#one day i will attempt to draw legs. today is not that day.

[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do. 

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me. 

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with. 

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #bruce banner #wanda maximoff

[secretwritingspot]

Thighs

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Hihihi!!! Welcome to my first post, lovelies!

Rating/Content Warnings: somewhere between PG-13 and R? Like there's definitely a L O T of sexual themes, but no actual doing of the do. Mostly just a lot of Sanji oggling the reader and trying so hard failing not to be a creep.

Summary: I love the idea of teasing Sanji in general because he's such a man whore (affectionate) but there's something especially funny to me about doing it completely on accident, so here's approx. 2k words of Sanji having a full on breakdown because reader wore a short skirt with long socks literally once.

Disclaimer(s): okay this is for all my fellow thick thighed bitches because I just KNOW, K N O W Sanji would go crazy for that shit. Do not ask me why. it came to me in a dream. it was revealed to me in visions. he told me himself. That being said, because of that and story reasons there are a few specific physical traits mentioned (thick thighs and being too short to reach a shelf) and the reader is wearing a skirt, so keep that in mind!

Sanji considers himself a man of tremendous patience.

He might not seem it with how often he finds himself oggling the women on the crew, flirting with any woman he sees, what have you- but really, all of it's tame in comparison to his thoughts. His desires. The warmth that floods his chest when he sees a particularly attractive woman walk by.

He's as chivalrous as possible with his crewmates, trying not to be too distracted by their beauty, flits of the eyes, flicks of the hair. He prides himself on his ability not to react. And then...well, then today happens. Then, he sees you - the most recent crewmember - in a tiny, swishy little skirt.

It makes sense, he supposes, for you to wear something so short. It's sweltering out.

Still, ever since he first saw you in the morning, he hasn't been able to get the sight of your plush thighs out of his head. Hence his early start on cooking dinner, attempting to clear his head the only way he knows how.

He's sweating a bit from the heat himself, but he tries to focus on the food and the cooking, not thinking about you. He just wants to get the food done and be finished with this day-long distraction. The sooner he finishes cooking the sooner they can have dinner and the sooner he can retire to his room, wrap his fist around his cock, finish himself off, go to sleep, and forget about all of this.

He reassures himself that it can't be too long before he's able to lock his door and unwind when there's a gentle, rhythmic knock at the open doorframe, alerting him of someone else's presence.

"Hey Sanj!"

You. Of course. As if his life weren't hard enough already.

"Whatcha making?"

You ask curiously, short skirt swishing with your movements as you walk in and hop up on one of the counters he isn't using, watching him with rapt attention. He looks up at you for a moment and smiles before looking back at his cooking, trying to avoid stolen glances at your legs.

"Just cooking up dinner. Nothing exciting."

It makes sense, he supposes. You were by far his closest friend on the crew, so of course you'd be the liaison for the rest of the crew (read: Luffy) to send to spy when they wanted to know what was for dinner.

Still, doesn't make you any less distracting.

"Disagree. Watching you cook is fascinating," you counter softly with a fond smile, thankfully oblivious to his staring.

Your words go straight to his ego, before moving down to his...nevermind. The point is, your admiration makes him happy. He's always been a sucker for compliments to his cooking. You're a good audience, too- quiet and curious and good company, mostly either doing your own thing (reading, mending old clothes, drawing - though you've never let him see your sketchbook, he's asked) or watching intently as he works.

Still, his mind is drifting elsewhere. He can't help but imagine how soft your thighs would be in his hands, how warm one would feel pressed against the skin of his cheek with your legs wrapped around his head-

Sanji freezes for a second at that thought and then quickly tries to focus back on the food cooking.

"You think so?" He asks with a calm smile, trying to keep his composure, "I'm sure I'm not too special to watch."

"You sell yourself short," you respond with a click of your tongue and a fond shake of the head. You really do enjoy watching him cook, eyes scanning across his hands while he works, admiring his skill and technique with soft eyes. "It's...relaxing. Watching you work, I mean."

Sanji chuckles nervously, looking down at his hands with a slight blush and pointedly avoiding your eyes.

"Oh please. I'm sure it's perfectly enjoyable to watch anyone cook."

You hum softly in consideration and there's a comfortable pause, the galley going silent again, save for the sounds of utensils scraping and the sizzling of oil in a pan.

It's no surprise to him that he's been so distracted all day, unfortunate though it is. Everyone knows he really, really likes women, it's common knowledge. But in particular, Sanji's always had a weakness for thighs. (Anything soft, honestly, he's always been one for soft.) But thighs in particular have always been a surefire way to raise his blood pressure (among other things).

He tries to avoid looking at you while he cooks, but he can't help himself at times. You really do have lovely thighs and he wants to feel them for himself, wants to know if you're truly as soft and warm as you look, wants to know how quickly they'd bruise in the shape of his fingers or his teeth. He really does try not to look, but it's taking its toll on him and he finally turns back to you in curiosity.

"Is that really comfortable?"

You cock your head at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what he's talking about, laughing softly at the question and looking down at the skirt on yourself with a shrug.

"I mean, it's like a bajillion degrees out. If I wore something else, I think I might've melted."

You hop off the counter gently, smooth and coordinated on your feet as always as you stand before doing a little twirl to show off the outfit to him.

"Plus, it's actually super practical, since it has the shorts built in."

He's used to you showing off to him like this any time an outfit you've picked out is unexpectedly practical - dresses with pockets, hidden weapon holsters, shockingly soft fabrics and the like - and he usually finds your excitement quite cute.

This time, though, is different. Your twirl makes the skirt flare up and he swears his heart explodes in his chest. There are built in shorts, but calling them that is more of a stretch than the average fighting move from your captain. They must be at least 3 or 4 inches shorter than the skirt itself, made of some sort of legging material. The action only flashes him a better view of your thighs and he knows it's not on purpose, but good god.

Sanji gulps a bit, his eyes caught on that wonderful sight you inadvertantly just showed him. He tries so hard to not stare, to be respectful, to focus on the food.

"Practical indeed!"

His voice cracks on the forced, over-enthusiastic response, begging himself just to be normal for one second, let the moment pass by naturally.

But he's never been good with self-control. And his mouth has always been much faster than his brain.

"You know, you really do look amazing in that, sweetheart. You should wear that style more often."

As soon as the words come out, he's kicking himself over them. He'd tried desperately just to look you up and down quickly and say you look amazing, a simple, averagely flirtatious comment that no one would look twice at. But he knows the main reason he likes how you're dressed so much, and his traitorous mind is caught between telling himself to get it together and begging you to let him feel you.

"Aww, thanks!" You chirp happily at the compliment, doing another cute little spin. It would be precious if it weren't making it so hard for him to think, but he thinks the soft blush his words put on your cheeks is worth showing his hand a bit-

"Maybe I should, I do like it."

-he might've doomed himself to never being able to focus again, though.

Sanji is trying so hard not to stare. He tries to look at anything else- the kitchen, the walls, the food, anything at all. It's like a scene from a cartoon with a heart-eyed schmuck trying to look anywhere but at a woman's cleavage. He takes a breath and tries his best to settle back into his usual, teasing demeanor.

"Yep, I really think you should. You make for a lovely view."

He succeeds, for the most part, you biting your lip with a soft smile and mumbling a flustered little "thank you" in response, and goes back to his cooking, mind still on you.

Still, it's a respite, and he manages to distract himself well enough by focusing on the food.

It's silent for another few, calm moments before he tastes the sauce he's making and finds it missing something, sighing softly. He calls to you without thinking, since you're already there, and always quite eager to help him in the kitchen any way you can when he'll let you.

"Could you fetch me the coriander, love?"

He doesn't think it through, he must've done it a million times before, but this time...

Of course you go to get it, angel that you are. It was never in doubt that you'd be willing to lend a helping hand, especially when he'd asked in that soft, quiet voice that seemed reserved for you and you only.

The problem is that you can't quite reach the shelves, hopping up on your tip-toes, the bottle less than a fraction of an inch from your fingertips. But the view it gives him, the angle- christ, he can see fully up your skirt, the fabric riding up in your attempt to reach for the jar and barely covering your ass.

"Oh god," Sanji mumbles to himself under his breath, now very distracted by the view. You look so cute. Your thighs look so good in that skirt, and the angle he has gives him a full view up it. He almost walks over and gets the bottle for you on instinct, used to grabbing things for you when you can't reach.

But...he doesn't.

It's complete sin, but he doesn't. He feels guilty about letting you struggle to reach the bottle of spice rather than just getting it down himself, but he can't resist the opportunity to oggle you in this position a little longer. So he doesn't say anything, do anything, ashamed of his thoughts and his own inaction. He knew he could be a touch desperate at times, but he promised himself that he would never be...he wasn't the type of man to do this. Christ, he can't believe he's actually doing this now.

Eventually, you hop to reach it, finally able to grab the container with a satisfied little 'ha!'

He only has a few seconds to stare at how good that little jump makes you look - gravity doing the work and making your thighs, your ass, your tits bounce for a moment when you land - before he has to school his reaction back to normal. Look professional. It only makes him feel worse how proudly you hand him the spice jar after turning around, completely unaware of the show you just gave him.

"...thank you, love."

You nod happily in response, walking back out from behind the galley so as not to get in his way, the act guilt-inducingly thoughtful.

"I'll tell them it'll be a few more minutes, yeah?" You ask, flashing him that dazzling smile and he can't do much else but nod as you leave the room to tell the rest of the crew the ETA on dinner, skirt swishing around your hips. He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the counter, and groans.

This is gonna be a long fucking night.

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #one piece x y/n

[pandoraslxna]

Alright but what if your an artist of the clan! But you have like a secret stash of naughty drawings and one of the guys (can be anyone honestly) found it and was either like these are good or they’re like ohh so would you be down to try this position? AHHH ITS 5AM AND I NEED TO SEE THIS IDEA OUT

Work of art

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, thigh riding, praise kink, p in v, creampie

Notes: you guys are literally so creative omg thanks for this request I loved that idea!! Also I hope it’s fine that I’ve picked Neteyam for this? ☺️

The omatikaya had many forms of art. Your clan had good singers, skillful weavers and wonderful dancers. And you were an artist, a painter. One of the rarest forms of art that the omatikaya practiced. The human scientists had introduced you to something they called pen and paper a few years ago and you couldn’t stop drawing ever since. Your favorite thing to draw were people, may it be humans or Na‘vi. You practiced drawing the human anatomy as often as possible, occasionally you even stole some of Norms biology books to do so.

But your favorite art reference when it came to drawing your own people, was Neteyam. The olo’eyktan’s oldest son and one of your closest friends. And the greatest work of art you knew. You had this little, secret crush on him, but in order not to put your friendship at risk, you never acted upon it. All you had were your little daydreams and fantasies and the drawings you made of him– they were obviously only meant to help you get better at anatomy and nothing else!

Neteyam often spent time with you when you were drawing. Most of the time, he was just laying beside you, taking a quick nap between his chores and duties. Sometimes he would just silently watch you, mesmerized by your talent. On other days, you could barely focus on drawing because the both of you were just too lost in a deep conversation about whatever topic you landed on today.

Today was no different.

"Tey, could you hand me another piece of paper please?" Not even glancing up from your current drawing, you point to the shoulder bag that was laying against a tree.

"Sure", Neteyam smiles, placing your legs, that were lazily swung over his own, to the ground before he raises to his feet and walks over to where you had pointed. Your bag was, as usual, full of non-essential stuff that made it hard to find literally anything in it. Neteyam rolls his eyes as he skips through several books, that you had once again only "borrowed" from the humans (without them knowing, of course), a few colored pencils and a handful of notebooks in various sizes. He glances over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the paper size that you would probably need and grabs the first notebook that was similar in size. It had a small heart craved into the front of its leather cover and given that he had never seen this one before, he only guessed that it must be a new one.

Knowing that most most of your notebooks were already full, he flips it open and searches for a blank page. Of course this one was filled to the brim with drawings, but these were… different kind of drawings, compared to the ones you usually made. Neteyam raises a brow as he examines them carefully, one in particular, before he turns back to you.

"Thats an… odd position. Did you learn that from the humans?" Neteyam flips the notebook for you to see and immediately, all color drains from your face.

The drawing he was showing you was one of your favorites and it was more than just obvious, that what you drew on those pages was supposed to be you and him….

"N-Neteyam!", you squeak and immediately stumble to your feet, "You weren’t supposed to see that, oh great mother—" You attempt to pry the notebook from his hands, but Neteyam only chuckles. He’s holding it over his head, too far for you to reach even as you stand on your very tip toes.

