#i will never talk about the fucked up disturbing things that happened between him and helmut btw bc it is so obvious to me if you do not get

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Daryl Dixon, born to be a sweet mamas boy but forced into severe mommy issues. I will literally bury myself in this grave

Like okay sure the bad biker boy with a dominant streak is hot or whatever but realistically under all those layers of steel and dirt there’s nothing but a damaged boy.

I think about Daryl dating a woman of a motherly nature and how it would utterly fuck with his head. She’s more on the traditional side and usually expresses her love through cooking as well as baking.

At first, he doesn’t like any of it at all. The way you always want to cook for him when he literally didn’t ask you really bothers him, to the point he found himself not eating whatever you made out of sheer stubbornness, not knowing each plate was your indirect way of affection.

He doesn’t like the way you persistently try and get him to talk to you, because why do you even care? Sometimes the two of you will argue and Daryl will just storm away after a string of insults. He feels so gulity afterwards, especially when he knows that he really does need someone to talk to.

The hugs are the worst. The way you suddenly hug him makes his skin burn and he fucking hates it. Not physically, but he pushes you away. It’s what he wants of course, to not be around you and your forced niceness.

It’s what he wants of course, to be alone by himself. No background noises or smells. He can’t hear the way you passionately move around the kitchen or smell the mouthwatering smell of whatever you’re making. That’s what he wants.

When he comes back from a long run, so obviously shaken up and disturbed, there’s nobody to try and pry as to what happened even though he knows he needs to get it off his chest. That’s what he wants of course. He doesn’t need comfort, no. He never did. Never ever.

So why did he need it now?

Daryl thinks about you and how you did so much for him without him even lifting a finger, how you willingly put in the effort and he just threw it all back into your face without a second thought. He thinks about how hurt you he must’ve left you all the times he flat out refused even your prettiest dishes.

He thinks about the concern that etches your face when you practically beg him to talk to you, beg him to tell you what’s wrong so you can maybe help him. Daryl feels his chest tighten when he thinks of how he downright pushed you out his life, and feels a lump forming in his throat when he realizes that he needs you.

He was alone with only himself and his thoughts, ones that frightened him to his very core. He thinks about your hugs and how he yearns to feel the burn of his skin against yours.

Daryl wants to go to you, but he’s scared. He’s scared that you’ve already moved on and found someone better, someone worthy of a woman like you. He scared that you won’t want him anymore yet here he stands, nervously on your porch.

He’s not ready, no event in his life could have prepared him for this. He knocks with a shaky fist and can hear the sounds of his quick breathing.

The door opens just as widely as it always has, you standing there in your apron covered in flour. He thinks about turning around, you’re obviously busy with things much more important with him. As he opens his mouth to speak, you cup his face gently with soft floury hands as if insecpting it.

“Somethings bothering you”

Daryl nods, and he feels like he could melt into your hands.

You usher him inside, closing the front door and shuffling to the couch, dismissing his silent questions about his shoes. He joins you on the couch with a little space between you, he’s not sure how angry you are with him.

Daryl wants to apologize, he wants to beg for you to let him try again and let him do it right this time, but he just can’t find the words, twiddling nervously with his fingers in his lap. You watch him for a moment, reading his limited body movement before reaching up and brushing away a tear Daryl didn’t even know fell.

“Tell me what’s hurting you” You whispered, voice warm and comforting as your fingers danced across his cheek.

He found himself choking on the words, stuttering them out as he slightly flinched away from the contact although he desperately wanted it. “M-m’sorry. Fer being a dick to ya” Daryl mumbled, leaning back towards your hand. “I jus- I got scared”

You raised a brow. “You? Scared? Scared of me?”

He nodded. “I don’ understand wha’ ya want from me”

“I don’t want anything from you, Daryl… I just wanna take care of you and be there for you”

“Why? Why someone like me?” Daryl scoffed. “M’nobody”

“You’re somebody to me” You whispered.

“Wha’ did I do to deserve ya? Ya don’ even know me” He turned to you, the tip of his nose a light red and his eyes glassy.

You took his face between your hands once again, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. “But I do. I see it, Daryl. I can see all the hurt you’ve been through, everything you’ve pushed away, down, all of it. All you’ve ever known is pain and my sweet boy, I’m gonna take it all away for you” You smiled, pressing your forehead against his.

Daryl’s heart pounded so hard that he feared it would exploded, more full of love than its ever had the chance to be. You held him as if he was made of the most fragile glass, brushing your nose against his as he sniffled.

“I love you” Daryl suddenly blurted, because he had denied himself of the truth for so long. He wanted to be with you, wanted you to take care of him.

You gave him another smile, this time placing a gentle kiss to his chapped lips. “And I love you too. Say, I was in the middle of making a cobbler, but I just don’t have anyone to lick the spoon…”

Daryl raised a brow. “Is it peach?”

“Only cobbler I know how ta make” You tugged him off the couch, and he followed you into your beloved kitchen, stepping foot into it for the first time. He thinks about all the times he watched you twirl around, cooking something with love only for him to completely disregard it. The thought made him visibly upset. “Something wrong?”

“Jus’ wish I appreciated yer cookin’ more s’all” He mumbled, regret written on his face, even more when a twinge of hurt painted yours. It was clear as day his past actions really did hurt you.

There was an awkward moment of silence, before you handed Daryl a peach. “As long as you appreciate it now” He could almost cry from how many chances you willingly give you, chances he just didn’t deserve.

“Yeah. M’gon appreciate you too, how I should’ve from tha’ very start” Daryl whispered, biting into one of the sweetest peaches he’s ever had.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

oof I made myself cry and this isn’t even that good 😕😕

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

© norman-fucking-reedus 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, or adpated to any other platform. You may translate my works with my asked and given consent.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #norman fucking reedus #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #twd #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd

[maxiroff]

Truth or dare ~Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Truth and dare leads to unexpected questions and unexpected answers. You show Wanda what true pleasure is really like.

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Words: 3711

Warnings: Smut, fingering

Note: English is not my first language and I have not proofread this so there may be some errors.

Once the party started to die down you, Natasha, Wanda and Carol decided to move up to your shared floor. You and Natasha were spread out on the sofa while Wanda and Carol sat in the armchairs in front of you. Both empty and full beer bottles filled the table in between you. While Starks parties more often than not doesn't have a reason, this one actually did. It was to celebrate that Carol was back on earth and that Wanda finally became an official member of the team.

The drinks had started to get to you all and you wanted to keep the party going between you after everyone left. That's how you started playing truth or dare but with a twist. You could not say no. “Truth or dare Y/N?” said Carol while taking a sip of her drink. “Truth” the grin on her face told you that it was exactly the answer she wanted. “What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you during sex.” The moment she said those words Natasha started laughing her ass off.

“Why are you laughing Nat?” said Wanda with a confused look. “Well lets just say I was there.” “You were?” Wanda said, questioning. You decided to butt in before Natasha could exaggerate the story. “Okay here's what happens. I happened to have ehh, a friends with benefits with one of the recruits we were training, Lucy. We happened to have the gym to ourselves and we took advantage of that. I was standing up and had her sitting on my shoulders, leaning her against the wall while I was fingering her and eating her out. Right as she was about to go over the edge Natasha walked through the door. Of course we didn't notice because Lucy's moaning was so loud so Nat witnessed the whole thing.”

“Damn, was it hot?” Of course it would be Carol who asked such a question. “Carol, you can't ask that.” Wanda said. “Yeah, Yeah it doesn't matter.” she responded. “Okay since you asked me, it's my turn now.” Considering Wanda had never been asked before, and you simply wanted to know, you decided to ask her. “Wanda” her name being said got her attention and she turned to you. “Yes” “Truth or dare?” “Truth” she said with a slight hesitation.

“I know you and Vision were together before, how many orgasms did he give you in one session?” Her cheek immediately reddened at the question and she suddenly thought the floor was very interesting. “He um-” she cleared her throat “He didn't really give me any.” Her body language showed that she was either embarrassed or nervous, her eyebrows were furrowed and she was plucking at her nailbands while she told us the answer.

Her answer didn't make any sense though. They had gotten together shortly after they both joined the team and they only broke up a few months ago. The time they had been together was torture. Remembering all the times they sat snuggled up together on the sofa, giggling and disturbing the team's movie nights. The jealousy had burned through you. You could treat her so much better than he did, he’s a robot bor fucks sake. You had never felt such relief as you did the day you found out they broke up.

“I’m sorry but you're gonna have to make that make sense to us. You were together for like six months, you have to have done something during that time.” While this seemed like normal talk between you, Natasha and Carol, Wanda had never felt more uncomfortable in her life. She was a shy person and would rather keep her romantic life privat. But with all eyes on her she almost felt obliged to answer your question.

“Well he always, you know, finished quite fast and I didnt want him to feel bad about not being able to satisfy me so I just faked it.” Her answer did not surprise you. Once again hes a fucking robot, he probably had a vibranium dick that was smaller than my finger. Could he even feel pleasure and cum like a real person if he is made out of metal.

“What, so he just believed you all that time and you had to finish yourself off.” Natasha’s voice sounded judging, seeing the look on her face she probably was judging her.

Wanda could feel her cheeks redden even more when she thought of the times where she was left unsatisfied by both Vision and her inexperienced hands. To be right at the edge but not able to get over it, to never experience real pleasure. Of course it was embarrassing to admit out loud, especially to you who she admired and liked in a not so friendly way.

She already felt embarrassed enough but the alcohol made her spill her secrets away. With her arms tightly wrapped around her legs the words flew out quietly. “Um no I never really knew what to do so I never got myself there.” She made the mistake of looking up and seeing the shocked look upon all your faces. She never thought she would feel this bad about being inexperienced.

When you saw how uncomfortable she was at the topic you decided to end her misery. “Okej, we are moving on. Wanda your turn.” “Okej Natasha, truth or dare”

With Nat knowing Wanda would choose something vanilla she decided that dare was a safe bet. “Okej, I dare you to sit in Carol’s lap for the rest of the game.” Maybe she’s not that vanilla after all.

Neither Nat nor Carol complained as Natasha happily made herself comfortable in Carol's lap, wiggling her ass as she sat down. “Now it's finally my turn.” She said as she looked mischievously between you and Wanda. Natasha knew of your longtime crush on Wanda and had been waiting for an opportunity to play matchmaker, she was not about to let it go to waste. “Y/N, truth or dare”

“Dare” You said as you lifted your drink to your lips, what's life without a little excitement. Unfortunately you knew you made the wrong choice as Natashas smirk grew a hundred times bigger. “I dare you to give Wanda her first ever orgasm.”

Wanda's eyes almost popped out of her head in surprise, while you choked on your drink. “I’m sorry WHAT!” Telling Nat about your crush was obviously a mistake and if looks could kill she wouldn’t even be 6ft under ground, she would be a 100ft. “You heard me” This fucking bitch. She was enjoying everything that was happening.

Wanda however did not. She was panicking and didn't know what to feel about the situation. This may have not been a big deal for you but it was for her. She wanted to be with you in every type of way, but not because of a dare. She wanted you to be her “first” and this however, may be the only chance she would get. In the spur of the moment that was enough. Even though she was terrified, her mind was made up.

“Okej” Hearing her agree to do this may have surprised you even more than Natasha asking the question. “What, are you really sure about this Wands?” She didn't know if the surprised look on your face was a good or bad sign and doubt began filling her mind. But then again, her mind was made up. “Yes, I am.”

“Okay then” You stood up from your seat and made your way towards Wanda and held out your hand towards her. She followed through and put her hand in yours and stood up making the space between you only a few inches. Looking at her face you could see her face held a determined look, but her eyes showed something else. She was nervous.

In an attempt to ease her nerves you softly squeeze her hand. The gesture brought warmth to Wanda making her release a shuddering breath and her shoulders lowering in relaxation. “Can we go to my room”

“Yes, of course” You said as you led her hand in hand towards her room. Being that it was only a few doors down it didn't take too long. You let her hand go as you opened the door letting her walk in first. When you followed you closed the door behind you, making sure to lock it.

Turning around you saw Wanda standing in the middle of the room, picking on her nails and cuticles, a clear sign she felt unsure of what was happening. Wanting to stop her from picking her skin you slowly took each hand in your own, bringing her attention back to you once again. “I want to know that if anything we do is making you uncomfortable and you want to stop or slow down, for any reason, just tell me and we will.” You slowly bring her in your arms and hold her tight, her smaller frame being embraced by your own. “I always want you to feel safe with me.”

The feeling of you being wrapped around her and your warm breath on her neck when you whispered in her ear brought a warm feeling in her stomach. She didn't know where the courage to place one hand on your neck and the other on your hip came from. Nor where it came from when she softly pressed her lips behind your ear. “I already do.”

Her surprisingly bold actions were easily turning you on. The feeling of her soft, plump lips on your neck made your hands move lower bringing her hips to your own. Holding her tightly you slipped your thigh between her legs and made her grind down.

Her skirt rode up at the motion and you heard her gasp as she felt the pleasure strike through her. While you kept up the movement you kissed her neck in various places searching for her most sensitive spots. Beginning with slow open-mouth kisses pressed gently to her skin, making her feel all the right sensations before sucking lightly. And when you felt it to be the right time you carefully bit her skin.

It took Wanda by surprise and with the combined pressure from your thigh between her legs she couldn't hold back the moan that slipped from her throat. She hid her head in your neck as her hands gripped onto you hard trying to steady herself.

Hearing her moan made you crave for more. Crave to have her under you, tasting her on your tongue and feel how wet she was. Hearing her moan and whine as she squirms and writhes in pleasure. Hear her scream when her walls squeeze your fingers when she cums.

Wanting to make your imaginations real you slowly push her backwards to her bed, making her lay down as you reach the edge. You slowly come on top of her till you come face to face with her looking deep into her eyes. While you kept eye contact, your hands found their way to the hem of her shirt and slowly crept up inside it. Her breath became heavier when she felt your hand make contact with her bare skin.

“Is it okay if I take this off?” You asked as you went from stroking the skin of her stomach to gripping the shirt. She answered by nodding her head. “That's not good enough Wanda, I need a verbal answer.” You said in a stern tone.

“Yes, it's okay if you take it off.” With that you slowly lifted the shirt above her head revealing more and more of her skin. When it was fully off you noticed that she had opted to not wear a bra. Her light brown nipples hardened from the change in temperature and you couldn't resist from cupping her breasts in your hands.

You looked deep in her eyes as you spoke softly “ Your beautiful Wanda.” Your words made her heart flutter as a blush spread upon her cheeks. Wanda had never felt so cherished before. The way you looked and spoke to her made her understand that you meant what you said, it wasn't something you said just because.

Being too shy to reply verbally she slowly connected her lips to your as a show of her appreciation. As your lips danced together she felt your hands starting to move, massaging her breasts and nipple. You mixed between softly stroking and lightly pinching her hardened buds. She whimpered into your mouth and she felt her arousal drip into her panties, slowly creating a dark spot.

