#i like to imagine this thing makes a low airy humming sound when he has the arrow drawn back. energy building up waiting to be released | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loolingz · 3 months

Text

soft phone sex with gojo, might be a little ooc, 1.2k words <3 looli revival!!

“are you alone?”

when the conversations start like this so late in the night, you know what’s about to happen. still, it does manage to cut you off guard- even just a little bit. so you weren’t able to hide the hitch in your breath very well. just like he wasn’t able to hide the low, low chuckle that followed immediately after your quiet admission of guilt. you know him too well. and he, you.

“maybe” you draw out, voice light and airy and playful as you respond into the phone. he laughs again at your attempt to play coy because you both know what you’re doing. it’s the same thing every single time. you both know that you’re taking the phone and the line and sitting on the edge of your shared bed- the one that always feels so empty and cold when he has to stay away from home for a night or two. you both know that right now, you’re listening very, very carefully for the pitter-patter of tiny feet or the quiet creaking of the bedroom, hoping you don’t have any uninvited young guest scampering around past their bedtime. “are you alone?”

and you both know that you’re now lifting up the edges of your nightgown and slipping your panties down to your ankles now that you know that the coast is clear and your husband’s loving voice is purring in your ear.

“you know I am, sweetheart .” he hums at the sound of your sultry voice and the call of his title in such a lewd manner. and you’re almost too ashamed to admit just how turned on a few words make you. but you can’t help it. it hasn’t even been that long yet, and you already miss him. your body- the parts now being uncovered in the chilly air of your bedroom longs for his touch. goosebumps are already littering your skin and your nipples are perking up and pebbling. almost as if he was here, right beside you. ready to keep you warm, and safe, and most of all? “are you touching yourself for me?”

keeping you loved.

you smile into the phone as you opt not to rely at first. instead, you decide to lie back on the bed. letting the familiar smell of his side of the comforter surround you as your body makes contact. the phone line tugs and stretches a little bit as you bring it with you. but you’re able to bring it up to your ear and tuck it in your shoulder all nice and snug without too much trouble. And with you let yourself get comfortable. hiking up your legs and placing your feet flat on top of the bed. drawing up your nightgown even further. and resting your hand in the valley between your breasts and letting your hands move around on their own. touching your breasts. brushing your fingers against your skin. like you wish he could. like you know he would. if only he was here. if only, if only.

“maybe I am, ” You say into the phone, repeating the same sing-songy tone that you had on earlier as your smile grows just a teensy bit more. “maybe I’m not.”

almost instantly, you hear a sigh. on the other side of the phone, you know gojo is getting a little impatient with you. you don’t blame him too. you know how hard he trains. and you can imagine just how long of a day he’s had. barking orders at those who never seem to listen. the training he endures that never seems to end. and so many more things that you know you’re not privy to, especially after his climb in the ranks. but you can’t help it. you just can’t help it. he left you alone here. alone on the bed. alone, alone, alone with only his voice to comfort you.

so of course you were going to give a little tease. just a little one, at least. because it’s only natural. because it’s only fair. because he’s doing it to you right now.

just letting you hear the sound of his voice and not the warmth of his hands.

“sweetheart, ” he calls out to you through the phone, voice strained and breathing a little tighter than before. out of instinct, you find yourself licking at your lips and biting them as the hand on your chest slowly travels down, and down, and down. you know the sounds that follow after all too well. the rustling of clothes. the quiet clinking of metal. the soft groans. it’s telling. too telling. the hidden neediness in his voice. the subtle way he begs with just the call of a nickname. your nickname. it’s telling. because you know him just as well as he knows you. “i need you to touch yourself for me. please .”

because you know him.

and because you know him so well, you know that he’s gotten started without you. you can just tell. he has already gotten started without you. maybe it was while the phone was ringing. maybe it was while you were still talking- still teasing him. maybe it was even before he decided to call you. But you can just tell . that he’s already pulled down his trousers. that he’s already pulled out free his cock. and that the sounds you heard were him freeing himself even further from the confines of his clothesand his determination to be the best striker. because more than his resolve, he wants you. he needs you. he misses you. as much as you feel all those same things for him.

and suddenly you don’t want to be a tease. suddenly you don’t want to make a big show about touching every part of your body except that he wants you to- that you need to- the most. suddenly you realize that you just want what you wanted all along.

him.

“I am…” you tell him in a rush, just as your fingers find some of the wetness pooling in between your legs. you swipe it- coating some of your fingers tips with your own arousal and go immediately for your clit. you draw a sharp breath, feeling your own sense of neediness crop up now that you’re touching the most sensitive part of your body. but you don’t want to stop there. so you don’t. you reach out your other hand and take a fistful of one of your boobs. grip firm and tight like the way satoru does to you. you squeeze at it before moving your fingers along to play with your nipples. pinching them and rolling them so carefully between two fingers that it starts getting your hips shifting and your voice rising in a way that you imagine is unbefitting of a young woman. but you don’t care anymore. you don’t. because right now? you just want to close your eyes. you just want to block all sound. but most of all? “ I am, toru…I’m touching myself….all for you .”

you just want to focus on him.

“all for me, sweetheart?”

because maybe if you focus hard enough. maybe if you imagine hard enough.

“a-all of you.”

if you wish hard enough.

“there’s my good girl. ”

then maybe the warmth you’re feeling now will start to feel it does when he’s the one touching you.

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manias-wordcount · 6 months

Text

One Call Away (Roy Mustang)

Kinktober 2023 Day Twenty-Three: Phone Sex

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

“Are you alone?”

When the conversations start like this so late in the night, you know what’s about to happen. Still, it does manage to cut you off guard- even just a little bit. So you weren’t able to hide the hitch in your breath very well. Just like he wasn’t able to hide the low, low chuckle that followed immediately after your quiet admission of guilt. You know him too well. And he, you.

“Maybe~” You draw out, voice light and airy and playful as you respond into the phone. He laughs again at your attempt to play coy because you both know what you’re doing. It’s the same thing every single time. You both know that you’re taking the phone and the line and sitting on the edge of your shared bed- the one that always feels so empty and cold when he has to stay away from home for a night or two. You both know that right now, you’re listening very, very carefully for the pitter-patter of tiny feet or the quiet creaking of the bedroom, hoping you don’t have any uninvited young guest scampering around past their bedtime. “Are you alone, General Mustang~?”

And you both know that you’re now lifting up the edges of your nightgown and slipping your panties down to your ankles now that you know that the coast is clear and your husband’s loving voice is purring in your ear.

“You know I am, sweetheart.” He hums at the sound of your sultry voice and the call of his title in such a lewd matter. And you’re almost too ashamed to admit just how turned on a few words make you. But you can’t help it. It hasn’t even been that long yet, and you already miss him. Your body- the parts now being uncovered in the chilly air of your bedroom longs for his touch. Goosebumps are already littering your skin and your nipples are perking up and pebbling. Almost as if he was here, right beside you. Ready to keep you warm, and safe, and most of all? “Are you touching yourself for me?”

Keeping you loved.

You smile into the phone as you opt not to rely at first. Instead, you decide to lie back on the bed. Letting the familiar smell of his side of the comforter surround you as your body makes contact. The phone line tugs and stretches a little bit as you bring it with you. But you’re able to bring it up to your ear and tuck it in your shoulder all nice and snug without too much trouble. And with you let yourself get comfortable. Hiking up your legs and placing your feet flat on top of the bed. Drawing up your nightgown even further. And resting your hand in the valley between your breasts and letting your hands move around on their own. Touching your breasts. Brushing your fingers against your skin. Like you wish he could. Like you know he would. If only he was here. If only, if only.

“Maybe I am,” You say into the phone, repeating the same sing-songy tone that you had on earlier as your smile grows just a teensy bit more. “Maybe I’m not~”

Almost instantly, you hear a sigh. On the other side of the phone, you know Roy is getting a little impatient with you. You don’t blame him too. You know how hard he works. And you can imagine just how long of a day he’s had. Barking orders at those who never seem to listen. The piles and piles of paperwork that never seem to end. And so many more things that you know you’re not privy to, especially after his climb in the ranks. But you can’t help it. You just can’t help it. He left you alone here. Alone with the kids. Alone on the bed. Alone, alone, alone with only his voice to comfort you.

So of course you were going to give a little tease. Just a little one, at least. Because it’s only natural. Because it’s only fair. Because he’s doing it to you right now.

Just letting you hear the sound of his voice and not the warmth of his hands.

“Sweetheart,” He calls out to you through the phone, voice strained and breathing a little tighter than before. Out of instinct, you find yourself licking at your lips and biting them as the hand on your chest slowly travels down, and down, and down. You know the sounds that follow after all too well. The rustling of clothes. The quiet clinking of metal. The soft groans. It’s telling. Too telling. The hidden neediness in his voice. The subtle way he begs with just the call of a nickname. Your nickname. It’s telling. Because you know him just as well as he knows you. “I need you to touch yourself for me. Please.”

Because you know him.

And because you know him so well, you know that he’s gotten started without you. You can just tell. He has already gotten started without you. Maybe it was while the phone was ringing. Maybe it was while you were still talking- still teasing him. Maybe it was even before he decided to call you. But you can just tell. That he’s already pulled down his trousers. That he’s already pulled out free his cock. And that the sounds you heard were him freeing himself even further from the confines of his work and his uniform and his service to his country. Because more than his sense of duty, he wants you. He needs you. He misses you. As much as you feel all those same things for him.

And suddenly you don’t want to be a tease. Suddenly you don’t want to make a big show about touching every part of your body except that he wants you to- that you need to- the most. Suddenly you realize that you just want what you wanted all along.

Him.

“I am…” You tell him in a rush, just as your fingers find some of the wetness pooling in between your legs. You swipe it- coating some of your fingers tips with your own arousal and go immediately for your clit. You draw a sharp breath, feeling your own sense of neediness crop up now that you’re touching the most sensitive part of your body. But you don’t want to stop there. So you don’t. You reach out your other hand and take a fistful of one of your boobs. Grip firm and tight like the way Roy does to you. You squeeze at it before moving your fingers along to play with your nipples. Pinching them and rolling them so carefully between two fingers that it starts getting your hips shifting and your voice rising in a way that you imagine is unbefitting of a young woman, a young mom, and hell- a general’s wife. But you don’t care anymore. You don’t. Because right now? You just want to close your eyes. You just want to block all sound. But most of all? “I am, Roy…I’m touching myself….all for you.”

You just want to focus on him.

“All for me, sweetheart?”

Because maybe if you focus hard enough. Maybe if you imagine hard enough.

“A-all of you, Roy.”

If you wish hard enough.

“There’s my good girl.”

Then maybe the warmth you’re feeling now will start to feel it does when he’s the one touching you.

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kissesforsatoru · 2 years

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Could you write another domestic! yan fyodor x wife! darling nsfw scenario?

𓏲 ˖. pairings. . . fyodor x fem!reader

𓏲 ˖. summary. . . more domestic! yan fyodor

𓏲 ˖. warnings. . . general yandere themes, nsfw, brief degradation

𓏲 ˖. notes. . . the end is kinda sloppy, but i can’t think of any other way to finish it i’m sorry 😭

fyodor expected this. he expected you to be cooking or cleaning when he got home, because that’s what you’re usually doing when he does. but, what he didn’t expect was for his cute little wife to be bent over the table in only a shirt and underwear, leaving precious little to his imagination. and usually he’s a man with a lot of self control, but when you’re here, practically on fucking display for him, he just can’t help but want to be greedy.

a low curse leaves his lips as he feels his pants tighten around his waist uncomfortably. his eyes are locked on you as you wiggle your body along with your arm that haphazardly wipes the table down, which only makes the situation in his pants worse.

you’re so unaware of your surroundings, unaware of the way your husbands eyes wander your body with an almost feral and hungry gaze. he watches as you innocently reach further up the table, jumping a little while making a cute little moan-like sound as you try to clean an area you can’t reach. and he has to wonder how you can be so lewd while doing such mundane things like cleaning, because you aren’t even doing it on purpose.

maybe it was his rapacious attraction towards you, or the clothes you had on, or even the way you’re wiggling your hips as if asking him to come and take you—it doesn’t really matter, because he’s going to fuck you senseless either way.

it comes as a complete surprise to you when he comes up behind you and presses himself against your ass, grinding softly as he holds your hips. you gasp quietly, turning around to see your husband who you weren’t aware was home. he leaned down, nuzzling into your neck to place soft kisses on your skin. you brace yourself against the table as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him to kiss you more freely.

“mn, welcome home.” you mutter, voice airy. he hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t say anything—instead keeping his attention on your neck.

you moan quietly as he guided your hips with his own, rubbing his erection lightly against your fluttering pussy. a shiver runs through your body when you feel his cold fingers ghost across your skin, trailing up and down. one of his hands pushes underneath your shirt to knead your plush tummy, while the other is wrapped around your waist and placed on your thigh.

“you’re so naughty,” he whispers against you, breath hotly fanning your tingling skin. “wearing such revealing clothes like a little slut.” you close your eyes and take a shaky deep breath as you feel wetness begin to pool in your panties from his words. your faces heats up in embarrassment when you realize he can feel how needy you are right now, his hand pressed right up to your soaking cunt.

“you’re practically begging me to fuck you” he continues. “is that what you want?” his tone drips with amusement. you can’t help but whine helplessly, frustrated that he even had to ask when it was so obvious—of course that’s what you want, and you know he knows it.

“yes please.” you whine in embarrassment while looking at him with a pitiful expression. you can you feel your face grow hotter when he huffs out a quite laugh at your meekness.

“yes please what?” he asks expectantly. “say it.” he practically growls while roughly grinding into your ass, eliciting a choked moan from your quivering lips. the force might’ve caused you to fall weakly into the table if he wasn’t holding you to him so tightly.

“please fuck me!” you cry in desperation as you try wiggling your hips to create more friction between you two. you hear him hum a quick ‘good girl’ before turning you around to push you up onto the table. he takes of your panties quickly before spreading your legs to reveal your glistening pussy.

when he takes off his pants and his big cock springs out, your whole body heats up and tingles in anticipation. you almost moan at the sight of him, but you bite your lip to keep it in. he smirks as he grips your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the table so he can press himself firmly against you.

“f–fuck,” you shiver, closing your eyes as he slowly begins to push into you. he wraps one arm around you, pulling you into his body to place more kisses on your neck, to which you close your eyes and make a small noise.

“you’re such a good little wife for me, ready to take my cock whenever.” he whispers before he starts thrusting steadily. “i trained you so well.”

#[niko requests 🐰]#yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere bsd #yandere thoughts #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd anime #yandere fyodor x reader #yandere fyodor x you #yandere fyodor x y/n #yandere fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #dead dove do not eat

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

Luminescence - Armin Arlert x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Season 3 & kinda 4 spoilers

Requested by Anonomys:

Hello,I hope you have a beautiful day! Could you please make an imagine of Armin and his s/o (either fem or g/n,whatever is more comfortable for you to write) about their night routine when they go to the sea and just relax in each other's presence?(everyone has already seen the sea for the first time) soft armin hours 24/7😭

I have been FEELING the Armin feels so much recently. This little blonde boy has just captured my heart. I hope you like it, I had so much fun writing it!

