#I Hope This Made Any Sense In The Fucking Slightest
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Hi! For a project in mz school were doingf an activity where we make a utopia. i wanted mine to be inspired by your blog and stuff like accessibility, solar engery, things like that. any things you could give me for ideas?
I cannot emphasize enough how absolutely honored I am that you're looking to my blog for inspiration on this project! I hope I can be helpful!
If you want a fantastic wellspring of cool imagery and inspiration, check out the @solarpunkaestheticweek blog! It was an event held over the summer, and a lot of people participated and did art for it! Like this one that I really love! There's also lots of talk about fashion, architecture, and general aesthetic inspiration too! The queue is also continually running with other cool stuff the other mods and I find! We've also got a pinterest board you can rifle through for more inspo! IDK when this project is due, but we're planning to host another event for the Winter Solstice, which should bring out another burst of cool stuff to be inspired by!
Other cool things that could be fun for a utopia... I go on a bit of a ramble below!
The Dear Alice animation is a great source of inspiration, honestly! The imagery in this video are vivid!
Community fridges, little free pantries, little free libraries, and the like are also super fun for a utopia! Here's a pinterest board I made while I was working on my solarpowered fridge concept project this summer!
You could always go for fun shaped and fun-colored solar panels! I've seen talk of solar panels made to look like terra cotta roof tiles, and of colorful solar glass, so either one of these could be cool to draw inspiration from! The imagery of a stained glass window but its all solar voltaic is... prominent, in my head. While I was rifling through my blog, I found another post about more people doing this (or at least something similar)!
I've been in love with this concept art of fish-shaped wind turbines for the longest while! Clean energy can be clean and fun!
Regarding accessibility--I won't claim its something I know a lot about, but I did go on a bit of a ramble about it at the behest of another asker once. Long and the short of it, I'd definitely encourage looking into talks about walkable cities and accessible cities, see what some other bloggers who are More Knowledgeable Than Me have to say about it! Here's another post I've reblogged about accessibility and solarpunk!
It could be fun to imagine how current structures in cities could be reused in a more solarpunk society! I did this a bit earlier with big parking garages, and the replies and reblogs also have some interesting ideas too!
I guess if you were to ask me what I'd like to see in an imagining of a solarpunk future/more utopian kind of vibe... I'd imagine tight-knit communities, clean energy, expansive transit systems and bike accessibility, large paths for traveling by foot, lots of gardens and greenhouses, big sunny windows, bright colors in buildings and fashion, lots of reuse of clothing and visible mending and the like, personalization, and Good Vibes. There's probably a lot more detail and specifics one would need to go to when it comes to making one, but when I think of Solarpunk those tend to be some of the first things that come to mind.
Aaaand here's a few solarpunk blogs I tend to look to for inspiration, if that's helpful to you at all!
I hope this helps! If anyone else happens across this post and wants to chime in, feel free!
#ani rambles#out of queue#answered asks#anonymous#I Hope This Made Any Sense In The Fucking Slightest#and I hope your project goes well!!! if you end up sharing it let me know I would love to see what you do!#ive also got my art tag and gardening tag if you wanna shuffle through those for more inspo#oh also southernsolarpunk is one of my solarpunk besties as is bumblebeeappletree solar-sunnyside-up and gryphonrampant#and then of course fennopunk and modern-solarpunk but i think they're both in the recc post i added?#i have been working on this for like an hour or 2 now so fingers crossed that its Actually Helpful And Makes Sense
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all jokes aside, I think that haruka would be pretty quick to forgive majima for the whole kidnapping thing back in yk1. partly cause we know majima, who he is as a person, and how he feels about kids and whatnot, so I think it’s safe to assume he made it as clear as possible she was safe at the time and that he wanted kiryu to come and find her as much as she did. but moreover, one of haruka’s number one philosophies, despite all the shit she’s been through, seems to be that people are fundamentally good and thus almost always deserving of compassion and second chances. don’t get me wrong swooping in and taking her off the street was a stupid and reckless idea and I’m not saying it wouldn’t have freaked her out/hurt her emotionally or anything– but. (especially considering all the things she’d find out soon enough that majima does for kiryu– how many times he saves kiryu’s life and risks his own to do so, how he helps kiryu in his own weird ways, etc) I think she’d be much quicker than the average person to accept an apology and see through his persona scarily well to tell he’s got a much bigger heart than anyone really knows and deserves/needs a lot more compassion than he’s been given in his life. I really honestly think she would not hold a grudge, especially if she got at least one heart to heart with him, and would be capable of bonding with him if given the chance
#rambling#hope this made any sense hdghsg#it just sorta hit me cause of playing her in y5 and being able to really get a better read on her character and her morals and all that#they have like. actually a Lot of potential bond-wise and it’s a fucking tragedy we don’t get to see them really interact let alone have#any sort of deep conversation…….hhhghdhgh……..#anywho. yeah also was thinking about it because I think sometimes haruka gets mischaracterized in fandom as being alot more of a#cute-but-secretly-cold-hard-badass type of gal when. like. she’s not.#she’s resilient and can hold her own and is badass in her own way but she’s not cold in the slightest and her ability to empathize/#sympathize with people and forgive people and etc is Quintessential to who she is as a person#haruka#majima#long post
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Please officer ...
S: The one where Officer Jay makes sure to fuck all the senses out of you. Warnings: Jay is anything but gentle, very mean Jay, very desperate reader, spitting, choking, begging (a lot), names calling, very messy and kinda nasty sex... A.N: this is pure smut, there is barely a plot.
You sank obediently to your knees before the stern-faced officer, hands trembling with a heady mix of arousal and trepidation as they hovered over his belt buckle. Meeting his intense stare, you unconsciously wet your lips in a silent plea, hoping to convey your desperation for him to claim you.
But Officer Jay was unmoved by your blatant attempt at seduction. His expression remained impassive, brows raised in a mild show of bemusement as he simply stared down at you, making no move to aid or deter your efforts.
Swallowing hard, you slowly untucked his crisp shirt from the waistband of his trousers with quivering fingers, forcing yourself to hold his gaze all the while. You were determined to prove your utter submission, to shatter that maddening veneer of control until he couldn't resist ravishing you utterly.
With each button you undid, you leaned in closer, your warm breath ghosting in a teasing caress over the trail of toned abdomen you gradually exposed. Your lips brushed feather-light against his heated skin as you worked your way lower and lower still, until finally nuzzling against the coarse hair of his groin.
His length was a heavy, throbbing presence straining against the front of his trousers, begging for release from its confines. You nosed boldly at the prominent bulge, mouthing hot and slick along the outline as best you could through the barrier of fabric. All the while, your eyes remained locked on his, silently challenging that iron grip he had on his restraint.
A muscle ticked sharply in Officer Jay's clenched jaw as he stared back at you, his hands fisting rigidly at his sides. You could see the barest flare of his nostrils as you brazenly outlined every ridge and vein of his immense girth with your lips and tongue, leaving behind a shining trail of saliva on the material.
But still he refrained from touching you, from burying himself in the welcoming heat of your mouth as you knew he was aching to do. Never mind that his piercing gaze was bruisingly intense as it roamed your features, that his chest was heaving just the slightest bit more rapidly with his shallow breaths.
Another piteous whine slipped free as you realized just how unaffected by your efforts he appeared. Wetness seeped from your neglected core, trickling in shameful rivulets down your inner thighs as desperation swiftly eroded any shreds of self-restraint.
Grabbing his hips in your hands, you rutted your cheek shamelessly against the rigid line of his cock, your entire body trembling with need. "Please..." you rasped, sparing one pleading glance up at him through the veil of your lashes. "Please, Officer...I need you."
He said nothing, made no move to touch you as he simply drank in your disheveled, craving form for one torturously protracted moment. Just when you were certain you would go mad with lust for him, another guttural groan slipped unbidden from between his clenched teeth, the sound vibrating in that gravelly timbre that had haunted your fantasies.
And then, before you realized his intention, one corded forearm lashed out in a blur. You felt a sharp pang of discomfort as your hair was gripped in an unforgiving fist, wrenching your head back at a punishing angle to gaze up at him. His face was utterly thunderous, cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide as he finally relinquished the last shreds of his vaunted control.
"You wanton little slut," he seethed, each word ground out between grit teeth. "You'll get what you're begging for, and more..."
Jay's grip was unrelenting, bordering on brutality as he used his fistful of your hair to roughly yank you even closer to his straining erection. His free hand made short work of his trousers, allowing his throbbing length to spring free at last.