As you had slipped your thigh between her legs yet again you could also feel the wet spot that was created. You detached your lips from hers, instead bringing open mouth kisses down her neck and collarbone until you reached her breasts. You removed one of your hands from their previous position, placing it on her hip instead.

Her whines from the loss were instantly quietened when you circled your tongue around her areola. You then dragged your tongue over her nipple and started to flick and suck on it. Her hand landed on your head, fingers threading through your hair to get a tight grip on it, holding you in place.

As your hand twisted and pinched her nipple you softly bit onto her other nipple with your teeth. As you raised your head, bringing her nipple with you, her back arched from the pained pleasure. Her legs clenched around your own, her hips desperately trying to grind against you.

A soft "Please" you heard come from her. “What do you want Wanda?” You asked when you change your mouth from her right breast to her left, doing the exact same thing as before.

“I want your fingers, please.” At the same time she told you what she wanted, her hand grabbed ahold of yours and guided it down to her panites. “Good girl.” You told her as you let go of her nipple. You started making your way down her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses after you. You were soon met with a pair of beautiful red lace panties. You could also clearly see the dark spot in the middle of them, showing off how aroused she really was.

“Is it okay if I take this off love?” You asked, softly looking up at her. “Yes, please.” She answered whilst nodding. You gripped both her skirt and panties at the same time, dragging them down her legs until they dropped down to the floor.

As you made your way up her body again you left a trail of wet kisses up her legs. When you came up to her thigh you started lightly biting, leaving bruises behind. Coming up to her pussy you placed a kiss right above her small patch of dark hair.

Her hips bucked at the motion and a quiet moan slipped past her throat. You parted her legs, moving to lay between them, coming face to face with her again. “Are you really sure that this is what you want Wands? I don’t want to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

“Yes, I promise I want this, I feel safe with you.” She said that she caressed your cheek. Her words almost brought tears to your eyes. To know that she trusts you fully with her body and her pleasure.

You pressed your lips to hers, dragging your tongue across her bottom lip asking for permission to enter. She opened her mouth, tangling her tongue with yours. You used her being distracted in the interment moment to bring your hand down to her pussy.

You dragged your whole hand from her clit to her weeping hole, gathering her arousal on your two middle fingers you dragged them back up to her clit. You rubbed circles around it, teasing her by never fully touching it directly. She grunted into your mouth in frustration, her hips bucking up into your hand seaking the friction she needed.

“If you want something you have to tell me Wanda.” You reminded her. Your words made her even more frustrated, couldn't you see that she just needed you. She needs you to make her cum, not to draw it out by teasing her. She barely had any control over her own body left, her hips were bucking wildly in need and her folds were puffy and sticky from all the arousal leaking out of her.

“Please, I just want you to make me cum.” She pleaded. You could see the desperation in her eyes, how they were glazed over, only focusing on you. You knew how much she needed this, you weren't blind. You however, also knew how much sweeter her first release would be with how worked up she was.

“It’s okay love, I’ll take care of you.” Your lips connected to hers yet again, you pressed down on her clit with your thumb, tracing her entrance before sinking into her with your middle- and ring finger. “Oh God.” Her back arched as you pumped your fingers inside of her. She was so wet you could hear sounds coming from her at every thrust.

Her nails dug into your back, leaving deep, red scratch marks, desperately wanting to have you as close as possible. She hid her head in your neck as a way of trying to quieten down her moans. “Don’t do that.” you whispered against her ear. “Don’t hide those lovely sounds from me.” You curled your fingers, making them hit the most pleasurable spot inside her. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

She couldn't hold back anymore. Nobody had ever made her feel as good as she felt now when your fingers repeatedly kept hitting her g-spot. Loud moans spilled from her mouth and you could feel how her walls clenched around your fingers.

With your thumb playing with her clit and your fingers working inside of her your hand began cramping. The angle was a bit awkward and you couldn't use the force that you wanted to.

When you attempted to move your hand into a better position Wanda's hand shot down to yours, desperately trying to keep you in place. She panicked when she felt you move, being so embarrassing close she was afraid you would stop before she was pushed over the edge. “No, please don’t stop. I haven’t finished yet. ” She said, looking up at you pleadingly.

“I know, don’t worry sweetheart.” You chuckled. “I’m just changing into a better position.” You pecked her lips, trying to reassure her further. You moved your hand so that your palm was pressed against her clit, making it easy for you to grind it against her as you yet again eased your finger in.

The act made Wanda relax and place her hand back around your neck. You picked up the pace making sure that your palm stimulated her clit at the same time. You knew she was close again from how her body started tensing. Her legs locked up around your arm and her grip tightened around you.

“Fuck you feel so good, I’m so close!” She moaned against you. “It’s okay, be a good girl and cum for me Wanda.” And she did. “Ohhhh” She let out an almost pornographic moan as her back arched and her whole body trembled. Her eyes shut tight at the utter pleasure that pulsed through her. You could feel her cum leaking out of her as you slowly brought her down from her orgasm.

“There you go, you did so good my love.” You slowly pulled your fingers out and started stroking her legs and her waist bringing her back in the moment with you. Her body slowly lowered back into the bed as she relaxed against you. You left a light trail of kisses from her shoulder up her neck and ended it with a kiss to her forehead. The mussels in her face instantly relaxed and she opened her eyes looking up at you.

“Hi” You smiled down at her. “Hi” She whispered back with a blush rising up her cheeks. “How are you feeling, are you okay?” You were afraid you maybe had taken things too far in the moment and that she would start to regret what you had done.

“Yes I’m okay, I promise. This was amazing. You are amazing.” She said as she stroked your cheek. The worry in your eyes was clear and she wanted you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. She could also feel the heat that rose to your face due to her compliment, not being used to it.

trying to hide it from her you connected your lips and dragged your tongue against her bottom one asking for entrance. Of course she granted it and swirled her tongue with yours. You took your time to just enjoy the moment and the efter bliss, only parting when air became an issue.

"Stay here I’m just gonna get a towel so I can clean you up.” She nodded and you left to go to the bathroom. When you came back with the damp towel you gently cleaned her between her legs and where you had dragged your hand as you were trying to calm her down. Wanda watched as you made sure not to leave any residue left.

When you were done you threw the towel towards the bathroom not wanting to depart from Wanda. “ Hey Wands, would you like to sleep here tonight?” Her being exhausted and on the verge of falling asleep wouldn't say no to that. “Yes please.”

You laid down besides her opening your arm allowing her to snuggle into you. Your legs ended up being tangled, your arms wrapped around each other and she used your shoulder as her pillow. “Thank you for doing this, good night.”

“Of course love.” “Ehh before you sleep, would it be okay if I took you on a proper date tomorrow?”. She tightened her grip on you and kissed your neck before whispering out “Yes I would love nothing more.” With that you both fell asleep happy and content in each other's arms.

#wanda x y/n #wanda smut #wanda x reader #bottom wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda fanfic

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 28th

miguel o’hara x use of the safe word

it was something he never wanted to happen. he’d been so careful beforehand.

he should have known, from the strained pitch in your voice, and the way your spine tensed. this is why i fucking — this is why i shouldn’t be taking you from behind, i can’t watch your face, can’t keep an eye on you. what was i thinking? would run through his head shortly after the word burst from your swollen lips, fighting to keep your cheek off the mattress. he froze completely.

“pink!” you cry, like a real desperate cry — like you’d been wanting him to realise by himself that you were too sensitive, too sore to continue. that’s what really got him, the fact that he should know. he knows you well enough, he should know your limits. he couldn’t believe his lack of restraint, that no amount of spidey-sense could have saved the moment when he was buried in your sweet, tight cunt.

he draws out of you slowly, catching his breath. “i’m… i’m sorry.” he speaks solemnly. watching the way you curl onto your side, legs trembling. “what do you need, love? can you talk to me?” his voice is as kind and soft as he can get it, itching to reach out and place his hand on your back like he usually would when he’d comfort you.

a muffled, small voice comes from you a moment later. “just need you here.” you don’t look at him, but instead reach out for him and he sighs in relief, happy you didn’t want him to leave you alone. he would have obliged of course, but felt worse about it all. he can make it up to you now.

“yeah.” he agrees in response, quickly — and you can hear the relief in his voice. as easily as lifting a cushion or a blanket, miguel lifts you and pulls you onto his lap where he’s sat on the bed, cradling you close to his strong bare chest, letting you ground yourself with the familiarity of it. when you look up at him, he’s looking down at you already— a line between his eyebrows from his frown. you sniffle, bursting into tears. “hey.” he coo’s eyebrows raising up transferring the line horizontally across his forehead. “no más lágrimas, mamacita.” he shushes with a gentle sigh, upset with himself. “you’re safe here.”

“i know i just—” you sniff, violently wiping at your eyes with shaky, limp wrists. “i feel bad. tried to hold out f’you and be good. wanted you to carry on feeling good cos’ i know you were really into it and i ruined—”

“nononono—” miguel cuts you off, pulling your hands from your face and cupping it, holding it still. “sweetheart, you must never do that, okay? could hurt yourself. i’m only enjoying myself if you’re enjoying yourself. that’s how this works.” he’s stern, but for once careful of his tone as to not disturb you further in such a vulnerable state. he shifts you a little where you sit on his leg, being wary of accidentally stimulating or irritating your sore private area. "¿entiendes?" he wipes your tears.

“mhm.”

“well done, sweet girl.” he strokes the back of your head, pulling you back into his chest. in a quieter voice, the first inkling of fear you’ve ever seen miguel demonstrate, he speaks again. “are you hurting?”

“just sensitive.” you reassure honestly, nuzzling your cheek against his warm skin. you feel him deflate in relief slightly. after a quiet minute of him holding you, he speaks — and yet it somehow feels like it’s directed more at himself, like he’s thinking out loud.

“when i’m taking you… especially like that… i forget that i’m so…” you hear him run a hand over his 5 o’clock shadow.

“big?” you suggest honestly, walking fingers along his chest. you feel him shrug modestly.

“i suppose that’s an adequate description.” he goes all formal like he usually does when feeling confronted or nervous. you weakly giggle, looking up at him through lashes and he looks down at you, unable to wipe the worried and embarrassed expression off his face in time.

“it’s not a bad thing, mig. not at all.”

“i hurt you.”

“you didn’t. i’d just had enough.” you stare up determinedly and he backs down, pressing his lips together and staring off into the distance. when you continue to watch him he softens a little more, running a thumb over your cheek again.

“mi chica.” he whispers and you kiss his palm. “i’ll be better.”

he doesn’t need to be.

#miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara prompt #miguel o’hara smut #kinktober 2023

[fraugwinska]

Dude, i had an idea out of nowhere, and in my head it's so funny for no reason ☠️☠️ So, you know that theres like, that canon drawing that Alastor made for Angel's birthday?

((https://twitter.com/HazbinHotel/status/1642135435085217793?t=U6Kzncfye-QAjtJYy8R23A&s=19) This one)

So like, imagine that is Alastor's S/o birthday, and he decided to make her a drawing like that ☠️ idk it's weirdly funny in my head

So - a few things need to be said.

1. I know that Alastor canonically likes to doodle, and ever since episode 1 we really know just how awfully funny these doodles are.

2. what I didn't know was what the hell you were talking about, so I looked it up and... my god. The snorts I snaughted, the wheezes I whoze, the cackles I cuckled. He may be a 'gentleman', he may try to behave cordial and appear classy, but Doodle-Artist-Alastor is a fucking menace, no filter and so snappy, holy shit.

3. Now, for my highly professional opinion (*cough cough*) of what would happen if you, Alastor's s/o, would get a picture like this as a birthday gift. In front of everyone.

❤️ You agreed on celebrating your birthday, as redundant as you thought it was, only under the condition that no one would buy you a gift. If they wanted to hand you a present, you wanted it to be a small, handmade thing, valuing their time and thought behind it much more than the actual thing.

❤️ Everyone would hold true to this request, and the gifts you get match the giver perfectly.

❤️ Charlie and Vaggie crafted together, handing you a bejeweled jewelry box covered in glitter glue and snippets of photos they had taken of you and the gang over the time you were guest in the hotel.

❤️ Niffty, being both skilled in sewing and the chaos gremlin she is, presents you with a abysmal looking pile of different, sewn-together fabrics. You turn and twist it in your hands, thanking her without knowing what it is, until you find a golden snap lock hidden in the masses of layers. It's a very inconvenient coin purse.

❤️ Opening Angels gift has everyone holding their breath - preparing for something phallic, kinky or lewd. instead, you squeal as you pack a crochet version of Fat Nuggets, including his stubby little horns. Angels smug expression at the sheer surprise at his very unusual (and unexpected) talent of the gang quickly turns to a sweet smile as you crush him with your hug, telling him how much you love it.

❤️ Husk's gift for you is nothing corporeal. Instead, he announces he'd teach you one of his many magic tricks he often did for your sheer delight at your many evenings at the bar. He blushes a bit when you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

❤️ Alastor would wait to be the last one to present his gift - it's known the best is always saved for last. He hands you a large envelope. Curiously you open it, careful not to tear it, and pull out a thick sheet of paper

❤️ Five heads hang over your shoulder, five pairs of eyes widen at the sight: The paper is full of scribbled doodles, a crude, macabre looking version of yourself in the middle, around it splatters of what looks like blood, grinning faces, and scribbled words: cutie pie - talks in her sleep - MINE MINE MINE - I love Alastor (in a speech bubble over your head)

❤️ Reactions would be mixed, Charlie would find it weirdly adorable, Niffty would point out anything she likes with bashful giggles, Vaggie would be as disturbed as Husk, while Angel would make fun of it, laughing while mocking the quality of the drawing.

❤️ you however, would be torn between genuine laughter and earnest emotionality you've never received something handmade from Alastor. He'd often shower you in little tokens of care, a bouquet of flowers, a new necklace, a dress or a scarf he's seen at Rosie's. You found it not only endearing, the thought of him, dressed in his pompous attire sitting at his bureau, drawing this made your heart ache with affection.

❤️ Quietly staring at the picture, Alastor would interpret your silence as veiled ridicule, and vanish into shadows, retreating. He had failed, his gift shown to be juvenile and lacking. Sulking, he would avoid you for the rest of the evening, only returning to your shared room when night already fell and everyone was fast asleep

❤️ He would find you in deep slumber, cheeks a bit puffy and shimmering from trails of dried tears. He'd tilt his head in curiosity, wondering what would've possibly made you cry, then he sees it - his painting, clutched in your hands and pressed to your heart.

❤️ He'd hurry to change for the night, scolding himself for drawing hast conclusions - he should know you better. When he gently pulls the paper from you to set it aside, youd awake, reaching out to him, starting to apologize for not giving him an appropriate reaction.