Word Count: 1.6K In and out the tide would go. All day, never ceasing, the ocean would move in and out in a steady rhythm. Sometimes the waves would be a little more rough or even shallow, but they would ebb and flow all the same. It became a comfort for you ever since the Scout Regiment had built the new headquarters by the ocean. There was always a buzz throughout the buildings; Eren doing this, the Marleyeans saying that. It all grew so effortlessly tiresome that by the end of the day you were fatigued, your shoulders were aching, and your head longed to be nestled into a soft feathered pillow. There was one thing, however, that you allowed to capture your attention rather than allow your brain to turn off and sleep. Armin Arlert. With his newly cut blonde hair and his mind brimming with knowledge, he had managed to weave his way into your heart and invade your senses, bringing with him all the things you never thought you could hold dear.

“Y/N, you’re free to go. Just take that paperwork back with you and have that analysis done by tomorrow.” The recently appointed Commander Hange tells you, flashing a quick smile before sweeping up her own materials. Across from you Captain Levi had already stood up from his chair and was making his way out. Finally Jean, who was seated to your right, huffed a sigh.

“Preparations are never gonna end are they,” He laments, pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose. You give him a pity smile and pat his shoulder.

“Not until Hange and Levi think that they’re good enough.” Jean rolls his eyes and stands from his chair, stretching his arms out.

“Alright, well, I’m outta here. See ya tomorrow.” He sighs. You wave your hand in farewell and gather the several papers and briefings into your arms and drag yourself out of the little conference room. You groaned as you felt your several aching limbs weighing you down and the pounding in your head. Making plans for the invasion of Marley were no joke and surely took a toll on your brain. In a decent amount of time, you make your way to the beach huts where you found Armin waiting your steps, his nose buried in a book. A light smile spreads across your face.

“How was your day?” You asked, causing the blonde to close his book and jog over to your side.

“About the same as yesterday. You?” He says softly, taking your hand in his and walking the both of you into the little hut. You simply hum and lean a bit more into Armin’s side, which told him basically everything he needed to know. You were tired, your brain was fried, and you wanted his company. With a content grin, he placed a kiss to the top of your head and had you sit on one of the chairs in the small living room. “How about I grab some dinner while you shower? I’m sure Niccolo won’t mind if I take a couple of plates from the dining hall so we can just eat here.” He suggests. His proposition practically makes your heart sing at the thought of having a quiet meal, just the two of you.

“I’d love that,” you say earnestly, placing your paperwork on the low table in front of you. “And even if Niccolo won’t be happy about it, he’ll be too distracted by Sasha to notice.” You quip, earning a laugh from Armin.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

The shower you took was heavenly. Since everyone was having dinner, you had first dibs on the hot water and you basked in it. Your body smelled of a light lavender, every bit of grime was wiped off of your body, and even your hair was washed. The change of your clothes also helped to brighten your mood. Gone was the white button up and cargo jacket - you were all comfy in the light and airy sleepwear. The soft fabric seemed to kiss your skin in such a sweet way that you felt you could fall asleep right then and there. But, the savory smell of freshly cooked seafood worked its way into your senses causing your eyes to snap open.

“Dinner!” Armin called. You rushed your way towards him, and more importantly the food, in excitement.

“Looks yummy.” You say, helping him set down the trays of food and laying out the utensils. Dinner was a little quiet, since both of you were super hungry and dinner tasted fantastic.

“I read something rather curious,” Armin says, instantly gaining your full attention. He was always finding something new every time he read a book. Whether it was the genetic property of a fig leaf or certain characteristics of different types of rocks, you always found it interesting to hear.

“Do tell,” you urge, using your fork to bring the last little morsel of food into your mouth.

“It’s a sort of natural phenomenon called bioluminescence. Unlike a shooting star, though, it’s actually caused by microorganisms that light up when agitated.” You pause a bit when you hear his explanation, confusion flickering across your face.

“They light up?” You wonder. Armin nods to you in response. “But whenever we’ve been outside and in the ocean, I’ve never noticed anything lighting up.” Armin takes your response into consideration and leans back in his chair a bit. It takes a minute for his brain to connect all of the dots, trying to think of why no one has ever seen anything that was somewhat supernatural in the water before. Then, like a lightbulb going off in your head, you stand up suddenly causing Armin to jump a bit. “Because it was daytime!” You conclude, grabbing hold of Armin’s hand and ushering him out of the door. Neither of you bothered to slip your shoes on beforehand, so your bare feet met the somewhat chilled sand.

“I don’t even know if these kinds of organisms are native to our area though,” He says warily, squeezing your hand.

“It doesn’t hurt to look!” You say cheerily, all of the former exhaustion leaking from your body as the cool ocean breeze swished your clothes and hair. Finally, the two of you made it to the shoreline. The waves were constant as ever and reached just before your toes before pulling back. “You said they lit up when they were agitated, right?” You ask, looking to Armin who was standing by your side.

“Yeah,” he says as he rolls up his pants so they don’t get wet, “so any touch from us should make them glow.” With a deep breath and a cautious expression, you extend one of your feet over the water and very slowly let it sink into the water.

It was as if your touch was magical. The second your foot met the water, a bright blue light surrounded it. A gasp left your lips, immediately followed by a smile as you let your other foot go into the water, causing the space surrounding it to glow even more. You looked back to Armin who was currently marveling at the discovery, and he quickly joined you in the water. The deeper you got the more the water lit up. The light blue reflected across your faces, shading them in an azure hue.

“Armin…” You murmur, breathless at the sight, “it’s beautiful.” Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulls you into his side. In front of you, he lets his hand fall into the ocean and drags it along, the water behind it leaving a brightly-lit path. “What was this called again?” You ask, looking up to his awestruck expression.

“Bio, uh, Bioluminescence,” He says, hesitant as he’s taking everything in. Finally, he looks back up to you and smiles widely. “Think of everything else that the ocean can hold.” He gushes. As you look at him and his infectious grin, only one adjective comes to mind. Delectable. You move your lips closer to his as you tug his collar down, bringing with it his head. He gets the message quickly. He raises his hand, now wet with seawater, to your cheek, his thumb swiping across your lips. You had no idea where he had gotten so confident - Armin was a gentle lover. Usually he preferred to cuddle rather than to engage in a makeout session and favored forehead kisses. Maybe he had seen someone do that or read it in a book, but you didn’t care - it made your heart race. His lips met yours passionately, wrapping both of his arms around your waist tightly and pressing you as close as possible to his chest.

“When this is all over,” Armin says breathlessly, then going back for a second kiss. “When this war is done.” Another kiss. “Let’s live on the beach. We can discover everything this great blue abyss has to offer.” One final kiss. You lean into his body as he embraces you, situating his chin on top of your head.

“That sounds lovely,” you hum, nestling your head into where his arm and torso meet. The two of you stay like this for a moment, basking in each other's warmth and presence before the chill of the air got to be a bit too cold for your liking.

“Should we go inside? Burrow under some blankets?” Armin asks, both of you wading your way out of the water. His hand is in yours again, swinging them a little. You give him a grin and nod as he leads you back into your and his shared hut.

“Bioluminescence, huh.” You say, still marveling at the glowing sight. You made your own discovery too. The closer you looked at Armin’s eyes, the more you saw that glow of the blue water. Both brimming with energy and both inviting. Their presences are equally calming to most, but to you, it was all him.

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fallinforgyu · 2 years

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the thought of brushing beomgyu’s hair from his face while holding him (or fucking him🥴) is literally one of my most recurring fantasies like… he’s just so fucking pretty, art like that needs to be framed properly 💞💞

thinking about love-bombing him (in a non toxic way; I’m just obsessed w him so all I wanna do is assault him with affection) climbing onto his lap on the couch, straddling his thighs with yours, arms caged on the sides of his head so he’s trapped right beneath you

smooching his sweet face everywhere- forehead, temples, nose, cheeks, lips, jaw- all while telling him how handsome he is. how he’s the most special thing in the whole world, there’s no one else you’d rather look at, rather listen to, rather be with. that he’s the funniest, sweetest, craziest person you’ve ever met, and how dull your life would be without him in it. lifting the strands of his hair above his eyebrows and delicately pushing it out of his face, stroking your fingers behind his ears and down his neck resting in the junction where his shoulders connect just softly holding his throat as an anchor to touch him.

imagining the look on his face while you drown him in devotion, his eyes hazy and dreamlike as he stares at you. his cheeks flushed pink from the feeling of being loved, the earnest praise and your soft touches overwhelming him to an embarrassing degree. his brain preoccupied with taking in this euphoria, unable to respond to you in any way but heavy sighs and low hums from his throat.

expecting him to get worked up from your treatment, but finding your own skin growing hot and your clothes feeling suffocating. you always have endless thoughts of him, but vocalizing them out loud, with the object of your affection in your grip, has your body reacting to the serious truth of your feelings against your control. when your hips finally grind down onto him, you get to hear the first airy sound to escape his lips which he’d been trying to keep glued together

so caught up in the feeling of touching him you’re just shamelessly dry humping through your clothes. his hands groping and pulling your ass down on him, laying his head back against the couch to expose his beautiful, thick neck, which of course you just have to kiss and suck and mark to holy hell. when you finally snap and just have to feel him, clumsily trying to lift your weight off his thighs and unbutton his pants. your hands fly from his zipper between your legs to the outside of his thighs, grasping onto his sweats and pulling them down in broken little tugs. him chuckling at you when you whine out a “hurry” sarcastically replying that you’re in the way, but he’s joking of course, his hands on your waist are steadfast at keeping you from climbing off and removing his bottoms efficiently

his eyes glued to your hands, one grabbing his hardening cock to stroke it while the other attempts to hook your shorts and panties together to one side. a short but hot and messy make out session while you finish getting him fully hard, eventually breaking away to lift and align your hips over his. gently resting your chin on his head while you sink onto him, his soft hair tickling your jaw while his lips leave long wet kisses on your neck. uggghhh just lazy, slow sex with him beneath you 🤒🤒

neither of you chasing any high, just completely fueled by your mutual infatuation with each other, manifesting your deep emotional connection into a physical one. raking your fingers up the nape of his neck and while your bodies naturally find a perfect rhythm. every time you pull your hips back from him, he sinks his ass deeper into the couch, so when you grind down against him again he can roll his hips up into you, stretching you impossibly full. how he’d absolutely slide his hands up your shirt to grope your chest, before impatiently shoving the fabric up to your collarbones and catching your nipple is his mouth. snaking his hands around your rib cage to keep you locked in his arms, pulling you as close as possible, moving his head in sync with your body, so even as you move above him his mouth stays full

all of your sickly sweet words of confession turn shameful and nasty the longer you go. telling him that no one else in the world could make you feel so good, how no one could ever fuck you so deep, or touch you so well. and he’s telling you how beautiful you are, how you take him so well, that you were created for him. that you’re his, that he’s only all yours

my brain is a crispy fried broken record… just beomgyu on repeat 24/7 🤯🤯 I just wanna love him sm good grief

- 🥝

🥝 anon…. i owe you my life. truly. i’m gonna read this until i d!e

i swear to god our minds are connected bc this is EXACTLY what i think about 24/7. literally everything i have ever wanted and needed. 100000/10 stars. excellent brilliant showstopper incredible amazing one of a kind fantastic i will never shut up about this 😭😭😭😭💔

#literally shaking and crying #txt hard hours #bunny's mailbox 📬#mdni

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blackvelvetwriteson · 4 years

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐓

( ~ Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Gender Neutral Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut. Filthy, Disgusting, Grimy Smut.

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! This particular fic has tones of CNC (Consensual Non Consent) but it’s KNOWN that both Reader- Chan and Hawks are on the same page when it comes to this sort of thing. This is very aggressive and loving at the same time so just be warned about that. Other than that, I don’t think anything else needs to be reported. PLEASE let me know if anything triggers you and I will be sure to not write anything like this in the future.

SUMMARY: This is a headcanon of Hawks in rut. There’s GOING to be a part 2, so just be aware of that.

WORD COUNT: N/A because this is a headcanon/imagine

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

You both had the same shift that day so of course you both came home together.

You both had seemed exhausted to no end but Hawks was definitely zapped, but he was a little different.

You unlocked the door intending to take a shower, make dinner, and then catch up on anything you needed to, humming softly to yourself as Hawks followed.

You were about to speak before you were stopped and gripped by the neck, pushed into a kiss as he pushed you into the wall.

You grunt softly before it finally clicks and you let him dominate you, gently pushing the door before he grabbed your hand and pinned it against the wall.

The door didn’t close all the way, surprise surprise :|

You open your eyes a little to find his eyes hungrily peering down at you causing your heart to leap in your throat.

You also notice that his wings are high and defined behind him vibrating, a couple of loose feathers falling from the bunch.

The vibration of his wings casted an eerie low whirr around you as he started to bare his teeth a little feeling his cock get hard against you.

You close your eyes a little and look down but he tilts your chin up so you can’t look away, his hips grinding hard into you as he lets out one of those hoarse shaky breaths of his right by your ear.

You, who was already aroused a little before, pressed your thighs together and pressed his bulge in between them which made him arch his back, shudder and thrust into you hard, pulling your hips against him which created a loud mack that elicited a chesty moan from him.

You found his moans to be quite appealing and they made you even more horny every single time you heard them. He, of course, used it against you all the time, especially in the most inappropriate times.

By this point, you’d have figured out that he was in rut and a sly smirk washed over your face.

You knew that during Rut, he loved to indulge on his “bird of prey” instincts. He always loved a fight and you both knew each other’s boundaries so well that nothing had ever really went wrong before.

He leaned in to kiss you and you swiveled your head away from him causing him to growl lowly and take you by the throat, sucking on your earlobe causing your knees to buckle.

“Not so tough now are you, Baby Bird,” he growled, pulling you closer, marking your neck up with his teeth.

You tremble as you feel his teeth teasing your sensitive areas and you took one of his hands, sucking on his finger, rubbing his bulge, your eyes challenging his.

He lets out an airy moan as his eyebrows arch, biting his lip as he started to grind into your hand, his forearm now pressed against the wall, all of his moans spilling out of his mouth right into your ear.

You shudder and push against his bulge, pushing him away, nibbling on his finger as you pull away.

“Come. Here,” he growled out as he bit his lip, licking over the same fingers that were just in your mouth.

“I don’t think I want to,” you lie and walk away, shaking your ass in his direction as you walk away.

Again, there’s that eerie hum of his vibrating wings again his hand loosening his belt a little before his hand disappeared into his boxers, squeezing and stroking at his cock as he leaned against the wall.

“If you make me chase, y-you I’m g-going t-to f-face fuck you s-so g-goddamn ha-hard,” he moaned out as he continued to please himself, his hips bucking into his hand. “Y-You’re not going to be able to t-talk for a f-fucking w-week and a half,” he threatened already looking like he was about to cum, his eyes half lidded and his cheeks reddened.

“Oh no… A good face fucking from my daddy? W-What a tragedy,” you tease more, sitting on the bed, twirling your fingers in your hair as you watch him jerk himself off.

Suddenly you see a spark behind his eyes and you get a little nervous.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself,” he growled out in a small moan before starting to stroke himself faster,

For some reason, watching him with his shirt halfway off of his shoulders and his hands down his pants was a little hotter than if he were to have his cock out in the open for you to see.