"Open," he growled, the steel in his voice making it clear it was an order, not a request.
You immediately complied, lips parting in eager obedience. But just before he could sheath himself in the welcoming heat of your mouth, he paused. His lust-glazed gaze roamed boldly over you, drinking in the desperate sheen of arousal glazing your features.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" His words were sandpaper rough, visceral and dripping with unchecked desire. "To get caught and punished like the depraved little slut you are?"
A piteous whimper slipped free at his brutal phrasing, your thighs unconsciously shifting in a silent plea for friction, for anything to alleviate the molten ache between them. But Officer Jay was merciless, ignoring your wanton display and tightening his grip in your hair in pointed warning.
"Answer me when I ask you something," he thundered, his free hand roughly gripping your chin to hold your focus when you simply whimpered again.
"Y-Yes!" you finally managed, the single word emerging high and reedy and utterly desperate. "Please, Officer... I need it. I need you inside me so bad!"
His eyes and nostrils flared at your explicit admission, drinking in your lewd supplication with naked hunger. For one tantalizing instant, his control seemed to waver before reassembling itself, his expression hardening once more into an imperious mask.
"You're going to have to beg better than that if you want to feel my cock stretching that greedy little pussy," he sneered, dragging the broad head along the seam of your lips, smearing the glistening bead of arousal there in an obscene tease. "Show me how desperate you really are for it."
Your moan was shamelessly loud at the blatant promise laced into his rough words, sounding broken and incoherent even to your own ears. Any remaining vestiges of pride or propriety burned away under the searing onslaught of your lust. You would've professed your fealty to Satan himself if he asked in that moment, so long as he rewarded you with that thick, painful-looking length sheathed fully inside you.
Jay's grip tightened further, to the point of pulsing pain as he leaned in until his face was just inches from yours. His scorching gaze skewered you, pupils swallowing up nearly all the brown of his irises as molten lust and vicious control warred for dominance.
"Well?" He rumbled, voice like gravel ground underfoot. "I'm waiting..."
The hint of challenge, of threat, in his resonant tone snapped the final thread tethering you to coherent thought. With a broken, garbled cry, you strained up as far as you were able in his unrelenting grip, mouth stretching wide in mute, mindless entreaty.
A snarl twisted Jay's features into something fiercely primal as he watched your submission play out. He released your hair abruptly, only to fist both hands into the sweat-dampened strands and yank your head back until it was nearly bent in half.
Then, without any further preamble, he shoved himself fully into your waiting mouth.
A raw, hoarse sound of mingled pleasure and relief rasped from his throat as he bottomed out against the back of your constricted airway. You gagged indelicately around his punishing girth, eyes watering and throat convulsing in a desperate bid to accommodate the thick invasion.
But any protest you may have attempted was ruthlessly silenced as he immediately established a ferocious tempo, slamming into your mouth with piston-like thrusts. Spittle and errant strands of your hair whipped wildly with each savage drive, his testicles slapping with emphatic cruelty against your chin.
"That's it, take it like the cock-hungry slut you are," Jay snarled, his voice utterly wrecked with lust. "Feel how hard your desperation's made me, you filthy little one."
You sobbed around his punishing length, saliva spilling obscenely down your chin with each ruthless impalement. But the cruel degradation only inflamed your arousal further, your core clenching with each molten pulse in shameless yearning to be claimed next.
As if he could sense the depths of your depraved cravings, Jay wrenched back abruptly and shoved you away with enough force to nearly topple you over. You instinctively flinched back from him with a broken, keening cry of distress, fearing he planned to leave you hanging on the precipice once more.
But his ferocious gaze swiftly disabused you of such notions as his eyes roamed over your disheveled and thoroughly ravaged form with naked hunger.
"Get on the fucking table," he barked, already shrugging off his jacket and flinging it carelessly aside. "Hands against the wall where I can watch you try not to scream for me."
An electric thrill zipped down your spine at the unyielding command in his tone, wholly eviscerating your plans to begin pleading once more. You scurried to obey without hesitation, nearly stumbling in your haste to clamber atop the metal table and press yourself against the concrete wall as he'd ordered.
Your fingers splayed helplessly against the rough surface, trembling with equal parts trepidation and frenzied anticipation. Before you could so much as draw your next breath, you felt the rough caress of his palms gliding up the sensitive backs of your thighs, dragging deliciously along your sensitized flesh.
Deftly, his hands hooked under the hem of your skirt and shoved the restricting material up over your hips, bundling it around your waist and leaving you completely exposed to his ravenous stare. Your panties were similarly stripped away with one sharp, impatient tug, ripped off and fluttering forgotten to the floor at his feet.
You whimpered at the vulnerable position he placed you in, undeniably on display for his lavish consumption. Your slick, glistening folds were utterly bare to his intense scrutiny, your arousal undoubtedly coating your inner thighs in a mute testament to your complete desecration under his touch.
"Fuck, look how fucking soaked you are for me," you heard him grate, the growling words punctuated by the crinkle of a foil packet being ripped open behind you. "Like a bitch in heat, just desperate to be bred and pumped full of my seed."
A piteous whimper was your only reply, your arms already trembling with the strain of holding position under the onslaught of his filthy praise. The wet heat between your splayed thighs grew slicker and more insistent with each crude phrase falling from his lips, your body urging you towards the pinnacle of release you craved.
"Hold still," was his only brusque warning before the rounded head of his cock notched itself with unerring accuracy against your weeping entrance.
Then, with one blindingly vicious thrust, he sheathed himself fully inside your scorching, velvet depths.
You cried out in a strangled melange of pained shock and wanton relief as Jay's considerable girth speared into your scorching walls. Not an inch was left unfilled, the stinging burn of your pussy's brutal parting only stoking the inferno raging within you higher.
He gave you no quarter to adjust, no chance to savor the exquisite penetration you'd been yearning for. With a bestial snarl, he immediately set a pace so harsh, so ferocious that your cries evaporated into a mantra of breathless whines.
"F-Fuck...oh god,yes!" Each savage thrust punched the words from your lungs, sweat-dampened palms scrabbling for purchase against the unforgiving concrete. His hands were vicelike on your hips, nails scoring crescent moons into your flesh as he used his brutal grip to yank you back onto his jackhammering cock.
The shock of penetration soon mellowed into a delirious, mind-shredding pleasure that sizzled with delicious friction. Your cunt clenched and fluttered wildly around Jay's invading length, desperately milking him as if to draw his seed from the very depths of his being.
Each wringing constriction of your inner muscles was met with a punitive slap of his hips that jarred you viciously against the unforgiving surface, uncaring of the abrasions and bruises surely blossoming along your front. Every grunt, every profane curse and fragmented exhortation tumbling from his lips in that gravelly rasp only served to incense your lust higher.
"That's it, you cockwhore...fucking squeeze me. Take what you wanted so fucking bad!"
Unable to form any semblance of coherent response, you could only whine and shudder against the merciless onslaught. The tiny bit of give the table permitted allowed Jay to change the angle of his strokes, until he was prodding against that swoolen, ripened knot buried deep at your core.
Blindingly intense rapture ripped through your overwhelmed senses with each brushing against that magic button. A tidal wave of euphoria crested ever nearer, threatening to drag you under into sweet, welcome oblivion.
"Please...please I'm gonna..." You could barely gasp the disjointed pleas, head thrashing in mute entreaty for the release you so desperately craved. To your shock and dismay, Jay reacted by abruptly withdrawing his length from your clenching sheath with an imprecation.
Before you could so much as vocalize your confusion, you were being forcefully manhandled. With enough strength to make your bones protest, he hauled you backwards until your knees impacted the unforgiving tabletop with bruising force.
Your head lolled back helplessly, jaw hanging open and chest heaving with exertion as his hands remained fisted in your hair. The position arched your spine at an obscene angle, leaving your weeping pussy lewdly displayed and utterly vulnerable to his merciless assault.
"Needy little slut" he snarled, dragging two calloused fingertips along your swollen, flushed folds. "You'll come when I tell you to come."
Then, without further warning, he hilted himself to the throbbing root in one punishing snap of his hips.
Your rasping mewl of stunned pleasure was abruptly silenced as Jay's large palm wrapped itself around the slender column of your throat. Not choking, at least not initially, but rather a full-handed vise caging your airway with the mere promise of asphyxiating cruelty.
His fingers clenched almost idly, stealing your breath in erratic, gasping hitches with each languid flex. The lack of oxygen only made you grow lighter-headed, more pliant and malleable as he took his barbaric pleasure from your body.