"It’s uhm, I uh– I just used it for anatomy practice, you know, it’s easier if you have a reference and you, uhm, you just happen to be there all the time so it was easier for me to draw you and, and—"

Neteyam grins as you struggle to explain yourself, all flustered and face bright red while he still holds the drawing out of your reach. He secretly enjoys the feeling of your soft hands clawing to his arms and how you unintentionally press yourself against him, because you try with all your might to get that damn book back.

"So you’re not up to try it?", he tilts his head, catching you off guard and you freeze.

"E-Excuse me?" You blink at him, internally questioning if you had heard him right. Finally, he lowers his arm, but all intentions to get your notebook back had left your mind completely.

"I said…", Neteyam bends forward, until his face is just inches from yours, "do you want to try that with me?"

You swallow thickly, your eyes narrowing as if trying to read him, to see if he was just joking. There was a smile spreading on his lips, almost innocently, as if he didn’t just suggest something so filthy that it made your belly tingle.

"I figured it could help you with your art, you know, if you didn’t have to use your imagination anymore", he explains nonchalant. You had to swallow down the next stupid thing that crossed your mind, ready to be spoken out, which was something along the lines of 'please fuck my brains out right now.' But instead, all that really came out was some sort of whimper, an almost pathetic and painfully embarrassing sound that even you weren’t sure how to describe.

Instead of answering him, you just sort of stood there. Staring up at him with wide eyes. Hands clenching into weak fists on your sides, because you really wanted to move them, touch him, respond in any way that didn’t embarrass you further because yes, you absolutely wanted to do that— but you just didn't have the brain capacity to tell him. Neteyam must have caught on on that, because you saw the little curl of a smirk pull at the corner of his lip and then he chuckled, "You’re so adorable."

For a moment, you think that he was actually just joking. That he had successfully managed to make a fool out of you, but then his hand finds the back of your head and he pulls you into a kiss. His tongue shot out immediately, loving the way you opened up for him and you let your eyes flutter closed.

"Okay, let’s see…", Neteyam murmurs once he breaks the kiss and then he sets the book down for both of you to see. For a moment, he pretends to study your drawing, pretends to think about what the first step to lead to this might be as if it wasn’t so obvious already and it makes you squirm in embarrassment. "I think we need to get you all nice and wet first", his voice is low and hot in your ear. You can’t help the very audible gulp that comes out of you when your eyes met his again, dark with want and mischief, almost as if he'd been planning to do this.

Neteyam leans over to dispense wet kisses up your exposed shoulder, until he reaches your throat. He covers your skin in dark, purple marks as he sucks and kisses and bites down softly, making you whimper. His hands slowly travel south, getting hold of your delicate wrists on his way and then he guides them to your loincloth. "Undress yourself for me", Neteyam tells you and your quick to obey, untying the piece of clothing and discarding it to somewhere on the ground. "Good girl", he praises and then wedges one of his thick thighs right in between yours, his hands now holding your hips.

His grip on you was firm, solidly guiding. You could feel the strength of his hands against your flesh, not really rough, but not exactly gentle either. He positioned you to settle on his thigh before he rocks your hips back and forth. You gasp as your core makes contact with his warm skin, the muscles of thigh creating enough friction against your clit to make you moan.

You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at him through lidded eyes. You can feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants.

Neteyam experiments with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to make you feel good and it doesn’t take very long to find out what works best for you. Your hips are rocking against his thigh, and he breaks the kiss he had just captured you in, with a muted gasp and a thin, glistening strand of saliva that connects your lips.

You were growing wetter by the second, so much so that a wet patch was beginning to form on his skin.

"You're dripping all over my thigh,” Neteyam notes amused and you shamefully try to hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Every rock of your hips was bringing you a jolt of pleasure. It felt so euphoric that you find yourself never wanting it to end. Everything‘s being stimulated with each buck of your hips and small shivers shot up your spine every time you brush your clit against his muscles.

"Hmm, I think you’re wet enough now", Neteyam hums softly as he brings your hips to an abrupt halt, causing a whine to erupt from you. He takes another glance to the piece of paper laying right next to you both, as if he was reading an instruction. Then he swiftly turns you around so your back is flush with his chest, slightly arched and with your ass pressing into his crotch. You could feel his hard erection already pressing against your bottom and it made you wonder if you were really already so far gone, that you hadn’t even realized that he had pulled his own loincloth off too.

One of his hands snakes up your front and closes itself briefly around your throat, mirroring the position of your drawing. "This what you had in mind, pretty girl?", he whispers against the shell of your ear, right before he pushes the thick head of his cock between your folds. His free hand sets on your hip, holding you in place when his tip finally catches on your entrance and he pushes himself inside. "Fuck, yes", you breathe out and nod, earning a chuckle from him. You can feel the muscles in his arms tense, groaning when his pelvis was flush with your soft bottom and he was fully settled inside the tight heat of your cunt. You let out a long, uninterrupted moan at the full feeling of how deep he was.

Your hands reach back to steady yourself on his hips, but he’s quick to snatch them. He bends your arms to let them rest in the arch of your back, holding them together with his big hand. Now it was truly like the most detailed copy of the drawing that you made. The position you were in, it was straight out of your imagination, out of every wet dream that you ever had about this moment and then bought to paper by you, not long ago.

Neteyams pace is slow at first. Somewhat in a teasing way, but mostly to let you adjust to him. You were tight, your walls were heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increased his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was music to his ears.

"Just as tight as I imagined. Oh, great mother– I won’t last if you keep squeezing me like that." Neteyam was moving even faster now and you were moaning, hot and loud, with your head rolled back in the crook of his neck.

It was the perfect position for him to let his tongue dart out and lick at the corner of your lips, to which you quickly turned your head and let him capture your mouth in yet another heated kiss.

He pounded into you then, using your arms as leverage as he thrusts his hips up and into you, the head of his cock rapidly hitting your g-spot in the process. Your jaw dropped and your fists clenched, but oh, that wasn't all that was clenching. Your breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could probably even process it.

"Tey", you whined the sweet nickname that was reserved for you and only you to use, "Tey, I‘m— I‘m gonna cum!"

"Be a good girl and squeeze my cock when you do, yeah? I want to– fuck, I want to feel you cum around me", he groans, sweating from his own exertion as he pushed right into your sweet spot. And who were you to deny him? You did as you were told, flexing your lower abdomen to squeeze the cock that was roughly thrusting in and out of your fluttering walls.

Neteyams head fell back at the sweet, savory feeling of your tightness, so wet that there was hardly any resistance at all as you finally reach your high. "That’s it, you look so pretty when you cum. Such a good girl for me", he breathes as you choke on a moan.

You keep flexing your inner walls as best as you can, until you feel him tremble with the change. Neteyam moans and it’s the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard and then his movements become jerky and you know he’s about to come. You try your best to keep your eyes open, turning your head slightly to not miss the look on his face when he does. His mouth is slightly agape, eyes half lidded as they land on yours and with one last thrust he stills inside you. His cum is hot and sticky and you can feel it fill you.

Neteyams hands finally leave your arms and they’re aching from the weird position they were in the whole time, but you’re quick to ignore the pain when his lips land on yours again. Your familiar with his kisses by now, relishing in the way he still kisses you so hot and open mouthed and wet, even after he just came.

Your panting heavily when you break the kiss to breathe and immediately, Neteyam lowers his head to continue with his very own work of art, that he had left on your throat earlier. Small love bites and hickeys were already turning purple on your pretty blue skin, making you especially sensitive there and a small gasp escapes your lips.

"Was that the reference you needed, my sweet girl?" He asks against your throat before placing another kiss there.

"Hmh yes", you hum, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let out a little chuckle.

"Good. Now show me what else you got in that little notebook. I’ve got plenty of time today."

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #neteyam sully #awow #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x female reader smut

[hxltic]

imagine having an attitude w miguel o’hara

Even though he’s quick to anger, and very easily irritated, he’s never had that problem with you. You were his treatment in a way. You always dealt with people in a more kind manner, so he just lets you speak until you’ve given him permission, but today it seems as though the roles have reversed.

It’s even more angering with the fact that he just can’t seem to take you seriously, your cheeks bursting red with anger and fists unconsciously clenching, but he just leans against the wall, staring at you. Through you, almost. To be fair, whatever you were mad at you would probably get over later. But that wasn’t the point. You were angry and pissed off.

And you also hadn’t seen him in a relative amount of time; Spiderman work wasn’t easy. This was something you’d come to accept when you got with him, and you don’t mind being alone, but somehow it’s brought itself to matter in this very moment.

So how did you end up bent over as he plowed into you from behind? His brain pieced together that you just needed some dick. Whenever you two were intimate in any way, the next day he’d see you extra happy, beaming even, and the memories would flash in your head every now and then.

Of course, when he kissed you the first time, you pushed him off and said he was deflecting.

He doesn’t really run away from his problems, but this one could wait.

“You’re givin’ me the silent treatment, you can’t still be mad at me amor?”

Truth be told, you were quiet because you couldn’t speak. Your neck was upright, your throat dragging back and forth on the bed sheets, and your arms were forced back into his large, calloused hands. Your eyes fall closed when you grunt in response.

If he was being honest, this wasn’t even his favorite part. It was watching the scowl on your face dissipate into ecstasy and the irritated deep sighs transform into moans each time you came.

He rectifies his position by adjusting his foot placement and dropping his tight hold to your wrists, effectively finding a deeper way into you. It was messy and rough, the stickiness around where the two of you meet and the reddening skin pure evidence. Miguel bent his body over yours so your back was flush with his carved chest.

A muffled sound fell into the bed with every snap of his hips. His hair slightly stuck to his face when he forced his mouth into your right shoulder, digging his sharp canines past your skin. Not enough to draw blood, but it hurt and left a mark nonetheless. He sucked the skin and kissed it as if soothing. The senses were too much combined with your low pain tolerance, compelling tears to swell in buds.

He groans, “Not so upset now are you? If it was dick you wanted, you could’ve just said so.” He adds, “fuck, eres una belleza.”

You couldn’t even snap back. With this he flipped you over and spread your legs wide. Before you had the time to look down, his pink tongue was sliding through your folds eagerly.

“Miguel wait-“ you attempt breathlessly, but it was no good. He ate like he’s never eaten before: pushing his face between your thighs and wrapping the plush of them over his shoulders to press both palms on your abdomen. He shook his head sloppily, continuing regardless of your pleas.

The man wasn’t satisfied until the slick of you was dripping down his chin and coating his nose. Your back arched off the bed as you came, allowing those tears to fall in streams to your ears. Of course, he continued to slurp and suck and moan as you twist your hips in an escape to shake him off, but those muscles weren’t just for show. He only moved with you and gripped harder, almost taunting you, or giving you permission to try and escape from him. You couldn’t.

It wasn’t until you were pleading for him that he considered giving you mercy.

“MiguelMiguelMiguel- fuck! c-come off please,” you’d beg, accompanied by a futile effort to push his arms away. Like he was shaking his head no, he’d shake into you.

“mmphh.”

©️hxltic

i don’t speak spanish spare me

#miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #spider man #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut

[luveline]

hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 

She grins. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You all done?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not hungry anymore?” 

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 

“Thanks, beautiful.” 

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 

“I’m tired.” 

“It’s not bed time.” 

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 

“That sound fun or what?” 

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 

“I didn’t say one!” 

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 

“Oh, no,” Avery says. 

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 

“Gonna get Beth changed.” 

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 

“Sorry,” she laughs. 

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 

You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 

“Feels too good to be true.” 

“My turn tonight,” he says. 

“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say. 

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[rileyslibrary]

Where’s my pen, Lt.?

Summary: You’re PMSing, and Ghost comes to the rescue.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,110

Notes:

Angst and fluff

Dedicated to my ✨ anon

Want more?

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How can you be angry, sad, and tired all at the same time? It’s a never-ending cycle. Every month right before your period, you feel like shit. What did your species do to deserve such a cruel and recurring punishment? What a selfish b*tch that Eve was. So much for taking one for the team.

You’re standing in front of a table with a shattered drone resting on its mahogany top. Fortunately, with the right tools, carbon fibre is easy to repair. Unfortunately, this army base doesn’t have the necessary equipment and personnel for the job. It can be a complex task if you don’t have the resources, especially if you lack the energy and strength to do it just by yourself.