His feathers started to fluff up and his breathing hitched as he leaned against the wall, his head tilted up as he broke into a fit of deep, chesty moans, his wings trembling as they became more pronounced.

At his feet, there was a pile of soft red down feathers, but somehow you were a little more focused on his trembling legs, his breathing and his expression sounding like he was about to cum.

Of course, you press your thighs together and groan out softly, grinding against your bed, letting out soft groans.

“I s-said— F-Fuck~ D-Don’t move!” He looked back down at you as he started to slowly thrust into his hand, his strong hips mimicking those deep strokes he gave to you that you loved so much, his teeth clad on the collar of his shirt, even on the brink of release still looking smug.

You suddenly formed an idea of your own that might’ve pissed him off, but you were pissed that he decided to get off without you, making you horny and not being able to do anything about it.

“K-Keigo,” you whimper, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “P-Please! I’m sorry, I’ll be a g-good b-baby bird, please… P-Please f-fuck me…”

You put on the most innocent, needy voice you could and knew that your plan was in motion once he took his hand out of his pants with a soft groan.

You spread your legs for him and he stood in between them pushing you back on the bed, trying *again* to give you a kiss.

You squeak softly when you’re pushed back on the bed and when he tries to kiss you, again you look away and try to push him off of you.

Once again, you both have a safe word and neither of you said it, so he continues.

He pulls your hips against his throbbing bulge and you whimper out loudly as he growls into your ear.

“G-Get off of me!” You tried to squirm and wiggle around, trying to push him off, trying to fight away.

“You’re gonna take me like a good baby bird!” He growled as he thrusted his hips hard against yours causing you to moan and cry out.

You moved to hit him and he just grabbed your wrist pinning you to the bed.

“Tell me how fucking bad you want me, baby,” he moaned into your ear, growling as he slowly rolled his hips into yours, his face looking a bit drunk because of the power he held over you, his eyes dark and malicious while also still loving.

“No! E-Eat shit Keigo,” you cry out trying not to give in to his cock twitching against your sex.

“Don’t make me rip those pants right off of you baby,” he threatened, his hand clenched tight around the top of your pants, pulling at your pants.

“D-Do it then! You’re the b-bird of prey r-right? Hm? So d-do something!”

He did as told with a challenging smirk, plucking one of his own feathers, cutting them off of you.

“W-Wait! Kei-“

He mocked you as he slid his pants and boxers down his legs just enough to be able to thrust deep inside of your tight little hole.

As he did so, you arched your back and all of that fight you held before suddenly melted away into a sea of moans and whimpers watching as his sharp eyes preyed upon you.

“Fuuuccckkk~ How does it feel? H-How does it feel knowing you do this to me, hm? Take responsibility baby bird,” he teases you as he immediately deals you deep strokes, pushing his strong hips into your hole ready for him to use and abuse all night.

Still, you want to be bratty so you slap him which makes him hold you down with one hand, the other hand thrusting hard into you, his wings flapping a little as they stiffened and he gave another throaty moan.

He was usually a sensitive person, but during rut his sensitivity absolutely skyrocketed and you couldn’t do anything but try and hold your resolve not to break.

You could see the pretty light behind his eyes so you dig your nails into his shoulder and he growls quietly as the tips of his wings flutter and quiver by how you squeeze around him.

You grab one of his hands and suck the precum from his fingers making his jaw drop and his eyes roll into the back of his head as his fluid hip thrusts melt into something choppy but still rough and pleasurable.

You knew that his hands were the most sensitive besides his ear and his collarbone.

“F-Fuck baby bird,” he moaned out trying not to cum, his breaths heaving as sweat washed over his forehead.

You smirk and bite on his fingers and then deep throat them causing him to practically yelp out in pleasure, his cock twitching inside of you.

“Like this, daddy,” you ask as he stares down at you with your lustful eyes as the saliva strands connects your lips to his fingers.

“Y-Ye-ah,” he moaned out as he tried to keep from passing out.

He loved how tight you were around him, the way you looked with your fingers down your throat and the way your moans felt around his fingers.

You knew you had the control now, so you push yourself against him and clench down as you nibble on his fingers.

I w-want you to cum inside of m-me! Please daddy,” you tease as you felt him harden more and he was about to cum right then and there.

“I d-don’t w-want t-to-“

And right after that, he came, his eyes widening as he thrusted into you hard, his feathers casting that almost cinematic murmur through the room before standing up pronounced as if he were putting on a show for someone. He looked pronounced, curved over you, his fingers going deeper into his throat, a panting mess, his eyes sleek and slender, his trembling feathers still having that soft hum.

Luckily for him, being the territorial fuck he was, the neighbors COULD see you. All of you. And everything that’d just transpired.

The door wasn’t closed all the way.

The windows were open.

But upon further inspection, however, there was one *neighbor* watching just a little too closely. Your friendly neighborhood villain, Dabi.

#bnha headcanons #bnha smut #bnha x reader #hawks x y/n #pro hero hawks #hawks lemon #hawks imagine #gender neutral imagine #lemon fic #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader #mha takami keigo #takami keigo smut

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eternalstann · 4 years

Note

so this is a request, can you please do another „sex pollen“ with peter, where he and y/n touch the plant and they fuck the whole night until their craving is gone? i love this sex pollen thing so much😭

Omggg!;!;! I love sex pollen too I got you boo...

——————

you sighed, you and peter had been trapped in this lab for over an hour. where the fuck was everyone? you thought to yourself for the hundredth time.

“Y/N I’m boredddd” Peter drawled from his position not to far from you. He’d been designing a web outfit for the skeleton across from him for almost twenty minutes. “Fuck Harvard, you should go to fashion school Pete” you joke and he gives you a look. “Yeah, whatever let’s play a game” he says turning his body to face you, abandoning his masterpiece on the statue of bones. “What do you want to play?” You ask, raising a curious brow at him. “You have nice eyebrows, let’s play 21 questions” he says thoughtfully and you smile.

“Okay but you go first...” you agree, tucking your knees under you. “Hmmm..” he taps his chin and you roll your eyes. He had to be the biggest drama king you knew. “Who was your first crush?” He asks and you rack your brain, “Andrew Goldsmith in fourth grade” you reply cooly and he clicks his tongue. “Interesting, your turn” he winks. You wondered on what to ask him, “have you ever used ‘Spiderman’ to pick up girls?” and he blushes. “No...well kind of; but not for me. For Ned!” He explains, stumbling over his words a little and you giggle. He was a young man, you wouldn’t blame him if he did. But you couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over you hearing that he hadn’t. He wasn’t even yours but you hated the thought of sharing him.

“Okay; who was the best sex you ever had?” He inquires, face stoic. “Peter!” You shake your head. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe Liam..” you mumble and Peters eyes go big. “Liam from the front desk?” He shouts and you shhh him. “I can’t believe you had sex with Liam from the front desk!” He repeats throwing his hands up and sitting down next to a pretty flower. You hadn’t noticed it before, it looked like a large rose. Peter noticed the flower too, leaning in to smell it. “Oh my god..this flower is literally the greatest thing I have ever smelled” he gushed. He picks off a piece and carries it over to you. You hold the flower to your nose and sniff. He’s right, the smell is intoxicating.

“It smells like new books and vanilla” - and you, you want to add. But that has to be impossible you think. “Really?” Peter’s eyebrows go up, “I smell peaches - that’s super weird” he says. Those scents are nothing alike. His eyes linger on your face, a funny look coming over him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, studying him. “Nothing...I just feel strange” he whispers, swaying on his feet. You jump to catch him when he stumbles backwards, and guide him to sit down on the hard floor. “Jesus, are you okay?” You ask, watching him squint his eyes and rub his forehead. “Yeah, I think” his voice is light and airy. Much different from the loud, goofy tone he had moments ago. “Are you hurt? What’s is it Peter?” You quiestion him, feeling his forehead. You nearly gasp when you feel how hot his skin is. “Must be coming down with a cold” he mumbles, scooching away from you. You frown, “no cold would hit you so suddenly like this” you counter. You try to think, but the ability to do so becomes harder and harder as your own body begins to heat up.

“What is happening” you whisper sitting down parallel to Peter. His head is tipped backwards, jawline begging to be kissed by you...wtfff you’d never thought of Peter like this?? “Y/N..” he calls out to you, hand blindly landing on your knee. The head from his touch searing through your clothes. “Hmmm?” You hum, letting your eyes fall shut. You imagination was running wild, all the ways you’d let him wreck you. “You’re so pretty; have I ever told you how pretty you are?” He gasps out. You want to reply but all you can do is hum again. You felt high, your whole body tingling with want for the brown haired boy in front of you.

“Peter..” you whine, legs queezing together on their own accord. “Something wrong...” Peter hums, backing away from you. “Don’t leave me!” You cry, reaching out for him. “I’m not, I just...need to calm down” he whispers. “Fuck, Y/N I really can’t be near you” he grunts standing and walking to the farthest corner away from you. His words hurt but your glad for his actions, you were getting close to jumping on him. You see his prominent bulge through the tight material of his suit and you lick your lips. The sight of his strong frame had a sticky wetness pooling between your legs. You breathing comes out heavier in an effort to maintain your composure but you were slowly slipping into the abyss of desire.

“Peter....can you please turn around” you ask as sweetly as you can. You need relief, before you lose it. His handsome face looked confused at first and his breath caught in his throat when he realized why you were asking. He just nods and turns away. You don’t hesitate before stripping yourself of your suit. You knew you were out of your mind to lay naked on a floor that wasn’t your own. But you’d worry about germs later, now you just needed to cum.

Peters senses are dialed to a 100. He listened to your laboured breathing, and the sound of your wetness as you pushed your fingers in and out of your pussy. His brain imagined what you looked like, only feet away from him. He needed to see you. He took a deep breath before turning around and he feels a pull low in stomach at the sight of you. He wanted to wreck you.

“Peter!” You cry in embarassment when you realize he’s looking at you. “Don’t stop” his voice entrances you. You stare him in his eyes, never stopping your movements. He walks towards you, removing his own suit and you whimper at the sight of his bare skin. You want to feel him every inch. “Hurry up and get over here” your voice comes out rough and desperate, it’s like music to Peter ears.

He obliges your request with fervor, laying a top you. His leg pushing your thighs apart to make room for his hips. He settles between your legs, you arms wrapped around his neck. “Fuck, Y/N can I?” He asks, grasp on reality getting away from him as he rutted against you. “Yes!” You all but scream, dying for him to be inside of you. He barely lines himself up before pushing into you with one go. Shitttt

Your hands grab handfuls of his thick hair as he makes his first thrust. He looks heavenly above you, mouth open and eyes shut. His face tinted pink, long lashes ghosting over his cheeks and broad shoulders holding him up over you. You know you aren’t going to last long. “Y/N..” he moans your name, speeding up. He was fucking you into oblivion. Your back arched into him as he pounded into you, and when one of his hands wraps around your throat you’re done for. You shake as you come on his dick as he uses your body to reach his own peak. “Cum for me baby” you groan, kissing his neck.

“Fuck!” He yells, thrusting sloppily before spilling inside of you. He lays down and his weight feels nice pressed against you. He cuddles into you and you giggle.

“I wanna change my answer” you say, and he looks at you with a dazed expression. “...I wanna change my answer. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had” you tell him and he laughs.

“Round two?”

#smh sorry this took so long #i hope you like it #i love you #also same i loveeeee sex pollen #sex pollen #peter parker smut #peter parker #peter parker blurb #peter parker one shot #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland #spiderman smut #spiderman imagine #spiderman blurb #blurb night #prompts #tom holland smut

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katsuflossy · 4 years

Text

For the Sake of the Mission

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x reader

TW: obscenities, slight sexual scene, angst

Word Count: 2.3k

Taglist: @sunset-novice-writer @goatsenpaiultimate

A/n: I’ve decided to change it from 18+ because it really isn’t just please use descretion as there are uncomfortable scenes. Asides from that I’ve gotten this idea from some British show my mom was watching so props to y’all who’ll now the reference. Please enjoy!! (Edited)

The whirring of the vents took advantage of the silence in the room, making up most of the sounds in the metal chamber. It made the air cold, scattering goosebumps on your skin even though around you wore a black sweater. Walls showed no sign festivity, bare of any creative artworks, just reflective of where you currently are. A face devoid of any emotions looked back at you, but even without proper clarity you knew the purpose of the reflection; it wasn’t a giant metaphor to reflect on your mistakes and crimes nor was it supposed to be calming. Its purpose was to make sure you had nothing else left to blame. The only blame was to lay you and your “confessions”.

The interrogation room was like a confessional that didn’t allow you to come back from mistakes.

The contact of soft yet pointed footsteps on the tiles of the floor now dominated the mechanical drone of the vents. Like a sly fox purposefully tapping around its prey as a taunt. Your heart never raced harder before this scenario. Getting caught in the middle of a police raid will definitely pull you into more trouble than you are already in.Your eyes switched from the wall to the ominous black window in front of you. You can’t see them but they can see you. Hell, you don’t even know who is behind that window, gauging your entire reaction at this moment. But that wasn’t what struck your heart in fear.

The footsteps could be heard behind your seated figure. Its dynamic raised louder, practically echoing through the vacuum of a room. You swallowed with much tension as the knob turned, breaking the new presence in the room.

You wondered who it was and prayed it was a low ranking police man. If it was Naomasa, Kenji or any other high ranking officers, your cover would be blown and two sides would place, on your head, a hefty bounty, dead or alive.

Black boots stepped across your vision as you peered on to your own attire, crinkled and worn from the activities you were caught in. The whirring dominated the room again as he laid on the wall, one leg used to support his weight. Your eyes finally connected to his face.

“I spoke at your funeral, you know that right?” You stared blankly into his face. Aizawa wasn’t deterred from your deadpanned face however.

“Imagine making a eulogy for someone you care so much about, believing for 3 months they have died only to have her right in front of you again—” He moved to the chair on his side of the room, “not saying a word to you. Like it has just been a bad dream.”

You kept your tongue on a leash. Your gaze went to the window and back to the hero. He sighed in discontent before placing his hand on the recorder, lifting it up to show the lack of light on the device.

“The recorder is off and there’s no one behind there. So your words stay with me.” You sighed in relief however the situation now seemed more tortuous than what you were fearing.

“I know.” Your voice breaks in soft waves to Aizawa’s ears which croned to get more. After all, he went from listening to you everyday to straight radio silence. There was no explanation or your ‘death’ and disappearance and he had endured the worst. But now he has a chance to find answers.

“I did some little digging,” your head whipped back to his own as he went on, “the most I’ve found was a covert special ops able to infiltrate the League with only two members. One uses death to gain the respect of the league members in order to join their ranks and get a bulk of the information while the other stays on the side of the heroes. I’m assuming the former is you and the latter—“

“How did you get that information! You’re sleuthing around could ruin the whole mis—“

“You were dead.” His words ran echoes through your ears and sent chills down your spine, not in the ways that it used to. In three words his raw emotions shook you to your core and shook your trained mind. It seeped in back the old memories that had been blocked out for the sake of your profession.

“The latter, they’re keeping airtight, I’m assuming only the high members of the Commision have that intel.”

