#didn't even check the pulse or breathing or anything

[luvymelody]

NAME : katsuki bakugou , boku no hero academia

SONG : apple cider , beabadoobee

SUMMARY : y/n gets hit with a quirk, making their mostly stoic facade disappear, turning into a more clingy, more flirty in a way? wc : 1.8k

(y/ns quirk is practically earth-bending. its not really important tho so like dont worry)

(set around the time where they have dorms and hero license)

y/n smiled in the chair as they sat, patiently waiting as they tapped their feet on the floor and recovery girl looked around their figure, looking for any injuries.

"so, i don't see any injuries. i only see the personality change."

"they are okay though, right?"

bakugou asked, arms crossed as he leaned on the wall near the door of the nurse's office as he looked down to the ground, his eyes gazing up to the smiling y/n.

"yeah they are. i believe it's made them the opposite personality they are, simple thing really- it'll last for about a week. for now, i think it's best you act like everything's normal. say yes to whatever they say. i also don't believe they'll remember anything the next week-"

-

"katsuki!"

"yeah i know, idiot!"

bakugou yelled out, using his quirk to jump up into the air to avoid the villains running to tackle him, using his explosions on the villain coming his way. y/n stomped the ground as the ground made a crumbled path towards a group of villains, sending them into the air and todoroki froze them in air using his ice.

there was a villain hiding in the alleyway near the fight, watching his group being beaten by just three measly high schoolers. yeah they might be in the hero course but they were still teenagers!

"i think.. we're done.."

y/n breathed out, their hands resting on their hips as the two other guys went to stand with y/n, walking towards them.

"god, i did most of the work."

bakugou said, panting slowly as todoroki breathed out ice. y/n glanced around the area, seeing civilians taking photos of them on the sidelines of the streets.

"katsuki, your turn to take photos with civilians."

"hah? no way."

"me and shoto did it yesterday, your turn."

"argh, you're useless!"

bakugou yelled out, begrudgingly stomping his way to the civilians as they squealed, hitting each other and fixing themselves up in their phone cameras.

y/n watched as bakugou walked away, admiring him in a way. y/n's class saw them as the quiet, but powerful and strong person. y/n didn't mind it as todoroki was the same. but rather, y/n admired bakugou. even if they were friends and seemed to be considered 'close'. it's not like you can't admire your friends, right?

y/n's eyes glided back towards todoroki, but then suddenly a dash of colour came into their view, as they looked towards it and turns out, there was a villain aiming for bakugou, who didn't see, still walking towards the civilians as they didn't notice the villain either, too focused on bakugou.

without thinking, y/n's feet dashed towards bakugou, pushing him out of the way as the villain's hand latched onto their face, their eyes fluttering shut as y/n passed out on the ground.

bakugou stumbled forward, turning around and seeing y/n on the floor, their eyes closed and the villain standing over them. bakugou respected y/n in a way, they were strong, stronger than the whole class, even bakugou could admit. there was admiration that bakugou felt for y/n, he was also fearful of possible feelings that he felt for y/n, pushing them down.

"..who do you think you are, you villain?!"

bakugou yelled, his hands behind him as he launched himself towards the villain, his hands latching onto the villain's shoulder as bakugou sent him tumbling to the ground.

"what did you do to them, hah?"

todoroki ran to y/n, crouching down and checking their pulse.

"they're just passed out."

todoroki said to bakugou, who looked back at him and then bakugou looked back down to the villain on the floor, his knee digging into the villain's back.

"what's your quirk? and you better tell me straight or else."

-

y/n walked down the hall with bakugou by their side, y/n linking their arm as they held bakugou's arm who's hands were in his pockets.

"katsuki! are you hungry?"

"mhm yeah. do you want me to make you something?"

"oh yeah please!"

y/n became nicer, more clingy with everyone, but mostly bakugou. bakugou felt his chest warm up at the tone of voice y/n used to call his name, 'katsuki!' .

they made their way together to the kitchen, as bakugou made his way to the fridge and cabinets, taking some ingredients and setting them on the counter.

"do you want me to help, katsuki?"

"just sit there and look pretty."

bakugou said, setting down the egg carton on the counter, before walking over to y/n, picking them up by the waist, both hands firmly on the side of their waist as he lifted them up to sit on the counter next to the stove.

y/n payed no mind to bakugou's touch, smiling wide as they swung their feet, their feet not touching the ground.

a good thing about this quirk effect was how sweet y/n was. bakugou was used to the nonchalantly y/n, pretty y/n sitting there like no one was bothered by how pretty they were, even if they acted so stoic all the damn time.

another good thing was bakugou could make this into his advantage, try to make y/n feel giddy in a way. it's not like they’ll remember anything, right?

bakugou grabbed an egg out of it's place. grabbing four and cracking them into a bowl while separating the whites and the yolk.

"can i mix the yolk?"

y/n asked, twindling their fingers as they waited for bakugou's response as he looked sideways to look at them.

"yeah, here."

bakugou handed y/n the bowl of yolks while also handing them a pair of chopsticks, watching y/n mix the yolks while they stuck their tongue out a little in focus. bakugou forcing his eyes to look away to put rice into the rice cooker.

-

bakugou watched as y/n ate their omelette, eating his omelette calmly as y/n practically swallowed the whole meal in 3 bites. quickly finishing it as they waited for bakugou to finish his.

"what do you wanna do, pretty?"

bakugou mumbled, putting their dishes in the sink, thinking 'class rep is gonna do them anyway'. y/n heard his voice, smiling softly.

"i'm sleepy, can we have a sleepover in your dorm?"

bakugou nodded, bringing his hand towards y/n's as he clutched onto it, bringing y/n to the elevator.

-

the next day, it was a friday. class 1-a got excused from class early to rest. it was a friday anyway. nonetheless, the class cherished the rare wide smiles that y/n was giving them, doing whatever they could to make y/n smile bigger.

"guys! i say we have a movie night tonight!"

mina said, her hand in the air to direct the classes attention to her.

"what movie?"

"let's binge watch all the harry potter movies!"

"hell nah cuh"

-

eventually, the whole class agreed. mostly everyone set up the comfy area of blankets and pillows, making a little oval around the large couch that sat infront of the large flat screen tv that the dorms had supplied for the students.

bakugou only agreed to come to sit next to y/n, as close as he could, and no one could comment on it because y/n wanted to sit next to bakugou!

y/n sat in the floor, their back leaning on the couch as kirishima sat on the couch behind them, y/n between his legs. bakugou sat on their left, the closet people to him were kirishima and y/n. y/n’s legs were under a blanket to create warm underneath, bakugou also under the blanket close to y/n. y/n held onto bakugou’s hand, playing with his fingers as bakugou watched y/n’s hands work.

no one could see anyway, bakugou thinks a bird just got murdered, but he doesn’t know, nor care really.

y/n gingerly intertwines their fingers, rubbing their thumb along bakugou’s own. y/n places a leg between bakugou’s legs, getting impossibly close to him as bakugou lets it happen, getting closer to y/n aswell.

“what you doing, dumbass?”

bakugou whispered, not letting anyone else but y/n hear his voice, it was slightly raspy in a way, he had never talked in such a soft tone.

“jus’ wanna get close to you..”

y/n admitted, looking up into bakugou’s eyes. thank god the lights were off and the tv was emitting a small bit of light, bakugou’s face was burning, but maybe y/n could already tell by his sweaty palms. he’s had to wipe his hands on the blanket several times already.

y/n looked around to their classmates, leaning into bakugou’s ear as they placed a hand over their mouth to cover their voice. at the same time, bakugou placed his hand on y/n’s lower back, leaning his ear towards them.

“can i sit between your legs?”

y/n asked, leaning back out with a soft smile adoring their lips. bakugou couldn’t resist, not saying anything but just moving the blanket and tapping the space between his legs.

y/n smiled widely, quickly getting up a little bit and sitting down between bakugou’s legs. y/n leaned back on bakugou while he wrapped his arms around y/n, holding onto their waist and he liked the way it slightly squished under his rough hands. bakugou placed his head into the crook of their neck, snuggling his nose into the side of their neck as y/n giggled, telling bakugou ‘that tickles!’ .

bakugou rested his chin on y/n’s shoulder, getting comfortable as y/n rested their full body weight on bakugou.

“you’re lucky i like you.”

bakugou mumbled, it was nearly silent, but since it was right next to y/n’s ear, they heard all of it. y/n’s smile disappeared, their face being replaced with embarrassment and a burning hot face. y/n turned their head to the right, facing their head away as they were flustered.

"hah? are you embarrassed, pretty?"

bakugou let go of y/n's waist, rubbing at their hips as they placed their hands on bakugou's thighs, avoiding bakugou looking at them.

"do you not like me?"

y/n gasped, whipping their head around and hitting bakugou on the chest as he yelped slightly at the sudden action.

"of course i do. why do you think i hang out with you more than anyone else?"

y/n mumbled the last bit, looking back at the movie like they've been paying attention.

"you're gonna watch the movie now?"

"i've been watching the whole time, what do you mean?"

y/n quickly said, their hands crossing above their chest as bakugou leaned into them, his chest touching their back.

"you want me to stop?"

y/n didn't answer straight away, but eventually,

"no.."

bakugou heard the small mumble, as he hid a chuckle and a smirk by digging his face into their neck, which made y/n smile at the ticklish feeling, which made them laugh quietly, smacking bakugou softly to get him to stop.

#baku a lil ooc but like this idea was in my head and i really wanted to write it #bakugou #katuski bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #mha #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

[neckromantics]

We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.

How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?

You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.

You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.

He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.

He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.

Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)

At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.

He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.

It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.

You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.

Astarion's eyes go heavy.

Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.

You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.

You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.

There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.

You cling to him like a lifeline.

Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.

And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #astarion headcanons

[atomskdluffy]

It may be a cliché in media when a hero appears to be dead and then "comes back to life" at the end of the fight to deliver the final blow, but you gotta appreciate when they straight-up say, "I just passed out from the pain, did you even check my pulse???" The one question I always ask when this sort of thing happens! Someone will start instantly mourning the person but I almost never find the death believable until it's confirmed. Check their damn pulse!

#That line was said in Tiger & Bunny actually #I completely respect them for that #It's not like he had a hole blown in his chest or anything! #Just his armor and the suit underneath! #He was bruised but not even bloody! #WHY WOULD YOU THINK HE WAS DEAD YOU IDIOT BUNNY #Check his damn pulse! #At least the tech guy had good reason to make that mistake #He wasn't there and only saw Tiger's vitals disappear #Which was of course because his armor was destroyed #Bunny you were literally holding him! #He didn't even stop breathing if he just passed out! #Why do they keep writing scenes like this like damn

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Keeping it quiet

Paring: Innocent!reader × dads!friend!Nat

Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that

Warnings: SMUT, (legal) age gap, amab!nat, oral, fingering, p in v, pet names, implied aftercare, secret relationship, breeding kink, unprotected sex, no use of Y/N

Word count: 1.2k

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

AN: sorry for the long wait but here I am

Masterlist

Today was supposed to be a normal BBQ like your family had had so often in this warm summer months but ever since your father invited his collegue over to join something changed. Ever since you met Natasha Romanoff about 3 months back you couldn't stop thinking about her. She might have been old enough to be your mother and a friend of your father but you couldn't denie the fact that you were attracted to her like flies to the light. She was a true charmer excatly knowing what to say and to do. You never felt uncomfortable around her even though she blatanly flited with you. Her touch somehow always lingering on your skin when the two of you were alone. It was only a matter of time until you ended in Natashas bed legs widely spread as she savoured your taste. So the time flew sneaking around your parents watch as you kept your illicent affair hidden falling head over heals for the older woman. Today was one of those days where Nat came over to your parents place and just couldn't keep her hands of you.

Like always Natashas steps were light on the cold tiles of the french villa your family owned. Sometimes you thought she was an actual spy. You didn't hear her standing in the kitchen in skimpy clothing preparing something for dinner as you mindlessly hummed along whatever Taylor Swift song was currently on the radio. "What are you doing bunny" She sneaked up behind you pressing her front into your back her crotch againt the swell of your ass. "Just doin' a salad you know" She humped checking out the area to see if your parents were around before doing anything further. Her hands came up to your hips pulling your behind harder against her crotch. "Natty please" you whined as she smirked pressing her nose against your neck smelling the expensive perfume she had gotten you. "We can't not here" your breathing was heavy uneven "What if my parents see?"

"They're in the garden trust me bunny" She whispered her strong hands trialling up your sides to your chest. Even though your body was betraying you leaning into her touch seemingly begging for more you couldn't give in just yet. You wanted to show her how you infact could be stronger than your most animalistic thoughts. "Natasha not now" she groaned into her hear making you feel the wettnes betwen your owm legs. "Fuck bunny I can't wait to feel your tight little pussy pulsing around me begging me to let you cum. And then after you had your sweet sweet release I'm gonna breed you're dripping with my cum" she whispered into your ear before pushing herself from the counter leaving into the garden. Of course she wouldn't actually get you pregnant you where on the pill and you weren't sure if she was even fertile. It was more of her kink she had explained to you.

The rest of the night you two kept your play up. Acting asif you couldn't care less what the other was doing in front of your parents. Still you couldn't help but admire her beautiful features as she had some boring converstaion with your father about politics or what ever. What really interested you would be the time spend between the sheets with her as she would show you all her passions and desires. After what seemed like hours you finally snuck your way into the guest room. She was spread wide on the comfortable mattress only wearing a wifebeater and her chequered boxers. "There's my bunny eh" she turned her head towards you as you made your way over to the bed swinging your hips . You sat down deside you before turning to kiss you roughly slipping her tongue into your mouth as you shifted to strangle her waist feeling her growing erection as you rolled your hips against her crotch.

"Fuck Bunny" she breathed out as she gripped onto your hips stilling you in place. "let me get you ready first" she whispered flipping you to lay under her as she kissed your neck down reamoving your cami top in the process. She took on nipple in her mouth slightly sucking on it before her big hand started playing with your other nipple rubbing over it. You let out quiet whippers as she switched sides. After what she deemed to be enough attention to your chest she kissed her way down to your panties nibbling on the skin of your hips. She made sure to leave hickeys in her way. You tried your best go keep it quiet but when Nat did her thing it was hard. Natasha kissed your clit through the soaked through panties pulling them down only to revel your sticky heat.

She made a bold lick from the end of your pussy right up your puffy clit swirling her trained tongue around the erected nub. Her scarlet lips attached to your clit sucking on it making you cry out as you tried to close your legs around her head but she kept them spread. She slowly inserted two of her long fingers into your clenching hole as you quietly cried out for mor and more. Natasha moved her fingers roughly and fast not giving you time to adjust. "Fuck your so tight" she groaned pumping her fingers even faster. “Natty ‘m close so close“ You felt your release close enough to grab but then Nat pulled her dripping fingers from your heat leaving you high and dry. “W-What?” You mumbled out opening your eyes again only to see Natasha smirking down at you “I want some fun too honey“ she smirked flipping you to your knees pushing your hips up as you arched your back showing off both your tight holes to her.

You heard her removing her boxers she already was rock hard for you her reddened tip leaking with pre cum as she expertly spits on her shaft spreading the slick over it. She moved closer pushing her tip to you clit enjoying the sight of you bucking your hips desperately trying to find your pleasure. “Ngh Tasha please” you begged making her listen slowly pushing in making you gasp at the feeling of being stretched out like that. She gave you time to quickly adjust before picking up pace fucking you hard and rough as she had a death grip on your hips. You couldn’t care less about the bruises as you pushed your face into the pillow muffling your sounds. With Natasha whimpers and the sound of skin slapping your moans filled the hot summer night air hoping your parents couldn’t hear you.

