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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

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Can you do an Alastor x fem!reader where Alastor confesses his love to her, but she doesn't believe him, thinking it's some kind of sick joke? She just laughs nervously, saying something like “yeah, yeah, I got it, very good joke, Al, your humor is getting better,” expecting that it will actually turn out to be some kind of prank

However, Alastor doesn't stop and tries to convey to her that he really loves her, but she still doesn't believe him because she doesn't trust him completely. Like, he's the radio demon, one of the most dangerous and powerful overlords who seemingly despised the idea of getting close to someone, what if he just wants to trick her so he can maybe make a deal with her or something?? That's why at first she tries to avoid him in order to get rid of this awkwardness due to his confessions, but gradually in the end she begins to meet him halfway and considers the idea of starting to date him after all. Not official yet, but the chances are great

WELP-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You're used to expecting the worst-case scenario and protecting your heart first and foremost, it's just how you learned to survive

You've learned not to trust anyone, especially anybody down here in hell with you, everyone has an ulterior motive

Yet...by some weird twist of fate you found yourself a home at the hotel, Charlie somehow having convinced you to stay

Whether or not you believed in redemption, you couldn't deny that you didn't feel a sense of closeness with everyone there

Even Alastor was nice to hang around sometimes, though you didn't trust him in the slightest

How could you? The Radio Demon?? He's got plans for his plans and only sees people for their use, he doesn't care about anyone, especially not you

You're just amusing to him, which is fine, you can tolerate being amusing just not being used

You had a comfortable relationship with the overlord which was something that not many people could say

You two got along well enough, spent a good amount of time together and actually had decent conversations

He'a charming and handsome, a dangerous combination but you were far too addicted to his presence now to worry about it, you can still protect your heart

Or at least you did, until Alastor decided to toy with your feelings, how he found out about your budding crush was beyond you

You two were walking alone together at night, laughing at some couple you two had witnessed earlier, teasing them

"I just don't understand how any man could be that whipped for a woman! I can't wrap my head around it..!"

Instead of joining in your laughter, he hummed and looked over at you strangely before looking ahead

"Oh, I don't know... I find myself understanding men like that a little more these days."

It's like a bucket of ice water just fell on you, your laughter cutting off as you look at him in confusion

"What do you mean? Are you...seeing someone or something?"

He looks as uncomfortable as a man with a permanent smile can be, tapping his claws against his staff

"Heavens no, but that doesn't mean there isn't someone special in my life... someone I wouldn't mind courting."

He gives you a meaningful glance then looks away again, stopping suddenly and facing you

"Alastor-"

"I wouldn't mind being whipped for you."

Your stomach sours and you frown, pushing at his shoulder a little harder than you meant to

"Yeah, that's real funny, Alastor. Why don't you go try that joke on someone else next time?"

You walk off as quickly as you can, leaving a baffled looking Alastor in your dust

Do you have any idea how hard it was for him to confess!? He grits his teeth and rubs his hand over his face as he watches you run away from him

You don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that, in fact... Alastor is pretty sure you're avoiding him because any time he tries to talk to you-

You find an excuse to run off, your relationship with him awkward and nervously hanging on by a thread

He ruined it and all your walls came right back up

You should've known he would exploit your weakness like that, should've seen that he was only being so good to you because he wanted to use everything he learned against you

You don't know what he gets out of it or what his goal is, but you're sure he's got an angle

Even now, he's trying to mess with your feelings, bringing you flowers, pushing little notes under your door, one time he even tried to serenade you

He keeps trying to tell you that he cares about you, that he feels for you, that he wants you, and you just don't want to hear it

It hurts to be toyed with

Everyone else at the hotel can see what's happening between you two which makes everything that much more embarrassing

"Come on, Husk! I know you know something! Why is he targeting me!? What do I have that he wants?"

Husk looks visibly uncomfortable, looking over your body before looking away, suddenly interested in a smudge on a glass

"I don't know anything so quit asking me! Why don't you just sit down and talk with him, huh?"

Oh, he knows something

Angel smirks and nudges your leg with his own, invading your personal space to further tease you

"You're tellin' me that you ain't flattered by all this attention he's givin' you? I've seen the way he's been mooning over you lately, and let me tell you~ That shit ain't fake~"

You huff and shake your head, mostly to hide the blush on your face from them

"He has an angle, everyone always does."

"Look if you wanna be a blind bitch then be my guest but at least promise me you'll hit that and tell me the details~?"

"ANGEL!"

You can't avoid Alastor forever no matter how hard you try, eventually running into him late one night when everyone else is in bed

You should've known better than to get that late night snack, but you had skipped dinner earlier, and you were hungry

You're washing your plate off when you hear Alastor walk in, stiffening once you realize you have no real excuse to run away anymore

"Alastor-"

He sucks in a breath and stays still as if scared he'll chase you away, which he might actually be worried about due to your actions lately

"I know you think I confessed to you in order to get something from you but that's far from the truth. I do genuinely find myself attached to you."

You feel your lip wobble a little, hugging yourself as you look away from him

"Don't. Don't you dare mess with me like this or I'll never forgive you, Alastor."

He takes another step closer to you, cautious as if trying not to scare you away

"I'm being entirely honest with you, I've fallen for you in ways I can't even begin to understand or convey to you. These last few weeks have been torture for me."

He's gripping your arms gently to stop you from turning away, the simple touch spreading warmth throughout your body

You have missed him a lot...

"I'm not asking that you confess your love to me, I only want a chance to show you I'm being genuine with you..."

You glance up at him before taking a step back, blushing furiously at the pathetic puppy eyes he's giving you

You can't believe you're going to agree to this, he better not make you regret it later or you'll make him suffer for it

You sigh and point at him, doing your best to remain calm and not let your emotions show

"I'll think about it, okay? Just...give me time to think."

He visibly relaxes and sighs in relief, giving you a warm smile as if you had just said yes

"That's more than I could ask for, I'll wait hundreds of years for you if that's what you want."

You blush more and have to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from escaping your lips

"Q-quit flirting with me! I already said I'd think about it..!"

He chuckles softly and reaches out to rub your cheek before pulling away and turning to leave

"Okay okay~ I'll wait for you...~"

He leaves you there in the dark, blushing and fuming to yourself

Having a handsome overlord on your arm wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to you

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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golden-cherry · 6 months

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deal - cl16 (19/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's so much going on in Charles' brain, but having to come clean with his feelings is the hardest.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering, masturbating), angst, swear words, Lando being a little shit

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: sorry. and happy season finale. let’s hope for a better 2024.

Charles has never been so happy about a pot of plants.

After you slammed the door in his face, he barely made it to the street before throwing up in the nearest plant pot. His fingers clawed around the hard ceramic edges as his body struggled against the nasty words he spat at you.

He doesn't even know why he was so mean to you.

Was it because you had a wonderful evening last night? Because you two got so close that you both almost kissed? Because you fell asleep next to each other and he slept incredibly well? Or because Lando texted him in the middle of the night and asked what your favorite food was so that he could do everything right on your date?

Maybe he does know why he was so mean to you.

"Charles? Concentrate, please," he is snapped out of his thoughts and Charles sits up a little straighter in his chair. He can feel something crack in his spine.

The meeting has been going on for hours. So long, in fact, that the private chefs in Maranello have already had to bring food to the room four times, with the last meal being dinner. Charles has eaten so much pasta and bruschetta that he feels sick just looking at the leftovers on the table in front of him. And the water with the slice of lemon in the glass in front of him no longer tastes very refreshing.

No matter what he eats or drinks, he can't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth.

He wonders if your "I hate you" is as heavy on your stomach as the nasty words are on his. He would love to take back everything he spat in your face. Turn back time and undo everything. But he can't do that. Unfortunately.

He'd love to bang his head on the tabletop.

In fact, he can barely remember what he said. It's as if his brain short circuited, has had some kind of blackout, or as if a bomb has gone off and wiped everything out. Which doesn't excuse any of it. But from your hurt look, the tears in your eyes and your venomous response, it was so unacceptable that he'd like to slap himself for it.

It wasn't the first time Lando had asked Charles for dating help and they are actually such good friends that Charles has always been happy to help him. But the fact that the Brit asked for help so that he could take you out nicely - that doesn't sit right with him. Which is complete nonsense, because he has no reason to. He has no claim of ownership over you. And besides, he didn't want to kiss you in the bookstore.

Although that's not entirely true either.

He did want to kiss you. Desperately. And you'd been so close all day, you'd shown him your favorite place and everything had pointed to you wanting to make the move to something more - and then you gave him that look when he asked you for a dance. And he can understand why you didn't want to. After all, it's your place, your favorite place, and never would Charles do anything to tarnish that place in any way. Create a memory that you would later regret.

The Petit Mondes is your safe haven. And as much as Charles wants you - and he definitely does - he wouldn't cross that line.

Since you've known each other, Charles has had to fight every waking - and to be honest, every sleeping - moment not to jump you. He can't stop thinking about you standing in front of him half-naked in a towel. Or how you turned around just a few steps away from him before dinner with his friends to show him your outfit. How you slept next to him and dreamt - dreamt of him. A moment he will never forget.

Although he is actually a late riser, Charles woke up early that morning. Not because he had slept in, but because he was warm. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't because of the comforter or the heating, but because you were lying half on top of him. Your head was resting against his shirt-clad chest, one of your legs was draped over his hip, while your arm was wrapped around his middle.

At first, he didn't understand what was going on at all. He wanted to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was met with resistance in the form of a lightly clad, sleeping beauty. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand was a little too high on your ribs to pass for being friendly, and by God - he hadn't felt this comfortable in ages.

Feeling your closeness had triggered something in him that confused him, but at the same time made him incredibly relaxed. He had pulled you closer to him, pressed you against him and enjoyed your warmth. For a moment, he had even considered whether he should just pull you all over him so that he could be as close to you as possible.

Before he could think about how wrong that would be and how many boundaries he would be crossing, you had turned in his arms so that your back was against his chest. Your body molded perfectly against his, your warmth engulfing him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fact that you were going to move your butt a little in his direction, right up against his crotch.

Charles had been awake in a flash and while you continued to sleep soundly, all the blood from his brain had rushed to his dick. Embarrassed, he'd squinted and focused on something else - Ferrari strategies, Joris last Christmas with the Leclercs, anything - and had scooted back a few inches to stick his hand down his pants so he could fix his raging boner.

But alas, you'd followed him like a magnet, squirming against him like you knew exactly what you were doing, so that his cock was wedged between your ass cheeks. Your body had been so warm, so soft against his hard one, that he had to stifle a moan.

Something you hadn't been able to do. If you hadn't been so close to him, he would have missed your soft gasp of his name. That's when he blew a fuse.

He would have loved to wake you up with kisses along your neck, let his fingers wander slowly over your skin until they finally disappeared into your panties. He would have let them glide through your folds and collect your wetness before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves. You would have turned to him and moaned into his mouth as he slid one of his fingers into your tight walls.

He'd never escaped his bedroom so quickly and quietly and jumped into the freezing cold shower.

The water felt like fine pinpricks as it splashed down on his burning hot skin, but no matter how cold he turned it on - his cock stood angry and proud. He put his head back in despair, his brain vehemently refusing to see his friend in this light, to desire you like this. But before he could do anything about it, his fingers had wrapped themselves around his aching cock. His imagination ran away with him, too many images popped up in his mind's eye as he squeezed it twice in the hope of relieving some tension. But the only thing it triggered was the feeling of a moment ago, when his cock was against your ass.

He was almost ashamed of how quickly he came.

He just hoped you didn't notice when he came back into the bedroom and woke you up with it. He had thought about lying back next to you, but had decided on the foot of the bed to create some distance.

The fact that you were dreaming about him threw him off course. And he'd really wanted to kiss you - by God, he'd wanted to do even kinkier things to you - but the timing never seemed right.

And then Lando's message came.

The vibration in his pocket brings him back to the present. Charles takes a quick look around to make sure he's not the center of the conversation, then glances at his phone.

Lando: You need to come home now.

He looks at the screen, confused. Why the hell is Lando texting him? Lando of all people? Did you tell him all the things Charles threw at you? How badly he treated you?

Charles: I'm in Maranello.

If you really did confide in Lando, his answer sounds pathetic. Why else would Lando text him? His friend certainly knows that Charles screwed up. And also that you want to move out of the apartment. But does the Brit really believe that Charles could change your mind when he's the reason you're moving out?

Lando's answer comes immediately.

Lando: I don't care. Get your ass over here.

The Monegasque turns on the keypad lock on his cell phone and places it on the table in front of him. It wouldn't make any difference if he went home now and tried to change your mind. What could happen is that his presence would only strengthen your decision to move out. Besides, he doesn't know how he's ever going to face you again.

Before he can think about it, his cell phone starts ringing. The eyes of his co-workers land on him and he apologizes with a quiet "mi dispiace" before leaving the meeting, phone in hand. Out in the corridor, he doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who is calling.

"If you don't go back to Monaco immediately, I'll come to Italy myself to get you," Lando snaps at him and Charles has to hold the receiver away from his ear to stop his eardrums from bursting.

"Hi, Lando."

"Don't give me 'Hi, Lando'. Get your fucking ass over here."

Charles rubs his forehead before running his whole hand over his face. "I can't just leave here."

"Don't talk shit like that. We both know you're not up for the meeting," the Brit replies bitchily. "Don't act like you don't have a choice."

The Monegasque rolls his eyes. "What do you want to hear from me now, Lando?"

The answer comes like a shot from a gun. "I want to know what you've been up to! Are you completely stupid?"

Charles would like to know the answer too.

"You go home right now, explain your shitty behaviour and apologize."

"And you're interfering because...?" His tone is cold.

"Because I was in your apartment all evening and had to watch how devastated Y/N was. I'd love to kill you for it."

"Go ahead and do it. She sure as hell wouldn't mind."

He swears he hears Lando take a deep breath on the other end of the line.

"I'm going to tell you this once. Just once, Charles. And I'm saying this for her sake, because I still have hope that you're the person I was praising to her."

Praising? If you've told Lando everything, then you've certainly told Charles everything about the Brit. That he just wants to get you into bed. So why would Lando want to help him?

"What you did was absolute bullshit, Charles. Totally below the belt and you've never acted as fucking shit as you just did."

Charles rolls his eyes. "Is there anything positive coming?"

"Shut up, you idiot. I don't know what you've done in the few days you've known each other to make her so crazy about you, but I don't have to. Any blind man can see there's something between you. Something good. So go home now and save what can be saved before she really decides to leave the country."

Charles, who had just been leaning against the wall, stands up straight. "The country? I thought she just wanted to move out."

"She's been thinking about it, asshole. United States, Australia. Something really far away from you."

"But she has her job here, at that one magazine. There's no way she'd leave like that."

"She got fired, motherfucker. Before you made your weird deal. Nothing's keeping her here anymore. So get your ass over here now before she really decides to take off."

How could Charles be so blind? He knows the magazine, his mom reads it occasionally and he actually knows that a new issue comes out every week. You've known each other for five days - five days that you've spent entirely with him. Something that would definitely not be possible with such a full-time job.

"And what do you want from me now? That I drop everything to go home even though she doesn't want to see me?"

"I've never seen anyone as stupid as you."

"Can you stop with the insults?" Charles snaps through the phone.

"You have nothing to say to me, you arsehole. She told me what you said about me. You owe it to us to go off and try to make things right."

Charles can't help but laugh. "Us? So you two are already an us?" He doesn't know why he's talking to one of his closest friends like this. Especially when the latter only wants to help put things right that Charles has messed up. The Monegasque has no reason to be angry. But the disgusting taste in his mouth, which he hasn't been able to get rid of for hours, is not anger. Unfortunately, he only realizes it now.

He's fucking jealous. And he can't do anything about it.

"We're friends, but apparently you don't know what the word stands for," Lando replies snippily. "Go home, explain to her why you behaved so badly and apologize to her." His voice softens, warmer than it has been throughout the phone call. "Charles, I know you're being careful because you're afraid of getting hurt again. And I can understand that, I really can." He takes a deep breath. "But it's Y/N we're talking about here. Sit down and talk to each other, be honest, and then it'll all work out."

Charles' gaze wanders to the huge Ferrari logo hanging on the wall next to him and his bad guilt returns. You don't even know who he is. To you, he's Charles, the roommate who shows you beautiful places, introduces you to his friends and with whom you share a bed. You are the only person who knows him as Charles and not as Charles Leclerc.