Panic began to whirl around you. If Aizawa had been able to collect such intel on you, others would too. And those ‘others’ are willing to go to any lengths necessary to find that information at the sniff of betrayal. Aizawa sat back and drank in your appearance. Your hair grew in the short but torturous span of 3 months and your skin accepted more battle scars. You should be seen as disheveled, crooked and less attractive but Aizawa thought you were the most beautiful person he’s seen in the past months.

“If you worry about your espionage being revealed, don’t. I used Shinso’s brainwashing quirk to get one of those Commission heads to confess.” Your eyes widened at his honesty.

“Shouta! You can get yourself prosecuted for that!” His eyes glared straight into your own as he scowled further.

“And the same goes for you. How many years do you think you’ll get for faking death and joining Japan’s most notorious villains.” As taken aback you were, you chose to defend yourself.

“It’s my job. You know well if I didn’t obey the Commission’s wishes then I would face even more serious consequences.” You paused your speech, abruptly realising how much anger you had concurred in such a short time with the League, something that should’ve never happened in the first place. You took a deep inhale of air.

“I had to do it for us. I did it for those kids. At the very most, I did it for the citizens of this country.”

His heart and mind were at their final battle. He thought about this reunion nearly everyday and how he would approach you. One route depicted his lashing out at you, the anger bursting through the mask of hurt. On the other route, he pulled you in a tight embrace, hands roaming all over your body to ensure you were in fact real. Now that his manifestations became reality, he couldn’t choose. The concealed pain in your eyes held up a black window like the one on the other side of the room. Only thing was that he was the only one able to see you, the real you.

What did the Commission drag you into? What have you seen?

His heart softened, sending him back to those free late nights, laying on each other watching stand up comedy with a bottle of liquor. You were just bubbly, cracking jokes that rivaled those of the comedian.

His hardened shell finally broke. He let out an airy laugh.

“To think that saving humanity would let us lose the ones we feel human around.” You hummed in dreadful agreement, stripping down a little of your wall as well.

“Indeed, I miss being able to walk outside fearless of any attack from the police or other villains.”

Your words made you sound like a true villain, but he knows you, your way of talking, your body language, your love language.

He leaned back in the chair, letting his back lay against the cold metal as you did the same, making yourselves comfortable as much as you can.

“Tell me. What have you been doing in the last three months?”

You began retelling your life as a spy in the League, how Shirigaki didn’t introduce himself to you until after the first month and the personalities of each villain. You made sure to redact certain information for the fear of roping Aizawa into the same situation they have forced you into, until you blurted out your recent command.

“The last drop off I’ve had they told me I wasn’t close to unfolding the master plans despite leaking various missions that could’ve led to disaster. I had to get close to the members, bond through hobbies, be their entertainer— shit those bastards said to use my womanhood to—“ Aizawa’s eye widened at your slip up, after noticing how careful you were selecting your words. You cleared your throat, heart beating at the speed of light.

“—basically just get buddy buddy with someone.”

“No, that was not what you were going to say. Finish your sentence.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you tried to swallow down your fear. You took a second in attempting to gather yourself before responding.

“Shouta, I just said they want me to make a friend with one of them—“

“That was not what you were going to say—“

“Well that’s confidential Shouta—“

“I believe I should know when my girlfriend is forced to seduce one of the League’s members.”

You kept your mouth shut, allowing the vents, attempting to blow the tension out of the air, make up for your silence. Shouta stayed still, only moving he exhaled with shaking, tense shoulders, like a volcano ready to erupt.

“Which one is it?” His words came out with a sense of danger, a warning of eruption. You chose to stay silent.

“Shigarki Tomura?” You were silent.

“Dabi?” You were silent.

“Mr. Compress?” Your eyes darted to the side, in an attempt to avoid him from looking into your eyes. But he knew the answer already.

“Fucking shit!” He stood from his seat, a screech emitting through the air before he placed his hands on the table, calming himself down. His anger begged to throw the chair, break the table, punch the walls however he knew the outcome of that route. Many officers would rush in after the commotion before arresting you on sight.

So he breathed, he breathed until the thick humidity of anger evaporated off of his body.

Meanwhile you sat down, guilt gnawing at your heart without hesitation. Your eyes darted to the cameras, one at the corner of the room behind your back and the other on the table, turned off from seeing the look of despair in your eyes.

Your mind went back to the scene before the police raid. Atsuhiro’s hand gently holding your neck as the other laid on your hip. His body firmly pressed against yours, letting you feel the hard bulge on your lower back. He skimmed your ear, calling you a “pretty flower” before zipping down the dress from your back. The dress they bought for you. Just as he was about to kiss you, the police broke down the door of the hideout you were stationed in. Astuhiro escaped and you, along with the little lowlife villains, were the sacrifice.

Your head hung low, shame clouded your thoughts. You couldn’t even look him within the eyes and Shouta saw that. His heart hurt for you like how yours were hurting for him. He slumped his shoulders and let out a sigh. There may be another route he had to choose in order for a better reunion.

“I would’ve never fathom a situation like this. I don’t want you to do this and just the thought of another man touching you makes my blood boil.” You flinched at the harshness in his tone.

“But for the sake of our lives. Do what you need to do.” You snapped your head up to his face, confusion set on your features as he continued.

“It hurts me, like how it hurts you. And judging by your reaction, I know you don’t want to do this also. But if it is my feeling you are trying to protect, don’t, because I know you’ll come back to me at the end of this.”

Within this safe space Aizawa made, you cried. You cried for the first time in the last two months before being a part of the elite League members. The feeling of being human was brought to the forefront of your mind, showing the (Y/n) has known from before. His own eyes stinging from the tears on his waterline.

“Hey.” He lifted your chin to look at your face.

“Promise me you’ll come back to me.” Your cheeks dewy from your tears and your lips red from the blood rushing to your face.

“I will come back to you. I promise.” The corner of his lips lifted up in a bittersweet smile. He let go of your chin to walk towards the door.

“I’ll try to delete that tape from the camera, when I walk down the hall to the right, take the fire escape down the left. Okay?”

“Okay.” Your eyes looked at the camera’s peripheral vision, noticing it didn’t have a view on the front of the door.

In a haste you turned around and ran towards the pro-hero. As soon as he turned around, your fingers entangled in the strands of his hair, pulling down his head to mold your lips with his. A passionate tango of tongues danced within your maw, recollecting the feeling of old times. It wasn’t a goodbye; it was a promise. You both know it.

As your lips parted from his, you wrapped your arms around him, spanning the broadness of his back, and laying your chin on his shoulder. He embraced you with the same tightness. You whispered in his ear.

“For the sake of the mission?”

“For the sake of the mission.”

You released him and stepped back into the door frame, remaking the space you’ve left from three months ago. This time, a sense of hope will pull you through as you complete your mission. And an anchor will keep you grounded to the ones you loved, and not to the villains reaping your empathy.

As he turned to the down the right hall, his eyes met yours before disappearing past the corner. Your training kicked in, both physical and mental, and you ran down the hall to the left.

#aizawa imagine #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #bnha imagines #bnha aizawa #bnha aizawa x reader #bnha shouta x reader #eraserhead #bnha shouta aizawa #bnha x reader #bnha x poc!reader

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Something More

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: mentions of character death.

Summary: When you lose your best friend, its hard to move on. . Luckily its not the end for either of you.

A/N: So this is much shorter than my usual fics but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. feedback is greatly appreciated! Also this is a hot mess that has been sitting in my drafts for eons. . . so its probs garbage.

It was so quiet.

The type of quiet that feels like it’s sleeping into the very marrow of your bones. The type that curls around you and is almost irritating. That type that makes you uneasy. Sure there was the light hum of the radio turned down low and the occasion sound of a page being flipped. . .but your head had blocked those out.

You were drowning. And silence was the suffocater.

With your arms folded over the top of Bobby’s desk, you rested your chin atop your hands, eyes mindlessly locked on the glass in front of it.You had been doing a lot of that lately. Getting lost in your head space. Blocking everything out.

“You keep starin any harder and you might actually melt the ice.” Bobby sighed, breaking the silence from the other side of the desk. The old hunter shifting his way through a pile of books besides him.

“Mmhmm.”

“You gonna actually have a conversation with me, or no?”

“Mmm.”

“Y/N.”

“What Bobby?” You snapped, lifting your head up to find his gaze. “What?”

“We need to talk this out.”

Slumping back in your chair you folded your arms over your chest. “Talk about what?”

Bobby let out a sigh before tossing another book to the side, his pile growing slowly. “It’s been four weeks, Y/N. You’ve barely said a word.”

“What is there to say? my best friend is six feet under and Sam has taken off to parts unknown. That about sums it up.”

“Y/N-“

You shook your head before pushing yourself out of your seat. “No. No. I ain’t having this conversation. Not now.” You didn’t give the hunter any room for more words before you were leaving the study and disappearing down the darkened hallway.

You couldn’t sit here any more. You’d been cooped up in this place for almost month, and when you did leave it was only to wander aimlessly around the junkyard. With Dean gone it felt like there was a massive hole in your life and you felt lost.

It was twenty minutes later that Bobby found you seated a the kitchen table, shoving a handful of clothes into a backpack with much more force than was actually needed.

“So, you finally leavin me too?” He sighed, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. You didn’t stop your movements, only letting out a huff.

“Bobby. . . It’s not- it’s not like that. I’m not pulling a Sam. I’ll come back.”

Bobby let out an almost amused and airy laugh. “Yeah, sure. Keep talkin like that.”

“I’m serious. I will come back. I just- I can’t sit around here anymore.” You began, pausing to zip up the pack and throw it over your shoulder.

“Alright, kid. You gotta give me more information than that.”

That was when you felt the first sting of tears collecting in the ducts of your eyes. Letting out a tired sigh you looked up at the old hunter, the exhaust and pain clear on your features. “Bobby, I don’t sleep.” You breathed, voice shaky. “I don’t eat. And it’s so quiet here. Each second I sit here, I’m just drowning in grief. I need to occupy myself with something. Even if that means hunting.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes, by myself.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

Another sigh. “You know, probably not. But I’m not gonna sit here anymore and drink myself into a stupor.” You slid your other arm through the empty strap. “It might help me work through this.”

There was silence for a moment before he slowly nodded. “Well, if that’s what you want. But promise me you’ll check in every once and awhile?”

“I will.” You promised before stepping across the old floors of the kitchen and pulling him into a quick hug. “If Sam calls, tell me.”

“Will do, Kid.”

And just like that you were giving him one last look and disappearing out the side door of the house, the dark swallowing you almost instantly.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Three months later

Spitting the excess water out of his mouth, Dean reached for the hand towel lying untouched on Bobby’s kitchen counter, wiping his face dry.He had been back less than a day and had already been attacked by some unknown force and the man he called a father figure. Resurrection was not treating him easy to say the least.

“I’m not a demon either, Bobby.”

“Can’t be too careful.” He shrugged, setting the flask down on the closest flat surface. When he originally heard knocks on the front door now a days the only person he expected it to be was you. (Then again, you usually just walked in.)He didn't expected to see a dirt covered Dean Winchester smiling at him on his stoop.

The hunter nodded, a heavy silence falling over them as green eyes darted around the otherwise empty house, as if looking for something.

“They ain’t here.”

“What?”

“You’re looking for Sam and Y/N aren’t you?”

Tossing the towel back down, the hunter shrugged. “I mean, yeah. I guess I just expected them to be here.”

Dean had tried calling both yours and Sam’s phones when he first got topside, but there had been nothing, leaving him only with an uneasy feeling in his belly. He had missed your voice. He was hoping to hear it sooner rather than later.

“Well, I haven’t talked to Sam in months.” Bobby sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the table.

“Why the hell not?” Eyes widening, Dean sent him a bewildered look. “Bobby you shoulda been lookin after him.”

“Well excuse me. But after you. . .you know, bit it. He took off. As far as I know he’s fine.”

Dragging a hand down his face, Dean let out a deep sigh. “. . . And Y/N?”

Another shrug. “She comes by every once and awhile, she’s been burying herself in hunting.” He paused, unsure whether to fill Dean in on everything.

“What?”

“She hasn’t been doing well. She shakes it off each time she comes to visit but it’s easy to see.” Bobby explained, moving to the fridge and rifling through it for a couple of beers.

“What are you talking about?”

“After you died. . . Dean, it was like she became a husk of her former self. She didn’t talk, she barely slept. Refused to eat. It was bad.”

Dean took a deep breath, trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. “And what happened?”

“One night she just packed her bag and took off. Said she couldn’t just sit around here anymore drowning in grief.”

Of course you did. Of fucking course. You never were one to sit by and just let things happen. You were similar to Dean in that aspect, choosing to instead bury yourself in work rather than face the issue head on.

“You should have stopped her.”

“Oh and done what? Acted like a damn babysitter? That would go over well.” Bobby huffed, cracking the cap off of the second beer and handing it over.

“I know, I just- she shouldn’t be alone.”

“She wanted to be, Dean. I wasn’t gonna stop her.”

“Alright, fine.”raising his hands in defeat, Dean winced. The gash from where Bobby has cut him with a knife minutes earlier stinging from the sudden movement.

Bobby let out another tired sigh before setting down his beer bottle and walking off down the hall. “I’ll get you some bandages for that.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Pulling into the auto-salvage after a two week long hunt, you let out a groan at the sight of another car in your usual spot.

“Dammit Bobby, another car? Seriously?”

The old man already had enough of them as it was just sitting around the place, now there was another one. . . And in your spot no less. Throwing your own vehicle into park behind it, you gathered up the groceries you had promised Bobby you would pick up and threw open the drivers door.

Your boots crunched against the dry gravel of the driveway as you made you way towards the side door into the kitchen, pocketing the keys with one hand before reaching to open the door and stepping inside.

“Alright you old man, I got those fuckin groceries you asked f—“ your words died quickly on your lips as you froze, looking up from your bags.

No. No you were imagining things. You were sleep deprived and needed food that was all.

You blinked.

Nope. He was still there. Okay. Cool, cool, cool-

Dean froze right along with you, his eyes widening as he pushed himself up from his spot leaning agasint the table. He could feel the corners of his lips turning up at the sight of you. Your flannel was tied around your waist, and your hair. . .your hair was shorter than the last time he saw you. But your eyes were still the same, bold and full of life- even if you were staring at him like he had sprouted a second head.

“Y/N.”

And then you were moving. The bags dropped from your hands and before Dean could fully register your movements you were pulling a small throwing knife out of your boot, pulling your arm back and throwing it with all the force you had before closing the space between the two of you with firm strides. He ducked quickly, the soft thunk of the blade lodging in the wall somewhere behind him being heard over scattering groceries.

“Y/N! Wait-“ his hands went up but not before your fist collided with his nose. He saw stars for a moment before his vision tried to focus once more.

“Fucking shapeshifter!”

And then he was on the ground and you were stradling his chest, fist raising again. “ damn it, Y/N! Stop, stop it’s really me!” Attempting to shield his face from your knuckles he held up his hands.

“Don’t you dare fucking use his voice!” You growled, free hand moving to his throat. “I may not have a silver knife on me right now, but that won’t stop me from choking the life out of you.”

“Would you fucking stop it! It’s me!”

“No! Dean is dead! My Dean is dead, you're just some sick imposter!”

