your sweet spot.

Ville's room was filled with the sound of moans and the echoing slap of skin-on-skin as he fucked you within an inch of your life, the fact that he was standing on the floor and you were on the bed allowing him more purchase to slam into you without mercy as you cried out with every thrust.

Your orgasm was rising up fast inside you considering he'd already been fingering you and he'd been snapping at you enough to wet anyone's panties at least a little bit, and you found yourself shaking with the effort of trying to hold yourself back.

"I can feel you shaking. You want to cum, don't you?" Once again, his voice was nothing if not condescending, and you felt his brutal, harsh thrusts suddenly slow to languid, smooth rolls of his hips as he purposely slowed himself down just to keep you from reaching that tipping point. You let out a whine of frustration.

"Yes. Daddy, please." One again, another harsh smack; this time to your other cheek. You already knew by the time that you were done with this that your ass was going to be bright red (and probably a little bruised), and you could practically picture Ville's giddy look at the fact.

"Beg for it, if you want it so bad." He said simply in response. You could just make out the sound of him groaning with every roll of his hips, and you were praying that he'd grant you some mercy in favor of reaching his own climax.

"Please, baby. I can't take it anymore." You pleaded, nails dug deep into his sheets and voice broken apart. Your head spun with the pleasure clouding every inch of your body as you inhaled the smell of Ville on his sheets, and your legs were barely holding you up where you were still on your knees. He smacked your ass again, this time hard enough to pull a sob out of you.

"Try again." You felt his cock twitch inside you, and you knew it was because he had just realized you were crying. This time it took you a long time to be able to respond, your eyes blinded by tears and your throat raw as you felt your hip start to ache from his tight grip.

"Daddy, ple—" Smack. Another cry of pleasured pain, and you tried again. "Please let me cum, daddy." Smack. Your scalp was sore and your neck hurt, but you were so close and so desperate that you just keened back further into his pulling, a whimpering and whining mess as you waited for him to cease his attack on your senses.

"Wait until I do." And then, where he had been smoothly, slowly rolling his hips into you, he suddenly picked up his pace again, hips slamming into your stinging, sensitive ass as he chased his own high while pulling you more and more into a state of mind-numbing pleasure. "Fuck, sweetheart. I wish you could see how fucking red your ass is."

You couldn't see it, but you could definitely feel it.

You couldn't respond through your tears and the moans that were pulling from your lips with each ruthless slam of his cock into you, every thought in your brain completely gone as you felt your whole body start to shake. You had never been with someone that had been so hellbent on making you hold off every fucking orgasm you had before Ville, and it had taken you time to learn, but even now you felt panic rising in you with the fear of not being able to keep yourself from cumming. He was fucking you too good, and your body was already reacting too much.

So, when you heard that telltale moan above you, your brain clicked back into place as his already uneven pace went shaky as his breath caught in his throat.

"Fuuuck." He groaned before you felt him spill inside of you, hand on your hip going impossibly tight as he let his own orgasm take over him. And then, finally, the golden words: "Cum. Now."

He only needed about one more thrust before you were cumming too, relying almost completely on his grip on your hips to keep you up as you cried out and tensed while your climax pushed through your body. He fucked you through both of your orgasms, his breathing vocal and ragged as he let go of your hair to hold your hips with both hands and pulled you back on his cock again and again until you were crying out jumbled renditions of his name and feeling your eyes wet with tears all over again as you bordered on overstimulation.

Only then did he finally slow to a stop, his grip on your hips going lax as you started to try and catch your breath. Every part of you ached, but you were so fucked out that you couldn't even find it in you to care.

"You look so fucking gorgeous right now." Ville mumbled as he pulled out and helped you into laying on your side, reaching out to wipe the tears that were still spilling freely down your cheeks with his thumb as his free hand rested on your knee. "Such a crier."