❤️ alastor would shush you, slipping into bed with you, and give you your other, much more intimate present.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #angel dust #charlie morningstar #fraugwinskawrites #fraugwinskasheadcanons #alastor doodles #alastor drawing

[bruh-2004]

XDH + S/O ASKING THEM TO SHOWER TOGETHER FOR THE FIRST TIME

genre: fluff, suggestive at times, comedy.

GUN-IL

- he would look at you immediately with his eyes shining;

- "wow love, I was already thinking that you would never invite me, I was actually excited";

- it would be a fun bath, even seeming like something usual, he would help you with the soap, you would help him wash his hair, you would splash water on each other;

- but we are talking about gun-il, so surely at some point you would end up fucking in the shower (the water bill going through the roof);

- in the end you left tired, but you would be happy to have such a memorable first bath together.

GAON

- Jiseok would jump out of bed when he heard you ask him that, the boy would run towards you and ask "is this serious? Finally!!!";

- he would show his happiness all the time, seriously, taking off his clothes he would be looking at you like 🥰🥰🥰;

- a really fun bath too, you would laugh at him almost falling, he would laugh at you almost going blind with the soap falling into your eyes, but there would be cute moments too;

- ok, makeout session would happen at some point, gaon wouldn't resist with you glued to him all the time;

- after the bath you would be laughing in the wind like two fools in love.

JUNHAN

- he would look at you surprised at first, his cheeks would definitely turn red;

- "you know, love... I don't know, I don't think I'm ready yet";

- you would respect it and go to the shower alone, but in reality Junhan was ready, but he was embarrassed, after thinking a lot he would end up changing his mind and going to meet you (leaving you very surprised, but happy);

- at first the shower would be normal so to speak, you were still a little shy, but little by little you started to loosen up and soon you would be hugging each other under the shower;

- this event would bring you even closer together, junhan would stay closer to you and even ask if you could shower together again the next day.

JOOYEON

- in fact I imagine that with Jooyeon you wouldn't even need to ask, when you went to look for him the boy would already be waiting for you in the bathroom;

- "why that surprised face? I heard you tell your friend on the phone that you were going to spice things up between us";

- yes, you would definitely blush at that, but then you would start laughing and just take him to the stall after they had undressed;

- jooyeon would irritate you a lot in the shower, disturbing you from applying soap to your body, you would retaliate by messing up his hair, but there would come a point where you would be kissing (a bonus: his silly hands would often be on your breasts);

- they would barely have gotten out of the shower and he would be annoying you saying "baby, let's get dirty and go back to the shower, I want to touch your breasts again".

O.DE

- I imagine O.de having a more neutral reaction, as if it were something routine for you to ask him this, so he would simply agree with the idea;

- you would wonder if he wasn't excited about the situation, but when they entered the bathroom you would realize that he was excited, he was just trying to hide it;

- he would look you up and down, you would say with shame "stop fucking me with your eyes seungmin!" and he would respond "I'll only stop if I want to eat you in another way";

- they would already get in the shower making out, he's not the type of guy who wastes time, a shower would only happen after he achieved his goal;

- after everything, already lying in bed, seungmin would be taking care of you with great affection, he would caress your back and tell you how much he enjoyed taking a shower with you.

JUNGSU

- with Jungsu I imagine a slightly different situation, you had no intention of calling him, but he would follow you in the room while you picked up your things so you already imagined what he wanted and ended up surrendering;

- he would be as happy as a child running in the most adorable way possible to get his things;

- already in the shower he would ask you "honey, can I give you a bath? I swear it's without malice";

- and it really was without malice, he bathed you as carefully as possible as if you were a baby, overall it would be a very romantic bath, you would give quick kisses and hugs;

- when you were applying post-bath cream on your arms Jungsu would hug you from behind leaving a kiss on your neck, he would say "I loved taking a shower with you, love, but next time we won't take a shower and you know exactly what I want say with that."

#xdinary heroes fanfic #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh smut #xdinary heroes smut #xdinary hard hours #xdh imagines #xdinary heroes imagines #gunil smut #o.de smut #jungsu smut #gaon smut #junhan smut #jooyeon smut #jooyeon #jungsu #jun han #gaon #o.de #goo gunil

[bangtaninborderland]

MYG - Music To My Heart.

Part 2.

You knocked on his studio door, once, twice and then when he didn’t answer you knocked a much firmer third.

The door swung open, the older man grunting about not wanting to be disturbed, that is until he sees you. His frown evened out as his lips turned into a subtle smile.

“You came? Is everything okay?” He stepped aside, giving you the go-ahead to enter the room.

You sat down in his chair, which had been pushed into the far corner almost as if he wanted to distance himself from the computer. “I’m okay, you are not.”

He rolled his eyes closing the door, taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “I am, if Jimin called you then you should have ignored it.”

“He said you swore at him.” You raise your eyebrows, Yoongi was never one to raise his voice, he wouldn’t be afraid to use an insult or two but no one ever took it personally.

“I’m just stuck okay? You know what I get like whenever I have a block.” His gaze falls to his fingers as he picks the skin around the nail, something your recognised a long time ago as being something he did because of his anxiety.

You sighed walking over to him, sitting yourself in his lap. His hands ceased their silent attack on one another in favour of resting on your hips. “We talked about this yoon. You have to rest otherwise you’ll get burnt out.”

“It’s not like that this time, I nearly have it. I can feel it there I just don’t know how to bring those thoughts forward. I even tried meditating.” He defends himself, his voice cutely raising a pitch.

You but your lip in hopes of hiding your smile. “You tried meditating.”

“Jimin caught me and told me he would post it on Weverse if I didn’t go home.” He scowled.

You remember how jimin had been vague earlier on the details that prompted Yoongis' outburst. “That explains why he was so shady when he called me.”

“You have got to stop listening to any member in the maknae line, I swear they only exist to make you babysit me.” He laughs resting his head against your shoulder.

You let him sit there for as long as he needs, his breathing grows quiet as does everything else in the room. You relax alongside him, your own head resting against his as you run your hand through his long black hair. After a while, you begin to hum, something you often did to occupy the space between you and him.

You almost fall off his lap as he sits up, pushing you off his lap. “What the fuck Yoongi?!” You shout throwing his shooky pillow at him.

“That hum.” He sits in his chair his fingers rushing across the keyboard as if his thought was going to escape him any minute. “What was that hum?”

You lean forward, a little confused. “I don’t know it was just something I made up as I went along.”

“Could you do it again but into the mic?”

“Min Yoongi if you want me to feature on your song that will be 5 million.”

“Won?” He asks, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Dollars.” You giggle, tiptoeing over to him.

“Never gonna happen but I’ll let you braid my hair.” He extends a hand to which you shake playfully.

You shake your head in disbelief as you walk over to the microphone, waiting for him to signal the okay before humming the same tune. He had you do it a few more times before asking you to hum another one but this time quieter.

“I think I have an idea for some lyrics.” He explains to you, extending a hand to call you back to him.

You could see the earlier tension in his shoulders were no more. “I hope I helped.”

“You did Sweetheart. How about you go and get us some dinner and meet me at home in say an hour? I’ll get some lyrics recorded and meet you at home.”

You knew this was him gently explaining he needed his space to work and you were more than happy to give him that, he went to hand you his card as you slipped on your shoes but you declined. As much as you would both joke about it you always were equal. Of course, there were things he could afford to do that you couldn’t but you always did your best to contribute fairly.

On days like today when your Boyfriend was stressed and overwhelmed you liked to treat him the same way he, did you. You requested that the driver he had arranged to take you home stop at Yoojung Sikdang.

Yoongi had talked about wanting food there for months, it was always way too busy and it was an attraction that army would frequently visit, it being the restaurant bangtan had used during their debut days.

You had met the owner a few times, she knew who you were but no one else did which allowed you the ability to pick up yoongis favourite dish from the restaurant.

You got home pretty fast which is why you were surprised to see Yoongis shoes by the door. The sound of the refrigerator opening alerts you to his location.

You managed to slide off your shoes and carry the many boxes safely into the kitchen without dropping anything.

“Hey baby do you wa- you did not.” His eyes widen in disbelief as he focuses on the box’s logo.

“I thought you deserve an old comfort.”

“What did you get?” He practically throws the box open in excitement.

“black pork and stone pot bibimbap and grilled black pork belly.”

He swings around faster than you could comprehend, his lips colliding with yours as his hands grip into your hair. He traces your jaw with kisses, leaving a mark just below your ear.

“If I knew you’d react like that I would have gone months ago.” You laugh, feeding him a piece of pork.

“Aish don’t be a brat.” He accepts the food, mumbling about how good it tastes.

You both laughed before taking another bite of food. You watched the man silently, his face seemingly happy. “How did it sound in the end?”

“Like music to my heart.”

You can’t help but blush as he winks at you, a hand squeezing your thigh before turning back to his meal. His own shyness laid out as he laughed into his bony hands.

Yoongi wasn’t the easiest person, it took you a long time to understand him but you were thankful that you took the time to, you couldn’t imagine your life without the man. His random spurts of energy, his focus and dedication, his passion, the way he loves and the way he wants to be loved are all things you never thought you’d love about a person, funnily enough, they are all the things you love about him.

#bts #bts angst #bts yoongi #bts rm #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi comfort #yandere yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi #suga x reader #suga bts #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x jungkook #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon comfort #jimin drabble #jimin fanfic

[akoyaxs]

˚༄ Tìyora Pt 5 - Final ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: shit is filthy, rut, oral (m and f recieving), 69, rough sex, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff at the end because we got to finish it off nice :) ~ I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for all the support throughout this smutty slutty little story, I swear it's so unserious at times and I have a good little giggle writing it, but I couldn't do it without all my pookie pies and this one is for all of you Aonung sluts cause this man is so fine 😻 OKAY ENJOY!!! - Zenna

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

“He’s a complete skxawng,” you growl, stabbing the knife you’re meant to be sharpening harshly into the sand.

“Right,” Tsireya says consolingly, though you suspect if you raise your gaze, you’ll find her rolling her eyes. The two of you are sitting on the beach, doing your various tasks, though it seems more like you're ranting and less like you're actually doing anything.

“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you scowl. “He hasn’t been at training, or anywhere around the village or the bay or even the rest of the reef. And he’s not even hiding in your marui.”

“And how would you know that?” Tsireya asks, a small smile curling her pretty lips.

“Because I checked,” you say bluntly. “Several times. Because I’m bothered that my supposed warrior commander is neglecting his duties. That is all.” Tsireya doesn’t say anything, just pursing her lips and nodding seriously, and your frown deepens. “I’m serious. What sort of leader is he going to be if he’s just sulking around and hiding from-”

“And what would he be sulking about?” your friend counters. “I haven’t seen my brother in a couple days, even after he’s been avoiding you or whatever, if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell me what happened.”

At that, you pause.

You aren’t even entirely sure what happened. The last time you saw Aonung, which had been over a week ago, he’d caught you with Ta’ru behind the rocks. You had played a little game which ended up with you on your knees, getting the shit rocked and breath knocked flat out of you as he fucked you like he hated you (which, of course, he probably still did).

You had probably just imagined that he’d become less haughty towards you, that he’d been sweet and gentle sometimes instead of his usual taunts and condescending idiocy towards you. But apparently not, because now he’s even worse. You can tolerate fights and comments, Eywa knows you’ve battled off enough of them, but getting cut out and ignored just stings so much more.

No. You don’t care.

It’s not that deep. Why should you care that the most infuriating person you ever met is treating you with the same hatred you’re meant to feel for him.

You shouldn’t care.

But you do, for some inexplicable reason, and as always, your upset comes in the form of anger.

“Hello?” Tsireya snaps you back into reality. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about whatever weird thing is going on between you and my brother, but maybe stop trying to murder the beach?”

“What?” You look down to realise you’d been violently stabbing the sand with your knife, shells shattered at the bottom of the jagged grooves you left behind, loose sand scattered all over you from your unconscious stabbing. “Oh, sorry.” Tsireya grins, and then the rest of her words process in your mind and you straighten up to glare at her. “There’s nothing 'going on' between me and Aonung. He’d be the last per-”

“Oh really?” your friend scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not blind. I’ve never seen Aonung like this before.”

“Like what?” you scowl, but a guilty tone of your curiosity shines through your voice as you study her. But Tsireya just laughs and shakes her head, as though she can’t believe you right now. “Fine,” you snap. “Don’t tell me then. I’ll go find him myself.”

“That’s probably not a great idea,” Tsireya says, scrunching her nose up. “If Aonung doesn’t want to be bothered, everyone knows best than to try and disturb him.”

“Well he can suck it up because I don’t care if he’s some stupid silly prince or some bullshit,” you shrug. “I care that he’s ignoring me, because no one ignores me and gets away with it.”

Tsireya just grins as you stalk away, and you swear you hear her muttering smug, giggly nonsense to herself as she watches your furious, purposeful storming.

You end up in the forest behind the village. You’re not entirely sure why; maybe you’re just too worked up and you need something the least bit similar to home, or maybe you just think better when surrounded by trees instead of sand and sea. Either way, the second your feet hit soft, damp grass and the sunlight is barred by lush shady canopy, your annoyance doesn’t quite dissipate, but at least your body seems to relax in the mere presence of the forest.

You’re just wandering, enjoying the sounds of the birds and allowing the damp, cool scents to roll over you like home, albeit more tropical and sweet than rainforest. Or at least, you think it’s only the sounds of the rainforest wafting through the damp air, until you hear it. Deep, pained, laborious groans. Like someone’s hurting, aching, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

You pause. You could run back and get help, but the groans sound oddly familiar, and you find yourself instantly following them. Through the bushes and trees and shrubs, past thickets of bright flowers and sharp thorns and random animals. They’re growing louder, hungrier, the closer you draw to the source of the sound until you burst into a small clearing, a small woven marui stretched over in a shelter in the centre, blocking the groans from view.

You stalk closer, silently, though you can imagine they could never hear you over their own groans and grunts. Then you’re peeking through the gaps of the weavings and stepping into the hut.

Aonung’s slumped against one side, curled up slightly so you can’t see him properly, and he’s hidden in the shadows anyway. His face looks flushed and frustrated, and there’s a certain darkness around him that has your tail pricking up unconsciously. But when he looks up, when he sees you, his eyes darken further.

“What are you doing here?” he croaks, gritting his teeth, sounding furious.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap, crossing your arms in the entrance. “It’s been a week Aonung, where the fuck have you been? Cowering in this little hut doing Eywa knows what?”

Aonung just continues to stare, eyes growing darker and hungrier with every second they rove over your body, and you feel them lingering particularly on the curves and hidden places he knows only too well now.

“You need to leave.”

“What?” you ask, taken aback by the audacity of Aonung. “No.”

“Leave now,” Aonung growls, his voice deep and desperate and dangerous, and you feel a sharp jolt somewhere deep within you, as though your body is recognising something the rest of you cannot.

“What did I tell you about you and your orders?” you say stiffly, glaring at his slumped figure. “I don’t give two flying fucks who you are, you cant-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roars, eyes narrowing to pale slits, face contorted with desperate frustration.