“Good god, woman-“ Dean wheezed, hands wrapping around your wrists in attempt to pull you off.

“What the hell?”

There was a commotion from somewhere behind you and then two firm hands were forcefully yanking you off the monster. You struggled against his grip.

“Bobby, let me go! He’s a shifter, he’s a fuckin shifter!”

“No, no I already checked.” Bobby breathed, continuing to hold you back. “It’s not a shifter. It’s rally him, Y/N. It’s really Dean.”

“No-“ you struggled more, unfortunately feeling your energy start to give. “No. Deans dead. He’s dead.” You could feel the tears starting to burn as you shook your head.

“Damn it, kid. I’m tellin ya, it’s him. I did all the tests.”

There was another moment of struggle before you slowly gave up, prying yourself from Bobby’s grip. Your eyes never left Dean, who was still recovering on the floor. He wiped the blood away from his nose with the back of his hand before slowly sitting up.

“Was the choking really necessary?” Looking up at you he had hoped to find a look of relief maybe even a smile. . . Or even get a hug. But all you did was stare him down for another moment before storming off back out the side door, slamming the screen door with much more force than necessary.

“Okay. . . Wasn’t the reunion I was hopin for.” Dean groaned, pushing himself off the floor as he rubbed at his throat. “Has she always been that strong?”

“You best go find her before she comes back with a bat or something.” Bobby joked, only to get a glare from the older Winchester.

“You’d think she’s be happy to see her best friend after him being dead for four months.” Grumbling, Dean made his way towards the door, using his hip to push it open.

It didn’t take long to find you. Your back was towards him as you leaned against the trunk of one of the many cars in the auto salvage. Just beyond the yard the sun was beginning to set behind the tree line, the rays giving you an almost golden trim.

Fourty years. Forty years of being in hell, and you were the first beautiful thing he had seen since coming back. . . Even if you were for some reason mad at him. He paused in his spot for a moment, suddenly remembering how many things he had wanted to tell you before his time ran out. Things he never got the chance to.

“Is that your ugly ass car in my spot?” You spoke suddenly, not turning around to look at him.

“. . .Okay, first of all- not my car. I found it. Secondly, I didn’t know that was your spot.” Shaking his head he continued moving forward until he was siding up next to you.

Your jaw clenched as you looked back towards the horizon. You didn’t mean to be angry at him, truly. You were ecstatic that he was back. You wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and tell him you missed him.

But you were angry.

Angry at him for selling his soul, angry at him for leaving without telling you. Angry at him for emotionally scarring you-

That’s when you suddenly spun and your palm connected with his cheek with a loud crack, the hunters own hand flying up to the already red welt.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for?”

“That was for dying! That was for you leaving!!” You snapped, eyes blurry with tears. “You left to go find Lilith with Sam and you didn’t tell me! You didn’t even leave me a note or anything!” Your voice cracked. “I came back from a supply run that night and found the place empty! Bobby was the only one to tell me anything! And by the time I got to where you were— you were- you-“ you stumbled on the words.

That’s when Dean felt his heart break. You were right. You had every reason be mad. He took off on the night his year ran up and he didn’t tell you. But he only did that because she didn’t want you there when it happened. He couldn’t put you through that pain.

“You’re right, you’re right.” He sighed, nodding slightly before pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I should have said something. I’m sorry for putting you through that.”

You struggled against him for a moment before giving in, practically melting into his arms. You didn’t realize how much you had missed his hugs. They were so nice. Warm. Comfortable. Safe.

“Why’d you leave like that? Why didn’t you tell me? I thought best friends were supposed to tell each other everything.” You mumbled into the fabric of his jacket, his hand smoothing over your hair as he exhaled.

“I knew what I was walking into. I didn’t want you there. I didn’t want you to see that.” He admitted, feeling you clutch him tighter.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah. Yeah I know.”

“I’m sorry for almost killing you back there.”

“its fine. . .But you do have a killer right hook by the way.” He chuckled, praying you would laugh. You didn't.

You let yourself stay in his arms for another second before pulling back to look at him. Fucking bastard. Showing up here after being dead for months and then making you go all soft again. Who did he think he was?

You raised a palm again, Dean holding up his own in defense, ready for your strike- and then he felt it tug on the collar of his shirt and was caught off guard when you pulled him to your level and pressed your lips against his. For an instant Deans brain short circuited and he found himself frozen before hesitantly kissing back. Unfortunately you pulled away much too soon for his liking.

“And what the hell was that for?”

“That was for not staying dead.” You paused. “And for being a pretty bastard who stole my heart a long time ago.” This time your words much quieter.

“What?”

“Oh you heard me you gorgeous asshole. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

This time it was Deans turn to twist his fingers into the fabric of your flannel, yanking you against his chest. His lips found yours again, this time deepening the kiss.

“And here I thought my feelings where all one sided-“ he mumbled against your lips, arm wrapping around your waist.

“Well, you thought wrong Winchester.”

And in that moment, for the first time in forty years- Dean Winchester smiled. He was home, and he was happy.

SPN Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe @hhiggs

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester #spn x reader #SPN #bi-danvers writing #dean winchester fluff

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senlinyu · 4 years

Note

Hello! I've been inspired by you to get all my fic ideas out of my mind and start writing. However, I am finding it quite difficult to stop leaning on adverbs. What writing advice do you have for fledgling writers? What common mistakes should novice writer avoid? Any advice would be very greatly appreciated!

To be honest, the process of giving up adverbs and alternative dialogue tags is horrible and traumatic and I hated it and I still hate it. And sometimes I show up in my beta’s DMs and wail petulantly at her about how much harder it is to write now and that it’s all her fault.

Okay, that out of the way… if you’re just starting to write, I would actually advise not stressing about writing craft.

Seriously.

Story craft is more important at the beginning. Figure out what kinds of things you love writing, the ideas that spark your imagination, the kinds of characters and twists you like incorporate into a fic. Find your verve.

When you’re first figuring out how to tell a story, getting stuck on writing craft can easily handicap you, because your brain gets so stuck on sentence execution or a list of “do nots” that you’ll stop seeing the forest for the trees. A story needs to fly, or it won’t matter how perfectly executed your prose is on a technical level.

Writing craft can be added to a story in the revision process. It is considerably easier to go through a story and delete a dialogue tag or an adverb and insert something else, even though it can feel like pulling teeth in the beginning. It’s much harder to take a technically well-written story and try to breathe life into it without tearing the whole damn thing into pieces.

When you’re writing a draft, use as many dialogue tags and adverbs as you want. String them in a necklace and hang them everywhere. Get the scene out and onto paper and then you can beat it into shape from there.

Once you have an interesting scene drafted, then you can go back and look at dialogue tags and adverbs that you left for yourself, and make them into something else. Think of them as placeholders in a rough draft.

Replacing adverbs is… not easy at the beginning.

For me, initially trying to go through and replace adverbs was really hard, it was a long process for me. But it did stretch me a lot. I used this emotional thesaurus a lot to help me. Re-visualize your scene.

When I started writing, I leaned heavily on alternative dialogue tags and then in the process of trying to give them up, I switched to over-using adverbs.

My writing tended to go through a transition from:

First draft:

“Well, it wasn’t me,” he hummed.

That’s a nice quick word to drop in order to keep going with drafting a scene and get it all down. But once the scene is drafted, I’ll go back to it and think about it.

Sitting there on it’s own, this is a kind of silly dialogue tag because if I try to hum these words, it’s just sounds ridiculous. So the question is, what was I trying to say? Was I saying he spoke and then gave a little hum? Is there a low, even, humming quality to his voice? Or am I trying to communicate something about his mood?

Let’s say this time, what I was really trying to indicate is that he’s not defensive. He’s calm. So let’s just forget about humming today and use a different word because I wasn’t meaning to say that he was actually humming.

“Well, it wasn’t me,” he said nonchalantly.

Ok. Well that works. But if there’s a bunch of dialogue and both characters are just saying things in adverbs it can get old really fast. Let’s imagine that the previous line of dialogue already used an adverb, so we want this part to flow a little more. Variance makes makes writing sing. A lonely little adverb doesn’t really create a scene.

Different readers may envision nonchalance in different ways. So this is an opportunity to establish details about the character, the kind of body language they use, and tells that can be utilized later in the story. Is he really nonchalant or is he faking it? What is he doing to communicate nonchalance? Is his voice airy? Is he shrugging?

So I try to envision the scene, actually imagine what the character is doing and how they’re interacting with the location. Dropping adverbs usually involves a lot more writing and descriptions.

“Well, it wasn’t me.” He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he met her eyes.

That’s basically the process I go through when I’m trying to weed out adverbs from my writing. I’ve been putting my fics up onto wattpad lately, and at the moment I’m posting All You Want there, and I used adverbs heavily in that fic, so I’ve been revising it as I go along.

BUT!

That process is totally useless if the scene is boring! The story has to come first. If a scene is lifeless and pointless, it doesn’t matter how consciously omitted the adverbs are or how technically excellent the writing is. It has to actually be a scene that’s useful, and meaningful and carries the story forward in a way that’s compelling. So, focus first on crafting a story you love and feel excited about before you start worrying about things like adverb use.

Anyway. I hope that’s helpful. 😅

#writing craft #story craft #senlinyuspeaks #asks #on writing

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hypmic-writings · 4 years

Note

I love your writing!//// May I ask for a scenario where Jakurai becomes smitten with someone who's good at singing, but he discovers they're blind (sorry if this is weirdly specific;;;

Never be sorry, I love writing weirdly specific fics! It just means they’re unique! Hope this is kind of what you wanted~

Jakurai always had respect for the arts.

He could often be found going to plays or orchestral concerts around Shinjuku, using the nights as a kind of ‘alone time’ for himself. He found them quite relaxing and enjoyed attending all kinds of productions.

That night was similar – it was hosted at a local theater that showcased up-and-coming artists from all around the city. Jakurai had seen some of these events before and he rather liked the newcomers. There was a sort of raw, emotional passion that came from many of them as opposed to some of the professionals who often left him wondering if they were simply performing for the money.

As the night went on and the performances progressed, Jakurai hadn’t found himself too attached to any act in particular.

That was, until you come on stage.

From the moment you opened your mouth to hit the first note of the song, Jakurai was taken with you. Your stage presence was more powerful than any of the other acts; your voice was strong and powerful and every melody you sung seemed to keep him on the edge of the seat. The entire music hall must have felt the same because the tension in the air was palpable as you continued to belt out the notes in your song.

When the last chord floated into the air, there was a moment of silence before a roaring of applause was filling the hall. Jakurai found himself standing with the others, giving you an ovation as he clapped whole-heartedly.

He was impressed and wanted to hear more.

It was difficult to find much information about you online and Jakurai felt disheartened as he realized that the next time he would be able to see you (or hear you) would be at another showcase. Every time a new lineup was announced, Jakurai would scan the list for your name

About a week after your initial performance, Jakurai found that you were performing again. This time the venue was smaller, but it was still an impressive gig and he immediately marked it on his calendar.

That night, Jakurai made his way to the venue with something that could only be considered excitement. It wasn’t often that he felt this way, and most certainly not for other people, but he found himself thinking of you more and more.

Of course, he would never assume to know more about you than he did – you had never met him and he didn’t know anything about you. However, you had deeply impressed upon him the beauty of your singing and if that was attainable, he felt as though he needed it.

Jakurai glanced around the smaller hall and spotted an empty table closer to the stage. Once he took his seat, it was simply a waiting game. Waiting for the other acts to come and go, some more impressive than the others, until finally, your name was announced.

Jakurai’s eyes watched you closely as you slowly made your way onto the stage, looking out at the crowd before you. If you were nervous at all, it was not noticed as you smiled at the crowd before you.

“Good evening, everyone,” you began, keeping your tone calm. “My name is Y/N, Y/L/N, and I’ll be performing an original composition,” you explained before turning towards the piano player and nodding at him to begin.

Jakurai’s jaw nearly dropped as you began to sing.

Your voice was not the booming, powerful one he had heard before, but was now light and airy and almost angelic. The stark contrast in your vocal tone and abilities was incontrovertible and Jakurai was immediately stunned. He was not an easy man to surprise, but you had done so nevertheless.

He continued to listen to your soft, heartfelt song and, as he listened to the somewhat sad lyrics, he felt a sense of longing overcome him. He was in complete awe at your ability to convey emotion through your voice.

The rest of the room once again agreed as they all gave you a roar of applause once the song was ended. Jakurai joined in with the clapping and shook his head as he continued to marvel at what he had just heard.

“Ugh, aren’t they amazing? They’re new to the scene too.”

Jakurai’s eyes narrowed as he turned non-chalantly to the couple that was sitting closest to him. They were talking about you and he wanted to know more.

“Such a shame about their eyes though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you couldn’t tell? Yea, they’re blind.”

Jakurai’s eyes widened as he heard what they had said, but he made no move to interrupt their conversation.

Were you really blind? Jakurai had helped many patients with blindness before, but he did not know anyone personally who suffered from it. He could only imagine what that must be like for you as he thought back to your performance in the concert hall the other week.

Could it be that with your eyesight taken from you, your hearing was more acute? Was that why you were able to do such amazing things with your voice? No, of course you had worked hard to get to where you were and you were talented as well, but still. Jakurai wanted to know more, and he knew exactly what to do.

Once the performances had all ended, some people made their exit while others stayed behind to talk with the performers. Jakurai stayed and was sipping his water when he finally saw you exit the side door. This time, he noticed the small cane in your hand, but it was shrouded from his view as a few people came up to you, praising your performance.

“That was amazing, you did so well!”

“Wow, what a show, good job, Y/N!”

Jakurai watched as you politely bowed to them and had small conversations with each, making your way through the people. Once the others had left, Jakurai made his way over to you with.

“Excuse me, Y/N Y/L/N?” he asked, formally. You looked in his direction and nodded with a smile.

“That’s me,” you hummed, happily. Your voice was melodic and sweet, and it caused the corners of Jakurai’s lips to raise.

“Pleasure to meet you. My name is Jakurai Jinguji. I wanted to tell you that your performance tonight was beautiful,” Jakurai said, his eyes steadily fixed on yours. “I saw you at the concert last week as well and I must say that your musical talents are quite impressive,” he added genuinely, chuckling slightly.

You gave him another smile and laughed a little bit.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you to say,” you responded. “I’m impressed that you came to both of my shows. You must have really liked me,” you added with a wink.

Jakurai looked back at you in surprise and for a moment was glad that you couldn’t see his reaction.

“Oh, no it’s nothing like that, please don’t think that I’m some kind of – ”

He was cut off by the sound of your laughing, although it was quite melodious as well and he rather liked the sounds of it.

“I’m just teasing,” you said, your eyes slightly focused lower. “It was a nice compliment, thank you,” you added. Jakurai was about to respond, but you continued.

“But…your name sounds familiar…” you said, bringing a finger to your chin slightly. “Are you famous? You’re not scouting talent, are you?” you added, laughing once more.

Jakurai smiled slightly and shook his head.

“No, I’m merely a doctor,” he said, waving a hand. Your face lit up before him and you brought your eyes back to land on his.

“That’s right! I think you were mentioned on a radio show I was listening to a while ago!” you exclaimed. “I’m surprised someone as busy as you could make time for something like this,” you added, a little bit more bluntly than you had intended.