Ghost is sitting in the corner of the room, cleaning his handgun. He looks calm—sirene—as if he didn’t just stare death straight in the eyes a few hours ago. How does he do that?

On the contrary, your movements are sluggish, you have terrible back pain, and you lack the motivation to complete even the most basic tasks. But you have to fix that drone for its next mission.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the drone’s camera lenses. You’re unrecognisable. Your hair is acting up again, with unruly strands forming a halo at the crown of your head. Not only that, but your reflection reveals another issue. You take a closer look at your face. Fuck; another pimple. It decided to settle on your chin this time. Great—just great.

“Everything alright?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Y-yes, ready to start the process.” You answer with false confidence. Can he tell you’re faking it? Probably.

He says nothing but keeps staring at you with an unreadable expression, his silence giving an answer in itself. After what seemed like an eternity, he stands up and walks towards the door, exiting the room and leaving you alone.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, exhaling in relief. Come on, get a hold of yourself. Focus.

You gather your hair up and fix it with whatever you have available in front of you. Now is not the time to be making stylistic decisions. You’re not here to compete in a pageant, anyway. What you need to do is fix that damn thing and fast.

You roll up your sleeves, grab your notepad, and open it on a new page. You pick up your p-

Where’s your pen?

You begin searching the table for your missing item, picking up drone components and putting them back in an unruly manner.

Maybe it rolled off the table!

You kneel on the floor, furiously searching for your pen as if you’d lost your most treasured asset. Where did it go? It can’t just grow legs and walk away! It must be here, somewhere.

You stumble as you rise to your feet, bumping your head on the table’s corner. Dizzy and frustrated, you stay on all fours, attempting to calm yourself with every ounce of dignity you have left.

Until you ultimately give up. So much for the confidence boost you tried to give yourself a few moments ago. You roll around and sit on the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest and burying your face in them as you let out a long, deep sigh.

“Is that part of the repair process, soldier?” Ghost asks as he re-enters the room, “do you grieve the drone first before you glue it back together?”

Today, of all days, he decided to act like an asshole.

“I misplaced my pen, Lieutenant,” you reply, still seated on the floor.

“You’re crying because you misplaced your pen.” He repeats in a deep, monotonous voice.

“I’m not cr- forget it.” You sigh defeated.

You can’t tell him what’s going on inside you. He’ll never understand. Ghost could take a bullet to the shoulder and still manage to climb a mountain while you’re whining about a minor inconvenience.

“Get up.” He commands, and you follow his orders. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and attempt to stand as straight as possible.

He stares at you with those interrogative eyes of his and slides something from across the table. You look down at the purple-wrapped rectangle in front of you.

A chocolate bar.

“I know what’s up,” he says, shrugging as he looks at the chocolate, “you tend to be like that a few days before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I keep a log,” he explains. “I might be confident enough setting up an ambush in the middle of the desert, but I don’t push my luck with you.”

You crack a smile and accept the chocolate. “Thank you, Ghost,” you mutter, eyeing the piece of candy. He keeps a log, huh? What a guy.

“About that pen you were looking for,” he continues, “it’s in that patty of yours,” he explains and points at you.

In the what of yours??? You stand perplexed by his last statement until he gestures toward the back of his head. You mimic his actions and chuckle in embarrassment as you realise what he’s referring to. But of course! You used the pen to secure your hair. You exhale in relief and pick the pen off to set it on the notepad.

“You’re a lifesaver, Simon.” You reply.

“Keep your gratitude for the battlefield, soldier,” he adds dismissively. He’s obviously flattered, but he’ll never confess it. “Now tell me, how’s your back doing?” He asks, “still in pain?”

You nod. “Hurts like a motherfucker, sir.”

“Let me see,” he says, and you lift your hair up to expose the back of your neck. He moves in closer to get a better look, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His fingers are gentle as he works his way down your neck, kneading the soreness and pain away with skill. You wince as you feel his touch, but the pain is nothing compared to what it was before he began to work his magic.

“Oh, and, uh, Lieutenant?” You whisper softly, almost inaudibly, as you feel the tension leaving your body.

“Hm?” He murmurs, his strong hands now carefully massaging your shoulders.

“It’s called a bun,” you say with a smirk, “not a patty.”

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#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #✨ anon #Simon riley #cod ghost #cod mw2

[uvuyai]

© uvuyai 2024

ძᥲᥡ 2 ~ һᥙmіᥣіᥲ𝗍і᥆ᥒ + 𝗍ᥡіᥒg ᥙ⍴ [EVENT]

Yandere! Blade x FEM! Reader

–genre. Smut, nsfw

–tw. Blood, skin carving, humiliation, skin writing, non-con, creampie, sadist!blade, spanking, porn with plot(maybe), size difference, stomach bulge, choking, overstimulation, possessive behaviors, blade is called ren, mentions of the hard R in the beginning, neglect, degradation, reader is blades reincarnated lover, prone bone, MINORS DNI, non consensual touching, nipple play, SW and Kafka is helping blade, headlocking, dub-con, blood,

–synopsis. You've been kidnapped by the swordsman of the Stellaron Hunters and brought to their headquarters. It's Valentine's Day and he planned something special.

Mari/yai's message – just know i was very uncomfortable with writing this. I've been drawing lately so it's been a while.

You were tied up in the basement of the Stellaron Hunters headquarters. You were just walking down the streets of luofu till you were grabbed into an alleyway and a cloth covering your mouth and then you inhaled chloroform, passing out into the person's(or thing) arm. When your captor brought you back to where they lived, they introduced themselves as Blade but he told you to call him ren.

Blade. As in the wanted criminal and part of the Stellaron Hunters?

After a while he got tired of your useless attempts at escaping (mostly snitched on by Kafka or Silverwolf by telling blade you escaped.), and then forcefully forced himself onto you. After that he left you.

He would come back occasionally if Kafka told him so if he didn't want you to die. He would bring you clothes and food to keep you alive and helped you take care of your hygiene. You didn't eat in front of him and just pretend to be asleep most of the time in the corner of the mattress.

You tried talking to him but couldn't since your stuttering held you back and you couldn't make eye contact with him since he fiery red eyes would stare into your soul, stunning it immediately.

He brought you stuff like a note book to draw or use it as a diary. Since you barely could get your words out, you wrote ‘Why did you kidnap me?’ on a page. He only muttered the word “Lover” and left it at that.

Well today was Valentine's day as you'd know by the calendar beside your bed. You still didn't love him or let yourself develop Stockholm Syndrome. If you could tell, he hated it.

You behaved well for the days, months, or even years he captured you. He let you out of your ropes and lets you walk around the basement. Various furniture was added like a desk that faced a window(that was very hard to break), a bed set, and a built in shower.

Silver Wolf gave the glory to Blade that he can have one of her old games but he decided to give it to you so you wouldn't be as bored when he went.

Kafka came down and called out for you. You raised your head from your pillow and looked at her with sleepy doe eyes. “C'mon dearie, Blade will be home soon and he has something planned for you.” she grabbed your forearm and dragged you to the bathroom and ran you a bath as if you were her child. She helped you shave your legs(and everywhere else including pubic) and did your hair into something simple. She gave you pink Valentine's Day themed lingerie undergarments to put underneath the white lace night gown.

You wished you knew why Blade suggested Kafka to give you this. The clothes fit you nicely. Your mind was all over the place as you thought about how Blade got the correct measurements of your bra and panties.

Kafka led you out of the bathroom and back to your bed and went back up stairs and came back down with a low black gift box. She skied the top off the box to reveal red ribbons. The box was branded so it must've been from a sex store or somewhere that was expensive. You thought it was for your hair otherwise it's weird to come in a box like that.

Kafka placed her hands behind her back and closed her eyes and let out a pitiful sigh. “I'm sorry, dear.” Before you could turn around something rough and hard hit the back of your head. It put you to sleep on impact.

She dragged your body to your bed and threw you on your bed, grabbing the ribbon and tied it tightly around your legs and wrist. The extras went around your waist and torso. You were truly a beautiful doll. She wrapped soft cloth around your mouth and eyes. Just breathe through

She left the room and as if on cue, Blade stepped through the door. In his deep voice, he spoke. “Did you do what I asked?” Kafka nodded her head and gave off her signature smile. “I did but I had to neutralize her because she was struggling too much for my comfort.” she was obviously lying. He could obviously tell too.

He stepped his way to the basement where you were. He heard distant whimpering and sobs which were coming from you. He reached you and noticed your squirming. Your breath hitched as you heard boots stepping your way. The ribbons were hurting way too much to even ignore for a bit.

“Hey waterlily, It's really disappointing how you didn't behave for her.” he breathed. “You should be punished for that. I see she did most of the work.” you heard something slam on the nightstand next to your bed.

He hooked his finger underneath the blindfold to reveal your doe stricken eyes.

His lips lifted into a smirk while he trailed his bandaged fingers from your face to your collarbone. He noticed your squirming got more vapid. You shook your head as you didn't want him to continue.

His hand ripped the strap that was holding the gown, revealing your covered breast. Your face felt as if it was burning from embarrassment. He pushed you onto your back and got on top of you. Your muffled protests became unheard as he grabbed scissors and cut the straps from your bra, removing it, and revealing your tits.

“You look like a slut... Begging for someone's attention.” he laughed. “That someone's attention you want is me.” he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a knife and a permanent marker.

He slid the knife down your torso, the force was enough for it to draw blood. He leaned down and lapped at the blood while maintaining eye contact with you. Tears ran down your face and dried ones were replaced.

He fully discarded your dress and panties and threw them somewhere on the bed or ground. He used his gloved hand to finger you. Your slick immediately gathering on his hand. “Has all this fear got to you? I would've mistaken you for being a masochist, y'know.”

He unbuckled his pants and slid down his boxers that revealed his large, thick throbbing dick. It was flushed red at the tip and a white bead of precum was drooling from the slit. He thrusted two fingers into your cunt. He wanted to prep you since it's been a while since he had done anything with you. The stimulation was overwhelming. You desperately tried to kick him away but he grabbed your waist and replaced his finger with his dick rubbing against your pussy. Your juices covered the downside of his dick.

He leaned back to position his dick between your pussy lips. He thrusted up into your pussy, hitting your spongy spot on impact. A little blood covered his dick as well. A bulge would pop up with each thrust of his hips. Your scream was muffled and you leaned your head back on the pillow. You were biting at the cloth that was covering your mouth. It was covered in your saliva as well.

Blade hooked a finger underneath the cloth and pulled it down. Your breathing was harsh in a way that if it was cold, air would come from your mouth. As his thrusts started to pick up and your juices webbed his whole dick, he picked the knife back up and started to engrave a letter below your tits. The letter was his initial, the letter ‘B’. The icy hot pain was all over your body(it wasn't but it felt like it but mainly between your thighs), Blade licked the blood up, enjoying the metallic iron taste from it. His dick landed painful hits to your cervix, making you grimace at the feeling.

During that, yelps, whines, and moans were heard through the basement. If you were loud enough, Kafka and Silver Wolf would hear.

His thrust got more erratic. His thrusts were sure that by the time he finished your pussy would be gapping open and molded into the shape of his cock. You tried to cover your moans by turning your head to the side and trying to muffle them as much as possible. Blade was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks together as he got up in your face while looking at your unfocused eyes filled with tears. He trailed his eyes down back to where he drew the letter below your tits.

He slowly itched a small cross(which was a plus sign,) and after a while, he carved your first name initials after. It looked like those cheesy trends where it shows what initials are meant to be for example; B + Y. He did all of this while keeping his thrusts while you squirted your juices onto his lower abdomen and cock. He grabbed the permanent marker and drew a small heart around the heart.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and squished you against his chest. He rocked his hips back and forth and wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you steady. “You are such a slut. Nothing but my cum dump.” The cold permanent marker touched your skin, sending shivers down your spine and to your core. He wrote a few words like “CUMDUMP”, ”SLUT”, and “Blades/ren's property” on your back. He placed a few humiliating words on your collarbone so anyone could see it and also remind him what you are to him.

You pussy clenched around his dick, signaling your. “You wanna cum, yeah? Then cum. Cum for me.” he said between grunts. Your string of moans and mewls of being overstimulated, he released his cum inside you. Your stomach was slightly bloated and thick, sticky cum leaked out of your cunt and onto the bedsheets(it had little bubbles in them and stuck together like a spider web).

Blade was quick to flip you onto your stomach with your ass in the air. He grabbed the knife and released your wrist from the ropes binding them together. Your wrists were finally able to breathe. His rough hands grab at your wrist, pulling them to make you arch your back further.