What would you think of him if the cat was out of the bag? When you see who he really is, including the spotlight? What happens if you like Charles, but not Charles Leclerc? He doesn't know if he could handle it. His job is his life, he's on the road all year round and what little time he has he has to divide between friends and family.

That's why his relationship with Annika failed. She was right about what she threw at him. That you always have to wait for him and that it's not fair. And she knew what she was getting into from the start. But you don't. You would be thrown in at the deep end if you decided to go for it. If you chose him.

"I don't think it's that easy," Charles says quietly, and he has to suppress the tremor in his voice. "She - she doesn't deserve this life. This risk. She - she," he takes a deep breath and has to wipe away the tear running down his cheek. "She's too good for me. She deserves someone great."

"How strange," Lando replies. "That's exactly what she says about you. So get in the car and apologize. I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out. And if you say shit like that about me again, I'll drive you into the wall in Bahrain next year."

Charles curls his mouth into a thin smile. "I'm truly sorry, Lando. And thank you for everything."

"I'm just absolutely the best." Charles can almost hear his grin before the Brit hangs up.

When the Monegasque re-enters the meeting room, all eyes are on him. With deliberate steps, he walks to his chair and grabs his jacket before looking at his team boss. "I'm going home."

His boss crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You can't just leave like that, Charles. We need to talk about next season and everything that's gone wrong this year."

"I can tell you exactly what happened," the brunette replies as he zips up his jacket. "The strategies this year were all for the trash, you screwed me over and you cost me the title." He grabs his wallet and car keys from the table in front of him. "Make sure things go better next year. After all, it doesn't get any shittier than this. See you next year. Have a good holiday."

He knows that his Ferrari can drive fast. And he also knows that he shouldn't drive that fast. But the roads home are empty and he wants to get to you as quickly as possible, in the hope that you haven't left the apartment yet. The accelerator pedal is almost stuck to the floor and he would certainly have to pay a heavy fine if the police caught him speeding. But apparently luck is on his side and it takes him just over three hours to turn onto the streets of Monaco.

The closer he gets to your apartment, the faster his heart beats and he can feel himself starting to sweat. What's the best way to start the apology?

I'm sorry I was so shitty to you, but it was because -

I behaved like crap, but it was only because -

I'm sorry I was such a bad friend, but you should have -

Wow. It actually all sounds like shit.

Maybe Lando is right. Maybe the most reasonable thing would be for Charles to just be honest, even if it means destroying everything between you. But you deserve the truth.

I'm sorry I said those bad things to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. Of course, apologizing can't undo any of it, but if you gave me the chance, I could explain myself to you. I was jealous because we had such a nice evening and then I find out you planned a date with one of my friends. I wanted to kiss you in the bookstore, I've wanted you ever since we met. You've been messing with my head from the beginning, taking over my heart and I can't think straight when you're with me. Maybe it's crazy because we've only known each other for five days, but I've never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I'm in lo-

His train of thought stops abruptly as he turns into the street. A green Nissan is parked on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, the driver's door is open and the hazard lights illuminate the walls of the house.

Charles worriedly parks at the next opportunity before jumping out of the car and dashing to the front door, which is wide open. He can already hear angry voices from outside, a male voice that almost shouts the whole house awake.

And your voice, angry and rough and shaky, as if you were at the end of your tether.

Charles sprints up the few steps to your apartment and stops like a flash on the top step when he sees you. You're wearing your pyjamas, your hair is disheveled, as if you've run your hand through it several times, and when you see him, you snap your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost.

But it's not the sight of you that makes Charles' blood boil.

It's Raphael's, who follows your gaze and takes a step back when he realizes who he's facing. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?"

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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queerfables · 9 months

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There's a line in the book where Shadwell asks Aziraphale if the antichrist would be harder to get rid of than a demon.

"Not much more," said Aziraphale, who had never done other to get rid of demons than to hint to them very strongly that he, Aziraphale, had some work to be getting on with, and wasn't it getting late? And Crowley had always got the hint.

And I keep thinking about this line because it's so funny but I just cannot reconcile it with the show verse because like. It paints a picture of companionship that's so easy and relaxed, where they're shaking each other out of their hair so they can have a few hours to themselves without worrying about when they'll get to have more of each other. And I want that for show verse Crowley and Aziraphale so badly. But as it stands I find it hard to imagine they've ever managed to spend so much time together that they got sick of each other.

What I would love to see in season three though is a remixed version of the line where Aziraphale is being asked how to summon a demon, and he has to admit he mostly just gets himself kidnapped and waits.

#good omens #fable talks good omens

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st7rnsangels · 21 days

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— rumours put to rest. chris sturniolo | versus tour

sypnosis. with all the girls flirting and complimenting with y/n’s famous boyfriend, chris sturniolo, she begins to feel self conscious of if she actually deserves this mini-celebrity she caught herself, especially with their relationship being a secret. bf!chris realized this and decided to put the rumours to rest once and for all.

warnings. flangst? self-consciousness, crying / comfort, fem!reader, that’s really all.

a/n. not sure where this inspiration came from but i’m feeling sappy today. also first post!!!!! like and reblog to support your favourite writers<3333

“ the need to be the best before the need to rest .. “

this was it; the versus tour was finally here, and my boyfriend was going on stage in front of hundreds of people.

a lot of girls found him attractive, that i knew was inevitable. but i could never get rid of this sickly feeling.

while he was out there, being admired by all these pre-teen girls, i was sat inside the trailer watching through a live-camera.

i wanted to be out there. i wanted to be the one admiring him.. he is my boyfriend of six months, after all.

and don’t get me wrong — chris is an amazing boyfriend, and i couldn’t have asked for a better soulmate to be paired with, but i was sick of being a secret.

i knew staying secret was the better choice, both for him and for me. i didn’t like the spotlight, and i didn’t want to deal with the rude comments by jealous girls, and he simply wasn’t ready to reveal our relationship yet.

i understood it, all of it.

yet, i couldn’t help but feel horrible about the situation i put myself in.

i watched as the girl brought on stage to be on his team was a little overly touchy, grabbing his arm, talking to him.

it was all in good-heart, i knew that, yet.. i still felt that twinge of my heart at every touch or glance or words spoken between them, telling me that it should be me on that stage making him laugh under his breath.

it hurt. my heart hurt from the guilt and sadness of being remained a secret, and i didn’t like it. at all.

i quickly wiped the tear from my cheek as i tried to remain positive seeing my boyfriend happy, and smiling, but it was hard with the constant flow of tears from my eyes that just didn’t seem to stop.

shit. why am i crying?

a voice is spoken from my phone, “alright, guys, we have to get going, but thank you so much for coming, it was a blast tonight!” nick said in the mic, turning to his brothers to signify it was time to go.

“awwww!” the crowd erupts.

“thank you guys!” matt’s distant voice says to the mic as he grabs his jacket and moves toward the exit.

chris waves goodbye to his parter that was brought onto the stage, giving her a quick smile and waving to the crowd as he followed his brother.

fuck. why did that hurt so bad? it shouldn’t, really.

i shut my phone off, tossing it across the tiny tour bed, and curled into myself. i brushed my tears away, running fingers through my hair.

it was all lighthearted, that’s what i should be thinking.

but the girl he was with was so beautiful. the kind of beautiful that makes your breath stop and your head feel dizzy.

looking at myself in the mirror across from the bed, i sigh.

chris should be with that kind of girl: effortlessly pretty, good smile, bubbly personality.. yet, i was the opposite. he clicked with her, because that was his match — the same loudness, eagerness, excitement and energy, she should be his type of match.

before i can spiral into my thoughts any longer, the door to the tour bus opens.

“oh my god, i’m spent.” nick huffs, placing his wallet and phone on the small table and falling against the couch.

“tell me about it, all day travelling and then a three hour show? i’m exhausted.” matt says, dropping his keys and jacket against the kitchen counter.

realizing they had already made their way to the bus, i quickly wipe my tears.

“hey, y/n.” nick waves, and i peek my head out, flashing the best smile i could.

“hi, nick.” i say back, huffing at the small croack in my voice.

and then, there was chris.

i watch as he walks over to me, smile on his face as he grabs my cheeks and kisses my forehead. “hi, baby.” he says, pulling away to look at my face.

and when his eyes land on my puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, his brows furrow.

“are you.. okay?” he whispers, quickly glancing to nick and matt who shrug their shoulders. he lets go of my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“yeah, um, i’m — i’m fine.” i sniff, wiping my tears, “just missing home.”

his eyes run over my face, almost as if inspecting me.

he leans closer, whispering. “do you wanna go outside? so we can talk.”

i glance toward nick and matt, pretending not to be listening, yet they were horrible at hiding their curiosity.

looking back to chris, i nod. he gives me a smile, lending out his hand which i take. the warmth of his hand seeps into my palm, giving me almost instant comfort he seems to always be able to give me.

he leads me toward the door, making a silent, quick gesture and muttering for matt to move his ass, which he does.

and as soon as that door opens, and i take a step outside, i feel instantly calmed down. i realized now that i had spent basically the last twelve hours inside that trailer.

chris squeezes my hand as we walk down the road, listening to the soft sounds of the forest and buzzing streets of the city ahead of us.

and as we found a place against a wall, he sighs and stops, leaning against it.

“so.. what’s wrong?” he says, letting go of my hand, wiping a small tear that i hadn’t realized ran down my cheek.

“i dunno, i just —.. i think i’m overreacting, it’s nothing to really—“

“baby.” chris cuts my off, resting a hand on my cheek, “it’s just me,” he tucks my hair behind my ear, “talk to me.”

i bite my lip. ponder his words.

“that girl you were partnered with today on stage?” i offer.

“what about her?” he asks.

“it’s just.. i dunno.” i look to my hands, picking at my nails, “she was so beautiful. and funny, and outgoing..”

his brows furrow, “where are you going with this?”

my teeth sink back into my lip, “do you ever.. think about how different our lives are?

“i mean, i’m this college student, becoming a teacher, and you’re a celebrity.” i shrug my shoulders, “do you ever think about being with.. with someone more compatible?”

“wait, just—“

“that girl in there, she was just like you.” i chuckle, before sniffing, “loud, funny, all bubbly and smiley like that..”

“y/n—“

“and i’m just.. some book nerd.”

“Y/N.” chris says, placing two hands on my shoulders. “please, let me talk.

my lips form a tight line, my throat aching from a sob wanting to come from my throat.

“i love you.” he says in a breathy tone, “only you. i don’t care about how different our lives are; you’re the only girl i want.”

“you.. you love me?” i whisper.

a smile forms on his lips as he brushes a thumb across my cheek.

“of course i do, dummy.” he says, pulling me closer by a hand on my back clothed by his hoodie — his favourite hoodie.

“now, can you stop crying so i can kiss you?” he says, licking his lips, “‘been thinking about you the whole show.”

i giggle. “you’re such a loser.”

“only for you, baby.”

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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viajunebaby · 2 months

Text

this is for you, sick fuckers

Part I here <<< 🤍

John Price as best friend’s dad headcanons part II

BestFriend’sDad! Price who saw you in his house for couple more times after that one meeting. he was always very talkative and friendly when you were around, complete opposite of what he was like with other friends of his daughter

BestFriend’sDad! Price who noticed the quick glances and small smirks as he was around you. whenever you were visiting your friend, you made sure to exchange a word with her dad

BestFriend’sDad! Price wasn’t sure if you were just playing with him or did you actually found him attractive, but once he caught you staring at his bare, hairy chest, he knew something was up

BestFriend’sDad! Price who let his daughter throw a party one night — because of her eighteenth birthday, although he had to stay at soap’s place, so he wouldn’t disturb the teenagers from having fun

BestFriend’sDad! Price who found himself being jealous as he thought about you having fun with other young boys, their hands probably on your soft body, their mouths on your sweet neck, he couldn’t believe he was that jealous over that

BestFriend’sDad! Price who was back home early in the morning, founding you sleeping in his bedroom. your glittery dress slightly lifted up, making your cleavage more exposed. he could see the lack of your bra when you lied there.

BestFriend’sDad! Price was just about to leave his room and go to sleep on the couch, but then he heard you stirring in your sleep, causing him to stop walking in the middle of the room.

BestFriend’sDad! Price who heard your soft, sleepy tone calling out for him;

“sir? why won’t you stay?” you asked while lifting yourself up on your elbows. you were a bit drunk, but still aware of your actions. “there’s plenty of room in your bed.” you added, smirking.

john let out a soft sigh and turned to face you, his expression unreadable once he met your half lidded eyes.

“doll, you’re wasted, aight.” he spoke as he approached the bed and sat on the edge of it, still looking into your eyes. “the party was good?”

you shrugged, moving a bit closer to him.

“can’t complain, although I was thinking about something else the whole time.” you said and your hand wandered to his broad shoulder.

he looked down at your movements and raised an eyebrow, looking at you like at a dumb girl who wanted a lollipop, even though he wanted to fuck you to the tears, he couldn’t let himself be that kind of a guy.

“go back to sleep. I’ll take the couch.” he murmured, standing up, but you held his hand.

before he could resist your touch, you placed his hand under your dress, so he could feel your perky breasts. your hard nipples brushed against his fingertips, causing him to groan.

BestFriend’sDad! Price who couldn’t stop himself anymore and joined you on the bed the instant you made the first move. his kisses were sloppy and hungry, it was obvious he wanted to do that for a long time

BestFriend’sDad! Price whose hands were everywhere on you, from your tits to your thighs, squeezing and caressing your soft flesh, until you were begging him quietly for more

BestFriend’sDad! Price who got rid of your dress the moment you moaned into his ear. it didn’t get him long to start kissing your perky breasts, playing with the edge of your panties until he ripped them off, too, diving into your sweet juices.

BestFriend’sDad! Price who was the first man who ever brought you to orgasm. he sucked and licked on your clit so good, you had to bite on the blanket, so you wouldn’t be too loud. he was good at what he was doing, you almost didn’t felt ashamed that you were fucking your best friend’s father

BestFriend’sDad! Price after he made you cum with just his tongue, got rid of his pants and quickly stripped off, not wanting you to wait for too long

BestFriend’sDad! Price whose dick was already semi hard, just from watching you squirm and moan from his touch. he grabbed the pack of condoms from the nightstand, he thought he wouldn’t use them anymore, but here you were.

BestFriend’sDad! Price who was an amazing lover, he did exactly what you begged him to do. he was slow when he saw your grimace, he started to move his hips faster when you started to whine softly. like he knew exactly what would drive you crazy with passion

BestFriend’sDad! Price who didn’t fucked anybody that good since his divorce, he didn’t even realized how much of stamina he had left, but maybe it was just because of your sweet pussy that he couldn’t get enough of

BestFriend’sDad! Price who promised himself, that this would be the first and last time he’d use you for his pleasure.

BestFriends’sDad! Price who didn’t know how wrong he was…

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yanderestarangel · 2 months

Note

Okay, so I was thinking about yandere Peter B and Miguel O’Hara with FTM reader. Both men obsessed and possessive with them ever since they joined the society.

And they both share them. Kinks could be breeding, size difference, degradation, praising kink? Miguel could be a hard dom and Peter a soft dom. You could add more if ya like.

Your writing is absolutely amazing!

🕸️🕷️ 》 OUR LITTLE SPIDER || PETER B. PARKER AND MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER ||

A/N: I made it in headcanon format because I was too lazy to make a one shot, but I hope you like it.

THIS WAS A LITTLE TOO LONG SORRY--- ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

TW: age gap, smut, yandere content, dark romance, daddykink, praise!kink, size!kink, possession, manipulation, ftm reader, betrayal, breed!kink, v!sex, anal!sex, overstimulation, kidnapping, blackmail, murder, aphrodisiac use, dub con, threesome, creampie.

Being in the spidersociety was a big responsibility role for you, but you accepted it anyway, after all you had the sense of hero that each spider variant had. You didn't expect so much attention or flattery for you but that's what you received from two specific people ─ Miguel O'Hara, your boss and Peter B. Parker, the most peaceful and sweet spider man you met in Spider society. You swore you saw hearts form in the two older men's orbs simultaneously.

You quickly saw things escalate to a strange level. Miguel was very protective of you, even putting you on "easier" missions like staying at the spider society headquarters and giving him boring reports.

"You're safe here. Being a spider-man isn't just about battling villains, it's about learning responsibility. You're still a little spider, carinõ." the Mexican would speak as he gave you more papers to fill out. While on the other hand, Peter agreed with everything the leader said, complementing even more.