"Look at you," he sneered in a tone dripping with vicious scorn. "Just a cock-starved set of holes for me to use and discard when I'm done."
Drool leaked freely from the corner of your lax mouth at his degrading taunts, spit pooling obscenely on the surface beneath you. You were utterly helpless to do anything but buck and writhe mindlessly along his pistoning length as he held you perfectly immobilized.
Every slick retreat of his girth granted you only the barest whisper of relief before he would surge forward once more. The squelching cacophony of flesh meeting flesh echoed lewdly, punctuated only by your gurgling whimpers each time the pressure on your airway spiked.
"You wanna come, whore?" His face was a rictus of lust-maddened cruelty looming over you. "Think you've earned the privilege of squeezing down nice and tight on my cock?"
The paltry dredges of your rationality screamed at you that any sounds you attempted to make would be the final wisps of oxygen leaving your lungs. But the insane frenzy of desperation had you nodding frantically anyway, jaw working soundlessly in feverish desperation.
His smirk was absolutely feral as his grip shifted from vise-like to full constriction, crushing your throat with merciless strength. You immediately flushed crimson, vision tunneling to pinpricks as he sustained the pressure beyond the brink of blacking out.
When he did finally release you, it was with a negligent flick of his fingers, as if casually swatting a gnat. You sucked in a ragged, wheezing gale of air, chest lurching violently as you gulped for breath. Only the sound of his gruff laugh grounded you, sharpening your focus back to his hulking frame still buried to the root inside of you.
"Pathetic," he scoffed, giving a rough shove that sheathed himself impossibly deeper. "Gonna have to do better than that if you want my load glazing those pretty little tits of yours."
Your piteous whimper was cut off as a fat rope of saliva abruptly arched from his sneering grin to splatter against your cheek. He shifted his stance, wedging your legs even more obscenely apart as his pace grew more punishing...
The sweat-slick valley of your cleavage bounced and jostled with each violent collision of his hips, your tightly-clenched nipples a shocking crimson against the ivory of your skin. You were nothing more than a plaything, a selfish source of friction for his own gratification as he railed you into insensibility.
And somewhere in the dissolute wasteland of your fractured psyche, you reveled in the abasement of it all.
When his next contemptuous glob of spit landed hot and thick against your parted lips, you instinctively swept your tongue out to lap up the degrading offering. The copper-bitterness of his saliva only seemed to add an extra thrill of shame, your swollen inner walls clenching in feverish spasms around his plunging length.
"That's right, been waiting for you to show me what a greedy little cumslut you are," he taunted hoarsely, punctuating the sneered words with an especially brutal ram of his hips that punched the breath from your lungs and sent stars exploding before your vision.
You were so perilously, achingly close...pleasure building and winding ever tighter like a compressed coil spring. All it would take was one more elemental force to send you careening over that dizzying edge into the abyss of oblivion.
Your surrender must have been scrawled plainly in your lust-glazed features, for Jay's expression twisted into one of wicked triumph. With his free hand, he wound the tangle of your hair around his fist once more, pulling your head back in an excruciating arch that left your throat a taut, tempting column.
His lips brushed the feverish skin there, maddeningly gentle in stark contrast to the feral hammering of his hips as he growled, "Then you'd better fucking come for me, whore."
Before you could so much as process the order, the merciless heel of his palm slammed squarely against your exposed windpipe.
The explosion of pain and asphyxiation was glorious in its intensity. What little remained of coherent thought shattered into a kaleidoscope of white-hot bliss as your world narrowed to his punishing cock and the exquisite torture of his iron grip constricting your airflow.
Even as you choked and thrashed under the debilitating onslaught, the barbaric cadence of his strokes never flagged for an instant. A high, reedy whine you could scarcely believe was issuing from your own abused throat threaded through the darkness encroaching on your consciousness.
Somewhere in the whiting-out tempest of blinding euphoria, you became vaguely aware of the molten clench of your inner muscles fluttering wildly along his invading length. You were cumming...shattering into a million kaleidoscopic fractals of pure, incandescent rapture as your climax crested in a dizzying wave.
The punitive pressure on your windpipe crested in a singular, explosive squeeze right as your release peaked, choking off what little air remained in your lungs. Vertigo and delirious elation conflated into a disorienting vertigo that had you bucking and writhing like a thing possessed.
How long the excruciation of blacking out lasted, you couldn't say. But when the darkness finally receded, you found yourself slumped limply across the tabletop in a sweaty, boneless sprawl. Ribbons of spit and mucosal strands clung obscenely to your gaping mouth and hollow cheeks, utterly debauched proof of your ruination.
A low, raspy chuckle from somewhere above you cut through the lingering cotton wool wrapped around your senses. You managed to crack your eyes open just enough to make out Jay's imposing silhouette looming over your prone form, sleeves shoved up to his elbows and cheeks still hectic with exertion.
"Fuck..." he grunted in a tone caught between disgust and grudging admiration. His large palm connected with your clammy cheek in a dull slap that had your eyes rolling back in a fresh frisson of euphoria. "That's how a desperate little slut begs for my load."
Latent vestiges of his thick, musky arousal still clung to every shallow inhale, overpowering and intoxicating. You instinctively licked your lips to chase the rich, heady flavor even as he threaded his fingers back through your disheveled strands and hauled your head up off the surface with a merciless yank.
At some point, he'd sheathed his still-rigid cock from within your clenching, sloppy depths. The bloated, twisted length hovered mere inches from your slack features, dribbling thick ropes of pearlescent fluid from its bulbous crest onto your tongue as he aimed the final pumping contractions of his release.
"Open up," he growled, the words emerging strained and guttural as he fought the throes of orgasm shuddering through his muscular frame. "Gonna fill that pretty cocksleeve of yours with every fucking drop..."
The commanding rasp of his voice brooked no disobedience, not that you could have mustered anything resembling refusal at this point even if you'd wanted to. No, the taste of his briny, salty issue flooding your palate was the culmination of your most primal desires.
With a sob of pure, wanton bliss, you stretched your jaws wide and allowed Jay to guide his weeping length onto your tongue. You swallowed around the generous streams he pumped directly down your abused throat in reverent, subservient gulps, tears of rapture leaking freely down your ravaged features.
He grunted sharply with each protracted pulse, his balls drawing up tight and tight as he emptied his copious load straight into the succulent hollow of your mouth without mercy. Only once he had drained himself to the very last clinging drop did he withdraw, leaving you to lap and dribble like a bitch in heat at the lingering dregs.
"Messy fucking whore..." was all he seemed able to grind out, his voice sandpaper-rough but utterly sated.
This was not supposed to be this long but i guess m just so horny *-*
#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen park jongseong#enhypen park jay#enhypen jay#jay enhypen#park jongseong#enhypen jay smut#enhypen jay scenarios#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay imagines#jay smut#jay x reader#jongseong smut#jongseong x reader
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hi! please could you do number 7 with the mc having a ghost-related quirk??
decided to quickly write this one just in time for halloween! i hope y'all enjoy this little piece amidst the boop war we all find ourselves in right now lol. thank you for playing n have a nice day <3
(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)
7. "THE GHOSTS WOULD DISAGREE WITH YOU." (1.3k)
“you’re a fucking weirdo, you know that?”
you don’t even look up from the churro you’re munching on, opting to ignore the ash-blonde sitting right next to your left.
“what,” he continues, and if you didn’t know any better, he’s starting to sound a little annoyed. “you’re not even gonna defend yourself?”
what you’re not about to do is tell him you’ve heard that taunt over and over again growing up, lest you end up seeming pitiful, which you aren’t.
so you merely shrug. “i don’t see the point. i know it’s not true.”
at that, you finally glance at the man, who’s looking nothing short of speechless under the dim light of the lounge that’s decked out with ‘spooky’ embellishments.
cute is the first thing that comes to mind.
he just fucking insulted you is the next.
still, you can’t help the smile that takes over your features. “you’re the weird one, anyway. why would you say that to your date?”
bakugou promptly breaks eye contact, choosing to stare at the human skeleton that’s conveniently parked at the corner of the room. you follow his line of vision, and you have to stop yourself from snorting at the sight.
the people manning this haunted house-themed attraction sure took budget decorating to the next level.
beside you, the pro-hero huffs. “i’m only saying that because this is your idea of a good first date,” he gestures vaguely to your surroundings, an incredulous expression on his face as he tosses you a pointed look. “a horror escape room? really?”