He angled his cock back at your entrance, pushing his hips forward and his cum and your juices acting together as a secondary lube. The movement of his hips grew faster as time passed.

He leaned down to where his chest was touching your back. He resumed his torcher and thrust into you so hard he could break into your cervix and split you apart. His hand snaked up to your neck, squeezing it slightly so it wasn't hard enough to stop your breath. He used it to angle your head so he could kiss you. You moaned into his mouth and drooled all over his tongue.

His thrust started to get sloppy and he felt your breath get harsher from you breathing through your mouth. He wrapped both of his thick bulging arms around your neck, placing you in a loose headlock. A hand slipped down and tugged at your nipple. You released the kiss as you tried to get your breath back by sticking your tongue out. He placed a loud smack on your ass which made you come on his dick, stunning you.

He came inside you for the second time. You don't know how long he'll be doing this for as you feel his dick hardened inside you.

;(

#𓆩ri.𓆪 #✉️.txt #[ ♪o(〃＾▽＾〃)o♪ ] #✎ suggestive 𓆪 #𓆩!smutty.𓆪 #✎ yandere #𓆩ri.txt📝𓆪 #yandere x reader #yandere smut #blade x reader #blade smut #blade x reader smut #honkai blade x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #✎ characters from other clubs #[ .nsfw ]

[astraystayyh]

when you're feeling sad, changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up!! fluff and comfort.

this was so fun to write, binnie is so iconic i wanna be his friend so bad. hope you'll enjoy <3 this won't make sense if u don't have some binnie references tho

"Baby, I'm home!" Changbin's voice echoes loudly through your apartment as soon as he opens the door. You bury your face in your pillow, turning around in your bed so he'd think you were asleep.

It's not that you didn't want your boyfriend to see you. But the day has been overwhelming, small mishaps piling up on you. And as trivial as it sounds, your last straw was not finding your favorite cereal in the cupboard.

You couldn't possibly tell him that you broke down crying for cereals.

Changbin comes into your room, tiptoeing to your side of the bed when he notices your seemingly sleeping figure. He stares at you fondly for a while, before leaning down to kiss your cheek. He frowns to himself, before repeating the action once, then twice.

So he wasn't dreaming- your skin is wet. He skims a finger tentatively down your cheek, and sure enough, he can feel the tears drying slowly on it.

"Baby," he calls out gently, and when you don't respond, he says it again, his tone a bit more urgent. "Baby!"

You open one eye to look at him, "what?"

"Were you crying?"

"No." your response is curt and Changbin stares at you pointedly. You huff, because he can read you like an open book. "Yes."

That's all it takes for him to slide into the bed next to you, placing his back against the headboard. He then easily manages to pull you over his lap- he's strong, and you are too tired to resist him.

"What's wrong?" he asks and you look up to the ceiling, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

"Nothing."

"Okay," he simply responds, grabbing strands of your hair in his hands. You watch silently as he braids them, or atleast attempt to, eyebrows furrowed in the utmost concentration.

"What are you doing?"

"Welcome to Changbin Salon," he grins, his voice suddenly high-pitched. You can't help the giggle that leaves your mouth at the absurdity of his words.

"Changbin Salon, you say? What other services do you offer?" you tease and he drops your hair, holding your hands instead.

"We can bring you food."

"Like what?" you smile a bit and he smirks mischievously at you.

"Chili chili crab crab."

"Not again," you whine, hiding your face in his broad chest. It took you three weeks to convince Changbin to not sing it anymore. And two additional weeks to get that silly song out of your mind.

"Say the truth. You just want an excuse to lay on my chest," he coos, hitting your back with his fists like a kitten.

"Binnie, you are insufferable," you laugh loudly, and his eyes soften at you. His teasing smile morphs into a genuine one, and you know that he's being this way just to cheer you up.

"Why were you crying?" he asks again, drawing soothing circles across your palm.

"Today was stressful, nothing seemed to work my way. And then, I got home and I was craving cereals. And there were no more cereals, so I started crying."

"So you were planning on sleeping hungry?! As if Seo Changbin isn't your boyfriend?!"

He's fully outraged as he picks you up, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, his warm hands holding your thighs with ease.

"But now we can eat together," you grin, bopping your nose with his and he nods, "what's my pretty baby craving?"

"You know, I think I really want to have that chili crab."

"Let's order it then," he smiles at you as he walks to the living room, "Should I do it singing?"

"Please," you giggle and he places a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Anything you want."

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz changbin #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #skz hurt/comfort #skz imagines #skz soft thoughts

[ravenelyx]

Hello! Do you take requests? If so I have oke for you :)

It’s similar to the recent one about Sebastian hugging the reader. Could it be with Omi this time?

I love your writings, btw.

I absolutely can !!! And thank you so much ♡♡

Let me in. - Ominis Gaunt

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Ominis is touch-starved, Ominis is insecure, neck kissing, fuck the Gaunt family all my homies hate the Gaunt family, we all know Omi's past, cuddling and snuggling, House is not specified, (implied) established relationship

Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never learned how to love. But he has you, and you're willing to teach him.

A/N: I hope you like this!! I followed a different tangent than Sebastian's.

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic here on ao3 as well

Sebastian's version

He wishes love were easy.

But nothing had ever been easy in Ominis Gaunt's life.

When he opened his heart to her, he opened something deep. A Pandora box of sorrow and grief and everything he'd buried so deep he'd forgotten about it.

Unfortunately, his body never forgets. It shows when she takes his hand. It unleashes when she brushes his hair. That gnawing, scorching flame burning where her touch remains.

She asks him how he's doing, he doesn't answer, words trapped behind his teeth like in a prison of jelly and guilt. He thinks she doesn't really want to be bothered by his problems.

She takes his hand while walking, he moves it away, clutching it to his chest in an attempt to build back that armor she threatens to break every time.

"Ominis," she speaks quietly in the night, when he keeps her always at an arm's distance. "Please, come here."

He wants to cry.

"I don't know how."

The smell of her hair lingers on the pillow when she leaves, and he quietly brings it to him, burying his face in the softness of her girly perfume. Even then, he feels too much freedom; taking up a space that isn't his own. He turns his back to it.

She seems tired today.

"Ominis." Her voice is weary, sad. She's near the fireplace, brooding. He feels like he's done something wrong.

"What is it?"

He balks before approaching her, his voice coming out in a sycophantic squeak that makes his blood run cold. He is afraid: afraid she'll find him some day. That she'll offer her hand and he'll take it with no qualms, allowing her to pull him up, away from those doubts cramming his mind when she gets too close.

"Why do you never let me in?"

He's drowning.

Why? Why? The answer is immediate, pulled right from his brain by that tight awareness that has always been more of a curse than a blessing. Because Ominis Gaunt feels that he is phrogging in other people's existence until they get tired and throw him into the nearest garbage. Because he has never found a place where he could sit down, wind his legs and feel at peace. Because if one day someone finds him with his defenses down, when he hits the bottom of the bin headfirst, he will never forgive himself.

"I don't know how." His inveterate answer comes, drawing a sigh from her. She always drops the subject after, and he feels safe.

This time, she breaches the armor again, and he has got no time to glue it back.

"Come here."

His hands tremble when he follows, sitting down next to her. She opens her palm to him and he feels it on his leg.

"Take it."

Her fingers feel soft to the touch, slipping between his as if filling up a space in his heart he had missed, pushing back his doubts and making a home for itself. He holds her hand and runs his thumb on her knuckles.

"What does this mean?" He asks feebly.

"That you can do much more."

He feels the corner of his lips push down in a grimace. "I don't know h—"

"I'll show you."

Her movements are languid and elegant like a snake, and he feels like she might strangle him and cut his breath and leave him for dead. But he wants to keep holding her hand.

"What do I do?"

"Come here."

This time, he listens.

She lets him move first, wrap his arms around her, as if testing her shape. He runs his hands over her delicate ribs, then down to the soft curve of her waist, then around her; feels the weight in his arms, like she could crush him at any moment. But she doesn't.

She lets him pull her on him, giving him her body. His hands are shaking and he feels inadequate to hold her; to keep her safe and not let her fall.

"Just do what feels right," she whispers.

None of this feels right. But it feels comfortable, and it feels different, and it feels like his heart is slowing down and his weight is meeting the ground and pushing against it like he will never need to get up anymore.

And there are her lips. He feels them with his fingertips; the curve at the top, the soft flesh, the sticky texture of her lipstick. He brings his trembling mouth to hers for the first time and pulls away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry…" he almost cries again.

"Do it again."

He swallows and pushes his lips against hers. He doesn't have the courage to move and breathes against her mouth.

She giggles and his heart breaks, because of course he was doing it wrong. "I'm sorr—"

Her mouth moves against his, takes his bottom lip in a quick suckle and then frees it again. He holds his breath until he can't stay still anymore.

"How does that feel?" she asks.

"More…"

Something inside him cracks open at her taste, pushes and pulls and crushes him, and he holds on to her. It's all too much and it's all not enough. He licks his lips and tastes her lipstick and he wishes he could see her.

When she cups his cheek, he flinches.

"This feels…"

Horrible. Good. Terrifying. Perfect. Different.

"We can go slow," she says, and it's more than he could ask for. "But I'm here, and I'm yours."

He nods and attempts to find her, and he presses his forehead against her collarbone. She's warm there.

"Thank you," He's crying against her skin, and she skims her hand against his back.

He feels naked, a brush of cold hair against his chest where his defenses have cracked. She's pulling his armor down with a gentle touch, and he lets her until he hears it hit the ground loudly.

"You can relax now." He thinks he hears her say. Perhaps it was a dream. And when he hesitantly brushes his lips against her skin, he allows her in.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt fic #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x y/n #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x you #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt fluff #harry potter #wizarding world #harry potter fandom #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ominis #hogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy angst #my writing #fanfic writing #writing

[gh0stswh0re]

today's thots 😏: you have been begging ghost to tell you his name for days now. he does it while eating you out.

a/n: literally wrote this in 20 mins, fully aware it kinda sucks

he has you sprawled across his bed, your legs freely hanging over the edge. he is kneeling beside you, his hands holding your hips in place, the rough surface of his gloves ever so slightly scratching your soft, delicate skin, his half-masked face buried between your thighs, which are littered with hickeys and bite marks. he's hungrily lapping at your arousal, shamelessly delving his tongue inside you.

a quiet whimper of annoyance, of protest, leaves your lips when he releases the hold of his right hand on your hip, and removes his mouth from your needy, dripping cunt. he brings his fingers to his wet lips, catching the fabric of his glove between his teeth, quickly pulling it off and throwing it away, leaving it forgotten laying somewhere on the ground. his focus shifts back to you immediately - he inserts two of his thick, long fingers inside you. he begins flicking his tongue at your clit, while his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you so deliciously, so perfectly.

occasionally, he completely changes his movement – he lazily curls his fingers inside you, (a pathetic, half-assed attempt to stretch you even more), and simultaneously removes his tongue to gently suck on the swollen, sensitive nub.

you are far beyond the point of hiding your moans in embarrassment. your mind simply too foggy to process anything but the lewd, wet noises filling the room, the sinister, overbearing, pleasure.

he feels you clenching around his fingers, he hears every breath that catches in your throat and he pays full fucking attention to each and every one of your pretty moans that grow carelessly loud, animalistic, and primal. he notices your muscles tensing up, as your body shakes and your hips involuntarily jerk forward – he groans at the sudden contact.

you, though, are simply too far gone to realize any of this, too needy and eager for your sweet release, far too wrecked and broken to form any thought at all.

he removes his dominant hand from your warm cunt, which is pleading even for the smallest touch, the slightest friction feels heavenly. he quickly and messily wipes the wetness off on the side of his clothed thigh. never removing his hot, sloppy mouth in the process - he continues to swallow the sweetness of your arousal, every fucking bit of it, as if his life depends on it, as if all the oxygen was sucked out of his body, your being replacing the air that he inhales, the air that he would die without.

And then he … taps your thigh twice, as if to draw any crumb of attention left in that scrambled pretty mind of yours towards him. your chest feels heavy, and that impossibly sharp warmth in your abdomen threatens to spill all over your body, … yet you manage to shoot open your half-lidded eyes.

he's dragging his index finger across your thigh, barely touching the surface of your skin. it's a shape? a letter? the repeated movement confirms it, S – I. what kind of sadistic mind game is the cocky bastard playing now? and most importantly why is he doing it now when you are so -

he continues his merciless assault, - M

your back arches, legs trembling, - O

the control over your own body begins to slip away from you, both intoxicating and terrifying to experience. you physically feel the fiery pleasure inside you threatening to spill all over the edge - N

''Simon?-'' it's a god-given miracle that you gained enough composure to repeat the word, the name, out loud.

the last thing you feel, right before the pure euphoria spreads through your body and mind, is him smiling against you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley headcanons #ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #cod #cod mw22 #cod mw2 #smut

[lovelyiida]

mha guys as clingy boyfriends!