"Miguel is right, baby boy. You still have a lot to learn." The older man gestured excitedly and you accepted, defeated and sighing.

O'Hara watched everything with a chill passing through him, he tried not to let his thoughts speak loudly but he knew that Peter was also interested in you, just like the Mexican was.

"You shouldn't be so close to him, Peter. Your wife will be jealous." O'Hara hissed the words like venom coming out of his fangs, while the other spider-man just smiled relaxedly and looked at the younger man.

"You want to compete for him? Is that it Miguelito? You liked him too, didn't you? We can share." Peter spoke as he saw you oblivious to the dark conversation you were both having.

The proposal for a share was denied in the first instance, but every day it seemed more tempting for the spider leader, for several reasons. The main one was that you were getting closer to other spider variants and Peter, being more social, was keeping up with your pace ── at the same time that you realized that some spider variants no longer wanted to talk to you, if that variant presented romantic interest in you, they disappeared and came back with deep bruises, diverting topics with you and leading you to turn to Peter.

Little did you know that the nice family man was the cause of that. He was sick for you, to the point of abandoning his purposes and character ── you and his daughter were the only things that mattered to him at that moment, he told himself that he still loved Mary Jane... But he also loved you.

Peter was getting rid of another spider variant using threats and pure blackmail to do so, but the poor victim that time had no chance after Miguel appeared and took out his fury on them. The tall man sloppily wiped the blood off his hands as he turned to Peter.

"Okay... I accept your proposal, let's share the ninõ." O'Hara spoke in a calm, cold and insane tone, while he saw Parker smile and nod his head ── after this previous peace agreement between them, it was his life's turn to become a sweet hell.

You had no one else inside or outside the spider society, Peter and Miguel were the only ones who spoke to you. (Peter's threat + Miguel's tyrannical power with the other spider variants in secret was the reason for his involuntary isolation.)

In addition to the fact that the Mexican used his entire database to find out about your family, friends and possible love interests outside the society he had control over ── some were bought with money, others were threatened and others... They were found in alleys and became news on TV channels.

Everything was falling apart in your life, even your college grades and your mental state and all you had left was the comfort of the two older men... Exactly as you both planned.

You ran into their arms while crying and venting ── an Oscar award was supposed to be presented to the duo, both of them pretended shock and indignation while you told them every detail. So when you were weakened enough, they acted, bringing you into their possession, protecting you from the cruel world that was made worse in their minds.

Compliments, gifts, words of positive affirmations and everything sweet and warm in the world they gave you. Miguel was more desperate for touch, placing you on his lap while he worked on the panels of the multiverse or giving you small, intimate but not vulgar kisses, something that asserted a silent and slow dominance ── away from curious eyes, after all he was still the leader of that society.

Peter on the other hand would give you more affection in public, you and him would even go for a walk together with mayday as a family, away from Mary Jane's eyes. He would also lie to you saying that he and his wife were separated and even show the old divorce paper to prove something to you... You were trapped in a spider web of lies and dirty manipulations.

And when you realized, you were in a relationship with both men ── they asked you if it was okay for you to deal with both of them at the same time, which you denied, too drunk with pleasure to think about anything more than both filling you to the brim (an effect that was also the fault of the aphrodisiac Miguel had put in your drink that day.)

Peter's hands took off your spider uniform while O'Hara's thick hands went towards your wetness, playing roughly with your clit "mi hermoso" the spider leader growled in your ear as one of his thick fingers entered inside you, making you moan ─ at the same time that Peter sucked your nipples and gently squeezed your breasts, his experienced hands were working magic on your body. Raw kisses were left by the older man on your abdomen, as Parker knelt and licked your clit, helping O'Hara prepare you even more for what was to come.

"You're already dripping for us, aren't you? Such a good little slut." The tanned man teased as he stuck a second finger in your cunt, stretching you in scissor movements, back and forth. Peter got out on his knees as he captured your lips lightly moaning huskily against your flesh: "Such a beautiful and good boy for us... You make your daddies proud like that little spider." He said as Miguel pressed his hard, pulsing erection against your ass, making you moan loudly against the other man's lips.

The two bodies fit perfectly inside you, practically crushing you with their heat as you tried not to cum on O'Hara's fingers, but the effort was in vain as you felt him easily reach your cervix. You felt one of Peter's fingers soon find your other hole, making you moan even more against his lips.

"That's it, my spider boy. Show us how much you want it." The voices mixed together as you felt like you were going to explode at any moment and it actually happened ── you came, squirting onto Miguel's forearm and dripping onto the floor as all your muscles contracted involuntarily.

"I knew it was going to be a fucking squirt." The spider leader said, laughing, as you left for the next step ── you just left yourself there, your body for the two of them to use as they wanted, you just wanted to feel good and they would guarantee that.

With careful coordination and chemistry between the three of you, you found yourself sitting on Peter's lap, your back pressed against his chest as he guided his cock to your tight hole. Meanwhile, Miguel positioned himself at your front, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered your dripping pussy. "Te ves tan hermoso."

Peter couldn't help but let out a groan of satisfaction as he finally buried his cock deep inside your tight ass, the feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness was overwhelming for him, he had to fight against the urge to just thrust into you with abandon. Instead, he took deep breaths to steady himself, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, you feel incredible, baby boy. So tight and eager for me... You wanted that, didn't you? Being filled by two dicks, a greedy, needy boy..."

Miguel's primal instincts took over as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock, the blissful sensation causing a guttural moan to escape his lips. "I'm going to breed in that beautiful pussy of yours, boy... You're going to be our breed whore... We're going to always leave you full of cum, in that beautiful hole of yours." Miguel's hips moved in sync with Peter's, his thrusts gaining speed and force as he aimed to push you over the edge. "So beautiful and obedient, If you continue like this, being a good boy will be rewarded ok?.." the older man moaned as you felt Peter and Miguel's cocks stretch you to the edge, letting you drool on both of their cocks like an animal in heat. Just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure as you moaned their names. Parker and O'Hara continued their relentless thrusts, prolonging your orgasm and riding the waves of your ecstasy, but they hadn't stopped yet. Peter's thrusts grew more frantic as he felt your body convulse under him, the pleasure building within him as well. He knew that his release wasn't far behind.

"You're so damn tight, baby. Fuck, I'm gonna come--" His voice was filled with a mix of pleasure and urgency as he increased the pace of his thrusts. O'Hara felt his own release drawing near, your tight pussy milking his cock with each powerful thrust. His grip on your hips tightened as he neared his own climax. "Holy shit little boy, you're really going to get pregnant with us, aren't you?" As both men reached their climaxes, they filled you with their seed. Peter's hot cum filled your tight ass, while Miguel's release spilled into your pussy, marking you as theirs. Their bodies shuddered as they reached their peaks, their gazes locked on yours. Nothing needed to be phallus, not when both of your eyes reflected their red, sickly hearts, surrounded by possession and pleasure for you.

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aether-starlight · 4 months

Text

Mending - Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1k

Summary: Grandma and Caleb’s absence is hard on you. When you find yourself in the emergency ward, Zayne shows up with a helping hand.

Zayne was the one to break the news of Grandma and Caleb’s passing to you.

The memory was a blur, a concentration of words that blended one into the other until they became a whole different language.

You hated to admit that for a moment you had wished you had gone with them. Then you wouldn’t have to feel so alone.

Burying yourself in missions and textbooks had come as easy as breathing afterward. The less time you had to spare, the less you thought about them.

It gave you a sick kind of relief not to have to remember your Grandma’s voice or her delicious cooking. The scent of her home or the wrinkles from smiling that framed her eyes.

Forgetting Caleb’s easy laughter and the weight of his arm draped over your shoulders felt infinitely easier than knowing you wouldn’t have it ever again.

Until the day came when working wasn’t enough. Missing them had become a phantom pain you could not get rid of.

Your poor sleep schedule and foggy mind caught up to you, and it was a little surprise that you ended up in the emergency ward.

It was pure carelessness, the way you had disconnected yourself from your body, how you hadn’t felt the graze of claws until you were slammed into your back.

Now you were bandaged up — with a dislocated shoulder—, and trying to remain focused as a nurse asked you if you had consumed any kind of sedative or psychoactive substance.

“I didn’t.” Your voice managed to crack in between those two words.

The nurse eyed you doubtfully, tracing the dark circles beneath your eyes and the fisted hands tightly pressed to your lap.

“I can take it from here, thank you.” A familiar voice broke through before she could inquire further.

“Zayne,” you called, feeling some of the tension upon your shoulders wane.

He pushed the curtains to your section closed, stepping until his thighs were a breath away from your knees.

Your foolish heart sped up when he leaned down until your eyes were at the same level.

He smelled like usual, something fresh and light, a trace of soap and lavender beneath the hospital’s antiseptic.

“I think I recommended that you rest and maintain good sleep hygiene as you recover.” He paused, assessing your reaction. “I believe I also suggested for you to see a grief counselor before returning to the field.”

You cleared your throat, forcing your voice to not come out as weak as it felt.

“I did. Go to the counselor, that is.”

“What about sleeping?” It was a futile question, for you both knew the answer.

“I can’t help it if it’s hard for me.”

You closed your eyes, furious at how defeated you sounded.

Zayne’s voice became softer, his hand pressing into your uninjured shoulder.

“Nightmares?”

You nodded.

“Look at me.”

When you opened your eyes there was no judgment in his face. You almost would dare say he seemed worried.

“You went through an extremely traumatic experience. No one would blame you for needing help.”

Your eyes stung.

“What help could you give me?” It wasn’t necessarily hostile, if anything, your tone was curious.

Zayne let out a slow breath, pulling back, face clouded with contemplation.

“My shift is over. Come with me.”

At your widened eyes, he hastened to add: “We’ll talk. Have a cup of tea. It will help you regulate your emotions and promote the release of serotonin, necessary for sleep.”

The ghost of a smile pulled at your lips. Zayne had a peculiar way of being sweet without meaning to.

“Okay.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled into the dark.

After hours of talking it had gotten quite late, and given your arm predicament, you were unfit to ride your motorcycle back home.

Zayne had kindly offered for you to sleep in his bed and was now on a futon beside it.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, patient as usual.

“Things I don’t want to remember.”

The deafening sound of the explosion, the ringing in your ears afterward. Caleb’s last smile to you, and glimpses of your home blazed alight.

You closed your eyes as if that could stop the memories from pouring in.

“Can you come here, please?” You asked, feeling incredibly small. It wasn’t a feeling you cherished.

Zayne sighed lightly, but it wasn’t exactly annoyed.

“Alright.”

He laid carefully beside you, leaving a proper space between your bodies.

Your hand automatically reached forward, intertwining your fingers with his.

His hand was cold, but it felt nice, a break from the heated panic you found yourself in lately.

“Do you want to discuss it?”

“I don’t think I can.” You said honestly, then whispering: “I don’t want to break, Zayne.”

His hand tightened in yours.

“You’re not breaking. You are mending.”

A small smile cracked through your lips.

“Thanks. I hope so.”

A heartbeat passed before Zayne spoke again.

“What if…?”

“What?”

He shifted in place, turning so he was looking at the ceiling instead of you.

“Forget it.”

“Zayne.”

He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t let it go.

“What if we do that mindfulness exercise your yoga teacher taught you? The one you showed me.”

You smiled lightly.

“I’d like that.”

“Alright,” he murmured. “Close your eyes.”

“You’re supposed to cover them with your hand, silly.”

He huffed a small laugh.

“So impatient.”

Any mirth vanished from the air when he shifted closer, until your side was pressed to his chest.

“Are you comfortable with this?” He asked.

You nodded, adding in a quiet: “yes,” for good measure.

Zayne’s lips hovered close to your ear, breath fresh and just a bit cold. The mint of his toothpaste sent a shiver down your spine.

He smelled more of lavender and less of antiseptic now, his pajamas’ shirt soft against your arm.

When his hand covered your eyes, you let out a soft breath.

“We are children and you are coming home from school. We run into each other,” he whispers. “I approach you and treat you to something sweet…”

That night no nightmares come for you.

When you wake up, Zayne’s hand is cradling your cheek.

#love and deep space #love and deep space zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader

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spatialwave · 2 months

Note

i am LOVING your angus tully content 💕 would you please write an angus tully x reader where the reader meets angus in boston while they’re ice skating and then they get to know each other as they explore the city, sort of ‘before sunrise’ style and hunham gives them the space to do so? if you don’t like this idea though that’s totally okay!! have a lovely day regardless :)

𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader word count: 4k notes: reader is very nervous & dorky! thank u for sending 🤎

the chilly december air stung your cheeks, leaving them reddened and sore, but that didn’t stop you from braving the weather and heading to the public skating rink. your friends had cancelled on you last minute, one of them falling sick with a nasty cold and the other deciding that her boyfriend was more important than a night with you during the festivities that boston had to offer. you couldn't be angry at her, though, you were a hopeless romantic at heart and would do the same if you had a boyfriend. you were happy that your best friend found someone so perfect for her, you dreamed of finding him too—the perfect boy.

though, you usually just giggled in your bed at night when you imagined yourself spending the rest of your life with david cassidy. that was much easier than finding real love.

so, alone you were as you willed your way ahead through the boston streets where your father had dropped you off. you promised yourself you'd start getting out of your nervous shell and what better way to test it than being alone at a skating rink? especially when you were notoriously clumsy and horrendous at skating.

if you could do this, you could do anything.

as you approached the skating rink you felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety flooding you. there were a lot of people, too many people, a lot of friends giggling with each other, children learning how to skate with their parents and partners holding hands as they stared into each other's eyes lovingly. you sorely missed your friends, but you shoved that thought as deeply into your consciousness as you could because you promised yourself you wouldn't wallow in your loneliness.

and you were here, weren’t you? successfully making do without them. all you needed to do was get the skates on and make your way onto the ice—that’s all. getting here was half the battle.

comfort warmed you as you fit yourself into the hand-me-down skates your older sister had given you. you tried so hard not to think about the negatives because even if you slipped and fell, it’s not like anyone here knew you. there was not a single person on the rink that looked even the slightest bit familiar and you thanked god you lived in a busy city.

of course, you were unsuccessful in ridding those thoughts because all you could think about was that there was a likely chance you could embarrass yourself in front of a cute boy. you were too boy-crazy for your own good, your mother blamed david cassidy for it.

as you let out a shaky exhale, you darted your eyes around the exterior of the rink as you shrugged off your bag and held your winter boots in your hand. you had ran into your first problem of the evening; there was no one to watch your belongings.

that’s when you noticed an older man just to the left of you, smoking out of a pipe and watching the rink, smiling to himself. he seemed friendly enough, reminding you a lot of your grandpa. there was no better person to watch your things!

“excuse me sir,” you said to him, smiling as you approached him cautiously, “is it alright if i leave my things here next to you? i’m not skating for long… i just don’t want to take them onto the rink with me.”

the man hadn’t realized you were talking to him at first as he pulled the pipe out of his mouth and looked between you and someone on the skating rink. he smacked his lips together a few times in thought, “okay. sure, i don’t mind.” he mumbled, though you could tell that he minded.

he was grumpier than you pegged him to be.

“thank you so much! i won’t be long!” you smiled, happy that you had some form of success, but again you had to ward off the image in your head of him running off with your things. at least he’d only have stolen a woman’s snow boots and three dollars from your wallet.

as you waddled away, you hadn’t noticed that a boy on the rink had skated up to the older man, you were much too focused on not toppling over. your ankles were already wobbling back and forth as you navigated through the snow, unaware of the set of eyes that lingered on you with each step you took.