“what?” you say, trying to sound the slightest bit defensive for the sake of it. “it gives us plenty of excuses to get closer.”
whatever bakugou expected you to say in response, it surely wasn’t that.
the man only splutters, quickly diverting his gaze and plopping back against his seat with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest like a petulant child.
he then mutters something that you wouldn’t have caught for the life of you if it weren’t for the thing.
you grin.
“you wanted me to latch onto you for safety? you could’ve just said so.”
almost instantaneously, bakugou whips to stare at you, an absolutely horrified expression etched all over his face.
“what the fuck?”
you flash him the most innocent look you can muster. “what?”
he’s now glaring at you, but there’s no missing the redness that has crept up the high planes of his cheeks. he opens his mouth as if to say something but hesitates. he tries again, gaze fixated on you for a couple more seconds until he shakes his head in disbelief.
“…there’s no fucking way.”
you shrug again, but bakugou only stares at you, eyes squinting in suspicion. “unless…”
and, in a blink of an eye you almost could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at him yourself, you see profound realization dawn on his features.
you gulp despite yourself.
“you have a fucking quirk?”
the truth must have been written all over your exterior, because the man leans back in slow motion like the way one would when faced with a relatively shocking revelation.
you rub at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling too self-conscious. this was the part that always made you feel uncomfortable, no matter what the context.
but especially during a first date.
“i never said i was quirkless…”
“yeah, no shit,” he retorts, not missing a single bit. “what is it, superior hearing or something?”
you shake your head slowly, “no, but it does make me privy to things that i don’t perceive with my own senses.”
bakugou’s eyebrows furrow in what you think is confusion. “what else?”
“uh—” you pause, eyes drifting down to your fiddling fingers, “—i can also levitate, be invisible, and permeate through things.”
when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you finally chance a glance at the man, and he’s looking honest-to-god gagged.
pro-hero dynamight is fucking gagged and it’s because of you.
before he can get a word in, though, you quickly follow it up with: “but they make me so nauseous that i can barely pull them off. they’re useless, really.”
when you’re met with nothing but silence, you continue.
“i know,” you chuckle, although it comes out awkward and stilted. “it’s weird. you’re right, after all. i was just messing with you.”
more silence.
not knowing what else to do or say, you take a huge bite of your pastry, although you’re far from hungry, stomach now churning in embarrassment.
you’re in the middle of chewing the remnants of your last bite when bakugou finally speaks up.
now, you’ve heard about how the #9 pro-hero, despite his aggression and temper and generally unpleasant personality, is exceptionally intelligent, perceptive, and intuitive, but you never really thought much about it.
not even when you found out a few hours earlier that the blind date your friends set you up with was your distant superior dynamight himself.
and while you always had a thing for capable men, you didn’t want to fall early and hard lest you hurt yourself in the process. so you merely pushed back against the prejudices and expectations you had of him, and decided to just observe the person who was actually in front of you for the rest of your date.
but when he says the next thing, everything you’ve heard about him suddenly makes sense.
“…so it’s a ghost quirk.”
you don’t even get the opportunity to choke on your churro or gape at him because bakugou shakes his head so fervently, before: “that’s such a fucking waste.”
“e-excuse me?”
at your query, he locks eyes with you. “you have a strong-ass quirk, yet you’re working in admin for us. you could be doing more.”
a thousand questions fight to escape your lips, but what manages to emerge victorious is: “how’d you know i’m working admin for ground riot?”
bakugou scowls at you, but again, there’s that scarlet on his cheeks. he doesn’t answer your question, though, instead going for: “that’s your fucking takeaway?”
you shrug, not knowing what else to say. “i know my quirk is strong. but i was always made to feel like i was weird and creepy for it growing up—and until now, actually, which is why i don’t really talk about it—so i just learned not to use it.”
“well, most of it,” you add, and bakugou cocks his head to the side in question.
you take a shaky inhale.
“…ghosts still choose to talk to me.”
“that how you pick up on things beyond your five senses?”
you try not to gawk at him and at how fast he put two and two together. “…yeah.”
neither of you says anything for a few moments before bakugou finally shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders back.
as he does so, he pipes up with: “well, i guess they’re not always accurate, though.”
you frown. although you rarely use your quirk, you still pride yourself in your capacity. “what do you mean?”
at that, bakugou turns to regard you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. “i did not want you to latch onto me.”
this time, you really can’t help it. you snort, and that grants you a glower from the pro-hero. you take it in stride, though, waving him off.
“sure, big guy.”
“don’t—” he sits up, “fucking—i’m serious—”
“yeah, but the ghosts—” he throws you a punch, which you dodge, “would disagree—” you dodge another, “ with you—” he barely misses you, “—though,” you finally finish.
and really, you don’t even need your trusty ghosts to know that—the blush that’s taken over the entirety of his face is all the proof you need.
#this one took a lot of brain juice in terms of deciding how reader's quirk manifests lol#what the ghosts lip-read and tell reader tho is bkg saying “'s not like that even happened...” re: reader latching onto him for safety#LMAOOO#anw i told myself to keep it at like 500-700 words#look what happened again#sighs#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#mha imagines#mha scenarios#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#bkg#2k milestone drabble
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On the Matter of Mirrors
Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else.
‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed.
But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right?
“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps.
They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.
All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him.
“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.
He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger.
“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender.
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts.
“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”
“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again.
“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”
Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”
It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”
“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope.
Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic.
Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested.
His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss.
He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life.
The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief.
Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”
A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute.
“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge.
Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own.
“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.
“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”
Eddie frowns, suddenly serious.
“You should forget all about Nancy.”
Steve frowns too. “That so?”
“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”
“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”
“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats.
“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget.
When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.
Give us a kudos, if ye dare x
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Relax
Poly!JegulusxFem!Reader
warning: smut
Hi ! This is the first smut fic that I'm more than satisfied with, so I really hope you will enjoy it 💗
English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.
You were stressed.
You were so fucking stressed, that you either weren't even able to function properly due to sleep deprivation, or you were a nightmare to be around, snapping about every little thing.
James and Regulus noticed, obviously.
They always noticed when there was something wrong with you.
Regulus was too observant for his own good, and James had such empathy that he could sense the slightest changes in your mood from a mile away.
And, maybe, the fact that you had literally screamed at an owl for interrupting your studying when the poor bird was just trying to deliver some mail to its owner in the middle of the Great Hall could've been an indicator as well, you weren't sure, really.
So when they basically cornered you in your dorm room, locking the door with a charm and sporting twin expressions of concern, you knew it was probably worse than you had noticed.
“I know, I know. I just need to finish this essay and then I'll be all yours, ok ?” you say as you retrieve the book you need for your paper. You try to walk past them to reach the door but, predictably, they stop you.
“Where do you think you're going ?” James questions, raising an eyebrow.
“To the library James, where else would I be fucking going ?” you snarl.
Regulus gives you a pointed look, and your shoulders sag in response.
You knew you were being a bit difficult to deal with, and hurting the two boys you loved the most in the world was the last thing you wanted. But all the pressure you had been under the past few weeks was catching up to you and you were a ticking bomb ready to explode.
“Sorry. I'm sorry Jamie, but I really need to finish this essay” you say with a pleading look, begging him with your eyes to let you go.
“You've been in the library all day everyday for the past week, Y/n. Don't you think it's time for a break ?” Regulus asks. His voice is so gentle and so delicate that you really just want to curl into a ball and cry.
“I can't” you say sighing “the essay is due Thursday. I only have two days to work on it, I can't afford to waste time” you say as your hands run through your hair in frustration.
“So spending time with us would be time wasted ?” the Gryffindor asks, lifting his eyebrows as a flash of disbelief passes through his eyes.
“Yes !” You scream in anger, and only then you realize the gravity of your words. It takes one look at James’ hurt expression, and Regulus’ cold stare.
“I mean, no ! That's not-” You let out a shaky breath as you sit on the bed, your throat tight. “That is not what I meant, I swear. You know it, you know I didn't mean that”
Your head is hung low and you can't even look at them in the face.
You were feeling like shit, but that didn't mean that you had to make them feel awful too.
You felt guilt crawling up to every fiber of your body.
“I'm sorry, I'm being a bitch” you say, and you feel your eyes start to water, gaze still glued to the floor of your room.
Your eyes fix on Regulus as he kneels down in front of you, searching your gaze until it locks in his, and you're not able to pull away from the stormy gray of his eyes.