Jakurai nodded and hummed at your statement.

“Yes, normally I am quite busy, but I find that attending productions for the arts is rather cathartic for me,” he explained, his voice low and deep. “It’s quite nice to see local talent as well.”

You nodded in agreement.

“I can understand that,” you said. “Music has always been a creative outlet for me, so I understand your position. And thank you for supporting local talent,” you added with a chuckle. “We’d never be able to make it otherwise!”

Jakurai responded with a smile and the conversation continued to flow freely for the next several minutes. Eventually, you were called backstage by someone he could only assume was your manager, but before you left, you made him promise that he would come and support you again.

You were not what he had expected.

When he first found out you were blind, his thoughts were that you would be nervous and rather frail, but in fact it was quite the opposite. You were passionate and blunt and he was rather impressed at your ability to be strong-headed.

You were quite the intriguing character and Jakurai only wanted to know more.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #jakurai jinguji #jakurai #jakurai x reader #jakurai jinguji x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic scenarios #hypnosis mic imagines #hypnosis mic scenarios

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winetae · 4 years

Text

➯ a saint in her halo (m.) 10:21pm

↳ drabble; 2.7k

:: smut, college!au, sunbae!jin

:: phone sex, humiliation

beneath his immaculate appearance and flowery words, no one would expect such filth to spew from his lips

...

or; kim seokjin is simultaneously the best and worst kind of distraction

a/n : this is a sequel to a saint in her halo 3:49pm :)

Late at night, you finally give Seokjin a call.

The memory of your last encounter is still fresh on your mind. Even when you’re not consciously thinking about it - about him - your upper thigh burns like it still remembers the sharp dig of the ballpoint pen rubbing across your bare skin. The constant physical reminder of his touch makes it difficult to concentrate on your everyday activities. It feels like he’s branded you, burned his way into you and made you his. Each time you think you forget, your thigh throbs and heat simmers beneath the surface.

The scrawl of numbers has long since been smudged and erased. To the naked eye, your skin has become a blank canvas once more.

“Call me,” he had said. And God, do you want to.

You don’t work up the courage right away. How can you?

At the time, immediately saving his phone number into your contact list had seemed like a brilliant idea. Now you’re not so sure. Imagination and fantasies are one thing - but in the reality you live in, you aren’t half as bold or confident as you aspire to be. A million reasons stop you, not all of them unfounded - rationality, embarrassment, fear of rejection.

That doesn’t stop you from letting your mind wander, however. The possibility that the call might go well, that it might lead to something else... You sigh, stopping your thoughts before they have time to root themselves deep inside of you and grow into something you can no longer control.

Your friends attempt to urge you into action.

“He gave you his number. I doubt he gave it to you just so you could store it away for safe keeping.”

“What if I read the situation wrong?” You bite your nail. In all honesty, you’re not intentionally trying to be obtuse. Even if you’re unsure as to why, you know deep down that Seokjin’s actions, the way his low voice toyed with you and messed with your insides, are impossible to misinterpret.

“I get it. You like him a lot and don’t want to fuck it up. But if you don’t even try, you’ll never know - and isn’t not knowing worse?”

There’s logic behind the argument, you concede. As the rest of the week stretches on and your mind never fully stops revolving around Seokjin, you start to think that the strange limbo you find yourself stranded in can’t possibly be a crueler fate than rejection. At this point, you don’t feel like yourself anymore, constantly stuck in a phase of uncertainty and hazy arousal. Your thoughts are no longer yours; they belong to Seokjin. All of your half-hearted attempts to banish him from your mind prove to be futile. By diligently trying not to think about him, you only exacerbate the problem.

Perhaps it would be wiser to simply give into your desires instead of driving yourself half-delirious with desire.

Your thumb hovers over the call button more than once. Every time something stops you, whether it be the doorbell ringing, your roommate’s dog barking, the smell of burning toast. There’s always something, always an excuse to back out instead of taking the plunge. You don’t know if these interruptions are supposed to be blessings or curses in disguise. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling you that calling Seokjin is a terrible idea, one that should never be acted upon.

Against the universe’s wishes, you press call. The press of your fingerprint against your screen is quick, too quick to process and too quick to take back. You stare at your phone dumbly as it rings on. It’s finally at the third ring that something akin to panic snaps inside of you. What have you done? But before you can hang up and delete the number from your call log, he picks up.

“Hello?”

Your insides clench. Your thigh burns.

“Sunbae. Hi.” You clutch the phone as you press it against your ear.

“Oh?” On the other side of the line, he perks up, sounding pleased. You can hear him move around until the background voices become muted, like he’s secluded himself to talk to you without any distractions. Knowing that he’s focusing his attention solely on you makes your heart stutter pathetically. “I was starting to think you’d never call.”

“You know who I am?” Only then do you realize you had forgotten to introduce yourself.

“I don’t give out my number often. I remember when I do.” He doesn’t even give you any time to process his words, just proceeds to shamelessly continue on, his voice dropping an octave, “I’ve never - I kept thinking about last time. I thought you would call that night.”

“Oh.” There’s a lump in your throat you struggle to swallow down. “I was - busy. Had an assignment due. Sorry.”

“Don’t. I’d expect nothing less from a good girl like you,” he chuckles. “I’m happy to talk to you now.”

Your gulp is audible. There it is again - the praise. Except this time you can’t help but feel like you don’t deserve it. If he knew what sort of salacious thoughts ran through your head all day, maybe he’d change his mind.

“I’m not.”

“What?”

“I mean.” You backtrack, voice small. “I’m not as good as you think.”

“Oh?”

You shut your eyes tight. You’re so embarrassed you might die on the spot. Never in your life have you attempted to say something so brazen. While it’s definitely not as risqué as the pick-up lines you’ve heard your peers employ, it’s so out of character that your friends would probably all freak out if they discovered that you were flirting with Seokjin - one of the most confident and self-assured people on campus, who had a good half of its population chasing after him. In other words, not only is he not in your league, but you’re way out of your depth.

Seokjin gently coaxes you out your inner ramblings by saying your name once or twice.

“Are you alone right now?” he says, his voice smoother than the fanciest silk dress.

“Yes, I’m, um... My roommate won’t be home for another hour.”

You bite your nail, wondering why you would offer that last bit of information up unprompted. In hindsight, it seems awfully forward, almost like you’re hoping for something to happen. Are you? What do you want to happen?

He hums in response. Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down. You can feel it knock against your ribs, shaking your core.

“An hour is—” you stop yourself before you can finish. Can you really say this?

“Is?” Seokjin encourages.

Idly, you wonder how he’s able to do that - coax you out of your shell and get you to say things you’d normally never dare utter. Maybe hiding behind a phone call makes you reckless and brave. There’s no one present to witness you make a fool of yourself. No one except for Seokjin - but he’s been nothing but kind and patient.

You let out a shaky breath and steady your heart. Somehow, you know that even if you still lack the skills to pull this off, Seokjin will refrain from poking fun at you. That piece of knowledge is enough to steel your nerves and give you the final push you need.

“Is an hour enough to play with me?”

A more experienced girl would’ve made the phrase sound seductive and enticing. Your clumsy attempt is evidently less alluring than what you’d been aiming for but Seokjin, surprisingly, seems affected all the same.

He exhales sharply before chuckling, the rumbling sound doing strange things to your insides. “Cute.”

Cute? You’d been hoping for ‘sexy’.

“What are you wearing right now?”

The question catches you off-guard. You glance down and frown at the sight. You’d thrown on an old pair of shorts and a tank top as soon as you’d gotten home. Should you lie and say you’d worn a sheer negligee instead? You don’t want to ruin Seokjin’s fantasy but you have a feeling that even if you fibbed, you’d be found out in an instant.

“It’s really nothing special...” You squirm, limbs twisting in the sheets as you try to find a more comfortable position. Talking with Seokjin makes you restless. “Just a tank top and shorts. Ah, but—”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Maybe it won’t make a difference but you have nothing to lose at this point, right?

“I’m not - I don’t have a bra on.” In the back of your mind, you’re grateful Seokjin can’t see how flustered you are right now. You’re certain his presence would have made it worse.

There’s a brief silence, too long for your liking, before Seokjin finally speaks up.

“You said you wanted to play a game with me?”

“Yes.” Your throat feels dry. Although you suspect he already knows, you do your best not to gulp too loudly, unwilling to make your nervousness apparent.

Not even a week ago, you’d been just another girl he knew who admired him from afar. Too shy to strike up an actual conversation with him, you’d been content with attending the same class together. Who would’ve known you’d be here on the phone with him now? The idea is so surreal that you’re tempted to pinch yourself awake.

“Good. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you’ve been a bad girl?”

Coming from anyone else, the words would have made you cringe. You suppose that’s the main difference between you and him - he actually has the suaveness to pull such acts off.

“Well—” You can do this. You wet your bottom lip, aware of how chapped your lips are - nothing like Seokjin’s plump mouth, pink and lush. “I’ve been - I’ve thought about you a lot.”

“I’m flattered.” He sounds smug and not all that surprised. “What were you thinking of?”

“I -” A shiver runs down your back. “Just. You know.”

“If you want to play, you have to follow my rules,” he says gravely. “Tell me what you were thinking of unless you want to see how I deal with bad girls.”

Your eyes widen. Secretly, the promise of punishment excites you terribly.

Seokjin catches on and laughs, short and airy. “You that interested in finding out?”

“I’m - no.”

He hums in reply. “Tell you what - if you really want to find out, I can show you. But I think you’ll find that the rewards I give are much sweeter than my punishments.”

You stretch your toes, silently weighing the pro and the cons. A selfish part of you wants it all - the rewards, the praise, the punishment, everything. You’d take whatever he’s willing to give, like a glutton with no notion of moderation.

“I thought of your fingers. And, um, I thought of them touching me. Under my skirt. Like last time, b-but —” Your fingers played with the wrinkles of your loose shorts. “Higher.”

Seokjin makes a pleased noise that vibrates low in his throat. “Good girl. Tell me more. Did you think of me touching your pussy in class, hm? Is the thought of me playing with your pussy in front of all our classmates what gets you wet?”

You moan, the sound surprising yourself. In the privacy of your shared bedroom, you close your eyes and let his crude words wash over you. Your underwear feels sticky already, and you rub your thighs together, hoping that it’ll somewhat alleviate the throbbing ache between your legs.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Seokjin groans, and with the phone pressed up against your ear, it feels like he’s right next to you.

“Yes.” Arousal clouds your mind and makes confessing easier. “I’d let you play with my pussy all you want.”

“Is that so? You’d let me use you? Be my good toy?”

“Yes!” You agree greedily. “Please?”

“Are your nipples hard? Can you see them through your shirt?”

You glance down, and, sure enough, your nipples are visible through the thin tank top. You tell him so, happy to listen to him groan in approval.

“When we end this call, be my good girl and send me a picture. I want to see you with your shirt still on, all horny from the thought of me playing with your pussy in public. God, that’s hot.”

“Sunbae.” One of your hands tentatively reach for the waistband of your shorts. “Can I - can you give me permission to touch myself?”

“Lose the shorts,” he agrees.

You hurriedly comply, wondering if he’s also going to touch himself. Or maybe he’s already getting himself off? The thought makes your cunt clench.

“Bend your legs and spread them wide for me.” He waits until you’ve assured him you’re in the position he wants. “Good kitten. Is your pussy wet? You can touch yourself but only over your panties.”

“Ugh, fuck.” Your legs twitch as you slide your fingers along your clothed slit. “There’s a wet patch. Ah!”

You’d always been sensitive, but never to this degree. You feel like you could cum from the slightest touch to your clit.

“You sound like you’re close. You must really love the idea of my fingers fucking your wet, little pussy. What would your classmates say if they found out such a sweet, shy little kitten was playing slut in the back of the classroom? Hm? They’d turn around and see you spreading your legs wide for me, riding my fingers desperately while wishing it was my cock instead.”

He paints the picture with such ease that you can’t help but wonder if he’s thought about it before - secluded in the back of the classroom, his fingers stuffed deep in your pussy as you struggle to muffle your sounds of pleasure.

“Oh, oh, I—” Your fingers dug into your sodden underwear as you imagined yourself in that scenario. Shit. Your fantasies seem tame in comparison to the filth coming out of his mouth.

“Gonna cum hard for me, kitten?” He asks. “What is it that’s pushed you over the edge? The thought of me using your pussy? The promise of my cock filling you up afterwards? Or is it the idea of everyone finding out that you’re not a good girl, but a desperate little slut who likes to be fucked in public?”

Maybe - maybe it’s all three. You don’t have time to analyze what the answer is. Seokjin barely finishes his sentence before your body seizes up in a long, hard orgasm that leaves the ends of your toes tingling. Your back arches off the bed, your hard nipples straining against the cotton material of your top. Through it all, you think you might’ve heard Seokjin reach completion, but you’re so wracked with pleasure you can’t be sure.

The haze doesn’t lift right away. You hear Seokjin’s heavy breathing in your ear and with your eyes closed it almost feels like he’s laying right here with you. Honestly, you don’t know what tomorrow will bring - if this game can continue or not. If he’d been serious about a next time. You know, however, that for you nothing will be the same as before. You can never go back to silently pinning after the popular upperclassman. Now that you’ve had a taste of him, you fear you’ve become addicted.

#writing this made me h word #thank u for requesting this !!#seokjin #i did not reread this not even to proofread so !#sorry if there are any mistakes

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fatbottombucky · 5 years

Text

Clingy Hearts *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Summary: [Trope] Person A over hears Person B complaining about A’s clingyness.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x [F]Reader

Rating: [+18] Mature Content

Warnings: Slight angst, S U P E R FLUFFYY!! Implied sexy times at the end, like a bit of foreplay happens but yeah

“I don’t know how you put up with it, man,” Bucky looks up from his phone, an eyebrow raise towards his friends, “Y/N? She hasn’t stopped texting you and it’s only 11 am,” Sam remarks and nudges Steve to agree.

Bucky snaps his eyes to his bestest friend, only Steve holds his hands up in defence and quickly shovels the cereal into his mouth. His attention returns to Sam, normally he’d brush off comments made by the man- after all, it’s their friendship to hate each other. Yet, this comment Bucky couldn’t just let slide because it involves you.

“I mean she just misses me,” Bucky mutters and glances down at the text conversation, an adorable picture of you and his support dog, Charu, laying on the shared bed, plus a few back and forth texts that accumulated through the morning.

Sam let out a wheeze, “Dude, it’s been what? An hour? Plus she works here too, she’ll be walking through these halls in twenty minutes, what’s there to miss?” A low hum of agreement comes from Steve, who only shovels more cereal into his mouth. “She’s just…”

Bucky sits up straight, “What?”

“Clingy,” Sam sighs and Bucky frowns, “she’s just always around, always in your personal bubble and constantly touching you,” he explains with sincerity, “it’s cute, I guess, but the girl is kinda full on. In your lap, constantly texting you when apart. If she was my girl I’d be itching for some time apart,” an airy chuckle leaves the man.

Clingy. From how Sam said it, it seems like a bad word. Something no one should be. It makes Bucky frown for a moment, lost in thought over this conversation. In actual fact, he’s the clingy one with the constant touching and wanting you nearby, he likes the limited space because he feels wanted then. He subtly initiates hand-holding, lap sitting and any form of touching, he just likes holding you.

