#the more things I make the more I feel like I’m spiraling deeper and deeper

[majestyeverlasting]

A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath. 

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels. 

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts. 

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits. 

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?” 

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind. 

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped. 

“Mhm,” you hum, certain. 

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.” 

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.” 

He squeezes you back tighter. 

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home. 

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own. 

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work. 

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself. 

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.” 

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.” 

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something. 

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.” 

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures. 

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.” 

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world. 

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.” 

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy. 

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you. 

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table. 

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had. 

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold. 

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.” 

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex. 

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay. 

The two of you get off at the fifth floor. 

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath. 

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious. 

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself. 

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you. 

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you. 

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying. 

“You win, you win!” 

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words. 

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. 

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him. 

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within. 

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause. 

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself. 

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling. 

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them. 

_

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much. 

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WARM ME UP ; — cock-warming various blue lock boys.

FEATURING: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, bachira meguru + mikage reo.

warnings: f!reader, cockwarming, all characters written 22+, a little teasing in some, slight somno in bachi’s [hes inside of u before ur asleep], slight body worship (?) in reo’s, sensitive boys mostly. note: my mind spiralled w nagi’s first so that’s why his is longer but i decided 2 make it into hcs.

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO

“fuck—ah, y’re g’nna make me die, quit feeling sooo good ‘ts no fair.” nagi murmurs from where he’s got you spread across his lap, resting on the edge of his bed with his cock buried in your sweet walls as he tries to beat his own high score on his game.

you’d gotten a little bored watching him, a little needy as you pressed yourself up against him and admired the way he’d bite on his lower lip as he concentrated, skilful fingers tapping at the buttons on his controller as small, low grunts of frustration fell from his parted lips.

but nagi had welcomed you so easily when you’d made your way into his lap, lifting up his arms to allow you to slide right in before he sent you a lidded, questioning look when he felt you pull at the waistband of his sweats. “huh? ‘m in a game right now, angel.”

“it’ll help you concentrate, sei.. promise.”

it’s doing anything but though, the snowy-haired striker underneath you realises with another needy, warm twitch of your walls around him. even just the press of your chest against his is driving him crazy, feeling you press kisses along his jawline when he whines from missing another shot — he can barely concentrate on anything but you.

“no fair.. you made me miss another headshot, pretty thing.” nagi grumbles as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, sighing while a tight, cute pout rests on his lips. but it’s almost like an apology, the sinful press of your hips against his as you push closer — just enough to knock the air out of him when you press his cock even deeper into you.

“hey, c-come on! angel, y’re playing dirty, wanna up my online ranking.” there’s an unsteady waver to his words that’s followed by the instinctive twitch of his hips into yours, like he’s chasing more of the friction you're teasing him with as he sighs.

“think of it as a boss fight, sei.. don’t wanna make it too easy.” your words are whispery and pretty as you pull back to trace your fingertip across the shape of nagi’s jawline — drawing his full attention as his head twists to look at you. hes starry eyed and dazed, flushed from his cheeks to his neck and you’re pretty sure the eye contact alone makes his cock twitch from where it’s pressed into you.

“eh, ‘ts no fair when you know all my weaknesses, pretty thing. gotta try somethin’ else, i guess.” it’s drawled, filthy the low tone his voice takes before he’s drawing closer to kiss you, whimpering against your lips before he’s forgetting the controller in favour of grabbing you instead.

the quick movements are followed by your back meeting the mattress as he presses you into the sheets with every deep, messy press of his lips. “sei! your game.” you gasp when your words urge his first real thrust into you, so deep and good that your toes curl from where they’re wrapped around his hips.

“eh, it’s fine.. ‘ll beat it later, f-fuck—wanna win this side quest first.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE

sae was tired from practice today, but you were feeling particularly needy and as much as his muscles ached — he still couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage, especially when you were already palming at him just as he returned home.

“i’ve been at practice all day, know i’m tired. is this how you welcome me home?” he drawls from where he’s got you spread out against him — your back is resting against his chest as your head rolls back against his shoulder, thighs hooked over his own as his fingers circle your clit — unmoving even though his cock is already buried deep inside of you.

there’s a certain sharpness to sae’s tone that makes you twitch, shaking your head against him as your nails scratch along his forearm. you’re so desperate for him, for him to move and fuck you — it wouldn’t take much, not when he’s touching you just right, but it’s not enough — he knows that.

“just need you, sae. i, ah—missed you today..” your hips twitch above him, an obvious little plea as his cock brushes along the spongy spot inside of you but he’s too fast, sighing before his free hand is pressing your hips back tight against his.

"how much?" sae grunts with the sweet, frustrated whine that pushes past your lips as he grinds up into you - offering you an inch before he takes it from you completely, pressing a kiss against your shoulder after like hes trying to soothe you. "how much did you miss me, hm?"

the way he presses into your clit is deliberate, baring down harder on the puffy bud until you’re thighs are shaking and twitching, begging for him to hurry up and move. your lips part, head lolling back against his shoulder before he’s pressing another smeared kiss against your cheek, and sending you a sharp looks that’s urging you to hurry up and answer.

“so much, missed you so much! been waiting for you, sae.. wanted you here.” your voice breaks under the weight of your arousal but you swear you feel sae’s cock twitch at the sound. it’s followed by a low hum, like he’s considering your answer before his hand on your hip eases — finally letting you move with another slow roll of his own that presses his cock against the swollen, sweet spots inside of you.

“then take what you need, sweetheart. don’t keep me waiting.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN

it was impossible to move rin from his place on the couch when he’s examining team plays, his own most importantly — teeth gritting with concentration despite the way you’re pressed into his chest, palming at his body as his cock rests inside of your slick cunt.

but as good as it feels, finally having him buried in you like you asked, you’d rather he was moving — turning you to putty above him and fucking every single thought out of your mind that wasn’t him. so you decide to test the boundaries a little, shifting your hips deliberately until you feel his large palms squeeze at your hips and your boyfriend hiss from between his teeth.

“quit— fuck, quit it.” you almost shiver at the low, sharp tone rin’s voice takes but you can tell there’s no real irritation behind it when you notice the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. he’s just as wound up as you are, his brows crumbling as he tries to focus on the tv infront of him — nibbling on his lower lip to distract him from the warm squeeze of your walls.

“you said you wouldn’t move..” he grits, still refusing to meet your gaze despite the way every squeeze of your hands across his body makes his breathing hitch. you’ve got him so fucking wound up, he’s so lukewarm — so sensitive, he can’t even control himself for 10 fucking minutes.

“but i need you, rin. not my fault you feel so good.” rin can feel the back of his neck stinging with a flush when you smear a kiss along his jawline, making his fingers squeeze even tighter into your hips before he’s growling under his breath. but the way you purr when he readjusts himself beneath you, melting into him with a tiny, slight grind of his cock into you makes him feel fucking dizzy.

it’s fast, the way he’s suddenly readjusting his feet and beginning a pace that’s too quick, and if it wasn’t for his grip on you — you’d have bounced off of his lap completely. every wet smack of his hips is loud and clapping and driven by the pure determination to feel you creaming around him as he sends the game on the tv a lidded glare.

“can’t even control yourself—uggh, shit—you’ve got until the first half finishes to cum or ‘m stopping.. and you better—take all of it.”

✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU

it had become sort of a routine at this point, bachira would come home from practice — wound up and so fucking hard before he was fucking you senseless, followed by him falling asleep pressed up against you while his cock still rested inside of your cunt.

you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t comfortable though and he knew exactly how to get you to accept, bathing you in wet presses of his lips and low chuckles. “jus’ wanna feel you round me, baby. m’kay? sleep sooo good like that, so warm.” you couldn’t deny him, not when you’re still coming down from the orgasm he’s dug out of you.

but now, you feel yourself wake up from your own nap — roused by the sudden movement behind you as you feel bachira’s chest press tighter against your back — followed by the sudden, deep press of his cock along the still swollen spots inside of you. “baby~ already so wet, should’a just woke me up if you wanted it, gotta take care of you.. m’kay?”

you’re not sure if it’s the sleep that still laces your body but you already feel like putty at his touch, he’s deliberately grazing his cock along the spots that crave him most — sending intoxicating little aftershocks through your body that have you gasping with every quick thrust.

bachira chuckles when your lips part to moan, followed by another loud, wet smack of his hips as his head rests against the back of your shoulder. “already so wet, baby. mhm.. you been dreaming ‘bout me? feels like you have~” he sings, whimpers when he feels you squeeze around him at the words but that only pushes him to go faster, deeper.

it’s hard to believe he was sleeping a moment ago with how well he’s working your body, palming and grabbing at your figure as moans fall from his lips — burying them into your skin as he smears kisses along your shoulders. every deep press of his cock is eased by the remnants of both your previous orgasms, squelching loudly as he pushes himself even deeper.

“awww~ i knew you wanted it, baby. mhm— ah! just gotta ask, can make you feel so good~ lemme take care of you, m’kay?”

✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO

reo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious — although he’d spend his whole day proving it to you if he had to. every touch of his hands on your skin made you melt into him, he worked you with such precision but such a gentleness that you couldn’t help but seek out more.

but these moments specifically were some of your favourites, the ones when he’s pulled you onto his lap — onto his cock as his fingers leave featherlight touches along your skin as he looks up at you. it was intoxicating, to watch him appreciate every part of you, taking a slow, languid palmful of your breast as he loses himself in the mindless squeeze of your walls around him.

“does that feel good, bunny? yeah?” reo asks as his breathing cools the spit he’s left across your tits, giving you a lidded — dazed look until you’re nodding out a yes and he’s messily dragging his tongue along your nipple. you feel dizzy with how good it feels, every squeeze of his palm as he suckles at your nipples languidly, massaging and pinching at you as you try your best to keep your hips still.

but every lav of his tongue, every slow and mindless roll of it over your aching tits makes him twitch from where he’s buried in you but he’s too intoxicated, too enamoured by the way your walls squeeze with every swipe of his muscle against you.

“fuck, bunny. look so pretty, keep still for me. kay?” it almost hurts how tight your fingers are digging into reo’s shoulders with your sweet little uh huh, followed by another dreamy whimper as he suckles kisses from one breast to the next. his cheeks and chin are slick with his own spit from every sloppy press of his lips against you, and it feels so fucking good despite the way his cock still hasn’t moved inside of you.

a shaky sound breaks from his lips when you let your head roll back, your hands smoothing through his hair before the pull at the roots and he feels like he could fucking cum right there and then. you feel fucking boneless above him, melting with every greedy palm and press of his lips and hands.

“that’s it, bunny. wanna see how much you need me first.”

© 2023 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk x you #nagi x reader #nagi smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #rin x reader #rin smut #sae x reader #sae smut #reo x reader #reo smut #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae smut

[imyourbratzdoll]

Bucky angst fic idea!

Bucky always flirting with Sarah to make Y/n jealous, but what he doesn't realise is all these are just making her more insecure and hurting her (blame my past relationships for that).

And it's quite apparent that she's hurt. By the time he realises, Y/n is deep into the spiral. But obviously, a happy and fluffy ending (maybe smut), cause otherwise I will die from broken heart 😩😩

I hope you enjoy this! and I'm sorry you've had bad experiences with relationships. It's their loss.

summary - bucky flirts with sarah to make you jealous, forgetting that you aren't as secure as you come off.

warning - angst, fluff.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

‘Did I do something wrong?’ You think as you watch Bucky laugh at something Sarah said. ‘Maybe I’m not pretty enough for him anymore?’ His eyes flicker over to you, shooting you a smirk before he looks back at her, touching her arm softly with his metal one. ‘What could he be saying for her to laugh like that?’ You don’t know why you're doing this to yourself, but you continue to watch. Every laugh, every touch, every word sends pain through your chest.

You don’t notice Sam looking over at you, and you don’t see how he shoots daggers at Bucky and his sister. The only time you are brought out of your haze is when you hear shouting, blinking away the tears in your eyes. Your gaze focuses on Sam pushing and punching Bucky, screaming at him. You watch as he turns and begins shouting at his sister. 

You get up and decide to leave because watching Bucky fight back and defend another woman and his actions feels more painful than watching them flirt. After walking for a while, you come across a secluded area with a beautiful ocean view, feeling so lost in your head that you don’t get to enjoy the sounds of nature around you. Your mind was too busy racing with thoughts of not being good enough for anyone anymore that maybe you should’ve never fallen for the blue-eyed soldier's smile or sweet words.

Because you left, you don’t notice Bucky’s gaze focusing on the empty spot or that he no longer hears Sam screaming in his ear. You don’t see the utter panic appearing on Bucky’s face or that he begins to spin, frantically searching for you. You are so lost in your head that you don’t hear him screaming your name, you don’t hear him finding you, you don’t hear the utter relief in his voice when he whispers your name.

Because why would you? This man you thought was supposed to love you and only you, who wasn’t supposed to hurt you, did. Knowing how insecure you are, pulling you deeper into your mind that, of course, you wouldn’t notice him looking for you or finding you. Because you didn’t think Bucky cared enough to come looking for you, you thought that he’d be too lost in Sarah’s eyes to notice you missing. 

“Baby?” Bucky walks forward, “Doll?” His brows furrow as he doesn’t receive a response, walking so that he’s in front of you. His heart jumps in his throat when he sees how far he’s pushed you. Bucky quickly crouches down, taking your tear-soaked cheeks in his hands. “Babydoll, I’m so sorry! Fuck, I’m such an idiot. Baby, baby!” He strokes your cheeks with his thumb, desperately trying to bring you out of this. His arms wrap around your body, picking you up and carrying you to the house, dismissing Sam and Sarah when they try to step forward. 

He carries you to the guest room, cradling your face into his neck as he whispers sweet nothings against your hair. Bucky lies down, bringing you with him, holding you tightly against his body. “I’m so so sorry, babydoll. You are the only one I have eyes for, believe me! You are the reason I wake up in the morning, the only thing I look forward to.” His blue eyes flicker down to your face, noticing that yours are focused on his face, finally brought out of your state but staying quiet. 

Bucky strokes your bottom lip, staring at you lovingly. “I love you so much, and I will forever be sorry for what I’ve done. I should have realised that trying to make you jealous wasn’t right and was pathetic. I have such a beautiful dame on my arm, yet I felt the need to be a jerk.” His eyes fill with tears, and a sigh of relief leaves him when you roll over and cuddle into him. 

“I love you too, Bucky. But please don’t do it again.” You look up at him, pleading with your eyes as you don’t know if you’ll survive being hurt like that again. 

“Of course, doll. I’ll never do it again. You’re my doll forever and as long as you have me. I’ll continue making it up to you.” He places a soft kiss against your head, holding you tight against him as you both slowly drift off to sleep.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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[consultingskeletondetective]

Take it, it's yours

Captain Price takes your virginity, of course he's a gentleman about it. Price x female!reader.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unsafe sex, praise kink

You’d been drunk when you’d admitted it, cheeks on fire and not nearly as embarrassed as you should have been. When Captain Price asked if you were dating anyone and you told him you were scared to lose your virginity, scared that it would hurt - you wanted to do it with someone that you trusted. He’d chuckled around his cigar, reminded you you were still young - there’s plenty of time, love - and then you’d really blushed.

“Would you take it for me?” You’d asked shyly. Price had frozen, it was nearly funny, fingers on his whiskey stilling as he stared at you. “I mean, if you don’t want to, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no.” His voice was more gruff than usual, his eyes still on you. “I’ll do it.”

You were sober now, in Price’s bunk. His thick and large body was lying between your legs, covers pulled up to your shoulders, his hairy chest pressing against your tits as he nudged his cock against your entrance.

You bit your lip.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said under his breath, smiling down at you. You relaxed a little, you tried not to shake, when you felt his cockhead pressing in you and your back arched off of the bed, fists in the sheets.