“you got this,” you breathed to yourself as you made it to the entrance, taking a long and deep breath that caught in your throat. you froze in your spot, feeling frigid as you watched the tens of people skating along the rink so seemingly expert in their ways.

a woman cleared her throat behind you and you jolted up, looking over your shoulder and seeing a mother and her two children waiting to step into the rink, “sorry!” you squealed as you hurried onto the ice and clung to the railing for dear life.

the sounds of the young kids snickering made your cheeks burn red, so you kept your eyes downward and stared at your mitten-covered hands as they gripped onto the rail. then you focused on your feet, slowly moving them back and forth on the ice as you got used to the feeling of the skates gliding across the frozen surface.

with a triumphant huff, you straightened up and slowly started to skate with your hand keeping balance on the edge, much like a learning child. at least they usually had a helper.

you had focused on this for a bit, getting into the swing of things. you looked around with a content smile, slowly moving and breathing in the crisp air as you focused on the sounds of laughter. the christmas spirit was high and you were happier than ever to be experiencing this alone, you couldn’t wait to go home and gush to your sister about your first solo adventure as a young woman.

satisfaction wasn’t fully met, however. you needed to challenge yourself further before calling it a night.

carefully, you let your hand off of the rail and moved carefully away from the edge. your eyes darted around your immediate surroundings, making sure you had enough of a clearing to start skating without bumping into anyone. a big smile grew on your face, you were by no means quick, but at least you were moving!

you focused your eyes back down on your feet, watching closely as you moved one in front of the other with intention. you were getting the hang of it, muscle memory coming back from when you skated as a kid. with your attention far from the outside world, you didn’t notice a duo of young girls coming right for you—too busy laughing amongst each other to notice you drifting in front of them.

one of the girls bumped hard into your shoulder and yelped out a sincere ‘sorry’ as you lost your balance on your feet. you almost kept yourself upright, but you quickly fell back.

you expected to crash down onto the ice with a hard thump, but two arms caught you, hooking underneath your armpits and hoisting you back upright onto your skates. you didn’t have the means to turn around all that quickly, but the person who saved you seemed to realize that, so he skated in front of you and turned to look at you. he made it seem so easy to skate backward.

“you okay?” he asked, but you hardly heard the words because you were so fascinated with how beautiful he was. he had the biggest brown eyes you’d ever seen and a head full of wild curls that he obviously tried to tame. he was also taller than you, making you feel so small under his gaze, but not threatening in the slightest. all you could do was smile at him like a dork.

your knight in shining armour.

a few moments pass and the realization hit that you had been completely silent, “thank you!” you blurted out, your eyes widening in horror because of how you were staring at him like a goddamned fool, "i'm not very good at this."

"you were doing fine until you got bulldozed over," the boy smiled, unabashedly looking you up and down. he cleared his throat and held out two of his gloved hands, "hang on."

you obeyed with no hesitation, your arms extending so you could take his gloved hands in your own. you felt your mouth go dry and you had to force your hands to stop shaking. you were always so much more anxious around boys.

"oh, god," you groaned in anticipation as he started skating backward, pulling you along and forcing you to focus on keeping balance, "you really don't have to spend your time here teaching me how to skate." you looked up at him, feeling like a burden.

"i know," he replied, grinning at you as he kept pulling you along the ice, his gaze only breaking to make sure he wasn't about to skate back into anyone. those brown eyes fell back on you, watching you with a soft gaze as you kept moving with one foot gliding in front of the other, "i'm angus."

"hi, angus," you smiled, chewing on the inside of your lip after you returned the introduction. you could feel your cheeks blushing. you looked down and at your feet again, but your lack of focus got the best of you, "ah, shit!"

just as you lost your footing and balance, nearly flying forward, angus wrapped an arm around you and laughed aloud, pulling you against him so you couldn't tip over. you could've stayed like that forever, nuzzled against this boy's chest and forgetting about the outside world.

"you're clumsy," he teased, flickering his gaze down at you as he led you both to the railing for a rest.

"you only just noticed?" you retorted playfully as you leaned against the support, letting yourself exhale in relief once you could rest the entirety of your weight against it. shyly, you looked back over to angus after a few beats of silence, "you're not here with anyone else?"

angus scrunched his nose in response, shrugging, "it's a long story."

"i like stories," you mused, not ready to let this end. whatever this was.

a breathy laugh came from him as he glanced away to look at something, you hadn't been able to follow his gaze before he was looking at you again. there was something about him that kept your attention, likely the fact that he genuinely seemed to enjoy your presence. it made you giddy and your stomach swirled with butterflies.

"well, i came here with my history teacher," he said, almost sheepishly. you looked at him with slightly furrowed brows, uncertain where this would be going, "i go to a boarding school out of town, north of here. i, uh, didn't get to spend christmas with my family and so i've been stuck at school with him as my chaperone. guess i'm good at convincing people to take me places," he chuckled, his gaze looking anywhere but at you.

"i don't think i would've guessed that story in a million years," you giggled, a smile reaching your eyes as you looked over angus' face, "sorry about your family, though. must be hard around the holidays."

"it's fine," he quipped quickly, you figured it best to not bring up his family anymore.

you fell silent for a bit, thinning your lips as you looked around and focused on your surroundings to pass the time and try to ignore the awkward silence. you watched a group of kids skating together, playfully shoving each other and laughing when one of them wiped out.

"did you want to skate again?" angus' voice broke the silence and you met his eyes. with a small nod, he smiled and gave you his hands again.

the two of you had spent another twenty minutes on the skating rink, laughing together as he taught you how to keep yourself upright. you were happy to report that you'd only fallen on your ass twice, and even when he laughed at you, you felt your heart soaring.

there must've been some good karma you stored up over the year because you weren't sure why you were blessed to run into angus on a night like this. he was cute, funny and just as awkward as you were.

once you two were tired and ready to hang the skates up, you ventured out of the rink and stood at the exit. you had to catch your breath after laughing over some joke angus had made about his time at barton, something stupid that wouldn't have made you laugh in another other situation. angus was just... nice. funny, but in an endearingly dorky way.

as you bent down to untie your skates, you straightened up with a panicked look on your face. "my stuff!" you said, looking up at angus and then around the exterior of the rink, trying to spot the man you'd left your things with. that's where the bad karma came in, leaving you with nothing.

"are you looking for these?" a third voice spoke, your eyes landing on the pipe-smoking man that angus seemed to recognize. you put the pieces together.

"yes! thank you so much!" you smiled as you took the boots from him and your bag, quickly changing into the shoes that allowed you to stand steady. you sighed softly with a smile and looked between the two men, "i, uh, thank you again, sir, for keeping an eye on my things. and thanks, angus, i'm sure by next winter i'll be an olympic figure skater," you smiled, not quite ready to leave without spending more time with the boy, but you weren't sure you'd have the choice.

as luck would have it, though, his teacher, mr. hunham, seemed to have a soft spot for the boy.

"mr. tully, i'm calling it an evening and will be heading to the hotel room, i'm rather tired this evening," the older man explained. you could see the pleading look on angus's face, "i expect to see you there within a few hours or lest you deal with multiple detentions when we're back at barton," he continued with a satisfied look on his face when angus smile, "keep an eye on him for me." he turned to you, letting out a huffy sigh as he looked between the two of you once more before turning on his heels and leaving.

angus was speechless.

"he seems like a nice man," you said in awe as you watched him, growing nervous for other reasons now.

"trust me. he's usually not," angus replied, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat as he looked down at you, "you look cold. i think i saw i coffee shop near here. they probably have hot chocolate or something."

"okay," you smiled, forcing yourself not to let your boy-crazy giddiness get the best of you again.

as you two ventured away from the skating rink, you found yourself feeling more comfortable with each passing second and talking about yourself like an open book. you spoke about everything and nothing, his favourite band was pink floyd and he was currently halfway through reading the novel dune. you shared your own love for the partridge family show, though, you kept your lips tight about your obsession with david cassidy.

you made a mental note to rip the poster of david off your wall if something were to ever come out of this night with you and angus, like hell he'd ever be in your room.

"what do you like so much about boston?" you asked angus as you two walked through one of the downtown streets in boston, your mittens shoved in your pocket as your hands cupped around the hot chocolate you sipped on. the heat emanated from the paper cup and warmed your hands. you two had been walking and talking for a while now and your drink was half-empty.

"you like long-winded answers, don't you?" angus said playfully, bumping himself against your side as you walked together. it caused a laugh to bubble up from you, your cheeks turning red at the closeness.

"what's so long about this answer?" you wondered aloud, glancing up at him.

"my dad is here," he said after taking a moment to think over his words, "he's uh, in the sanitorium," he murmured, not quite meeting your gaze, "not doing well mentally."

"you don't have to say anymore," you urged him, regretful that you asked the question in the first place.

"it's fine, i like you. you're not... judging me." angus admitted, flickering his eyes to you and smiling.

oh, god. that smile made your stomach do flips.

"why would i judge you?" you asked rhetorically, "you've been nothing but kind to me tonight. you didn't even know me and you caught me before i fell on my ass, i mean, that's the most any guy has ever done for me... and you bought me hot chocolate!" you were animated in your words as you spoke, not noticing how you lit up angus' facial expressions.

"like i said, it's because i like you." his lips twitched into a smile before he lifted his cup and downed the rest of his drink. you followed in suit, though, mostly to cover the way you had a smile stuck on your face like a lovesick puppy.

you two found an outdoor garbage bin and tossed your empty cups in, standing on a corner of the street that was near the courtyard with the skating rink. it was quiet there now, only then noticing how late it had gotten.

"so, what's your story?" angus interrupted your thoughts as he kept walking, you needing to take a few quick steps to meet his pace as he led you to a bench to sit down on. the perfect spot to watch the christmas lights flicker around the rink and people watch the last remaining people who were skating.

"it's hardly a story," you laughed, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up to the night sky, the stars hidden because of the city lights, "i'm just crawling my way to graduation so i can get out of my parent's house and go to college," you look over at him, "are you graduating, too?"

he shook his head, "i was expelled a few times," he admitted with an amused look on his face, "should be graduating, but stuck as a junior because of my atrocious behaviour," he teased with a click of his tongue.

"expelled?" you laughed, "wow, i didn't expect such a gentleman like you to be so fond of troublemaking."

that got a laugh out of him, the smile reaching his eyes as he turned ever-so-slightly to better look at you while you two sat together, "yep, i'm the absolute worst. though, i plead my case as i've been wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet once when it was obviously not true."

"uh-huh," you smirked, "are you certain about the wrongly accused part?" you snorted a laugh.

the night was perfect. the two of you sharing so many laughs that your cheeks were hurting and you were beginning to feel like you knew angus for years and this was simply a reunion of friends. you knew at some point it would end, but you didn't want to think about it. not yet, it was too painful of a thought.

your laughter settled and you couldn't break your gaze from angus, the silence looming, but not overwhelming. as you admired him, you caught the way his brown eyes flickered down to your lips and you inhaled sharply, the breath catching.

"i, uh—can i kiss you?" his words were gentle, but they rang through your ears loudly, causing chaos and mayhem that left you feeling like a nervous wreck, "unless i'm reading this wrong."

you parted your lips to speak but nothing came out. all you could do was look down at his lips and nod, hoping that your movements spoke volumes. thankfully, they did.

angus leaned forward, hesitating for a second, but if you could will your way forward to adventuring boston alone, then you could sure as hell will your way forward to meet him halfway. you leaned forward bravely and closed your eyes just as your lips met his, a tingling sensation rolling waves over your skin.

it was a simple kiss, one that made your lips numb when you pulled away and looked up into his eyes. but it wasn’t enough for angus because you were soon pulled into another as his hand lifted and cupped your jaw, keeping you against him as your lips moved together at a gentle, easy pace. he parted your lips with his own, which gave him the space to slip his tongue into your mouth and cause a soft sound to escape your lips. you were fully entranced by him, completely malleable under his touch as you tasted his tongue on your own—sweet like chocolate.

this went on for a few minutes, maybe longer. you two indulging in the kiss you both were anticipating the moment you set eyes on each other.

“this sucks,” you murmured when the kiss finally broke, you two parting to breathe.

“why?” angus furrowed his brows slightly, his hand still on your jaw.

“because i really like you,” you said, pursing your lips into a pout, “and at some point i’m going to have to say goodbye.”

angus shared the sentiment, frowning slightly, “i’ll come to boston again, okay?” he said, just as passionate about you as you were to him, “and if you give me your number i promise to call you.”

you nodded, sighing and watching the way your warm breath fogged up in the cold air. the city was so silent and you’d never been able to experience it quite like this, let alone with a boy you kissed. knowing that it was getting late, though, left you nervous. you had told your parents you wouldn’t be out long and would go to your sister's apartment downtown for a ride back home—leave it up to a boy like angus tully to make it fun to break the rules.

“when do you go back to barton?” you asked him quietly like you didn’t want to hear the answer.

“the day after tomorrow,” angus murmured, his thumb stroking along the skin over your cheek, “i’m gonna’ try visit my dad tomorrow,” he said, “that’s the whole reason i convinced mr. hunham to bring me here, he doesn’t even know.”

you widened your eyes in surprise, “do you think he’ll let you go?”

“probably not, but i’ll find a way.” he said, but not quite fully convinced.

“it’ll work out, angus,” you said, a shiver running up his spine as you said his name, “just like you and me. i’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

he was glad that you managed to see the bright side in all of this, as the night was coming to an end he was beginning to let his negative thoughts pull through. already he could tell that you were going to be a big part of his life, even if it ended up being fleeting and short.

“come on,” angus breathed out, removing his hand from your cheek and standing up. he offered his hand for you to take.

“where are we going?” you asked him, blinking a few times as you took his hand, no mittens or gloves in the way as his fingers interlaced with yours.

“nowhere in particular,” he said, keeping you close as you walked through the quiet boston streets in the early morning hours and spending the last bit of freedom together that you two could muster.

when all was said and done, you found yourself exhausted as you curled up in your bed with the first bit of sunrise spilling through your curtains. it was a bittersweet end to your night with angus, leaving you uncertain about what the future would hold. all you knew was that you’d be waiting for that phone call he promised you.

and taking down your poster of david cassidy.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers #dominic sessa #angus tully fic #the holdovers fic #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

261 notes · View notes

behoright · 1 year

Text

console me l m. barzal

how it feels to rest / on your patient lips

summary: as angry as mat is after the season loss, he cannot hide it from you. mostly plotless smut

wordcount: 4.6k

warnings: minors DNI! 18+ only. smut, sexual situations that include rough sex, degrading language and behaviors, pain/pleasure dynamics, pet names, consent break/check, bodily fluids. mentions of size difference and love lol.

a/n: for all my sad, islanders girlies. masterlist is fixed! muah.

read me please: i cannot say this any more clearly: this is not for everyone. read at your discretion. the warnings are stated as clearly as i can my loves. my inbox is always open to have any discussion about writing, relationships, sex, bdsm and kink. if this makes you uncomfortable or simply is not your cup of tea, move on my dear. love u guys always.

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It really took only a day to figure out.

As much as he tried to hide it, leave it at the rink.

Anger.

Mat had never been so pissed before.

For once, he knew that he had given it his all.

He had sacrificed, time and time again.

Played through sickness, injuries, birthdays, and special events.

Harder than ever before.

Despite knowing that everything passes, he couldn’t shake the thought, or perhaps the fact, that there had been other factors that cost the team the cup.

Things out of his control.

And it drove him to the edge every night.

Having to see his teammates get more disappointed with every passing second on the ice.

Knowing that their dream was slipping away from them, no matter how much he had clawed and fought to hold on.

He spent extra time at the gym, on the ice, hours after the last painful loss, just to attempt to get rid of the anger.

But it wasn’t working.

Instead, it just fueled the apparent neverending and burning cycle.

The last thing he wanted to do was bring his negativity home.

Back to you.

To the safe haven you had both built so meticulously.

The only person that stood by his side, in every sense of the word, didn’t deserve to take the brunt.

However, you could see the cracks.

He was very good at veiling it, but not good enough for you.

The past couple days had brought you a huge sense of gratitude, knowing you were in a relationship that stripped your souls and bodies.

Fully being yourselves at all times.

So, as you packed to begin your various summer travels, you knew you had no other choice.

Something was pounding, deep from inside you, to open this door for you two.

You stood in your shared room, watching Mat’s muscular back crouched down in the walk in closet as he messily threw his shirts in his luggage.

“Mat?” you called him, voice shaky.

“Hmm, babe?” he asked, still packing.

“How are you feeling?”

The question wasn’t anything new, a domestic ritual you two had to keep your connection based in truth wholly.

Since you had both promised to listen without any stories or distractions in exchange for the complete truth, every single time, it had become easier to share.

“Well, love…” he sighed, not daring to face you as his face stiffened, your question bringing up his most repressed feelings. “I’m angry. I’m fucking frustrated at how it all ended, you know?”

“You are?” you said, walking towards him, picking at the skin on your hands nervously.

“Yeah, baby. It’s okay, I mean, it’ll pass. But I’m angry.”

“Take it out on me.” you blurted out, strong in your stance and words, now only a couple of feet behind him. “Fuck me as hard as you can.”

Mat stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as his mind emptied, only being able to stare at the half empty suitcase in front of him.

Whether he liked to admit it or not, he knew that you could see right through him.

There was no hiding from the woman he loved.