INCLUDES: BAKUGO KATSUKI, IIDA TENYA, SHOTO TODOROKI, IZUKU MIDORIYA

WARNINGS: implied gender-neutral reader, vulgar language?

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 1.9K

BAKUGO KATSUKI

bakugo isn't necessarily the type to show his clinginess in public too much, but at times when he's super stressed, he can't help it.

he just latches onto you like a baby wanting milk from their bottle.

he can be such a brat

"l/n"

"l/n"

"l/n"

bakguo would say, non-stop.

"why the fuck are you so clingy today?" you say, an irritant tone oozing from your lips. you were currently in the library, trying to study for tomorrow's pop quiz that Aizawa thinks no one knows about.

your boyfriend, Bakugo, is currently sitting too close to you. his chair facing you as his legs were tangled in yours. you didn't see it, but you felt Bakugo's eyes roll.

"what? I'm not allowed to touch ya?" he spits, a sly smirk plastered on his lips. you chose not to respond so that you could give your energy to the practice questions in front of you.

a long string of silence follows, you hear Bakugo let out an attention-seeking sigh. you chuckle at his attempt to get your attention.

"l/n!" Bakugo, yells out. mind that the both of you are in the library.

Bakugo starts to caress your leg with his, rubbing it softly with a slow rhythm. "l/n!" he sighs out again, you continue to your work, you almost swore to yourself that he whined for a moment.

another 10 minutes of name-calling went by, sighing you let out a smile. slamming your book shut, you look towards your boyfriend, only to find that he wasn't there.

looking around with a pouted lip, you let out a sigh and pack your things and head for the door. maybe he finally got the message you were putting out.

later into the night, you were settling for bed. you sat comfortably at your desk, combing through your hair listening to music to wind you down for a good night's rest.

you were one comb away from a napless bundle of hair until you hear a loud bang at your door. you jump harshly in your seat, startled by the loud noise.

"coming!"

jumping out of your seat, you slide into your slippers and head towards the door. you quickly look back at your calendar, you frown in deep thought. you could've sworn room checks weren't until next week.

opening the door, you let out a sigh.

"hello, Bakugo"

you see your boyfriend, a soft white pillow entrapped on his side. hair slightly damp, his signature black tank top paired with matching black sweatpants, paired with....grey bunny slippers-

whack!

your boyfriend knocks the air out of you with his pillow in one swift motion. quickly backing away you crash into the bed. hearing the door slam, you scramble around to sit up on your bed.

eyes widening, you watch your boyfriend tower over you. an evil smile shows on his lips, "so you think you were gonna ignore me the whole day and I wouldn't get my revenge?" he says smugly.

"you know I was busy studying, you can't put that against me!-"

wham!

his pillow slams against your face again.

"I don't care about that anymore!... I just want my lover" Bakugo mutters the last few words under his breath, a light blush rises to his cheeks as he shyly looks away.

your ears park up at the words he muttered, a sly smirk shows past your lips. "aw! you want cuddles?" you sarcastically cooed at your boyfriend.

Bakugo's lips draw into a thin line, quickly grabbing the pillow from his side and raising it to the air. you let out a shriek, hands flying to your face to protect yourself from the fierce blow.

Bakugo lets out a "tsk" before softly throwing it onto the side of your bed. waving your hands away, you notice the blonde leaning down towards your figure.

eyes widening, you were shocked by the sudden strong embrace of your boyfriend. his head buried into the crook of your neck, whilst his legs lay comfortably in between yours, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

Bakugo lets out a tired grunt, "just...shut up."

eyes still wide in shock, you swallow your spit.

letting out a soft chuckle, you wrap your legs around his waist and snuggle into his embrace.

"you big baby"

IIDA TENYA

helicopter mom mode ACTIVATED

it's like an involuntary thing he does, he just loves being by your side

it didn't matter what time of the day it was, where the location is, and who you were with, Iida was gonna be there. you told him multiple times that you're fine being alone, but he insists that it's good to have your boyfriend by your side.

and you couldn't agree more, it was just getting a little annoying.

"yeah! I made sure to tell Midoriya to move his seat over at lunch to make room for you! also, I talked to my brother the other day and he wanted me to let you know that he's very excited to meet you!-"

"Iida!" you yelled out.

"yes?" he says.

"you're about to follow me into the bathroom!" you say, Iida's eyes widen, a red blush becomes present on his cheeks. covering up his bashful evidence with his arm, he sharply turns away and heads out the bathroom entrance, and walks away.

besides those embarrassing moments, people would catch Iida always around you. whether it be in class, always next to you when it came to sparring or other activities. hovering over you in the library as he helped you with your work, sitting closely next to you at lunch, a smile plastered on his lips as he looks at you with the warmest smile they'd ever seen.

when the both of you were alone, Iida was even more clingy.

Iida was more comfortable keeping a certain image in the public, so PDA wasn't allowed between the two of you. but when you'd crash by his dorm for a quick chat, Iida was practically on top of you.

you lay next to each other on the bed, bodies facing each other as his hand lays perfectly on the curves of your hip. rubbing circles against the fabric of your bottoms, a soft smile on his lips as you ramble about today's problems.

sometimes you would talk, only to be cut off by Iida planting a soft peck on your face. whether it was your forehead, cheeks, temple, or lips. you'd giggle and "push him away," only to be chest-to-chest once more.

sometimes....sometimes you loved it when your boyfriend was clingy.

SHOTO TODOROKI

he's so shy about his clinginess that it's actually adorable.

no words, just him being glued to your side at all times.

Todroki wouldn't always be so clingy at times, he'd usually become clingy when he's happy.

you found out through time in the relationship that Todoroki can't express intense emotions through words (depending on which ones they are) but usually through actions.

today, he was happier than ever.

recently, he got the idea for you to meet his mother. asking her during one of his timely visits if you could meet this weekend, and she happily agreed.

it was an understatement to say that Todoroki wasn't over the moon about this.

you were currently in the kitchen making a short meal before your study session with Mina and Kirishima. in the process of chopping up some fruit, you feel two arms place tightly around your waist.

"she said yes," Todoroki mumbled in your ear. eyes going wide, you let out a gasp. turning around, you give him a hug with a bright smile on your face.

"I'm so excited to meet her Todoroki!" you gush.

"me too," he says.

I can imagine him just smiling into your shoulder like this :) lol.

he was happy the whole week, he never left your side.

he held your hand when the both of you walked together, during lunch time his hand would softly rest on your thigh. when you'd eat he'd make sure that there was no hair in your way by softly taking strays of hair out of your face.

during class, when he'd finish sparring with Bakugo. you'd notice how his face would show irritancy and stress, only for it to be whipped away when his chromatic eyes met yours. a soft smile would show and his arms would wrap around your waist and his face would burry into your shoulder once more.

when the day you and his mom meeting finally came, he was ecstatic.

he held your hand the whole bus ride to his mother's residence.

walking into the room where his mother was, you could tell he was nervous. his arm entwined with yours as your hand held tightly together, fingers laced perfectly in place.

as the day went on, he could tell that you and his mother really bonded. you'd share glances with your boyfriend, you could see how happy he was that you were here.

his hand softly resting on your backside the whole time the three of you interacted. when Todoroki's mother asked to get a drink for the both of you, he nodded. softly pressing a kiss on your head, he walks out of the room.

turning back to his mother, a soft smile plastered on his lips.

"thank you, for bringing happiness into my son's life."

a single tear sheds from her eyes, you begin to tear up. giving her a nod, you thankfully bow. your lips quivered as you let out a smile.

"I'm thankful for you bringing your son into this world... so that the both of us could meet."

IZUKU MIDORIYA

I believe he is the most normal out of everyone in my opinion

I think he would be clingy towards you when he wants something like the little shit he is

"baby~"

"no izuku! I'm not giving you anymore of my fries!" you laugh. you watch as your boyfriend cuddles to your side like a lost puppy looking for its owner.

his big green eyes look into yours, a permanent blush cascading over his face. "please! I wasn't able to get lunch today because I was held back by sensei!" he says, he tries to steal the fry out of your hand.

you catch on and quickly retract the fry from his grasp, "last time I checked, the whole class was held up by sensei." you spit at him.

Midoriya pouts at your words, you frown at his act. grabbing a couple of fries you place them in his hand, you watch him glow. his gummy smile glowing your way.

you giggle and pat him on his head.

it wasn't the first time he was this clingy towards you, on one Saturday evening you and your boyfriend were cuddling together and watching a show together.

looking up at the screen, you notice it's exactly 10 minutes before curfew. scrambling out of the bed you hear your boyfriend whines of protest.

"no, please don't leave! 5 more minutes!" he pleads.

"I'm sorry, but I can't! room checks start 5 minutes before curfew and you know that izuku" you say sternly. you watch your boyfriend walk up to you and trap his arms around your waist.

"please, please, please, please!" he yells.

"no!" you laugh.

Midoriya's pleas only get louder as he begins to wrap his legs around your waist, now he's pushing it.

"okay, okay, okay! 3 more minutes" you giggle.

your boyfriend yells in victory and starts to plant kisses all over your face, he's so spoiled you thought.

but you love him...

GUYS!! SO CLOSE TO 300 FOLLOWERS AHHH!!! i have something special planned so PLEASE promise me that you guys will check it out and that it won't flop lol, I put a lot of time and work into it.

⎯ lovelyiida ♥︎

#bnha imagines #bnha insert #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha x you #boku no hero academia #mha #mha imagines #mha headcanons #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha x you #mha deku #mha bakugou #mha iida #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #bnha iida #bnha deku #bnha bakugou #bnha kirishima #deku x reader #bakugo x reader #iida x reader #todoroki x reader

[doobea]

WAKE ME UP WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You realize that under his seven layers of unresolved teenage angst, Rin Itoshi is extremely sensitive, whether he wants to admit it or not.

contents: sfw, fluff, convos about growing up, gn!reader, proplayer!rin, play fighting!!, rin is kinda awk but its cute, first kiss and a lil bit suggestive but not really?, a birthday fic :) word count: 1.5K a/n: did i rush home to try and make a birthday fic for one of my favorite boys?? yea maybe. and goodbye i know his bday isn't today and im a day early but i wanna just drop this as an early celebration just so i can post sae on his actual birthday bc im secretly evil

Being Rin's one and only best friend comes with a lot of growing pains. Whether it be constantly receiving threats from his "super fans", always having to show up to his games just to drive him back home because he insists that he's too tired to walk back, or having to hear him vent about how absolutely shitty his older brother is.

And, much to no one's surprise, that dynamic hasn't changed even after becoming one of the nation's highest-praised athletes. And yes, he still insists you to drive him because he claims that his own private drivers "suck ass".

But there are some positive outlooks of being his one and only best friend. No, it's not the fact that you get free tickets to his games or the fact that you essentially eat for free whenever you're out with him. It's nothing materialistic of that sort. One of your favorite things is that he always picks up your packages, even when you order just a bit too much.

"You're going to break your bank account if you keep this up."

"It's your birthday. How can I not celebrate?"

There's a click from his tongue. "You know I hate celebrations."

You sit up from the sofa, flashing him the tiniest of smirks. "It's just gonna be between us. I'm not planning on inviting anyone over."

Rin rolls his eyes before setting down the mountain of delivery packages onto his apartment floor. It looks to be about eight... no twelve? You honestly lost track of how many items you ordered but not like that matters now. The packages vary in size and you can tell by the scowl forming on his face that he's confused by what you have in store this year.

"They're decorations, you dumb dumb." You finally answer after watching him struggle to think.

This only deepens his scowl. "It's my birthday and you want me to decorate?"

"Oh, so now you wanna play that card? Thought you didn't care about your birthday." The kick you receive to your legs is a clear indicator that you've successfully annoyed Rin Itoshi. Which really doesn't take that much effort, but it's still fun to tease him nonetheless. "Are you gonna help me now?"

Rin opens one of the smaller boxes, pulls out a roll of blue streamers, and puffs out his cheeks slightly in frustration. "Where do I put this?"