You kept clenching down on Nat she grabbed onto your shoulders. “Fuck ‘m gonna breed that little pussy ngh… I’m gonna make you so full of my cum“ you whined out before the coil in your stomach snapped and you came hard Natasha following soon releasing her white seed deep inside your whomp. She proceeded to help you through your orgasm even cleaning you up before cuddling you to sleep her arms tightly around your smaller body.

:)

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff

[tigertales9]

Hard Reset II

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This fic covers the week 2 loss to the Ravens plus the lead-up to week 3 and the win against the Rams.

Time/Place: Sunday, Sep. 17, 2023 - Monday, Sep. 25, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: This is a follow-up to Hard Reset

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday, 9/17/23 (just after the week 2 loss to the Ravens)

You wave to Joe's parents as they drive off down the street, eventually walking toward the house as your mind rewinds to the game …

Joe had performed better but was still clearly hampered by the injury, his limp worse than ever after he tweaked the bad calf trying to evade pressure. He'd asked you and his parents not to meet him in the tunnel after the game if the Bengals lost, so y'all went straight home, his parents deciding to drop you off and drive back to Athens instead of spending the night like they planned.

Once you're in the house you text Joe to let him know his parents decided to head home; you take a quick shower and change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, fighting the urge to check social media to see what folks are saying about the game.

You eventually get a text back from Joe letting you know he's headed home; you pace back and forth until you hear the garage door open, your pulse picking up as he walks into the house, the jaunty curl gracing his forehead a stark contrast to his somber expression.

"Hey," you greet him, hurrying to give him a hug before looking up into his face. "Is it bad?" you ask.

"Well, it's not great," he snaps, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude."

"It's okay. I know you're frustrated," you soothe. "Do we need to do anything to it tonight? Massage? Elevation? Compression?"

He nods his head. "All of the above, although the massage isn't mandatory."

"Does it hurt?"

"It's pretty sore and tight, yeah," he admits. "How it responds in the next few days will decide if I'm playing next week or not."

You nod your head and bite your tongue. Surely he's not playing next week, right? you think to yourself, taking a deep breath as he studies your facial expression.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, a slight edge in his voice.

"I mean … you clearly tweaked it again. It seems to be getting worse not better. I just hope the medical team makes the right decision." He opens his mouth to retort but you quickly change the subject. "Are you hungry?"

He wrinkles his nose. "I'm hungry but nothing sounds good. Plus I need to go watch some film, and that will def make me lose my appetite." He walks a few steps toward the stairs before turning around and walking back; he leans down to drop a kiss on your lips, pulling back to search your face. "Don't worry," he orders, giving you a tiny smile before pressing another quick kiss on your lips.

You watch as he heads upstairs, taking them one at a time and clearly limping instead of bounding up them two at a time like he normally does. He makes eye contact with you just before he disappears, the defeated look on his face breaking your heart. Well shit, you think to yourself, feeling absolutely helpless to do anything to make him feel better.

You walk into the kitchen and spot your phone on the counter; you grab it and send a quick text to Joe's mom to let her know he got home okay. After that you head into the living room and plop down on the sofa, not really feeling like doing anything and not knowing when Joe will be done watching film -- could be thirty minutes, could be three hours. The only sure thing is he'll be in an even worse mood once he's done.

You heave a sigh and roll your shoulders, your eyes landing on a throw pillow as a thought hits you. "Oh yeah," you mutter, snatching the pillow off the sofa before heading for the stairs; you make a quick detour through the kitchen to grab a bottle of orange mango BodyArmor out of the fridge before making your way up to Joe's office.

He's changed into a t-shirt and shorts, a black compression sleeve visible on his right calf, ankle to knee. You quickly approach him and set the cold drink on a coaster on his desk before dragging an armchair over and dropping the pillow on it. "Elevate your leg," you urge, watching as he lifts his leg up and props it on the pillow. "Need anything else?" you ask. "I'm good, babe, thanks," he mutters, giving you a distracted smile before turning his attention back to the action on the screen.

You walk down the hallway to the master bedroom, crawling onto the bed as you decide to kill some time by scrolling your phone, strategically avoiding any and all football news.

You scroll for about forty minutes before remembering the chicken and dumplings in the fridge. You ease out of bed and creep down the hallway, wincing at the disgruntled grumbling noises coming from Joe's office. "Better call an audible," you whisper, heading downstairs to heat up the food instead of asking him if he's hungry.

You ladle a hearty portion into a saucepan and turn on the heat, smiling once it starts to simmer, the tendrils of fragrant steam wafting upward to work their magic. He has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to food, and it's not long before you hear him ambling down the stairs

"What's that delicious smell?" he asks, sniffing the air as he walks into the kitchen.

"Your mom made you some chicken and dumplings."

"Really?"

"Yeah." You chuckle at the look on his face. "Brought 'em all the way from Athens in a cooler for her baby boy."

"That was nice," he mutters.

"Yes it was," you agree. "Have a seat," you continue, pointing at a barstool before you dish up his dinner; you set the bowl down in front of him, smiling when he grabs his spoon and tucks into it, making appreciative noises as he quickly demolishes the entire bowl.

"Pretty good, huh?" you ask.

"Delicious," he groans, rubbing his full belly. "You're not having any?" he asks.

"I ate earlier," you answer, not mentioning that your dinner was a few olives and a handful of cashews because your stomach was tied in knots from the game.

"I'm so fucking tired," he grumbles. "Too bad I need to watch more film tonight."

"Nope!" you blurt out, shaking your head. "Fuel and rest are the most important things for your recovery. You fueled up," you continue, shaking his empty bowl, "and now it's time to rest. You're gonna turn your phone off, brush your teeth then let me massage you until you're hopefully relaxed enough to fall asleep. You can watch more film tomorrow."

You turn to head to the sink before spinning back around. "One quick thing before you turn your phone off … send a text to your mom saying the chicken and dumplings were delicious and you'll call her tomorrow."

His mouth is hanging open at this point and he lets out a bemused chuckle. "Damn, woman, you're barkin' orders at me like a drill sergeant."

"Damn right," you grin before nodding at his phone. "Get to it, soldier."

Fifteen minutes later you finish brushing your teeth and walk into the bedroom, your eyes raking over Joe who is already laying face down on the bed wearing nothing but the black compression sleeve on his right calf.

"You want me to use the massage wand or just my hands?"

"Just your hands."

You slide your shorts off and straddle his waist, starting the massage at his neck and shoulders -- giving extra attention to his throwing shoulder -- before slowly working your way down his tall, muscular frame. It takes a lot of self-control not to lean down and sink your teeth into one of his perfectly plump cheeks, but you keep it moving, working both of his thighs and his good calf before concentrating on his strained calf, his little grunts and groans of pleasure going straight to your crotch.

"That's good, babe," he eventually mutters, rolling over onto his back, a sheepish smile gracing his lips when your eyes land on his impressive erection. "Just ignore that," he mumbles. "You're probably completely turned off by me since I've been playing so shitty," he continues, pulling the edge of the sheet over his crotch and a pillow over his face.

You grin to yourself knowing his sore ego needs massaging just as much as his sore body; you decide to lay it on thick while massaging his thighs "That's a load of bullshit and you know it," you scoff. "I was turned on the second I laid eyes on you at LSU -- before I knew you were a football player -- and that feeling only grew as I got to know you better." He makes a snorting noise that's muffled by the pillow as you continue. "That was back before you were Joe Shiesty or Joe Brrr, remember? Back when you were just an incoming transfer QB who'd been a benchwarmer at OSU for the previous three seasons."

He pulls the pillow off of his face and makes eye contact with you. "Keep talking," he mumbles.

"The fact you were on the football team was the least interesting thing about you as far as I was concerned, and I was attracted to you in spite of it not because of it."

""Cause you thought I was a fuck boy."

"I thought most college football players were fuck boys. Took me a minute to realize you were different."

"What made you realize I was different?"

Y'all have had this discussion before, but you lean into it because he clearly needs to hear it again. "You never pressured me for sex. Gave me plenty of time to get to know you first." You give him a naughty grin. "And then when we finally had sex you got me off with your fingers and tongue first, and then when you came in like five minutes you got me off again."

"You liked that, huh?"

"Loved it," you admit, continuing to work your way up his thighs.

"Thank God I lasted longer than five minutes for round two."

"You were amazing," you sigh, "and you're still mind-blowingly amazing, but being a generous lover is just the cherry on top. You're also kind, compassionate, gorgeous, intelligent, funny as hell." You scoot forward, smiling when he spreads his legs wider to accommodate you. "You can hold conversations on everything from SpongeBob to superluminal time travel," you continue, giving him a wink. "In other words you're the complete package. And win or lose, I'll always want you more than anything."

His breath catches in his throat when you slide the sheet to the side to uncover his erection, your eyes never leaving his as you lean down and slowly run your tongue base to tip, sucking the plump head just inside your mouth and swirling your tongue around it a few times while he groans his approval. You fully intend to give him some super sloppy, world-class head but he stops you just a few minutes in.

"That's so good, babe, but I need to be inside you," he moans. You hesitate for a second and he yanks the pillow back over his face, his voice muffled again. "I knew it. You're probably drier than the Sahara."

"It's not that," you soothe, trying not to laugh at his pity party theatrics. "I just don't wanna hurt your leg." You crawl up his body until you're straddling his hips before easing the pillow off of his face; you slip your t-shirt off and toss it on the floor, smiling when his gaze immediately drops to your bare breasts. You reach down and pull your panties to the side before nestling your slick folds against his erection, sliding up and down his hard length several times until he's coated in your juices. "Does this feel dry to you?"

"No," he mutters, dropping a hand down to push his tip just inside your wet heat; you take over from there, slowly impaling yourself on his thick shaft while he teases your sensitive nipples.

Once he's fully seated he gently rolls you onto your back. "Don't hurt your leg," you urge. "It's okay," he murmurs. "If I can play a football game I can make love to my wife."

"We're not married yet," you whisper. "Won't be until this off-season."

"Might as well be," he states, the intense look on his face as he locks eyes with you feeling even more intimate than his cock moving inside you.

About twenty minutes into making the kind of slow-burn love that makes your toes curl, he stops his thrusts while buried deep inside you and meets your gaze. "I gotta stop for a sec," he murmurs, licking his lips and giving you a smile. "I'm close and I don't wanna cum yet. You feel too good."

"Okay," you breathe, raising a hand to brush his unruly curls off of his forehead, biting your lip when your core involuntarily clenches around his thick length. "Sorry," you whisper at his sharp intake of breath. "Didn't mean to do that."

"It's okay," he soothes, dropping a lingering kiss on your lips before staring into your eyes, his expression hard to read.

"What are you thinking?" you ask. "That I'm lucky to have you," he answers, capturing your lips before you can return the sentiment; he deepens the kiss and resumes thrusting, groaning when you dig your heels into his back and arch up against him. "Jesus, I'm close," he grits out a little while later, dropping a hand down to tease your clit, his climax hitting a few seconds after yours.

After a few minutes of mutual heavy breathing he locks eyes with you again, his face so close to yours that you breathe each other's breath as you continue to recover from the intense climax. He eventually drops a kiss on your lips and rolls off of you, immediately pulling you against him, his big spoon to your little spoon; he buries his nose in your hair and inhales deeply a few times before speaking.

"This game will eventually chew me up and spit me out; it means a lot to know you'll always be there for me."

"Always," you echo back to him, a little overwhelmed at the raw vulnerability in his words, a vulnerability that he usually keeps to himself. You wonder if you should say something else. Maybe I should reassure him a little more? you think to yourself, breathing a sigh of relief when he let's out a tiny snore. Another twenty minutes pass before your mind quiets down enough for you to join him in sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Monday, 9/18/23

The next day passes by quickly, and before you know it you're snuggled on the sofa with Joe watching the Browns vs Steelers on Monday Night Football. Early in the second quarter you're resting your head on his shoulder and barely paying attention to the game when he flinches hard. "Fuck!" he snaps, immediately turning the TV off when you ask "what happened?"

"Somebody got hurt," he answers.

"Why did you turn the TV off?"

"Because it's bad and I don't want you to see it."

"It was that bad?"

"Yeah," he nods, wincing as he watches the replay on his phone. "Nick Chubb got his knee caved in. Do NOT watch the replay, okay?"

"I hate this fucking game," you mumble, untangling yourself from his embrace before rushing upstairs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you curl up on the bed.

He walks into the room a minute later, stretching out beside you as you cry into your pillow. "I'm sorry I'm burdening you with my emotions," you sniff, burying your face deeper into your pillow. "You're not burdening me," he soothes, running a hand up and down your back. "I'm the reason you're worried, and I can't do anything about that, but at least let me hold you while you cry, okay?"

You eventually roll over and bury your face in his neck, crying harder for a few minutes before finally calming down, his warmth, his scent and his soothing words a balm to your frazzled nerves.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Tuesday, 9/19/23 - Saturday, 9/23/23

The next several days pass by uneventfully, with Joe heading out in the mornings after breakfast and not returning until dinner time, heading upstairs to his office after dinner to watch film while you throw yourself into a work project you volunteered for to get your mind off of other things.

You'd agreed not to ask about the status of his injury, instead trusting him to let you know if the status changed, one way or the other.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sunday, 9/24/23

On Sunday he heads to Sam's house to watch football with some of the guys; you give him a kiss as he leaves, letting him know you're going out with the girls later for dinner and drinks.

Several hours later you wave goodbye to your friends as they drop you off in front of your house; you sashay up the stairs to the front door, the tequila in your system putting a little extra swish in your step. You unlock the door and twirl your way into the house, letting out a sharp squeal when you see Joe leaning against the wall. "Holy shit! You scared me!" you snap, your pulse picking up as he pushes away from the wall and approaches you.

"Why did I scare you?" he asks.

"I just … I thought you'd already be at the team hotel, so I wasn't expecting you to be home."

"I've got like two hours until curfew; you really thought I was gonna go there that early?"

You shrug. "Guess I thought wrong."

"Guess so," he mutters, giving you a thorough up-and-down look. "You look incredible," he continues, his gaze taking in your fitted wrap sweater, mini skirt and patent leather heels. He leans down to press a kiss on your neck. "How many guys hit on you tonight?"

"None," you snort. "We went to that dive bar & grill just down the street from Gina's house. It was practically empty except for us."

"I don't believe you," he whispers against your ear. "No way you didn't get hit on looking like this."

"Umm, I totally didn't get hit on." You lean back and lock eyes with him. "Where's this coming from? Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk. Are you?"

You shrug. "I'm a little buzzed. I had two margaritas, but I'm not the one making weird accusations. What's up?"

He takes a deep breath before responding. "I'm afraid you're gonna get tired of being in a constant state of anxiety and just decide I'm not worth it."

"Huh?" you mumble. "What are you talking about?"

"I just feel like you'd be happier with a guy who has a normal job -- like an accountant -- instead of having to be worried about me getting broke in half every week during the season."

"Nope," you chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't love your job but I love you."

"You're laughing but I'm serious."

"I'm serious, too."

He studies your expression for a few heartbeats before speaking up again. "What if I said I want to get a marriage license in the next few weeks and go down to the courthouse and get married?"

Your eyebrows head toward your hairline as you consider the question. "So no wedding?"

"We can still have a huge wedding, I just … what if we got married and didn't tell anybody. Just a secret between us."

You swallow hard as you contemplate his request, taking a deep breath before answering. "Okay," you chirp. "Let's do it!" The surprised look on his face making you giggle.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"You bluffed and I called it," you giggle even harder, your stomach doing a flip at the serious look on his face. He braces a hand on the wall above your head then slowly moves forward, backing you up until there's barely breathing room between you; he licks his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth before recapturing your gaze. "What makes you think I'm bluffing?" he asks.

You stare into his eyes for several seconds before looking down at your feet, the shiny patent pumps giving you an idea. "Sorry, I can't think straight when my feet hurt," you mutter, gasping when he immediately scoops you up bridal-style and heads for the living room, sitting you on the sofa before dropping to his knees at your feet.