“I know that we’ve talked about this before but… are you sure you can handle it?” he questioned, turning around to look at you.

“I know I can, Mat.”

“Baby…”

The overhead warm light surrounded your head like a halo as he looked up at you.

He wondered, during a poetic moment, how his angel could be giving herself over to him like this.

“I’m asking for it.” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Can you handle it?”

For a moment he forgot that his sweet angel was no such thing behind closed doors. Ever since the first night, he saw that dark fire inside you, and it hadn’t gone out in years.

Mat was the perfect fan to your flames.

“Oh, so it’s like that huh?” Mat answered, his lips curling up into a smirk as he stood up to tower over you. “Will you tell me if you need me to stop?”

“Yes.” you gulped as you two stood just inches apart. “I remember my word.”

“You do, huh?” he asked as you saw his feet take one last step towards you, the fabric of his shirt ghosting over yours.

“I can take it.” you repeated, getting lost in his eyes as you looked up into his dark eyes.

“Yeah, we can take it, right, baby?” he uttered, his fingers wrapping around the sides of your neck as his eyes looked down upon you. “We fucking can.”

His lips finally met yours, Mat’s tongue swiping feverishly on your bottom lip before invading your mouth, drippingly meeting yours in a heated makeout session.

The belligerence of his kiss sent a moan reberverating inside his open mouth.

Mat loved to make out. He could do it for hours, until his cock began to twitch restlessly in his denim.

He opened his mouth fully, letting you invade each other messily.

Lately, he had taken it as far as to spit in your mouth. Not forcefully, but just letting a trail of spit drip from the tip of his tongue into your throat, the height difference coming to his advantage.

It felt so fucking primal to him that it always sent you flying against a wall everytime he’d see the look of passion and satisfaction in your eyes after you swallowed his saliva.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about? All those times I was heated, venting at you?”

he asked, forcing you to take steps back into the bedroom, still holding you tightly, the tips of his fingers pushing against the ridges of your scalp.

“Yes.” you whispered into a kiss. The sensual murmur drove him to bite your bottom lip, pull it towards him as he stopped your motions.

“Oh, what is wrong with you, baby? That’s so fucking bad.” he said, watching the bite swell up exquisitely as you smiled, enticing him into more kisses.

More spit, boiling into each other and pushing each other unconsciously as you two ondulated in your heat. He began to shove himself intensely against you, getting more of those moans he loved so much.

“You can’t even be quiet when I kiss you.” he said, shaking his head slowly as his hand came to rest on the front of your neck. He flinched backwards when you attempted to kiss him again.

It was his bedroom now.

“Come here.” he barked, sitting down on the bed. “This will shut you up.”

He didn’t have to repeat himself before you kneeled in front of him, not even giving him a chance to undo his pants before your mouth salivated over him. He rested his long fingers on your shoulder, almost keeping you tamed as he pulled out his erection.

“Eager, eager girl.” he chuckled, watching you leap onto him.

You wished you could take him entirely the second your tongue met the salty precum that had dribbled down his shaft, but that had never been a possibility.

Unbeknownst to you, Mat fucking loved it.

He adored that you struggled to take him, that you wanted so hard to swallow him whole at a first try.

His head fell back, exposing his thick adam’s apple as it thumped in his throat, Mat trying to hide his gulps every time your lips wrapped around him lower and lower.

You knew just how to please him, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks just at the right minute spots that still took his by surprise every single time.

Mat felt your desperation as you kept taking him down, so eager to please him. For a second, it enchanted him, filling him with gratitude that he had a partner that so badly wanted to destress him.

However, it was short-lived.

It was not what you wanted, or what he needed.

“Fuck.”

It felt good, his toes slowly beginning to curl as he felt strings of precum coat the back of your throat, but the more he channeled the feeling that he had pushed away for so long, the more restless he became.

Every time you gagged, your muscles would clench around him, shocking him with exhilarating stimulation.

“Sit up. Now.” he said, strictly, jumping out of his experience. You tentatively moved away from him, the only thing connecting you two now being a sloppy trail of saliva.

“Baby, I-, I-...” you said, uncertainly.

“You what? Hmm?” he asked, undressing as you stared at him dumbfounded.

Throughout the years, Mat had never sounded so stern in the bedroom as he did now.

“You asked for angry Mat, didn’t you?” he continued, tapping your head demeaningly in an effort to sit you up. “Beggars can’t be choosers, doll.”

The register in his voice was forceful and humiliating enough to send your desire running down the inside of your thighs, his muscular hands working on practically ripping your clothes off so harshly that he had thrown you off balance a couple of times.

Your heart began to race in anticipation as he silently threw the half-trashed garments through the room.

He was decisive, precise in his actions, and it made you slightly trepid.

Prolepsis and nerves mixing acidly in your stomach; you knew you had the choice to revoke consent anytime, but you were grounded enough to know that Mat was the safest man to do this with.

Apart from working up to it for months now, and seeing him slowly come out of his shell and let go further every time he got you to himself behind closed doors, you knew how much you wanted this.

Your body knew as well, your blood rushing rapidly to your cunt as he kept grazing against your skin, snapping the back of your bra before discarding it mindlessly. You could feel the flames of his subjugated feelings simmering again, coming to the surface the more he got out of his head and into his body, his breath becoming deeper and hotter against your skin, breathing out frustration with low, vibrational groans.

“Get on the bed.” he yapped as soon as you were fully naked, his hand pushing you a tad bit too potently onto your bed; so much so that you naturally rested your sweaty limbs on the blankets on all fours.

“Look how wet you are. You’re not embarrassed?” he spit out, running his finger up your slit sloppily as he set himself behind you. “I haven’t even touched you, Y/N.”

He was just a hair over the line, authoritative in his colloquy and pinpointing his acts precisely to get you where he wanted.

He didn’t care to run himself on your slit, not tonight, his cock still dripping with your thick spit. He thrusted entirely into you, his pounding head coming in contact with your cervix instantly, making your body barely jolt forward.

“You should be fucking ashamed, Y/N, not moaning.” he barked, as he began to move painfully slow. His thick length, running in and out of your tight walls at a lethargic pace.

Still, feeling every inch so powerfully split you apart with no preparation, the ridges of his member and his veins skimming your engorged insides ripped moans out of you like never before.

“You just love being a fuck toy for me, don’t you.” he said, roughly intensifying the grip on your hips as he gradually sped up his movements. He sounded just as rough, doing his best to hold back any signs of satisfaction, but it wasn’t easy. He had made you into a mess so quickly and it mostly came down to his demeanor.

Ever since he met you, he knew he’d treat you right and respectfully, only you.

He never cared to seem friendly to other girls, truthfully; because he had you.

The only girl that had naturally commanded such a soft love and tenderness out of him. It was almost ironic to him how the tougher he was with you in between the sheets, the more you melted.

And god, did he love to see you like this.

Spread vulnerably and already on the brink after a handful of thrusts.

It drove him mad, struggling to keep any self-control just to have you on a tittering edge.

But feeling you drip around him, your yearning for him ebbing and flowing out of your pussy as it mixed with the spit that you’d left on his cock, now all of it mixing and coating both of you.

“Yeah, my little doll.” he said, masking his exasperation as he found a steady rhythm that made your ass recoil delightfully against his pelvis, the chiseled V that framed his cock pounding hard into your flesh as you began to see stars.

Your mouth was stuck open, wanting his call out his name miserably but finding it impossible as the tension kept building within you, tightening your pussy all around and sending shivers down his back as his legs began to tense, inch by inch.

He groaned deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and striving to pivot on that feeling he adored so much, all the sensations that came with being buried deep inside you.

But all he found was that anger.

The emotion he had tried to leave at work, to get past.

The one that you had noticed.

For good reason, because it was unignorable.

And so he focused on it, the frustration that he had accumulated for months beginning to expand and find its way insidiously through every vessel, every corner of his being. His jaw clenched, the more he let it take over him, the more pleasure would grow, passing from you to him and burning brightly in his belly.

The hinges of the bed creaked and slammed against the wall, his bedframe scratching against his beloved wooden floor as his ears were blessed with your saccharine moans, leaving you unexpectedly and unplanned.

Your body knew how to take him precisely as his thrusts moved you forward, encouraging all the natural sounds to come out of you instinctively.

He was afraid that if he let go of your hips that he would lose it.

He was afraid that he’d pound you right into the mattress; instead, he had a set intention to make this last, to see how far he could take you.

Mat had never heard you sound so beautiful, he thought, just as his rage came to a peak; he could feel his joints begin to sore as he gave it his all, unwilling to stop and let go, fully zoned into unloading his stress.

He never knew it would bring you so much bliss as he looked down and saw the consequences, heavenly squelching echoing against his growls. He knew you were losing it, micro mannerisms in your body letting him see that you were reaching your orgasm hastily.

He didn’t need to see your face.

He knew that that familiar blush had knocked at your door, covering your cheeks expansively as your moaning got more high-pitched and frenetic, your pussy twitching around his moving cock.

“Slow down, you’re making a fucking mess.” he commanded, smugly knowing it would allow it to rip through you, just as it did.

His knuckles turned white just as yours did, the grip on your sheets fatally unyielding as you let go, coming over Mat.

The pleasure sparking every synapse in your brain, the cozy feeling flashing through you over and over again as he kept fucking, still roughly and aggressively.

“You’re fucking gushing.” he said, brave enough to let a hand come down, hard on your ass. The nonchalant tone of disgust in his voice made your whole body light up, tiny bumps forming on your skin at his words as you began to come down from your orgasm.

Mat kept relentlessly, only speeding up, just edging at the border of being too much. As he hit the same spot over and over again, forcefully, your limbs became weak, succumbing to the tremoring that Mat was sending through your system.

The more you came on him, the more degrading he’d become, periodically spitting onto your core. You knew it wasn’t for any functional purpose more than for humiliating pleasure, giving you everything you craved and more. You couldn’t ask for more, his groans and insults filling up the room; however, the needier you acted, the more Mat would crack under you.

And the more you pretended you didn’t notice it, the harder your eyes would roll back.

“You’re so fucking loud, god damn. I’d tell you to shut up, but I know you can’t do it, you’re so heated up.”

Your muscles started to twitch faintly as he snuck his hand around you to rub your clit vigorously, pushing against your skin with sadistic pressure. As much as you tried to get any words of warning out, your body betrayed you, falling pathetically flush against the mattress, the only thing leaving you a whimper.

The movement wasn’t surprising to you; you had noticed the build-up and distress signals a while ago but had stupidly given in to the thrill instead.

For Mat, however, it was a different story.

Seeing you tremble against his milky sheets, writhing around slowly and whimpering had him worried immediately. He pulled out swiftly before turning you around.

Thankfully, your eyes found each other, giving him an encouraging sign of lucidity from you.

“Look into my eyes. Are you okay?” he said, clenching his fingers underneath your chin.

“M’kay.”

Through blurry vision, you were able to find his dark gaze, regardless of how he was touching your face. The grip on your cheek was so protective and yet you couldn’t ignore the hedonism in his touch.

“What is it? I’m not going to keep fucking you if you’re lying to me.” he said, harshly.

Your brain had melted, completely caved into him, his energy and touch that had brought you to this place so quickly. The unfamiliar floaty feeling neighbored you as you began to tranquilize your boyfriend.

“I’m not lying.” you muttered lazily, gaining enough strength to prop yourself up on your elbows, your nose now touching his. “It just feels so good, Mat.”

Your confession took Mat by surprise.

His worst fear was taking it all too far, unwillingly hurting you in any way, whether that be physically or otherwise.

All the same, here you were, in all of your splendor under him, shaking from pleasure.

It didn’t take long to realize that perhaps he had induced some sort of high, if that was possible.

“You need a kiss?” he asked, his eyes still diligently studying your face. “You need a kiss, don’t you, yeah, come here.”

It wasn’t frenzied or fiery, and still, it told him everything he needed to know.

“That’s all? Better?” he looked at you once more, running his mental checklist.

Eyes were good, skin not too flushed, she can kiss normally, and speak. Not dehydrated or pale.

“Much better.”

The transparency in your speech set in stone what he had thought of.

The words that so easily came out of him, his mannerisms and gestures had sent you haywire, quivering with vibrant intensity, the bliss forcing its way out of your pores, steaming from your skin.

“Good job.” he coaxed, mentally patting himself on the back with a smirk as you fell back down onto the cloudy mattress with a dreamy sigh, a hazy look fixated on him.

Drunk on pleasure, he thought, snickering.

“I bet you feel so dirty, don’t you?” Mat said, his chest heaving with warm sweat dripping from his stubble down onto his pecs. Vulnerability surrounded you both, your eyes running upon each other’s bodies. Taking this moment to pause made sure you were attending to each other fully and completely, the desire still consuming you thoroughly. In the quietness, Mat took his fingers and began running them down your abdomen, barely grazing your clammy skin.

“I asked you a question, doll.” he said, moving his touch again up your centerline. You could only nod, his fingertips electrifying you with eternal bliss as they found their resting place on your plump lips.

“Are you having trouble with your words?” he said, breathlessly mocking you before you stuck your tongue out, soaking his digits by letting them sit on you.

After all, Mat didn’t think he could break any further.

Until then.

Seeing you embrace the feeling gave him the reassurance that he was subconsciously looking for.

He was incredulous at your actions, sticking your tongue out fully, with no shame or guilt, and only for him.

Letting your spit absorb into his calloused skin, while more saliva pooled visibly at the back of your throat.

Disgustingly.

And it made his throbbing cock twitch, heedlessly slapping against your cunt in a wet motion.

“Fuck, angel.”

He pushed it further by entering your mouth and your pussy simultaneously, a choked moan surrounding his hand as your eyes flew back.

“That’s my fucking girl.” he said, his eyebrows furrowed as he wasted no time in his fucking, militantly filling you fully again. “Doesn’t it make you feel so good, baby?”

“It does.” you moaned, obediently answering his every question and request.

“Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be so dirty for me?” he asked, flush taking over him again.

It was so delightful to see him let go, fully, just as he thought the same about you.

“So nasty, such a sick little girl.” he continued. “Turn around, come here.”

Mat sat back on his heels, guiding you to sit on his cock.

The will was stronger than logic, your thighs quivering as you sunk down on him.

Mat always hit deeper at this angle, his cock bulging out on your lower tummy as your ass came flush with him.

“You’re so bad, so fucking bad. And look at you, you don’t even care.” he said, moving your hair to the side as his lips grazed against the shell of your ear.

“What would everyone say if they saw you acting like this, huh? Begging to take me after I’m so mean to you. After I slap you, choke you, and spit on you. After I say the most degrading fucking shit to you, you don’t care. It makes your panties drenched, doesn’t it?”

Mat’s hands ran up past your tummy and found a tight hold on your tits, variating between letting them bounce in his palm and gripping them so desperately that it left marks on you. Your chests moved in synch, up and down with your motions; you let your head fall back on his shoulder as you unavailingly rebounded briskly, tightening just at the perfect moment, when your opening came in touch with the delicious curve between his pelvis and the base of his cock.

“Just as I fucking thought, you can’t even hold back.” he said, grinding ever so slightly against you. The recognizable feeling started to take over you for the millionth time, candied moans causing Mat to jolt against you unexpectedly and thrust deeper.

“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” he asked, slapping one of your breasts. “Your body gives you away so easily, angel face.”

He was solid under you, your loving foundation as more juices ran out of you, covering his thighs in sticky squirt, your whole being quivering in delight with his arms instinctively holding you through it.

“That’s because you’re mine, yeah?”

Your eyes, stuck on the ceiling, recognized just how close his face was to yours, gaze fixated on your expression as it furrowed and sweated the incessant orgasm.

“Yeah, I don’t even have to fucking ask.”

Mat kept talking, kept grinding, as his hands got more desperate, undecided between all the layers of skin and flesh. The more he focused on you, the more he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer, and as much as he felt that most of the night, he knew that the simple intemperance that had built inside him was about to burst.

“Look at you. You need more? You always fucking do.” he coaxed, settling his left hand on your throat as your whole body kept aching, spasming sweetly on top of him.

Totally uncontrolled.

Unaware of what liquids were leaving you and what noises you were making.

Your brain only handling and pining for pleasure.

More and more.

“It’s never fucking enough for you, is it? You love it when I cross the line with you, you needy, needy girl.” he said, his grip on your throat tightening slightly enough to make your dotted vision fill with sparkles.

Your head snapped up as your abdomen contracted, almost painfully sore, finally letting you breathe deeply as your body gave you a second to recuperate.