“Relax, little one,” he said, stilling, “hold on to me, yeah?”

It took some coaxing, but your hands found his meaty shoulders, gripping hard as you willed your breathing to slow. “C-Captain…!”

He chuckled again warmly, “I think we’re a bit past that now, love, eh? Call me John.”

You watched him, his eyes watching you, his lips open and panting, breath smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and gunpowder. His eyes flickered before he was leaning down and kissing you gently. You moaned, his beard tickling your lips, and he took the distraction to feed a little bit more of his cock into your cunt.

You choked. “S-so big, John,” you whined, “you’re so big…”

“Fuck,” he panted, arms trembling on either side of your head, voice a low growl, “you’re so fucking tight, love. Not even, not even half of my cock in there.”

“Really?” You watched him with big eyes, “there’s more?”

His lips twitched up and he stroked your hair from your face, watching you for any signs of discomfort, as he slowly moved his hips back, and then forward. The covers rustled around the movement, and his cock shifted, not deeper, not right now, just in and out, until your slick was soaking the first few inches of his cock. The squelch was quiet, but it was there.

“Not hurting you?” He grunted as he moved.

You shook your head. “No.”

He hummed in approval, eyes losing focus as he disappeared into your tight, wet cunt in that agonisingly slow pace.

“It feel good, love?”

“It - it feels normal.” You admitted shyly.

“‘Kay, I’m gonna go a bit deeper.”

You didn’t say anything, he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world as he pressed a few more inches of his cock inside you, making you gasp, and resumed his slow, steady fuck.

You let out a stuttered breath without warning and Price smiled hugely, his laugh lines deep, as he stroked your hair again. “That’s it, love, that’s what we want.”

“John,” you choked out, hands migrating from his shoulders to his hips, toes curling in the small of his back. Your cunt was soaking, sucking him in, pleasure spiralling out from that sweet little spot inside you in a way you’d never felt before. “Feels so good, oh my god, please - please go faster.”

“You want more?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm. Not yet, love, just let yourself get used to this first, eh?”

You whined and buried your head in his neck, his constant, steady thrusts pressing up against your swelling sweet spot then leaving again. The pressure ebbed and faded and you felt like you were going mad, until it started to stay when his cock wasn’t even that deep in you, then got more intense when his crown kissed it again. You babbled helplessly, no idea what to do with your legs as you kicked uselessly against Price’s back muscles, feeling them contracting as he fucked you.

“I - I - don’t, what’s…fuck, oh my god, fuck…”

Price’s deep eyes were intense. His chest was sweating against yours, the coarse hair around his pectorals brushing against your sensitive nipples and making you buck.

“You’re going to cum, love,” he said softly, voice deep and wrecked, “don’t panic, just let it happen.”

Your eyebrows tweaked and you tried to watch his face for as long as you could before your eyes rolled back and the pleasure peaked inside your cunt, rushing through your whole body. You shook under him, cunt clenching so hard on his cock that you thought he was going to slip out of you. Price stopped moving, watching you as you came and spasmed all over his cock, leaking white down his length. It seemed to go on forever, even as your heart rate began to calm. Price cursed, and reared back a little, the covers falling around his hips and revealing more of him to you as he pulled his cock out of your heat with his hand. It looked as big as it felt, wet at the tip and down to the thick curve, then dry all the rest of the way to his balls. They were tight, and heavy, and for a mad second you thought you wanted to lick them. You also noticed, with embarrassment, that there was a string of slick connecting the tip of his cock to your pussy hole, and the sheets beneath had a nice, wet patch.

“Why did you pull out?” You asked, eyes slack, wondering if you’d done something wrong.

Price braced his large, veined hand on your knee, breathing heavily. He gave you a gentle smile. “‘Cause you were clenching on my cock so damn hard I thought you were going to milk the cum right outta me.”

You blushed, and pushed yourself up a little. “Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” You asked. “I came, now you cum too?”

He glanced up at you and there was something mischievous in those deep eyes. It was these looks that reminded you of how much older he was, and how much that turned you on.

“Uh uh, that’s not how this works, darlin’.” He took his hand off of your knee, and instead stroked his own cock, spreading your slick down to his base. “I don’t cum until you’re spent.”

“But I came?” You nearly whispered, watching his hand on his cock almost jealousy.

“Mhmm.” He growled. “And I bet you’ve got a few more in there for me.”

He laid back between your legs, tapping your pussy with his hard cock and you jolted, before he fed it back into your cunt. He was easier to take this time, you were looser, but your walls were so sensitive you gasped and bucked.

“Oh, John, please-”

He fucked you again, a little harder this time, a little faster, and the effect was immediate. You arched your back and moaned loudly, it was a miracle you didn’t wake up the rest of the squad, that pleasure from before came back but stronger, faster, building in you at an alarming rate until you were digging your nails into Price’s chest, feeling his whole body flex as he fucked you. His large hand travelled up your belly, cupping your tits and he groaned. “Fuck, baby, that’s it, choke my fucking cock, do it again.”

You came as if on command, clenching so hard on Price’s cock that he groaned and stilled, letting you spasm and shake and orgasm.

“You feel incredible, love.” He murmured, fucking you with tiny, abortive little thrusts that had you yelping.

“Look at your fucking cunt,” he said in reverence, watching your soaked labia and your entrance twitch around him. “So fucking sexy, baby, and I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”

He pressed two of his fingers around your clit, revealing the shining nub to him, his other hand rubbing over it as he continued those shallow thrusts and your eyes burst open, gripping around his wrist, mouth curving open as he stroked you damn near mercilessly. Your clit twitched under the attention.

“You’re going to cum again,” he told you gruffly, “can feel it. Let go, love, give it to me.”

You tried to answer him, but nothing came out but a moan as you felt yourself soak his cock, your thighs twitching around his thick waist.

“That’s it, fucking good girl,” he growled, still stroking your clit, except now moisture was flying everywhere. You couldn’t cope, collapsing back onto the bed and twitching helplessly.

You’d played with yourself countless times in the past but you’d never made yourself cum as intensely and as much as John Price could, the man was a god, and it must have shown on your face when he turned your chin to him to get your full attention, watching your eyes as he finally, finally sunk the full length of his cock in you, his balls slapping against your ass, and you groaned in sync.

Your feet locked against the small of his back, keeping him deep as he fucked you again, quick little thrusts that pressed him so deep and fast you knew this was what heaven felt like.

“John,” you whimpered, your whole body jerking wildly as you cupped his jaw, “you feel so good, I can’t stop.”

He didn’t look unaffected, his eyes were wild and his lips were parted, grunting with each thrust.

“M’not gonna last, love.” He finally grunted out, hips not slowing, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and under your fingertips. “You’re going to make me cum.”

“Need you to cum, John,” you begged, rolling your hips down to meet his cock. His jaw clenched then and his hips stuttered. “Want to feel it in me.”

Despite everything, he gave you a rough chuckle. “Not happening, love. I’m too old to have kids, and you’re too young.”

You pouted until you forgot all about it and you came again, squirting messily around Price’s cock and he cursed loudly, pulling out of you quickly. He stroked his cock, base to tip, just the once before he was grunting and cumming all over your stomach.

You watched his cumming cock jerking and spewing thick white ropes that burned your belly where they landed, and your cunt clenched around nothing, before your head flopped back and you struggled to breathe.

There was nothing between you but heavy breathing for a moment before Price was climbing up next to you, pulling you in tight to his sweaty, hairy chest. You could feel his heart beating like mad against your cheek.

“Now,” he still sounded breathless, “not bad for a first time, eh?”

“No,” you agreed with a shy giggle, looking up at him with big eyes. “Thank you.”

He laughed. It was a warm sound, a lovely sound. “You don’t need to thank me for having sex with you, love, I’m the one that lucked out.”

“Really?” You blushed, stroking along his scarred, muscled arms where they held you.

He hummed in response and you let your eyes close against his chest.

“You can sleep, love,” he murmured against the top of your head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?” You asked tiredly.

You just felt his fingers stroking along your back.

“Not until you send me away.”

You fell asleep after that, too warm and happy and lax to fight it, but just about remembered thinking - well, that’s not going to happen.

#fanfiction #call of duty #cod #price x reader #captain price #john price #price cod #smut #cod smut

[twola]

Your latest reblog of Arthur shaming himself in the mirror made me think of how badly I wanna jump his bones in front of one 🪞🪞

Mirror Image

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

“Ugh, you ugly bastard….”

God damnit. You’re sure he thinks you can’t hear him from the open door to the balcony, but the self-deprecating muttering he is doing under his breath reaches your ears and you sigh. Gripping the wooden railing overlooking Strawberry, your eyes flutter closed for a moment and you curse all those who came before you that made him think this way.

“No wonder they all leave you…”

“You know something I don’t?” Your voice cuts across the room, making his shoulder jolt and catching him off guard, something you’re surprised by, gunslinger that he is.

Arthur turns away from the mirror, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly, knowing he’s been caught.

You don’t let him spiral any further, crossing your arms over your chest in a huff, “Are you ending this between us?”

“What -no…sweetheart-” He sputters, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Then why are you talking like that? I ain’t leaving you.”

Arthur looks down at the floor, “You will-”

“I won’t.” You step closer, the small heel of your boots thumping on the floor as your brow sets, narrowing your eyes as you raise your voice, “Why… why do I feel like I have to constantly prove to you that I’m not going anywhere?”

“Cause you deserve better than a sour-faced idiot like me,” Arthur snaps back, realizing his tone only after the words have spilled out, seeing you wince slightly at the outburst, “Sweetheart…”

You sigh again, and let your arms down from your chest, looking at the floor for a moment before pursing your lips in frustration. After a moment, you march pointedly toward him, catching him off guard again as you press your frame against him, hands maneuvering his large body in a quarter turn so that the two of you are prominently displayed in the reflection. 

“What’re you doin’-”

Arthur audibly groans as you sink to your knees, gazing up at him as your hands move to unbutton the fly of his trousers, and then the lower buttons of his union suit as his pale skin becomes visible to you. 

“Darl- you don’t-”

You cut him off further by pulling his burgeoning cock from his pants, coaxing it to fullness as you continue to look up at him. His hands curl into fists at his side, and with a glance toward the mirror, his eyes follow yours to see the reflection of the two of you. As he breathes out heavily from his nose, you return to your ministrations, pumping him until he stands rigid and blood-filled. His gaze is locked on the mirror as you lean toward him, taking his member into the warm cavern of your mouth.

You suck at him, bobbing back and forth on his shaft as one of his hands finds its way to your head, his fingers pulsing as your tongue pressed against the head of his cock before you take him completely into the warm cavern of your mouth again.

Pulling off of him with a wet sound, you find his gaze in the mirror, slack jawed and panting, his free hand’s knuckles white at his side from trying to hold restraint.

You lean in and press your lips to the underside of his cock, making all six foot of him shiver, before standing to your full height. 

“Jesus, woman-” Arthur pants, his hand flying to his cock to stroke it, but you bat his arm away with one hand as the other wraps around his spit-slicked cock. 

“Why is it so hard for you to think you deserve good things?”

He frowns, about to open his mouth before he has to bite his lip as you catch him on a downstroke. You give his cock several more pumps before moving half a step back, pulling your blouse out from where it is tucked into your skirt. He’s unable to do anything but watch you in that mirror as you quickly disrobe - your blouse is tossed to the side. Your skirt pools at your feet. You kick your boots off somewhere behind you. You pull your chemise overhead and throw it to the floor. Your bloomers join your skirt around your ankles.

“Look at me.” You order, and his eyes snap from the mirror and back to you, lust-blown and wide with surprise. 

“You deserve to fuck me.” You state with force, grabbing one of his hands and shoving it between your legs, where moisture gathers, “You deserve to warm your cock in me and fuck me til you can’t anymore.”

He is completely flustered, only able to rub at your folds after a moment of gathering himself, breathing heavily as his other hand rubs his neglected cock.

After several moments of enjoying him touching that sensitive skin, you turn around, pressing your back against him, wiggling your hips against his pelvis for a moment before leaning forward, laying your arms upon the dresser as you gaze upon him in the mirror, your bodies side-profile in the reflection.

“Take what you deserve, Arthur.” You whisper, bent over at the waist in front of the mirror, and in an instant, he’s rushing that half a step forward as he unhooks his suspenders, his pants shoved to his knees as he guides his cock into your waiting cunt.

He slides in almost embarrassingly easily, and when you feel his hips press against your rear, he groans, holding still for a moment, his hands flying to your hips as he tries not to come simply from the rhapsody of being sheathed in your warmth.

You give him that moment to gather himself before throwing your hips back, urging him to move, and he grunts in surprise before taking the hint, quickly finding a rhythm of thrusting himself into you, staring at the two of you in that mirror, a full reflection of the carnal joining of your bodies.

“Say it.” You keen, arching your back to take him deeper still.

“Say -god- say wh-what?” He grunts out between thrusts, his hands tight around your hips as he watches his cock piston in and out of you, well glossed with your slick each time he pulls out.

“That you deserve t-this-” Your composure falls as the head of his cock hits that spot within you that makes your knees shake. 

“S-sweetheart-” Arthur grunts as he tightens his grip on your hips as you nearly stumble, whining as you grip the dresser for dear life.

“Say it, goddamnit-” you nearly yell, your mouth hanging open as you pant, one of your hands snaking between your legs and rubbing yourself above where he spears into you.

“Fuck - Jesus…” Arthur throws his gaze to the ceiling before breathing out heavily through his nose, trying to recenter himself, “I-I deserve this.”

“You deserve m-me.”

“God, darlin’. I d-deserve you.”

“You, agh- you deserve to fill me up.”

That, that, is something he is not able to articulate into words. He lurches forward, groaning loudly, his entire body crashing into yours, emptying himself into your velvet core, gasping like a damn fish out of water.

You’re bent over the dresser, panting, your nakedness covered by the six foot frame of your beloved, whose forehead rests on the curve of your neck as he comes down from his release. After a few centering moments, he grunts as he extricates himself from you, and you cannot help the whine that escapes you at the loss of his flesh. The space that he carved for himself within your body is now empty, the warm drip of his release down your inner thighs the only evidence of your joining.

“Y’gonna -” you breathe out heavily as you push yourself to stand, your knees shaking slightly as you wince, continuing to lean over the dresser, “Y’gonna stop with that bullshit now?”

Arthur doesn't respond, and as you clench your teeth to lecture him again, you catch the view of him in that mirror - he’s completely stricken, his gaze unable to be drawn from the reflection of the wet streaks of him that trail down from your inner thighs. He stands there, breath still heavy and full, pants at his knees and cock hanging as it softens.

You close your eyes and let a long breath out your nose, and figure you’ve lectured him enough for the day. Getting him to truly believe that he’s deserving of good things… it’s going to take more than just today.

His fingertips surprise you, sliding between your thighs to trace where his spend stains your skin. It’s gentle, the way he touches you, until his large hands grasp at your thighs and lifting you up and into his embrace as you yelp in surprise.

“Bed- ain’t done with y’."

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan x reader #red dead smut

[dykeknightrises]

US

A/N: I'M BACK! This is the third and final piece of the falling series, finally making it's appereace! While I'm not super happy about it (which is probably because I feel a bit weird writing dialogue and this one has much more than the last two), I feel like this is the closing I wanted for it! I truly hope you guys enjoy it!

PART 1: FALLING

PART 2: PROMISES

Having Alexia look at you like that took your breath away. Her hazel eyes looking at you like you were the only thing in the world gave you goosebumps. It wasn’t until a frown made it’s way to her forehead that you realized she was talking to you.

“I said: ‘I was hoping we could have our usual Thursday? I have a lot that I need to say to you.’” She said, before frowning ever deeper before adding, “Where are you going? It’s Thursday.”