The second he slides your heels off and starts massaging your feet with his talented fingers you know exactly where this is headed; it's been a couple days since y'all had sex, and that -- plus the tequila in your system -- pretty much guarantees that the next forty minutes are deliciously raunchy.

You untie your wrap sweater and unhook your front-clasp bra while he pushes your skirt up and slides your panties off, his eyes dark with arousal as he settles between your spread thighs, his tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to climax before he kisses his way down your legs and goes back to rubbing your feet.

You watch him for a few minutes as you come down from the orgasm, fully expecting him to pounce you once you catch your breath. When he doesn't make a move you take matters into your own hands, teasing your nipples while he watches then sliding a hand down to rub your clit, the sound he makes low in his throat causing your core to contract.

You slide a finger inside your slick heat, your breath catching in your throat when he leans forward and sucks your finger into his mouth, licking it clean before thrusting his tongue inside you, his big hands sliding up to tease your breasts as he brings you to the brink yet again; he shoves his shorts and undies down when you beg for his cock, burying his hard length deep inside you and riding you hard until you come apart, your fingernails digging into his muscular shoulders as he fucks you through the intense orgasm, his own climax hitting just a few heartbeats later.

After several minutes he locks eyes with you, smiling when you tweak the curl gracing his forehead. "You better get going," you whisper, biting your lip as he pulls out of you. "Let's take a quick shower together first," he orders, helping you off the sofa and ushering you upstairs.

He turns the shower on and steps inside. "You're gonna be a game time decision tomorrow, right?" you ask, stepping into the shower and leaning into him as he pulls you close. "Yes, ma'am," he answers. "You're gonna play, aren't you?" you whisper against his chest. "Yes, ma'am," he repeats, dropping a kiss on your forehead as you heave a sigh.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Monday, 9/25/23

You lean against the wall in the stadium tunnel, your entire body buzzing from the excitement of the electric atmosphere and the much-needed win over the Rams.

Joe was still hampered by the calf injury, but he seemingly got through the game without hurting it worse. That plus him and Ja'Marr hooking up for 141 yards was enough to put a goofy grin on your face. Your grin morphs into a huge smile when you see him approaching, his own face sporting a smile that will have the internet swooning, and rightfully so.

You hang back and let his parents hug him first, your pulse rate picking up when he locks eyes with you and steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug before dropping a quick kiss on your lips. Your eyes go wide at the rare PDA. "I'm so p…proud of you," you sputter, more than a little flustered at the look on his face. "Thanks," he grins. "See you at home," he continues, leaning down until his mouth is touching your ear. "Hope you're not too tired," he whispers, his hot breath in your ear setting off a steady throb between your legs.

He leans back and takes in the look on your face, his eyes flicking down to your white knee boots and lingering there for a few heartbeats before he gives you a quick wink and heads toward the locker room.

~ ~ ~

Once back home you take a shower and crawl into bed, knowing Joe will come directly upstairs once he gets home, just like he always does when his parents spend the night after a late game.

It's not long before your phone rings; you check the display, butterflies taking flight in your stomach as you answer. "Hey babe."

"Hey," Joe says. "Are my parents still up?"

"No. They crashed like an hour ago. Your mom and I are gonna cook brunch tomorrow."

"Sounds great. Are you tired?"

"No," you whisper, your body reacting to his sensual tone.

"You still wearing those boots?"

"No. You want me to put 'em back on?"

"Yeah. Just the boots and nothing else."

"Yes, sir," you purr.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Can't wait." You end the call and ease out of bed, walking into your closet to grab the white platform knee boots; you slide your panties off and step into the boots, fluffing your hair as you check your reflection in the full-length mirror, thanking your lucky stars that the guest room Joe's parents are sleeping in is downstairs and on the opposite side of the house.

A glint of light reflected in the mirror catches your eye and you look down, smiling when you realize it's your engagement ring. A thrill runs through you as you remember Joe calling you "my wife" just over a week ago when you were making love. You bite your lip when you think of just how close that is to being a reality, taking a deep breath as you let your mind rewind to earlier this morning.

~ ~ ~

He'd left the team hotel early this morning and dropped by the house to have breakfast with you like he always does for home games. He seemed more fidgety than normal, but you chalked it up to game day nerves until he cleared his throat and hit you with a serious question.

"What I said last night about getting married … we can do it during the upcoming bye week. We can apply for a marriage license and get married the same day."

You finished chewing a bite of waffle before swallowing and taking a gulp of orange juice, your mind racing as he continued.

"What do you say?" he asked. "Will you secretly marry me?"

"Yes!" you chirped, both of you grinning like idiots at each other at the thought of sharing such a delicious secret for several months until your actual wedding.

You bit your lip as another thought hit you. "What if some nosy asshole digs around and finds our marriage license? Are those public record?"

"Not if you have enough money."

"Oh, well I guess it's not a problem then, Mr. Money Bags," you teased.

"That'll be Mr. & Mrs. Money Bags in just a few more weeks."

~ ~ ~

You smile at your reflection as your mind snaps back to the present. You grab the black and white tiger-striped scarf you wore to the game and walk into the bedroom, draping the sheer fabric over your bedside lamp to add a little mood lighting, your pulse kicking into overdrive when you hear your soon-to-be husband's car pull into the garage.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

[mypoisonedvine]

Humbly requesting knotting with werewolf bill pleaseeeeee I’m thirsty 🥺

oh god oh jesus oh no oh god oh jesus this got out of hand quickly...

warnings: knotting and a few other a/b/o tropes but technically not a/b/o cause reader is 'normal', semi-werewolf bill (I don't get into the specifics it's porn), size kink and some pain, breeding kink, biting/marking kink

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, but his grip was getting tighter on your thighs; you knew he needed this. It's why you agreed in the first place— but the little fucker kept stalling.

Okay, actually, not a little fucker. That was exactly what was holding him back now: knowing he was anything but little.

"I would never forgive myself, really," he insisted, "if you— if it hurt you. If I—"

"Bill, it's okay," you promised. "I can take it."

You weren't actually totally sure of that; now that you'd seen his cock, and now that you'd read about werewolves and their... mating, you were a bit nervous that he really would ruin you. But you at least wanted to try— and you knew that whatever he needed, you could give. "But if you need me to stop—"

"I know," you sighed, "you'll be the first to know."

He sighed, looking down at you and tilting his head slightly. "You're too good to me," he breathed.

"Hey, just a favour between friends," you insisted, even though it was obviously more than that; he laughed a little, knowing this was beyond the typical bounds of a friendly offering. But you'd been the one to suggest it, when he explained to you how sick he could get if he didn't give in to his breeding instinct, and he had only checked that you really meant it about a thousand times before he agreeing to it.

His cock was already hard, of course; actually, it was throbbing, like it knew what was coming. He'd been struggling to control himself as soon as he smelled you— your cunt, your arousal, he swore he could hear your heartbeat. His body longed to fill you, breed you, claim you, and it was a little more than just his newfound werewolf qualities talking... but he wasn't quite acknowledging that consciously at the moment.

He laid his cock down over your stomach, pressing his base right up to where it would meet you if he was balls deep, and almost snarled at the sight of his tip surpassing your belly button. "S'how deep it's gonna be..." he whispered to you.

You swallowed thickly. "I can fit it. At least I'll try."

He shut his eyes, summoning a few more moments of patience, swearing to himself that he would be gentle with you even if it took more self-control than he felt he had at the moment.

"I-it's okay if you don't want to, with me," you added quickly, nervous with the way he seemed to keep hesitating. "It was just an idea..."

But he was so focused on admiring your body under him, your spread legs and the wet, waiting cunt between them— soft skin, a patient stare on your face; there was a sick little voice in his mind, shouting out from one of the deepest corners ruin, ruin, ruin. He needed you to be his. He knew how dangerous this was; but it nearly killed him last rut, not being able to fuck anything but his hand. He already felt the base of his cock pulsing, ready to swell and knot anything at this point. "I want you," he whispered. "Really fucking bad. Is that okay?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah, that's okay. I want you to do it, Bill— take me. I wanna help you."

He nodded a little, before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was gentle, shockingly so— that was the last of his human resolve, it felt like. It was the way he imagined he should've kissed you a long time ago, if he wasn't always too nervous to try. You kissed him back, reaching up to gently hold onto his arms. You felt... little. Smaller than usual. Maybe it was your shyness, or maybe it was just that he felt big in times like this.

He pressed his swollen head to your opening, and sighed as he plunged forward. Your nails dug into his skin, but he kept going; you whined against his lips, but he kept going, going going until he was flush against you and your eyes were rolled back in your head. "F-fuck, Bill— s'deep..."

"Fuck," he groaned, lifting you up, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close; he needed to feel you everywhere, as much as he could. "Is it hurting you?"

"No, fuck," you promised, holding onto him in return, "just move. I'm ready."

He tried to be slow, really, but it was hard not to just let his animal side take over. With all his patience, he managed to keep it not-quite-rushed but still not delicate either; you whined and hid your face in the crook of his neck, so he kissed the side of your head as he tried to remind himself not to hurt you. "It won't take me long," he assured, thinking that was a good thing in this case since you were probably struggling with it. "I— I haven't at all, since... since it happened. And I need it more than ever."

He saw your bare shoulder, and he shuddered with desire.

"You're so pretty," he breathed, "I want— I wanna bite you. Fuck, is that weird?"

"Do it," you pleaded, baring your neck for him; he was totally helpless to that, and he licked all over your skin before carefully sinking his teeth in. "Fuck! Bill, fuck, I like it— I like when you do that to me..."

He growled and did it again, on your shoulder; he wanted to mark you all over until you could never hide what he'd done to you. "Tell me it feels good," he demanded.

"It feels— oh god, Bill, it feels really fucking good... your cock is— fuck!" you moaned, and he could feel you shaking in his arms.

"I want you to come first," he whispered, "it might make it easier to take. I don't think I'll last much longer..."

He held your hips and tilted them just right, so your clit could grind against the spot above his cock— which was already just about ready to knot you, by the way, but he was holding it back somehow— and he hoped you wouldn't mind that he hadn't done much to tame the wild ginger hairs there.

He almost lost his cool when you started to rub yourself on him, rocking your hips just the way you needed, moaning louder in his ear. All he could've hoped for was that this would satisfy him, but clearly you loved it too, and that made him twice as desperate in an instant. "Fuck, it's coming— the knot," he warned with a gasp. "M'gonna breed you. Fuck. Gonna give you pups."

"Bill," you sobbed, but he couldn't stop talking as he fucked you faster and rougher than ever.

"Gonna be so fucking pretty— so fucking full," he groaned, "full of me. Gonna be mine now."

"Yeah," you panted.

"Gonna be so good for me, m'gonna breed you over and over—"

"Fuck!" you whimpered, and he could feel you pulsing, creaming around him; it was enough to make a growl echo in his chest.

"Mine," he insisted again, "my girl. Say it."

"Yours," you promised, "fuck, I want it— knot me, Bill, breed me—"

He already was, as soon as you said he was yours: the base of his cock filled and he heard your words break into a shaky sob as it pushed you to your absolute limits. He'd imagined he might pull the knot out of you before it got too big, to save you the pain, but now that he was here he had no intentions of keeping it anywhere but safe and warm inside you. "Good girl," he praised, "all fucking mine. Can you feel it? Feel me breeding you?"

You were speechless, just shivering and nodding; he could feel your tears, they were running down his chest as you pressed your face against him, and he should've felt guilty for how much he loved it.

Still, a bit of sanity was returning now that his knot was inside you, his come filling you— and not a drop of it would go to waste, with him keeping you plugged like this.

He held tighter onto you and laid you back on the beg again, kissing your tear-stained face.

"Tell me you're okay," he requested quietly, and you just nodded. "I'm sorry, I— not everything I said was— you won't get pregnant, there's a potion for it."

You smiled a little. "It's fine."

"It's fine, as in, it's fine that I said it, or... it's fine, you won't take the potion?"

Your wide, teary eyes looked up at him, and he figured he might have said too much, but he couldn't find the heart to take it back. "Would you... I mean, would you let me—?"

"Would I let you have my baby?" he chuckled. "It's your choice."

"That's... a pretty big favour for a friend," you mumbled, and he laughed before he nuzzled his face against yours.

"How about if I'm in love with you? What then?" he whispered. "And if you loved me to? Maybe we could..."

"Yeah," you breathed, "okay. Maybe."

He purred happily as he kissed one of your tears away. "Good," he said, "because I think when this knot goes down, we might have to start all over."

#30k sleepover #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley smut #request

[fever-fluff]

Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All Pt II

Word Count: 3.5k (not proof read) Am I writing this instead of doing my finals? Yes. Is it going to be worth it? I bloody hope so. Please do tell me what you think, I didn't expect the first part to go down as well as it did so I hope this lives up to expectations :D

Synopsis: The fallout of Azriel finding out about the bond is bigger than anyone though it would be

Thoughts swirled in your mind as you tried to find Azriel. You’d checked everyone house, the training ring, even going as far as to walk through Velaris aimlessly until you could spot some trail from your mate.

Gods, how had you messed this up? You knew Azriel’s feelings towards the mating bond. In your first few weeks together, he’d explained everything that had happened to his brothers, how they’d found their other halves in the form of two sisters, and that he was sure the third had been meant for him. It had ached to hear him talk of Elain like that, to know your mate was so sure of another that he could not see you right in front of him.

But the shattered tether between you two had torn long before that. Azriel had been sealed shut to the rope intertwining you two for centuries. You had pushed so much love into that bond in the beginning, so much that it had grown thick and blinding on your end, but slithered to nothing at his. Mor and Feyre had helped you come to terms with that, and you never faulted Azriel for guarding himself so tightly. Rhys had mentioned in a off handed conversation that Az was the toughest out of everyone to breach when he needed to speak with him, that he’d built his mental walls so high of his own suffering even one of the most talented Daementi found it sometimes impossible to penetrate.

So, instead of withering away over a bond that would never snap, you had stopped pouring all your love into something only you could see and began pushing it into your words and actions over time. Azriel had accepted it all, finally overcoming his preconceived loss and accepted the love of his own accord. But now you’d gone and torn down everything you’d built with him in months over a few seconds.

You’d looked all day, and he was still nowhere to be found. So, you’d call it a night and look tomorrow, not looking froward to the cold sheets that awaited you.

Except they weren’t cold, a very real, very sombre looking figure with curling wings sat on you side of the bed. You felt the tears of relief spring to release, and made to sit in front of him, an acceptable distance away so as not to touch him in fear of him turning away.

“Azriel?” you hadn’t felt this meek in eons. The weeks gone by had truly taken their toll.

“Did you just say that today to get them off your back?”

Gods, you truly wished he could feel the bond right about now. Feel how much it pulsed in the admittance one of you believed it didn’t exist. Azriel was your life force, what you lived and breathed for every second of everyday. How could he think this was not real? Any of it?

“No, gods no. Azriel, it’s real. It’s there, I promise you.” If he walked away now, you didn’t think you would be able to handle it. Everything had been good, so good. Was looking to have him all to yourself for a couple weeks the wave that toppled the boat? Was your selfishness the flap of the butterfly’s wings that sent an earthquake through the rest of your life?

But the darkened look from Azriel was enough for you to know this was not about you. He wasn’t asking to catch you in a lie. “I-I can’t feel it. It’s never snapped, and it’s been months. How-how can you still be here?”

Leaving the distance between you had been a mistake. Lunging for you mate, you placed your hands either side of his face, and lifted his tear filled eyes to meet yours. “Because I love you, Azriel. Bond or no bond, I love you.”

He shook his head, “there’s nothing to love. I can’t even feel something so innately ingrained in our beings, how can you find anything worth so much?” he had turned his back to you, standing to walk to the dresser.