Tears involuntarily left the corners of your eyes, perhaps from the delectation of it all, the intensity, the overwhelm, or the tiredness.

“It feels so, so good. You make me feel so good.” you managed to find the strength to whisper against Mat’s lips before letting yours fall on top of his in a loving kiss.

“Oh, god, you’re going to make me cum, baby.”

Mat’s voice quivered, as he stared into you; he had never breathed deeper and yet hyperventilated at the same time, just as he'd never felt so much rage and frustration mixed with pleasure all at once.

“Like that, like that, like that.” he said, through gritted teeth. “Fucking look at me.”

He grabbed your chin roughly, your face pouting under his touch in the cutest way, he thought. “Like that, baby, fuck.”

Mat exclaimed loudly as he colvulsed forward, his cum filling your tight hole with a growl so deep that you felt yourself vibrate at the power in his voice. You sloppily kept jumping on his dick, every single muscle of his being flexing in concentration and gratification as his warm seed seeped inside you and overflowed, running down his hips before he had the chance to pull out.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” he moaned, breathlessly. You finally fell, completely limp, into the puddle that he made you in since the beginning.

“That’s okay, that’s okay, fall into my arms.” Mat reassured, still firing under you. “You did so good. You were so, so good, angel.”

Mat had enough of a size advantage on you to manhandle you, this time turning you both onto your sides after a couple of quiet moments, keeping his cock warm still inside your folds.

“I love you, I love you, baby. So much. Thank you, thank you. Come here.” he whispered against you, running his hand through your locks as he pulled you closer to him by your waist.

“Are you good, baby?” he said, watching you nod with a sweet smile on your face. “Why are you crying?”

“It just felt so good, babe.” you reassured him, turning slightly to play with his shining chain that sat damply on his collarbones.

“I would never hurt you, yeah? You’re safe with me.” he whispered into your cheek in between kisses. “I got you always, babe. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

“I know, baby, I love you.” you said, your eyes into his. “Are you okay, Mat?”

“Oh, baby, yes, yes I’m okay don’t worry. Was I too rough? Too mean? You can tell me, love.”

“No, no, it was perfect.” you repeated. You’d say it as many times as it was needed.

“Good. You were perfect.” he said.

You didn’t know, but he thought the same. Reassurance had no limit for him.

“I see you, I see you fully and I love you, I love everything about you.”

“I love you more, Mat.” you said in between kisses. “Do you feel better now?”

“Oh, baby. So much fucking better.”

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal rpf #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #ny islanders #smut #nhl #nhl rpf #hockey #nhl fic #nhl smut #hockey smut #kikiwrites

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cherryredstars · 7 months

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Hi! I’ve been following you for a while, not so long, but for a while, and I just wanted to say I am absolutely in love with your Miguel fan fics. Especially the one that stars female!miguel in too, absolutely love it. I have a little request of my own, but if you feel uncomfortable with this one no need to do it🫶🏻.

So, I basically just wanted a hypersexual!reader x Miguel. I personally suffer with hypersexual disorder to my own reason. I’m not sure how to explain what hypersexual is, so you can just search it up (sorry!!😭)

I kinda want it to still be apart of spiderman arc (Miguel is still spider man 2099 and reader is also spider women/man)

Miguel can find out reader is hypersexual by her/him file or smth like that, I’m not sure how to explain it😣

If you feel uncomfortable by this request, no need to do it and no pressure :)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut, Reader is Hypersexual, Genital Examination, Mentions of Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, and Sexual Fantasies

Summary: Miguel has always been good with examining disorders.

A/N: It’s okay anon!! I already know what hypersexuality is because samesies!!!

Word Count: 615 (Not Edited)

He knew.

He practically knew everything with his discovery of the multiverse and LYLA by his side. So it didn’t surprise you when he had cornered you, questioning you about the hypersexuality notes in your file. It did leave you embarrassed, a stuttering fool with blazing cheeks and a tongue that couldn’t articulate anything. He had asked you if it would affect your performance, if you’d be too distracted to be on the field. You had hastily disagreed, assuring him that you’d be at peak performance on any and all missions you’d be on. He left you with a grumbling, ‘I’ll make sure of that’ and a flashing visual of his rough body pressed against yours.

You had never imagined his I’ll make sure of that would be him dealing with it personally. Physically. Before every mission you went on.

Everytime he pulls you into a lab, pressing your front down on a lab table as he performs his…examination. His chest pressing against your back, your suit pooling around your ankles as his hand slips between your legs. His hand, large and rough, cups you entirely, massaging your throbbing sex. Soft whines and moans escape you as his hands get drenched with your arousal. It's sticky, staining your skin and making squelching noises that make you embarrassed. Everytime you try to squirm away, he grunts and presses you harder against the flat surface, mumbling something about not being done.

He continues his examination, fingers touching and massaging every part of your sex. He takes extra care with your slit, pressing his fingers to it until you're whining and on the edge of release. Some days, he lets you finish and others he edges you until he gets bored. But his examination is never the end of it. He always presses more into you, his hard erection pressing to your bare ass as he whispers into your ear.

Tell me. Tell me what sick little fantasies your dirty mind thought of today.

And as per routine, you do. In a whimpering and needy voice, you list out all the thoughts you can remember as he hums absentmindedly. He always tsks when you're finished, cooing about how he needs to get rid of those thoughts before you can be cleared for duty. His suit disintegrates, leaving him naked and twitchy behind you. His erection is always rock hard and swollen, throbbing against your ass as he preps your hole. He swears he’s your miracle cure, the only one that can help you momentarily stop those thoughts and keep your body satisfied. He drills it into you, syncing each word with a thrust that blurs your mind.

He’ll spend all the time he has before you have to go running through your list of fantasies, leaving each one fulfilled or until you’ve cummed so much that you have nothing else to give. And even then, if you’re still greedy and not fully satisfied, he’ll continue to play with your body. He plays with your sex, drinks up your arousal until he swallows it down, or continues his numbing thrusts until your body is a shaking and unstable mess. And, when you’re satisfied, when all thoughts are erased, he’ll pull away from your body. His suit reappears as he helps zip up yours.

When the both of you leave, he pressed up right behind you, whispering in your ear how he’ll see you for your next check up. And your mind drones on and on about the new fantasies and scenarios, your body becoming insatiable again.

You always seem to be in need of an examination sooner rather than later, and Miguel is always prepared to administer them.

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dixons-sunshine · 4 days

Text

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter 1 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl went on a run for some supplies when you stumbled across an injured man. While discussing whether or not to help the man with his injuries, something happened that instantly changed things for the two of you.

Genre: Fluff, angst towards the end.

Era: Alexandria, no Negan era.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of being knocked out and drugged.

Word count: 2.3k.

A/n: I'm so excited to get started on this! It's not my usual writing but this is such a cool idea that was requested. Not a lot of things going on in this chapter, but I promise that the next chapter will be better and longer. Anyways, I hope you like this!

The groans of an unsuspecting walker were effectively silenced by the flying of an arrow through its rotting skull. The owner of that very arrow, Daryl Dixon, stepped forward and aggressively removed the object from the monster's skull, blood splattering everywhere, including on the archer's face.

“Fuck,” Daryl cursed, wiping at his face to get rid of the foul smelling black liquid that spattered on his face, but instead of ridding himself of it, the blood instead just smeared across his face. “Fuckin' dickhead.”

Soft giggles reached Daryl's ears, making a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Daryl turned around and locked eyes with you, an amused smile painting your beautiful features.

“Wha's so funny?” Daryl questioned, his eyes following your movements as you carefully hoisted yourself over the table that was previously used to block the door.

You shook your head, your smile never leaving your face. “Nothing,” you began, placing your hand in his when he offered it to you. “Just thinking about all my hard work that has gone to waste.”

“Wha' are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl asked, helping you jump down from the large object. Even when you were on the ground, the archer's hand remained in yours, a rare occurrence that you treasured greatly.

“Just the fact that I meticulously cleaned you up in the shower earlier this morning, and not even three hours later, you're already dirty again,” you explained, playfully bumping your hip against his. “I don't think there's ever been a time when you were clean for more than a day.”

“S'wha' ya signed up fer when ya agreed to marry me, sunshine,” Daryl began playfully, eyeing the ring on your finger fondly. “In sickness and in health. In cleanliness and in filth.”

“That's not how it goes,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“S'how I remember it.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in mock annoyance. “Let's just get the supplies and get home. I'm hungry and Carol promised she'd make that lasagna of hers for me.”

Daryl chuckled. “Told ya tha' ya should'a stayed home,” he began, holding his crossbow up as the two of you entered a different room of the small store Eugene had found on one of his maps. “Ya've been feelin' sick lately. Ain't managed to keep any food down fer a while now. Ya should rest, take tha' medicine Denise gave ya.”

You laughed nervously and let your hand drift down to your stomach once you were sure your husband wasn't looking, slightly rubbing your hand over the nonexistent baby bump—a bump that soon wouldn't be nonexistent. A bump that would change everything for you and Daryl. Something you had yet to tell your husband of, too nervous about his reaction to even approach the topic at all.

You knew you shouldn't have kept something like that from the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The life that was growing inside of you was just as much his as it was yours, and he deserved to know. He deserved to know so that he could choose whether or not he wanted to embark on the journey of parenthood with you. If he didn't want to be a father, you would never make him feel obligated to stay with you and raise a child he didn't want. However, you selfishly wanted to prolong the inevitable discussion of your impending motherhood, wanting instead to enjoy moments like these with the man you loved; moments where you bickered playfully, where it felt like the two of you were the only people in the world.

“Peach?” Daryl questioned, snapping you from your train of thought. “Ya alrigh'?” he finished, looking over at you worriedly. You looked like a deer caught in headlights, and he didn't like that.

You quickly sent him, what you hoped was, a reassuring smile. “I'm fine. Just got a little woozy there for a second.”

“Ya wanna head on back?” Daryl asked quietly, his eyes holding that softness that he reserved only for you. “I can get some things by myself. Ya dun' need to be here.”

You shook your head in denial. “No, I'm fine. I promise. I wanna help you.”

“Peach—”

Before your husband could continue his concerned persuading, a loud crash came from somewhere in the relatively small building. Both you and Daryl spun in the direction of the loud sound, both of you raising your respective weapons—you raising your gun, and Daryl raising his crossbow.

Daryl's eyes flickered back towards you, a cautious glint in his eyes. You were sure your eyes mirrored his apprehension. Without speaking a word, the archer moved forward, his footsteps silent from years of hunting practice. Following closely behind him, the two of you moved towards the one of the only other doors in the whole building. You knew the noise couldn't have come from the fire escape door, so there was only one other option; the one that led down to the basement.

Making sure to keep an eye out for any potential walkers, the two of you carefully walked down the stairs. Daryl made sure to be ahead of you, his need to protect you from any danger overshadowing everything else. If there was danger down there, whether it be from a walker or another human being, he wanted you to be able to flee first. He'd rather die himself than have to lose you.

You heard the injured person long before you saw them. The muffled cries of someone reached your ears instantly when you reached the bottom of the stairs. In the old world, you would've run to the person to help, no questions asked, but the apocalypse hardened you. You couldn't trust anyone, even if they were injured. You just had to be cautious. That was the way of life in the new world.

Daryl raised his crossbow more, steadying the heavy object in his arms. You moved to stand beside your husband, raising both your gun and your flashlight to illuminate the small room. The beam of the flashlight landed on a man, his tear filled brown eyes squinting against the harsh glare of the light. He was gripping his side hardly, but streams of blood still pooled from the open wound.

“Hello?” the man rasped out in a broken whisper. Daryl remained silent, opting instead to keep his weapon trained on the man, obviously making him even more nervous. “I'm not dangerous, I swear.”

“Are you armed?” you questioned, not lowering your gun until you were certain of the safety of your current predicament.

The man slowly nodded. “I have a knife,” he began, unsheathing his knife and sliding it over to the two of you. “And a gun in my bag over there, but it's practically useless. I don't have any bullets for the thing. I came down here hoping to find more, but then I fell and knocked against that shelf over there. That jagged piece of metal stabbed my side.”

“So now yer cryin' on the floor 'bout it?” Daryl questioned gruffly. “Ya couldn't walk it off? Yer the perfect bait fer the walkers righ' now.”

“Daryl,” you addressed him in a low, warning tone. “He's hurt and he hasn't pulled anything on us. He gave us his knife. I don't think we have to be that harsh right now.”

“I dun' trust him,” Daryl grunted, eyeing the man distastefully. “It was too easy. Would ya give yer weapons over to complete strangers tha' easily?”

“I'm right here, you know,” the man groaned out, wincing at the pain in his side.

“Ain't talkin' to ya. Shut up.” Daryl turned back to you, his eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “We can't trust him, Peach.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flickering between the unknown man and your husband. “Can we at least help get him cleaned up and bandaged? He's gonna bleed out if we don't.”

Daryl sighed. “Yer too nice fer yer own good sometimes.”

“I'm gonna choose to see that as a compliment,” you began, a small smile spreading over your face. “Does that mean we can help him?”

“That isn't going to be necessary.”

A loud gunshot echoed through the room, the man you had wanted to help being murdered right in front of your eyes with a single bullet to the head. You gasped and instinctively raised your gun. However, before you could spin around and assess the threat head-on, you felt a harsh blow to the back of your head.

You fell to the floor, black spots coating your vision. A strident pain flooded through you, and you couldn't think clearly anymore. The last thing you remembered was Daryl calling out to you, your husband vigorously thrashing against the hold of your ambushers.

Then everything went black.

You groaned in pain when you awoke. Your head was throbbing painfully, but when you tried to bring your hand up to rub at the pain, you realized you couldn't. Your hands were tightly bound behind your back, and you soon discovered that your legs were in the same predicament. You opened your eyes to scan your surroundings, but just to rub salt into the wound, you found that you couldn't see anything. A coarse material rubbed against your face, and you quickly figured out that you had a bag over your head, successfully obscuring your vision.

All at once, the memories about the events leading up to your predicament rushed back to you. The store, the basement, the man you wanted to help getting murdered, Daryl calling out to you—

You gasped and tried to sit up, worry flooding through you like an unstoppable river. “Daryl?” you frantically called out, your words muffled by the sack over your head. “Daryl?!”

“Y/n?” came the raspy reply from your husband.

You instantly felt relieved. “Daryl, oh my god.” You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. “You're okay.”

“M'okay,” Daryl replied in a hoarse voice. “Ain't me ya need to worry 'bout. They only drugged me with somethin'. Put a rag up to my mouth tha' made me pass out. They hit ya over the head with a gun. Tha's way worse.”

“I don't think that really matters right now,” you began, a bitter chuckle leaving you. “We need to get out of here.”

“We will,” Daryl confirmed, a sense of sureness in his voice. “I promise I'll get us outta here.”

The vehicle unexpectedly lurched to a stop. You fell back against the metal wall, your head banging against the hard surface, only adding to your already growing pain. You winced and cried out, unwillingly letting a tear slip from your eye.

“Fuck, Y/n!” Daryl called out to you. “I swear, I'll fuckin' kill these—”

Daryl didn't get to finish his threat. The back doors to the vehicle were flung open, the squeaking of the hinges alerting you to that fact. Before you could properly process what was happening, you were abruptly grabbed and pulled out of the vehicle.

You were thrown down to the gravely ground, your captors only doing you one favour, which was to cut the rope that bound your feet together.

You were forced onto your knees, the little rocks painfully digging into your jeans. The sack was ripped off of your head, and you had to shut your eyes against the blinding rays the sun emitted. However, you heard a grunt to your left, making you look over. Your eyes fell on your husband, and you were relieved to note that he didn't seem to have any physical injuries, except for a cut on his cheek.

Daryl looked over to you and his eyes held both worry and anger in them. However, he couldn't say anything, because a man quickly made his presence known.

“Bloody hell, darling,” the man drawled, his British accent thick. “You look like shit. My men really did a number on you.”

You looked up at the man with a glare. You remained silent, eliciting a laugh from the green eyed man. He shook his head and walked over to Daryl, regarding the man with a smirk on his face.

“All you got was a cut?” he tsked. “Your girl over here have to protect you?” He laughed before continuing. “What's your name, soldier?”

Daryl clenched his jaw in anger, his blue eyes glaring daggers at the man who seemed to be in charge. He refused to break, refused to give the man a sliver of anything that could reveal too much about the two of you.