“NO!” you shout back with equal ferocity, standing your ground and taking a stubborn step into the marui.

And then it hits you. The scent, the energy, the strangeness of his behaviour and his absence from the village, not just you. It should have been obvious already; the lustful darkness in those usually bright eyes, the heat with which he snarls his words, the sheer frustration surrounding him that was no doubt sharpened by days with only his own company.

“You’re in rut,” you whisper, tilting your head down at him.

Aonung doesn’t reply, just breathing heavily. For a moment you think he’s trying to compose himself to speak, but then you realise that his eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping himself back with fierce desperation for a reason.

It’s starting to piece together in your mind, but not at all. It makes sense that he would go away from the village, hide away and try to master himself in solitude, but he had you. The thought makes you frown, that he didn’t want you near, that he clearly doesn’t want you near, and he didn’t bother asking for your help.

Aonung’s growing more frustrated the longer you stand there, and you can sense wave after wave of pure, vicious, animalistic desire radiating off him and breaking over you in a way that makes something… change.

“You need to leave,” he whispers, his voice a small plead. The change from his snarls and roars for you to leave makes you shiver, and you can already see himself slipping away, his will cracking under your presence and his last attempts to get you to leave becoming weaker as his hunger conquers him.

But you don’t. Surprising yourself, and definitely him, you step closer again, body feeling strangely shaky, even nervous. His ever-darkening eyes watch your every step, and his grip tightens so hard you see his large hands paling, anchoring himself, stopping himself from moving.

“I thought we were supposed to help each other out,” you say quietly, taking another step closer.

“Please,” he breathes, his voice nothing more than a small whine, and you exhale shakily. He’s a fucking mess, and you find yourself longing to take care of it, living off that hunger he’s trying so hard to hold back. You can see that, and that’s probably why you do it.

Your hand reaches out to lift his face towards yours, fingers trapping his chin in your gaze. He’s obviously struggling, whether to refrain from looking away or trying to hold the stare, you don’t know. And you know is the dark desperation in those eyes, and understanding passes between the two of you.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” Aonung whispers, head unconsciously leaning into your palm, looking so lost and helpless you just want to fuck it all away.

“I know.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says, chest heaving with the cracking efforts to control himself.

“I can take it,” you say quietly, gaze turning defiant. He should know that by now, you have an excellent threshold. Either way, you can’t imagine Aonung ever hurting you badly enough that you’d stay away anyway.

And then he cracks, his restraint crumbling, his grip holding himself back loosening, and he’s crashing his lips onto your with a vicious snarl.

With a small jolt, you remember you never kissed. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you; kissing seemed to intimate, and the arrangement had no room for intimacy. You always told yourself you didn’t have any time for it anyway.

But now, with Aonung tugging you closer with every second, kissing with such desperate fervour, it feels like he’s devouring you whole. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, rough and insatiable against yours, tongue slipping ruthlessly past your lips, fangs sinking lightly down on your warm, kissed skin. His hands are hungry too; roaming all over you with careless abandon, squeezing at the flesh of your ass, trailing between your thighs before infuriatingly pulling away to yank your top straight off your chest.

You let out a small hiss, whether you’re annoyed about the top or just shocked or just plain taken aback by his reckless thirst. The beads go scattering everywhere, the light, joyful plinks sounding completely inappropriate to Aonung’s heaving breaths, or the lewd, mortifying moan you let slip when he hefts you up into his lap and closes his lips around your breast.

You unconsciously arch backwards, pushing your chest forward, and he moves with careless hunger; licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks sharply at it before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.

And then, as though Aonung’s impatience gets the better of him (and you have to remind yourself that this is completely about him, and he wouldn’t be in the right mind to be processing your entire pleasure either), he’s pulling you away and tossing you against the floor.

You aren’t used to it. Sure, he’s been less than gentle before, but when he said he wouldn’t hold back, you admittedly had no idea what you were getting into. Seconds later he’s on top of you, pinning you down and sinking his fangs into your warm neck, inches away from the throb of your pulse.

Another symptom of heats and ruts; marking. It was another thing you’d been careful to avoid, so no one found out you were fucking, but Aonung’s animalistic instincts were obviously overpowering. And besides, it made you feel things you never would have imagined.=

At the first whine of his bite, Aonung knows you like it. So again and again he sinks his sharp fangs into your warm, soft flesh, along your neck, the underside of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the inside of your trembling thighs. Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger. You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.

Everything about him is just too much. His hands are holding you down with the force of an akula, as though he’s worried you’re going to scramble away from him, but you doubt you’d be able to anyway. He’s suckling at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. 

You’re never really that worried about being too gentle with him either, but you’re finding yourself more free in his rut state, knowing his mind is too hazy to focus on any of the little details he’d usually taunt you for if you dared to do them. He doesn’t care that you’re rutting into his face with desperation to rival his, in fact, you can see his hips searching for any sort of friction with the floor.

“Aonung,” you try to say, but it comes out as more of a broken whine. You cough and try again. “Aonung!”

He doesn’t respond, the only indicator he even heard you was the slight twitch of his ears before he’s sliding a thick finger into you. Trying your best to beat off the lewd moans that spill out of you, you try your best to tug at his head to speak to him, cause there’s no fucking way he’s listening properly when his head is nestled in its favourite spot, squeezed tightly between your thighs.

“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you huff, growing frustrated with the effort to slow him down. “That’s sort of the whole po-”

You cut yourself off with a positive shriek when he’s flipping you over, letting you flop against his front before dragging you up his body so your cunt is hovering over his face, thighs once again straddling the sides of his head in a very different scenario.

“Better?” he grunts, sounding extremely irritated.

“Where did you learn this?” you ask, looking in shock at the insatiable man beneath you, growing suddenly familiar with this position when your gaze drops to where it naturally falls, at the very large tent in his tewng. Aonung just huffs, as though growing increasingly annoyed that you keep delaying him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he growls. “You want to help me, go ahead. Now can I finish you off or are you going to keep yapping like your life depends on it?”

You scoff, but before your next words can be spoken, he drops you down onto his face and sucks at your clit. Hard. You let out a shocked squeak, jolting on his face, but he doesn’t protest at all by your weight, and when you worry you might suffocate him and try to lift off, his arm is looping around your waist and forcing you back down before remembering what you’re meant to be doing.

You reach out to grab his length, and he lets out a soft huff of impatience against you, the vibration making you flutter. Quickly, before you can get distracted to the point you’re completely useless to help him, you lick a long stripe up his length before closing your lips and swirling your tongue around the tip.

Thankfully, he seems somewhat satiated, letting out a relieved groan against your throbbing clit, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh. But unfortunately, you forgot to factor in the rut aspect.

Soon enough, he was thrusting mindless up into your mouth, hand reaching out to hold you there, force you to take it all down your throat. You oblige, tears leaking from your eyes, moans spilling around his length in your mouth from his relentless nipping and sucking and licking between your thighs.

It is, by far, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done. You almost feel ashamed of all of it – the lewd sounds you make, the mortifying wet sounds from Aonung between your legs, his strong abs rubbing against your naked tits as he ruthlessly thrusts up into your mouth – but you remind yourself that it’s all for a noble purpose. You’re helping him out, that’s all. That is all it ever is.

And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.

And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.

He seems larger than ever, pulsing and swollen and obscene, driven mad and inconsolable with the animalistic desire consuming him, and you know he’s probably completely deaf to you. He pays no mind to the small sobs you let out against his length, though he remains determinedly focused in his task of sucking your soul out of your cunt.

You can’t tell if your lightheadedness is caused by the lack of air from Aonung being stuffed so far down your throat you can imagine he’s prodding your heart, or the overwhelming pleasure from his far less than gentle treatment between your legs, or maybe even both.

It’s filthy. It’s obscene. It’s fucking humiliating really, that there is just something so deliciously wrong with this situation. Oh god, Tsireya probably knew Aonung was in rut, probably knew what would happen, what’s going on right now in this hidden hut in the forest. You can’t even bring yourself to care.

Aonung’s practically leaking into your mouth and you continue, trying helplessly to keep up with his insatiable paces, but you’re growing further from focus the longer he continues, the harder he sucks at you, the further he pushes himself into your throat.

It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and mingling with the tears flooding shamelessly down your cheeks.

And when you come undone, it’s with a moan that’s positively obscene. Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock.

There is something just so perfectly fucked about the scene, and when you come back down, tears and come and saliva smeared all over your face and collar and tits, Aonung is still hard, and when he pulls you back down to his face, you realise he has no intention of letting up anytime soon.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before you feel it building again. It’s humiliating really, all your sounds and the way Aonung can definitely feel you practically throbbing. It’s overwhelming to the point you think you might actually die, but there’s no physical possibility you could pull away, not with his arm looped strictly around your waist to hold you still.

It’s hot in the hut, or maybe it isn’t, but you feel as though there’s fucking fire coursing through your veins, heating your face and definitely between your thighs. It seems impossible how much you like this, it’s fucked and filthy as well, but there’s something about Aonung’s insatiable hunger and his plain, shameless desperation.

Your moans are growing hoarser at his absolutely relentless movements, warm, textured tongue and slicked mouth sealing around your overstimulated, throbbing clit as his hands move to squeeze the flesh of your waist and hips and ass. You’re writhing against him with enough force to break his nose, but he’s just groaning right back as though this is helping as much as anything in his frustrated rut.

It’s too much, and it feels as though you might actually pass out on this once. Humiliatingly, yet somehow shamelessly, you’re begging for more, for less, to stop, to keep going. It’s slowly slurring into a sobbing mess until finally all that comes out of your mouth are lewd, strangled cries. You think that somewhere amidst that strangled heap of moans that his name is repeated, over and over again, his body tensing under you with every time you whine it, followed by a demeaning flood of incoherent sobbing.

And then it crests.

Somewhere in the middle of your euphoric, delirious vision of blank, tranquil white and the peaceful ringing in your ears, it strikes you that it really is like a wave. Because when it breaks, you fucking flood.

Your muscles are tensed so tight you might pull something, and you couldn’t care less. You can’t feel anything anyway, beyond blow after blow of overwhelming, world-shattering pleasure, completely unaware of the way you squirted beyond his mouth, over his whole face and body, your intense release gleaming with the tahnì over his flushed skin.

You babble incoherently for a moment, eyes wide and drooping at the same time, mouth open in hopeless shock, hands searching to find purpose on his hips before Aonung is lifting you up, chucking you back against the floor and crawling onto your trembling body.

If you thought the regular Aonung, your Aonung, had gone before, you have no idea what’s happening now. There is no trace of that taunting, careful, jealous, gentle man in those large blue eyes. Hell, there’s not even any blue either, just a starved icy ring around the pools of ravenous onyx gazing at you, filled with raw thirst.

There’s no sign of Aonung in any of his movements, not with the way he’s tugging you into him like you’re a fucking ragdoll, not with the heaviness of his breath, the way he claps you against him so he can sink his fangs into your shoulder as he pushes past the ring of resistance and slides into your tight, welcoming heat.

Your cry is strangled by the dryness of your throat, feeling yourself being stretched to a point you don’t think he ever even met before. It’s painful, but you find yourself not wanting anything more than being able to take him, to be able to bring him pleasure, to let him into his paradise between your legs.

This now is a brutal reminder of why you’re here, who all of this is about. Aonung radiates complete careless selfishness as he pushes deep into you, until you physically can’t take him anymore, until you’re sobbing against his shining chest, gripping his arms so tight his flesh is starting to bruise, before he pulls out and slams back in. Fuck.

You don’t know shit, where you are, what way’s up, even if you’re fucking na’vi or tawtute, because the stretch of his relentless length feels as though he’s absolutely ridiculously massive compared to you. All you can do is cling to his tense, growling figure, praying to Eywa that this is satiating him, your own body limp in his iron grip.

Your lolling head allows him perfect placement to your neck and shoulders and chest, where he litters you with hungry nips, warm, wet, textured tongue licking away the blood his fangs spilt. Your own hands can’t do much either, but when your nails dig into his back, he lets out a low, snarling groan against your skin, and you can’t help raking you hands up and down, tracing your mark into the rippling muscles under your fingers.

And when you think you might actually pass away, where the pleasure has peaked so high it might as well be in the fucking heaven tawtute talk about, Aonung pulls out to the tip, fingers lacing back to tug your kuru, neck completely exposed and throat tight with the stretch, and gaze trapped helplessly in his.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, face inches from yours, large eyes deluged in sharp ferocity. “Mine, forest girl.”

And you find you can’t do anything but whine weakly against him. You can hardly breathe in this position, feeling impossibly empty without him stuffed deep in you, yet still being stretched wide by him. His gaze is raking fiercely over your tear-streaked, flushed face, before he buries himself deep inside you once more and completely loses himself.

And you do lose yourself. You just blank out, knowing nothing but his weight against you, his lewd growls in your heart, feeling strangely safe and comfortable. And content.

When you come back, whether seconds or minutes or hours or maybe even days have passed, you don’t know. All you know is you’re slumped against the floor, and you’re no longer drenched in shining sweat, no longer glimmering with release over your skin. The bites scattering your body are throbbing with a warm sting, no longer bleeding, now ruby adornments to your skin.

There is nothing more distressing than the realisation that hits you next; that you’re alone.

With a flare of panic that makes all of you throb painfully, you creak up to a small, seated position. It stings more than the bites, than the stretch and the intensity of your releases. Aonung must have left you, used and littered, a helpful toy during his rut. The wound deepens when you remember that’s all he would have thought it was.

He had no idea - let alone his mind being in its animalistic, desirous state - simply believing you were here to aid him in his struggles.

But then something catches your eye, a dark, muscular pile in the corner of the hut. With terrified tentativity, you pad lightly over to Aonung’s slumped form, back turned to you, face buried in his lap. You can see the marks you raked into his back as you move closer, but you don’t dare to touch him.

“Aonung?” you whisper nervously. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and the tension curling inside you throbs painfully again. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t look at you. “Are you…”

“You should go,” he says tightly. His voice sounds strained, painful, but his words sting further than any ache he could be possibly feeling. You still, hands half reached towards him, face twisted in a helpless expression of hurt, trying your best to breathe. You have no idea why you feel so vulnerable right now, why he suddenly has the power to break everything within you, everything you know, and why he’s already halfway there.

“What?” you whisper, and despite all your best efforts, your small, trembling voice expresses all the ache and horror and heartache you tried to hide. Aonung’s muscles tense a little at the so painfully obvious brokenness of your voice, and you would give anything to see what his face looks like right now, as he ruins you.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters.

That’s all. No name. No explanation. Just two meaningless words tossed carelessly your way, like some twisted reparation for all the damage his last three words did. You bite your lip, feeling your eyes welling with tears.

WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.

This is Aonung, the man you hated since the moment you landed in Awa’atlu, the same one just a week before you had practically at your fucking feet. The one you swore you’d never feel this way about. But now here you are, already breaking at his carelessness.

WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK.