As for the texting that’s Bucky’s fault too because he loves being able to talk to you when you aren’t around. They didn’t have this back in his time, texting and FaceTime, it’s all new to Bucky and he’s loving it. He’ll text you randomly, FaceTime you when working out and call you when away.

Bucky is the clingy one.

“Does it annoy you?” Steve asked whilst leaning against the kitchen counter, now done with his second breakfast.

“Should it?” His voice rising with the question because is it really that bad?

Both men nod, “Yeah, it’s kinda ridiculous how clingy she is. She’s like glued to you,” Steve finally voices his opinion, “but if you like it then… forget Sam said anything.”

“I imagine she sleeps close to you also,” Sam chuckled and Bucky nods, “do you ever get time for yourself? Bucky, the only time I see you without her is on a mission, she’s like an extra limb or something, doesn’t that bother you at all?”

And Bucky was backed into a corner like a frightened dog. His friends listing ways to subtly lower the contact, to help discuss the ‘situation’ with you and develop some ‘healthy boundaries’. He silently listened to them, nodding softly along to their words and chewing his bottom lip, this isn’t something he wants but too awkward to admit he’s the clingy one- considering they’re berating you for it.

“I’ll talk to her, I guess,” Bucky mutters and sips his now cold coffee, hoping that’ll end the conversation and it does.

What he thought was over, it was far from it. You had heard almost every word of the conversation, arriving early to work and just happening to pass the kitchen, their loud voices enticed you but their conversation made you hang back. A longing for Bucky to stick up for you, to admit he liked your ‘clingyness’.

You didn’t even realise you were clingy, it wasn’t a word you’d use to describe yourself or your relationship with Bucky. You just liked spending time with him and being close to him, he always made you feel safe and loved.

After hearing this though, you feel naive and a little stupid. If you knew Bucky disliked all of this then you wouldn’t have done it, if he needed boundaries then he should’ve said from the beginning, heck, you even created boundaries- why hadn’t he? You decided that you’d give Bucky the distant he wanted by going straight to work and switching your phone on silent.

Odd and strange are words Bucky would use to describe his day. He hadn’t seen you, which was odd, and you ignored his texts which was strange. He hated it. Bucky hated the lack of communication on your end, so he decided to hunt you down.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky smiles when seeing you sat at your desk, he rests his arms on the smooth surface and dazzlingly smiles at you, “I text you but you didn’t reply,” he tilts his head when looking at you.

You glance up from your computer screen, “I didn’t want to bother you,” he frowns a little, “plus working, not exactly appropriate to be texting you,” that never bothered you before, did Tony say something? “Did you need something?” You asked with a smile.

“Uh-no, see you later?” He asked a little unsure and you nodded, a smile that didn’t really light up your features like it usually does.

He leans over the desk and plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, very odd indeed. His mind reeled with thoughts and feelings has he done something to upset you? Were you having a bad day and just needed some space? Was he just overthinking things?

The day was long and hard, mostly stressful on his end. He couldn’t focus, always glancing at his phone and even waiting for you at lunch- the only text he received was one saying you were going out with friends instead.

He’s done something wrong. He’s upset you. You dislike him right now.

“Guys,” Bucky walks into the gym, “Y/N hasn’t text me all day and she went out for lunch,” he exasperated.

His two friends cheered, high fiving one another. Thinking this was a celebration, that Bucky had spoken his thoughts and laid down the law to you.

“You seem upset,” Steve observes as Bucky stares at his phone screen.

It only takes a look, one simple fearful look from Bucky for Rogers to know what’s up. To understand what’s happening, to realise that Bucky craves you- he’s the clingy one, and you just fuel it because you’re just as clingy.

“They’re both clingy,” it’s a statement to Wilson, Bucky looks back and forth between the men, “I think she might’ve overheard us, buddy. Nat talked about how she arrived early and was… off,” he shrugged sympathetically to his oldest friend, “sorry, we’ll go explain everything-“

“No,” Bucky cuts off Steve with a shake of his head, “I didn’t exactly navigate that conversation well, in fact, I agreed with you; I shouldn’t have, fuck sake, Barnes,” he reprimands himself.

Sam crosses his arms, “why did you agree? You could’ve just said to us that you’re overbearing, I would have agreed with that too.” Bucky frowns at Sam, “dude, you’re overbearing, she can look out for herself,” and Bucky only sighs. “Listen, imma say this once and never again, she’s good for you. Sorry I stuck my nose in, you just seem like the type who wants detachment but clearly she’s a blanket of comfort.”

Bucky smiles at Sam, an effortless smile and a loving one. They have their moments, Sam thinks he’s a know it all when it comes to this stuff, and sometimes he does have good advice- advice he takes but never tells Sam.

“Go,” Sam shoos him away, “fix things with your girl. She’s probably missing you stupid face,” Steve chuckles at Bucky flipping the bird to Sam as he exits and goes home.

The apartment is silent, except for the low volume of the television. You’re sat on the sofa, legs up on the coffee table and Charu cuddled up to your side. His dog sits up at the quiet sounds of entry, jumping off the sofa and running over to her companion, a soft howl of greeting.

“Hey, girl,” he pets her head softly, her thick fur instantly brining easiness to him, a comforting feeling of home and safety. He walks around the sofa with her, watching you with intensity as he sits down a little beside you- leaving an inch of space something he isn’t used to with you. “Y/N?” He asked gently, prying your eyes from the screen, “are you mad at me?”

The question is simple. So is the answer, he already knows it but he asks anyway.

He stutters a bit, a nervous edge to him, “I know you heard the conversation this morning.”

Your shoulders tense, you look away guilty for being caught earwigging. You bite your bottom lip, a nervous habit, you sneak a glance at your boyfriend.

“You aren’t clingy,” Bucky affirms, “well you are but so am I,” you frown slightly and he sighs, “I love you. I love us. We’re clingy, we crave each other’s touch in a crowded room, we text when only being apart for a few hours. I love it. I - just- I don’t know, I felt insecure and Sam made it seem like a bad thing. I’m sorry,” his speech is rushed and clogy, but it makes you smile.

“Not talking to you all day has been so hard,” you admit with a giggle, the sound raises Bucky to Earth. “Being away from you, I really hate it. Hearing you agree with them… Don’t make me feel like that again, okay?”

Bucky can only nod, the hurt in your voice makes Bucky mad at himself for doing that. He gently caresses your face with his hands, moving hair from your face as he leans down. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but gentle on your own. The kiss breathes an unspoken promise to never hurt you again, to never let you feel like he doesn’t love all of you.

Without breaking the kiss he pulls you to him, straddling his lap and he swiftly stands up, hands gripping your bottom tightly as he strides towards the bedroom. You smile into the kiss, deepening it with a bite of his bottom lip and fighting for dominance that Bucky wins easily.

A gentleness that only comes from Bucky when with you, he lays down on the bed softly, pulling his lips away and just staring at you longingly. A look of disbelief and love runs through his grey eyes.

The look has you becoming shy, you feel the blood rush to your face as he just stares at you softly. You caress his jaw and that brings him back, a simple touch has him remembering this is real. You’re real. He begins to undress you, kissing your heated skin when it’s revealed to him.

His large hands are everywhere all over your body and pinching gently. His touch isn’t rough or hard- like most times- this time it’s feather light, almost fleeting. He holds you to him, bearing no space between your bodies as his skilled fingers dance down your body. The touch creating goosebumps in their awake, slinking to the apex of your thighs. He leaves wet kisses on your neck as you whine softly.

Once bringing you to a blissful sedation, for a second time, he wraps his arms around you tightly as he enters but drops his head down to leave a kiss right where your heart is. The moment is so intimate and sweet, far from anything you’ve shared with him before, you gasp softly and card your fingers through his hair.

The evening is filled with soft kisses, gentle touches and whisperings of “I love you’s” to one another.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut

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imaginesmai · 5 years

Text

Tony Stark-Whatever it takes

This was kind of requested by @hulksmashin-bannerpackin, since I hadn’t thought about writting a second part and she proposed! This is a second part of this fic, although it can be read as its own. There is a time gap. I hope you enjoy it!

Plot: something in Tony’s gut tells him that this recording is neccesary. He doesn’t want to think about it, but he does it anyways.

Tony struggled to sit down, the constant pain on his back that he had gotten over the past five years weighting him down. Slowly, he slid against the cream paper wall you had chosen for the living room of the cabin in the woods. In his opinion, it had been ugly, unfashion and quite boring. But one look from you had been enough for him to nod excitedly about the colour of the wall.

He smiled at the memory. Lately, he had been gifted with tons of happy memories. Your weeding, in that beach where Rodhey had fallen in the sand. The birth of your daughter, Morgan, and her constant joy. She made his heart beat a little bit faster, the same way you had kept him alive for so many years. The family meetings, his fixed relationship with Steve, the new will of waking up every morning. Tony Stark had built a lot of new memories over the past five years, where he had decided step aside from being Ironman and enjoy life the way it was presented to him.

The first months had been difficult. After the blip, the snap, everything had changed. Tony’s brain felt like someone had pressed the fast forward button on a remote, while it was on pause. The world around him seemed to zip by, while he was slowly pulled through a murky haze.

I don’t wanna go. I don’t want to go. Mr Stark, pleas, please. I don’t want to go, sir, please…

His heart had broken at the kid’s words. Then, it had been broken again when the realisation of being in a spaceship with you, pregnant with his kid, hit him. The fear and the anxiety had been stuck on his brain since then, and had made him wake up with night terrors every few months. Luckily, you had been there to hold him; but they didn’t go away. And that was the main reason why he was sitting against the wall of his living room, only a dim light filling the place, pyjamas pants on.

Tony had put Morgan to sleep an hour ago. The little girl had been up while he worked on time travel, and had heard him say shit when he had discovered how to bring everyone back. On the other side of the house, you were sound asleep on your side of the bed, his sweater covering your torso. He had kissed your forehead before closing the door and walking downstairs.

If he was really going to do that, he needed to be alone. He wanted to cry and he hadn’t even started.

“Fri?” he asked, voice low. “You ready?”

“Yes, sir. Whenever you’re ready”

Was he? Tony Stark knew the answer. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye; he never wanted to say goodbye to you, the woman that had given him everything. Or to his daughter, the girl who had made him believe in happiness. But he had to do it.

The decision had come to him seconds after he had figured time travel. If he was really going to go back in time, he had to do it well. They were traveling to the past, then coming back, and finally, if they were lucky, fight Thanos or whatever the destiny had for them. He was scared shitless; but if any of those things helped to create a safer world for you, his daughter, and his lost kid, he would do it.

So he had decided to make a kind of video diary, in case something happened. In case things went south, and you had to put Morgan to bed without his bedtime stories. He didn’t want to think about it; everything was going to be just fine, he was going to come back and take care of his family. Maybe, even propose you to have a second kid. Yeah, that sounded really cool.

Tony smiled one last time, breathing deeply, before signalling to FRIDAY she could start recording.

A faint blue light came out of the small device in front of him. It shinned brightly for a second, so bright that he had to close his eyes. When he could finally open them, the light had gone softer and there was a soft humming noise in the living room

“Delete that later, Fri” he whispered, listening to the mechanical answer of the AI. He wished you would be there, holding his hand and telling him that it wasn’t necessary. But that wasn’t possible; if you knew, you would come too, and he couldn’t think about that. “Hey Y/N. I really hope you don’t have to see this. It’s just-It’s a stupid feeling, might not be right”

A stupid feeling that had to be with the inevitable truth that Doctor Strange had given up willing the stone to Thanos. He had said it was the only way, and he had lost the kid. So, if what they were going to do was the right path, Tony could only imagine what would cost him.

Whatever it takes, right?

“Don’t feel bad about this, it was my decision. You know I have quite the hero-complex, you knew what you were marrying” Tony tried to chuckle, but came out as a sad laugh. He wanted to seem happy, if that was going to be the last thing you were going to see of him. So he picked himself up and smiled at the camera. “You know, part of the journey is the end. And I couldn’t be more glad of what I got to live in that journey.”

Somehow, Tony wished he was back in the spaceship. He had recorded himself a few times there, for Rodhey, Steve and Happy. But you had been there, and it had been easier. Also, the galaxy calmed him down. It amazed him that the only thing separating him from the unknown had been a thin piece of glass. Its beauty could only be compared with yours.

“If… if you’re seeing this it means something has happened to me” he sighed, fidgeting with a small tool on his hand. “Just for the record, it’s highly improbable. I have something to come back to, I have my happiness and heart here, and I won’t do anything dangerous. Unless your safety or future is on the line. If it’s, please, don’t blame yourself.”

Tony’s heart hurt. It was not the type of hurt of Afghanistan, or of when Pepper had left him because of being too intense. Neither it was like the pain he felt when the kid was turned into ash, or when he had to wait for the results of your baby health once you were back in Earth. It felt deeper, as if someone was stabbing him with thousands of needles.

“You’ve given me everything I’m today, Y/N” he had to stop himself from looking away; you didn’t deserve that. “I… I’m a better man now. An it’s all thanks to you, thanks to your love and Morgan. I can’t picture my future, my life, if it isn’t with you. I love you. And I love Morgan”

The first tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn’t bother to stop the video and start again. He had learned that it wasn’t worthy to hide his feelings from you. You understood him, you loved him enough for him to not feel ashamed about it. So Tony let the tear fall down his chin, until it landed on his t-shirt.

“I hope that, in my loving memory, you keep respecting your bedtime and keep your room tidy. I officially give permission to mom to sell all of your toys away. I already left her the number of the charity organization, so you better behave, Morg. I love you baby. Don’t ever forget that”

He pictured your smile. The way your lips curved slightly when he made a bad science pun, or when he ended up with a mess in the lab. Rosy cheeks when he complimented you, or when he put the weeding ring on your finger just after you gave birth. That was without any doubt his favourite smile; the one you gave him before fainting in the hospital bed in exhaustion.

“And to Rodhey. Man, I’m so grateful for the things you have put up with. Not everyone can stand me the way you’ve done” Tony smiled. “You’re worth more than what Ironman will ever do. Thanks for being always there for me. And I love you too, even if I don’t say it that much”

He thought about your laugh. The light airy chuckle you made when you were embarrassed about something he did in public, as climbing on a desk just to admire how beautiful you were that night. Or the incontrollable fit of laugher that hit you every now and then and that you tried to hide on his shoulder. A lively and vivacious laugh that seemed to echo around him, and light his darkest days.

“I really hope Peter can see this” Tony said, jaw tightening. “I’ve… made some mistakes over the years. All of them because I was too blind to see how pure and good you are. You’re more than welcome to be a part of this family. Morgan is dying to meet you, and Y/N has a room prepared for you. I’m… proud of you kid. I’ll be always proud of who you are.”

He envisioned the way you held him when the nights became rough. The way you wrapped both arms around his back and pull your bodies close together, whispering sweet words of encouragement on his ear. The way you locked your arms around him in the tightest hug, that in the last five years had added a third person, a baby who managed to grab both of your attention and love. The way your fingers and hands ran up and down his scalp, massaging his head until he fell asleep on the coach.