“Not gonna give me a name?” he asked rhetorically. His smirk widened into a wicked smile. “Okay, then allow me to introduce myself instead.” He extended his arms, as if basking in the sunlight. “I'm Liam Davis, head of the Knights. Welcome to Sunny Meadows, and a new, better life for the two of you. That is, if you do your part, of course. We don't take well to freeloaders. No more life on the road for you. We're here to ensure a better tomorrow for all of us.”

You frowned and glanced over at Daryl, meeting his eyes. Both of you were confused beyond belief, but there was one thing you were deathly certain of:

The two of you were in crap ton of trouble.

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littlebigmouse · 10 months

Text

List of Small Things™ I enjoy about Fullmetal Alchemist in no particular order

Everyone in FMAB/manga is just Some Guy™ and very human and I love that so here goes:

Falman getting stuck with a serial-killing suit of armor in his appartment for days and his reaction to it. It may have been weeks. He's been on sick leave the entire time. He's a guy in his early thirties with a flock of early-greying hair because being in a dead-end-role in the military is stressfull, ok. He gets stuck at home with a funny little serial killer (and eventually some foreign body guards, and a foreign prince?? lighting signal fires in his backyard?? like man what a week)

The whole military ambush against the Devil's Nest was yes, kind of kickstarted by the gang kidnapping Al for Greed, but it was mostly kickstarted because Ed was down south to do his yearly official report and Bradley and Armstrong just happened to be present when he was informed Al had gone missing. Greed's entire operation was done in by a teen doing his paperwork

on that note, Greed really decided to spend his immortality wisely by pursuing absolutely none of his supposed ambitions and just decided to settle down with a bunch of buddies. An offshot of the buddies he was initially made to guard, too. I don't think Greed is aware of this either

everyone on that radio building. The radio host 100% down to get some coup-shenanigans into his station to drive engagement. The guys sympathising with Mrs Bradley and taking care of her. Breda taking control of the narrative with a perpetual frown by the skin of his teeth.

I know the story of how the Bradleys met is technically not canon(?) but Mrs Bradley slapping her future husband upon their first meeting because he got his flirting tips from his siblings will never not be funny. Idiots. All of them.

EVERYTHING about Darius and Heinkel. They lost their jobs and became wanted criminals upon helping out some scrawny 15 year old. They have families they miss dearly. They haven't looked back since. "You guys don't HAVE to help me save the world" - "It's not like we have anything better to do"

i was going to say the Ice Cream Truck, because it's iconic, but actually, when told to disguise a vehicle, 15-year-old pinacle of edgelord fashion Edward Elric turned it into a colourful nightmare of spikes that barely resembled a car but might be closely related to the worlds deadliest parade float. None of this was necessary. Ed is just like that.

Hawkeye growing her hair out after meeting Winry, and Winry getting piercings after seeing Hawkeye's

Denny Brosh bursting into tears when he sees Maria Ross is still alive. Dude managed to not quit his job despite working in the same city (department?) where his best friend's killer was his supervisor. They were also very real for showing us that this is a guy who oversleeps and is older brother to at least three younger siblings. There was no need to give us more on Denny Brosh but every little detail hit so hard when they reunited.

okay so remember that time Ed and Ling ate Ed's shoe. Remember that Ed spend some time on a "deserted island" as a kid. Gluttony's stomach had nothing on him. Izumi raised some anime-ass boy-scouts. 100% Farm boy behaviour. These kids are so 15 it makes me want to bite things

immortal, soul-spliced dwarf in a flask got rid of his Sloth and still managed to procrastinate on his world domination plan until the last minute. Most Human disaster.

the entire half-episode they spend on Dr. Knox and his regrets and family. FMA is so good about humanising everyone.

everyone bullied Yoki because he was a small town fraud exploiting workers for his own benefit. Simply a jerk. He also hit Pride with a car in an epic rescue, and cried and screamed the whole way through

that one shot of a kid curiously poking a soldier they found bound on the ground with a stick

(I know it's technically not canon, but-) "I'm trying to save your life, asshole!"

Edward Elric

#fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fmab meta #of course there are more #'it's not like they have a tank or something- fuck'

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coco-loco-nut · 1 month

Text

Book Club - Part 7

Pairing: The Grid x Reader, Lance x Reader

Summary: reader in a crash, book club dads worried af abt her

requests open masterlist

——————

You felt nervous going into Spa, a feeling that you just couldn’t shake. You had talked to Kimi about it and even crashed the Haas garage to talk to your best friends, but nothing could shake the pit as you climbed into the pit as the light rain started. Max looked at you and gave you a thumbs up before getting into his car.

You’ve never done great at Spa, the only reason you are P4 is because of the rocket ship that is you car. That was one lap, this is 44 laps. You release a shaky breath and focus on the lights above you. Not even 10 laps later the pit in your stomach increases due to the increased rainfall. You can’t get rid of the feeling despite your intense concentration on driving.

My tires aren’t going to last much longer, I’m losing grip.

Copy, Y/n, push one more lap then we will bring you in.

By the time you reported the tire conditions you were already mostly through sector three. You resteel yourself and push the car as hard as you could while managing the tires.

It’s when you enter sector two that you panic a little. You are losing grip faster than you thought and have begun fighting the steering.

GUYS SOMETHING IS HAPPENING

Y/n?

Y/n? Are you okay? Y/n!

Your wheels lose grip to the track and send you into the wall. It’s a nasty crash that immediately red flags, the debris across the track plus the rain increasing was enough for the FIA to red flag it. Your head is pounding and your vision a little blurry. Only when your ears stop ringing do you hear the radio.

Fuck, yeah I’m okay

You slur the words and pull yourself out of the car, immediately collapsing when you stand up as everything fades to black.

Lance, slow down, red flag, red flag.

Andrew? Who was that, don’t tell me it was Y/n. Fuck, is my wife ok?

It was her, no word back yet. Nothing over her radio from what we can tell.

Andrew, I need to know. Is. She. Ok.

She just said she was ok over the radio. There is debris across the track, stop the car and a marshall will get you back to the garage.

Shit, that’s bad. Andrew, what are you hiding from me?

Lance stops the car and gets out when it is safe to do so, as indicated by the marshal, but his heart drops when he sees you being put into ambulance.

“Mr Stroll, please let me at least let me get you back to the garage,” the marshal senses that he wants to fun over to the scene. Lance reluctantly goes back to the garage where he immediately pulls out of the race and goes to the hospital where they are taking his wife.

Max, Y/n crashed behind you, red flag.

Shit, is she okay?

No confirmation yet, make your way back to the pit lane.

Max feels his heart drop. He knew how uncomfortable you were going into the race and he would do anything to go back and time and tell her not to race. The red flag ended the race, and every driver had a similar reaction to Max and Lance. Max felt sick that that’s how he won, and he said as much in the post-race interviews. It was visible how much he and the paddock cared about you. Every one of your grid dads, as you affectionately called them when talking to Max, came over to him asking for updates, hoping Max would know more since he was your teammate.

“Lance, take a seat, pacing won’t help,” Kimi tells Lance, equally worried and frustrated at the lack of information as they wait in the hospital. Kimi was already on his way after the phone call this morning, this wasn’t what he expected when he touched down. Half the grid is sitting in the room, their legs bouncing or anxiously conversing.

“Mr. Stroll,” a nurse says, causing the both of them to hop up and walk to the desk.

“Who is Mr. Stroll?” she asks and Lance slightly raises his hand.

“I am, this is her father,” Lance says, the nurse motions for the two of them to follow.

“The doctor is in the private room waiting for you,” she closes the door behind Lance and Kimi.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Janssens. I have a bit of good and bad news. Good news is that Y/n only has a mild concussion, some whiplash, sprained wrist, and a small hairline fracture of the wrist. Bad news is that she’ll be out of racing for at least a month,” both Kimi and Lance cringe at the news.

“That’s all? It was a nasty crash,” Lance asks a bit skeptically, looking at your sleeping figure.

“Based on tests and scans, we have ruled out any head, neck, and back breaks. We have her pain meds, which is why she’s sleeping. She will likely be under observation for another day or two,” the doctor says, trying to relay the information in a delicate manor.

“Thank you,” Kimi dismisses the doctor, a hand resting on your shoulder. He and Lance sit in silence for a minute, gathering feelings and thoughts.

“She looks so peaceful,” Lance says softly, holding his sleeping wife’s hand.

“I’ll give you a moment while I talk to Christian and the drivers. Think about when you want to make a statement. I may hate the media, but you don’t want them to be hounding the hospital,” Kimi says before stepping out. Kimi and Christian quickly come to an agreement about the seat, the later not wanting to lose out on his second driver. The grid takes the news relatively well, but they all know how lucky they were, especially you. Pierre and Charles may have been handling it the worst.

“Kimi, will you look over this statement?” Lance asks, knowing the older man is an expert in saying things vaguely.

All-

We want to thank you for your support following Y/n’s crash. She is currently in the hospital under the care of great doctors. We are thankful that she is okay and look forward to a smooth recovery.

- The Räikkönens and Strolls

“Looks fine to me, I will take care of the outside stuff. You focus on our girl,” Kimi goes into Dad mode, sending the message to Red Bull and Lawrence. He posts the statement first on his account, Red Bull and Lawrence following shortly afterwards. Red Bull edited it slightly to reassure fans that you still had your seat waiting for you.

“Lance? You ask as you wake up, wincing from the pain. The room is dimmer, as to not strain you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he says softly, brushing hair from your eyes.

“Everything hurts,” you groan.

“Going into the wall will do that to you, you got lucky,” Kimi says from beside Lance.

“Dad? What did the doctor say, when can I get back into the car?” your vision slightly blurry as your eyes adjust to being awake.

“You have a concussion, whiplash, wrist sprain, and a hairline fracture. You’ll be out for about a month,” Kimi says, heart aching.

“Some of the guys are here? Want me to bring them in?” Lance asks, doing his best to distract you from the amount of time you will be out.

“Yeah,” you verbally confirm, not able to nod your head due to the neck pain. Lance leaves the room to grab the grid.

“I’m sorry, crashes like this are the worst,” Kimi tells you, clearly still affected by your crash.

“Thanks for being here, you didn’t have to leave everyone for me,” you says softly, thinking about your family back in Finland.

“They want to know that you are ok, and you are still my daughter, of course I will be here,” he replies, his softer side showing.

“I didn’t mean to scare everyone. Robin, Rianna, and Grace weren’t watching, right?” you panic a little, scared for their young minds.

“No, they know you are hurt, but they think it’s just a boo boo,” Kimi reassures you. The grid comes in and sufficiently distracts you, happy to know you’re okay.

You spend the next month in Finland with Kimi and your family, working back to 100%. Kimi takes you karting when you are almost fully recovered, getting you back to normal. Lance visits when he isn’t racing.

“Sissy, why do you have to go?” Robin asks, you tested in F1 cars again and got the green light to race again.

“I have to go drive in circles really really fast, just like Papa used to,” you crouch down to his level. Your sisters equally sad at your departure.

“What if you get a boo boo again?” Rianna asks, and you pause, thinking about how to explain it well.

“Do you stop going to the park even after your fall and get a boo boo there? Sometimes we get hurt, but that’s ok,” you don’t promise that you won’t get hurt, that’s not a promise you can keep. Rianna nods, understanding but sad you aren’t staying.

“Will Lancie come back next time?” Robin asks, not wanting to let you go.

“He will, I’ll be back in a couple weeks, it’ll fly by,” you give you siblings one last hug. Kimi hugs you goodbye as well, he spent the past week going over the track with you and talking about strategies.

When you get to the track, you are stopped by every driver, asking how you are and saying how much they missed you.

“Welcome back,” Fernando greets you when you walk into the club meeting.

“I listened to the audiobook, let’s get this party started,” you smile, happily listening to Lewis and Daniel fight about some symbolism. Your boys pampered you for your return. George brought you coffee from Mercedes, Logan brought you a pastry that he picked up from a bakery. Valtteri gave you some home remedies for your sore muscles that he swore works wonders. Kevin and Nico just hugged you but that was enough for you.

“Max was freaking out, he chewed out the Red Bull team for not pitting you earlier,” Daniel tells you, having filled in for you while you were hurt.

“That’s nice of him,” you smile to yourself. Lewis had also been vocal in interviews about how your crash could’ve been prevented if the race had ended sooner due to the rain.

“Y/n! Have a second?” a reporter asks and you nod.

“See you later, Danny,” you wave goodbye to him and approach the mic.

“Thanks for joining me, I just have a couple quick questions. First off, how are you feeling?”

“I’m really good, a little sore, but itching to get into the car again,” you reply, not giving away more than that regarding your injuries.

“You certainly seemed to scare the grid when you weren’t responding after the crash. How has your welcome back been?” the reporter pushes for more information.

“They’ve been great, they all came to the hospital to visit and have taken great care of me today. I obviously feel bad for scaring them, but they are the best competitors I could ask for,” you smile, before leaving the interview.

“Welcome back, kid,” Max hugs you when you walk into the Red Bull motorhome. You sing Super Max when you see him, having spent the last month listening to the silly songs that have been written for the drivers

“Thanks Maxie. Who is the better teammate, me or Daniel?” you grin, putting the dutchman in a tough spot.

“Daniel, for sure,” Max jokes. Your jaw drops and you turn around, leaving to go to another motorhome. You find yourself in McLaren, singing Let’s Go, Lando, with Lando himself who was happy to join in with your under-the-breath singing. Oscar wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at or murder the two of you.

“What brings you to our home?” Oscar asks once you both stop singing.

“Max said he liked Daniel more than me as a teammate,” you pout, not revealing that you knew he was joking.

“Right, I’m texting Lance,” Oscar shakes his head with a laugh, leaving you and Lando to chat.

“Y/n, love, you just healed, let’s not get hurt by forcing McLaren security to kick you out,” Lance laughs when he sees you and Lando bonding.

“Noooo, we were just becoming friends, she never hands out with drivers that are her age,” Lando whines. You give him an ick face.

“For good reason, you are all icky,” you quickly turn to Lance, “not you, baby,” you smile and turn back to Lando, “why would I hang out with you all and party after races when I can spend time with the older drivers whose company I prefer,” your eyebrow quirks.

“Say what you want, I’ve seen you at our parties. You have more fun than Lance,” Lando grins.

“Alright Lance, let’s go,” you get up, Lance assisting you since you are still a little slow due to the aches still in your muscles. He walks with you hand in hand back to Red Bull where your trainer helps work out your neck muscles and tape your neck and wrist.

“Let us know if you are feeling pain, if you have to pull out of free practice early, pull out. There is no shame if you are hurting,” Christian tells you, before you get to your car.

“I know, I’ll let you know,” you smile, feeling good in the car. After FP1, all of your grid dads found you after weigh ins, checking you over.

“Mi hija, are you okay? Does anything hurt? How is your hand,” Fernando asks, filling his usual position as the overprotective grid dad.

“A little sore, yeah,” you groan as you roll your shoulders.

“Don’t do that, let’s get you to an ice bath, then some heat,” Kevin says. Lance and your trainer don’t bother checking in on you.

“Let’s have a, well what your would call, a girls night. Help you recover,” Lewis suggests. And that’s how you spend the next few nights, in pajamas, with fluffy blankets, alternating cold and heat on your neck, watching movies of books you had read with the club.

“Petition to make this an occurrence each race?” Valtteri proposes at one point, getting eight voices in agreement back. They did a wonderful job of helping you recover, and the encouraging phone calls to Kimi helped you feel more than ready to race when race day approaches.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! GREAT START FROM RÄIKKÖNEN!” The announcer yells into the mic as you gain a few places, toe to toe with Max.

Can I race?

Permission to Race, give em hell, Y/n

You end up winning the race with a 1-2 finish, pulling a Carlos Sainz and Ferrari after his appendix removal. Your first F1 win.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid #george russell #logan sargeant #max verstappen #valtteri bottas #kimi raikkonen #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll #lewis hamilton #nico hulkenberg #kevin magnussen

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golden-afternoon · 1 month

Text

wahhh happy birthday Xiao!!! I wanted to finish writing this which I had sitting in my wips for a while now for his birthday but got really sad when I realized I wouldn't be able to get it done in time. Therefore the ending is suuuuper rushed and the whole thing is a little jank but I wanted to post it still even if it's not perfect. May revisit this later to fix it up a little!

Warnings - gn! reader, Xiao dealing with Xiao thoughts in his not exactly healthy ways, blowjobs n face fucking my favorites 😋, wet dreams, aaand I think that covers it?