“Azriel, do not walk away from me.” Fuck being nice, he never responded to your pretty words when he was like this before, how could you think different now. “Shout at me, curse me to Hel, but never walk away from me.”

“What…what can you find in me that you’d rather me stay than go?!” he was spiralling into the darkness that had swallowed him in the first years he had been in this world. Azriel was throwing you his lifeline, and you reached and tugged on it with everything you had.

“Because you’re made for me! In every sense of the word. You are everything I’ve ever wanted for every century I’ve been alive. And even if you cannot feel that I have been made for you, I will prove it every single day of this life and the next that you are wrong if you think not.”

You had stepped up to him again, searching his eyes to see if he’d truly heard you, “I know you hate those stupid parties, I know you hate it when Cassian leaves his sweaty towels in the ring after training. You don’t like the tea Rhys gives you in your early morning meetings, but you still drink it because its been 150 years and to admit it now would make you look bad. I know that Mor’s perfume, the one she wears when the seasons change from winter to spring, makes your nose itch and you sneeze every time you smell it. You don’t like Elain’s scones because of the raisins, and Feyre’s awful singing to Nyx at the crack of dawn.”

“And I love all of you, Azriel. Every damn part of you. The only thing I would change is how much you allow everyone you’ve let into your heart walk all over you.”

Azriel’s breath hitched and the tears that clung to his lashes finally trailed down his cheeks. “I – I… what if it never snaps. What if the bond never snaps for me? What then?”

Closing the distance that had grown once again between you two, you made to grab for him. Holding his face to yours, you felt your tears fall as your mate’s hands covered your own. “Then I’ll love you even more than I already do. I don’t need you to feel the bond Azriel, if you never feel it, then it’s okay. I will love every broken piece of you, even if I can never put them back together.”

You meant it. Every word. Azriel had been broken too many times for you to even think you could fix what hadn’t been whole since he was born. But those pieces of himself, the ones he clung to so desperately and allowed only a few fae to ever glimpse at were worth so much more to you than anything else. You’d hold them, even if they cut and sliced you over and over, and press them close to your own heart, hoping that the love there would be enough to stop them from shattering entirely.

“Ask me to stay, Azriel, and I swear to you that there will not be a day that you won’t know how much I love you.”

You could see the doubt in his eyes, the fear that one day the half-made bond would not be enough to keep you with him. But you needed him to take that risk. And you would take care of the rest. He needed to have the faith to jump, and it was only him who could make that choice.

And as he closed his eyes, resting his head against yours, you felt your whole world tilt on its axis, ready for the words that would seal your fate.

Stay.

It had been fifty years since that day, and Azriel finally began to understand that you were there to stay.

The weeks after the admittance of there being a bond between you had been some of the toughest he’d ever lived through. But it was no one’s fault but his own.

He’d pushed you repeatedly, subconsciously seeing if you would snap under the pressures he shouldn’t have ever needed to place upon you. Rhys had given you leave of your position for the few weeks, but in the end you hadn’t returned to your post for a full year after everything. His constant tearing at your relationship had snapped and sliced at you so much you had become so tired it was even a chore to fight with him, and he realised almost too late that you would rather endure it than leave, nearly turning you to a shell of yourself.

He'd been gone for nearly two months at this point. The mission shouldn’t have taken this long, but Azriel couldn’t find it in himself to return.

Every time he did, this knawing guilt would eat at his insides about fighting with you once again. It wasn’t your fault, it never was. You tried everything to support him, and yet he kept pushing and even he couldn’t understand why.

Cassian and Rhys had sent word not too long ago that he was needed back at the earliest time possible, and it had been their words, not yours, that spurred him to return to the city.

He should’ve answered your letters.

“She’s not responding to the treatments like she should. It’s too slow, and I fear the malnourishment is starting to outweigh whatever help I can give her.” Madja’s words iced his whole being, Cassian and Rhys looked away in shame.

“Where is she?” the plea in his voice did not go unnoticed by the others, but none seemed inclined to tell him.

“Azriel, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see her right now. We called you back in case anything serious should happen.” Cassian placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged away from the hold. “You don’t get to make that decision. She’s my mate! I’m supposed to help her!”

“You should tell him.” It was Nesta, coming out from putting Nyx to bed. “Maybe he’ll finally get it through his thick skull if he sees what’s happening.” She’d never used that tone with him, harsh and cold unlike anything he’d heard except the first few months she’d been brought to their court. He felt himself want to cower in the face of Lady Death. You two had always been close, your ability to take on Nesta’s bite and stop it before it festered allowed her to settle a new bond outside of Emerie and Gwyn, something everyone was glad for.

Rhys sighed but relented, and Azriel winnowed to you before any of them could change their minds.

You had been moved to the cabin, away from prying eyes of the fae who’d attempt to do harm while you weren’t your full self. Feyre and Mor had placed extra wards in case, and he had to call to Rhys to ask them to let him through as he felt them blocking his path.

The cabin was warm, fire blazing in the hearth as he made to search the room you were staying in. But the bundle of blankets on the couch had his feet lurching to turn in its direction. You were sleeping, although it was fretful, and the feel of his hand barely grazing your skin was enough to snap you eyes open.

“Az?” You were like ice, and the croak in your voice reminded him of how Feyre had been when Rhys had first called in their bargain all those years ago.

“It’s me.” He reached for your hand, intertwining it with his as he lifted you to sit up. The blankets fell from your form, and his breath hitched to see your bones protrude more than was healthy. Gods, how had he not noticed until now?

Your smile was what broke him the most. Lips chapped, it didn’t reach as wide as it did before, and the warmth it usually held was dulled to a small ember. “Did you get my letters?”

The letters. Oh gods, he hadn’t read any of them. Too scared of his own thoughts that one would be about you leaving before he arrived home.

His reaction must have told you everything you needed, and your smile dropped as your eyes turned like glass. “Did-did you not want to come home?”

Fuck, what had he done?

“I-”

Azriel never finished that sentence. Your head had rolled to the side as he made to catch your falling form. Sitting up had become too much for you, and the little energy you had was expelled in the very few words you’d spoken to him.

Rhys. He called for his brother. Rhys, what do I do? What’s happened?

His answer was almost immediate. Madja says she’s been strained too much. It’s the bond cracking. Even if you can’t feel it, all the fighting has been tearing at it from her end.

He’d done this. He’d torn at her so much he was going to kill her.

Gathering her in the blankets, he lifted her down closer to the warmth of the fire, settling her to his body as he wrapped his wings around them both. Her breathing began to even out as she fell into another shallow sleep, but it seemed she had enough strength to hold onto him, curling her hands in the front of his tunic. “Please stay. I don’ wanna fight anymore, Az. Please, just stay.”

Azriel tightened his arms around his mate, the one who’d given him everything even as he tore her down to nothing in the past few months. “I’m here. I promise, no more fighting. I’ll stay.”

The mark weaved onto the shadowsinger’s skin, burning into it like no other bargain had ever done before. It settled where her head now rested, over the fractured parts of a heart he had refused to allow her to put back together.

But as sleep pulled her further under, Azriel swore he could feel one part stitch itself slowly to another. He’d mend it. If not for himself, then for the woman he had nearly lost to his own darkness.

She wouldn’t leave, he knew that now. But he would no longer make it so hard for her to stay.

Watching now, as she sat having tea in the garden with Elain, Azriel thought of how he’d been so foolish in his first five hundred years of life.

If he’d just waited, and used all those wishes at starfall he wasted on Mor and Elain to instead wish for a chance to meet his real mate, he go back to all that time ago and start over.

You were laughing unabashed at Elain’s annoyance with the sprites leaving bite marks in her prized tulips, keeling over as the middle Archeron shooed them away for the hundredth time.

His own smile turned up at your outward display of happiness. It had taken a while, and months away from one another to get back to this point after he’d realised his mistake. Madja had been helping you recover, while he spent time with the Priestesses to figure out how to get past his own fears and love you like you loved him.

You had sent him word of how you were doing every week, never pressing him to write back but letting him know you’d be waiting when he felt it was right to return. After the first few, he has picked up his own quill and began spilling his thoughts onto paper.

Azriel had realised that while you would put him above all else, that wasn’t always a good thing. He needed to learn how to do that for himself so you wouldn’t lose yourself again. And he had.

He was still the courts spymaster, but his workload had dropped immensely in the past few years. He trusted his spies more often to fill the menial tasks he once filled his time with, and instead spent it doting on you like he should’ve from the beginning.

His heart was slowly mending itself, and he was now more comfortable within himself to not allow the darkness in him to stray from the light.

The last pieces of the puzzle were finally placing themselves back when he’d asked you about the bond and how it felt. You explained to him that it was there, thought it was purely a string of thread between you. Because of the block on one side, you couldn’t feel his emotions or his thoughts, and it had settled something in him he hadn’t realised was so restless.

You truly had loved him for him. There was no extra help from your end, you had to put in just as much as him to make it work.

Grabbing his mug from the counter, he rounded to the door that would lead him out to you. As if sensing him, you turned, and gave him that wonderful smile that had his whole body humming in delight.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He wrapped himself around you as you greeted him. “You were dead to the world this morning. I’ve never seen you sleep so soundly.”

His hum vibrated against your neck as he placed a kiss on the tender skin. “I was. Couldn’t wake up even when you left. Something has me more tired than usual.”

Being open with you like this was still new to him, and there was still that knawing at the back of his skull that he shouldn’t be revealing something so vulnerable. But as you turned in his hold and wrapped your hands round his middle, he felt it subside. “Maybe its all those years of running on practically nothing creeping up on you.”

“Maybe.” Even now, his words broke off into a yawn, and he felt himself cuddle into your warmth as a soft breeze blew in.

“Well, its lucky we have the day to ourselves then. I asked Rhys last night if we could take a little break.” He could still feel your apprehension as you spoke. It was still there at times, unsurety settling in when you doubted how he’d react.

“I would love nothing more.” Placing a kiss onto the top of your head, Azriel made to pull away to grab his mug.

“Sit. I’ll get us something to eat.” You made for the door he had walked through, but the smash of ceramic had you head snapping back to Azriel.

“Az?”

His breathing had turned heavy, and all that weight of tiredness had lifted from his body in an instant.

Turning to face you, you watched as he mouthed something you thought you’d never hear from his mouth with such reverence.

Mate.

Fifty years. Fifty years of utter turmoil and love and pain and happiness. All of it washed over him at once. He felt the bond, coiling and snapping and threading its way round his very soul. It was thick, more like rope than a mere tendril. And he felt everything he’d shut out from the very moment of meeting you for the very first time. He watched the realisation hit your face, your hands shaking as if you didn’t know whether to grab for him or stay where you were.

“You- you can feel it?”

He felt his voice choke on the simple yea and it was all it took to have you running into his arms hard enough to force you both to the grass beneath you. Laughter, pure and loving laughter spilled from your lips, and he pulled you as close as possible. His own joined not a minute after.

Azriel felt it thrum from you to him, everything you had to give poured down to his side of the bond, as if it had been waiting for this moment. He supposed it had, and as he took everything you had to offer, he returned it tenfold.

Azriel realised then that it wasn’t his heart from stopping the bond from forming. Even if it was still broken, it would have found a way to wrap around it.

No, the only thing that had stopped it all this time, was he fear of giving everything and receiving nothing. Even when you had shown you would, his own mind had fooled him into believing otherwise.

But you had never blamed him, and the missing part of himself had finally returned home when he had stopped blaming himself.

Azriel knew then that he was worthy of the love you gave him, and that you had been right. Even if the bond had never snapped, he would still love you just as much as you loved him.

Taglist (bold could not be tagged) @kalulakunundrum @imnotsiriusyouare @notsarareallynot @mell-bell @ang-taylorsversion @finleyjaycee @luvletterstogwyn @dwkfan @sagskylar01 @hnyclover

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel angst #azriel spymaster #azriel #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fanfic #fem reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel fluff #azriel x you #acotar x reader #az x reader

[bellamybellamyblake]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #acomaf #acowar #acofas #rhysand #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #acotar angst #tw: sa #tw: sa mention

[neet-elite]

*heavy breathing*

Can we have a Seb smut for either cockwarming him or being eaten out by him? Or whatever you want him to do-

Appprreeeciaaate you!

yes yes yes to both ideas, but my boy deserves some relaxing time after the torture we've put him thru recently on this blog </3

MDNI ♡ Warnings: (failed)cockwarming, that's literally it lol

WC: 1205

A shiver runs the length of his spine with every miniscule movement you make, which in turn only causes his hips to rut deeper into you despite his better intentions. A lovesick back and forth that he swears he's determined to set straight, but perhaps you know him better than he knows himself. Or, maybe he's just good at lying to himself. The thought of resisting your temptation is lofty, but surely he has enough self composure to withstand you, right?

"Quit it, would ya?" he laughs warmly, a deep rumble in his chest that soon turns into a hushed gasp of selfish enjoyment when you shift around some more. Because while he does want you to settle nicely, he can't deny how good it feels to have your insides squirm around his leaking cock all nicely, fondness dripping his words and actions when he splays a flat palm over your exposed thigh. "Need to focus a bit, 'kay? Just a little. Then I promise you'll have my full attention."

"Mhm." you reply simply, all soft and sweet as if you were the picture of innocence; if not for the fact that your lower half is completely naked and your cunt is hugging his cock so well, fuck—

And he's not lying about needing to focus; it's partly your own fault too. Coding program open for him to type at, if only you'd finally find a comfortable position to sit in on his lap. He helps a little, leaning back to give you some more leg room before scooching the chair in closer to his desk when you reposition. He knows you've found your final resting spot when you let out a satisfied sigh, and yet still;

"Comfy?" he wants to double check, prioritising your wellbeing over anything else when he draws light circles against your leg as you nod. Perfect, he's comfy too. Unbelievably horny, but comfortable, a special kind of domestic love thrumming through him with a quiet hum. So comfortable in fact that he easily resumes his work. Typing away at his current project with occasional clearings of his throat, brief pauses to re-collect his composure when your cunt 'accidentally' squeezes around his drooling tip. Gently shushing you with quiet coos when you get a bit too restless for his liking, even if he understands completely. He wants to fuck you so bad too.

But you promised to be good and cockwarm him for a little, didn't you? It'd been his idea to begin with. A fantasy he's always wanted to indulge in but just never had the thought to actually bring it up. But when torn between satisfying you for tonight and meeting his strict work deadline, he had to think of something. And he must admit that you look so pretty when struggling to keep your cool with his cock buried balls deep in your angel cunt, a loving smile spread across his lips when he sees just how difficult it is for you to remain still. A knowing one at that, because he too is struggling to keep the sweat of his brow, arm muscles taut with the amount of strain it takes for him to appropriately hold back for works sake.

"Doing so good, babe." he whispers down your ear, biting down on his bottom lip with a roll of his eyes when you merely whine in response, feeling your cunt squeeze harder around his cock simply from hearing his voice. Fuck, that's so hot. "Do that again." he begs of you, a natural response to the tight pulse of your cunt, but one he promptly regrets when his hands instantly fly off his keyboard when you give him what he wants and instead dig into your waist, forcing your hips down, down against his throbbing cock to drool more precum against the deepest parts of you like he isn't trying to focus on work at the moment.

Which he is, remember. A frustrated groan escaping him as he shakes his head in an attempt to refocus, but the feeling of your weight shifting back, and then forward again, almost convinces him to give in.

Instead, he slaps at your thigh, letting out a breathy laugh at the downright dirty sound his reprimand smacks out of you. "I- I need to focus, babe. Seriously." he tries to scold you, but his voice betrays him when it comes out so light-hearted and soft, almost like an encouragement to keep distracting him to the point that he simply has to rail you into his sheets until you can't walk, which is what he would be doing if he didn't do that every other day of the week to the point that he's left his project to the very last minute.