The tears stinging your eyes disgust you. Since childhood you had never cried. Not when protecting your siblings, not when getting shot by demons, not when leaving your clan and birthright and all you had ever known. And now you are about to cry over a fucking man, one that you tried so impossibly hard not to care for.

FUCK HIM.

“Fuck you.”

The words are out, they are spoken. Not with quite the ferocity you meant to snarl them with, but the brokenness of your voice had a certain effect too. Aonung tenses, but that just sparks the usual fire inside you. He had no fucking right to be upset right now.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice steadily emotionless, and that fire blazes brighter.

“Don’t be,” you glare. “I mean, the perfect prince of the clan does no wrong, right?”

“I’m sor-”

“Stop!” you shout, rage boiling inside of you. “Stop fucking saying that Aonung. I mean, this was the arrangement, right? Careless sex, no strings, no attachment, no concern, fucking NOTHING.”

Aonung’s shoulders slump slightly, and once again, your annoyance flares that he still won’t face you.

“So what was all that shit about your mine if you’re just going to kick me out now,” you say rawly. “Was it just your rut? Are you just a weirdly jealous fucking man, getting mad when people touch shit that isn’t actually yours? Why are you so fucking angry-”

“Look at yourself!” Aonung explodes.

It takes you a moment to realise that he’s suddenly standing, towering over you, fists balled and whole body tense, face twisted in rage and disgust. With himself.

You can’t think of anything to say for a moment, tense, furious silence falling in the dangerously small space between the two of you.

“I mean, you’re hurt,” he says, eyes raking over your body. The bites are glowing against the dark, rich blue like sanguine crescents. Your skin looks raw and flushed still, and you realise that he must have wiped everything off you. “You’re ruined.”

“Aonung I-”

“And I did that to you,” Aonung sighs, face twisting in slight distress as his eyes fall over the bites and grips and few bruises he left over you. You let out the breath you’d been holding.

Aonung’s gaze flicks up to yours, emotionless and blank as you stare back at him. There’s terror in his eyes, which are slowly returning to their usual blue, pupils shrinking away as the animalism of his rut starts to pass. He’s worried, maybe you’ll slap him, or shout at him again. But your hand comes to rest gently on his face, thumb brushing lightly over his flushed cheek.

“I told you Aonung, I can take it.”

Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, face screwed up in overwhelming emotion. But his head unconsciously leans into your hand, and you smile slightly.

“But I hurt you,” he whispers, sounding disgusted with himself.

“You’ll have to try harder than that skxawng,” you smile weakly, and Aonung lets out a shaky laugh. “But I was more than happy to do what it took to help you.”

“Eywa,” he groans, his own hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sor-”

“Stop apologising skxawng,” you frown. “Or I’m actually going to leave.”

Instantly, Aonung’s hand closes around your own, his fingers lacing through yours and tugging you back, so you’re inches away from him, neck tipped back to look at him. There’s that usual grin playing around his face; although his face remains blank, you can see the smirk glittering in those eyes.

“Go on princess,” he whispers. “What were you saying, before I so rudely interrupted you?”

“That you’re a complete idiot,” you grumble, but you don’t let go of him. You don’t want to ever let go of him. “What did you mean before, about me being-”

“Mine,” Aonung finishes. “You’re mine.”

And you feel a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.

“Alright,” you smile, blinking up at him.

“Alright?” he echoes, as though that wasn’t at all the answer he was expecting, what he dared to hope for.

“Yep. I’m yours, fishlips.”

There’s a brief moment where he’s silent, eyes wide and staring blankly at you. He blinks several times, lips parting, before he’s stepping in and wrapping his arms tight over you, pillowing your body in his own. After a moment, you lean in even closer and snake your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still think you’re a skxawng,” you mumble against his skin, and his laugh rumbles warm and comforting against you.

“Of course syulang,” Aonung grins, squeezing your waist lightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stay in that embrace for a moment, before he realises just how tired you are, and then he’s instantly fussing about you, making sure you’re alright, that you don’t need anything, before he’s making you rest against him, cuddled warmly and comfortably on the floor.

His hand is resting lightly over you, lightly tracing your darker patterns or gently playing with your hair as you drift comfortably off, head resting comfortably against his solid chest. You can feel his warm heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring.

When you wake up, he’ll be waiting to be able to hold you tighter without being scared of waking you up, having already gone out and hunted while you were sleeping. He’ll take you gently back to the village where you both deny any of the suspicious comments your friends and family shoot you, but no one believes you; the hopeless grins on your faces and the sly grins you send each other aren’t all that sneaky.

But for now, you’re warm and comfortable and happy in your fucked out, satisfied state, snuggled against the man you once hated so fiercely.

As far as it goes, you came out alright on this one.

Quite the victory it was.

Your tìyora.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul - Thank you for being here and enjoying this story 💗 Also tagging @pandoraslxna @pandorxxx @hotdsworld @tojisun @xylianasblog @aperiraa @blue-slxt @theblueflower05 and @vivid-ink bc you are all my biggest inspirations and thank you for being such a big part of the avatar fandom 😘 Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃

#avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #aonung x reader #avatar the way of water #aonung x female reader #avatar smut #aonung fic #avatar #aonung fanfiction #aonung #aonung x sully!reader #enemies to lovers #enemies with benefits

[moondirti]

I’m so down bad for Ghost 😭 imagine one day he catches on to the things his voice does to you, he’s talking to you one day and noticed the way you suddenly get tense the moment he praises you and then he takes it and runs with it, absolutely cocky at the fact he can ruin you without even touching you

Every time I hear a voice line or watch a cutscene with him, I get weak 😭 god just kill me pls

i listen to his voice lines to help me go to sleep at night. something about that accent, man

Ghost is not a verbal man. He's best known for his strength, brutal efficiency - that cutthroat quick thinking in moments that mean life or death. In the rare instances that his words don't form barked commands or interrogative jabs, he finds that they come out... awkward sounding. Like the consonants don't meld with the vowels, and two syllables make one. Praise, whispered nothings, affection; tender proclamations fit like kernels in the gaps between his teeth. He's just never had anyone to model it for him.

The most he gives you is a nod, a low grunt of approval when you pitch in with helpful insight during a debriefing. But for all his faults, he is nothing if not observant. Ghost picks up on the subtle hitch of your breath, the glossy sheen over your eyes that glints as you perk at the reinforcement. He's not dumb, either - he knows what it means. The rookie's got it bad; either for him, for his voice, or maybe just for any validation you can get your hands on.

It's not purposeful. At least, he doesn't intend to feed into your little secret. But it finds its way into his treatment of you, like a fixture gnawing on an ego he's tried to conceal eons ago. He hums contemplatively as you speak, echoes your advice as demand, even goes to the unprecedented extent of clipping out a husky 'good' when you hit a target right on the mark. He isn't just doing it to sate you. You're genuinely intelligent, and skilled, and absolutely fucking gorgeous when you try to hide your delighted grin behind a trembling hand.

So perhaps it's perversion. Perhaps he's an deeply disturbed individual who revels in the fact that a person as brilliant as you has likely never been told as much. He doesn't have it in him to care. It's his own little game, a whim to pass the time between gunfire and detonations.

That is, until everyone else starts to notice.

Because of course they do. Ghost rarely ever spoke before you, let alone gave out consistent praise. Consequently, they take it upon themselves to assume shit for it, crafting increasingly ridiculous rumours that put both you and him into question. It manages to inspire an acrid emotion inside him, a mix of unbridled anger and violence that has him seeing bright red. He shuts them down before they gain any traction, looming over officers who think they're being discreet. It's no wonder that, quicker than it happened, the gossip stops.

You're still outcast, though. Jealousy is a vile thing.

But it only means he has a larger chance to get you alone. And when he does?

"Chin up, sergeant. You're at a level they can never hope to reach."

The image of your parted lips sears itself onto the back of his eyelids. He looks for it in his most shameful points, a hand wrapped around his thick length as water beats down his back.

#i took it in a diff direction than you may have meant op #im sorry!! i just had to make him the tiniest bit awkward #simon 'ghost' riley #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #mwii #mw2 2022 #cod mw22 #cod mwii #call of duty: modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #headcanons #thirsts #༄dee answers #ghost headcanons

[mykoreanlove]

sweet whispers

It was a dark and stormy night. The vivid lightning of thunder illuminated the darkness outside. Raindrops pattered against the glass windows heavily, but you didn’t notice. You were laying in your boyfriend’s arms sleeping. The relationship between Chan and you was still fresh, yet somehow you felt the utmost peace when you were with him.

He was observing you cautiously. Even though he was exhausted from all the shows he had done in the last couple of weeks, he did not want to shut his eyes and sleep. Instead, he watched you toss and turn, murmur in your sleep. Watching you slumber filled his heart with love and his mind with peace. He adored your beautiful features, even more exquisite now that you were asleep. Chan noticed you babbling franticly, too quietly for him to hear so he pulled you closer into his strong arms.

“What is it, baby?” he murmured while listening closely to your rambling. You did not know you were talking in your sleep. Nobody had ever mentioned that before, but again only a few ever got the chance to see you so vulnerable at all. Chan’s whole demeanor changed as he understood what you were saying. It ached his heart to hear about your gruesome fears. You had not mentioned those to him while conscious, maybe you had not been ready, yet? Not wanting to push you he decided to reassure you in your slumber first. If you were ready to talk about it while awake, he’d gladly repeat himself.

Another loud thunder disturbed the peace of the night which made him chuckle. “Baby girl”, he whispered, “I kinda got the feeling that your inner world resembles the outer world pretty much.” Chan placed a soft kiss on your temple, careful not to wake you. He held you firmly in his arms as he began talking to you.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to be afraid. Why are you afraid?” Another low chuckle left his lips. “Oh right, you’re not going to answer me right now. That’s okay. Maybe it’s better if you hear it like this for the first time. Y/N, baby girl, I am in love with you. I’ve been head over heels in love with you from the second I saw you. I never believed in love at first sight but here we are. I think you are amazing. Beautiful, smart, kind, funny, insightful, sexy” – he paused, eyeing you once more to check if you were still asleep – “creative, inspiring, strong… I could list a couple more, but I think you get the gist.” His broad smile slowly faded into deep concern.

“I don’t understand why you would ever think that I was going to leave you. You are such a catch. Don’t you think I should be the one worrying?” Still deep in sleep you grabbed a fistful of Chan’s shirt which made him pause again and look at you compassionately.

„I know you are still asleep but that kind of felt like you confirming what I said. Wait, should I be worried?” Chan laughed out loud while grabbing his forehead.

“Oh gosh, look at me. I wanted to take away your fears and now I am feeding mine. But in all seriousness, Y/N, you don’t have to worry about anything. I want you in my life. I want you by my side. I want to be with you – all the time actually. I am the happiest when I am with you. I love being with you. I understand that past experiences have fucked with your head and made you close off your heart, I get that. And I guess you’ll need time to process that and open up again, that’s okay, too. I am here for you. I will be here every single day and reassure you of my love, baby girl.”

By now you stopped talking and tossing altogether, laying peacefully in his arms dreaming away. Chan noticed this too and put another sweet kiss on your head. “It’s like you understood every word I said. Maybe you did? Can you grab my shirt again or something?” He waited cautiously but nothing happened. A broad smile formed again on his lips.

“Y/N, you are worthy of love. You are worthy of my love. I don’t think you’re good enough. You are more than enough. You are everything. Perfect, just the way you are. You don’t have to change a single thing. In fact, I love everything about you. Can you believe that? Can you trust me? Can you trust in love? Relationships are actually kind of beautiful if you think about it. I will be your best friend and you will be mine. And we’ll go through life together handling the ups and downs - smiling, crying, evolving, fucking. I can’t wait for everything that we’ll experience in the future. Please don’t ever be afraid of me leaving you. I am here to stay – forever… if you let me.”

Chan whispered the last part into your ear hoping that it would get right through to you. He did not know if you could drop your fears of abandonment just like that, but he would never give up. On you. Or your relationship. Ever.

#skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz smut #stray kids au #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #mykoreanlove #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #skz angst #skz bang chan #skz chan smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids boyfriend #stray kids chris #christopher bang #christopher bang chan #christopher bang x reader #christopher bang smut #bangchan #stray kids #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #skz chan fluff #skz channie

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Two

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.9k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings

They finally meet

One year later...

The message comes out of the blue. The first time I've heard from John Price in a whole month, and it's a fucking text message.

I'm watching TV, curled up in a ball on the sofa next to my best friend and flatmate Winslow "Winnie" Sloane, when my phone pings. I think about ignoring it until I catch a glimpse of his name. It's an unspoken rule between the two of us - we never knowingly ignore one another. Obviously, he can't reply to my messages when he's on ops, but that's different - that's not wilful.

I pick it up without hesitation and take a look.

JOHN PRICE: Tali, I need a favour. It's urgent.

My heart drops.

TALIA KELLER: What's happened? JOHN PRICE: Call me. I'll explain.

So, I do. I tap Winnie on the shoulder and rise up to my feet, shuffling off to my bedroom so I don't disturb her episode of Slow Horses. When I'm safely shut behind my bedroom door, I tap on the call button, dreading what's awaiting me on the other end of the line.

"John?" my voice is full of nerves as the call connects, echoing slightly around the room.

"God am I glad to hear your voice, Tali." He sounds haggard, his own voice tired and hollow. It's not hard to tell that he's fresh off an op. I can already imagine how drained he looks; can picture the dark circles shading his eyes and his scruffy too-long beard.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly brave, I try to talk him into leaving the service. I think about Alex and his death, and I hate that John still knowingly puts himself in harm's way day and night. He's the only serving soldier I know now - I never met any of the other members of their unit - and I desperately wish that he'll retire soon.

"How are you?" he follows up, voice puncturing through my thoughts.

"I'm okay. At home with Winnie. How's Marcella?"

A soft sigh leaves him at the mention of his long-suffering wife. I wonder if he's even had a chance to see her yet. "Last we spoke, she was perfectly fine. Misses you though. You need to come over for dinner soon."

An easy laugh leaves me. Winnie and John aren't the only ones who've been supporting me since Alex died. John's wife Marcie has been there every step of the way too, helping me through rough patches whenever John is away on deployments. And Winnie's never been anything but kind and understanding - it's not in her nature to be anything but.

"Soon," I mumble in agreement. There's a sound on the other end of the line in the background, a murmured snippet of conversation and a drawn-out groan followed by a soft shut up. "Not alone?"

"Got some company," John admits. "Speaking of... does Winslow still have that big trip coming up?"

My palms slick with sweat. Yes. Yes, she does.

Ever since her big promotion six months ago, Winnie's job now involves a lot more travelling than it used to. And - because of that - in three days' time, she'll be in France, starting a month-long assignment helping a struggling marketing firm in Paris.

And I'll be alone.