“You're not being a bitch, my love. You're just stressed. You need to relax” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear, letting the pads of his fingers dance on the skin of your cheek.
“I'm not stressed, I promise I can manage until-”
“Baby, you told a second year to fuck off because he tripped in front of you, and made you late for class” James says with an humorless chuckle as he sits down on the bed next to you.
Your eyes snap to his, incredulous.
“I- No that's-” you look at him, horrified “Did I ?”
He doesn't answer, but the look of pity and worry on his face tells you everything.
You didn't even remember. And a second year ? They were basically a child. You cussed out a bloody child.
You needed to get a grip, and apologize. Oh, you needed to apologize so much.
“I'm so sorry, I-”
“It's ok, Y/n. Really. You're under a lot of pressure and no one blames you for being a bit snappy, but you need a break” Regulus says, coming up to sit on the bed too, together with you and James.
“But-”
“Let me rectify. You need a break now” he says, and all the protests that were ready to come out of your mouth die in your throat.
“You're right” you say beyond exhausted “and, trust me, I know you are but the essay-”
“Remus will handle it” James says nonchalantly, not even batting an eye.
“What ?” you ask confused, blinking rapidly.
“You two have Divination together, don't you ? He will be more than happy to help you with your paper” he states, grinning slightly.
“But James-” you try to protest. You don't want Remus to do extra work just because you couldn't handle a bit of stress.
“No ‘buts’, darling. He's already on it” he says. His arm lifts up to move your hair from your shoulder, exposing your neck.
“What do you mean he's already on it ?” You ask confused as you try not to shudder at the contact of his fingers with the sensitive skin of your throat. And then your eyes go wide as it clicks on your brain.
Oh, these two.
“You planned this, didn't you ?” you ask, bewildered, as you turn to Regulus.
You would expect something like this from James, sure, he was the king of interventions when something was wrong.
But Regulus ?
Damn, you must've been a real nightmare to be around.
“I told you” he says, inching closer and closer, until your lips are a breath away “you need to relax” he breathes, and then he is kissing you so deeply that the air gets knocked out of your lungs.
His lips are soft, so soft, and needy, and hungry and everything you needed in that moment.
You part your lips and his tongue slips in, caressing yours as he deepens the kiss even more and a soft moan leaves your mouth, because, fucking hell, you missed this, and you missed him and his relentless mouth as it works against yours, and the way his teeth graze your bottom lip, softly, sucking right after in a soothing manner.
And you missed James and his mouth on your neck, where he knew exactly where to kiss, to lick, to gently suck and taste your skin, as more delightful sounds leave your lips, making your head spin, as his wonderful hands travel all over your body and make you squirm and shiver in the best way.
“So this is your idea of relaxation ?” you ask breathlessly as you part from Regulus’ lips only to feel them trace a path from the corner of your mouth, to your cheek, then your jaw, and ending on your neck, on the exact place opposite to James, and he starts licking too. You could swear you were in heaven as breathless whimpers escaped from your kiss bruised lips.
“I'd say it's a pretty good idea, don't you think baby ?” James asks, lifting his head from your neck to inch closer to your mouth.
“Absolutely” you and Regulus answer in a chorus. And you would've laughed in any other situation, really, but then James' lips collided with yours and every thought in your brain just ceased to exist.
It was just him, and his fantastic, amazing, wonderful lips as they chased yours hungrily.
“Shit, I- missed this” you say in between kisses, as soft needy sounds echo through the room.
“Tell us about it” Regulus says with a chuckle, lifting his head from your neck.
His eyes are hazy, as are yours and James’, and his lips are swollen, and red, and plump and-
“Don't be mean Reggie” James says, leaving your lips alone to focus on your jaw. His tone doesn't have any bark, he's just teasing.
“Oh, but you like it when I'm mean, don't you Jamie ?” The Slytherin teases further, and in a heartbeat they're kissing, devouring each other’s mouths like they were starved.
It's a lot of tongue, and a lot of teeth, and a lot of lust and fire, and you were left speechless in front of such a sight.
Salazar only knows how much you had missed this, missed them.
How could you give so much of your time to essays and papers, and neglect the amazing boys you hand in front of you ?
You must’ve been crazy, really.
“Enjoying the show, love ?” James asks with a smirk as he trails kisses down Regulus' neck.
“You know I always do” you say, backing up a bit farther on the bed and taking off your uniform, because there were definitely too many fucking clothes in the way of your 'relaxation'.
“James, baby, your mouth is a gift sent from heaven, trust me” Regulus says, voice shaking from pleasure as he pushes James away gently “but you do remember who this is about, right ?”
“As if I could ever forget” James says with a grin and they both turn to you and notice that you're halfway undressed, the first buttons of your shirt undone and your legs pressed together so embarrassingly tight.
Your cheeks are flushed and your lips are plump and bruised and you're on cloud nine, because after a horrible week full of no Regulus and no James they're now both in front of you, taking each other’s clothes off.
Oh, to be graced by this sight every minute of every day for the rest of your life.
And Merlin, you really need to thank whoever invented Quidditch, because-
“Bloody hell, you both look like you were sculpted by the Gods” you say as your mouth waters. Their bodies are a work of art, two of the seven wonders of the earth. All those lean muscles, slender waists and their backs.
Oh God, their backs.
You wanted to swallow them whole.
Both of them, preferably at the same time.
They grin at your comment, and then they're both on the bed by your side, James on your right and Regulus on your left.
“Speaking of being sculpted by Gods…” James says as his hands go to your shirt to unbutton the remaining buttons, and then Regulus helps you take it off completely, leaving a few open mouthed kisses on your neck as he does.
“Lay back baby, would you ?” the Slytherin asks gently, but his voice is so low and so full of lust and desire that a shiver ripples through your whole body.
You don't even notice James unclasping your bra before your back makes contact with the bed beneath you.
“Oh, look at you. So perfect, so fucking perfect” the Gryffindor whispers on your lips before kissing you and taking you to a whole other world.
You can feel Regulus’ mouth tracing your neck, leaving marks you were sure would be every shade of red and purple by the following day.
He gives attention to every inch of your skin as James makes sure to leave you breathless, and senseless, just by swiping his tongue against yours.
Then you feel Regulus lips on your breast and your head starts spinning, the breath is knocked out of your lungs and moans of pure bliss fill the room.
“Fuck- Reggie-” you whimper on James’ mouth.
Your hand goes to Regulus’ hair, cradling your fingers through it as he delicately sucks on the sensitive skin of your nipple, leaving tiny kitten licks, soft kisses, light grazes of his teeth, and then the gentle suction begins again and you could literally melt.
“Merlin, baby, the sounds you make” James whispers on your lips and then proceeds to make his way down, hovering over your other breast and then diving in, with Regulus’ same gentleness.
The warmth of their mouths on your sensitive skin, the feeling of their back muscles under your hands as you let them roam on their bodies, feeling every curve, every chiseled corner, it was a feeling you missed for a week.
And now it's here, they're here, in front of you, and you could literally die on the spot and be happy.
But they seem to disagree as they both lift their heads up, sharing a languid kiss that makes you even wetter than you already are.
Because, fucking hell, you were drenched since the first time they put their lips on you today.
You went on for so long without feeling their touch that as soon as their skin came in contact with yours your body started burning, finally alive again.
They break apart, slowly, and without saying a word they start going down, and down, and down, leaving open mouthed kisses on your stomach, on your hips, on your thighs.
“You don't have to” you tell them, because really they don't. Up until that moment everything had been about you. You wanted them to feel good too. You wanted to make them feel good.
“But we want to” Regulus says as he leaves kisses on your inner thigh. Soft, gentle, delicate kisses. James does the same on your other thigh.
“Do you want to ?” the Gryffindor asks, slightly lifting his head from your thighs to see your answer.
“I really fucking do” you admit, your hands in their hair, fingers cradling softly through their locks.
“Perfect” says Regulus, inching closer and closer to where you need him, need them, the most “now be a good girl, and keep your legs spread for us, ok ? Don't think about anything. Let loose baby, you deserve it”
And then he dives in, licking a long strip along your folds as your world shakes with the power of ten thousand earthquakes.
The moan you let out could probably be heard from a mile away, but you couldn't give less than a shit, because Regulus is eating you out like it's his last meal. He's ravenous, and eager, and gentle at the same time, and so so good, and-
“Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck” your curses mix with whimpers and moans and you never want it to stop, ever. You wish you could remain in this bliss for eternity.