“D-Date. I’m going on a date right now.” You replied, cursing the stuttering at the hasher tone she used on the last sentence.

“I didn’t know you were going on a date today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to inform the team captain of such personal affairs.” You snarked back.

“That’s not what I meant and know it.”

“I don’t know, Alexia. For the past few months, we’ve only spoken as teammates. I don’t think it was wrong of me assume that this is how we were now, nothing more than teammates.”

“This is not fair, Y/N. You said we were okay.” Alexia gritted, pushing past you into your apartment.

“I thought we were too! I wasn’t the one who kept cancelling every week.” You scoffed.

“But you can’t just go in date like that!” she bit back.

“Excuse me? You know what, forget about it. Just leave, captain.”

“I can’t! I can’t let you go on that date before I tell you how I feel!” The Catalonian yelled.

“The last thing I need is to hear how much you don’t care about me!” You yell back, pushing past her and leaving her alone in your apartment.

***

The blonde’s words rang in your ears as you drove late to the date. The restaurant wasn’t very far, but you chose to drive to ground yourself. The argument with the Spaniard and the quick conversation that followed made her eyes turn glassy as she blinked to try to see the traffic better.

Trying to find the teammate that Leah set you up with was a downward spiral. Not being able to locate whoever it was, Y/N could feel the stress and the frustration leak through her cracks. A hand gripping your shoulder brought you back to the moment, making you turn and face soft brown eyes.

You could feel the warmness emanating from your former teammate as she enveloped you in a tight hug. Dressed in a high waisted pants, a very nice blouse and ready to kill, Lia Walti stood smiling at you.

“Leah outdid herself this time.” The Swiss laughed with you.

“Now a lot of things are making sense.” You agreed.

Following your friend to the table the English captain reserved for you two, it was easy to lose yourself in the conversation, as you caught up. It wasn’t easy, however, to do it completely, with a very specific person occupying such a bug part of your thoughts.

“Do you want to talk about her or are you pretending she doesn’t exist?”

“The second option.” You pout back.

“Well, I know why Leah set this whole thing up but, in all fairness, I’m not ready to go all in again. With how things ended between me and her, it still stings, you know? I mean, the whole summer fling was nice, but ‘real world’ wise I’m not there yet.”

“Oh, thank God. I’d hate to ghost you after this.” You joke at her, making her roll her eyes.

“Asshole!” She laughed, throwing a balled-up napkin in your direction.

With the underlining expectation of the night becoming nothing than a hang out between friends, you two relaxed considerably and dug deeper into the mess she had been in and the one you were now.

Dropping her off in her hotel after you both agreed on telling Leah the date was great so she wouldn’t set up either of you again, at least for a while, you drove back home. Talking to Lia about Alexia was very good, as she was removed enough from the situation to have convinced that maybe the last thing you yelled to the Catalonian was unfair.

With that happy though in mind, you got ready to bed, preparing yourself for an unruly night filled with Alexia, as usual.

***

Having a flat tire on your way to the Camp Nou was most certainly not a part of your plan and only served to make a bad day even worse. First you missed you alarm after only being able to sleep as the sun started peeking from the horizon. Then, you ran out of literally everything that was your usual breakfast food for Game Day. And now, a flat tire after already being late. Yay.

Leaving the car after parking and now even glancing checking where you were, an Uber arrived only a few minutes after and dropped you off on the wrong side of the stadium. Another check for bad day.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! The alarm, then the food, then the car, the Uber…” You apologized to Jona and the rest of you team, after finally making to the Locker Room.

“Uhh, don’t worry, Chica Amante!” Lucy teased.

“Oh, how do you say that in Swiss German?’ Mapí joked.

The team quickly joined in, clearly having heard details from Lucy and Keira, who Leah unquestionably gossiped to. Rolling your eyes, you started getting ready. It didn’t scape you that the only person who didn’t join in was Alexia, who had been lacing the same boot since you walked in.

“Ohh, Y/N, you can be late for game after a deliberate session of Seven Minutes in Heaven in the closest empty room!” Someone joked.

“Bonus if you don’t need all the minutes!” It was added.

As the girls kept poking fun, you could see Alexia get more and more tense, until she finally got up rather abruptly, mumbling something about needing more tape. As she closed the locker room door behind her, the glassiness in her eyes made the decision you had been struggling since the day before much easier.

After not finding the older woman in the most obvious spots, Y/N went to their spot, the little Video room for any last-minute adjustments. Alexia was sitting in the first row, right in front of the projector, as if she was waiting to watch a game tape.

The blonde had her head down, on her hands, shoulder shaking, and sobs barely muffled by her hands. Choking down her own sobs at how hurt Alexia was, Y/N made her was quickly through the room, sitting next to the Spaniard, pulling her into a hug.

“Shh… First, we get thought this, then we talk.” You whisper, cutting her protests.

With her safely tucked in your arms, you two stayed like until she was ready. Holding her for what felt like forever, Y/N felt more in peace than she had felt in the past months.

A small part of her brain kept reminding her that this was one of the most important game of their careers, but Alexia was far more important. It was almost a full hour before the Spaniard was ready, slowly untucking herself for the safe spot that hid her from the world. It was several minutes later before she even managed to look in your direction. It was even longer before she spoke.

“I’m sorry.” The blonde broke the silence, with her voice trembling and oh-so-quietly that Y/N had to strain her ears to hear it properly.

“Alexia…”

“No, I’m sorry. For everything, really. You deserve so much more than what I’ve done to you.” She whispered, before adding with a broken voice. “I-I hope the date yesterday went well.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m stupid.”

“Alexia.”

“I was scared. After Jenni, I was completely broken. Then I let myself open up and she broken me too. Hell, a part of me was still broken when you came along. In the beginning of the year, I promised myself that right now I just needed to focus in getting better, so I closed myself for any shred that could lead into something more. But then you came and made me yours without me even realizing. When I did, I got terrified. I-I was certain that you would break me too, but I couldn’t take it. Not from you.” She cried softly.

“So, you took a step back before I could do anything?”

“Yeah. I thought that if you didn’t know you couldn’t break me too.”

“Ale…”

“No, it’s okay. I can get over it, is not even your fault that I completely fucked everything up.”

“Well, I really hope you don’t. I spent almost the entire “date” yesterday talking to Lia about you, about how much I love you.” You said, caressing her jaw, getting yourself lost on her honey gaze.

“Oh…” She gasped. “But..”

“Well, we agreed on telling everyone it went well because we were not interested in doing that again, but with a stranger. Neither one of us were ready to move on.” You chuckled.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

You nodded, leaning forward, and meeting her lips. In that moment, everything was right again. Hearing her breath get caught up, her hands caressing your waist, the warmness of her skin. Everything was Alexia. You were undoubtedly hers.

Getting lost on her was far too easy. It always was. It took you every ounce of self-awareness too pull back, only to be allowed after a shred of pecks and nips. Eyes closed, breathing the same puffs of air being expelled from your heavy breathing, you felt like you were dreaming again. Too afraid to open your eyes and wake up, you remain basking in her.

“Can I have another chance? I need to make it right, to be yours and make you mine forever.” Alexia asked, hazel eyes looking through heavy hoods, as if you’re the only thing in the world.

“I don’t know if I trust you.” You whisper, feeling you vision blur though unshed tears.

“That’s okay. I want to earn it back, it’s the most important thing for me. I want your permission to work for it, but if you don’t want it, I swear to leave you alone.”

“Don’t you dare doing that.” You tell her, kissing her cheek.

You two stay there for a few more minutes before getting up, finding you way back to a very panicked locker room. Turns out that vanishing for over an hour right before a match made everyone very worried.

Making up with Alexia was easily the peak of the day but beating Lyon and kicking them out of the Champions League in a packed Camp Nou, after losing to them on the away game, with you two having the game of your lives surely made its way as a second peak of what started out as a bad day.

The next few months were spent with you two thick as thieves once more, the team back on the comfortable routine. It was the next year’s pre-season when you gave her the green flag that you trusted her, and it was exactly a few after she gave you a bar of you favourite chocolate that she asked you to be her girlfriend. It was also then that she told you that she bought all the chocolate of her favourite store.

The Sun made you feel warm, loved, cared, cozy, at home, yourself and so many more things that you weren’t quite sure that could be described as feelings. But right now, buried under and completely surrounded by everything her on their home, Y/N would vow on whatever entity that existed that Alexia the Sun itself.

#woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics

[biniminisblog]

easy | lee minho oneshot

pairing: lee minho x reader

prompt: “did i do something? why are you suddenly acting so distant?” “just… because.” link to post here

genre: angst, fluff at the end, nonidol!au, kinda grumpy x sunshine, friends to lovers

word count: 1.6k

a/n: …idk what i wrote lmao. this is what happens when im in my missing minho hours. anw as always if you liked it pls reblog, comment, or send an ask and share your thoughts and feedback! also thank you to @dumplingsjinson for the prompt that inspired me to write this!

minho hates you. he hates you for making him fall in love with you. this wasn’t supposed to happen. this was all your fault. yes, your stupid smile and your stupid laugh and the way your eyes twinkle every time you look at him is the reason why he’s currently spiralling from his emotions.

despite his aloof attitude towards you, there was never a day where you failed to annoy him, even in the slightest. before, it was easy to just brush you off every time you try to get his attention. so easy to ignore the members whenever they talk about you. everything was easy back then. why couldn’t you just take the hint?

when you greet him enthusiastically so early in the morning, which he would usually just roll his eyes at, now makes his heart beat faster than it should have. and unlike before, his attention would instantly be diverted to the person who so much as just mentions your name.

he’s actually starting to think he likes spending more time with you, and not just as friends anymore. which is why he stopped hanging out with you. so when you suddenly appear before him outside of his apartment at eight pm on a friday, he knew he was fucked.

“hey…” you greeted him, and minho notices you slightly shiver from the cold. he gently grabs your arm and pulls you inside so you both don’t suffer from the harsh weather. after he closes the door, he turns to see that you were already sitting comfortably on his couch. another reason why he hates you is because of all the fond memories you both shared on that same damn couch. movie nights and cuddling were only some of the things he despised, recalling those memories where his heart fluttered the most.

“so, uhm, it’s been a while huh?” you lightly chuckle, but it was different to the usual joyful tone it had. now it seem more dejected. “you haven't been answering my calls lately, is there something wrong?”

he didn’t know how to answer that because yes something was wrong, but not in the way you think. he just settled with a simple shake of his head and plops down on the couch next to the one you were sitting on. it was hard not to notice the amount of space between the two of you, however the both of you don’t mention it.

“don’t worry about it, i was just busy so i couldn’t answer your calls.” to further prove his claim, he points to the copious amounts of paperwork stacked on top of each other on the coffee table. it was true that he was busy with work, but he always made time for you despite that. though he didn’t know that his feelings for you would be deeper than just a friend he would occasionally be annoyed at.

“minho, i’m not stupid. i know you’re ignoring me.” of course you’d catch on immediately, it was you after all.

“well if you knew that, then why are you here?” minho’s words come out a lot meaner than he expected, and he immediately regrets it once he sees the look of hurt flash in your eyes.

“sorry, it’s just that a lot has been going on lately and i—”

“did I do something? why are you suddenly acting so distant?” you cut him off, feeling frustrated at your friend’s lack of communication. you start to stand up from the couch to get closer to him, but minho was two steps ahead as he gets up first and heads to his kitchen. you follow him there and see that he took out a glass and poured himself some water to drink. you’re not sure why, but you think it’s just to prolong him from answering your question.

“minho please, i miss you! i miss hanging out with my friend, don’t you miss me too?” you plead, and minho’s facade breaks. his eyes soften and he puts the glass down so could walk closer to you. he stops right in front of you and moves his hand to caress your hair. you lean in to his touch, already missing the way his fingers would comb your hair soothingly. minho just smiles at your reaction before pulling away slowly.

“of course i miss you yn,”

“everything was fine so why are you doing this? why are you avoiding me?” yes, everything was fine and easy until you decided to mess with his heart. but you didn’t know that.

“just… because.” you scoff at his explanation, resisting the urge to smack him for not giving you a clear answer.

“because what minho? am i too annoying for you? do i talk too loudly? what is it minho!? i can’t take this any more, i thought we were friends—”

“and that’s exactly why!” you stop, and minho takes this as an opportunity to finally let it out.

“the reason why i stopped hanging out with you is because i don’t want to be friends anymore! don’t you see yn? i like you! hell, i’m in love with you! but i don’t want to be because i know you don't feel the same way. i mean, why would you? all i do is just say mean things to you.” minho breathes out a sigh and watches as you take in all the words he just said. however, he was too scared of your rejection, so he moved past you and headed towards the living room. you were still too stunned to move so you stay rooted in the kitchen.

“please just forget everything i just told you and i promise i won't ignore you anymore.” minho almost raps as he maneuvers his way towards the coffee table and he distracts himself by arranging his paperwork. some part of him wants you to just accept that and go home, but the other, more hopeful side, wishes for you not to forget and return his feelings too.

when you arrive at the living room, you see minho crouched down beside the coffee table. you quickly grab his arm, startling him from the sudden contact. you pull him up and give him time to regain his balance before giving your side.

“what if i don’t wanna forget?” minho only looks confused, so you elaborate further. “what if i don’t wanna forget that you like me? what if i like you too, have you ever considered that?”

you almost laugh at the comedic look on minho’s face as his eyes suddenly widen in shock. you don’t, instead you grab his chin and pull him down towards you. your lips touched and it was still for a moment before he finally kissed you back. only then do you both pull away from lack of oxygen. your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer and you rest your forehead against each other’s.

“so… does this mean we’re dating now?”

“do friends go around kissing each other like that?” you quirk an eyebrow and minho shakes his head at your sarcasm. it seems like he’s finally rubbing off on you.

“no they don’t.”

“good, ‘cause i don’t want you kissing your friends like that.” you both laugh and minho lifts you off the ground to spin you around, causing you to squeal in surprise.

“for the record, i don’t want you kissing your friends like that either.” after putting you down, minho gives you his signature smirk before kissing you once more and wrapping you up in a hug.

“and to answer your question, i’m in love with you too. so yes, we are dating.” you can’t stop grinning as minho continues to hug you, but he abruptly pulls away, causing you to look at him with confusion written in your features. he suddenly seems anxious, but he collects himself and takes a deep breath before talking.

“i’m just going to have to warn you that i may not be the best boyfriend in the world. i get moody a lot and say a lot of sarcastic things that may come off as rude. there are also times where i—“ he stops rambling after he hears laughter coming from you. he gives you a look that resembles an offended cat and you all but acknowledge it as you wipe away the tear that came out of your eye.

you cradle minho’s face with both of your hands, and he looks at you with such pureness in his big eyes that you can’t help but fall in love with him more.

“minho, i already know that you are all of those things, yet i still stuck around because i love you despite all of that, and i will continue to do so until you run out of snarky things to say,” you tease, and it gets a small smile from him.

“you’re right. if you were tired of me, you would’ve already dropped me while we were still friends.” minho jokes and you hum in response, giving him a peck to his cheek. you intertwine your fingers with his and with your other hand, run your fingers through his hair. “yes now stop worrying about that, you still owe me all the movie nights we missed because you’re an idiot.”

minho only replies with a laugh, silently agreeing that he is indeed an idiot. it surprises him how easily you break him free of his worries. and that despite everything that just happened, you still manage to crack his walls. but he guesses that’s how love works, it makes everything so much easier.