It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I've always had this thing about being alone. It's part of the reason why I live with Winnie; why I've been seeing a therapist since I was sixteen; why I struggle to have normalcy. My current therapist thinks that it's a form of abandonment issues from being orphaned at a young age, which has led to my inability to maintain stable relationships. The therapist before that thought it was something completely different; that I seek to form attachments but wilfully don't, self-sabotaging and creating my own permanent sense of loneliness. But, my point is, I don't react anywhere near as badly to it as I did when I was a kid.

I still remember when I was fifteen and Alex left for his first deployment. I was still living with our maternal grandmother at the time, and I completely shut down. I holed up in my room for almost a whole month, refusing to speak and barely eating or sleeping. I could hardly function for worrying about him...

"Tali?"

I snap out of it. "Sorry. Yes."

"Could you... could I possibly bring some of my guys to your apartment? Just while Winslow is away. Our safehouse in the area has been taken out of action and we need somewhere to lay low for a little while."

My guys. The unit.

"What about your place?" My brow furrows. Surely Marcella wouldn't mind a few guests. She's calm and motherly and takes great pride in hosting. I'm sure she'd be in the element with them.

John clears his throat awkwardly. "Not an option. They don't know."

Ah. The brave, almighty Captain John Price still hasn't told his team that he's married. Typical.

I roll my eyes. "Okay. I hope you know that we're coming back to that later." A beat of silence passes. "How many people are we talking, John? Because it's a two-bedroom flat in London. It's spacious but it's hardly the Tardis."

He snorts out a dry laugh. "Only two. One of the lads is local so he's got family around here he can stay with. And there's some stuff I've got to get done, so I'll be hopping from base to base."

"Where are they going to sleep? Are they going to mind sharing a bed? Because the sofa is comfortable, but I know how you army guys are built..."

There's an awkward silence on Price's end as I hear him shifting around. It takes me a second to realise that he's covering his mouth against his phone's microphone. "Yeah... that's, um- that won't be an issue for them."

Oh.

Oh.

"Okay. Cool. I'll take them."

I wince. Why the fuck did I say cool? Of all the ways that I could respond and I choose that. Way to go, Tali.

"Are you sure that you're okay with this, Tali?" Price asks, his voice soft and encouraging. "If you aren’t, we can find something else-"

"Price, I'll take them in. Winnie leaves on Tuesday morning, so just have them swing by around then, okay?"

Favour asked and questions answered, we say our goodbyes and hang up. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts before padding back into the living room. The moment I step through the hallway, Winslow pauses the TV, angling her head up to look at me. A cloud of black curly hair frames her beautiful face, dark eyes wide and expectant. "Is John back home?"

I wince, getting ready to launch into an explanation. "Not quite."

Tuesday morning rolls around all too soon. By 9 a.m. I'm sitting cross-legged on the foot of Winnie's bed as she packs up her stuff. I can't help but feel a pang of anxiety strike deep in my chest.

"Are you sure that you're gonna be okay?" Winnie asks, almost like she can read my mind.

I meet her dark, knowing gaze and offer her a smile. "Winnie, I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. If I need anything, I can call Marcella."

She smiles, running a hand through her freshly braided hair. The pearls attached to some strands clink together softly. "Okay. Good. But you've got to call me once a week at least, okay?" Before I can reassure her that I will, she adds, "And you've got to text me every day."

"Winslow, I will. Stop stressing, please."

A moment of easy silence passes before the laughter starts. Both of us crack up, her eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.

Once we've both calmed down, I take a closer look at her cases. She's packing almost everything she owns. It's a sight that worries me, so I look away, deciding to look out of the window instead.

A loud, firm knock on the front door saves me just as Winnie is packing up her last suitcase. We exchange a look before I'm up on my feet, scrambling to answer it. I can't lie, I'm curious to meet John's friends. But I'm also sad. Because there's a strong possibility that they knew Alex too. That they were with him when he died.

When I open the door, there's two men standing in the hallway, just like John said there would be. The first has short brown hair styled into a mohawk, the sides cropped close to his scalp but the top and back left longer. He's broad-chested, muscular too; built like a grizzly bear. And, even though his complexion has a slightly pallid hue under the overhead lights, it's not hard to imagine that he's usually quite tan.

And then there's his friend. Standing next to the grizzly bear and at least half-a-foot taller than him, he has the expression of a man who wants to break me apart with his bare hands just to see what's inside. I fight to meet his intense gaze, taking catalogue of the features visible under the dark hood of his black sweatshirt. His eyes are hazel - I think - skin tanned from what I'd assume are long hours spent out in the sun, and I can't quite make out his hair colour. He's equally if not more muscular than his friendlier-looking counterpart. My eyes trail down to his mouth, drawn to the scar bisecting his bottom lip. It doesn't draw away from his attractiveness though; just adds to the sense of rugged charm that I'm getting from him.

Not that it should matter. It doesn't. They're here because they need help; not because they want to be ogled by a complete stranger.

"Are you John's friends?" I ask stupidly, as if they could be anyone else.

The grizzly bear nods. "Aye. And you are?"

Scottish. Nice. I've always loved the accent, but his is even better. There's a humour there; something uniquely his. It makes me want to keep him talking just so I can hear it more.

"Tali." I step back so that they can come inside. They hesitate for a second before following me into the living room, the tall, silent one closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Also John's friend."

The grizzly bear plops straight down onto the couch, stretching out with no hesitation and making himself at home. His arms drape over the backrest, a lazy grin forming on his lips as he watches me take a seat on my armchair. The tall one gives him a reprimanding look, hovering beside the window behind him. His light eyes are always alert; darting around the room like something's going to jump out at any second.

"You army?" he asks, expression wary. His voice is all gravel with a Manchester accent.

I offer him a small smile. "Nope." I don't think anyone could mistake me for a soldier. I'm small - short and slender - and skittish at the best of times. "So... what should I call you?"

Hazel eyes narrow at me. "Ghost."

The grizzly bear rolls his eyes dramatically, offering me a wide, disarming grin. It's blatantly obvious that he's overcompensating for him. "Callsign is Soap, but a pretty lass like you can call me Johnny."

My heart flutters.

It takes a second to remember what John had said on the phone. Sharing a bed won't be an issue for them. The awkward, implying tone he'd said it in. In other words, neither of them are meant for me.

Ghost eases away from the window to stand just behind the sofa, drawing closer to Johnny. Johnny, on the other hand, moves so that he's leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees as he cocks his head at me. "A friend of Captain Price, are ye?"

I nod softly. "Yes."

"Funny that," Ghost barks, tilting his head to one side. "He's never mentioned you." Thinly veiled suspicion drifts off of him in waves, and it makes me feel endlessly uncomfortable. His harsh gaze melts through my skin and bones, boring deep into my soul.

I shift in my seat. "He never mentioned either of you to me, so I don't think that counts for much."

Johnny lets out a loud laugh. "I think I'm gonna like ye, Tali. Not many people talk back to 'im."

It's in that moment - as I'm silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me whole - that Winnie steps out of her room, suitcases in tow. She walks into the living room, depositing them by the front door before coming over to introduce herself, a sceptical look on her face.

She levels Ghost with an icy glare, not looking away from him as she asks me, "Everything all okay here, Tali?"

"Yeah, it's alright Winnie." I gesture to each of John's friends in turn. "Winnie, this is Johnny." He raises his hand and waves, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "And that is Ghost." I point to looming, ominous figure behind him.

"Ghost?" she repeats slowly. I nod. "Okay, well I'm leaving now. Tali, I love you and I'll miss you. Remember to call me." She bends at the waist to hug me, wrapping me up in her warm, vanilla-scented embrace. As she straightens, she glares at each of the men in turn. "And you two - don't give her any shit. If I find out you've made her feel uncomfortable even once, not even John will be able to save you. Got it?"

Johnny stares up at my friend, mystified. His blue eyes are bright as he nods. "Don't worry. We won't be any trouble."

Winnie turns back to face me. "Right, I've got to go or I'll miss my ride to the airport. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone, okay?"

"I know," I say, my voice soft. "I love you. Be safe and text me when you land."

With a nod, Winnie presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head then gets her last few bits together. And then she leaves. Leaving me alone with two complete strangers. Yay.

"So," I grumble, struggling against the urge to shy away from their intense gazes in the safety of my room, "do you want to see where you'll be staying?"

Later that night, the three of us gather in the living room to watch TV.

The guys didn't have much to unpack. They travelled light so I'm going to have to go shopping sometime soon to buy them some essentials; more clothes and toiletries. Definitely food too. If dinner tonight was any indication, they eat a lot.

I'm curled up in my armchair again, watching something that Johnny chose on Netflix. Every once and a while, I glance across at them. Ghost is sitting upright, legs stretched out in front of him. His legs are so long that his feet are tucked under the coffee table. And then there's Johnny. He's laying on his side on the sofa, his head resting on Ghost's muscular thighs. Every now and then, Ghost's hand runs down the length of Johnny's side, stroking him in soothing, rhythmic motions.

Looking at them, I can't help but feel a sense of longing. Jealousy that they're together and obviously quite happy. That they're comfortable enough around one another for these subconscious displays of affection.

I'll never have that. It's something that I've come to accept. I'm twenty-five now and I've never had a serious relationship. I don't even think I want one. For a period of time in my late teens, I thought that I might be aro-ace, but over time I've gathered that I do feel romantic and sexual attraction. It's just different.

The sad truth is that I don't trust anyone enough to believe that they'd stay with me. Love me. Make me feel safe enough for displays of casual affection. There would always be that looming sense of dread that they'd leave me sooner or later.

In my head, I've justified it. If I don't get into relationships, no one can leave me. Alex's death all but solidified that for me.

The rom-com Johnny picked out gets to a comedic scene - a naked beach fight - and he starts to chuckle. I join him and I swear even Ghost lets out a little snort. We're all laughing until...

"Fuck. Johnny, you're bleeding."

My heart crawls up into my throat. My eyes snap across to them, blatantly looking now. The white t-shirt Johnny is wearing is plastered to his side, a red patch seeping through the fabric, spreading across his ribs.

He sits upright, holding it with one large hand. "Ah fuck. Didn't get any on the sofa, did ah'?"

"Fuck the sofa," I splutter out in a panic. "Are you okay? Why are you bleeding? Should I call an ambulance?"

Johnny looks back at me with a quizzical expression while Ghost just sighs, standing up. He walks towards the bedrooms at an unhurried pace, stopping along the way to press a chaste kiss to Johnny's forehead, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, darling, I'll get the bag." Hazel eyes swing towards me, where I'm still panicking in my armchair. "His dressing just needs changing, and I'll check his stitches. He's fine, love."

I ease back into my seat, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Oh."

Ghost leaves the room, heading into my bedroom to get the aforementioned bag. I've decided to give them my room for the duration of their stay because it has an en-suite. It eliminates the risk of me accidentally stumbling in on them in the shared bathroom that doesn't have a working lock. Overall, it's safer for everyone that I'm staying in Winnie's room.

Feeling more than a little foolish for my outburst, I offer Johnny a weak smile. "I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, Johnny."

"Ye sure?" he asks, blue eyes tinted with a hint of... something. Maybe disappointment? I don't know. "The movie isn't over yet. You seemed like ye were enjoying it." His brow furrows. "We could watch something else."

"I'm sure. It's fine; I'm just tired. We can watch another movie tomorrow night if you want."

His eyes light up at that. "Yeah, sounds perfect."

I'm back in Winnie's room by the time Ghost leaves mine. I can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway. Hear their muffled conversation and muted laughter.

As I fall asleep, I can't help but feel a different kind of loneliness. And, as I drift off, my heart aches for what Ghost and Johnny have.

a/n: guess who's back! so Tali has finally met the boys :) sorry if this part is a little short, just wanted to get something out in time for christmas for you guys - merry christmas and take care of yourselves, lapetitelapin

#cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon “ghost” riley x reader #soap x reader #callofduty #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost x reader #female reader #romance #angst #poly #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny x reader x simon #double the love

[half-oz-eddie]

Attached, like that ❤️‍🩹 internalized homophobia tw

"...I think I'm getting too attached to you." Billy said randomly, eating the soft pretzel Steve brought him on their lunch breaks.

"What? Whaddya mean?" Steve wondered, passing the shared drink between them.

"We spend a lot of time together lately. Now, whenever I don't see you, I'm..." He fought to hold back, or tried to, but if he couldn't talk to Steve, he felt like he couldn't talk to anyone. "I get pissed when I don't get to see you. Not pissed at you, just—pisses me off. I dunno."

"I think that's normal." Steve reassured.

"I don't think it is."

"It is." Steve confirmed again. "I get pretty bummed when we can't hang out too. Only difference is...everything pisses you off. So you show anger for all your emotions."

Billy tusked, narrowing his eyes at Steve. "Fuck you."

"Lighten up." Steve playfully nudged. "I'm not givin' you shit about it. Just saying."

"Okay so, what, it's normal to be upset when we don't see each other?"

"I think so." Steve nodded. "We're friends."

"Do you get upset when you can't see Robin? Or those dweebs?"

"Hm...Now that I think about it..." He shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. "No. It doesn't bother me at all."

"So then we're too attached to each other." Billy deduced. "You know this is pussy shit, right? To be attached to another guy?"

"So what if it is?" Steve shrugged. "You mean a lot to me, Billy. We've been getting along so much better than I could've imagined."

"I can't be...that way." Billy stared off, a tense, pained look on his face. "I can't...feel these things for you. It's not natural."

"If it wasn't natural, why do we feel like this?"

"I don't have all the fuckin answers, Harrington." Billy snapped. "It...feels like I did something wrong. I did something to make me like this."

Steve turned to Billy, hoping for clarity. "Billy...do you like me?"

Billy growled as he sprang up from the spot he sat with Steve, turning his back to him. "Yeah. I fuckin like you, alright? I couldn't help it. Couldn't control my feelings. Gonna fuck off and never talk to me again, now?"

"No. I think...I like you too. I didn't think I was...that way either. But I feel the same way I felt about Nancy about you. I didn't choose this. It just happened."

Billy turned his attention back to Steve. "We gotta make it stop, Harrington. We gotta make this shit go away so we can still hang out without...becoming..." He let out a defeated sigh. "Neil would kill me."

Steve stood, slowly grabbing Billy's hand.

Billy's heart skipped a beat when their fingers touched. He pulled away and turned his back to Steve once more. "We can't do this."

"Do you wanna do this?"

Billy shrugged.

Steve stared at Billy's tense back and scrunched up shoulders, overhearing a soft sniffle.

He peeked over at Billy's face, spotting the tears when Billy pointedly turned away.

Steve placed comforting hands on Billy's shoulders prompting him to loosen up. "Look at me. C'mon." He coaxed. "We stayed up all night on prom night, talking shit and drinking. We've seriously bonded, man. You know you can tell me anything."

"I wish I didn't tell you this." Billy admitted. "Now I feel like I lost my friend."

Steve slowly spun Billy around. "No matter what happens, you're always gonna be my friend, alright? We can pretend this conversation didn't happen if you want to."