And then Regulus opens his mouth.
“James, James, Jamie, come here love” he says breathlessly. Mouth covered in your essence and eyes hazy and a fucked out expression on his face.
You swear you could come on the spot.
James, who had been busy worshiping your thighs, doesn't let Regulus tell him twice.
At the feeling of James’ tongue right on your little bundle of nerves they're so familiar with, you see stars, you see whole new universes.
“Fuck- you taste so good, baby” he moans.
“So sweet”
“So fucking sweet”
You arch your back as moans keep tumbling out of your lips.
You're breathless, a mass of choked out sounds and incoherent words. You're burning alive, the fire in your veins so strong and powerful that you feel like you could melt.
And then you make the mistake of looking down at them, right between your thighs, as they feast on your pussy like they were born for it.
“Oh, fuck- I'm-” you don't even have the time to finish your sentence because both their tongues are on that sweet sweet spot that makes you see stars, sucking gently, and in a heartbeat the coil in your tummy snaps and you not only see stars, you see an entire galaxy.
Finally, after a week of pure torture, you find yourself in heaven with the two most beautiful angels right between your thighs.
Your breath is ragged, you're breathing heavily, and you're the most relaxed and content you had ever been in the past few days.
Your body feels like jelly, your legs shaking slightly.
You must've zoned out a bit after the most earth-shattering orgasm you've had in a while, because James and Regulus were now laying next to you, gently caressing your hair in a soothing manner.
“Welcome back” James says with the most beautiful smile ever.
“Was I out for long ?” you ask, blinking slowly.
The three of you are under the covers now, still very naked, and still very happy.
“Ten seconds max” Regulus tells you, his eyes soft, a fond expression on his face.
Merlin, he's so beautiful.
They're both so beautiful.
“You can sleep, love, it's okay” the Gryffindor says, as he softly strokes your cheek with the pads of his fingers.
“But-”
“Everything is clean, we took care of it, as always” Regulus interrupts you sweetly.
You really had the best boyfriends in the world.
“God, I love you so much” you say sincerely.
“Oh, really ? Wouldn't have guessed that. What do you say, Reg ? Did you notice ?” James says teasingly as a grin grows on his lips.
“Would've never been able to guess, honestly” says the Slytherin, equally as teasing James.
“You twats, I was being serious” you say and then you realize your mistake.
“Don't you even try to make that joke right now” you warn them, especially James, who makes the gesture of zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key, but he has the stupidest most adorable smile on his face.
“We love you too, darling” says Regulus “but I think you should sleep now. It's getting late”
“Will you stay here ?” you ask, hopeful.
“Of course, love” James assures you.
And that's how you fall asleep that night.
In a tangle of limbs and bodies, between your two very personal angels.
Divination essay long forgotten.
#marauders#marauder's era#the maraunders map#harry potter#james potter#regulus black#sirius black#remus lupin#lily evans#marlene mckinnon#mary macdonald#smut#marauders smut#polyamory#barty crouch junior#evan rosier#dorcas meadowes#pandora rosier#slytherin skittles#gryffindor#slytherin#james potter x reader#regulus black x reader#regulus black x james potter#regulus black smut#james potter smut
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Rookie Mistakes
Pairing: RE2!Leon x Sergeant fem!Reader
Summary: When Leon seems distracted and makes a mistake during a call, you ensure your rookie gets his head together as his sergeant.
Content/Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements. Femdom/msub. Praise kink. Slight degradation. Needy/subby Leon. Oral sex. Fingering. Handjob. Office Sex. Slight age gap (reader is older at around 25, Leon is 21).
WC: 4.7k
Notes: Finally this is out. I know I know, I'm a liar! But, I had fun with this one, so I hope you like it. Shoutout to the babe @cinnarette for beta reading this and giving me her approval lolz. Anyways, reblogs & comments are always appreciated!
Leon had always been one to find the good in a shitty situation. Someone with a warm heart that matched the moral compass he developed despite the constant bullshit he experienced daily.
From his hectic childhood to his experiences in the police academy, he had to overcome many trials and tribulations on his own with nobody in his corner. All of those struggles to get the pure sense of relief once he felt his diploma in his hand made all the stress worth it.
When he first arrived at the R.P.D., he didn’t know what to expect. The anxiety of starting fresh in a new city with a new career clouded his mind with a paranoia he seemed to carry in his youth. Walking into the police department he’d call his new home, Leon was fairly surprised to be greeted with a welcome party.
Balloons and confetti filled the common room as he moved around the crowd, bombarded with introductions and greetings as he tried to memorize the names that were thrown his way. Still, the small games and blue cake he indulged in brought a smile to his face, topped off with the polka-dotted party hat he was forced to wear and the words Welcome Leon hung up on the ceiling for him to see.
What Leon didn’t expect was to be assigned to your personal detail the next day. A police sergeant on the force, a bit older, no more than 25 he first assumed, more refined and seasoned with one hell of a glare. First impressions? He was terrified, nervous as hell to fuck anything up seeing how you ran a tight ship, taking your job too seriously for comfort. Of course, you had to. You were working in a male-dominated field, forcing yourself into a mold so you could be taken seriously by those around you.
He took his hand out when being introduced to you, unstable grip and a nervous smile to match as he looked directly into your intimidating gaze. You shook his hand firmly, the strength of your grasp parallel with the small grin you offered him almost made a shiver roll down his spine.
“So you’re the new rookie huh? Well, it’s nice to see a fresh face in here. We have some serious work to do. Let’s get started.”
-
You were particular about how you wanted things done, very precise in your words and your delivery. A harsh leader, one who easily reprimanded the other rookie officers but was particularly picky with Leon. In a way, he started to feel like you were targeting him, pressuring him so he would crack and leave the force. He knew he couldn’t leave, that this was the career path he chose, and he was too anxious to say anything so he’d let it slide.
You didn’t let up on his training either, always making sure your rookie was on top of what was expected of him. The slight fear Leon had when first meeting you quickly turned into admiration. His stress-induced feelings morphed into respect, now wanting to learn everything you had to show him.
That was when it started. Leon now tried any little thing to get in your good graces, to see even the slightest sign of a smile or to hear you laugh. He started coming to work earlier to help with the case filings you had piled on your desk, organizing them the way you taught him whenever you assigned him grunt work. He wanted you to take a breather and start your day with a clear head, maybe even enjoy your coffee for a bit longer.
When you saw how tidy your work environment was, you went up to Leon who you saw was typing away at his desk diligently. His head lifted up to look at you, blue eyes glancing over your face to read your expression.
“Morning. By any chance, did you fix all the files on my desk?”, you asked curiously, making the blonde rub the back of his neck shyly.
“Yeah, I did. Wanted to help you out a bit and give you an early start to the day” he responded, silently hoping you wouldn’t be upset at him for entering your workspace. Instead, he was met with your look of genuine surprise, followed by a twinkle of gratitude.
“Thank you for that, I appreciate it. Keep up the good work Leon”, you praised him, offering a small smile, one that he made sure to burn into his memory.
“Yes ma’am”, his face was practically beaming at your words as he watched you walk back towards your office, trying to hide the sudden warmth flooding his cheeks.
Your words kept repeating in his head nonstop throughout the entire day. Not only did you acknowledge him in a positive light, you also addressed him by name, which was rare. He was more present at work, his posture straighter, and more eager to help. From that point on, he made it his mission to make sure his sergeant was stress-free, doing anything to see you smile at him again.
Working with Leon, you quickly learned that he was perceptive. A smart cookie, and probably the smartest one out of the current bunch of recruits. Despite the tough love you gave him, especially because he was your professional responsibility, he was the only one truly receptive to your teachings. Like a sponge, he took in everything you gave with a certain wonder you hadn’t seen in anyone else. It was cute really, how he was so ambitious and doing his best to get your approval.
What you liked the most about working with Leon was how he addressed you. He took your authority seriously, seeing someone in charge instead of your appearance. He didn’t say your name, not your first or last out of respect, but rather he always addressed you as Ma’am. You never had someone say that to you directly, thinking it makes you sound older than you actually are. But with the way his eyes warmed up when he’d say it with full confidence, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop.
-
Over the next few weeks, Leon became part of your daily routine, integral to the start of your day. He’d walk in a few minutes early as expected, with two coffee cups in his hands as he waited for you outside your office. Spotting the top of your head coming from speaking to the chief, you were heading his way. You had the same soft smile reserved just for him, one that he always looked forward to seeing when you worked together.