You blink. "Have you never decorated before?"

You watch his ears turn red and he quickly responds, "I have, idiot."

"You just—" Rin struggles with the streamers and you suppress a laugh when he accidentally tears a ribbon in half. "Actually, never mind, just leave it to me."

He takes a few defensive steps back when you stand up, clutching the streamer close and dear to his chest, shooting you one of his piercing glares. "Stop, I know what I'm doing."

"For someone who's so careful about his actions in football, you sure are clumsy when it comes to anything outside of that." The scrunch on his nose only solidifies your point.

You don't quite understand how someone like Rin can have such a meticulous lifestyle but then mess up when attempting to parallel park or even fry an egg. You're mostly teasing though. Mostly. It's not like any of his "clumsy" actions bother you.

"I made a birthday card for my mom once." He says as if that's enough proof to prove that he actually does know how to decorate. "It's on her fridge."

"Yeah? The one with the shitty drawing of you and Sae hugg—"

"You can stop now."

The blue streamer rolls to the ground as you lunge forward and smack it out of his hands. Rin is annoyed, very annoyed, and attempts to playfully aim at your shin again. You let him but this time around you push him back, aiming for his chest.

Rin is taller and stronger than you are but, during times like this, he holds back just enough for you to take the upper hand. Only for a brief moment that is.

You give up as soon as he pins you beneath him on the floor. "Ok," You manage out. "You win, you win."

Rin loosens his grip on your wrists and rolls over next to you. "That's what I thought."

After what feels like an eternity laying in silence on the floor, you speak up, letting your tongue run. "You know that I’m secretly jealous of you, right?"

His body shifts slightly from your peripheral but you keep your eyes glued to the ceiling. "Jealous how?"

"I don’t know how you do it but you always end up looking like some hotshot supermodel even with all that sweat. Too bad people don’t know that you’re actually so emo that it hurts." Despite saying it in a teasing tone, your lips curve into a small sincere smile. You didn't need to see his face to know that he was also smiling.

Another kick. "Shut up, you sound so dramatic right now."

You kick back but with less force. Too tired out from the struggle earlier. "Says the guy who wants to beat up his brother over football."

Silence hangs in the air again. And suddenly you become hyperaware of his proximity, the scent from the cologne he's wearing, and how melancholic he looks from your angle.

"Are you ever scared of growing up?" Rin's sudden question makes you sit up. "I think about that more often than I like."

You tense for a moment at his words and quickly collect your thoughts, shaking your head. "There's nothing scary about growing up. Think about all the cool things you got to experience. You accomplished a lot compared to when you were sixteen."

He hums. "That's true."

"And think about all the cooler things you haven't experienced yet. Like scuba diving and shit."

"What if I can't swim?"

"Then you take swimming lessons, dummy."

"Also true." He pauses and finally sits up with you. "You'll still be around, right?" Rin stares with his usual tight line on his lips but his eyes seem to be searching for something in yours. He looks very serious and also mildly stressed out.

You realize that under his seven layers of unresolved teenage angst, Rin Itoshi is extremely sensitive, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Hey," You offer a hand on his shoulder and he flinches at the contact. "As long as you're around, I'm gonna be around too." You say softly.

He holds your hand in place and squeezes it. "Even when we're both old and wrinkly?"

You squeeze his shoulder in response. "Definitely gonna stick around to see that."

There’s silence again for a minute, as he thinks it over. It’s not quite as awkward of a silence, but it’s still not entirely right. You're mentally preparing for another round of existential questions from your best friend. After a moment, Rin's leaning forward, instinctively pressing closer, and there’s something happening between you two. Some weird shift taking place.

Skinship of any form isn't something that Rin is comfortable exploring with just anyone. The most that he's gotten physical with is maybe a hug but even that lasts for just a fleeting second. You find yourself reciprocating and leaning close, relishing the fact that he doesn't do this often. And soon, you feel the sudden urge to kiss your best friend.

"Hey—Rin, do you..." You stumble over your words, but the way that you say his name catches his attention.

"Yes." He cuts you off before you get a chance to finish.

Rin leans in and you meet him halfway. Your noses bump awkwardly against each other due to the height difference and it causes you to laugh. Rin looks like he wants to be embarrassed and annoyed but he ends up laughing too. You two try again, shuffling yourself closer and placing your hands on his thighs to steady yourself, and this time it's better.

There's a bit of mint aftertaste left in his mouth from the gum he was chewing earlier and you didn't know if you should feel self-cautious of your own breath because you're pretty sure it tastes like the cereal you had this morning. You quickly decide it's out of your worries when you feel his hands around your waist, pulling you closer into his lap and deepening the kiss further.

Rin calls out your name when he pulls back and you're positive that you could pass out right now if you're given the option. "Stop looking at me like that." He frowns, red sweeping his own cheeks.

You swallow hard and tilt your head. "Like what?"

"Like you're nervous to be around me. I don't want that."

You feel yourself growing small under his touch. "Then what do you want, Rin?"

He furrows his brows together and you feel his fingers toy with the fabric of your shirt. Rin does this for a while before answering, "I just want you to stay by my side for as long as you can. Is that possible?" He whispers.

"If it's impossible then I'll make it possible for you, Rin." You close the distance and rest your chin on his shoulder. "I'll give you all my seasons if you want them."

You don't hear anything from Rin but soon his grip tightens around your waist and you swear you can hear him sniffling. You pretend to not notice. God knows what he'll do if you catch him crying. Instead, you close your eyes and rub his back gently in circles.

"Happy birthday, Rin."

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #blue lock headcanons #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #happy birthday u dumbfuck #how long r we gonna wait till you show up again #bye idk what the title should be #i just know his bday is this month #and i know this song... #and that hes major virgo vibes

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor (Part 2)

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 3)

Author’s note: idgaf Azzy is down baddy in this series it’s been 12 hours and he is gone baby

You waited until the next day to text Mor and Feyre, your friends chomping at the bit to know how you are, and you were expecting to sleep in quite a bit, when you discovered that Cassian likes to wake up early and sing. Loudly.

You texted your group chat entitled Hi, Barbie asking hey Mor why didn’t you tell me Cassian had a hot ass brother. You sent an immediate follow up message with the eye rolling emoji.

You didn’t bother locking your phone - Mor always responded incredibly quickly, because she knew if she put off responding she’d forget and never do it. You walk into your bathroom to brush your teeth as bubbles appear that indicate she’s typing.

Mor: 🤷🏼‍♀️ didn’t come up

Feyre: since when have you ever kept quiet about someone being hot

You: or the fact that they live next door

Mor: 🤷🏼‍♀️

You: not even a little heads up?

Mor: okay fine I thought the heads up might scare you away but they are really nice guys

You: I just wish I had known I’d be living with an Adonis who has two more Adonis brothers living next door

Your string of texts was interrupted by the door to your apartment opening and closing, some discussion in the living room, and a soft knock on your door.

“One minute,” you say, ignoring Feyre’s plea for photos of your neighbors. You get up, opening the door to find yourself face to face with Azriel’s chest. Your eyes slowly draw up his body to find him sheepishly looking at your Donald Duck pajama pants, a slight smile on his face.

“I’d ask if you’re ready but I’d assume you aren’t by your pajama pants.”

It comes back to you, having forgotten every moment of the conversation until you saw those hazel eyes that lure you in with their siren song. You would think the words he spoke would be ingrained in your memory, but what stuck to you was the feeling of his gaze on your skin, his undivided attention the previous night the most memorable part of the evening.

“I have to take the stupid rented truck back,” you sigh, taking a sip of your soda.

“When’s it due?” Cassian asks, his eyes not leaving the screen.

“11 tomorrow morning. Driving it was awful - the thing is massive. I almost got in three wrecks on the way here.”

Azriel, from his spot next to you, chimes in. “I could drive it back for you.”

You whip your head to him, surprised by the generosity of Cassian and his brothers. He’s looking at you, his eyes not straying from your own, a softness lingering in his gaze.

He continues, “I drove the truck when we moved in here, so I’ve done it before. Plus you do not want to experience Cassian driving anything, let alone a truck that size.”

Cassian rebukes, “I did not let Mor’s friend move in so you guys could all gang up on me!”

Rhys snorts, “yeah you did it because you wanted Mor to give you appreciation sex.”

Cassian doesn’t even try to look sheepish as he shrugs his shoulders, an attempt to downplay the truth at hand.

“Wait,” you say, attention diverting away from Azriel much to his annoyance. “Something I did got you laid. I deserve some kind of reward for unintentionally being a wingwoman.”

The conversation had continued, but you do recall that when Azriel left that night he had told you you’d see him today.

Your cheeks redden and you tell him, “just give me a minute,” as you close the door on him and quickly run around your room, brushing your teeth as you try to pull your shorts up over your legs. You quickly shoot off a text in your groupchat

Hottie no. 1 is driving my truck back

Before you can get a question back, you immediately follow up with

Azriel is hottie no. 1 btw

You find some more clothes, swiping on deodorant before you open the door back up and tell Azriel you’re ready. The two of you head to the elevator after you swipe the keys to the truck and to your car off the counter and shut the door behind you.

There’s a quiet over the two of you, and you realize that you don’t really know anything about Azriel. Granted you’ve lived next door to him for a grand total of 23 hours now, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to know everything about him.

“So how long have you known Rhys?”

The elevator doors close in front of you and as Azriel leans forward to push the button for the ground floor, your eyes are drawn to his well toned back, watching the muscles in his arms as he’s turned away from your wandering gaze.

“Since we were kids,” Azriel leans against the railing in the elevator, a space large enough to fit your mattress but somehow now feels too small to fit the both of you. “Rhys and Cassian lived next door to me.”

Your eyebrows quirk, confusion sweeping over you. “But wait - I thought you were Cassian’s brother?”

Azriel chuckles, a sound that brings heat to your cheeks at both your misconception and how much the melody affected you.

“No, we’re not actually related. Cassian just…” he trails off for a second, deciding where to carry this conversation. “We all have complicated families and so we made an uncomplicated one.”

The elevator dings, and Azriel holds his arm in front of the doors as you walk through it, heading towards the doors of the lobby. “That’s nice. Not the complicated family thing, but the fact that you guys are there for each other.”

You give him a brief smile, your eyes watching him in step beside you. He huffs, opening the door for you so you can walk under his arm.

“Most days I appreciate their presence. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t heavily weighed the pros and cons of killing Cassian on several occasions.”

You fake gasp, handing him the keys to the truck as you two walk towards it. “Cassian? No way he could ever be that annoying. He’s so sweet - he even woke me up this morning with his beautiful serenade.”

He rolls his eyes, opening your door before heading towards the driver’s side. A small smile graces your lips as you pull yourself up into the truck, settling into the seat as Azriel opens the driver’s side door, getting in next to you.

“He’s no saint and he snores like a chainsaw.”

You gasp, “that’s what that noise was? I thought the air conditioning was struggling all night!”

He snickers, turning the truck on and he pulls out of the spot you had parked it in. You provide him with directions as he drives, the rental place being a bit out of the way. His scent fills the small cabin, a scent of cedar and crisp rain and all you want to do is bury your head in his neck and breathe him in.

“Do you regret moving in with Cassian yet?”

His question catches you off guard, and you watch him take a left turn while you think about your new living situation. Living with Cassian wasn’t ideal, and you had been incredibly nervous about it leading up the move, but now you just felt calm, as if this was the right place for you to be in.

“Not yet, but his singing this morning almost made me reconsider.”

He smiles, his eyes twinkling as he does so. He’s absolutely stunning no matter what he does, but the way his face lights up when he gives a smile makes you want to keep doing it.

“He’s not very good, despite his numerous attempts at karaoke.”

Your eyes light up as you hit his arm, trying not to think about how toned and muscular it was, “Cassian does karaoke?”

He bites his lip trying to suppress his smile, “oh yes. He’s convinced he’s God’s gift to the poor patrons at Rita’s. He drags Rhys and I out to karaoke nights to try out his new material.”

“Please let me come next time, please. I need to see this.”

“Oh I didn’t even get to the best part.” His smile turns wicked as he tells you, “he spends all week working on a dance for the song too.”

You almost scream in delight. “Please, I will do anything if you can convince Cassian to let me come along the next time.”

“I think it’d be more of a miracle if Cassian isn’t trying to force you to come with us. But if he doesn’t extend an invite, I’ll be sure to collect on that deal to bring you along.”

His tone is one full of flirtatious sin as he parks the truck, the two of you arriving without your notice. You peer around, shocked at the ease he drove the truck.

“Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he tells you, and you both get out and walk into the rental place.

To return the truck, you have to give them your ID. The guy looks at your license, seemingly satisifed you are who you say you are. You’re digging in your bag for your credit card to pay, when the guy hands Azriel your license. You pay, and the two of you walk in silence to your car.

As you two get into your car, Azriel tells you to wait. He pulls out your license, looking at the photo, then holding it up so he can look at you. He glances between the laminated version of you who was not at all prepared for the photo that they snapped and the present you.

“Can you smile?” He asks, and you oblige his request, causing him to respond, “there are those dimples.”

Your mouth falls open as you blush, turning your car on so you can look away from his shit eating grin.

The car ride back to your apartment is full of conversation about what you both do in your free time, where you find out that Azriel spends a solid portion of his time working on his motorcycle and driving it around.

“I’ve never actually ridden on one before - what’s it like?” You ask, sneaking glances as you drive. You try desperately to keep your mind from thinking about wrapping your legs around his back, your arms around his middle as you zip through traffic on the back of his bike.

You decide maybe a cold shower is what you need when you get back because your mind cannot seriously be this deep in the gutter already.

From a quick glance you watch him look you up and down, the movement of his eyes making you want to squeal that he is definitely checking you out.

“We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?”

Azriel has no idea what has come over him this morning. He offered to take Cassian’s pretty roommate to drop off her moving truck and it’s like he’s been possessed by something way more charming than he ever has been. Every other sentence out of him has been flirtatious, and Rhys and Cassian would definitely have made fun of him for how deep he had made his voice earlier.

He just hopes to anyone listening that you don’t notice how badly his hands are shaking in his lap, or how his voice slightly waivers each time heat blooms in your cheeks.

He had found it so damn cute the way his words affected you, how you’d turn away, too shy to look at him. Perhaps that’s what kept spurring him on, or maybe it was just the amount of nerves he got in your presence that caused his filter to go away.

Azriel knew one thing - it’s been 12 hours, maybe, since he first saw you, and he’s already in way too deep. He’s never acted like this before, usually keeping to himself and not drawing too much attention. Even just offering to help you drive the truck was out of his comfort zone - a favor for a practical stranger. An offer that was so out of character Rhys and Cassian both looked at him in confusion last night, but thankfully didn’t press any further.

Concern courses through him, at what the effect you have on him and the inevitability of finding out it’s one-sided, until he sees your phone buzz and light up, a message in a chat titled Hi Barbie that says:

Look just tell me how hot this Azriel is I don’t need a photo

A second message dings

Is he like Chris Evans hot

A third message

Or like Aragorn in Lord of the Rings hot

Azriel reads the messages from the corner of his eye, your phone on a stand that extends from your windshield putting your screen on full display for him. He starts smiling as he looks out the window, hoping maybe you’re in just as deep as he is.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #falling in love on the fourth floor

[purecantarella]

High and Dry

day two (for me) yall!! im not going to lie, im not feeling 100% right now but im not going to be inconsistent just yet HAHAAHAH i hope you lovelies enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed imagining it hirai momo x 10th Member!Reader : day 9 edging disclaimer/s : smut. minors dni

Even before you and Momo started seeing each other exclusively, you knew her to be a huge tease. When you two started dating, it progressively got worse. Each time before practice, she made an effort to whisper the most depraved thing lowly into your ear before smiling coyly and rejoining the rest of the group.

It was absolutely maddening to you.

After weeks and months of built up frustration before practice, you snapped.

You woke up to Momo half asleep, smiling up at you. It's warm, it's a still moment. All until she nuzzles into your neck, leaving lingering and light kisses all over the exposed skin.

"Do we have to go to practice..." Before you can save yourself from her verbal onslaught, she pushes herself on top of you, cornering you against the mattress. "...when we could stay in all day..." The Japanese woman leans impossibly close with a smirk gracing her lips. "Doing everything and anything that pretty mind can think of..."

She pecks your lips gently, her cold hand running under your sleep shirt. You shudder as she pulls away. You know what she'd be doing next, pull away and get ready for the day, leaving you high and dry.

But not today.

Your hands quickly find her waist and flip her over. Your eyes glued to hers as they widen in shock. You'd never really been as bold as you were in this moment, Momo felt her heart pound madly in her chest. A nervous laugh claws its way out of her throat as she tries to push you off.

"Y/n...you know we have practice in an hour." Momo reasons to which you grin ridiculously down at her. You lean down, ghosting over her lips. You feel her release a shaky breath. "An hour is a lot of time, baby. Don't you think?"

Without another word, your lips are on hers. Momo's hands find your face, pulling you closer, her leg hooking to your waist. You feel her groan against your lips as your hands claw up her side. You smirk before pulling away, your head ducking down into the crook of her neck. Leaving open kisses along the column of her neck, your hands busying themselves against her chest.

She groans as the pad of your thumb brushes against her taut nipples. Flicking them up and down, your hand lowering the elastic of her shorts, exposing her hip as you rub slow circles. Momo releases a soft sigh. Her voice shaky as your hand dips into the expanse of her shorts, "N/n...fuck...please."

You smirk against her neck before lifting yourself up. You tilt your head with a quirked brow, "Well how can I say no to something said so sweet?"

Your hand dips into her sleep shorts, smiling to yourself as you feel her need for you. Her arms lock around your neck as your fingers draw tight circles around her clit. You listen to her soft whines, panting soft 'mores' under her breath. Finally giving into what she was begging for, you plunge a finger into her drenched center.

"Y/nnn...!" Momo choked out tightening her grasp around your neck. You place your lips on hers as you add another finger in a feeble attempt to silence her. You smile before slipping your tongue into her mouth, wrapping the muscle around hers as you allow a groan to scratch its way out of your throat.

You pick up the pace, your wrist beginning to cramp as Momo pulls away abruptly from your lips. Head falling into the pillow under her head. Her nails dig into the back of your neck while you watch her eyes begin to roll to the back of her head. "Baby...baby...babyyyy...!"

A small smirk grows on your lips as you pull your hand out of her shirt and shorts respectively. Momo's eyes bulge out of her head as you pull yourself out of the soft duvet of your bed. You run a hand through your hair before getting on your knees.

"Manager-unnie's probably going to be here in a little bit, we should head out Momoring." You get out of bed, stretching your back before disappearing into the bathroom. Despite shaky legs, Momo chases after you. She growls as she corners you against the sink, a self-satisfied smile on your face. "There's no way in hell you're leaving the house like—"

You lean in and peck her lips, biting her lower lip as she's left dazed. Placing a hand on her chest, pushing her back into the cool tiled wall of the bathroom. "Better take a cold shower, Momoring."

Before she can stop you again, your out the door. Leaving Momo high and dry was satisfying in of itself. Practice was going to be incredibly hellish for her.

and i had fun with this, albeit i am a day late HAHAHAHA i hope you all enjoyed it and i will see yall probably again in a few hours for the actual day 10!! i'll see you all vv soon, keep safe my lovelies!! - r

#twice #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice smut #twice momo #hirai momo #momo x reader #momo imagines #momo smut #kpop idol x reader #kpop idol imagines #kpop idol smut #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #girl group smut #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop smut #purecantarella #kinktober 2023

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Long Ride p.1

A/n: I had this idea a few days ago and just really wanted to write it for other people who might enjoy it, full disclosure I wrote part of this in a room full of people and was panicking during that so there's a part I feel is significantly lower quality than the rest lmao I hope you enjoy is nonetheless and if you have any requests let me know and I'll be happy to write for it :3

Warnings: Smut, car sex, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, age gap, I think that's it but if you catch anything I missed please let me know :3

Link to part 2

The streets of L.A. where you lived with your boyfriend, Slash, were always so lively. Every turn led to a new version of the city and it amazed you everyday. Except for today.

You stared out the window as all the streets passed you by and it wasn’t the same. You weren’t passing through all the fun party spots, you weren’t heading to some neat studio. All honesty you had no idea where Slash was taking you, all you knew was that the buildings were all boring and bland and it was driving you nuts.

Slash had the radio on low, playing some oldies songs and you enjoyed the music. It bled into the background so you could at least distract yourself with your thoughts.

Letting your mind run while you sat there with nothing much better to do was great until your mind began wandering in... other directions.

Soon your thoughts trailed away from what the rest of your day was going to look to what Slash’s fingers would feel like inside of you. You knew the answer, of course, but the idea was more than intriguing right now.

You reached for Slash’s hand. Thinking you just wanted to hold his hand he happily accepted the touch and held your hand right back, giving it a small squeeze. You smiled at his hand, long, thick fingers entangled between your own, slimmer ones. His big rings causing an uncomfortable heat to form between your legs.

You bit your lip and pulled his hand to your thigh. Slash quickly glanced at you but then kept his attention on the road. “What are you doing?” He asked in that sweet soft and raspy voice of his.

“Nothing.” You answered as you began sliding your shorts down. Slash looked at you again and gave a quick slap to your hand when he saw what you were doing.

“I have to get to a meeting, what are you doing?” You bit your lip again at his stern tone.

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” You groaned, rolling your eyes at him. “I’ll do all the work, I just need your hand.” You told him and pulled your shorts further down your thighs. Slash shook his head at you but didn’t protest any further. He took the rings off his fingers and dropped them into the cup holder so they wouldn’t get in the way for you.

Once you got your shorts off along with your underwear you took his hand and brought it to your clit, waiting for him to circle it like he normally would. Only he didn’t. His hand lay there limply in yours. You looked up at him with a pout, to which he responded by shaking his head again. “You wanted to be a big girl and do it yourself, so do it yourself.” He said with a shit eating grin that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You scoffed at him, but he was right. You said you’d do it yourself and you would do it yourself. Using his hand.

Slowly you pushed one of his fingers into you, you were already soaked so it wasn’t hard. Unlike Slash who had a very visible tent in his jeans.

Slash stuck to his words and wasn’t moving his hand at all, not even curling his fingers. Nothing. So it was up to you to roll your hips to get some friction going.

You ground against his hand, pumping just the one finger in and out of your hole until you were ready for another, the familiar stretch drawing a whine from you. Slash kept driving as if nothing was happening. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him as you fucked yourself on his hand, loud moans ripping from your throat, mostly in an attempt to get him to do something.

While you were riding his hand you were touching yourself, trying to mimic the way Slash always does when you’re watching movies. Lazily but with a sense of urgency, teasing you then giving you exactly what you had been begging for in the most intense degree. I didn’t matter, it was the same. Even so, you were still getting close with whatever it was you were doing right.

The familiar knot built back up in your gut, your eyes crossed as it was about to burst. You had the seat pushed back, your legs were parted as far as you could get them in the seat without bothering Slash as he drove along his way.

You clenched around Slash and your back arched but before you actually hit your release he pulled his hand away, taking any pleasure you’d derived from it as well. You whined loudly and sat up, looking at Slash with a pout and teary eyes. “Why would you do that?” You asked, still playing with your clit in a desperate attempt to feel something again.

“I don’t need you making a mess in my car.” He stated bluntly. You glanced around again at all the boring buildings and landscapes as you drove past them. You whined and tried to get yourself off on your own hands, rubbing your clit, pumping your fingers in and out of your hole. You couldn’t help but cry, it wasn’t the same without him. No matter what you did, if you curled your fingers, if you went faster, it didn’t matter. That knot was no longer there, not waiting to burst.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, soft sobs left you as you desperately attempted to get yourself over the edge that just seemed to be moving further and further away.

Slash pulled into a parking lot. There were no other cars in the small space, the building attached to the lot was very obviously abandoned with broken windows and it was covered in art. You watched Slash get out of the car and come around to your side. He opened the door and stared down at you. “Get out.” He ordered.

“What? Why?” You asked, your voice weak and shaky still. Slash let out a heavy sigh before reaching over you and unbuckling your seatbelt. You quickly pulled your shorts back up but you didn’t have time to do them up as Slash pulled you out of the car. He wrapped an arm around your waist and walked with you towards the abandoned building.

You kept looking around as you went, looking for anyone around or any sign of what he was doing. Just something, anything. Slash led you to the alley between the abandoned building and whatever the other place was beside it. It was gross and stank from the industrial garbage bin shoved in there.

Slash shoved you against one of the brick walls, a place where you were mostly hidden by the garbage. He got your shorts off again then pulled himself out of his jeans.