"Don't you want to?" Billy questioned. "You don't wanna be...this either, right?"

"I don't really mind. I've already come to terms with this awhile ago. But if it's too hard for you, I don't mind that either. As long as we can still hang out."

Billy intertwined his pinky with Steve's. "I can't just be your friend. The feelings aren't gonna disappear. They're too strong."

Steve gently grasped Billy's chin. Billy's heart began to race with excitement and fear. He worriedly glanced around, and Steve turned his head back towards him. "We're alone. No one's ever disturbed us in the 2 months we've been hanging out in this shed."

Billy sighed. "I fuckin' know that, but it doesn't mean I'm not scared."

"Let's take this one step at a time, then. How about a kiss—"

"No." Billy immediately refused. "If I kiss you, I'm never gonna be able to stop thinking about you. Then I'll really be in deep."

Steve laughed. "I never took you for a worrier, Billy."

"Yeah, well, I never took me for a lot of things...but here we are."

"Listen, Billy. It's our life. We can do whatever we want, and we don't have to tell anyone anything about how we feel or...what we are. We can just...be two pals in public, and we can be who we really are in the privacy of my house."

Billy liked the idea of being able to be his true self with Steve. He needed to shed away some of the expectations from his father and sort his shit out a bit, but he knew one thing for certain: He wanted Steve.

"So you like me, huh? You really like me?"

Steve nodded with certainty. "Yeah. I really do."

"So you like...wanna fuck me and stuff?" Billy asked teasingly, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

Steve turned red at the thought. "I—" He laughed. "Maybe—how about...a kiss first?"

Billy finally agreed, his lips slowly meeting Steve's. They were soft and welcoming, and tasted like pepsi and bananas. Weird combination, sure, but it was Steve's lips he kissed, and that was the best part of all.

"I uh...I have to get back to work." Steve spoke softly, their lips still ghosting one another's.

"Me too. But I'll see you later, right?"

Steve nodded. "I can't wait."

Billy stole one more kiss and watched as Steve hurried out of the shed.

They hadn't discussed the nature of their relationship just yet, but Billy wanted to take one step at a time. Each step with Steve was another step toward Billy becoming his own person.

He realized...it was okay to be...like that with Steve. It was better than being like Neil.

Billy went back to his lifeguard chair, smiling to himself, thinking about the next time he'd kiss Steve's lips.

#internalized homophobia #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ivy.doc #harringrovelovefest2024

[sydneyhasdepression33]

She Keeps Me Up (Nickelback)

Summary: You are Rhys's little sister (only by like 7-8 years), and you and Cassian have been flirting with each other for the last few months. You want it to go further but he's your brother's best friend and he probably only sees you as a sister anyway. Little do you know, Cassian can't stop picturing you in not-so-innocent scenarios.

Word Count:  2.5K

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, might be some cringe happening so I apologize, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), light choking, and idk other interesting things. 

A/N: First time posting on here! Idc if you don't like this cuz I do lol. Anyway, enjoy Cassian ;)

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The sweat is pouring down your face and neck, despite the cold, snowy night air around you. You’ve been out here for hours with a sword in your hands, running through the training drills you’ve seen the males do every day. Up, over, down, up, side, in, down, repeat. 

You are so focused on getting the movements right, you don't hear the footsteps approaching. “Well, look who I found,” says a low voice behind you. 

Your heart races as you spin on your heel, holding your weapon level with the stranger's midsection. As you take him in, you recognize the winged male before you. “For the love of the Mother Cassian! You fucking scared me.” You say without lowering your sword. 

Cassian chuckles, looking you up and down. You are wearing leather training gear, with your raven hair tied back in an elaborate braid. Your wings are nowhere in sight, and the moon is reflecting off your sapphire eyes. 

You two stay like this for a few seconds, him standing in front of you as you keep your blade trained on him. You're the first to speak. “What are you doing out here Cas?” you lower the Illyrian sword, sheathing it at your hip, then cross your arms as you glare at him.  

His gaze is piercing, but you’ve seen it so many times that you're unfazed by it. “I was looking for you. Rhys noticed that you weren’t in your room, and sent me out to find you.” He grins. “But I never thought I’d find you with a sword in your hand, going through the moves better than any of the males your age.” he steps towards you, so you take a step back with a small smile on your face. 

“Well, you’ve found me, but I’m not going home till I get this down pat.”  You say as you reach for your sword. Cassian takes another step forwards, so you take another one backward. 

“I don’t think so, y/n. You can finish up tomorrow morning in town where the animals of these forests can’t get you.” He smirks, but you see a glint of something other than his usual arrogance in his eyes. Is that actual concern? 

Deciding you don’t want to play fair, you take a step closer to close the distance between the two of you. You can see his breath coming out in clouds and the damn smirk that’s still on his gorgeous face. You stand on your toes so you’re close to his face and whisper, “I’ll go with you, but only if you can catch me.” without giving him time to register what you said, you take off into the dark woods.

Cauldron boil him alive. Cassian knew you’d be in the forest, you always were, but he never thought that he would find you looking like a warrior goddess in those oh-so-tight leathers, wielding a real Illyrian sword like it was nothing. Mother above, you were beautiful. He almost didn't want to disturb you, but Rhys had been worried, so he’d bring you back to the house. Then you closed the space between the two of you, and he started to come up with other ideas that should not be going through his head. Gods, he wanted you so bad. But you were Rhys’ sister so it could never happen. That Rhysand would know about, anyway. He was about to cross the line when you turned the other way and disappeared. 

“Fuck!” Cassian exclaimed. He scanned the dark woods around him, but you were gone. Looking up at the stars, he started to laugh. You want to play? Then game on. 

You're running through the thick trees. You can hear Cassian laughing in the distance and smile to yourself. You know he's not going to go down without a fight, so you pick up your pace, looking around and keeping your senses on high alert for animals and Illyrians alike. You reach a tall tree just outside of a cave and decide to trick him further. 

You summon your wings as you run toward the cave. You only go in a few steps and then fly out and up a tree. Putting your wings away, you perch on a branch, waiting for Cassian to find your tacks and enter the cave. 

You're not sure why you have to constantly tease him, that's just how your relationship has always been. But the last few months have felt different. They have felt like you're not just throwing words back and forth anymore. The tension you feel when he walks in a room, the way your stomach lurches when he hits you with his signature lopsided grin, or how when he looks at you it seems to light you on fire.

 Oh how you’ve wished to cross the line of friends and be more, but how could he feel the same? He’s your brother's best friend and has known you your whole life. He probably only thinks of you as Rhysands annoying younger sister. He was sent out here to fetch you after all. 

A snapping sound from the ground brings you back to the present. You assume it’s Cassian, having followed your footprints. But the creature you see is not your handsome Illyrian. 

Your heart beats faster when you see the sheer size of the beast. It’s covered in fur, with a tail and a massive body. Its head is about the size of a boulder, and with the light from the moon, you can see long talon-like teeth protruding from its mouth. It's sniffing at your footprints in the snow leading into the cave. It disappears from sight as you slowly make your way down the tree where you were hiding. 

You have to find Cassian. And as if the Mother herself was listening, you catch a glimpse of his wings out of the corner of your eye. You quietly make your way to him. He has his back to you, so you sneak up and put your hand over his mouth so he won't make a sound. 

Cassian freezes. Then in a blur of movement, you're pinned to the snowy forest floor with Cas on top of you. 

Cassian's heart is racing as he pins the person down. He's been on edge since he saw very large animal tracks heading in the same direction as yours. He was almost frantic scouring the trees for you. But as he looks at who he has pinned, he heaves a sigh of relief. You are not being eaten alive. 

Your eyes are dilated as you look up at him, smiling slightly. 

“We have to get out of here,” Cassian whispers. You nod your head as he gets off of you. But you're pulling him back down so he's flush against your chest.

Cassian looks at you with questioning eyes but you answer with a searing kiss.

You’re not entirely sure what came over you. Him pinning you down and looking at you the way he was. You had no words to describe what you felt at that moment. You just kissed him.

His mouth was hot and his lips chapped from the cold air. At first, you thought he was going to pull away and look at you like you were crazy, so you started to pull away yourself. But before you could fully detach your lips, his mouth came down hard on yours. There was heat and passion in the kiss. A hunger you thought he didn’t feel, but with the fierceness, he slid his hands up your shirt and groaned into your mouth which made you realize that you were not the only one who was desperate for the other. 

You broke the kiss reluctantly, looking into his dark eyes. “We should probably go back before that creature I saw gets us.” you manage to say between your pants. Cassian simply nods and you are up in the sky. 

Cassian always prided himself on being able to keep his composure, but flying back to Windhaven with you in his arms, kissing his neck, and winding your fingers through his unbound hair was going to shatter him. He lands hard on the doorstep, letting you stand on your own. He pushes the door open to find the house empty. 

You walk over to the kitchen table, where a note is placed. You turn to face him, reading what is on the paper. “Rhysand had to go back to Valaris, so we have the house to ourselves.” The smile you gave him was pure sin. 

Cassian didn’t have control over his own body when it closed the distance and connected your lips to his. His hands went straight to your waist to pull you closer, as yours wound through his wind-swept hair. The noises that came from your mouth had Cas wrapping your legs around him and moving to the closest bedroom. 

What Cassian would never be able to forget was how much he loved it when you said “What’s wrong with right here on the counter?” His knees almost gave out. He set you on the edge of the counter while sliding his hands up your training shirt to take it off. You were just as eager as you undid the laces of his pants, making him lean into your touch and groan. 

He was big. You’ve been with males before, but never one who compared to Cassian. He was working on your tight pants as you started kissing his neck, leaving marks along his jaw and shoulder. He tasted like night air and sweat, and Mother was it sexy. Keeping your hand in his unbound pants, you moved to get closer, but he held you still.

“You keep doing that love, and this will be over far sooner than I want it to be,” Cassian growled in your ear, making a surge of heat go straight to your core. 

Cassian pulled down your leggings and sucked in a deep breath, and you remembered that you had nothing on underneath them. What can you say, it's more comfortable to train with just the leggings. Next thing you know, you're laying flat on your back and Cassian has his head between your legs, looking you dead in the eye. 

“If you want me to stop, I will.'' The look on his face is one of the most serious you’ve seen. You nod your head.

“I don’t want you to stop Cass.” You reply with a shaky breath. 

He smirks and dives in. 

He licks your slit and feels you shiver and gasp at the action. So he does it again, and again. You taste so good, he’ll never be able to get enough of you, and by the way you’re moaning and gripping his hair, you’re loving this. His hands move up your thighs to your hips and squeeze. At the same time, he bit down on her clit. 

“Cassian!” you cry out. Your voice was music to his ears, encouraging him to go faster. He added a finger to tease your entrance, and without warning plunged in.

His finger hit a spot in you that you didn’t know existed. Arching your back off the counter as he ate you out like a starved male, you threaded your fingers threw his hair and pulled him away from you. He looked up at you with a question in his eyes. Do you want to stop? 

“I want you inside me, now Cass.” That was all you said. 

Cassian hauled you up and took you to your bedroom. The whole way there you were stripping both of your remaining clothes, leaving a trail down the hall and up the stairs. Cassian's lips leave open-mouthed kisses on any bare skin he can reach and your combing your fingers through his hair, loving the feeling of him underneath you. 

Next thing you know, your back hits your massive Illyrian bed, and a massive Illyrian is on top of you, staring down at you with dark hungry eyes. His mouth connects with yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, being careful of his wings. You groan into him at the feeling of his hard cock pressed against your entrance. Cassian takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Not wanting to be outdone, you trace your hand over where his wing connects to his muscular back. He growls and bites down on your bottom lip then goes to bite down on where your shoulder and neck join. 

“Cassian, if you're going to fuck me, fuck me already.” You said and his teeth grazed the top of your breast.

“Needy are we?” He takes his lips off my skin. You’re about to protest, but all that comes out is a loud moan as Cassian lines up with your entrance and thrusts in. 

“Mmmh love you feel so good wrapped around me and moaning under me.” His words are dripping with lust as he starts to pick up his pace and devour your lips. 

Your skin is on fire and you feel a tell-tale knot forming in your lower stomach. It’s almost too much when you run your nails down his back and he moans as you brush against his wings. You feel his cock twitch inside you, so you wrap your legs around his waist and full-on caress the leathery membrane. 

Cassian stops his movements, and in a split second his large hand is wrapped around your throat, not stopping air flow, but it's enough pressure that you stop touching his wings. “Think you can top from down there?” he growls getting closer to your ear. “I don’t think so love.” his thrusts become punishingly fast and hard. 

The whole bed is shaking as you tilt your head back, Cassian's hand still holding you down by your throat. You smile at the feeling, but it’s soon replaced with a scream that sounds like the Illyrian's name when he uses his free hand to play with your clit. 

“Cas- I’m so close, pleas-” 

You fall, no hurl, over the edge when Cass whispers “Cum for me beautiful, let me see you come undone.” and come undone is exactly what you do. 

Your vision is spattered with stars as wave after wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you. Cassian isn’t far behind you. Two sloppy thrusts later and the male is practically roaring as his release hits him. 

He falls to his side beside you, both of you are breathing heavily and are covered in a sheen of sweat. You look over at him, expecting him to get up and head to his part of the house, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up and goes to get a wet cloth and cleans you both up.

“Cass,” you start, but he silences you with a kiss.

“We’ll talk in the morning. Right now I just want to fall asleep with you. Okay?” The look in his eyes melts your heart. How could you say no to him?

“Okay,” you reply and snuggle closer to his warm chest.

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

Thanks for reading!

#cassian smut #cassian x reader #acotar #cassian x you #acotar smut #rhysand sister #smut #this kinda just happened guys idk

[ecoamerica]

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#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

they managed to massacre Aang's character and all the struggle and importance of his choice in the finale in a SINGLE page, and yet there are people who think the comics are good

and of course Katara's would have nothing to say on the matter, toootally in-character

Not to mention: yes, Zuko is right that a lifetime of indoctrination won't magically stop affecting him just because he's aware of it now, but the way the comics really said "If you're not perfect, you deserve to die. Not rehabilitation, not even incarceration despite it being an option, just straight to violent, lethal punishment" is horrying.

And lets not forget the blatant abuse apologism of having Zuko, the kid who was told by his abusive parent that his disfigurement and banishment was "for his own good" after he made one "mistake", turning to his closest friends and asking them to be his "safety net" by MURDERING HIM IF EVER STEPS OUT OF LINE - and said friends then agree to it.

Are you fucking kidding me? The real Aang would have double-down on the "You're NOT your father" bit, and the entire friend group would have been super concerned about Zuko because a victim of abuse saying they're as bad as their abuser thus deserve to die is one hell of a red flag as to how their mental health is going.

Speaking of mental health: I talk a lot about how Azula was constantly being abused by the supposed heroes in the comics, and how the justification of it is rooted in ableism, but this nonsense with Zuko asking to be put down like a dog is also peak victim blaming, and one of the few moments in which one can actually feel bad for comics!Zuko.