"Leave me alone." You groaned, finding the strength where it felt like you had none to raise your hand and flip him off to his face. Your makeup had probably smeared and was probably all over your face, and you knew he liked that, but you weren't quite ready for his teasing yet.

"Don't be like that." He took your hand where you were flipping him off and instead pressed a kiss to the back of it, the light catching the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead when he tilted his head. If anyone looked gorgeous, it was him. His hair was pushed back and away from his face, and there was a red hint to his cheeks. If you weren't so weak, you would've jumped his bones for a second round right then and there. He then rubbed his hand over your ass, making you wince. "You want help to the bathroom, mi amor?"

"No. Get in bed." You huffed, jabbing a finger at him because that shit-eating grin on his face was only getting wider by the second. And it was only going to get worse when you stood up on your incredibly-shaky legs.

"Yes, my love." He rolled his eyes, letting go of your hand and standing back up to his full height. "Let me take a picture of your ass. My handprints are all fucking over it."

Once again, he only earned himself your middle finger as you took his hand to stand up, face going red when your legs almost gave out on you. He gave you a knowing look but chose not to comment on it, instead dipping down to give you a slow kiss before smacking your ass and stepping out of the way to let you walk out.

Someday you were going to kick his fucking ass.

Once you had cleaned up and wiped some of the mascara and eyeshadow (that was indeed all over your face) off, you came back to Ville's room, biting back a smile at seeing him basically half-asleep right in the middle of the bed under the covers.

"I thought you had emails to read." You teased as you crawled in bed after him, hand brushing against his arm as he extended it towards you. He shot you a dirty look, pulling you into him once he had his hand at your very sore hip and forcing you to basically fall into bed next to him.

"I do, but I also have a chronically horny girlfriend who can't keep herself off my cock for more than a few hours, so they'll have to wait." He said dryly, a smirk pulling back onto his lips when you groaned as he squeezed your hip. "The fuck are you whining about? You said I could do whatever I wanted to you."

"Yeah, but now everything hurts." You mumbled, playing with his fingers where his arm was wrapped around you and his hand rested loosely against your shoulder. "You always have to be so rough."

He continued to smirk, but he turned on his side so that he was facing you, gently pulling his fingers from your grasp so that he could cup the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"It's because you're so beautiful when I make you cry." He said honestly, his eyes meeting yours before he was dipping his head to kiss you. The kiss was soft and unhurried, his hand resting just above your sore hip under the covers while your hand pushed into his hair. "And you insist on calling me 'daddy', which is fucking godawful."

"You say that every time, but if you really didn't like it, you wouldn't let me do it." You could see right through him. He was about as inconspicuous as you when you said you didn't like when he left you sore and shaking every time he fucked you. "Does 'master' sound better to you?"

"Jesus Christ. You're not my pet." He said exasperatedly, a grin pulling at his lips as you laughed at his words.

"Hey. I didn't say I'm calling you master. You could be my pet." You said airily, pulling on his hair slightly where your hand was still in it and watching as he gave you that unimpressed stare that you received so often.

"Fat fucking chance." He then pulled your hand out of his hair, pushing it down so that you were forced to rest your arm over his side before drawing you up closer to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and close your eyes."

"But I wanna make out." You tried and failed to get out of his grasp, your hand pressed against his chest over the tattoo there as he tried to essentially suffocate you into being quiet.

"Shh. I'm turning off the lights." He ignored your protests, reaching one arm back to turn off the lamp that had been illuminating the room before turning back to you and stopping your hand before you could slip it down far enough to get to his ass just to see what he would do. "Don't even think about it."

"I love you." You pouted, pulling slightly when he didn't cease his grip on your wrist and then just giving up and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. He tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you completely flush up against him before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"I love you too. Doesn't mean I'm letting your hand go."

#ville valo #ville hermanni valo #ville valo x reader #ville valo smut #ville valo fic #HIM #his infernal majesty #bam margera #jackass #jackass imagine #jackass mtv #jackass movie #self indulgent as fuck

378 notes · View notes