But the way your voice comes out so pitifully, barely there above the thump of his own hammering heart, a meek little "'M trying, Seb. Promise." that conveys just how much you need him; he'd be a rotten boyfriend if he didn't indulge you at least a little more, right? At least that's what he tells himself, a flimsy reasoning to instinctively start rocking you back and forward on his cock until you get the message through your lust filled mind and start moving yourself.

Luckily it's a slow enough pace that he can kind of focus on his work, fingers just itching to be back on your body, to roam up and down it and squeeze at your pretty fucking tits, shit— focus, Sebastian. Trembling over his keyboard with half-hearted attempts at coding, which turn truly useless when his cock pulses inside of you with greed, the computer chair under him squeaking ever so slightly as he helps you set a more gratifying pace with a lazy back and forth of his own hips.

A gentle curse crawls up his throat when he leans into the feeling of your slick coating his cock some more, completely covering his length all the way down to his balls. A sickly squelch soon filling the room as his hands remain tense and stationary, hovering above his keyboard more than anything else, as if the illusion of working was enough for him in the moment, your perfect little cunt coaxing him into moving with more commitment into you when you moan his name so sweetly.

"Baby..." he trails off into a similar moan, throwing his head back in sheer bliss from the slow tandem thrusts. "Really— ah, fuck— I gotta, uh... Gotta—" his train of thought is lost the moment you lift your hips, breath caught in his throat to brace himself for what comes next.

He's got no chance of simply cockwarming you when you start bouncing on his cock, and you fucking know it. Knocking the wind out of him as soon as you slap back down, all caution thrown to the wind the second you start to rise again. And because he's greedy, his hands find home on your waist once again to be the one fucking you, thrusting up into your wet little hole over and over again as the previous cockwarming offer is readily forgotten about.

You just feel better than the payment his project offers, he thinks.

#💌mail #appreciate u too friend !!!! #<3 #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut

[sadgirlbaby]

THE RUBBER MAN SUIT - tate langdon x fem!reader (smut)

(author’s recommendation: play this song while reading this)

CW: explicit sexual speaking, dirty talk, cussing (a bit), unprotected sex, p in v penetration, cumming

SUMMARY: (tate is a ghost whom was haunting your house. he was the only one beyond moira that wanted to show himself to you since you first arrived there. you and tate became friends since that time and often spent time together). you couldn't find tate anywhere so you checked in the basement but you surprisingly found him wearing a weird but sexy black rubber suit.

you were peacefully doing your homework but you knew that tate did not want you to go to school as he wanted you to stay with him. you were extremly trying to focus on studying but then you remembered you hadn't seen tate for a while.

"tate?" you asked while looking around.

you didn't receive anything as respose so you stood up off your chair and went looking for him.

after a couple of minutes of wandering around your house you suddenly thought about the basement.

you went down the stairs and got into that lightless place of your apartment.

"tate? are you here?" you said standing in front of the staircase as you didn't want to dive into darkness.

"tate? I don't like this... please show up" you said as you were shaking in fear. you liked darkness but that was way too dark to walk in or even see.

you suddenly heard a plastic noise coming from the darkness and a small light suddenly turned on. your heart skipped a beat as you saw someone very creepy standing in front of you. they immediately unzipped the mask and showed their face, you sighed at the sight of your friend.

his slim figure was emphasized by the tight material that he was wearing - it was a black rubber suit that suited him perfectly.

"omg you scared me, tate... don't do that ever again" you said while catching your breath.

"did I scare you? god, I thought you weren't afraid of anything" he said back.

"I am not. I just got worried since I couldn't find you anywhere".

"where did you think that I could have be gone? I can't get out of this house" he reminded you.

"you're right, but... what the hell are you wearing?" you said.

"just a black suit I found here. how do I look?" he turned on himself making you stare at his suit.

"good... really good..." you were lost in thought as you did really think he looked good in that suit. you could not express yourself since he was way too fine.

it was weird for you thinking that your friend tate was hot. his fluffly and messy blond hair, his reddish lips, his deep and dark eyes, his hips and his sluttly little waist freaked you out.

"what are you looking at?" he smirked noticing your inattention. you instanlty blushed thinking about him finding out about your fantasies.

"nothing" you replied.

"hmm..." he groaned and got closer to you. you didn't lift your stare as you didn't want to see him gazing at you in that way.

"nothing?" he repeated.

you finally raised your head and laid your eyes on him. your lips felt like they were pulsing in eager of kissing his.

tate gazed at yours too and he looked like he was mesmerized by them. he suddenly got closer and slowly pushed your waist against his. he kissed you. you closed your eyes and he did too. your lips were connected and your tongues were already happily dancing together.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly pushed his head towards you to kiss him easily.

"was this "the nothing" you were thinking about?" he slowly left your lips and looked at you seductively.

you lowered your stare and he smirked.

"kiss me again" you said.

he didn't even hesitated and immediately pressed his lips on yours again. you could feel his desire of wanting more just by touching his lips. he started to breathe heavily and his grip on your hips got stronger.

"I want you." he affirmed.

"hm?" you mumbled while kissing.

"I need you." he said and instantly grabbed your shirt and pulled it off exposing your breasts still covered by your bra.

"what are you doin-?" you tried to speak but he immediately kissed you again to keep you quiet.

then he looked at you with heart shaped eyes and pulled your jeans off too. your panties came off with your jeans.

"this tight suit is gonna be hard to take off…" he said and unzipped it. he tried to be as quickly as he could and once he took it off, you noticed that he wasn't wearing any type of underwear under that black rubber suit.

he couldn't wait any longer so he picked you up and smashed you against the first wall he saw.

"hmm" he groaned as he entered his cock into you. you jolted and automatically clinged to him.

"oh- oh my god..." you panted.

"you're so fucking tight..." he groaned and kept thrusting harder and harder.

his cock was a little bit bigger than you expected so it was hurting but it was like a satisfying pain, an excitating pain.

your walls wrapped around his erection and he sped up his thrusts.

this action made both of you gasp. his labored breath against your neck could make you cum instantly.

"fuck..." he said. his thrusts were wild and intense.

he softly kissed your neck giving you goosebumps and you just kept moaning. you were staring at the ceiling with your half open mouth and your legs shaking.

he was a total mess as well and he couldn't hold it anymore.

you digged your nails into his back giving him scratches and marks everywhere and he was actually enjoying that. this was a motivation for him to thrust faster and harsher.

"you feel so good..." he moaned.

tate was sweating and also whining a bit. he was praising you and your unique body.

his skin got hotter and he knew that he was about to cum. the sight of you crying out his name made him even hornier. he sped up his thrusts one more time he couldn't get enough of it.

he kissed your neck leaving wet kisses all down your soft skin. this filled you with stomach butterflies and had you moaning louder.

"tate- I-I'm c-cum-ming..." you whined.

"cum for me baby" he said.

you let yourself release and made tate cum instantly. he refilled your walls with his seed and orgasmed loudly.

he slowly slowed down and then he kissed your lips. you french kissed, then tate put you down and you both got dressed again.

"wait" he said as he grabbed your wrist.

"you're beautifully beautiful" he smiled and stared at your eyes.

you let out a soft laugh and kissed his cheek as you dragged him out of the basement.

reminder: requests are always open and you can request about whoever you want. currently taking requests for ahs only!

note: guess who’s back! me ;)

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#imagines #headcanon #smut #ahs smut #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters imagine #evan peters smut #smut stories #tate langdon #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fanfiction #tate ahs #tate x reader #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x you #tate langdon smut #tate langdon x y/n #murder house #ahs murder house #american horror stories #americanhorrorstory #Spotify

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

Careful- Emily Prentiss X GN Reader!

Synopsis: You get injured in the field, and Emily just wants you safe.

Warnings: Descriptions of wounds but not really, Emily just takes care of you. Mostly fluff, basically a Drabble. No gender specified.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n: I wrote this just so you guys have something while I finish this forsaken Lesso OneShot, I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get anything out. I'm currently working two jobs and saving up for my own place so I'm a bit busy Imao.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎��☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Emily's gun had fired a loud shot, but it wasn't loud enough to cover the sound of your seared gasp.

Her one bullet had taken out the unsub, but not before he got a bullet of his own out. Only, his bullet traveled straight into your shoulder.

Her gun was still trained on his body, now being checked for a pulse by Hotch, but her eyes were trained on you.

You were clutching your shoulder, blood now oozing through your fingers, partly hunched over trying to calm your breathing.

You were used to the pain of bullets, it was nothing new to you, but that didn't make the pain any better.

"Y/n?!" Emily shouted, gaining the attention of the team.

"I'm okay! I'm okay! Let's just secure the scene and find the hostage." You stood straight once more, trying to go further into the house.

"Y/n, you've been hit! You need medical!" Morgan came up to your side.

"It's not the worst thing I've dealt with, let's go!" Everyone on the team has been shot at least a handful of times, and everyone has been abducted at least once, you can manage a shoulder hit.

"Y/l/n, wait outside for medics. That's an order." Hotch finally added.

An annoyed groan came from you but you still did as told from your superior.

You didn't wait but maybe ten minutes before two ambulances showed up, presumably one for you and one for the hostage.

Emily desperately wanted to be at your side while the ambulance took you to the hospital, but Hotch ordered her to go with the hostage to wait with her while her family arrived.

To her dismay, Emily didn't get to leave the hospital until you had already gotten a ride back to your shared townhouse.

She sped down the highway, going as fast as the car would let her. She was a federal agent, what would the state officer do even if they could pull her over?

You'd think you were barely clinging to life with the way she sped and swerved the lanes.

Truthfully, she was just concerned. She couldn't see you at the scene before you were hauled away, and then the family had to fly in from another state to see the victim. It was safe to say she was desperate to see you.

You were unsurprised to hear a car speed into the driveway. Your townhome wasn't the biggest, so you heard the tires screeching while you were in the bathroom, trying to pull off the bandage from the back of your shoulder.

Not even 10 seconds went by from the time she pulled up in the drive to the moment she was walking through the front door.

"Y/n?!" You sighed, knowing how this conversation would go. It goes the same every time one of you gets hurt.

"In here." You shouted from sitting on the vanity.

Again, not a moment passed before she was by your side.

Emily walked through the bathroom door to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, first aid supplies and wrappers all skewed around you, topless and trying to reach around to your back. To your credit, you had gotten the bandage mostly off, just some of the medical adhesive was out of your reach.

Emily could see the stitches on your shoulder, briefly looking into the mirror and seeing your exhaustion she also caught a glimpse of another bandage.

"A through and through?" Was all Emily asked, she's seen you in this situation far more times than she'd like to admit.

You merely nodded, giving into trying to take off the bloody bandage. Normally you would've left it alone, but you guessed a stitch ripped and it caused you to bleed through the bandage.

Emily wordlessly took over, you knew she would, and carefully pulled the rest of the bandage off. She paused a bit as she heard you let out a seared gasp.

"Sorry, you're good." You caught each others eyes in the mirror.

"That was stupid, Y/n," She spoke softly.

"Emily..." You groaned, you've been here before and you just wanted a clean wound so you can go to bed.

"Y/n, you knew the profile. And you still tried to reason with the guy!" Emily was annoyed but she wasn't truly surprised, you've always tried to be the voice of reason with anyone, and you've always been the one to try to keep the bullets from flying. The irony, right?

"I know, Emily! I was stupid and reckless, I've heard it before. And I'll hear it again tomorrow from Hotch when I have to write a report, just leave it. Please." This conversation was one you could recite from memory, hearing it a few times a year.

She sighed, "I know, look I'm sorry. I care about you, okay? I just want you to be more careful."

"I know you do Em, that's how I am with you too. And we both know that we both agree to be more careful until the next case comes along." Emily said nothing as she taped the clean piece of gauze onto your shoulder.

She tapped on your uninjured shoulder and you took your silent cue to turn around for her to replace the other gauze.

"You got lucky." Her tone was laced with concern and you could tell she tried to hide the little bit of impression in her face.

She was right, you managed to talk the doctors out of giving you a sling as long as you promised to take it easy. And as you said, you promise until the next case comes. Hopefully there'll be a week before the next case...

She started to say something else but you weren't paying attention to her words. You were paying attention to the way her brows furrowed with concentration as she avoided the wound while cleaning. You were focused on how she was delicate yet precise with her movements, probably from all the experience she's got.

Emily wanted to be upset with the fact that you weren't listening to her advice, but she really couldn't. It wasn't the fact that she's a broken record, telling you things you've heard hundreds of times, but the fact that you were so almost entranced by her.

Emily couldn't help but notice the look in your eye, it's the same one she has when she looks at you. How even though you were in pain, you were still mindful of her.

But that's the thing, pain or not, Emily was still the same sensitive person you fell in love with. She was your painkiller. Always there to make you feel better, regardless of the ailment.

"Thank you, Em." You said quietly as she finished up on the front piece of gauze, collecting and tossing the trash from her work and your attempt of bandaging.

"Always. I'll always be here for you." She said in the same softness you spoke in.

"You promise?" You looked her directly in those beautiful eyes.

She hesitated a bit, knowing of her past she can't guarantee anything, especially a long life with you, "I promise."

You simply smiled and rested your head on her chest. This move of yours filling her heart with the love she's always wanted, the love she never thought she deserved.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @just-your-casual-nerd @v3nusxsky @bigolgay @hxzxrdous @pebbleswritessometimes @sgelessoanddoveykissing @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs, lmk if you wanna join my taglist!

#fanfic #oneshot #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #x reader #gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan

[yawnderu]

Stray - Chapter I

Chapter II

—Oh, mother... 

Bruised knees sunk slowly into the worn-down mattress, making sure to not wake up the sleeping woman. The moon shined through the old, tainted windows, giving the knife in her hand an almost demonic glow. 

—Can't say it was a pleasure. 

In a swift movement, the knife was plunged into the neck of the sleeping woman, dragging it across in a messy line, making eye contact with the now wide-open eyes of her own mother. As fast as it all went down, it ended. A smile painted across her young face, seeing the life fade away from the same eyes that used to look down on her. 

She woke up in a cold sweat, gasping and grabbing for anything she could find on her nightstand, feeling around until she found it- a small bottle of pills. With trembling hands, she took one, two, three pills, counting them multiple times as well as she could in her frantic state. She put them in her mouth, trying her best to swallow them with her limited saliva only. 

As she starts to look around her room, panic starts slow down. I'm safe. I'm in a military base, protected by a bunch of people with guns. No one can ever break in. I'm okay. I'll be okay. 

She reassures herself, repeating it over and over again in her head like it's a mantra, carving it out in her brain with as much care as possible. She turns on the light on her bedside table, grabbing the knife she keeps under her pillow as well as her phone. Shaky hands struggle to turn the flashlight on, quickly jumping out of bed and crouching down as she shines the light under the bed, knife ready in her other. Nothing. It's okay, I'm okay.

Her breathing slowly calms down, heartbeat not pulsing in her throat anymore as she checks the locks of her quarters a few times, making sure everything is locked before making her way to the bathroom, where the shower curtains are always kept open. It's okay, I'm okay.

With everything checked, she goes back to bed, looking underneath one more time. Nothing, still. She sighs as she sits in bed, holding her head on her hands, the cold sweat making her feel sticky and disgusting. She tries to ignore it and go to bed, but at some point, she can feel herself sticking to the bed, thin sheets clinging to her skin. 

''Fucking hell.''

She sighs as she stands up, knife on a secret part she personally added to her pajama pants as she leaves her room, making sure the door is locked a few times before leaving to the communal area. The lights are on, surprisingly. She opens the door and almost decided to go back until she realized she wouldn't be able to sleep at all without a warm drink. 

''Ghost.''

She says, trying her best to sound as calm as possible, still not fully relaxed from the time she woke up, and the man with the skull mask making it even worse for her. 

''Stray.''