And it ties into a disturbing pattern I noticed among Avatar fans - and mainly Zuko fans. They don't truly understand that what Ozai put his children through was wrong, they simply think he chose the wrong kid as the escapegoat. They think Azula should have been the one that is constantly punished just for existing, while Zuko is the golden child that can do no wrong - or else.

This moment right here? With the people that he trusts agreeing to inflict violence on him if he ever makes a mistake? This is that "or else". This is literally the same mentality that led to Azula's breakdown because NO ONE CAN SURVIVE UNDER THAT MUCH PRESSURE.

And that leads us to the main reason why the comcis suck: Yang was using Zuko as a self-insert.

"Zuko‘s relationship with Ozai is something we – Mike, Brian, Dark Horse, Nickelodeon, and I – talked about extensively when we first started working together. There’s this strange thing that happens to people in power. The pressures of power often blur the lines between enemies. That’s part of what happens to Zuko here. Ozai is the only one who knows what it’s like to be Fire Lord, the only one who has the wisdom of experience. I also looked at my own life. I used to clash with my dad quite a bit when I was a teenager. However, as I grew up and found myself in roles that he used to have, I began to understand more and more of his decisions. My father isn't thoroughly evil, of course, but I imagine Zuko feels a little of the same pull."

Yang. My guy. My dude. The words "Ozai" and "wisdom" should NEVER be in the same sentence. Every single action of Ozai's as Fire Lord was based on him being an abusive piece of shit that finally got access to absolute power. He is not a stern dad, he is abusive. He's not misunderstood, he needed to be stopped and locked away. He is a human being with feelings and motivations, yes, but he is WRONG ABOUT LITERALLY EVERYTHING EVER. He NEVER had a point. Zuko has nothing to learn from him except what NOT to do. That's why he looks like an older, unscarred Zuko. A version of Zuko that never changed.

This is the core issue of the comics, and why it had so many moments of unintentional abuse apologism: they say Ozai is a villain, but they're going out of their way to constantly make the characters come dangerously close to saying "Maybe he had a point." That's why they have Zuko turn to Ozai for advice despite claiming he wants to avoid becoming like him - because the guy writting them couldn't understand that the bad guy was, in fact, bad and in the wrong and has no wisdom to offer to anyone.

Avatar, the series, is about the world moving past from the sick mentality people like Ozai had, and about his son realizing that he did not deserve to be abused. The Avatar Comics are about telling Zuko (and others) "Ozai isn't wrong actually, you'll understand when you're older."

No, Yang, they won't. Because there's nothing to "understand" here other than THE GUY THAT ABUSED HIS CHILDREN AND COMMITED GENOCIDE WAS WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING, YOU DUMBASS!

Saying "the villain had a point" does not make a story better unless it is true - and in Ozai's case, it simply isn't. Insisting otherwise doesn't make the story and characters more mature, it just means you couldn't understand a cartoon aimed at 7-year-olds despite being a grown-ass man.

And I won't even get into Bryke approving of this bullshit otherwise I'll start tearing my hair out in rage at how badly they seem to have lost touch with the message of their best work, so let me just use a simple statemet to make everyone understand just how much of a disaster this is:

Even M. Night Shyamalan didn't misunderstand ATLA to the point of thinking Ozai wasn't actually wrong, but Bryan, Mike and Yang did. The comics understand the show less than M. Night Shyamalan did.

I rest my fucking case.

#atla comics #the comics suck #zuko deserved better #azula deserved better

[stvrrlightts]

eren jeager nsfw!

a few too many drinks and a couple of secrets spilled. one thing lead to another and eren wakes up in y/ns bed.

"get up jeager"

eren groaned, his head pounding. he had obviously drank too much last night. "jeager get the fuck up" the familiar voice startled him. why was someone in his bed?

eren opened his eyes. realising it was not in fact his bed, but an unfamiliar room that he had never been in before. he came face to face with someone he did not expect to see. y/n.

"why am i here?" eren snapped "did we fuck?" y/n burst into laughter. she shook her head in distaste. "ew no" she pulled a shirt over her head.

"then what the hell happened last night?" his head was still throbbing. y/n threw him a bottle of water and some painkillerse.

"someone obviously can't handle their alcohol"

she joked "you don't shut up when your drunk"

eren was confused. "huh?" y/n raised her eyebrows. "I can't believe you don't remember" she snickered.

______

y/n lay in her room. sipping from her glass as they watched the sky from her bedroom window.

"heyyyyy beautiful" eren walked into y/ns room. he slurred his words, obviously too drunk for his own good. y/n smiled warmly, she wasn't sure why eren left the party but she couldn't be bothered to ask. she had also had a few drinks but wasn't nearly as wasted as eren was. eren and

y/n never usually got along but they had their moments together.

eren sat next to y/n and sat his head on their shoulder. y/n froze, only a few hours prior they had been arguing about who was a better soldier.

"you smell good" eren murmured into their neck. this was something y/n definitely wasn't used to.

eren burrier further into her neck. his breath gently tickled her neck. y/n savoured this moment. she would never tell eren this but y/n really admired him.

"y/n?" eren lifted his head and looked y/n in the eyes. "whats up?" she replied. "can i ask you something?" he queried. y/n smiled "of course" eren looked down to his fidgeting hands and back up to y/n "why don't you like me?" he seemed hurt

"what have i done?"

y/n had no idea he felt this way. " i do like you jeager, i just think you're very irritating sometimes" eren relaxed slightly. his face flushed red from whatever he was drinking

"oh"

y/n gave him a comforting look. he put his head back onto her shoulder and whispered "I don't think you're irritating" he began to fall into a gentle slumber "i think you're wonderful and beautiful and i wish i could kiss you"

a few seconds passed and eren was slightly snoring on y/ns shoulder. did he really mean that? or was it the alcohol talking? did she want it to be true?

after a few minutes erens snores began to louden. y/n thought about waking him up but decided not to disturb his sleep. she fell asleep soon after but not before whispering to the sleeping boy.

"id like to kiss you too"

______

y/n scooted closer to eren, maybe a little too close. "what are you doing?" he asked trying to cover his obvious blush. y/n stayed quiet for a second.

"do you want to kiss me eren?"

eren was shocked. what did he tell her last night? "wh-what are you talking about y/n?" her faced inched closer to his.

"answer my question" instead of answering them with words, eren closed the gap between them without a single thought.

the kiss felt more than right. y/n pulled away and climbed onto erens lap. all they had done was kissed and eren was already getting hard.

he didn't realise how badly he needed y/n until now. he slithered his hands around y/ns waist pulling her closer to him and began kissing her neck, leaving little purple bruises behind.

y/n could feel his growing bulge beneath them. she took advantage of that. rocking back and forth teasing eren. eren groaned slightly.

he pulled of y/ns shirt leaving her bare chested. eren took a second look take in the view.

he placed his hand onto y/ns breasts with a gentle squeeze, bringing one to his mouth. he gave her nipple a kiss before sucking the hardened bud, playing with the other with his space hand.

erens hands moved from y/n tits down to her ass. squeezing it and pushing them down to cause more friction. he needed

y/n

y/n smirked. "what is it eren?" she asked innocently. eren frowned. he didn't want to say it. "come on jeager what is it?" y/n began to unbutton erens shirt

"i need it" eren whimpered. y/n giggled

"need what?"

"i need you"

y/n smiled in delight. she began to take erens trousers off. brushing her hands over his hard erection.

y/n crawled between erens toned legs and pulled his boxers down, letting erens cock spring out. eren flushed red with embarrassment.

y/n admired the large member for a second before wrapping her hands around it.

she began to stroke erens cock. quite moans slipping from his mouth. y/n placed a long lick from the bottom of the shaft to the pink tip, taking his cock in her mouth. y/n gagged. it took them a few seconds to get used to erens length.

y/n bobbed up and down swirling their tounge around erens tip. eren rolled his head back in enjoyment. he was close

"I've wanted this for so long y/n"

erens words caused y/n to moan on his cock sending eren over the edge. the warm salty liquid filling y/ns throat. they removed her mouth from the softening dick and licked up any spillages. y/n smiled at erens red face.

she crawled back up beside him trying to kiss him. "ew stop it" eren laughed. he wrapped his arms around y/n.

"we should do that again one day y/n"

y/n giggled in reply. "maybe"

wc: 1050

@ stvrrlightts on wattpad

#attack on titan smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren x reader #aot #smut #eren jeager smut

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 2

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 577

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), Blood, Violence, Hurt Comfort, Panic Attack, Crying, Nightmare, Not Edited

A/N: I hope the time jump isn’t too confusing, I figured y'all probably didn't want to read five paragraphs about her crying in her bed for hours.

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

As Nick stormed upstairs, I ran to Chris’s side. “Oh my god.. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” He looked disoriented, but he quickly shut down my apologies. Chris pushed me away, telling me to go find Nick. Once I made sure that Matt was staying with Chris, I ran upstairs banging on Nick’s locked door.

“Go away Y/N!” This can’t happen, I can’t lose Nick… I keep knocking, pleading with him to let me in. After what felt like an eternity the door swung open. My best friend stood in front of me, his face red and covered in tear tracks.

“How long Y/N?” I couldn’t even think of a response before he continued. “I know that you’re a virgin… so you either let my brother lie and say that y’all slept together for some reason, or you have been hiding a relationship behind my back!” The realization finally clicks… shit.

“Im so sorry…”

Think quick Y/N.

“We never meant to hide it for this long.”

Why can’t I just tell him the truth? Everyone would be happier if I did… but I can’t stand the thought of Nick looking at me like I’m some broken doll, fragile and lonely.

The door slams shut in my face, making me jump.

I can’t breathe.

“”“”“”“”“”

I barely hear my door creak open, not registering that someone entered until Chris is sitting in front of me. I don’t even know how long I’ve been curled up in my bed crying, but Chris seems to be patched up. A bruise has blossomed across his cheek, with a small cut in the center of the purple.

His hand reaches out to wipe a tear from my cheek. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to make things bad between you and Nick” He stared practically into my soul. “I just panicked, and I promised you that I wouldn’t tell… I can tell him the truth if you wa-”

I cut him off before he can continue. “I told him we had been secretly dating for a while…” he just stared at me. “He’ll get over it…I think, but I can’t stand it when he looks at me like I’m broken.”

Chris looks like he’s thinking for a second before he finally chooses to speak. “Ok… I’m staying in here tonight.” He responds before I have a chance to object. “I’ll sleep on the floor, but I'm sure as hell not leaving you alone right now."

With that, I rolled over and went to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

“You’re fucking pathetic!” Nick screamed in my face. “I can’t believe you thought me and my brothers liked you… we only tolerate you, because we don’t want to take the blame if you kill yourself.”

No.

“Maybe you should…”

Stop

“Everyone would be happier if you would just kill yourself”

STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP

STOP

I shoot up out of my bed.

I can’t breathe… I need some sort of relief.

I get up out of my bed, careful not to disturb Chris on the floor. I know I should wake someone up, but I don't want to bother anybody.

As I reach for the doorknob I feel arms wrap around my torso, holding my hands back from the door. I melt into Chris’s arms, slowly falling to the ground.

After a little while he picked me up, placing me gently in my bed. He climbed in next to me, and held me until we both fell asleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable

#madi makes things #madi writes things #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x reader #sh!reader #angst #hurt/comfort

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

So in your most recent ramble on Theories technically isn't Frank being atheist slightly concious of what's going on cannon since artwork of him being aware of other puppet parts was in the recent update? What if some neighbors really know nothing but others actually do know of a little bit of what's happening but Wally doesn't realize they do so he tries to keep face?

Though I'll admit with your idea of that not being the "Real" Barnaby in the Interview may explain why Wally went really quiet during the interview even when being directly asked things once Barnaby showed up

Kind like he was so focused on the "That's not Barnaby. Why do they Look like him? Who are They??" That the Interviewers questions got completely ignored as "Barnaby" answered the question instead until Wally snapped out of it.

Just thoughts on your thoughts of many thoughts- Thoughts!

sorry i Did Not See This!

for a moment i was very confused as to what you meant by "athiest" but i see - you meant "at least!" yes, i've been tentatively believing in Frank being a bit aware because of your stated reason, and also purely based on vibes and how he's been shown to be more, ah, cynical than the others. or... knowledge seeking? nosy but in a technical way. mild example is when he mused on how he's never seen a blue dog before in his bug audio w/ Barnaby.

and i do believe in the idea that everyone - or almost everyone knows somethings up, but they're not sure what / it's an easy feeling to ignore. like how i've talked about Howdy potentially knowing that he's selling props / inedible objects as food, but everyone can eat it anyway. so he's just like "fuck it yeah sure, i'll sell soap as mashed potatoes", yk? then of course in the Halloween update - which i know this ask was sent before it, apologies again - Sally knows there's somethin' the fuck up in the neighborhood at night. i wouldn't be surprised if everyone has a little Something they've noticed that bothers them deep down...

and Wally... honestly i'm starting to suspect that - again! If there's a time discrepancy between "official" audios and the secret ones or at least all audios vs his interactions with the whrp/qa/You - Wally in the official audios isn't quiiiite up to speed? like, he probably knows what he is and the like, but he's still figuring out everyone's places and the nature of his existence. like how in the Halloween "secret" audio 00, where he eats part of Barnaby's candy apple - it seemed like it took a great effort, like Wally was just trying it out. like a "i think i can do this... i'm trying..." it strikes me as a "new" thing for him there. he's not accustomed to it? idk... but whatever the case Wally certainly knows that he has to keep Secrets! can't tell the others about literally anything!

as for the interview - tbh i don't think Wally was quiet because he noticed that Barnaby was (potentially) just a person in a suit. several reasons! i have a feeling that Wally being Aware means that he understands, at least on some level, what a puppet is and the nature of it, so it wouldn't really disturb him? or maybe it would... apple pie and all... SO! another piece of reasoning! it's possible that Wally had no idea that that Barnaby "wasn't" Barnaby. After all, how could he tell?

personally, i think Wally was just quiet because, well, he's not much of a talker - at least not around Company it seems! in all of the audios where he's with other neighbors, he fades into the background and defers to them, only chiming in occasionally. and the Interview appears to be set in the early days of Welcome Home the tv show, so Wally would still be uh. for lack of a better word, fresh outta the box. if Barnaby starts talking, naturally Wally would sit back and let him lead. Wally takes a beat too long formulating a response and Barnaby barrels on - well what would Wally do? interrupt? that would be rude...

#ohhh this was a lengthy response for a shortish reply! #i will say it again - Apologies! #i would add more tags but my beloved cat is staring holes into the side of my head #pleading for me to join her for snuggles... not now letti im being unwell online... its Distracting... #oh now she's loafed with her back to me. still purring. ears turned back listening for me paying attention #'i know what youre doing' i say. she purrs harder #rambles from the bog #homebogging