“And to Y/N… I don’t have enough time to tell you all the things you deserve” Tony let a second tear run down his cheek. “You deserved much more than me, yet decided that a broken mechanic with nightmares, anxiety and an alcohol problem was your type. Thank you for showing me to love and to be loved. If… if anything happens, I’ll think about you. Because you’re the light in my life, it would be only logic if you were the light at the end of the tunnel”

Tony remembered the way your lips would attach to his own. The first time he had kissed you, was in a celebration. Full of important people, famous actors and singers and a bunch of avengers. It had been the faintest peck on your lips, in front of all of them; and you had shouted at him until he had to cover his ears. Tony thought of the way your tongues would fight against each other, in the mores passionate embrace. All the goodbye kisses before the missions, the good morning ones and the just because I wanted.

“It’s… It’s has always been you, Y/N. I love you” he smiled one last time, and there was a pregnant pause.

Everything was silent in the house, and, for Tony, the video had a full meaning then. But he wasn’t going to let you know that he suspected how it was going to end, so he clapped his hands and got up.

“But this is just a feeling. Something stupid the brain does when it’s anxious about a situation. Tomorrow is going to go well and we’ll be happy forever, with two kids making our hairs go grey” Tony laughed, and walked towards the recorder. “Maybe a third, if everything goes right? I mean, Peter is not ours but it’s nothing a few papers can’t fix”

His hand shook when he reached for the camera, and he showed the unshed tears on it. Stopping for a second, he found nothing but happiness and calm on his mind. He wasn’t sad, wasn’t mad at the destiny for not letting him enjoy his family or afraid of what was yet to come.

He felt glad that he had gotten to share his journey with you.

“Love you 3000”

Tony smiled one last time to the camera, showing no fear; only happiness and a faint glint of love. He turned carefully off the record button and shut off the device.

That night, Tony Stark laid down on bed and wrapped himself around you tighter, shushing you when you asked if something was wrong. He got up a few hours before the sun just to make love to you for three times. That morning, Tony Stark prepared an amazing breakfast and invited everyone over. They had a wonderful time and he spent a few hours just playing around with you and Morgan.

When the time came, he kissed you for a little longer; until Morgan made a disgusting noise and demanded the attention of his father. Then, he hug her until she was moaning about being too tight.

When Tony looked at you for the last time, he smiled. He winked at his daughter, and later he would hug Rodhey and Peter, muttering how proud he was of the both of them.

And in his last breath, he saw you with opening arms, and he smiled. Because you were safe, his family was safe and he couldn’t have been more happy.

Whatever it takes.

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siribear · 4 years

Text

‘what are your plans after this?’ whisper asks, nursing her cup still half full. she blinks once, twice, already feeling a little tipsy. maybe she shouldn’t have gone for the moonshine after two hundred and eleven years of not having a hard drink. ‘not... specifically this drink, you know, but,’ she twirls a finger in a circle, ‘in general.’

maccready lifts his cup to his lips with a chuckle. he’s at least 2 cups in and he’s not acting like the room is spinning. it’s - kinda not fair. totally not fair. ‘now that the gunners are off my tail, i can head back to goodneighbor and pick up more jobs.’ he drinks. ‘hopefully.’

whisper leans toward him, steadying herself with an arm on the bar. ‘hopefully. you said you needed money to buy out the gunners. what’re you aiming for now?’

his seat squeaks loudly as he fidgets. ‘i - ’ he sighs, looks to vadim. his voice goes low and rough, ‘i have a son.’ he smiles. ‘his name’s duncan.’

she tilts her head. ‘i don’t remember seeing him.’

‘no. no, he’s in the capital wasteland.’

capital wasteland... ‘like, d.c.? i went there once. long time ago.’ she blinks. ‘why’s he... there.’ she motions with her hands. ‘but you’re here?’

he chuckles again. ‘you okay there, boss? you haven’t even finished one glass.’

‘spectacular. don’t even feel a thing,’ she says quickly, absolutely not slurring. ‘your son?’ because maybe she’s projecting. maybe.

‘he’s sick.’ maccready looks around, gauging if anyone else is listening. but whisper knows the only one that’s been paying attention to them is vadim, and maybe the waitress but only in a business sense. she’s tipsy, not oblivious. ‘these blue... boils started appearing on his skin. i met a guy whose friend had the same sickness. there’s a cure, but it’s in the basement of the med-tek research building.’

‘so, what, you’re gonna pay someone to go get it? what if they, like, take off with it?’ she sits straight up. ‘oh! hey. i’ll do it!’

he coughs heavily, drink caught in his throat. ‘are you-are you serious?’

‘yeah, absolutely!’ she slides out of her stool and leans toward him. hands cupping his face, she tells him, ‘this is your son, maccready. i’m gonna help you.’

maccready clears his throat. ‘i, uh. okay.’

she removes her hands from his face, puts them firm on her hips. ‘great. deal.’ a beat. ‘because i might need help fighting a sea monster.’

he bursts into laughter, at that. ‘hey, that seems fair to me. when are we heading out?’

‘ah. well, i want to know what the brotherhood is doing here in their fuck-off big airship, y’know? so probably after that.’

‘want me along for this one?’

she shakes her head, momentarily amused by her ponytail swinging back and forth against her neck. ‘i think deacon and i can handle some talking.’ the world tilts. her smile is a little lopsided. ‘how about we pick you up from sanctuary? if you tell sturges about your son, i’m sure he can pick out a spot for you guys to settle down.’

he lowers his cup from his lips. ‘settle down?’

‘obviously. unless you want to raise your son in goodneighbor. no offense to hancock, of course,’ she adds. ‘i wouldn’t raise shaun in goodneighbor. it smells.’

‘it smells,’ he repeats, mocking. ‘you know, i hadn’t considered bringing him to the commonwealth. but... sanctuary might be safe enough...’ he trails off.

‘i’m making it safe enough,’ she declares. ‘it has to be safe enough.’

‘for your son?’ he ventures.

she leans forward again. ‘yes. for my baby.’ when she frowns, maccready stiffens. ‘it has to be safe enough.’

‘okay. okay, i believe you. don’t... cry, or anything. please.’

whisper bumps her fist against his shoulder. ‘i’m not gonna cry. i’m your boss, right? don’t worry about me.’

she doesn’t miss his raised eyebrow. in response, he simply orders her a glass of water. when she asks, he says, ‘i know the brotherhood. they’re a headache enough without a hangover.’

‘celebrating without me, partner?’

‘deacon!’ deacon watches her face light up and allows himself to relish in it for just a moment. her eyes are fever bright, and she gives him the biggest grin. ‘maccready stopped me from drinking. tell him he’s boring.’

‘you’re boring,’ he replies, dutifully.

maccready finishes his swig of nuka cola, pulling away from leaning against the bar. ‘she only had one drink.’

whisper pouts prettily, looking from deacon to maccready and back. her shoulders slump, and she looks up to him with fluttering eyelashes. ‘i’m not drunk, though. deacon, tell him i’m not drunk.’

deacon opens his mouth, planning to back up his partner, but - oh, man. she’s kinda drunk. and one drink? he looks to maccready who looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to echo his partner. instead, he redirects. ‘got something for you here, pal.’

her mood rebounds immediately. oh, yeah, not drunk at all. ‘wait. this isn’t some, like,’ she wiggles her fingers at him, ‘uh, i don’t-i don’t know.’ maccready’s snort goes unnoticed by her. ‘what is it?’

he unfolds his hands from behind his back, bringing forward a pair of sunglasses. it’s different from his square pair; his whisper’s got herself a pair of patrolman’s sunglasses, courtesy of fallon’s basement. sure, becky fallon probably hates him for just buying sunglasses, but the excitement on whisper’s face makes it worth it.

not to mention the kiss on the cheek it earns him. leaving that one out of the mission report, for sure.

‘no present for me?’ maccready shatters the moment, shit-eating grin back on his face.

whisper saves him, mock pushing maccready by the shoulder. ‘no presents for the boring.’ when she dons her shades, all that’s left is her own grin.

in response, maccready sighs and shakes his head. ‘well, i held up my end of the bargain. she’s all yours, friend.’ and when maccready passes behind him, they exchange a small handful of caps. enough to cover their drinks and rooms. whisper still gives maccready a short flutter of her fingers in farewell, no hard feelings held toward the boring. deacon slips into maccready’s now-unoccupied seat and watches his partner. that grin has softened into a smile, and over the din of the bar, he listens to her hum along to the radio.

giving her the glasses turns out to be a tactical error. he’s stuck watching his own reflection watch her. and she notices: ‘you’re staring, deacon. it’s not nice.’

the drunken lilt to her voice is gone entirely. ‘just making sure you’re paying attention. hard to tell where you’re looking with those glasses, now.’

she tilts her head toward him, like a flower to the sun. in a voice high and airy, she says, ‘always you, partner. always you.’

in the morning, maccready leaves them, reminding her to pick him up in sanctuary when she’s ready for that job. ‘i know,’ she had groaned. ‘i wasn’t drunk.’ she rolled her eyes, then her shoulder. ‘at least not enough to forget.’ but he still gives her a quick and unconvinced uh-huh before heading out into the city. lucky for him, he can’t see her glare as he departs.

deacon trails along, filling her in on his visit to hq, on their way to valentine’s agency. whisper figures she owes him an update - he did send her over to the railroad, getting her at least this far. she has to add another location to her to-do list and another marker to her map. the augusta safe house’s status has yet to be determined, after the institute launched its attack. they’re to pick up the location from a dead drop and report back as soon as possible.

whisper pushes the bridge of her glasses down and rubs at a spot on her temple. she may have avoided hangover-headache thanks to maccready (not that she’ll admit), but the mounting tasks she’s taken on has finally begun to grate. take time for yourself, nate had told her in a letter when she told him of her workload. you have to make it to the end alive to enjoy it.

‘feeling all right there?’ deacon asks.

‘never better.’ whisper knocks on valentine’s door and pushes in at the sound of his voice. nick doesn’t fail to notice her new company.

‘made another friend, i see?’ he notes, coming around his desk. ‘it’s been a while. had me worried for a bit, there, kid.’

whisper huffs, smiling. ‘i found who we were looking for.’ she looks over her shoulder to deacon, then back. ‘both of them.’

she watches his eyes shift. ‘knew you’d be the one to find them. you’re with her?’

‘every day.’

nick nods, satisfied, before turning his attention back to her. she’s thankful for the sunglasses when she asks, ‘what about your son?’

‘he’s safe,’ she pauses. ‘in the institute.’ nick swears. ‘but i had a few questions, since kellogg is... no longer able to answer them.’ she wonders why it bothers her so much; she’s killed in the wasteland before kellogg. from raiders, to super mutants, to gunners, but the one that broke her family bothers her? briefly, she wonders how nate carried that guilt with him.

he urges her to continue with a slow nod. ‘i met a synth who could remember what it was like, in the institute. i couldn’t - didn’t want to ask him more than that. the kid was traumatized.’ he was young; made young, likely, but it doesn’t make any sort of difference. he’d been through too much for her to go prying. ‘so i’m wondering, don’t you know where the institute is?’ she steps away, bringing deacon into the conversation. ‘doesn’t any synth?’

nick sighs. deacon sticks his hands in his pockets. but it’s nick that speaks first. ‘there’s a failsafe built in that erases our memories of the institute the moment we leave.’ his hand twitches, fingers curling around an invisible cigarette. ‘that the synth you two rescued remembers anything means his malfunctioned. but i imagine if he knew the location of the institute you wouldn’t be standing here now.’

she sighs. another loss. kellogg wasn’t going to tell her anything, she repeats to herself. still the guilt lingers, as if she could have gotten all her answers if she hadn’t killed him.

‘i had hoped everyone was simply too afraid to go after the institute. but thank you anyway, nick.’

before she turns to leave, he stops her. ‘if there’s anything i can do, you let me know.’ then, to deacon, ‘and you. what we discussed...?’

‘you’ll be the first to know.’ deacon looks to her, then shrugs. ‘probably second. or third - ’

nick holds up a hand. ‘i get it. keep an eye on her until then.’

‘you two know each other?’

deacon whirls her around by the shoulders and leads her to the door. even outside, he doesn’t take his hands from her shoulders, marching her all the way outside diamond city. she prods again. ‘just some other railroad business.’

‘and i can’t know because..?’ she begins, then, at the same time as deacon, says, ‘operational security.’ she affects a heavy sigh. ‘of course. anyway, shall we pay the brotherhood a visit?’

deacon finally lets her go, taking his place beside her. ‘after you, general.’

cambridge police station is alive with commotion once more, though this time the courtyard isn’t swarmed by feral ghouls. soldiers dressed in bright orange flight suits patrol the perimeter, only letting them pass when she introduces herself as the general of the minutemen. inside, she’s met again with the sight of haylen, rhys, and danse standing together, their own closed off circle apart from the chaos that is brotherhood soldiers crowding the station.

‘paladin danse,’ whisper calls, and he turns to her immediately. the paladin hasn’t changed much, since she left. ‘i see your superiors finally made it to the commonwealth.’

he dismisses himself from his squad, pointedly ignoring rhys’s glare at the sight of her. ‘alice. we’ve been listening to your exploits on the radio. good to see you’re still alive.’

she grins, teeth bared. ‘i’m not so sure all of you share that sentiment. at least you’ve not been abandoned to scour the commonwealth alone, or i might have recruited you three myself. yes,’ she says, leaning around danse’s power armor. ‘even you, knight rhys.’

‘elder maxson wouldn’t have left us. but your help in finding the deep range transmitter did enable us to contact them.’ whisper can feel deacon’s gaze boring into the back of her head. ‘unfortunately, we’ve failed to contact the recon team original sent to the commonwealth, but with the force of the brotherhood assisting us, we’ll find them soon.’

she nods. ‘good luck to you, of course.’

‘thank you. now, more importantly: why are you here? the invitation to join the brotherhood was only extended to you.’

‘unfortunately, i’m not here to take you up on that offer, paladin. in fact, i’m acting strictly as the general of the minutemen. i’d like to meet elder maxson.’

he considers her for a moment before giving her a rumbling sigh. ‘fine. but only you. your friend has to stay here at the station.’

whisper holds up a hand before deacon can protest. ‘i don’t think that’s fair, paladin. if i’m going aboard your giant airship to be surrounded by brotherhood soldiers, my bodyguard stays.’

again he sighs, and she wonders if she’s pushing her luck. she could go aboard herself, she doesn’t really think they’ll do anything to her without reason, but having deacon there would make her feel safer. and he’d be free to gather intel himself.

‘fine. but i’ll be watching the both of you closely.’

whisper smiles. ‘we wouldn’t do anything to make you regret it, would we, dingo? i do appreciate the vote of confidence.’

he motions them further into the station, dismissing rhys and haylen to assist the others in gathering the remaining supplies. ‘there’s a vertibird waiting on the roof. it’ll take us directly to the prydwen.’

‘a vertibird up to a flying airship,’ deacon mutters behind her. ‘great.’

whisper reaches behind her, gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze. ‘just don’t look down.’

#oc: alice ward #series: we will all go together when we go #siri drabbles #i am legitimately done looking at this bit #i just got done working 13 days straight so this has taken forever and it's all choppy but #i keep telling myself... rough draft rough draft

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