“Got you your usual”, he offered one of the cups to you, your fingers lightly grazing his when taking the warm concoction into your hand.
“Extra caramel?”
“With oat milk, vanilla and cinnamon. I triple checked”, he said enthusiastically, observing you as you sipped the drink. A soft hum escaped you while you closed your eyes in satisfaction.
“You know how to spoil me”, you gave him a wider smile now, seeing how his cheeks blushed the slightest bit at your expression. His reaction made you chuckle, a sound he’s come to enjoy the more time you two spent together.
“Now come on, we need to work on this case before we patrol at 12. The chief’s on my ass again so let’s get this over with before lunch yeah?”, and without fail, he’d give you the same ending response every time.
“Yes ma’am”
The more you invested in Leon’s skills, the more you realized small things about him that were fairly telling. You weren’t stupid. Anyone with a brain could see that the respect and admiration he had for you was turning into something else entirely. You could tell with every passing moment you had with him, noticing how the tension between the two of you would get thicker after every interaction. You didn’t comment on it. Instead, you enjoyed toying with him, a part of your ego feeding off on how he’d say yes ma’am in such a way that would make you want to hear it more often.
The faint touches between the two of you got more frequent. Your fingers would brush his during the exchange of files, you saw how he’d always be within a hair’s distance when standing near you. Moments spent training in the shooting range were where the intimacy seemed to skyrocket, putting your hands on Leon’s arms to keep his form up as he shot towards his target.
You didn’t need to do that. Leon was a good shot, accurate too. But you enjoyed the way he released a shaky breath whenever you were close to him or touched him, how the tips of his ears reddened when you praised him for hitting the bullseye.
In one certain instance when the R.P.D. was extra busy, you were being hammered with files and administrative work. The coffee sitting on your desk was no longer doing its job of waking you up, and the constant bombardment of having to organize new information was starting to make your head pulse. You stood up from your seat to give your back a break, bending backward until you felt a satisfying crack in your spine. Hearing a knock at your door that brought your attention, you noticed Leon on the opposite end.
“Hey, my bad if I caught you at a bad time. The investigators wanted to review those files on that drug bust we did yesterday, something about missing information”
“Oh yeah yeah, it’s right behind me. Hell, I don’t even know where I put it”, you turned to face the mess behind you, lamenting at the stack of files you have yet to sort through today.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll look for it. You stay focused on what you’re doing”
Just like that, Leon came over behind you, going through the files while you stayed reading over the papers in your hand. The both of you made quick conversation, commenting on how busy it became. The increase of instances flooding the department only added more to your workload. Leon kept digging through the pile, turning his body to go to the other side of you.
In the process, he put a hand on your hip and muttered an apology, slightly making you jump and walking behind you to go to your left side. You tried to pay no mind to the gentle touch, going back to refocusing on the case at hand. He found the document folders he needed, suddenly too close to your body when the second he turned, you moved backward into him. Leon’s hips pressed against your rear, his hands reaching toward your hips instinctively despite the hitch in his breath at the contact.
“S-shit, I’m sorry…”, he mumbled, cheeks flushed red as he walked out of your office. You didn’t get a word in, but his reaction was enough to tell you about what you already knew.
The ghost of his touch filled your mind for the rest of the day, and it was worse for Leon. He tried so hard not to think about it. Not to fantasize about how your hips would feel bouncing against his with force, what you’d sound like when you’re aroused. It was practically impossible for him. His imagination went haywire the second he got home, jerking himself off to relieve the hard-on he’s been managing since earlier this afternoon.
He couldn’t get the image out of his head. He thought about how you’d praise him, call him a good boy for making you feel good. Deep down, he wondered if you were equally as authoritative in the bedroom as you were outside of it. As he released all over his hands with a whine, he sighed to himself, fully aware that he had reached the point of no return with his own thoughts about you.
-
It was a Tuesday afternoon when both of you were assigned to handle two suspects committing a robbery. Called to the scene, you trailed them down to a nearby commercial street. They were careless too, throwing their guns halfway into the chase and the items they stole slipping from their grasp onto the concrete floor. Catching them felt easy, handcuffing one to the ground and throwing him to the backseat of your cop car. Leon seemed to be distracted, with what you didn’t know. When the second thief seemed to slip from his grasp and started to make a run for it, you knew he needed to get his act together.
“Get your head out of your ass Kennedy! Before I put my foot up there instead. Now move!”, you ordered him to get back into the patrol car. Turning on the police siren, you drove to track down the next suspect and apprehended them with quickness.
The drive to the station was quiet besides the two handcuffed men grumbling behind you. Leon kept his mouth shut, refusing to look your way, and focused on listening to the chatter on the radio. He knew you were pissed, and he didn’t know what had gotten into him today but he couldn’t focus for the life of him. The nagging voice in the back of his mind was telling him to be prepared for the worst, because he fucked up, and worse yet, he fucked up with you.
After bringing the two robbers down to the precinct, you couldn’t erase the irritation from your face. You couldn’t even look at Leon, upset that someone like him after so much training made such a rookie mistake. You only offered a glare, knowing for a fact you’d have to talk to him later on when your temper wasn’t so flared up. For now, you made Leon sit at his desk to do filing work, deciding not to berate him in front of the other officers and saving him the embarrassment.
Knowing you were giving him the silent treatment, he avoided you for the rest of the day, staying late at the R.P.D. in hopes of being able to talk to you. Leon drummed his fingers on his desk absentmindedly, until you came up behind him and got his attention.
“Kennedy, to my office. Now”, your tone of voice was harsh, making the hairs on Leon’s neck rise as he got up to follow you back to your workspace.
You locked the door once the both of you were inside, leaning back against your desk with your tactical belt off so your hips pressed against the wooden edge. Arms crossed over your chest, your head raised at the cop before you, watching his feet anxiously moving as he looked at the floor with slight shame.
“I want to know what happened out there. You messed up, and that’s not like you. You don’t make rookie mistakes anymore, we’re passed that”, you started to speak. Leon’s gaze was pinned on you, trying to hide his humiliation but it was clear as day.
“I know. I know I fucked up, it was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry”
“Yeah, it was. I didn’t invest all this time in training you personally for you to let things like this slip. You’re better than this, you know that”, your tone changed from irritation to concern, trying to get him to see the bigger picture.
“You’re my responsibility, Leon. I’m this harsh and this strict for a reason, and it’s because I care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a shit what happened to you, but I do. This reflects back on me, so just get your head together alright?”, you saw how his brows furrowed a bit in slight confusion at your confession.
You cared about him.
“Yes ma'am. It won’t happen again, I really am sorry”, his hands started to fumble with his tactical belt.
“I know you are, but sorry’s not gonna cut it. I can’t have you distracted like this. Not on my watch”, you said, now walking from the desk until you stood in front of him. He didn’t move a muscle, not knowing what else to do besides stand there.
“If you’re really sorry you’re going to have to prove it. You’re not getting off that easy. You got that rookie?”, your eyes held that intimidating stare that made Leon tense, you could practically hear him gulp.
“I-I understand ma’am. Whatever it takes I’ll do it.”, he was still oblivious, having no idea what he just got himself into but he wasn’t complaining, not when you were this close to him. Your hand went up towards his belt, a singular finger curving into one of the loops to yank his body forward. Now standing chest to chest he shivered at the close contact, holding his breath and waiting for your next words.
“You’re gonna use your pretty mouth to prove that you won’t mess up like that again. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll think about being nice and rewarding you. That okay?”, your words were laced with pure temptation, making Leon nod, too scared to speak up. He didn’t know what to expect, but lord if he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it.
“Use your words baby”
“Yeah, f-fuck it’s okay”, he was shaking in front of you, a blush on his cheeks so intense you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.
“Can I kiss you?”, you tilted your head up towards him, his warm breath against your lips as the ends of your noses touched.
“Please do…”
You didn’t waste another second, lips colliding against his as Leon finally released the breath he was holding. He let you take control, his mind turning to complete mush at just the feel of your mouth against his. Tongues dancing together, you ran your fingers through his hair, his own hands going to paw at your hips. He released needy faint moans, holding on to you as if you were going to leave him any second now. When you pulled away from him and bit his bottom lip he whimpered, a sound you didn’t expect him to make. You fucking loved it.
You walked backward while he followed you on jittery legs. With your back now pressed against the desk again, Leon’s face dug into your neck, leaving a path of kisses in a way that made you chuckle. His hands were everywhere, overwhelmed with what to do or where to touch. You brought your fingers into his hair again, giving him a soft yank as he groaned out from the action. Pupils already dilated, you eyed him closely, how he seemed so far gone when you haven’t even started.