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee minho oneshot #skz minho #stray kids minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee minho fluff #lee minho angst #minho x reader #skz x you #skz imagines #stray kids fic #stray kids one shot #lee minho one shot #stray kids scenarios #lee know x you #lee minho x you

[vase-of-lilies]

Late for Dinner

❀ Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Reader (F)

❀ Warnings: Fluff, basically just a cuddle/make out session, kissing, (in)appropriate touching, cuddling, handsy Wanda! Rain, thunder, traffic, worried!reader, and slight nudity (boobiessss)

❀ A/N: This is a little (super short I know) fic to take a break from all the darkness I have been posting haha! I hope you enjoy it! I also wrote this on my phone, so mistakes are bound to appear!

Wanda was never late when it came to dinner. She was always early and eager to help with anything. So when she didn’t show up tonight, your worries had gotten ahold of you, and you started to spiral.

You called her, texted her, Pietro, Natasha, really anyone who would have seen her last. But they didn’t know either. Your anxieties worsened as you heard the thunder clap outside, and you hurried to the balcony. You were met with rain.

You sighed as you hurried back inside, shutting the windows for the night. Giving one last call to Wanda, you hoped that she was alright.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Wanda bursts through the front door. She has her yellow rain coat and matching galoshes on, and you can’t help but smile at her disheveled look.

You rush to her, helping her put her things down and scolding her in the process. “I called you six (6) times! I texted you, I sent you Instagram messages, I even texted Pietro and Nat. They said they hadn’t seen you!”

Wanda could hear the worry in your voice, and see the tears start to pool in your eyes. “Dekta… there was a lot of traffic, my phone died, and Tony kept me longer than he needed to. I should have called from the office, but I had to rush home in time for dinner. I’m so sorry, love.” She says, taking off her coat and pulling you into her arms.

She kisses your forehead, and you smile as she moves down to your nose and finally to your lips. It feels good to be in her arms again, even though you live together.

“Dinner was getting cold, a-and I was so worried about you…” Looking up at her she nods softly.

“I understand, that’s why I stopped at the market really quickly to pick up [your favorite dessert]. I knew I’d be late, so here is how I’m making it up to you.” She holds up the box, and you can’t help but giggle.

“You know I can’t say no to this… but there is one more thing I want!”

Wanda smiles and hangs up her coat. “Oh? And what is that?”

Once she has her boots off, you pull her to the couch and you straddle her hips. “I just want you,” you whisper, kissing her lips while you wrap your arms around her neck. Her hands rest on your hips, but soon her arms wrap around your torso, pulling you against her chest.

She gently rolls you over, your back now against the cushions, your lover on top of you. Her kisses become deeper, and her hand sneaks under your shirt. You smile as you close your eyes, her hand cupping your breast.

“I missed you, sweetheart. I promise I won’t be late tomorrow.” She says, kissing your lips again.

“I trust you, love.” You whisper back, your hand on top of hers. With ease, she helps you slide your shirt off, and you pull hers off as well. The two of you, topless, are happily cuddled together, now side by side. Your head rests on her chest, and her arms hold you close.

“I love you my sweet girl…” she whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead as you doze off to sleep.

#Wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #Wanda x Female reader #Wanda Maximoff fluttersmut #Wanda fluff #Wanda soft smut

[theblack3stday]

PAGES OF LOVE — remus lupin

Pairing: Remus Lupin x female!reader

Summary: You are trying to get Remus’ attention while he’s trying to read

Word count: 873

Warnings: no warnings, just fluff, fluff and fluff (enjoy it)

In the cozy dimness of the room, you found comfort nestled in Remus' lap. His mousey-brown hair was a soft contrast to your fingers gently weaving through it, creating a soothing rhythm. The room was filled with the hushed rustle of pages as Remus immersed himself in his book, the two of you sharing a quiet moment, wrapped in the warmth of your connection. With a smile, Remus looks up to see you with his brown eyes. He brushes his finger across your cheek, caressing your face. You feel warm and safe in his arms as he returns his attention back to his book. He continues reading while you nestle into his chest, breathing in the scents of his cologne and musk. You savor each moment of closeness, feeling relaxed and cared for by your boyfriend, but you want Remus' all attention, but he seems too deep in his book. You try to make eye-contact with him, but he just stays focused on his novel. You try to get his attention with small gestures. But he doesn't take the bait. Your efforts seem to be completely in vain and Remus is still absorbed in his book until you grabbed his book. Remus' hand brushes against your shoulder and moves down the small of your back, caressing it gently. He pulls you closer to him, his warm arms enveloping you in a loving embrace. His smile widens, as if he can't contain his joy from seeing you so close to him again.

"Someone needs attention, huh?" he says with a giggle, before reaching up to kiss you on the lips. He caresses your cheek, his warm hand brushing against your soft skin.

"Well, I know I’m not a book, but I need you too." you said softly. He pulled you back into his arms as he rests his head on yours.

"You're right, I can't help myself," Remus chuckles softly. He kissed you gently on the lips, his warm breath filling your head with his scent. You feel his heart beating in his chest, his arms wrap you tightly around your own body. You feel the warmth of his touch as if you're a part of him. His warmth surrounds you and he leans in for a deeper kiss. His hands brush against the back of your neck, stirring up a shiver of arousal within you. “I will make it up to you, sweetheart.”

Remus' breath hits your neck as the kisses grow more intense. His hands roam freely across your body, searching for places that ignite your desires for him. Everything seems to be perfect in that moment, a warm embrace of your bodies as two souls yearning for love and affection.

As his kisses grow even deeper, you feel his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. It stirs up a rush of passion that spreads like wildfire, an indescribable pleasure that drives you into an ever-growing spiral of desire for more. Remus' touch becomes more passionate and relentless, caressing your body like it's the only thing that matters in the world. You feel the heat between your bodies rising, the two of you intertwined in a dance of tenderness and devotion. His kisses are soft and gentle at first, before growing stronger and harder with each passing moment. You feel his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands roaming freely across your body, seeking out new ways to bring you pleasure. The pleasure builds and builds, driving you toward an elusive climax that feels out of reach. Your bodies are pressed tightly together, skin upon skin, your limbs intertwined with his. The heat between you rises higher and higher, a wave of pleasure pulsing through your veins. Remus' hands caress your body, traveling up and down your body with a gentle touch as if to savor each moment. You feel his fingers teasing your skin, exploring every single inch of your body. The pressure builds up, the warmth becoming nearly unbearable, a delicious torment that threatens to push you over the edge.

Remus pulls away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. You feel the heat and passion slowly begin to subside as the two of you remain locked in a passionate embrace, your eyes staring deeply into his as the breathless intensity begins to taper off.

"You already made it up to me," you say softly, smiling at him. The intimacy between the two of you is palpable, the warmth and passion of the moment still lingering in the air. Remus kisses your shoulder, softly scratching his nails into your skin. Every inch of your body reacts to his touch, sending a shiver of arousal through you. The two of you lay entwined in a nest of passion and affection, lost in the feelings of warmth and tenderness.

“I love you, sweetie.” he whispered to you, pulling you closer for one last kiss. You feel the heat between your bodies rise one last time as Remus kisses you deeply before finally letting you go. The two of you lie in each other's arms, exhausted from the passionate evening. You feel safe and content in Remus' arms, the warmth of his body wrapping you in a soothing embrace.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders era #the marauders #fluff #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #moony #padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #marauders #marauders map #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #harry potter #hogwarts au #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #wizarding world

[pandorainmymind]

give it

neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

smut

!!! NETEYAM AND READER ARE AGED UP !!!

word count: 3.7k

tag list: @gurlypopsstuff

“i’m always the one looking after you!” neteyam raises his voice, then pauses to let out the biggest and most sarcastic sigh, “you could at least make it a little easier” his brows furrowing together and his mouth slightly turning into a snarl

stopping in your tracks, your ears perk up as you take notice in the sully brothers. looking around, you try to see if any of the others of the metkayinan clan are noticing the rising argument between these two by the shore. but the sound of water splashing rips you away from the outside world and back into the one full of resentment.. that the two brothers are currently in.

pushing each other deeper into the ocean, the younger hisses in anger. “nobody understands me!” lo’ak raises his voice right back at his brother, shoving his chest. egging him on to throw the first punch. but a wave of worry washes upon yourself and you don’t realize you’re sprinting towards the boys until you’re between them, waist deep into the sea with tears running down your vibrant blue cheeks.

“stop it!” you cry out, placing your hands on either one of the boys’ chests.

lo’ak scoffs and backs up from your touch, leaving the argument with a blazing anger. you couldn’t help but feel a part of your heart fall slightly. you didn’t want to become between the sully family.

that was the last thing you wanted.

after all they’ve done for you in the past years (all the way back to your childhood), practically welcoming you into their family. leaving the omaticaya and coming to the metkayinan clan in ‘escape’ with them - it made you constantly worry about your advantage into the family.. worrying whether you could actually help them instead of just getting in the way.

“y/n” neteyam says, trying to let go of his temper - he was in a worried manner, and it made you let go of your spiraling thoughts. realizing your hand still presses against his toned chest. widening your eyes in shock, trying not to drop your gaze down his abdomen. quickly you pull your hand away to wipe your tears from your cheeks, not fully recollecting that you’re crying - you take a step back from the taller male and go deeper into the water to space yourself from him. “i’m sorry - i didn’t m-“ you sputter out in apology before neteyam interrupts.

“stop”

his low voice makes you involuntarily swallow hard, and look down into the clear ocean. feeling yourself becoming warm with embarrassment. the feeling of his hard body still burning in your head.

“why are you apologizing?” he asks you, tilting his head to the side slightly. making his dark braided hair flail in movement too. looking into your eyes he tries to make you feel better, but inevitably he just makes you feel more embarrassed. “i don’t know neteyam.. i’m just gonna g-“ you say in a quiet tone, your voice cracking just barely from the wave of emotion that washed over you. and as you begin to turn and swim away mid sentence, neteyam grabs your upper arm.

his hold is strong, yet it brings a sense of security. the skin contact makes you feel warm, and you part your lips slightly in surprise. neteyam never held you like this before, keeping you from running away from him like you usually do. it caught you off guard. “why are you always trying to leave?” he questions you, a pleading look in his round bright eyes. it causes your heart to quicken, and you feel trapped.

this na’vi you’ve known since childhood that’s been only kind to you making you feel flustered once again.

“hurry up slow poke!” neteyam hollers back over his shoulder, to you doing your best at following behind him - running through the jungle thicket to his ‘special’ place.

he’s never taken you there before (only in your imagination he took you with him, when you’d listen to the stories he’d tell you about it all before) and when he asked you to come with him, it was like the greatest feeling you’ve felt in your young life

“you’re faster than me neteyam slow down!” you whine out, ducking under the forest layers of different flora. it’s bioluminescence showing itself with the graze of your body, informing you that eclipse is beginning.

running forward, through all the sheltered pathways that neteyam just passed through, you finally enter a clearing and gasp for breath. ears perking up in wonder.

the beauty arraying itself all over. the spacious area underlined by the soft mossy overgrown forest floor was surrounded by the lush canopy that the forest region of pandora adorned. the sounds of distant chattering of prolemuris and buzzing of other life surrounding you.

you close your eyes and take a deep breath in, silently thanking the mother eywa for all the beauty and power she dwells and gives

after some time you spend reminiscing about the scenery, you begin to wonder where neteyam had gone.

then dark thoughts begin to quickly cloud your once happy and calm mindset, as you feel your heart rate rise and panic start to set in.

“neteyam!!” you call out, your ears turning - trying to hear any sound of help, trying not to tear up in the process. mentally cursing at yourself for being such a crybaby.

frantically looking around the open forestry, while doing so you reach behind you and grab your braid, pulling it over your shoulder to hold onto for comfort. (something you’ve often found yourself of doing)

anxiety built up in your stomach and as you were about ready to run back to the hometree and alert toruk makto, two hands squeeze your sides.

“AH!” flipping around and shouting, absentmindedly flailing your lanky arms in fright, you whack neteyam straight across the face. “ow!” he groans, pulling his hands from your waist to cup his cheek. “what was that for?”

feeling safety flood back into your body in finally seeing him, you throw your arms around his neck and hold onto his body for dear life. “neteyam!!” you shriek with a sigh of relief. “you’re okay!!”

“of course i am y/n” his heart warms - as well as his cheeks, feeling you hug him for the first time since you became friends. “except i think my face might be badly damaged” he laces with sarcasm.

lifting up your face from being squished against his collarbone, you look at the purple hue blush across his face - causing you to replicate his appearance exactly. “oh shut up”

you giggle shyly and let go of his neck. your ears going back in embarrassment. hearing his sweet chuckle from watching you makes you speak up again. this time softly. “i’m sorry ‘teyam”

“don’t be sorry!” he laughs out and assures you with a sweet cup of your cheeks in his palms. “i was playing with you” smiling at you, neteyam’s touch causes an extra feeling to brew in your heart.

“now lemme show you this-“

- it wasn't his fault that you distanced yourself from him. yet he sure felt that way.

you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings - and having to deal with them for so long now. it’s been years since you and neteyam had first met. both growing up together.

and with not knowing how to handle certain emotions that you’ve felt for him and around him, all throughout those past years (and currently) - you sought isolation.

well, isolation with kiri most of the time.

kiri really inspired you to take life in the moment, but trying to not let things bother you or get too caught up in your own feelings and it wasn't as easy as she made it look. -

“i’m sorry ‘teyam” you say softly, looking into his eyes with sincerity. succumbed to his hold on your arm, a flash of warmth embodies neteyams gaze and you stop resisting. letting him guide you through the water closer to him, flashbacks of your younger years back in the jungle with him make your heart flutter. there was no need to run from him anymore.

“‘teyam?” he says happily with a growing smirk, “you haven’t called me that since we were young” a couple small braids fall in front of his face as he lowers his head down towards you. he was only a year older than you, yet he towered over your average na’vi frame. you were submerged up to the bottom of your chest covering. the woven beads and shells just barely floating atop of the water.

neteyam takes notice of how your top shifts with the slight current, giving him a peak of your breasts. once he realizes he’s been staring down at your body for too long he clears his throat and let’s go of your upper arm and drops both hands down into the sea and softly grabs ahold of your waist. slowly, watching your facial expressions to see if he needed to stop. but to his and your delight, you bit your lip and gave a small giggle, smiling like a fool. making something in his lower abdomen heat up and flux

his three long fingers and thumb gently begin to caress your hips. and your breath hitches. your already big yellow eyes widening more in shock. such a foreign feeling to feel from him, yet it didn’t feel wrong.

“i miss you” you whisper. catching neteyam off guard this time, as his eyebrows raise and his teeth bare in a surprised smile. his heart skipping a beat, he finally pulls you flush against him. and as neteyam lets out sort of a quiet strangled groan, his eyes cloud over and his chest heaves for a big breath of air. the past anger he was feeling for lo’ak now quickly taken over by the growing lust he’s felt for you for years now

“y/n..” neteyam sighs, gliding his hands from your pelvis up to your back slowly. “i am here”

you didn’t even have to explain yourself to him, for he already knew what you meant. the unspoken bond between the two of you was stronger than you really remembered.

he made you feel like your stomach was floating, a feeling different from the one you have when riding the sky with your ikran. being pressed into his hard body, you wrap your arms around his strong shoulders, nuzzling your face in the crook of his long neck. your warm breath fanning across one side of his chest, making his mouth suddenly become dry - his tail slightly whipping in the water with a feverish manner.

“neteyam!!” kiri shouts from the beach “dad wants to talk with you!!” - interrupting whatever was about to happen. causing you to gasp and separate yourself from him.

he doesn’t take your actions as hurtful, neteyam felt shy being ‘caught’ by kiri too - but inevitably he prayed to mother eywa that she doesn’t notice the growing erection from underneath his loincloth. to which goes unnoticed by you, in your flustered state avoiding his gaze as he treads toward shore - shyly smiling at kiri who has a playful smile across her face.

you tried pushing back the thoughts about earlier. how neteyam held you close to him, touching your body oh so delicately. you still imagine the caressing of his hands still working at your waist and hips as you close your eyes. feeling the sun fade behind the moon, beginning eclipse.