You could sense a hint of annoyance in his voice. They have been on each other's throats ever since she joined the 141, with him thinking she was not ready to be a part of their missions. She had proved him wrong multiple times, yet he was way too stubborn to let go of it and apologize. She wasn't innocent either, taking every single chance she took to brag about the cool things she did better than Ghost. Dropped a sniper first? Brag. Threw a knife to a man who was going to shoot them down? Brag. Sniped someone down before him? Brag. 

She walked past him, setting the tea kettle to prepare a warm drink. She simply stared at the sink as the water was warming up, feeling his stare on her the entire time. She didn't want him to see her like this, all weak and pathetic, as she says. 

''Want some tea?'' She asked softly, her voice slightly shaky and she still didn't dare look at him. 

''No.''

He replied shortly- clearly not interested in engaging in conversation with her. She nodded her head, grabbing a singular mug and a bag of chamomile tea from the counter. Her shaky hands struggled to pour the water in the cup, trying her best to be as accurate as possible to not make a mess and embarrass herself even further.

As she finished making her tea, her shaky hands grabbed at the mug and sat on the table, as far away from him as possible. It was too much- his piercing gaze on her, the nightmares, the way her clothes felt like clothes at that moment, everything. She was zoning out until she felt a burning pain on her hand-having spilled a little bit all over it. She hissed softly as she looked down at her hand, quietly examining the damage and hoping he didn't see her mess up. 

''Bad night?''

It was the first time ever he asked her a question unrelated to work, besides an "are you fuckin' daft?" whenever she did something stupid and his piercing gaze was there to see it. She simply nodded her head, still not daring to look at him as tears were staring to pool under her eyes and her leg started to shake. 

''Why do you hate me?''

She asked in the gentlest voice he's ever heard from her. It's usually screams to him, bragging about things she did, and annoying teasing. Nothing is ever good coming from her, at least from her voice. Simon knew she was a damn good soldier but would simply never admit it. He stared at her small frame for a few seconds, thinking about the right thing to say, knowing she was vulnerable. He couldn't find anything.

''I don't.''

And it wasn't a lie. Simon didn't hate her- he didn't like her, either, but he didn't hate her. Besides her annoying behavior, she had never done much to make him hate her. Cold eyes stared down at her as he got up, walking over to her slowly before crouching down to her height, examining the burn before sighing softly. 

''Get up. We're goin' to put some cold water on it.''

There was no hint of annoyance in his voice, no... nothing, really. His voice was calm as he spoke as he guided her to the sink, putting her hand under the cold water, relieving her physical pain. The warm bare hand holding hers relieved a little bit of the psychological one. 

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley x you #cod mw ghost #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #soap cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john price #captain price #captain john price #captain johnathan price #mw2 fanfic

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For it

Part 4 - Word Count 2450

A.N: I'm not gonna lie this part had me keeping my feet in glee. I love this man.

Prev ... Next

The sleek, black sedan glided to a stop, pulling up behind her car in the driveway. Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through her veins.

Stepping out of the house, she smoothed down her outfit – a slim fitting pair of flared leggings and a number 86 jersey, her heart pounding as she prepared to meet him once again.

The chauffeur, a distinguished-looking man with a crisp uniform and a friendly smile, greeted her with a nod as he opened the door, ushering her into the warmth of the car.

“Miss y/n, after you.” Y/n smiled happily at the man, climbing into the backseat of the car. The soft hum of the engine provided a soothing backdrop to Y/N's racing thoughts as they began the drive to Newark.

Y/N settled into the plush leather seat of the car, she felt her phone buzz with a new message. With a quick glance at the screen, she saw Jack's name pop up. Y/n couldn't help but smile as she read his message. “Hey gorgeous, hope you're as excited for tonight as I am.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she typed out a response, her fingers hesitated over the keys while her thoughts raced as she tried to strike the right balance between interested but not desperate. After all, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his words affected her.

With a soft sigh, she tucked her phone away, a faint blush staining her cheeks as she leaned back in her seat, now unable to look at his messages without grinning at her phone like a total doofus. This was going to be an interesting night, to say the least.

…

With a quick glance around to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything, Y/N stepped out of the car and into the crisp fall air, her breath forming delicate clouds in front of her.

The glow of the stadium lights illuminated the bustling crowds, casting long shadows across the pavement. Jack's chauffeur followed suit, quickening his pace, and holding open the door to the stadium as she stepped inside.

The interior of the stadium was a hive of activity, with fans milling about, the scent of pretzels and cheering fans filled the air. The red jerseys of the home team dotted the sea of humanity and filled her vision as the chauffeur expertly weaved through the throngs of people, expertly avoiding collisions and maintaining a steady pace.

Finally, they arrived—a secluded room overlooking the ice, complete with plush seating and a panoramic view of the game below. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her, her eyes widening in wonder at the sheer luxury of it all.

This was beyond anything she could have imagined, and yet here she was, about to watch the game from the best seat in the house.

As the game got underway, Y/N found herself captivated by the flurry of activity on the ice, her eyes darting back and forth as the players vied for control of the puck.

The sound of skates scraping against the ice and the thud of bodies checking into the boards filled the air, creating an electric atmosphere that seemed to pulse within her bones.

Y/N's gaze kept drifting back to one player in particular - the team's star forward, with his chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes. He moved with a fluid grace, weaving in and out of defenders with ease and leaving a trail of admiring gazes in his wake.

She couldn't take her eyes off him, even as the action shifted to the other end of the ice. And when he finally scored the game-winning goal, she let out a triumphant cheer that echoed throughout the arena.

…

Y/n jumped as her phone buzzed in her pocket, the vibration startling her out of her pre-game visualization. She pulled it out, heart fluttering when she saw Jack's name on the screen.

New Message from Jack: Meet me outside in 5?

She squealed quietly to herself, bouncing a little in the privacy of the suite. Y/n smoothed down the front of her jersey, the Jersey Devils logo crinkling under her fingers. She'd been dying to see Jack since her arrival, thrill filled her as she realized she could finally be with him again.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n stood and checked herself in her phone camera. Her hair was still tamed in its neat bun, and a light sheen of lip gloss remained on her lips.

The arena was empty aside from her and security. Y/n grabbed her belongings, walking to door, and made her way down the hall towards the exit.

She found the doorway to the stairs and ascended quickly, pushing through the heavy metal door at the bottom.

A blast of crisp, late-autumn air hit her face as she emerged onto the sidewalk of the Prudential center. The hockey team was scattered in front the bus, their breath forming clouds as they waited for the head coach.

Y/n scanned the area, looking for that familiar mop of brown hair. An arm draped over her shoulder as she spoke with the other hockey players.

Y/n froze initially before recognizing Jack's familiar body wash. A laugh escaped her lips as she turned to look up at him, catching his warm blue eyes already gazing down at her with a smile.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jackie making his move," one of the guys called out with a laugh. The rest of the boys joined in, nudging each other as they laughed and whistled teasingly.

Jack just grinned and pulled Y/n a little closer against his chest. She could feel the firm muscle under his hoodie and tried to suppress the shiver that went through her. Get it together, Y/n, she told herself sternly.

"Alright, alright, let's load up!" the Coach bellowed, clapping his hands. The team started grabbing their gear bags and sticks, heading inside the idling bus. Jack kept his arm firmly around Y/n as he led her away.

"I've got a surprise for you," he said, voice low in her ear to be heard over the ruckus of the city.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as he caught her hand, tugging her away from the bus. She followed without a word as Jack led her towards a sleek black car in the far corner of the lot.

…

Jack opened the passenger door for y/n with a little flourish. "After you, m'lady." She couldn't help but giggle, shaking her head at his cheesy chivalry as she slid into the buttery soft leather seat.

The interior of Jack's car smelled like expensive new car - a mixture of leather and something vaguely metallic.

As Jack rounded the car to the driver's side, she took in the sleek lines and high-end finishes. She ran her fingers along the woodgrain trim, amazed at the luxury.

The driver's door opened and Jack folded his frame behind the wheel. He shot her a wink as he turned over the ignition, the car humming to life silently thanks to its electric motor. With a press of a button, the panoramic sunroof slid open, letting in the cool breeze.

"Wow..." Y/n breathed, craning her neck to look up through the open roof. Soft R&B filtered through the speakers as Jack put the car in reverse, expertly backing out of the narrow parking space.

He draped one arm along the back of y/ns headrest as he checked his mirror, his chin just inches from her cheek. She caught a hint of his intoxicating cologne and felt her stomach flip.

Once out on the main street, Jack downshifted and accelerated with a gentle surge of power, merging seamlessly into the heavy Friday afternoon traffic. He seemed so at ease behind the wheel of this fancy ride.

"So..." y/n prompted, still looking around the city in awe. "You want to explain where we're going?" Y/n kept stealing glances over at Jack, admiring the strong line of his jaw and how his features were cast in dramatic shadow and light from the passing streetlights.

He must have sensed her watching, as he briefly cut his eyes over with an unreadable expression. A little half-smile played at the corners of his lips before he returned his focus to the road.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Jack signaled and took an exit ramp. He merged them through a few side streets before pulling into a vast, nearly empty parking lot.

Y/n gasped softly as the enormous neon lights of the aquarium came into view, bathing the interior of the car in their brilliant bluish glow. She felt the excitement bubbling up inside as she looked over at Jack with a huge smile.

He killed the engine, throwing them into stillness and silence, save for the distant rumble of traffic. Jack turned to face her, catching and holding her gaze. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he regarded her for a long, lingering moment.

Then, he flashed her a lopsided grin. "Surprise..." he said simply with a little shrug. Before y/n could respond, Jack hopped out of the driver's seat and came around to her door, opening it with a gentlemanly flourish. "For the lady," he said with a playfully snarky bow.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at his antics as she took the hand he offered. “As you should.” She said as Jack tugged her up and out of the car with surprising strength, pulling her right into his arms.

"Try not to swoon," Jack murmured low in her ear, gesturing up towards the twinkling aquarium lights. She could only nod, biting her lip to stifle her beaming smile as he laced their fingers together and led the way inside.

…

The double doors parted with a whirl of circulated air, and Y/n was immediately enveloped in the aquarium's hushed, reverential atmosphere. Soft blue lighting bathed the high ceilings and winding corridors in an ethereal glow.

"Welcome to Ritual Rift's acclaimed aquarium," a staff member greeted them. "One of the largest all-shark exhibits in the country." "No way..." Y/n breathed, clutching Jack's hand a little tighter. Of course, the arrogant jock would go big for a date.

Jack squeezed her fingers, turning to flash her a crooked grin. "Pretty cool, huh? But we've got the whole place to ourselves tonight." Y/n looked around in awe of the spacious opening, the sound of the fountains fille the almost empty corridor.

"How did you even swing that?" y/n arched an eyebrow, aiming for nonchalance though her heart stuttered at the thought of the intimate night ahead.

He shrugged, puffing out his chest. "I've got connections. Shall we?" Without waiting for her reply, Jack tugged her further inside. His hand was furnace-hot against her chilled fingers.

They wandered in silence for a while, taking in the luminous floor-to-ceiling tanks housing exotic sea creatures from around the globe. More than once, y/n caught Jack openly watching her with unabashed longing as the shimmering lights played across her face.

Don't read into it, she cautioned herself. Jack's been this way with every girl...

Still, she couldn't resist leaning closer when he draped his arm along the back of a bench, drawing her against his side as they watched a pair of deadly reef sharks glide effortlessly through their display.

"They're gorgeous..." she murmured, captivated by the sleek, powerful bodies cutting through the water.

Jack hummed an agreement, his fingertips ghosting unconsciously along her arm, raising delicious goosebumps. "I've always loved sharks. Admired their...tenacity."

She shot him a sidelong look at the clear double entendre but didn't object when he tangled his fingers with hers once more, squeezing firmly.

…

They continued on that way, Jack monopolizing any chance to touch her - resting his palm at the small of her back to guide her around a corner, draping an arm lazily around her shoulders, sidling up unnecessarily close as they stopped to examine a new tank.

She searched for any hint of mockery in his warm eyes but found only naked sincerity, causing her heart to stutter. As they entered a dimly lit cove, Jack stopped so abruptly that y/n nearly slammed into his back.

He turned and steadied her with hands on her waist, holding her there as a spinning vortex tunnel stretching high above them whirred to life.

Y/n steadied herself with her hands braced on Jack's firm chest as the tunnel whirred and began rotating around them. An array of vivid sea creatures appeared to swim in mesmerizing circles up the walls.

Jack's hands slid more securely around her waist, drawing her flush against him. She could feel the deep rumble of his chuckle against her chest.

"Pretty wild, right?" His lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Though I've seen some moves on the ice that could put these animations to shame."

Y/n rolled her eyes, grateful for the low lighting that hid her furious blush. "Is that so, Hotshot?"

"I don't know, y/n," Jack said with a little smirk, purposely using the shortened version of her name she hated. "Maybe you should show me some of your moves sometime." He punctuated the cheesy line with a wink and a little quarter-turn of their bodies in time with the spinning tunnel.

"You'd just love that, wouldn't you?" She arched an eyebrow, keeping her tone as dry as she could manage while hyper-aware of every place their bodies touched.

Rather than rising to her sarcasm, Jack's gaze had fallen resolutely to her lips. He reached up with one hand to tenderly caress the side of her face, letting his fingers linger perhaps a beat too long as they grazed her flushed cheek.

"Maybe I would..." he murmured in that deep, rumbly timbre that had her breath hitching. She opened her mouth to fling back a pithy rejoinder, but any coherent words died on her lips as Jack began to slowly, inexorably lean in close, she could feel his warm breath fanning against her parted lips.

His body tenses as their lips finally meet in a long-awaited kiss, the kind of kiss that’s filled with electricity and sparks. Every inch of their body is press against each other.

When the kiss finally breaks apart, it feels like time stopped with it. Y/n’s heart is pounding against her chest and she can’t help but stare at Jack with parted lips, as if waiting to kiss him again. Jack leans away, getting a better look at her face, his eyes filled with the same passionate look.

#fluff #angst #masterlist #new writers on tumblr #new fic #jack hughes fic #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x you #new jersey devils #jh86 #nico hischier #jesper bratt #luke hughes #quinn hughes

[writeslikeanaria]

Can you please write an omi fic of him losing his v card with mc (But make it realistic like an adorable bumbling doof? Mistakes, miscommunications, giggling, bashfulness) XD

These HL boys are becoming far too suave for my liking lately lmfao!

Xxxx love your writing btw

virgins do a standup special

ominis gaunt x reader

summary: two sassy kids have private fun time for the first time ever. or, author has way to much fun writing dumb shit. (i spiraled. i'm sorry. but thank you for requesting!!! and thank you for enjoying my writing!!! i'll do more of it i promise.)

word count: 1.9k+

warnings: SMUT, author went wild, first time woohoo, oral!m recieving, reader needs to self pleasure badly, bad attempts at comedy, p in v,

requests open! request here :) (i normally write better than this is swear)

Celibacy didn't look the best on you.

Staring at your reflection, you followed you tired eyes back and forth, drained from the restless night you had just slept. Hours spent, holed up in your hot bed, sleeping next to your quiet boyfriend, as you tried desperately to not shove your finger down your panties.

This night was no different. It was just past two in the morning and your mind had yet to drift into slumber. The crackling of the gentile fireplace and the hum of the sea breeze outside had not worked their magic to soothe you to sleep. Ominis, on the other hand, bless his heart, was out like light, sleeping like the Inferi. Sometimes, you had to place the pads of your fingers to his pulse point to even check if he was still breathing. Yet, he was, his breath puffing from his soft lips in small doses, his clothed chest rising and falling with his rhythmic heart song. You longed for that type of peace.

Instead, a fire roared inside of you. Sweat drowned your forehead as you glanced at yourself in the mirror beside his bed. It was full length, allowing you to see both yourself and you sleeping boyfriend behind you. Except, every time you would stare at you boyfriend, the fire would ablaze. Everything Ominis would do was like tinder. You pouted at yourself, ignoring the waterfall between your legs.