He pushed between your thighs, using your slick as lube. “Happy now?” He asked, his voice harsh in your ear. You whined softly and nodded. Slash scoffed and shook his head. “Fucking bitch.” He mumbled as he aligned himself with you before pushing all the way in with one thrust. You let out a moan as he slid in, hitting your sweet spot as he did so. Slash’s hands gripped your hips, you were sure to find bruises later.

Slash didn’t wait for you to adjust and started thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace. Your jaw was slack as whines and moans left you like a second language. He hit deep inside of you while his fingers went to work on your clit, rubbing aggressive circles over the sensitive nub. He bit and sucked your neck, leaving dark marks leading down to your shoulder.

That familiar knot built up in your gut and finally you felt like you could hit your release. “Fuck, Slash-Slash, ‘m gonna-gonna cum.” You managed to get out. Slash didn’t stop, he didn’t say anything. Your legs buckled and shook underneath you, the only thing keeping your standing were Slash’s arms around you. After teasing and abusing your poor hole Slash let you cum and you squirted all over the brick wall and concrete ground, soaking your shorts and beneath you as well.

Slash pulled out and slapped your ass. “Better now?” He grumbled as he did his pants up. You turned to look at him and leaned back against the wall. Your breathing was heavy, there was a thin layer of sweat coating your body. Your gaze wandered up and down the man before you.

“You-you didn’t finish.” You mumbled, looking at his crotch. Slash nodded and threw his arm over your shoulder again so he could lead you back to the car.

“I have a meeting to get to.” He said, rubbing your arm. “I’ll finish dealing with you afterwards.” He opened the passenger door for you and reached over to buckle you in, slapping your thigh as he pulled away and closed the door.

#Guns n roses #Guns n roses fanfic #Guns n roses smut #gnr smut #Saul Hudson #Saul Hudson x reader #Slash smut #Slash x reader #Slash

[noonswrites]

Muse

synopsis: Xavier just wants a picture of you so he can draw it. things don’t go according to plan…

warnings: blowjob, penetration, fingering

it was an accident really. a genuine, complete, accident. you just wanted to support your talented friend who had been begging you for a subject for his next painting.

“please! it doesn’t have to be a good photo of you, I just need one for reference” he says exaggeratedly as you make your way to class. his giant frame is never an inch away from yours if he can help it, and today is no different. he’s tugging on your arm like a lost puppy as he begs you to be his muse for the millionth time.

“oh, so you’re saying I take bad photos?” you reply snidely.

he grins widely, knowing your games too well by now “you know that’s not what i meant” and gives you a playful push.

“i’ll think about it xavier, but you should really find another victim”

“i believe the correct term is “muse” dork”

“keep calling me dork and see where that gets you” he puts his hands up, mimicking what he would look like “surrendering” to you.

Xavier wishes he could hide how excited he is to draw you again. He can’t wait to combine his two favorite things: you, and his obsession with art. what you don’t know is Xavier wants to take this opportunity to ask something he’s been too shy to say for years….

when the seemingly never ending school day is finally over, he walks you to your room. your hallmate left for the week, so it was just you and Xavier sprawled out on your bed. he sat at the foot of it, legs crossed while yours were draped over his lap.

he eagerly awaits you to send him a picture while you briskly scroll through your camera roll. you finally deem one appropriate for his next masterpiece, a selfie of the two of you. his arms wrapped around your neck while you’re giving him a jokingly disapproving look. at least, that’s what you think you’re sending him. Xavier however, receives a completely different image that you accidentally sent instead.

he quickly taps on the notification with his pencil ready, opening up a photo of your breasts on display. “o-oh my god”

“what?!” you exclaim, confused at his reaction.

“are you sure that’s what you want me to draw?” he says timidly.

“yeah, unless you have a problem with it i guess” it’s too late now, you’re absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

Xavier tries to start drawing, he really does. truthfully, he started getting hard the minute he opened the photo and now he’s trying to get a grip on his pencil, which won’t stop shaking in his hand. you can feel his dick rising since your leg is still on his lap, causing you to look up.

this is when you notice he’s shaking. “Xavi, what’s wrong?”

Xavier can barely bear the nickname right now, combined with everything else he’s experiencing.

“i’m- i’m sorry. i don’t know if i can draw this” Xavier shows the phone to you and you turn a shade of red he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

“oh shit! oh fuck i’m so sorry oh my god fuck!” you cover your face with your hands.

Xavier, although nervous, tries his best to reassure you and puts a gentle hand on your leg. “it’s ok, i just didn’t think we were at that level, you know?”

you spread your fingers, peeking your eyes through “it’s fine, really” he gives a weak, bashful smile. a part of him kind of wishes you did send it on purpose, and it’s not like he hadn’t thought of his best friend naked before…

in a desperate attempt to change the subject you ask “does that hurt?” while staring at his now erect penis that creates a tent in his sweatpants.

“um- i- “

“i can help you with it if it does- i read somewhere that it hurts when you- you know-“ words are coming out of your mouth faster than your brain can process what’s happening now… “if not we can forget this ever happened and i won’t tell anyone- i promise” you’d probably regret saying that later, but right now, you can’t help it. you’ve had the biggest crush on xavier forever and if you’re being honest, you’re in a pretty similar aroused state right now.

“i don’t know… i don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable po-“

“i want to” you cut him off “i’ve wanted to for years Xavi” you’re crawling towards him now.

“do you want to?” you ask him, although the evidence is all over his face, he looks almost pained. his mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are focused on your lips. lips that he has thought of kissing for months now, but this time, he doesn’t resist the urge.

Xavier can’t hold it anymore, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. it’s hesitant at first, both of you in shock that it’s finally happening. it takes seconds for it to get sloppy. you break apart only to climb on xavier’s lap, and you don’t miss the distressed look he wears as a result of moments apart from you. you’re quick to relieve him, sitting down with your thighs on either side of his hips, and both of you stifle a moan when your clothed cunt makes contact with his dick. now it’s your turn to grab his face and he loves every second of it, wanting nothing more than to fawn over you as you use him for your pleasure. you, however, won’t have that, stopping at nothing until he’s completely ruined.

you take his bottom lip between yours and suck on it, and Xavier swears he’s seeing stars. he starts getting messy as both of your lips are covered in each other’s spit and that alone is making him dizzy. he doesn’t even realize he’s begun to grind his hips upward trying to relieve himself in the friction you’re creating. you tell him to pull off his t-shirt and he does so immediately, and you do the same. he smoothes his hands up and down your waist as if you’re made of glass, looking you up and down with a mixture of reverence and desire. you almost want to laugh at him because you’d never imagine seeing your best friend like this, looking at you like he’d been starving for days and desperate to kiss you again, but you settle for giving him an amused smile.

“what is it?” he asks with the most precious look of confusion on his face.

“you’re so cute baby” his eyelashes flutter and he looks away, he shifts slightly while trying to pretend the new pet name doesn’t turn him on more. you can tell that he’s smiling too now, internally giddy.

you start to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, and he lets out a pleasure filled sigh. when you start to teasingly lick his abdomen he tenses up again, and you hear a soft “ah” escape his lips. you unbutton his pants and pull down his boxers and Xavier starts to tremble. he looks down at you with watery eyes and you take his dick in your hand. he lets out a hiss at your warmth.

you start to kiss his shaft and his brows furrow but his eye contact never wavers. if xavier could have this moment tattooed on his brain, he would. when you take his head in your mouth and suck he jolts, unable to control his movements at this point. you slowly take more of him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. you start to stroke xavier’s leg with your free hand and xavier’s gaze softens at the tender gesture.

you slowly take him deeper into your mouth, astonished that you’ve made it this far without choking. “fuck” he cries as you fit all of him in your mouth. you start a slow rhythm of sliding your lips up and down his shaft and xavier lies back, helpless to your actions. you can feel how tense the muscles in his stomach and legs are, doing his best to hold back his impending orgasm. as you speed up, xavier begins to babble uncontrollably, a mixture of “you feel so good”, “you’re so pretty, fuck!”, and so on. you fondle his balls and he’s almost sent over the edge, but you pull yourself off of him just in time.

he stares at you, dazed “did i do something wrong?” god, you’d do anything for those puppy dog eyes.

“no baby, just wanted you to come inside me, is that alright?” xavier wants to pinch himself.

“y-yeah” he leans in for another clumsy kiss, drunk on the feeling of being so close to you. it’s full of tongue and lips crashing together, but quickly ends with a gasp as you guide his cock to your pussy.

xavier watches himself enter you in a trance, completely mesmerized at your facial expression and the stretch of your cunt. when your fully seated, a tear falls down his cheek. you admit, you may have overstimulated him a bit. you wipe it away with your thumb and apologize. “i’m sorry for making you wait my love” he doesn’t seem to care at this point.

Xavier reaches his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer, causing you to moan at the adjustment “you’re s-so warm” he lets out.

“can i take this off?” he says as a hand slides over the clasp of your bra.

“yeah” you reply, and he begins to fiddle with the hook. he slides it off of your shoulders.

“so, do you think i’m a catfish?” you inquire. he lets out a wholesome laugh and you follow suit. Xavier gently pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places his palm on your cheek.

“i think you’re the opposite of a catfish” you blush and attempt to turn your head away, but he pulls you in for another kiss. he moves to kiss the corner of your lips, then your chin, your jaw, and finally stops at your neck. he nibbles your jugular and then sucks, and your hips buck forward as he finds your sensitive spot. Xavier moans and you take this as a sign to keep moving.

you grind down on him and Xavier does his best to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of pleasure. he’s already about to cum, holding on just so he can get you to try to finish first. he slides his hands down to your ass pushing you down on his cock while he pushes his hips up, effectively guiding himself deeper than you thought possible. you yelp and Xavier watches your features contort, repeating the action so he can listen to you moan again and again. he shifts one of his hands close to your cunt and guides a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles, prompting you to jolt and start bouncing on his cock more eagerly than before.

“shit- shit- fuck!” Xavier doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, he only knows that he’s been close to cumming for more than an hour now, and he’s about to burst. you wrap your arms around his neck for stability and pick up your pace.

“oh my god” he whines and his grip on your hips tightens. you realize how close he is, so you stop your movement.

“no- no! i need it please” his head falls into your neck and you stroke his back.

“i know my love, i just need you to ask for it nicely okay?” he lifts his head and you coo at his tear stained cheeks. “do you think you can do that for me?”

“y-yeah” you start to move again immediately, not wanting to prolong his suffering any further. Xavier cant stop himself from thrusting into you, and you let him, enjoying the look in his eyes as he starts to fall apart.

“are you gonna cum soon baby?” you ask after a particularly hard thrust.

“y- yes please- please can i c-cum?” Xavier is shaking uncontrollably now, his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated.

“yes my love” you smile “but you can’t take your pretty eyes off of me okay? i want to see you” Xavier is blushing harder than ever, he’d never admit that’s what sent him over the edge. he does his best to keep his eyes on yours, his mouth open and letting out angelic moans while his nails dig into your hips. he thinks your the most beautiful person alive as you keep up your pace grinding on his cock. his brows furrow and fresh tears arise as you continue to speed up, a look of tortured confusion mixed with euphoria on his face.

“i- i can’t please!” he wails. you finally cease your movement, panting. xavier pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your sweaty body in any place he can reach.

“thank you, thank you, thank you” he repeats between kisses. you flop down onto your mattress, and xavier hovers over you, smothering your face with kisses.

“baby, i want to make you cum now. can i? please? need to watch you cum” he babbles.

“you don’t have to Xavi, but yes” you’re still catching your breath.

“i want to” and without hesitation he slides his fingers to to your sopping cunt. “so wet… such a pretty pussy” you bury your face in the pillow.

“no need to be shy my love…” his thumb rubs over your clit and your thighs clench. he pushes them open gently, eyes fixated on your pulsing cunt. he slides two fingers in, feeling his own cum inside of you and trying his best not to get hard at the sensation. he curls his fingers upward and your hips shift at the sensitivity. he holds them down with his free arm and continues his ministrations. he probes for your most delicate spot and knows he’s found it when you squeeze his arm and whimper. you lift your head again and he meets your eyes, staring at you as he quickens his pace. you’re already worked up so it doesn’t take much after that, but what sets you over the edge is his decision to take your clit into his mouth and kiss it sloppily. your legs shake and kick and he happily continues to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm, grinding down on them.

now you’re truly exhausted, and Xavier curls up next to you as you continue to catch your breath. “y’know, i was going to use the painting as a way to ask you out…” you perk up at this.

“really?!” xavier beams at you.

“yeah” you pull him into a kiss and he doesn’t stop smiling.

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