“there you are!” kiri hollers over to you, making her way through the beaches trees. “i have been looking all over for you!” her face coming clearer into view as she runs up next to you. the bioluminescent speckles across her face now glowing with beauty.

“what are you doing?” she says, eying you up and down. seeing your tail swipe in a manner she’s not sure of.

sighing out you smile at her presence and then your turn to face the bunch of large leaves you’ve gathered for food preparation. “just taking care of things before eclipse came” you speak, your ears twitching. your mind not clearing itself of the thoughts of neteyam on your body.

“okay..” she voices out, walking over to pick up the bundle of huge leaves stacked neatly on the sand. “well, i just wanted to tell you that i think you and neteyam are really sweet-“ and you immediately babble out and blush. “w-what?” you say in shock.

kiri laughs, standing up from her crouched state with leaves in her long blue arms. she gives you a teasing smile, “really? y/n i’m not stupid” she laughs out seeing your face flush, then leaning into your side - kiri whispers “he’s got the hots for you”

you gasp and bring your hand up to your mouth, your three fingers against your lips. she pulls away with a smirk and a raise of her brows. and lets out a laugh.

but both of you are pulled away from each others full attention when you hear someone’s footsteps in the sand. and none other than the one you’re talking about comes into view and you gulp. your stomach flipping with hidden excitement. eyes widening and looking at kiri with anxiety. all she does is smile at you and nod, mouthing “don’t be worried”

taking her advice you do your best in calming down. watching him walk up with his swagger, hair whipping side to side .. and oh how you love it.

“hey” he greets, his voice low and welcoming. kiri takes a step away from you, and greets her brother with a knowing look and smile.

“i’ll be going now” she says once neteyam reaches both of your proximities, his glowing spotted face towards yours, his eyes flickering down at your body for a split second. to which you catch.

smiling up at him, you turn to kiri and see her give you a wink and run off - towards the village

placing a hand on your lower back, neteyam tugs you in once again, causing you to let out a surprised sigh. “i just want to say i miss you too” his low voice rolls out. and you look into his alluring eyes, involuntarily licking your lips in the process. trying not to smile with giddy. bringing up one of your hands to put in the middle of his chest, feeling his breath catch. “i-“ he starts but pauses, his face contorts and he tries to think of the right way to say what he was thinking.

“‘teyam” you say, lowering your hand down his body. “what is it?”

your touch causes him to part his lips and flutter his eyes close, feeling his heartbeat in his ears. you were driving him crazy and you had no clue. and seeing him slightly shudder from your actions, you blush and whip your tail.

the hand neteyam has on your back lowers down to the base of your tail and you hold your breath. his other hand coming up to your shoulders. “you’re beautiful” he rasps out finally. pulling you fully against him again, but this time you let out a small noise. feeling his hardening member underneath his covering. grabbing his upper arm, and taking your other hand from his abdomen up to his clavicle.

“a-ah” you stutter, being pressed on him making your brain go fuzzy. and neteyam can’t help but bite his lip seeing you slowly lose it before him.

“baby,” he speaks up again, the nickname for you immediately melting your heart, “i mean it.”

feeling you on his body, his hand goes from your tail down further to your leg, pushing it in between his. your thigh grazing along his erection, which erupts a low hiss to rumble in his chest. the sound makes you embarrassingly aroused. “i-“ you begin to speak, feeling neteyam guide your hips along his large lean yet muscular thigh. making you let out a small moan. the friction against your pussy causing your knees to become weak from your usual strength. and your covering becomes uncomfortable with all the arousal pooling.

“can i kiss you?” he interrupts, practically spitting it out in desperation - his eyes pleading into yours. slightly bucking his hips feeling your wetness spread along his bare leg. your thigh grinding against his cock. “fuck” he groans out, trying to hold himself back.

you moan out again in surprise and excitement, feeling his cock throb against your body. his breath staggering, the both of you in a dazed state just from pure lust for one another. a sort of unspoken lust.

“please” you whine out, throwing your arms around his neck. and neteyam dives down to catch your mouth with his immediately, not being one to wait any longer. lips pressed and dancing with one another. the two of you swallow each other's moans, the kiss you’ve waited ages for, finally happening, and making you fall even more in love with your childhood friend.

frantically tugging at your covering, neteyam manages to take off your loincloth that’s inevitably soaked. dropping it on the sand. his hands squeezing your ass, caressing the flesh with a fever.

pulling away from his mouth, you both take in a deep breath of air. both of your hearts pumping incredibly fast, looking into his eyes you lick your lips and trail your sight down his body. finally looking at his erection. making you swallow down hard.

neteyam watches as you blush from looking at his body, and it made his need for you only heighten. you were all he wanted, for as long as he could remember. and now here you were, taking off his bottoms with shaky hands.

the light from the huge moon displaying your bodies in a beautiful hue.

gasping out in sight of his unclothed body, neteyam chuckles out. “y/n, is this okay?”

lifting your head and meeting eyes again, you nod and shyly smile. “y-yes neteyam.” hearing his name come from your mouth always made him feel closer to you, but now you saying it made something else come over him. untying your top piece in a hurry, neteyam throws it towards your other clothing on the sand and you stand there fully bare in front of him. “i love you” he blurts out, being in shock from the beauty of your body. and it made fluttering appear in your stomach.

grabbing his hand, and intertwining your fingers together, you lead him over to a near tree and back him up against it. looking into his eyes, you smile and kiss his lips in a quick peck. “i love you too”

your mannerisms you use on him work in making him desire you even more. dropping his hand from yours, he traces his fingers down your navel and to your intimate region. cause you to suck in a breath. his touch sending pleasurable shocks into your stomach as he dips a long finger into your heat. “mmmh” you moan out, eyes falling shut.

pumping another digit into your pussy, neteyam watches how your body reacts to him with a smirk and when he knows you’re ready he adds his third finger. and you grip his wrist in euphoria.

“‘teyam” you mewl out, opening your eyes. “don’t stop” pleading out you feel your high begin to build quickly. as you clench around his fingers, neteyam growls and pulls out of your entrance. leaving you whining out. “why-“ you begin to question, but quickly he pulls your face in and kisses you hard. full of passion, as he drops the hand that was just inside your heat to his cock. pumping himself, he moans. and bites your bottom lip. his fangs nicking just slightly causing a small droplet of blood to mix in with your mouths.

“ngh!” you cry in pleasure.

and in the heat of the moment, neteyam drops his hand from your face and lifts your body up - turning himself to rest your back against the tree instead of his. then pulling off your lips, his eyes you down, “is this okay?” he asks again, making sure you want this as bad as he does. you bite your bottom lip where he just did and smile. “yes… my neteyam”

with you giving your consent, he aligns his cock with your entrance and eases himself in. dropping his head into the crook of your neck he moans out lowly, his breath fanning across your skin. the painful yet pleasurable feeling erupts in your body, and you grip his shoulders hard with a lewd cry.

thrusting into your pussy, his hips speed up as he hears your sounds. pressing kisses across your neck and collarbone, neteyam grunts out, his cock throbbing inside your warm walls. “you’re mine” he hisses out, drawing his free hand to your clit and fondling you with expertise.

his sensations cause you to clench around his dick hard, and pant out. “i'm yours neteyam” you say with a sigh, bucking your hips down with his. feeling him reach inside you deep. the knot in your stomach close to snapping. you reach up a hand to his jaw and lift up his head to face yours. “im so close”

groaning out, neteyam circles your clit faster and thrusts his hips at an angle - hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. his own climax coming close. “baby, you’re doing so good” he grunts out, barely able to finish his sentence after you roll your eyes back and go limp in his arms - shaking out of control as your orgasm washes over you.

“neteyam!!” you moan out in ecstasy, clenching around him in flutters - he too loses control and moans out in reach of his climax. “fuck” he drops his head and bites your shoulder as he comes deep inside your heat, hips bucking with no rhythm as he rides out both of your highs.

humming out in pleasure as you feel him emptying his load within you, the light sting of his bite across your shoulder only adding to the intense moment of euphoria between you two.

“i love you neteyam, i always have” you confess in a whisper, as his hips thrust to a stop. kissing the mark he left on your shoulder, he looks up into your eyes, in pure love. the eclipses effect to both of your bodies' bioluminescent dots, glowing in each of your eyes.

his smile is genuine, his fangs showing in the wide and beautiful stretch of his lips.

“and i have always loved you, y/n”

#avatar smut #neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar blue people #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #the way of water

[lace-coffin]

How do you think Asa would deal with somebody having and anxiety attack? Maybe someone who is in his collection having a panic attack because they're scared that he might get bored or tired of them and get rid of them.

Sorry if this is an awkward subject to write about. If it makes you uncomfy or anything please feel free to ignore. Hope you have a good day/night 😊❤️

How would Asa Emory comfort reader when they’re having a panic attack?

Asa Emory x gn!Reader

Requests are open!

Tw for slight self harm (skin picking)

Thank you so much for this! Keep the asa requests coming because I cannot physically be normal about this man and love writing for him 💖 I appreciate you asking if I’m comfy writing it to! Super sweet!

It all happens so quickly, you’re minding your business, doodling on a notepad in your room at the hotel. Asa bid you goodbye with a kiss on the forehead and a reminder to be good a few hours ago and you’re keeping yourself occupied until his return. You kind of wish you could go with him but you quickly remeber what goes on in the lower sections of the hotel you’re kept away from and decide it’s probably best you don’t. You’ve been there once before and that was enough to satisfy your curiosity for life.

The day continues on like this, keeping yourself entertained and flickering your eyes over the to clock every so often. Eventually it hits 8pm, usually Asa is back around this time, give or take fifteen minutes. Noticing this you scramble to sit pretty on your knees next to the door, waiting for him to return eagerly.

Asa is late, later than usual, it’s not uncommon for things to run over longer than Asa plans, victims being rowdy, traps not working as he hoped, but a seed of doubt settles deep into your stomach. He is coming back…he’ll be back soon.

More time passes and your stomach starts to twist, nausea setting in rapidly, you crawl of out position and sit cross legged. The longer the minutes tick on the deeper you spiral, what if he isn’t coming back? Maybe he’s hurt? No, he’s always prepared if things go south. Did you do something wrong?

You rely on him all the time but it’s not like you have a choice, he’s the one who ripped you from your home and imprisoned you. You rely on him to feed you, wash you, tell you what to do and when to do it…god you sound pathetic, no wonder he doesn’t want you anymore, but isn’t that what he desired? Your complete submission and dedication? The thought makes a sob bubble up on your throat.

Its all to much to quickly, the harsh words and doubt clogging up more and more of your mind until it’s all you can think of, all you can breath. You start to tremble and you know what’s coming, but you don’t know how to help it. Sure enough the hyperventilating starts, gulping for air between shaky sobs, rocking to try ground yourself.

Why would he go to all this effort to hide you away and mould you into his perfect specimen if he was just going to throw you away once he got bored? Didn’t you mean more to him than that or were you just deluded by his affection?

You don’t know how long you’ve been hunched over on the bedroom floor by the time you hear the door open, Asa shrugging off his coat and gloves, at this point you don’t even perk up or move to greet Asa as normal.

Asa was concerned when you weren’t in your usual agreed place, heart rate picking up as he looks for you. His eyes land on you curled into yourself, small cries wracking your body. his eyes soften at the sight, he knew he should’ve called you to let you know he’d be later than usual but it slipped his mind…shit

If physical affection during panic attacks is helpful for you then he’ll announce his presence quietly enough for you to hear him and know he’s there but not enough to startle you even worse. Asa will run his hand through your hair gently and adress you.

If physical affection is off the table during a panic attack Asa will move to sit down next to you after announcing himself, grunting at the way his knees crack on the way down to you.

“I’m sorry I’m late home, things didn’t go as I wanted and I ended up having to stay later, but I’m here now. Please tell me what’s gotten you so upset cricket?” He coos at you affectionately. Usually he’d punish you for not being in your spot on time but not today, today is different.

You trip over your words, trying to get what’s bothering you across to him between sobs and gasps before Asa shushs you. “Don’t hurt yourself, you can tell me once you’re feeling better, just copy me ok?” Asa gives some example deep breaths, holding them for a few seconds before releasing slowly. He waits patiently for you to join in until your breathing in sync, your physically separate but it feels personal and intimate, especially coming from someone as stony cold as your sir.

Eventually you calm down enough to speak, still out of breath and teary but much better than before, Asa always has had that affect on you, being a place of comfort compared to the usual terror he instils in others. He prompts you once again to tell him what’s causing all this, you hesitate but slowly start explaining, getting slightly more upset as you reveal your concerns.

Asa’s lips drop into an unhappy straight line, hating to see you like this and hating that it could’ve been avoided if he wasn’t so forgetful.

“May I hold you pet?” He asks for confirmation before pulling you into his lap, letting you cry into his shoulder, he couldn’t care less about the tears and snot you’re leaving on his turtle neck right now.

“Silly cricket, don’t you see how much you mean to me? I’m not one to tiptoe around my feelings, if I’d had enough of you as you put it you wouldn’t be on my lap right now, however I’d say that’s improbable considering you’re my entire world”

Asa tugs the O ring on your collar and moves your chin up to look him in his black scleras. “I’m not sick of you now and I never will be, you belong here, to me, and that’s final” Asa thumbs over your cheek bone and gives you a sweet chaste kiss.

You sit like this in Asa’s lap for a while as he rocks you, whispering affirmations and sweet words into the crook of your neck. Eventually he sits you back on the floor and takes your hand, pulling you with him but not letting your hand go. “We should probably get this cleaned up shouldn’t we pup?” Asa holds up your hands in front of your face, cuticles red and bloody. You didn’t even realise you’d been doing it in the height of your panic.

“Nothing to be ashamed of pet, let me patch you up and I’ll make us some dinner, it’s past your dinner time after all. Maybe if you’re good for the rest of the evening you can sleep with sir tonight, would you like that?”

You nod happily and follow him into the bathroom to treat your wounds, a shy smile creeping its way onto your face and a flutter in your heart.

I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send me more Asa requests!

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collection #the collector #the collector x reader #writing #my writing

[kingdom-by-the-sea]

Breakfast

Pairing- Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary- Spencer and Y/N are forced to put off their first date for the third time

Warnings- None

Words- 1259

This blurb is brought to you by the randomly generated word, breakfast, and me working to write more often without heavily critiquing myself. 💜

They had already had to cancel twice that month and from Hotch’s strained expression through his office windows, it looked like they were about to be 0-3.

Y/N slumped her head into her hands and began rubbing at her temples, “You have to be kidding me…”

It had been nearly a month and a half since she and Spencer had haphazardly asked each other out in a mutually awkward demonstration. The process had been painful and scary and nerve wracking but it was all going to be worth it, for the first date that was seemingly never going to happen. They had both been inordinately busy. Between work, visiting family, general bad luck and the biological need for sleep, it felt like they were chasing a ghost.

“This weekend?” He asked quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of unwanted eyes towards their fresh relationship.

Her lips pursed with disappointment, “I can’t. It’s my nephew’s first birthday and I’m staying the weekend with my parents.”

Spencer huffed out a disappointed sigh, ruffling the hairs in front of his face. God, she wanted to reach out and brush his hair from his face. She wanted to touch him and feel him and as great as it was to hold his hand in her lap, she wanted so much more. …But none of that can happen if we can’t even manage dinner.

Her face scrunched at the thought and the air in the room felt a bit more sour. Her mind was a never ending maze, each turn leading to a deeper spiral of doubts.