You were being courteous, is what you told yourself. Six months of dating and nothing more than your tongue deep inside his mouth. You were fine with it – really, you were – but you wished you could just progress past Ominis' gentleman hands, and onto the more animalistic side of him.

Too busy staring at yourself, you hadn't even noticed the stirring figure behind you, waking from his sleeping beauty rest. Humming deeply, Ominis rolled over, wrapping his arm around your sitting hips. He coughed softly to break in his sleepy timbre. "What are you doing?"

Not even fazed nor startled at Ominis' tough or voice, you sighed in response, shrugging your shoulders defeatedly. "Just thinking. Go back to sleep. You need your beauty sleep, Prince Charming."

Ominis snorted at your joke, but scooted closer to you, until his head was resting in your lap, breath fanning over your bare thigh, barely anything keeping his face from your most exclusive area. He rubbed his cheek against your soft skin lovingly, before pressing his lips gently to the tops of your thighs.

"Talk to me. Maybe it'll put me back to sleep." Ominis spoke, voice still not fully warmed up. After a pause in the conversation where you couldn't reply, Ominis piped up again. "I want to hear your thoughts."

You lifted your hand to his hair, and stroked the blond locks in an attempt to slow your racing mind. Biting your lip, you felt the guilt rush up your body. Lowering your head, ashamed, your voice came out in a mere whisper.

"I want you."

Ominis lifted his head slightly, life rattling under his skin. His lips turned into a confused frown, eyebrows knitted together into a stout line. "I'm right here? Do you think I'm leavi–"

"No." You stopped his words, before letting out another sigh. "I want you. In a sexual context." You weren't sure if your words were clear enough, so you spoke again. "I'm horny."

Still having not replied, Ominis stayed still, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he remained deep in thought. The wait was killing you as your boyfriend stayed quiet, the only time where his silence wasn't endearing, but exceedingly frustrating, considering the rainforest coming into season on the flesh side of your panties.

"Please say someth–"

"I'm a virgin."

"I know. I'm your girlfriend. We share these things." You snapped, not in a harsh way, but in a way where Ominis knew that you weren't truly upset with him. Biting your tongue, you restarted your speech. "I'm sorry. What I meant to say was, I know, but, sometimes I have needs. And I recognise that you may not want to sleep with me, and I fully respect that. I love consent, big fan. Some might even call me a consent groupie, but on top of that, I just need to let some inhibitions go occasionally."

"Wait a second–"

You did not, in fact, wait a second. "You know, when you woke up, I was actually staring into this mirror, trying to decide what the etiquette around masturbating next to your boyfriend was. I was a couple minutes around from taking myself to pleasure-smeade and praying that you'd stay asleep. Or maybe I should've gone to the bathroom."

"Hold on–"

You didn't hold on. "It's just that I don't like masturbating in bathrooms. It's way too cold, and I have this fear of the tap just turning on and a ghost walking in, or even just someone rattling the door nob–"

Ominis bit into your thigh to shut you up. You yelped in response, smacking your hand over your mouth to stop any more surprise noises from escaping your throat. You grind your teeth together. "What the hell was that for?"

"I'm trying to tell you that you don't have to pleasure yourself next to me." Ominis hissed back at you. "I would be very happy to," his voice dropped low, to almost a whisper, "make love to you."

You stared at your boyfriend, your polite, bashful boyfriend, whose face was now a lovely scarlet, long eyelashes downturned as his words come out like the crudest word someone could think of. You smirk.

Leaning down, you sink yourself off the bed, and onto your knees in front of Ominis, kneecaps hitting the hard, cold floors beneath you. You knew he couldn't see you, but you stared into his eyes anyway. "I'll give you a blowjob if you can say the word 'sex'."

The scarlet crossfaded into burgundy. Ominis let out a small gasp, before placing his hands over his ears and whispering out into the world, "sex."

You laughed, leaning up to place your lips against his, pressing as much love as you could muster through the emotion in your kiss, but you were unable to stop the giggles from coming out. As you both laughed your way through your pash, your nimble fingers made their way to Ominis' pant's waistband, flicking at the fabric, until your impatience wore down to the thinnest layer of the earth. Tapping your fingers at his waist, you encouraged Ominis to stand up slightly, so you could shimmy the rest of his pant down his leg, revealing his briefs, with a very strained cock protruding from it. A very large cock aswell.

"How the hell am I supposed to fit that into my mouth?"

Ominis furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would I know? It's your mouth, isn't it?"

You pinched his thigh. "But have you seen the size of it?"

"No. There's many things I haven't seen."

Ignoring his cheek, you slowly roll down his briefs to reveal the mammoth you were so afraid of. It was longy, veiny, with moles covering it's ivory length. You squeezed it experimentally and relished as Ominis let out a long hiss of approval.

Meekly, you let your hands wander the length of his cock, mesmerised by it's very being. "I've never actually seen one of these upclose before, only in those muggle education books we have in the library. It's actually different from what I imagined." You licked from base to tip and hum and the texture. Ominis' thighs tensed. "I thought it would be more, rock like, but it's reminding me of... soft rubber."

Ominis let out a throaty gasp as you alternated from stroking, licking, and just straight up babbling about his cock. "You know, darling, it is just skin and muscle, I thought you would know th–"

He was speaking too much. Deepthroating your boyfriend, you watched as his entire face contorted, hands reaching into your hair, and lacing his fingers into your locks. You didn't mind the pressure, slowly lifting yourself off the cock, and then back down again, catching a rhythm.

You stopped running your mouth and focused on giving Ominis the pleasure he deserved. Through sloppy and wet noises, your lips suctioned around his member, tongue gliding over the ridges of his cock. Humming occasionally at the salty taste oozing from the tip, you watched out for all the signs that Ominis was enjoying this as much as you.

His head was thrown back, eyes closed, as sweat enclosed his neck and collarbone. His teeth had pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and refused to let go, blood cracking from the skin. The fingers in your hair had not relenting, staying firmly in place as you worked your magic, which is how Ominis so easily lifted your head off of his cock after a short while.

You fake pouted. "I was actually enjoying myself."

Ominis snorted. "You sounded so lewd that I thought that you might've been replaced with a whore."

You slapped Ominis' dick in response. "You know, if I wasn't so horny right now, I would've taken offence to that comment."

Pulling you upwards, you met Ominis' lips once more, adjusting yourself so you could sit in his lap. Grinding down on his exposed crotch, you let out a moan, right in Ominis' ear, just so he wouldn't miss it, or mistake you for someone who wasn't so ridiculously turned on right now.

"I want to put my penis inside you now." Well, that was direct. You let your head fall into the crook of his shoulder, trying to stop your laughter from deterring him. "I would like that very much."

Satisfied with your answer, Ominis hoisted you up my the butt, and laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs seductively, and sitting between them. His warm hands rubbed soothing circles on your thighs as his brain tried to figure out what to do next.

You cocked your head. "Would you like me to remove my panties?"

"Oh," Ominis' eyebrows raised. "Only if you don't mind."

Rolling your eyes, you pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them off to the side and resettling yourself on the bed. You should've felt more exposed, completely bare and presenting your pussy like a modern piece of art, but Ominis made you feel so unbelievably safe. You smiled at him, knowing that he wouldn't be able to see, but not caring anyway.

"Gotta find the hole..." Ominis brought his fingers up to your unmentionables and starting rubbing around until he found a hole. Unsure, he bit his lip out of confusion. "Its... tighter than what I was expecting." Beat. "And drier."

"Ominis, that's my anus."

"I was just kidding..." He wasn't.

Fixing his hand placement, Ominis tried again, fingering your cunt with the dexterity and delicacy of a moose being told that he has to cook, and not really knowing how to, because it's a moose.

When he was sure he had found the right hole, he gripped onto his cock, and lined it up to your entrance. "Are you ready?"

You nodded.

"By the sound of the rustling pillow, I'm going to assume you nodded." Ominis slowly started entering you, both of you letting out harmonious moans over each other. The pleasure was almost too good as Ominis thrusted in again and hit that perfect spot and–

"Unghhh...!"

Came with six seconds.

____

i'm so sorry for whatever the hell this is i'm actually so tired and out of it but i hope you enjoy this. i love writing i love words i love metaphors i am a god.

#ariadne writes #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt x reader #fanfic #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x you

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | wc: 2.1k | tags: getting together, fluff, love confessions, Steve takes care of Eddie | @steddielovemonth Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him | AO3)

The first time Steve feels Eddie's heartbeat, it's barely there. It's so faint that for an endless, terrifying moment, Steve thinks he's lost him.

That he's too late.

His fingers are on Eddie's neck, and there is so much blood that they keep slipping as he keeps searching for the reassuring thump-thump-thump of a pulse. Next to him, Dustin is sobbing and babbling, begging Steve to help Eddie, to save him. It brings tears to Steve's own eyes, the pain in Dustin's voice too much for him to bear. He shouldn't have left them alone, he should have come back sooner, he should have been better.

When he can't find what he's looking for, Steve presses his ear to Eddie's chest, desperate for some sign that he's not too late, that he hasn't failed his friends. That he hasn't let Eddie down.

Steve wants to cry with relief when he feels it, barely perceptible, but there. Eddie's heartbeat is pounding in his veins, pumping blood to wounds that need to be tended to right away.

"Come on, man, you're going to be okay. Just stay with me, Eddie. I got ya, you'll be as good as new, I promise," Steve swears not only to Eddie, but to Dustin as well. Even to himself, because he wants to believe it, too. Has to believe it.

Brown eyes, glassy with pain and blood loss, slowly open and blink up at him. "Steve?"

"Yeah, it's me. The guy who told you not to be cute, not to be a hero, but of course you didn't listen, did you?"

Inexplicably, Eddie grins at his words and Steve sees a deep gash in his cheek.

"You think I'm cute," Eddie says, sounding pleased even though it's obvious how much talking hurts him. It's easy to agree with him in this moment, anything to make Eddie happy and stop him from arguing.

"So cute, I'm going to sweep you off your feet now, Eddie." And with that, he scoops Eddie up in his arms, wincing at the way he whimpers in pain. "You gotta hang in there, yeah?"

Steve stumbles toward the trailer, wondering how he's going to get Eddie through the portal, almost missing when Eddie says quietly, "I'll try.”

They make it to the hospital, just barely. The doctors whisk Eddie away before Steve can check his heartbeat again, and he can't get his mind to stop its panicked mantra of too late, too late, too late. It's like his mind refuses to believe they made it without any tangible proof.

So later, when Eddie is out of surgery but still not allowed visitors, Steve sneaks into his room when no one is looking. Eddie's uncle is not there yet, and the room is eerily quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

It should be enough to reassure Steve that Eddie is, if not okay, at least alive.

But he isn't.

It's only with his ear pressed to Eddie's chest and hearing the rhythmic and steady beating of his heart that Steve is finally able to take a breath and let the tension seep out of his exhausted body. All he wants right now is to crawl onto the bed and let the sound lull him to sleep.

They almost lost Eddie. Steve almost lost Eddie.

It is with a mixture of surprise and confusion that he realizes just how much the thought hurts.

The next time Steve feels Eddie's heartbeat, it's not through his chest, but through the pulse in his veins.

This thing between them was so new and exciting, and Steve really had no idea what he was doing. Only that since that moment in the Upside Down when he had first pressed his ear to Eddie's chest and felt the faint beating of his heart against his cheek, something had changed.

Not even in a monumental way. It wasn't something Steve could have put his finger on at first.

But something had changed.

There was a new awareness of Eddie in Steve's mind, a space carved out just for the other boy. Like a beacon sending out signals, Steve always knew where Eddie was in a room and what he was doing.

And then there was this current that ran between them. Every time their bodies so much as brushed against each other, Steve could feel it. Sparks of electricity and heat coursing through his veins.

It was both heady and intense, making Steve wonder when he would reach his breaking point, unable to take it anymore, and finally act on it.

In the end, it was Eddie who snapped, kissing Steve with lips that tasted of cheap beer and the grilled cheese sandwiches Steve had made for them. But Steve returned it eagerly, licking happily into Eddie's mouth while his hands had cupped Eddie's face, holding him as if he were precious.

One thing led to another, and soon Steve had Eddie spread out on his sheets, the scars on his body like wildflowers blooming in the aftermath of life's wildfires. Each mark a testament to the battles he fought and the strength that ran through him like roots anchoring a majestic tree. Because he survived, he fought to stay with them, and only because of his strength is Steve allowed to hold him now.

That's why he made sure to caress each and every scar with his hands and mouth, baring his own heart in the process.

When his lubed finger first entered Eddie's body, Steve was as overwhelmed as Eddie, both men needing to catch their breath as their hearts thundered in their chests. At first Steve thought it was his own heart beating so hard he could feel his pulse in his finger. But then he realized it was Eddie's wild heart beating against Steve's finger inside him in a loving embrace.

Steve never knew that he would ever feel someone else's heart so intimately. That he would be able to feel it's rhythm from inside another's body, as if he was holding Eddie's heart in his own hands.

And when he finally sank into him, Steve lay still for a plethora of eternities, reveling in the sensation of Eddie's heartbeat welcoming him home.

Even though Steve wouldn't be able to say those words aloud for another two months, he knew that what they had done that day was love.

The day Steve finally finds the words to say how he feels about him, he can feel Eddie's heart saying it right back to Steve's palm on his chest.

They've been dating for two months now, and though they have to be careful in a way Steve has never had to be before, he wouldn't trade it for the world. Not if it meant falling asleep in Eddie's arms and waking up to the sight of his boyfriend's nose scrunched up adorably as his wild curls tickle it where they don't spill across the pillow they share.

Steve hasn't said them yet, those three words he's only said to one other person, but he tells Eddie every day in his own way. A million little things, from lingering touches to meals prepared to comfortable silences shared.

He tells Eddie he loves him every day when he puts his head on Eddie's chest to feel his heart beat in that steady, rhythmic way that says he's alive. That there is a future, not an almost, but a maybe. A hopefully.

Eddie always lets him, holding still when Steve pushes him down and climbs on top of him so he can lie comfortably and listen to his favorite sound inside Eddie's body. If Vecna were still alive, which fortunately he isn't, Eddie's heartbeat would be the song that could save Steve.

As they lay there, Eddie kept tapping his own rhythm on Steve's back. It's always the same, a song Steve doesn't recognize but has come to love as much as anything else about this impossible man beneath him.

On this particular day, Steve has just finished folding laundry when the doorbell rings. He drops the sweater he's been holding and goes to the door, wondering who it could be. Robin was on a trip with her parents and the kids had school. He and Eddie would see each other tonight at the trailer, have a quick and early dinner before Wayne had to go to work, and he and Eddie would spend the rest of the evening satisfying the ever-present hunger for each other.

When he opens his front door, he's surprised to see Eddie standing there, but one look at his face is enough to tell Steve that something is wrong. He quickly pulls Eddie inside and closes the door before wrapping his boyfriend in his arms.

"What happened, baby?" He asks in a soft voice, feeling Eddie tremble in response. Steve knows that Eddie had a job interview today, down at the new record store, and he was so excited about it. The owner, Stuart, was new in town, so he didn't know who Eddie was or what people thought about him. It was the fresh start Eddie so desperately needed in a town that never quite let him forget that in their eyes he's still a murderer and a freak.

A growing pit in Steve's stomach tells him that some people had been forthcoming enough to tell Stuart all about Eddie before today's interview.

"Was it the interview? Did Stuart not hire you?"

Eddie shakes his head silently, and Steve thinks it's as much an answer to his question as it is Eddie asking not to have to talk about it. Steve understands. When things get too much, too overwhelming, Eddie goes silent. It takes time for him to find his voice, and Steve has learned to give him that time.

He begins to rock him gently, humming a song to himself as he holds Eddie in his arms.