Bitter.

Bitter was the taste usually lingering in his mouth. Bitter words waiting behind his lips, bitter bile at the back of his throat at best forgotten memories, bitter disdain as he swallows back his useless desires. The unpleasant flavor remains on his tongue most of the time, having come to accept it was simply another burden of his to bear.

How rare then was such a taste of sweetness?

Xiao swallowed thickly, almost on instinct to get rid of the unfamiliar sweet flavor that had begun to spread across his tongue, flooding his senses. His mouth felt incredibly dry and the action had done little to nothing to sate the urge to remove the offending taste.

So, so sweet.

It was so unbearably sweet, he wasn’t sure he could stand it.

So sweet was the sight before him, he could hardly wrap his head around it. The sight of you. You, there before him gazing up with those sweet, precious eyes of yours. You, so sweetly kneeling before him as though it were the most natural position in the world to be in. You, whose fingers delicately had been tracing along the hem of his pants, gently tugging at the silks that lie around his hips to set the fabric loose.

“What are you doing?”

The words left him, coming out in a low, biting tone, bitterness falling from his tongue with practiced ease. Yet, he made no effort to move away. He, the Vigilant Yaksha, the Conqueror of Demons, the great Alatus, was frozen in place like an animal caught by surprise in a field. His brows furrowed together he stared down at you, both trying to piece together the meaning of your behavior and why he had not moved yet. His heart was beating hard enough in his chest that he could hear the blood rushing around his ears in time with each beat.

Yet even with the sharpness of his words, you remained unfazed, simply smiling up at him with such tenderness, unaware that such a gaze made that sweet flavor flood across his tongue again, much to his growing unease. “You may try to lie to yourself Xiao, but it's clear as day to me that you need to spend some time relaxing.”

Even your voice was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. It made his stomach churn. No, not churn. That's not the right word. It was a lighter sensation than that. Almost… pleasant, even as it made him almost feel sick. A feeling slowly becoming more and more familiar to him the more time he had spent around you.

The adeptus was ripped from his hazy reverie as the gentle clink of metal hit the floor, followed almost immediately by those nimble fingers brushing against his hips as they gently began to pull down the last bit of fabric separating his shame from your eyes. His hands twitched with the impulse to shove you away, bitter guilt bordering on panic rising in his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He swallowed again, his mouth just as dry as before as his golden eyes sharply watched every movement you made.

“What are you doing to me?” He asked, his normally cool and indifferent tone sinking into a slightly uneven rasp, shamefully hinting at how much you were affecting him.

Xiao felt heat wash over his face as a sweet laugh left your lips, leaving his question unanswered in favor of lowering the dark fabric further and further until his aching cock sprung free of its confines. A gloved hand instinctively lifted to his mouth to suppress the noise that came from him at the feeling, and even worse, the sight of your eyes being locked onto his already achingly hard shaft with such keen interest and fascination. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve been certain you were trying to kill him, what with how his heart was beating so hard it felt like it could burst at any moment. He ripped his eyes away from the painfully sweet sight, that strange flavor spreading across his tongue once more as saliva pooled in his mouth.

This was wrong. This shouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t be allowing this in the first place! If he allowed you to do this, then all it would serve to do was hurt you in the end, he had no right to be so selfish-

A hitching gasp was ripped from his chest as he felt the softest sensation brush against the head of his cock. Sharp eyes immediately came right back to look down at you, his pupils dilating as he sees you with your lips still pressed to the tender, flushed skin in such a gentle little kiss. His dick twitched from the sweet sight, the motion making his sensitive skin lift away from those soft lips, giving him a brief moment of reprieve before it rested back into place, tapping against your mouth and effectively smearing a bit of the liquid leaking from him on those pretty lips, giving him such a shamefully lewd view that it drew a groan from him, unable to be muffled by his gloved hand.

Seeming to be encouraged by his reaction, he watched as your lips parted, that pretty pink tongue sliding out to lick up the mess he had left behind. A growled curse left him as he felt the sinful desires he’d been fending off came crashing in on him, nearly making his knees buckle under the weight of it. A soft hum of pleasure left your lips, seemingly enjoying his no doubt bitter taste. Surely that was just for show, he immediately assumed, slowly lowering his hand from his blushing face, only to instantaneously be proven wrong by your hands sliding onto his thighs for support as you leaned closer, drawing your warm tongue along his part of his length, lingering at the top to collect the rest of the clear fluid that had leaked out.

His restraint was wearing thin as the hand that had just been on his face now found itself settled on the back of your head, his gloved fingers curling loosely into your hair. Xiao remained silent for a moment, his face caught in a strained expression as he looked down at you, his golden eyes studying you with an intensity that he has found himself unable to hide any longer.

Your name left his lips quietly, the rasp of his voice barely audible above the steady rain coming down outside the open window. He began to card his fingers through your hair before managing his next words. “Do you really want to do this? If you keep going as you are, I may not be able to stop myself.” He warned in that same tone, wishing he had been able to speak louder, but he knew that if he had, it would have only made his voice waver.

Those sweet eyes stayed locked onto his as you processed the question, answering him with a smile and a playful little kiss to his head once more. “Then don’t stop yourself.”

Before he could have much time to comprehend those words, Xiao found himself curling his fingers into your hair with a grunt, nearly becoming winded from the feeling of his cock slowly be enveloped into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. Its not the first time in his long existence that he has experienced such intimate pleasures, but certainly it had been a very, very long time since he had even considered indulging himself in things like this. He’d spent so much of his time convincing himself he held no such desires, but here you were breaking down every wall he’d built with such ease.

Another growling curse left him as he felt his tip hit the back of your mouth, having brought a muffled little gagging noise to his ears. He shivered as the reflex simply made your throat tighten for a moment around the portion of him that had pressed towards your throat. That was enough to make him crack.

He adjusted his hold on your hair, curling his fingers in to maintain a firm, almost painful grip before he began to move, teeth sinking into his lip as he began to shift his hips. Vibrations from the sweet little yelp of surprise ran through his cock, only fueling him further in his aching need. Holding your head in place he couldn’t stop himself from dragging himself in and out along your tongue. Archons, you felt perfect. You let your jaw slack slightly to keep yourself from scraping your teeth along his shaft, encouraging him even more. His other hand, trembling slightly from it all, lifted to your flushed face, gently brushing aside and tucking away some loose hair that had fallen across your forehead, his pace never slowing down as those fingers join his other hand in holding you in place so he can keep you steady.

It was no longer a question of desire for him. He needed you. He needed you now more than ever and he had reached a point where he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He began to push deeper, nudging his dripping head against the back of your mouth again, trying to gain purchase into your throat, but you couldn’t help but gag on his size. He frowned slightly, his eyes locked onto your dazed expression, lips sealed around as much of him as you thought you could take. A quiet grunt, followed by his lowered voice offering soothing words in the best way he could think to. “You can take it. Come on.”

Not the most reassuring thing to say, especially when this was immediately followed by his hands manually adjusting the angle of your head and simply shoving his shaft against your throat again, causing tears to well in those pretty eyes of yours as you gag on it again. Bitter guilt climbs the back of his own throat at the sight, but then he realized that you weren’t backing away at all. If anything, it seemed like you were trying to reach the same goal. Hands on his thighs to steady yourself, lips staying perfectly wrapped around his size, and even more, you kept trying to press closer, clearly seeing what he wanted and trying desperately to help him get there.

He breathed out another curse, the word faltering slightly as it rasped out, his hands grasping harder onto your head as he picked up his pace, thrusting harder and harder, fucking into your face until with one slick motion, he pushed past at last, your muscles loosening enough to allow himself to bury himself deep within your throat. Your nose pressed against his skin as he held you there for a moment, savoring the sweet feeling of you taking him in his entirety.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, the sound coming out like a hiss through bared teeth. This… this isn't right. So tight and slick around him, this amount of pleasure shouldn't be granted to someone like him. For a moment, even in his daze of pleasure, Xiao seriously considered pulling out, having become overwhelmed by it all, but then, he saw your eyes. Those pretty eyes that have haunted him far more than he cared to admit were now looking up at him in a way that made his heart nearly stop. Such a soft, overwhelmingly sweet gaze up at him through those long lashes of yours contrasted to the sinful sight of your nose bumping against his body, lips stretched around his aching length. All other thoughts immediately left his mind as he stared down at you with lips parted in awe. He may not deserve even a scrap of this amount of pleasure, but who was he to deny you whose eyes looked so positively needy. Gritting his teeth, he curled his fingers more into your hair, drawing a whine of slight pain from you, the sound almost entirely disappearing into his cock as he began to move again, fully intending to be slow and sweet, but perhaps rough desperation was just better suited to his natural bitter nature.

Gloved hands holding you in place he picked up speed, the slick sounds of your mouth and throat being used mingled with the sound of the rain, all of it rushing around to his ears and making his mind melt even more. Archons, he's not even sure how much longer he can last like this. He can see on your face that you're struggling to keep holding your breath but you keep letting him going, not pushing away in the slightest. The feeling of your thumbs lightly digging into his skin as you clung to him for support was nearly enough to send him over the edge.

He nearly growled out his words, wanting to at least warn you, “I think…. ah…. I think I'm at my limit…”

Xiao watched as those long lashes fluttered shut at his words, that sweet gaze disappearing in favor of close eyed focus and fervor, seeming to struggle to do your best to keep going, to hold on as long as you can to bring him over the edge. It drove him insane.

“Xiao!”

He was so lost in the sweet sensation, so close to the edge, he almost didn't hear the voice over the sound of the rain and the slick noises from below and-

“Adeptus Xiao!”

Xiao bolted upright in an instant, panting from the adrenaline as he struggled to gain his bearings, the sound of his blood rushing around his ears mingling with the gentle rain outside making his head spin.

He was… alone. And now rather uncomfortable in the sticky aftermath. Bitter guilt spread across his tongue and gripped at his heart, shaking hands reaching up to grab fistfuls of his own hair in frustration. How could he even think about you like that? Sure he was unconscious but he had absolutely no right to defile your sweet visage with something so selfish and wrong. He had no need for such desires. None whatsoever.

But he could hardly even convince himself of that when he realized it was your voice calling his name from the other side of his door, making him wonder with an ache deep in his chest if this was that bittersweet dream manifesting itself before him.

#sunny originals #a little bit of spice #genshin posting #xiao #xiao smut #xiao x reader #gwah i love him he wanted to come home to me so bad he arrived in the singular pull I had alloted for him #posting this before i get too nervous to

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blayresmuses · 2 years

Note

idk if you take fic requests but imo a one-shot where the reader rides daemon targaryen would be neat- 😳👉👈

the beds getting cold

summary: daemon has been leaving you lonely but he always manages to make it up to you.

warnings: unprotected sex, pure smut really

you woke up alone, just like you had for the past fortnight. you were sick of the disappointment that flooded your stomach at the feel of the cold sheets, the sight of your lonely bedchamber.

your husband daemon had been anointed commander of the city watch. he’d been pouring all his attention into recruiting gold cloaks, training with them before taking to the streets beside them at night to rid the city of the criminals that plagued it. you loved that he was so passionate about it, that he finally had been given a job he had genuine devotion to but the loneliness that had began to pick away at you was bearing you down.

you ached for his touch, to see the hunger in his eyes when he had you laid out before him. you missed feeling wanted and the affection he doted on you. frustrated, you huffed out a breath and rubbed your thighs together, desperate for any sort of relief you could get. you kicked at the sheets, your skin already burning hot without them. you pondered touching yourself but rendered it useless, knowing that your own touch would never compare to his.

accepting that you wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep, you rose from the bed with the intention of getting a drink. the chambers were deathly quiet as you padded through them, the floor cold beneath your bare feet. again and again you thought of daemon, you found it impossible not to when the smell of him clouded the very rooms you were in. that fire that was burning inside of you dimmed, the neglect you felt was a wave that quenched the flames.

once you entered into the main room you made for the jug of wine that sat atop the table but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw your husband sitting there already. ‘daemon,’ you breathed, your heart already soaring at the sight of him.

he gave you a weary smile before drinking from his cup. he was shirtless, his thighs spread wide in his chair as he relaxed. you tried not to focus on them, of what it would feel like with them pressed up against you. ‘I wasn’t expecting you home, husband.’

daemon grinned, you were ever the dutiful wife. standing there in your nightdress with your muddled hair and flushed cheeks. he could practically see the desire radiating off of your skin. ‘i missed you.’

the answer had you moving towards him and you found a place between daemons legs, immediately beginning to play with his hair in the way that relaxed him. ‘i have missed you too,’ you admitted, unable to hide the hitch in your breathing when he slid his hands up the backs of your legs, settling just under your bum.

‘show me, darling,’ he urged. he wanted to see you take what you wanted, take him as you wanted. you were always so cautious, so eager to please and do whatever he urged you to but this time, he was tired, worn down but nothing would stop him from having you, from being inside that warm heat of yours.

his cock was already hard, you could see it through his trousers and that fact alone filled you with a confidence you hadn’t had before. daemon let out a groan as you slowly climbed onto his lap, watching your breasts move with the movement, your nipples hardened and just waiting for him to touch.

‘so obedient,’ daemon cooed, the tone turning your insides to mush. the both of you groaned simultaneously when he slid his fingers under your dress and against your cunt, finding you bare and so wet you could hear it as he pushed a finger inside of you. ‘you’re drenched. i haven’t even touched you yet and you’re falling apart already.’

you were frantic, your hips rutted against that finger but it wasn’t enough. your brain had gone dumb and you couldn’t think of anything other than having him inside you. your hands were everywhere, his shoulders, in his hair, pulling down when he hit that particular spot inside you. daemon couldn’t help but chuckle when you began unlacing his trousers, an impatient huff leaving your pouted lips.

it wasn’t long before you were pulling him out, lips parting as they usually did at the sheer size of him. daemon took his finger back only to slide the digit into his mouth, his eyes falling closed at the taste. he’d been with so many women in his life but he considered himself lucky to have you, to have someone so perfect for him. you took the opportunity to take his length in your hand, selfishly sliding the head against your clit a few times.

daemon hissed, hiking your dress up around your hips so he could watch as he slid against you, getting covered in your slick. one hand took your hip, feeling the softer skin there until he couldn’t take it anymore, daemons head fell back against the chair as his fingers pinched, urging you to take him, to give him what he wanted, what you so clearly wanted.

so you did, slowly at first, not used to this position. you whined as he bottomed out inside you, stretching you out, making you feel so utterly full of him. this was what you’d missed, the intimacy of your shared breaths against each other, the blunt scape of his nails against your thighs as you found an unsteady pace.

daemon couldn’t take his eyes off of where you connected, no matter how unsure you were or how slow you were moving, your thighs starting to burn already. you were determined however, chasing your own climax just as much as wanting his and when you saw him losing control, his hips bucking up into you it only made you try harder.

you got more stable on his lap, digging your fingers in to the clammy skin of daemons shoulders. you went faster, harder with every drop down. the chamber was flooded with the noises of skin on skin, of your shared moans. sweat had gathered at your hairline, daemon saw and your cheeks were blushed red. it was indescribable the way you made him feel, how special he found you to be, not that he’d ever admit to it.

wanting to have some semblance of control, daemon took your hips in his hands, using the firm grip to push you down and keep you there. so warm, wet, you were dripping down him. his stomach clenched as you pulsed around him, drawing him closer. his own hips took over, grinding up into you so slowly you let out a bratty, agitated huff. ‘patience, sweet girl,’ daemon tutted mischievously. your nails scratched down the pale skin of his chest in retaliation until the head of his cock nudged the spot deep inside of you that made you see stars, that turned you so pliant in his arms.

you fell forward into his arms, your hips stuttering against his as you hid your head in his shoulder. daemon gave the rhythm back to you, letting you bounce on him however you pleased. he felt so content, hearing your breathy signs in his ear. his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles onto the sensitive flesh there until you were barely moving against him, every single part of you shaking in pleasure.

it didn’t take long for you to come apart around him, biting down on his shoulder to not cry out. daemon held on, not giving in to the way you were clenching around him, trying to milk him for everything he had. your bite turned to kisses, so sweet after you’d got what you wanted. when you looked at him, your eyes were filled with something that looked like disappointment when you realised he was still hard inside you. ‘weren’t you pleased?’ you whispered.

‘more than,’ daemon murmured, running his nose along your jaw and taking your earlobe between his teeth. ‘but i have much to make up for don’t you think? can you keep going or shall i take over?’

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon fic

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