It had all felt so nice and happy when they had set up the first first date. So optimistic and pleasant. But everything had grown heavier since then and she worried the whole thing was turning into a chore. That was the last thing she wanted, to become bothersome enough that Reid thought it wasn’t worth the wait.

“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?” The words rushed out of her mouth before she could think them through.

“What?” Spencer’s attention turned towards her immediately and she could feel a shift even in his fingers.

“On the date,” she hesitantly clarified, preparing for the worst.

“No,” the word was fast and surprised confusion layered over it.

Spencer glanced down at their hands momentarily, “You haven’t changed your mind…have you?”

“No, no definitely not,” she rushed the words out in a breath, “I just…. I wish we didn’t have to keep putting it off. It feels like we’re not even getting a chance to start and it’s already blowing up in our faces.”

Reid’s face shifted slightly as he searched for the right thing to say. He was just about to start when Hotch finally made his appearance and that was that for the next few days.

~~~~

She and Spencer were curled on the couch together. It hadn’t taken long for Reid to fall asleep to the white noise of the jet and Y/N found herself enjoying the way his body leaned slightly against her in sleep, far more forward than she knew he would have dared to be awake, especially around all of their coworkers. God, he was beautiful. She felt the familiar surge of emotions as she watched him sleep and it reminded her of all the times she had spent studying him from afar as her feelings for him slowly grew until they had all toppled over into their graceless mutual confession.

“Hey,” he said from his vantage point looking down at where she had been sleeping on the couch.

Despite everything she had been feeling she smiled up at him, enjoying having been awakened by him specifically, “Hey.”

It didn’t take long for them to straighten things up on the plane and walk off hand in hand. It was good to be back in DC and it was good to be here with him even if it was only a blip in their busy schedules. Despite all the craziness of the past several days, Y/N still had to make the trip to visit her family and as excited as she was to see them she knew she’d be leaving a slice of herself behind which yearned to soak up every second with Spencer. Y/N tried not to think about it though or all the packing and preparation she still had to do. All she wanted was this moment right now, preserved in her heart.

There was a twinge of nervousness in his face before he continued, hopeful, “It’s a picnic basket.”

Cautiously Y/N sat down placing the basket on her lap before slowly opening it to reveal an assortment of muffins and pastries.

“I know it’s not dinner but I asked Garcia if she could arrange something for breakfast for us,” his expression was sweeter than anything in that basket and she felt her heart swell.

“I thought about everything you said and I’m tired of waiting too,” Spencer’s eyes met hers begging for some sign of approval.

A bright smile grew on her face before she even recognized its arrival and on pure instinct Y/N felt her fingers reach for Spencer’s face, twirling lightly in his curls before she brought his mouth to hers for a slow first kiss.

#criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid request #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagines

[sirenscriptures]

primarchs + fantasies

summary: basically just a ramble thirst post because i want to drag 30k/40k into my already mess of a blog. i’m still figuring out certain pieces of characterization/lore so be patient with me here <3 i am suffering this brainrot and dragging you down with me!

warnings/notes: nsfw themes (18+ only), fem-bodied depicted reader, mentions/depictions of exhibitionism, of course size difference, hints of breeding kinks, slight mention of blood drawing, bondage/rope play. (these are partial fantasies i think they’d have but also they are genuinely so touch starved i think even the slightest form of physical intimacy could make them combust. in a good way.)

featuring: lion el’jonson, fulgrim, leman russ, magnus, sanguinius, mortarion, and horus lupercal (pre-heresy)

lion el’jonson

look, if there’s one thing each of the primarchs could use in some way, it’s a fucking break. lion is definitely one of those primarchs. the man has always been on high alert, and has never truly known how to relax. that is, until he bonded with you.

the fact he’s found himself so close to you is quite a milestone of sorts. being a primarch of many secrets, you can assert that he isn’t someone who trusts easily. he doesn't let many others know what his deeper thoughts contain, not even some of his own blood.

however, it’s almost like he’s a different person in your presence. when he’s with you, he feels a profound sense of peace, like he can shut his mind off from his usual stressors and worries. especially during your alone time.

but it’s when he’s completely alone (a rare occurrence) that his thoughts tend to wander more than usual. it isn’t a total shock in the slightest when all he can think about is you. but when his thoughts are crowded with curiosities of what sounds you’d make while on top of him and how you’d feel wrapped around him…yeah it gets a little concerning to someone of his stature.

the thoughts of you like this start small…then they bloom into much more , to the point where if he even looks your direction when in this state of mind he’s a stuttering, flustered mess. a completely rare state for a primarch to be caught in, yet here we are.

so, it’s safe to say that while lion isn’t one to deeply “fantasize” like some of his brothers might, his intrusive thoughts about you certainly have a habit of spiraling and he has to physically slap himself to snap out of it.

fulgrim

in terms of fantasies, where do we even start with fulgrim? ever since you let him get close to you, whether that be on a personal or physical level, it was like opening pandora’s box. when you get him started, there is no going back.

it doesn’t have to be much to get him started with you. just your beauty alone and seeing you smile at him could get his dirtier thoughts racing. (horny bastard <3)

the fact that you were totally oblivious for a while of the power you held over him was amusing at times. though he was much bigger than you, he often thought about what you would do if he let you take the reins over him.

even just the thought of your soft hands running over his bare body could make him shiver. he could picture perfectly how beautiful you’d look if he had you on top of him. but he could also picture how beautiful you’d look if he had you in front of a mirror.

the way your delicate frame would lean against his chest as he fucked into you, massive hands roaming all about your perfect body…

most of the time he has to stop himself from thinking any further, for just the thoughts alone aren’t enough. maybe he’ll show you what he means when you’re alone with him in his chambers.

leman russ

if you want to delve into literal ferality, it is absolutely leman’s brain. and his actions, of course. so it isn’t far fetched to say his fantasies about you are in the same realm as his normal thought processes.

now, just because he is one of the more “feral” primarchs doesn’t mean he lacks complete restraint. but when it comes to you, let’s just say his restraint goes a bit…out the window if you know what i mean.

when his mind does wander and you’re not around, he tends to imagine showing you off. exhibiting how well he can pleasure you and how good you look while he does it to you. he doesn’t mind those of his legion seeing him with you like this, and even when you two are alone during these moments, he almost wants someone to see.

he would love to display the way he makes you whimper and squirm around him while rutting into you. though, he won’t let anyone get the wrong idea. you’re his, and he won’t let you forget that in the slightest.

but that’s not even half of what he’d like to do to you. and you can tell so blatantly in the way he teases you, unashamed of who’s around when he makes his usual remarks. but at the same time, he does it all out of love. he knows how annoyed you get from him pushing your buttons all the time, but he can tell you wouldn’t change it for anything.

magnus the red

for someone who sees most physical intimacy as a “waste of time” like a few of his other brothers, he certainly doesn’t stick to that thought process when it's you he's thinking about.

with magnus being as knowledgeable as he is, it genuinely frustrates him when he can’t figure out at first why he feels this way about someone like you. yet the more time he spends around you, and the more you show how open you are to learning from him and that you actually listen to him, the more these feelings start to increase.

in a strange way, he feels comforted by you. though when he’s closer to you than usual, these feelings of comfort seem to…deepen into more than he first expected.

even though he can’t pinpoint it at first, he finds that every time he’s away from you, the want for your presence grows within him like some sort of hunger. yet, it’s now laced with the craving to feel your touch.

his mind is generous in being able to envision you beneath him, body trembling with arousal as his touch travels your bare skin, admiring and caressing every inch of you. all of his senses are ablaze; the craving for your touch, voice, scent, everything becoming too much for even someone of his stature to endure.

shaking away these thoughts is much more of a challenge than magnus would first anticipate. but now that he’s come to this self discovery, he doesn’t want to waste anymore time merely thinking about it.

sanguinius

while sanguinius is the more compassionate of the primarchs when it comes to overall personality, don’t let that fool you. when this man gets down, he’s an absolute freak.

on a serious note, the one thing sanguinius loves is spoiling you, on all levels, of course. but he just has a little bit of extra fun when he gets to do it to you physically. he does love when you return the favor, but if he’s being completely honest he likes it more when he gets to please you.

when he’s with you in an ordinary setting, he doesn’t let his more “sinful” thoughts take over. out of many of his siblings, he is certainly one of the most restrained and can control himself when it comes to feelings such as these. one of the lucky ones, he supposes.

but despite being able to hide it, you do make it quite difficult at times. it can be anything that triggers that burning within him—the way you unsuspectingly bat your eyelashes when you stare at him, or when you look so bashful when he greets you with a kiss on your hand. or even when you accidentally brush up against one of his wings. and you aren’t even aware you do so much to him physically…

yet there’s not much that gets him going quite like the thought of driving you absolutely mad with pleasure (much like fulgrim if we’re being honest here). whether it’s the thought of how you’d react to his head in between your thighs until your legs tremble uncontrollably, or how pretty you’d sound when he drains just the slightest bit of blood from your tender neck…

sometimes he’s left heavy-breathed at the thought, and you’re not even in the same room as him. if only you were aware of the effects you had on him. though, something inside sanguinius felt as though it wouldn’t be a mystery for much longer.

mortarion

believe it or not, mortarion is not a total stranger to these kinds of thoughts. though, it’s much more intensified since you’re the only person he’s had these thoughts about.

with mortarion being one of the more distant and reserved of his brothers, his sex drive is one of those things he’s never had to deal with since he’s never felt this way about anyone else before. so it’s no surprise how easily pent up he can become.

even just the slightest things you do can get him electrified, and the poor, touch and affection-starved soul doesn’t even fully understand why. the way you smiled at him with genuine fondness from a distance the other day? he’s still thinking about it for weeks. the way your hand gently brushed against his face by mistake? still has him reeling even when he’s in your presence.

the way his thoughts of you overwhelm him is far from easy to deal with, and you immediately notice the way his behavior changes in response to these newer sensations.

it’s so much worse when he’s away from you for long periods of time, though. his mind is racing with everything from how beautiful you would look tied up in various positions; the imprints of rope staining your soft skin, to what sweet sounds he could get you to make in response to his mouth in between your legs.

his poor legionaries when they have to deal with him in this state…he’s so helplessly tuned out from everything and they have not a clue what’s going on with their primarch. but he won’t have to worry much longer, for he’ll be venting his sexual frustrations out on you when you’re both reunited.

horus lupercal (pre-heresy)

honestly, what doesn’t horus think about when he’s thinking about you? not many people can make his mind wander to even the most dangerous of places like you can. while he isn’t sure how this all started, he is far from complaining. honestly, what doesn’t horus think about when he’s thinking about you? not many people can make his mind wander to even the most dangerous of places like you can. while he isn’t sure how this all started, he is far from complaining.

the way he is around you is his usual self, but his thoughts about you aren’t restrained in the slightest. you’re so captivating, and while he wants to hang on every word you say to him, he can’t help but fantasize in the process.

horus doesn’t expect you to have a very strong effect on him at first, yet he’s proved wrong very quickly when he’s away from you. when he’s finally alone is when it hits him.

he thinks about how much he’d love it if he had you all to himself. he could imagine spoiling you in every way imaginable, but especially physically. he could imagine all the noises he could cause you to make, and all of the sensations he could make you feel. but most of all, he could imagine breeding you—filling you up with his seed to where you know that you’re his.

from there, you’re the cause of all of horus’ sleepless nights until he gets to see you again…

#primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #primarch smut #⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚 — sea’s scriptures #☾ — nightly yearning #primarch headcanons #horus lupercal x reader #leman russ x reader #magnus the red x reader #fulgrim x reader #lion el’jonson x reader

[celluloidbroomcloset]

I keep coming back to the breakfast scene, re: Jack, and noting that I don’t think it’s Jack's intention for Ed to be ashamed. He’s working on pointing out Stede's inadequacies as a pirate and reminding Ed of the good old days, assuming that Ed will fall right into line next to him. He also assumes that someone as apparently delicate as Stede will be horrified by the burning people alive story (and we have to remember that Jack’s knowledge of Stede comes from Izzy, who definitely thinks Stede is effeminate and weak).

Jack's right in a sense—Stede is horrified, but it’s more about what he’s seeing as a part of Ed’s past and his struggle to reconcile that with the Ed he knows. He’s also questioning Ed’s honesty, since this was the man who said that he didn’t actually murder anyone. So there’s a whole layer going on between Stede and Ed that Jack isn’t and can’t be aware of.

But Ed’s reaction IS TO BE ASHAMED. I don’t know how his expressions throughout can be read any differently. This is not him having fun reminiscing, and his eventual excuse to Stede that “technically, the fire killed those guys” is weak and he knows it—he will not look at either Stede or Jack as he speaks. Jack is accidentally shaming Ed in front of Stede, under the assumption that Ed will see how Stede isn't a real pirate and will reject him. But it’s the start of Ed’s spiral into the fear that he is a monster, not good enough for Stede, and that Stede is already starting to see that.

You can’t read what happens later in the episode as independent of that scene. It’s not Ed’s slow realization that he’s outgrown Jack. It’s Ed trying to fit back into the mold that Jack and Izzy are constantly telling him is the only place he fits.

Throughout the early part of the episode, Ed is constantly switching back and forth between “it’s fine, I’m a pirate, Jack’s a pirate, we’re all pirates” and “I don’t want to be like this and Stede is seeing this and I’m not good enough for him.” Right from the start, he tries to rationalize away Jack’s behavior because he 1) sees it as hurtful (and apologizes to Stede for it) and 2) doesn’t want to see it as hurtful because he sees himself in Jack. He’s trying hold onto two things at once and isn’t able to reconcile them.

To say that Ed isn’t aware of what’s happening to some degree, and that the entire day with Jack only starts going wrong for him when Jack kills Karl, is to miss Ed’s character progression and the reveal of his deeper psychology. He leaves with Jack because of the shame that was developing right from the start, when they woke Stede up. He can’t hold onto the contradictions any longer and decides that he must be what Jack makes him out to be and it’s better for everyone if he abandons himself to that before Stede can reject him.

(Stede also shouldn’t have to stand around telling Ed that what he and Jack are doing isn’t hurtful, just in order to make Ed feel OK. What they’re doing is hurtful. It hurts Stede and it increasingly hurts the crew. Ed is absolutely participating in that and trying very hard to pretend that it’s all OK when he is increasingly aware that it isn’t. So when it all comes to a head, he sees all that he’s done and the pain he’s caused to someone he loves and he thinks that’s all he can ever do.)

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #calico jack #gif #ofmd meta #i'm probably just repeating points that have already been made #but the persistent “ed is having fun” narrative is getting to me #anyway #i don't know why the entire opening of the episode gets discarded like it's not important #since i did have someone get very mad at me for not providing evidence #here's evidence

[seasonsbloom]

swimming into you . bob

PART ONE : he's so pretty (when he goes down on me)

pairing ; bob floyd x female!reader

synopsis ; things between you and Bob are strictly business: he’s your backseater, and that’s all there is. Until he offers to help you let off some steam and you find out just how pretty he looks between your thighs…

wc ; 6k

warnings ; 18+ only; explicit language, angst, panic attack, reader definitely has PTSD, mentions of past character death