Steve doesn't know how much time passes before Eddie finally lifts his head from where it was buried in Steve's neck to look at him.

"Cyndi Lauper, really?" Eddie teases, and even though it still sounds a bit weak, Steve takes it as a win.

Still rocking gently, Steve puts his hand on Eddie's chest just above his heart.

"What can I say, it makes me think of you." And Steve begins to sing, his voice soft as his eyes never leave Eddie's.

You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged

Oh, I realize

It's hard to take courage, in a world full of people

You can lose sight of it all

And the darkness inside you can make you feel so small

But I see your true colors shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

And because he can't let Eddie have the slightest doubt about what Steve is trying to tell him, he says it again: "That's why I love you, Eddie."

Under his palm, Eddie's heart is still beating strong and sure, faster than usual, and Steve wonders if that means he's excited or scared by Steve's words.

The look in his eyes tells Steve it's the former.

Eddie's hand settles over Steve's on Eddie's chest and he begins to tap it gently in a rhythm that Steve has become familiar with.

Tap tap pause long tap, short tap, long tap, short tap, short tap, short tap, long tap, long tap pause long tap, short tap, long tap, long tap, short tap, short tap, long tap, short tap, long tap, long tap.

"That's how my heart would beat for you if it could, Stevie, spelling the same thing over and over again."

And he repeats the rhythm again, as if it meant something. Spelling the same thing...

"Is that... Eddie, is that Morse code?"

"I keep telling you, you're a lot smarter than you think you are, sweetheart. Want to know what it says?"

Steve thinks he knows, but he wants to hear Eddie say it, so he nods.

"I," Eddie says and taps Steve's hand twice on his chest.

"Love," he adds and follows with a series of taps, long, short, long, short, short, short, long, long.

"You," he finishes and Steve's smile widens with each tap of his hand. Long, short, long, long, short, short, long, short, long, long.

Eddie has been tapping those words against his skin since the first time they made love.

"You've been telling me that all along," he marvels, his voice full of wonder and love.

Eddie finally kisses him, painfully tender. "My heart has been trying to tell you ever since you started listening to it."

And Steve thinks maybe Eddie is right, it just took him a little while to understand its language.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddielovemonth #day 8 #Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him #nsft #My writing

[testingthewatersss]

Yes, YES, imagine...

Modern problems Usual Winter Solider context warnings but this is pretty tame tbh Bucky Barnes x F Reader Imagine 2977 words Fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI

Requests open for a while via messages check masterpost for updated availability.

"It wasn't even a real gun, Buck" you insist, leaning against the door frame.

"that's not the point" he replies, face set in annoyance.

"You can't push someone through a locked door because he has a paintball gun in a gas-station!"

"He's lucky I wasn't aiming for the wall" he mutters petulently. Luckily, he's gotten quite good at not being overheard by now, even by you. 

"Sweetheart," you say, softening your tone in response to his body language, which is the total opposite of his attitude. He's making himself small on the edge of the couch you share, and despite the boldness of his actions and his adamant denials of doing anything wrong, his eyes seem full. 

"He wasn't anywhere near us..."

That makes him scoff, you take the opportunity to pace over to him, taking his face in your hands. His jaw is set under your fingers but still, he lets out a gentle breath as he looks up at you, yet another layer of well-practised bravado falling away. 

"He was heading straight for you, doll" he says quietly, "he was headin' straight for you, and your back was turned and you didn't even know he was armed-"

"-He wasn't armed though, was he love?"

Guilt flashes across his features then, and he quickly averts his gaze. So, in return, you lower your palms to his. Tangling your fingers together to stop him fussing with his hands in his lap.

"He could've been" he counters, "You don't understand how dangerous the world is, Y/N. When I- before, back in the forties things were different-"

"Oh, yeah..." you chuckle, letting him pull you onto his lap, "with rationing, and dancing and bombshelters and the second world war, I'm sure things were just overflowin' with safety"

That manages to make him crack a smile. It's short-lived, it vanishes with a subtle shake of his head, but still. It's so lovely that you can't help but lean down and kiss him. 

Bucky feels his whole posture start to soften the moment your lips meet his. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins for hours starting to drain away, replaced by the loud thrumming of his pulse. He relishes in it. Happy to drown in the warmth of your embrace instead of panic for once. 

You trace his temples with your thumbs, rubbing your nose against his as you feel his arms close around you, holding you tight to his chest. 

"I don't mind you keepin' me close" you allow calmly, "I don't even mind you actin' like a security gaurd in public- but you've gotta ease up a little. I can't keep callin' Nat to clean up after us whenever I run an errand, she's gonna start cashing in favours one of these days and I don't even want to know what that might mean."

"I can keep her away too" he mumbles into your shoulder, the words hot on his breath, "I can keep you right here, Sugar. The whole world can go to hell"

As if to prove a point, his metal arm locks in place. You laugh gently, stroking his hair as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. 

"Stop acting like everythin' is out to get me, Barnes" You instruct, tone failing to hold any genuine authority when his pouting face comes into view.

"It is" he counters, deadly serious, "You just don't see it"

"Or..." you allow, "maybe you see it too much"

He shakes his head, staring at you now, blue eyes imploring you to understand;

"You're so delicate" he murmurs, flesh fingers tracing across your arm adoringly, "you're always gettin' hurt, darlin'- last week you couldn't walk right for three days-"

"Because I tripped on the stairs" you insert calmly, "Not because the stairs attacked me, and not because I'm fragile"

"-The stairs to the subway" he agrees, "The Subway, which is a whole other death trap-"

You snort, but all humour leaves you when you see the seriousness of his expression. 

"It's a packed can of compressed metal filled with strangers and trapped underground" Bucky continues, "It could catch fire, it could crash- anyone on it could-"

"-Hey.." you whisper, stopping him before he can get too carried away, "statistically speaking, this is the safest time to be alive y'know? Sure, flying cars would be a nice change, but the-"

"Cars" he sneers, "Don't get me started"

That makes you laugh, the pure, untempered grouchiness of his complaints and his real disdain for cars paired with the look of stubbornness on his face is funny. Even if you not taking his concerns seriously only adds to the gristle in his tone.

"Y/N/N" He says, "I mean it, you- you are so, so precious to me, darlin'- I couldn't stand it if anythin happened to you, and I know you don't see it but you're human, and the world is-"

"Made for humans, by other humans" you remind him, kissing his brow. "And you shouldn't call me human and imply that you're not"

He rolls his eyes at your scolding and flexes his arm, making the metal plates groan, as if to prove a point. 

"You're still human" you argue, not willing to waiver on that point at least, "A bionic arm and some Stark Industry vitamins doesn't change that, and when it comes to life outside of this tower I am just as safe as you are."

"That's worse" he sighs, head dropping back to rest defeatedly on the couch, "You bein' as safe as me is so much worse than just you bein' on your own, doll- Don't you see that?"

"Not really," You tell him honestly, "but even if it were true, it wouldn't matter. Safety isn't owed to anyone, except maybe you-"

"And if HYDRA decide to pick you up as a hostage?" he says, voice stern now, "or if they just decide to kill you on the spot, just to mess with me, and Tony, and Natasha, and Steve and all the other targets that you've gotten yourself tangled up with?"

"Then I'd think that you, and Tony, and Natasha, and Steve would do your jobs, that you'd keep yourselfs and each other safe while you got to the whole Avenging part of your job."

"I'm not messin' around', Y/N" He sighs, peering up at you defiantly, "I'm serious-"

"So am I," you say with a shrug, "Gettin' old is a privilege, not a right- And, thanks to every one of those targets you mentioned, I am one of the most overly protected people on the planet. Tony has my cell phone and my Apple watch synced up with FRIDAY. My location and my vitals are monitored by SHEILD, all day- everyday- I live in the super-hero equivalent of an armoured tank and I am going to marry the most protective man that has ever lived. I am fine, and if one day I'm not, then I'm real sorry, Buck but I'll have died happy and it'll be more your problem than mine."

"Exactly" he grumbles, deliberately ignoring the humour at the end of your statement "It'll be all my problem, because I love you and I-"

"I hate to break to it you, Buck," you say, "but that is part of bein' in love. Supersolider or not, the hardest part of loving anyone is knowing that you could lose them. That you will lose them someday, if you wait long enough, but that doesn't mean you both just hide away until you die of old age, it means you live the best life you can together so that when one of you is left behind you have it all to look back on."

"You've been spending too much time with Steve" He relents, "You're gettin' a little too good at motivational speeches"

"You're the one who got into the habit of bringin' him to date night- to every date night"

"80 years ago, darlin', I thought he'd grow out of it eventually"

"He still might," You say softly, bringing your palm up to his cheek. 

He huffs out a sigh before closing his eyes and nestling into the warmth of your skin on his, pressing a soft kiss against your wrist before nodding. 

"I'm sorry" he murmurs, "I'll try and give you s'more space, whatever you need..."

And then his face is falling, his arms loosening just enough for you to notice, and the way his lips quirk downward makes you want to just build a bunker deeper than any subway and let him move you in there instead.

"I don't need space" You're quick to assure him, "I need you to use some of those under pressure thinkin' skills and check before you decide someone is a threat" 

There is a genuine look of remorse on his face now, it makes your heart ache in your chest. It's so sad that you feel your own conscience sting in response, knowing that your conversation has fuelled it, 

"I love you" you tell him, unable to not- "I love you a whole lot, Barnes and I refuse to be the reason you have another regret. You hear me? Not a single new regret- not a small one, because you call me three times in a row and Sam gets you thinkin' it's too much and definitely not one that involves some jerk at a bar that gets a little close or some red-neck getting snacks for his road trip, so you better make sure that the next threat you neutralise is a threat, okay? That's all I want."

"I thought he was," he says lamely, "I really thought he was, doll- I saw the gun and I saw you, and I just wanted him gone"

"Well..." You sigh, smiling softly, "He went- With a slightly broken arm, and a huge compensation cheque from Tony, so, as long as you promise to not feel too bad about it, then it looks like we might both get what we want."

He hums softly, not giving much away regarding his opinion on the matter. 

"Why are you still sulkin', handsome?" you wonder, looking at his face again. There's an unhappy crease in his brow, and even though he's trying his best to seem like he's fine, there's something about the way he's watching you that doesn't seem quite right.

"'s nothin'" he mumbles, forcing a smile, "I'm just sorry for puttin' you through this every few weeks, I am tryin, darlin' to get better about it."

You shake your head, quickly deciding not to scold him for feeling guilty, knowing that any playfulness the teasing might hold will be lost in favour of more misplaced guilt. You settle on kissing him, on running your fingers through the tangles of his hair as they slip back behind his ears. On tracing his cheeks as he pulls you ever closer towards him. He doesn't let up until he's verging on breathless. Until his desperate, frantic urge to protect you is satisfied that you're real and solid and exactly where you belong. He knows logically that you're right. That you're safe, as safe as you can be anyway- but the world is so full now. The Brooklyn streets he'd grown up on are more like concrete jungles, infested with noise and lights and cars, and people. He used to love that. The living, breathing soul of the city that never sleeps. The crowds in the daytime and the scattered laughter that would drift in through a cracked fire escape at night. He'd sit up on the roof for hours smoking cheap cigarettes and just watching, and he never once felt scared.  Even when the war first stirred, even then, the people were the one thing that he wasn't afraid of, they were his home away from home. Men he'd never known suddenly felt like family, as soon as they were packed in the back of a transit car. Crowded dance halls meant freedom and packed underground shelters meant protection. But somewhere along the way, they all became threats. Dark, faceless shadows that move around in swarms, making noises that he's never expecting and getting too close to the one thing that he could never bear to lose. Operating machines that they shouldn't be touching, huge metal busses that sound like they might collapse, or elevators that could break, or ski lifts- of all things to exist, huge wires with weak seats that carry people up too high, and you are so breakable. Your ankle a week ago was just the latest injury, before that you hurt your shoulder at the gym, lifting a huge metal barbell that he can't comprehend you touching, and before that tripped in a pothole. The road itself hurt you, because a person didn't do their job and get it filled and he can't trust anything, or anyone other than a handful of people, and all of them just parrot the same thing about you being fine. 

You stay still, resting your head on his chest, letting him settle himself by holding you in place. You had been tempted to start speaking again, until you'd noticed the way his fingers were moving, ever so gently tapping a rhythm against your side. A slow, steady pulse. Your pulse. An exact mirror of your heartbeat, which is a complete contrast to the thrashing of his own. 

As long as he can feel that, then he knows you're alright. That you're not scared, or hurt, or in danger, and that is the only way that he stands a chance of calming down himself. 

"Can you give me five minutes?" You purr, reluctant, but suddenly overwhelmed with an idea, "You can come" you offer, sweetening it with a peck on his cheek, "I just want to go and see Tony about somethin'-"

To your surprise, he chuckles at that, releasing his grip on your waist to paw at his eyes. 

"Should I be worried, doll?" he asks dryly, "I'm here lovin' on my girl and she suddenly wants to go see another man-"

The way you snort makes him smile wider. He kisses you again, on your knuckles this time, before letting go of your hand, feeling a pang of curiosity as you half skip from the room, a grin splitting your face.

It doesn't take long. Ten minutes instead of five, maybe- but not long.

And when you are done, feeling awfully pleased with yourself, you find him in the kitchen, cutting carrots by the sink with the radio playing at such a low volume you can't help but wonder why he bothered turning it on at all.

He looks over at you without missing a beat with his knife and grins wide and genuine when you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss against the back of his shoulder. 

"I got you something" You announce proudly, beaming as brightly as him when he turns, leaning back against the marble counter to face you, "Somethin' that might make it easier for you to relax"

"I told Tony" he scoffs, "I'm not taking anything he cooks up in that lab- I don't care if he thinks I need a Xanax, whatever that is-"

You laugh at that, small and tempered as you reach into your back pocket, pulling out a small, plain dog tag. 

At least that's what it looks like. An unengraved dog tag, complete with the small hole, waiting for a chain. 

"Thank you?" he says, aiming for pleased, trying not to let his confusion show, especially since you seem so happy to be giving it to him, "It's-"

"You're too polite for your own good- you don't even know what it is yet"

"I've seen more of them than you" he counters, opening his palm to receive it, "but I think you're meant to write somethin' on them, doll-"

The second he touches it, he stops. Words dying in his throat. He doesn't realise yet, not completely, but he's instantly captivated by the warmth humming through the metal. 

Your smile turns smug as you reach out, curling his hand around the tag, putting his flesh thumb flat across the surface-

There it is. It's your pulse, thrumming as calmly as ever.

He's stunned. He blinks at you dumbly for a moment, and then he kisses you. He grabs you and pulls you in and his metal hand is on your cheek and you're breathless and-

The thrumming in the tag speeds up, increasing as he makes your heart flutter in your chest. He pulls back to stare at his hand again. 

"It's a live feed" you explain, "I figured Tony would be able to knock something up- As long as I've got my watch on, or, I'm somewhere that FRIDAY can get a read on me, then it's a direct, real time echo, okay? No delay, no glitches, no dead batteries."

He blinks at you, expression adoring now.

"-and if I need you- If a threat does pop up when you're not there, then-" you reach down, pressing and holding three fingers against the centre of your watch for a second

The tag vibrates in response. A constant unignorable tremor that makes it dance in his palm.

You take it upon yourself to stop it, exaggerating your action of squeezing it in demonstration.

"FRIDAY will be able to give you my location down to the inch."

Bucky knows he's gawking. His jaw is slack and he must be the picture of comedic surprise, but he doesn't care one bit. All he cares about right now is you.

"How did you think of that?" he murmurs, already moving to add it to his chain, the chain he never takes off, the one that has his other dog tag hanging from it, keeping it in its place against his heart.

"I just figured," you say, helping him refasten the clasp, "A modern problem would probably have a modern solution"

(I usually write imagine requests from the you POV, if thats not what you want then just lmk in the message)

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