note: this has no smut which might be a surprise after the first part, sorry. but this needed off my chest, so... idk. i hope you enjoy it anyway, please don't be disappointed

desertsagecelestial aka sol i STILL owe you my life

Your life is a downward spiral, a maelstrom that pulls you ever deeper towards rock bottom, a rollercoaster on an eternal decline, a plane mid-crash, a…

“I swear to god, Spec, you’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met,” Phoenix says, squinting at you over the rims of her sunglasses. “And I know Hangman personally.”

You can’t answer because you’re staring at those Ray Bans, and it’s making you think of Bob’s glasses in that bathroom, lenses fogged up, metal pressing against your naked skin, makes you think of sliding them up his nose, and then you’re thinking of his fingers and his tongue and his voice against you, and…

“Bro, are you dissociating?” Phoenix has tilted her head sideways. “Do I need to get you a doctor? What the hell is going on?”

It’s a sunny day, but that’s not surprising in California. You’re in the common room, lounging on nondescript beige couches. Outside the glass front, somewhere in the sky, Rooster and Hangman try and fail to shoot down Maverick. The radio crackles with the static of their comms, spitting out their taunts in endless circles nobody listens to anyway.

The other pilots are on standby in the hangar, and Bob is… god knows where. You hate that you’re so attuned to his every move now you notice even when you don’t know where he is. Part of you wants to write it off as the blind loyalty that comes with flying a two-seater, but you know that’s not true.

For a moment, you just look at Phoenix. Then you say, “Do you think Bob is good in bed?”

She blinks at you. A moment passes, then another, then…

“Specter, what the fuck?!”

You shrug. “I’m just asking.”

“Jesus.” Phoenix rubs the balls of her hands across her eyes like her head is about to split apart. “Why would you ever ask that?”

Because he ate me out in the Hard Deck’s handicapped bathroom, and I think it broke my brain, permanently altered my body chemistry, changed my actual life…

“Just… I don’t know. I was wondering.”

“Well, stop wondering,” she suggests. Then she gives you a suspicious look. “Did something happen between you two?”

You turn your gaze to the window, to the contrails like smoke signals on the canvas of the skies, to the roaring of engines that’s become your lullaby, to the sight of Bob crossing the airfield. Something in your chest hurts. Everywhere you look, he’s already there.

“No,” you say. “Nothing happened.”

+

The first time you met Bob, you looked right past him. There were bigger fish to fry here and bigger things to look out for, and Hangman was grinning at you and saying something stupid, so you walked by him without even realizing he was there. 

He’s got a habit of that - flying under the radar.

“Yo, Specter.” Phoenix draped herself around you, pulled you against her chest. You were both giddy to see each other again, to fly together once more. “This is Bob. He’s your new backseater.”

You don’t remember much. Remember only that he wore glasses and was smiling at you with something eager, something hopeful about his face. Remember looking away immediately, nodding once.

“Don’t try to get in my way up there,” you told him, and then you turned away to beat Hangman at darts.

Ignoring the way his face fell. Ignoring Phoenix nudging you. Ignoring the sinking, tumbling, crashing feeling in your chest.

It was the beginning of the end, and you knew even then.

+

Sometimes you think Rooster knows.

He’s always been kind to you, kind enough to keep you hoping at the same time it tells you not to dream too much. He’s kind to everyone, anyway.

“Why’d you wanna be a pilot?” he asks, waving down a bartender and putting both your drinks on his tab.

For a moment, you think about telling him the truth. All my life, I’ve been dreaming of flying away. All my life, I’ve been dreaming of escape.

It seems too much. You’ve never told anyone.

So you just shrug, take a swig of your beer, and say, “I like the thrill.”

Rooster laughs. “I know what you mean,” he agrees, winks, knocks his bottle against yours.

And just like that, the door is opened again. You dream the dream a little longer.

Part of the Rooster appeal, part of why you suspect your crush is so persistent, is that there’s no way it’ll ever happen. All of the thrill of the fall, with none of the fear of the impact.

+

“We need to talk about it.”

You’re fastening your helmet as you stride across the runway towards your plane. Maybe if you walk fast enough, you’ll be able to shake him.

“No,” you growl, but it’s diminished by the fact that you’ve been struggling with your clasp for a good minute. Your fingers are shaking too hard for you to get a steady grip.

Bob hastens his steps and catches up with you easily. His shoulder rubs against your own, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Specter,” he begins, but you cut him off.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Floyd.” It doesn’t matter how angry you sound. It doesn’t matter how the irritation boils and burns in you. Inevitably, inexplicably, your mouth always begins to form the Big Boy anyway, and then you’re back in that bathroom, back with him, and in your head, you pull him closer instead of pushing him away, and something about it makes you feel like crying. “It doesn’t matter.”

You stop by the plane. Bob’s lips purse, and he looks down at his feet, shoulders pulled almost all the way up to his ears.

“I just think…” he begins, then stops himself.

Payback and Fanboy walk past, getting to their own aircraft, and they’re laughing and chatting—jovial, easy, light-hearted. You envy them. You can’t remember the last time things didn’t feel heavy to you.

Only that’s a lie too. You do remember. It was with Bob Floyd’s face buried in your pussy and your mind somewhere off in the stratosphere.

“Shit,” you curse, frustration coursing through you, fingers still fumbling with the damned clasp, and fuck it all, you just want to fly, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to feel, you just…

Bob knocks your fingers out of the way and closes the clasp for you. Suddenly, he’s so close you can smell him again—your chest burns.

“Specter,” he says, voice soft, “we need to discuss it.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat.

“You promised we wouldn’t talk about it,” you whisper. He seems to want to say something else, but you can’t. You just can’t do it. The fear is there, and it’s making your head spin. “Please, Bob.”

Something about those words is choked. Raw.

He looks at you for a moment, brows furrowed, eyes gentle, and then he nods. Steps away. Doesn’t say anything else.

You climb into the plane and wonder when, oh, when, did it all get so complicated.

+

Phoenix looks at you like she thinks you’re going to fall apart right where you sit. You hate it. 

“You can talk to me, you know?” she says softly, leaning across the table in the mess hall, deep enough her chest almost ends up in the mashed potatoes. “You don’t always have to keep everything inside, Spec.”

It’s not true. That’s your first thought. You can’t talk to her, can’t talk to Bob, can��t talk to anyone. No one, you know this, is going to understand you now.

Your second thought is that you’re a horrible person. Phoenix is kind and genuinely wants to be your friend. She’s been extending hands across canyons for years now. But you just can’t take them. Too afraid you’ll drag her down into the drop with you.

“I hooked up with Bob,” you say, even though you should be telling her something else.

She obviously doesn’t know what to say to that. Opens her mouth just to close it again. Then finally settles on, “Why?”

Part of you wants to say you were the one who told me to let off steam. But this one, you can’t blame it on her. Can’t blame it on anyone but yourself.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug.

But you do know. That’s the problem.

You think of him on his knees in that bathroom. You think of him at your back in the air. How he breaks you apart. How he puts you back together.

“You know,” Phoenix says after an incredibly long time. “I always thought you had a crush on Rooster.”

It makes you laugh, even though it isn’t funny. Not even a little. Not even at all.

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, so did I.”

+

“So, Bob,” Hangman says, grinning in a way you can’t describe as anything other than villainous. If he, too, had a mustache, he’d be twirling it right about now. “Who do you prefer flying with: Phoenix or Specter?”

This was a horrible idea. Evenings at the Hard Deck should be barred for you from now on.

“Oh, come on,” you groan, going for nonchalance even as something inside you goes taut.

Bob looks decidedly uncomfortable, twisting his beer bottle around in his hands, fiddling with the soggy label, not looking at anyone.

“Uhm.” He shrugs. “They’re both good.”

Hangman’s having none of it.

“Nah, nah, nah, none of that diplomacy shit, Floyd. Gotta pick one.”

Coyote, always the shit-stirrer, claps a hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Yeah, bro. Who’s your best girl?”

Before responding, Bob casts his eyes down towards the floor, clears his throat. His glasses are riding low on his nose again, and you sink your fingernails into your palms to stifle the instinct to reach over and push them up for him.

“I guess… well, Phoenix is more consistent. Specter always… she’s a…. she’s a li…”

“Say it.” The words just burst from you before you can remember deciding to say them. Bob looks up then, eyes wide and face open. Your voice is venomous, and you feel like a rattlesnake about to strike. “A liability. That’s what you wanted to say, isn’t it?”

For a moment, Bob and you just stare at each other.

“I didn’t say that,” he says, voice gone soft. He’s going translucent as you speak, blending back into the chaos of the crowd.

“You didn’t have to.”

Everybody’s staring at you, but you keep your chin held high.

“I’m going home,” you say, and then you leave.

++

“You’re going too steep.”

Bob doesn’t have much hope that you’ll listen to him. You never do, apparently, unless he’s got you pinned to public bathroom doors.

It’s like a fever dream to him now, that night. Impossible that he was ever so close to you when all there is between you these days is distance and feelings tangled like thickets of thorns. When you won’t talk to him and won’t look at him, when it doesn’t matter what he says or asks.

Unsurprisingly, your answer is almost instantaneous. “We’re fine.”

The first time Bob met you, he couldn’t stop looking at you.

You were beautiful, in your uniform, under the bar lights. Beautiful and bright and brilliant and as decidedly out of his reach as the moon. You didn’t even look at him twice, not even after Phoenix introduced you. Drifted into his life and out of it like the specter that gave you your callsign.

And Bob never believed in love at first sight, still doesn’t, but there was something there, something beneath the thin veneer of arrogance you wore, you still wear. Something just under the surface, he thinks nobody but him sees—something he wants to keep as his secret.

You’re brilliant. The best pilot he’s ever met (even if half his friend group would balk at the idea), determined, clever, cut-throat. Stubborn to a fault. Witty and funny and always ready to stand up for yourself. The complete opposite of him.

Most of the time it’s admiration and curiosity, and then sometimes, it’s something else. When you slip from untouchable Ice Queen to something softer, when you lose yourself in the sky, in a book, in his touch in a bathroom at the Hard Deck… when you feel like nobody’s looking, that’s when Bob thinks he might love you.

Bob is a pilot. He gets up into that sky, and sometimes he deludes himself into thinking one day, one day, he’ll fly high enough, stretch far enough, and then finally, he’ll reach that moon. It’ll never happen, of course. The moon stays firm, beautiful and bright and brilliant, and achingly, eternally lonely. Never his to have.

The plane keeps climbing, steady, steady, steady, and Bob can barely breathe.

“Specter,” he chokes out. “Come on, girl.”

And then suddenly, abruptly, tipping like a pendulum, the plane falls. It’s an almost artful arch at the beginning, a ballerina angling her body towards the ground in a jump, and it leaves his stomach hanging somewhere above his head.

Then something changes. You keep falling.

“Specter, time to pull up,” Bob says, twisting to try and find Mav. Where is he?

There’s no answer.

“Specter,” he repeats, thinking you’re ignoring him for another reckless stunt, for another moment of you trying to recapture glory.

Still, you don’t respond, and that’s when he realizes something is horribly, terribly, awfully wrong.

“Specter!” he calls a third time, and now there’s a note of panic creeping into his voice he’s sure the others can pick up on over the coms. “Specter, you with me?”

The ground keeps hurtling closer. You keep silent.

“Bob.” That’s Mav’s voice, over the comms, right in his ear. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Bob gasps, and he’s breathless, he’s chafing, he’s… “She’s not… Specter!”

“Is she in g-Loc?” Rooster asks.

Rooster, Bob thinks. He twists, searching the horizon for his friend, but he can barely see anything. His vision has gone blurry.

And you’re still, still, still spinning towards the ground.

“Specter,” Bob says again, and he’s never known fear like this before. Not the first time he flew on his own. Not when he and Natasha had to punch out. Not when Mav and Rooster went down. Not ever. “Specter!”

And then he’s just saying your name, your real name, your first name, the one he’s said a million times in his head and never out loud, straining against all the buckles as if he can reach you, stretching out his arm over a distance impossible to breach.

“Bob!” That’s Rooster again. “Bob, you gotta punch out, you gotta eject now!”

I can’t leave her. That’s all he thinks. I can’t leave her, I can’t leave her, I can’t…

And Bob isn’t religious, never has been, but he’s saying, “Please, wake her up, please, God, I’ll do anything, please wake her up, please….”

You come to with a gasp like tires screeching on the asphalt, like a choir of angels or something, and then you’re pulling up, you’re getting the plane back on track, you’re…

In his ear, you’re saying, “Sorry. I… sorry.”

Bob sobs.

+

He knows you won’t acknowledge it before you land. He knows you’ll play it off, smile about it, laugh like nothing happened.

But he saw the tremor of your hands. He heard the fear in your voice. You can’t hide because he’s seen too much of you. Because he knows you, even if you don’t want him to.

“Specter,” he says, racing after you across the runway towards the hangar.

Everybody’s there, standing in a crowd near the doors. Pale faces, drawn with a panic that should be familiar by now, that’s part of this job. A panic nobody ever gets used to.

“I’m fine,” you say. You’re smiling, but it’s strained, and it’s a lie. He knows it is.

And Bob is angry. Angrier than he’s ever been with you because it’s not fair, not fair that you’re shutting him out, always shutting him out when all he wants is to hold you, be there for you, love you…

“You almost died!” Bob calls, voice rising, and he’s pretty sure there are still tears on his face. At least his cheeks feel wet.

Everybody’s looking at him. He can feel their eyes on him.

Usually, it would be enough to make him want to draw his head all the way between his shoulder blades, but not right now. Not with that feeling still simmering in his belly. Not with the feeling of that plummet still in his bones and the echoing silence of the cockpit in his ears. 

You stop. For a moment, you gape at him. Then you say, “You would have died, too.”

He’s shaking his head before you’ve finished, frantic, saying, “I could have punched out, you were in g-LOC, you would have died, Specter, this isn’t funny, this isn’t a game, this is real….”

“I can handle myself,” you say, but something about your voice is chafing.

“I think what we just saw,” Rooster says, face solemn, arms crossed in front of his chest, “proves that even you can’t always handle yourself, Specter.”

By your hips, your hands clench and unclench into fists. Your whole body seems to pulsate to a rhythm nobody but you can hear, shoulders heaving, head nodding up and down.

You’ve always stood apart from them, even as you stood right next to them. Never letting anybody in.

I can help you, Bob wants to say. You don’t need to carry it alone.

But you’re shaking your head, pulling the helmet against your chest. Stand on that runway, a step from him, a million miles from him.

“I’m fine,” you insist one last time. Voice like a wind chime. Face like a ghost.

And Bob thinks it might be time to let the moon go.

++

A week later, Hangman goes down.

Birdstrike, both engines on fire, ejectejecteject, static on the radio, fire streaking across the sky, then the parachute opening and the wind howling and him floating, light as a feather, towards the ground.

You’re out of the room before you can hear how it ends. Stumbling through the hallways of the base like a sleepwalker, like a toddler, like someone on the verge of a terrible thing.

It’s growing in you, something you can’t name, something that mounts and mounts and…

In a corner, next to a water fountain, you crumble like a ragdoll. Fold yourself into a neat square of limbs, knees pulled all the way up to your eyes, face pressed into the space between them.

The panic flares into your body like electricity, tingles down your spine and into your legs, tugs at your hands and feet. And your chest is full of it, of that anxiety and that memory, so full the feeling crowds against your ribcage, threatens to snap the bones. There’s no room for oxygen.

I’m going to choke, you think. I’m going to…

“Hey.”

You know it’s Bob without looking up. You couldn’t do it anyway, even if you tried. Your muscles won’t listen to you, not now when your body belongs to the anxiety.

“It’s okay,” Bob whispers. He’s crouched in front of you, you know this because you can see his shoes through the gaps between your knees. Angled like a V, straining towards you. “He’s fine. Hangman’s fine.”

It should bring relief, but it doesn’t. You shake your head, forehead still smashed against your knees, and your skin tugs against the patellas.

No, you think. I can’t do it. Not again, not again, not again. Please, god, make it end, just make it stop, I can’t, I can’t, I…

“I can’t,” you say, and you don’t know what you mean.

All you can think about is the crash. The gravity pulling at your chest. A canopy exploding above you. The pain of that dislocated shoulder. And then the emptiness, the aching, endless emptiness of the after. The guilt, the grief, the fear, the fear, the fear.

“Can I touch you?”

Bob’s voice is so soft, even with the underlying current of firmness. Just like it was in that bathroom. And it should be an oxymoron - for someone to be so tender, for someone to be so unyielding. But it’s not, not with Bob. Bob, who seems to contain true multitudes.

You nod because you can’t find your voice.

He draws you into his arms, right there on the floor. Hands on your back, tugging you against his chest, urging your head into the space below his chin. He’s so warm, and he smells nice, and he’s everywhere.

“Easy,” he whispers. “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

And then it’s just him. The steady beat of his heart instead of the screaming of warning systems. The smell of his aftershave instead of the smoke and the gasoline. His fingers pressing into your spine instead of the straps cutting into your shoulders.

Bob holds you together until you can do it yourself.

You draw back, slowly, almost reluctantly, and the moment his touch is gone, you miss it like something intrinsic to you. Miss it like a limb.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You don’t want to look at him. You can’t look at him.

Bob exhales.

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “Can you… explain it?”

You suppose you should. Suppose you owe it to him after these weeks. After everything you’ve put him through.

“It… it scared me,” you whisper. It takes a lot to get that out, to admit that there’s anything, anywhere, that could scare you.

You don’t want Bob to know. You want Bob to think of you as someone above things like fear, someone strong and brave and whole. But it’s just all too much. You’re eroding, crumbling, tumbling off the tightrope you’ve been walking for so long.

If someone like Hangman, someone brilliant, someone fantastic, someone who burns brighter than life, can go down… then what about you? What about Bob?

“The rest, too.” At your questioning look, he elaborates, “Explain all of it to me.”

You could keep pretending you don’t understand him, but you’re too tired. Something about the panic has made you fuzzy, has blurred your edges, and you just want it to be over. You just want to be rid of everything clogging up your chest.

You want to feel again what you felt that night in the bathroom with Bob. You want somebody to carry the burden with you, so you won’t feel it dragging you beneath the surface of the ocean all the time.

“I killed her,” you say finally. The words are barely more than a whisper, but they burst from somewhere at the very core of you. Something you’ve kept hidden from view for years.

Bob pauses. Stares.

“... What?”

“I killed her,” you repeat, voice watery, hands shaking. “My last backseater. I killed her.”

He opens his mouth only to close it again—shifts his weight where he’s still sitting on the ground. Your knees are almost touching.

“Spec…” he begins, but you don’t let him finish.

“Everybody always said it, you know? That I was a wildcard, that I just… did whatever I wanted without thinking about others. Everybody but her. She’d always say, oh, you just don’t understand her, she’s brilliant, she knows what she’s doing, she….” You have to stop yourself, have to suck in a breath that sounds like you’re drowning, like your lungs are filling up with water. “And then one day we had a fight. She said that I… that I didn’t listen to her up in the air, that I always trusted myself more than I trusted her, and she… she called me a liability.”

Something in Bob’s eyes shifts, something like understanding flutters across his face, but the dam inside of you has broken. The river rushes without stopping.

“So I decided to prove her wrong. I wanted to go right, but she told me to go left, and I did. We got into a jet stream. I lost control of the plane. We had to eject. I made it, and she didn’t.”

You pause then. Blink against that horrible, unforgiving, brilliant sun outside the window. Your cheeks are wet.

“She was my best friend, Bob.” Your voice breaks, and you fold in on yourself, deflate. “She was the only one who ever believed in me. I knew her since we were eighteen, we did everything together, I only started flying two-seaters so I could fly with her, and you have to understand, I would have… if I could have changed it, if I could have died instead of her, I would have, I wouldn’t even have thought about it, I… And I know I’m not a… not a good person, I know I’m selfish and mean, and I hurt people all the time, and I know I hurt you, but I just… ” You trail off. Your voice is barely more than a whisper. “She was my best friend.”

It’s not nearly enough to explain what she meant to you. It’s all you have.

Bob doesn’t answer for a long time. When you finally find the courage to look up at him, you brace yourself for the inevitable: shock, disgust, disdain.

You find none of it.

Bob looks at you with a tenderness on his face that punches all the air out of your lungs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asks, voice soft.

It’s almost helpless, the way you can do nothing but shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not…” You can’t look at him anymore, afraid you’ll do something stupid, afraid you’ll kiss him or tell him something you won’t be able to take back. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

Bob’s brows furrow.

“Of course I care,” he says, as matter-of-factly as if he’s chatting about the San Diego weather. “I care about you, Specter. I always have.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It tugs at you with ice-cold fingers, even as warmth spreads through your stomach. And it scares you, hearing him say that. He shouldn’t care about you. Not if he knows what’s good for him.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a long, long moment. “I’m sorry for… at the Hard Deck, I think I needed somebody, and you were there, and it… I used you. I’m sorry for it. I made a mistake.”

When you look at him next, something on Bob’s face has changed. Some window that was previously thrown wide open is shut. He looks down towards his shoes, glasses sliding slowly, slowly towards the tip of his nose.

“Up in the air,” he says finally. “I get it now, I think. Why you don’t listen to me. But I… Don’t you trust me?”

Hearing him say it hurts somewhere at the very core of you. In the grand scheme of things, in the great failure of your life, Bob is probably the person you trust most.

“I do,” you whisper, shaking your head. Folding your fingers in your lap and biting your lip so hard the sting distracts you from whatever is going on in your chest. “I just… I trust myself more. I have to trust myself more.”

Bob is quiet for a long, long moment. Then he nods.

“I understand,” he says, but it sounds like he wants to say something else entirely. “Can we just… let’s be friends, Spec. Please.”

And he sounds tired. The kind of fatigue that goes bone-deep, that travels over days and nights and weeks, the kind of fatigue you carry with you wherever you go. You know how that feels.

It’s a horrible thought just how much you’ve hurt Bob, and so you’ve never allowed yourself to think it. Have brushed it off and brushed it away, under beds and under carpets and into handicapped bathrooms with broken locks. Have pretended you couldn’t tell in the cockpit, pretended you didn’t see it in the mess hall when his face fell after another scathing remark, another dismissal.

All the way, you told yourself you were doing it for him - it’s not good to get close to you. You’ve never learned how to build things, grow things. All you know is how to ruin them.

So you say, “I don’t want to be your friend, Bob. I want to be alone.”

Behind the sheen of his glasses, Bob’s eyes are wet.

“I don’t think that’s true at all,” he says, finally.

And then he gets up, walks away, and leaves you behind on the floor, a town buried beneath a landslide, a meteor crater, a canyon of sand and rock, and the lone survivor clawing his way over the edge.

+

“Nat says you have a crush on me.”

Rooster gives no greeting, simply slides into the unoccupied seat by your side with those words. He’s broad enough that he dwarfs the rickety chair, the Hawaiian shirt so out of place in the beiges and grays of this military base.

A week ago, maybe you would have been embarrassed. Now, you can barely muster a shrug.

“What’s it matter?”

Rooster raises an eyebrow. The television room is deserted save for the two of you - some movie is playing with the volume all the way down, but you haven’t even been paying enough attention to tell if it’s a romantic comedy or a slasher.

“It matters,” he says. 

You shake your head, staring down at the packet of gum in your hand. The whole room smells like mint.

“I wasn’t ever going to act on it,” you say, “that’s why it doesn’t matter. It’s just… there. It doesn’t change anything for you.”

Rooster is quiet for a moment. And then he says, “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Hm?”

“The way you think it does,” he elaborates as if that clears it up. “You think you can just walk through life and not affect others. You think if you’re just mean and closed-off, if you never let somebody in, you won’t matter to them. That you won’t hurt them. That then they can’t hurt you. That’s not how it works, Spec.”

You exhale. It feels a little like he’s just pried open your chest, pulled all your most private, darkest thoughts into the world.

“I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s like this.” Bradley leans forward, sun-tanned hands reaching for you across the gray, gray expanse of the table. He doesn’t touch you, but he leaves his hands palms-up, an offering between you. “There are people here that love you, Spec. Even if maybe sometimes you don’t deserve that love. And you have the power to hurt them, just like they have the power to hurt you. You’re already in it. You’re just pretending you’re not.”

You grind your teeth. It’s too much. You can’t do it.

Eject, eject, eject, your mind is screaming at you, but it’s like you can’t find the cord.

“Bradley…” you begin, without knowing where you want the sentence to end.

“And you don’t have a crush on me.”

He says it like it’s a fact. He says it like he knows you better than you know yourself.

You’re beginning to suspect he might have a point.

“I think I know when I have a crush,” you say quietly.

“No, you don’t. Otherwise, you’d know you’re head-over-heels for Bob. Otherwise, you’d know he’s loved you since the first time he’s seen you.”

You think of Bob - Bob on his knees at the Hard Deck, Bob’s voice pulling you from the deepest, densest darkness of your life, Bob silhouetted by the unforgiving sun as you splintered into shards of glass right in front of him, as the contents of your life spilled across his feet and drenched him in your night.

It feels like being pressed into the seat at take-off - anticipation, fear, relief… You’re on the verge of something.

“Specter.” Rooster leans low across the table, his face in your field of vision. Kind eyes, kind mouth, kind face. The sort of kindness you don’t deserve. The sort of kindness that rips holes into your life and your resolve and your heart. “You don’t really want me. You just want to want someone and not be afraid they’ll hurt you. You just want to want someone without it being real. Because then it won’t hurt.”

I already know this, you want to tell him, but you can’t. Something about hearing it from him, something about realizing you’re not half as complex as you always thought you were, is strangely reassuring at the same time it makes your stomach churn.

“And you’re scared to want Bob. Because that would be real. Because that could hurt.”

Bob Floyd, who is so much kinder than you ever deserved. Bob Floyd, who has your back. Bob Floyd, who loves you, even when you don’t know how to love yourself.

“It already does, though,” you whisper, your voice impossibly small, your eyes burning. “It already does hurt, Rooster.”

And Rooster smiles. The sight of it plants a hope inside you you didn’t think you were capable of anymore - a sapling fighting its way through concrete. 

“That, Specter,” he says, “is how you know it’s real.”

+

Bob is crying when he opens his door.

He stands there in plaid pajama pants and a white shirt, without his glasses, hair no longer slicked back but curly and soft, and you remember sinking your fingers into it, remember wanting to ask what conditioner he uses, remember…

“Do you love me?” you blurt.

Bob blinks and opens his mouth. His cheeks are wet.

“I…”

You don’t let him finish.

“Because I don’t know if I love you. But I know that I like you. And I know that I’m scared, Bob, I’m so fucking scared. Every day of my life, I’m scared. I’m scared that you’ll die because I trust you, and I’m scared that you’ll die because I don’t trust you, and I’m scared that maybe I could love you, and I’m scared that you’ll hurt me or that I’m always going to keep hurting you and I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with all this fear, Bob.”

And then it’s Bob, the WSO. Bob the pragmatic. Bob the fucking best boy you’ve ever met.

He nods, says, “I know.” And then he takes a deep breath. Goes on, “You don’t need to know any of that stuff. You don’t even have to not be scared. Spec, fuck, I’m scared. I’m scared of how much I like you, and I’m scared of how much you’re hurting all the time, how tightly you keep that all locked up. I’m not asking you not to be any of those things. I’m just… I’m just asking you to talk to me. Let’s figure it out together.”

When he says it like that, it seems almost easy. Simple. Logical.

“For the record,” you say, voice a ruin, and you’re pretty sure you might be crying too, “I don’t think it was a mistake. What we did at the Hard Deck, I mean. I think it… I think it may have been the best decision of my life. I don’t make a lot of those.”

And Bob smiles. Steps to the side and opens his door to you.

“You wanna come in?”

You do.

In his bedroom, with his arms around you, it’s almost enough to pretend you’re whole again. It’s enough to know you’ll get there someday. To a point where you’ll know how to grow things instead of ripping them out of the earth. To a point where maybe, finally, you’ll deserve that love Bob hands out so freely.

In his bedroom, with his arms around you, it’s a little like drowning. It’s a little like flying.

#bob x reader #bob floyd #top gun maverick #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob top gun #bob fic #top gun fic #top gun imagine #mine #writing #f: hsp

[butterfliesornauseous]

Image listening to the progression of a tummy becoming upset ~ your fave ver

Properly going to re write this one someday since i wanted it yo turn out differently but I wanted to get it finished tonight so it’s not the best it could be. Also I haven’t written something that’s not short couple sentence prompts I’m a while so I’m rusty so hope my style isn’t too inconsistent:)

Warning again for unrealistic cheesy stuff like all my posts, stomach noises, mentions of food and growls being weirdly described.

A and B ver

Image you are laying on your fav’s stomach.

It’s just after a meal and the two of you are laying down together. Their stomach is gently gurgling under the back of your head. You can almost image the slish-slosh against the insides of their stomach from their food starting to be broken down with each soft little sound.

The noises are relaxing to you. The gurgles and occasionally short grumble work in a perfect harmony of their insides digestion, and they seem to relax as well with no embarrassment of you listening.

The gurgles are starting to change. The soft noises are becoming a little louder, less watery and with less time between each one.

Their stomach makes it first more rumble-esc noise that draws out for a couple of seconds longer than the original gurgles, It’s like the sounds of their food isn’t agreeing to be torn up anymore. Your ear isn’t actually on their belly, so you can’t fully hear what is going down underneath their skin but, that imagine you had about their dinner’s gentle digestion now seems a lot more sloppy and faster now like he can picture their meal sloshing fight back in their tummy.

You think that if their belly is starting to get sore, you should remove your head as you feel the flutter in their stomach and the small squeeze of their muscles. Their stomach clench’s in and rumbles out their throat and they make a soft burp.

You remove your head to give your fav a look. It’s suspicious how quickly they say, “I’m okay.” Without you even asking what’s on your mind.

“Are you sure?” You sigh, you still can hear their tummy’s flutter from your position above them.

“Positive.” they gently reguide your head back to their belly. To be fair, you think, they wouldn’t want the pressure of your head if they weren’t feeling the best, so maybe you are overthinking this whole thing. But you then decide the situation needs a further investigation, and this time you shift yourself to put your ear directly onto their smooth skin under their ribs. Now you can hear all the noises rumbling and twisting inside them. The noises aren’t the most usual squelch based sounds from the process of their tummy breaking down their dinner. Though there’s a deep rumble that forms from a deeper pit in their belly that vibrates against their skin onto your cheek. It feels like it’s almost spiralling up and turning more high-pitched before it breaks off with a sharp noise that sounds more like digestion.

When the spiral noise ends, you feel their stomach suck in tensely before fluttering back to a relaxed state just to tense again. The moan repeats its self deeper this time. Ending with a creak like groan before stopping instead of the higher sound, and in between the louder noises there’s a low but constant burbling that wouldn’t be heard if you remove your ear from the source directly.

You feel your fav try to subtly move a little after that last noise. They breathe a tad deeper. Their hand comes to rest on the top of your head, the action feels more like an affectionate disguise to touch their tummy as their thumb gently strokes their skin.

You bring your attention back to that low but constant burbling. It’s still a watery sound, but it’s sped up just a little with an edge of a bubbling addition to its noises, it’s not a just burble, it’s a sloppy churn of their dinner. Their insides burble and churn like the sound you would think of when thinking of the inside of a melting pot. Thick sloshy sounds of the food turned liquid already inside, starting to churn with moans of and rumbles of the rest of their dinner still fighting against it.

You feel that suck in of their abdomen after the grumble of their stomach issues and remove your head as they burp again….wetly.

Looking down to their tummy, it’s definitely a little rounded now and their chest’s rise and fall seems more strained.

“Maybe-“ they shift, their stomach makes a slight slosh. “Maybe my tummy is a little upset” they groan before they burp again into their fist.

“Okay, it’s more than a little upset.”

#stomach growls #stomach ache #stomach growling #upset tummy #upset stomach #stomach noises #stomach growl #another one I’m shy to post z