“You want to be good for me Leon?”, your voice was soft, almost patronizing and it only made Leon’s dick pulse in his pants.
“Yes, I wanna be good for you. Don’t want you mad at me”, Leon pouted, and you fought the urge to kiss him again.
“Then get on your knees and start working on your apology”, you commanded, watching how he bit his lip and nodded.
“Yes ma’am”, he was already shifting down to the ground, diligent fingers on the button of your cargos and undoing them, while you threw your shoes off.
Pulling the zipper down, he started to drag the fabric to your knees until it hit your ankles, pants discarded to the side and leaving you in your panties. Sitting on top of the desk, his eyes looked up at yours, coming face to face with where you wanted him most.
His large hands moved from your shin to your knee, then towards your thigh and hip to hook his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, noting the wet patch that was already staining the cotton material. He dragged them down with ease until they hung at your ankle, lifting one of your thighs onto his shoulders to admire all of you with a soft moan.
“Can I taste you? Please?”, he mumbled against your thigh with a soft kiss. He was already playing the part so well, offering him a smirk as you drank in the way he begged you for more. You didn’t even have you train him.
“Yeah baby, you can”
Without hesitation, his mouth made contact with your body, the taste of your wetness filling his tongue and making his chest rumble. It was better than he imagined, moving his tongue up and down against your slit to collect the developing slick. You released a low hum from your lips, already pent up from the stress of your job and your day, now having your favorite rookie tending to you on your orders.
Leon was anything if not keen, tongue lavishing against your throbbing clit and his lips circling around it as he began to suck. You threw your head back at that, hand holding his head in place and hips moving towards him shamelessly. He was grunting under his breath, growing obsessed with the way your body twitched anytime he touched you just right.
“You’re doing so good Leon, so damn good for me”, you praised him again, feeling the sounds he’d release when you did talk to him. It was debauched, how his senses were filled with just you with no end in sight.
This was how you wanted to see him. On his knees and eager to please.
His attention went back to your opening, feeling it flex around nothing with every flick he gave you. Inserting his tongue into your cunt, your hips arched towards him again, moaning louder than you anticipated.
You were silently thankful your office was a bit farther away from the rest of the department, and being it was later at night, you didn’t have to hide much of anything. You moved Leon’s face closer to your body with a pull of his head, clit pressed against his nose as he sucked at your essence greedily, taking in everything he could get.
A warmth started to develop in your gut, pleasure like liquid fire making your body twitch. The high you so desperately craved was in near sight, grinding yourself against Leon’s face and using him to get off. He didn’t object, moving his mouth to suck at your clit again, two fingers teasing your entrance before inserting them inside. You cursed under your breath, the dual sensation of Leon’s fingers curling against your g-spot and his consistent sucking brought you closer to your much-needed climax.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum”, you could almost taste your release right at the edge of your tongue, could imagine the way it would feel to finally let go.
You looked down to watch Leon at work, how he’d pump his fingers at just the right pace, how his eyes grew hazy with pleasure when they looked up at you.
With one soft nip at your clit your release hit you full force, a small squeal leaving your lips as your gummy walls clenched around his fingers. Your grip on the desk and his hair were both tight, knuckles turned white as stars filled your vision. Leon kept moving his fingers and mouth the whole way through your orgasm, groaning loudly against you and refusing to stop. He couldn’t get enough of you or your taste, forcing you to pull his head away before the overstimulation made it too much to handle.
The both of you were panting, eyes widening when Leon pulled his digits away and inserted them into his mouth to lick off what remained of you. You pulled him up towards his feet, dragging him down to kiss you again and chasing your own taste that flooded his tongue. If you weren’t on a time crunch, you would’ve gladly let him go down on you again.
“Did I do good ma'am? Do you feel good?”, Leon asked, thumbs rubbing your trembling thighs as you came down from your high, flushed face waiting for your approval.
“Yes, you were so fucking good for me. You ate my pussy so well”, your words made him smile then, a dopey lopsided grin that seemed to ease his doubts from earlier.
“I think you deserve a little reward now. You want some help with that pretty boy?”, your eyes gestured to the tent in Leon’s pants, looking up at him from your long lashes.
“God, please touch me”, he begged then, blue eyes engulfed in pure lust.
You didn’t want to tease him any longer, undoing his pants and slipping your hand inside. With a gasp he felt your fingers wrapping around his cock that pulsated with need, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to cum either. He had been on the edge for too long, imagining you like this for what seemed like months. You pumped him, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb against his slit, feeling the precum that was already making a mess in his briefs.
“You get hard when you have your superior’s pussy in your face huh? You like being used like that baby?”
“Y-yes, yes I do. God I fucking love it”, he nodded dumbly. “Love the way you taste, the way you feel…”, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, mind so blurred with just you that he was losing track of time and himself.
You smirked, kissing his neck and pressing your lips against the mole on his throat. Leon swallowed, hands pressing into your thighs for stability but he was so close to losing it. He thrusts his hips up into your hand, chasing his own high and you gladly let him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and biting at the lobe. The sounds Leon released were downright pornographic, whines and lewd wet sounds filling your office.
“S-shit I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please ma'am, I’m so close”, he begged again, his cock throbbing and hot in your hand as he spoke. He bucked his hips more into your squeezing fingers, your pace picking up as you jerked him off more persistently. He felt like he could barely breathe, the prickly feeling in his lower spine getting more prominent the closer he got to his orgasm.
“Be a good boy and cum for me Leon. I want to see you cum baby”, it was your final order, and those words alone were his undoing.
His body shook above you when he fell over the edge, his lower stomach flexing hard as he came all over your fingers. He cursed and whimpered, an array of thank yous were said against your neck, hands pressed into your thighs hard enough to bruise your skin. His cum dribbled out of him as his body jerked, still pumping him to the point of sensitivity. He clutched your wrist to signal you to stop, half-lidded eyes looking at yours that filled with mischief.
You took your hand off of him and licked the remaining fluids, purring at the taste of him filling your mouth. Leon bit his lip when watching you, already starting to feel his dick twitch again for more.
He leaned down towards you, kissing you hard and chasing his taste, just like how you did with him. The eroticness of it all overwhelmed him, rasping against you as you pulled away. You looked over his face, cheeks flushed pink and lips plump from their usage. You burn that image into your mind, saving it for later when it would be more helpful.
“No more distractions or mistakes from here on out Leon. You come to me if you need to clear your head. Understood?”, he released a dry chuckle, placing another kiss against your lips, much softer than before. The intimacy made your chest warm, your smile matching his own.
“Yes ma’am”
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#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon smut#leon x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy fanfic#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#re2 smut#re2 x reader#re2 leon#re2 leon x reader#re2 leon kennedy#resident evil fanfic#resident evil smut#ovaryacted fics#⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆
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hi can u do headcannons (or a fic idm) of like people pleaser!reader and bf!matt who like stands up for her or tells people off on her behalf?
I really hope this makes even the slightest bit of sense
thank you so much, I love ur writing sm🤍🫶🏼
people pleaser!reader x matt headcannons!
(I have never done hcs ever, so if its bad thats mb, also I didnt know if you wanted nsfw but I js didnt bc I dont rllt know how to nsfw people pleaser x matt but if tou want me to retry it dont hesitate to ask!!)
warnings: angst, swearing
a/n: I dont rlly know how to write people pleasers and such so thats why its short, but I can try again if you’d like, I also love this idea, thank you anon!! <33
~
- the second someone pushes you around and or walks all over you hes quick to shut it down.
“alright listen man, it was one thing when you told her to fuck off, but telling her to shut the fuck up is another. I need you to leave.”
- when matt notices that someone is using you to their advantage or even notices you going out of your way to please them on several occasions hes getting it done and over with, quick.
“okay. enough y/n, come sit with me. you dont need to do everything for that asshole, k?”
^ he made sure to say it extra loud so the guy heard what matt had said about him.
- after matt had told someone off for being rude to you, you sat down next to him with your head hung low and your eyes filled with tears of guilt.
“baby, whats wrong?” he asked, his arm coming over to your back and rubbing your shoulder.
“that wasnt nice of you to yell at him.. look at him, I feel guilty now.” you spoke, your voice slightly shaky as you motioned to the man whom was anxiously biting his lip with his mouth closed shut, after matt had told him to keep it shut.
“it also wasnt nice of him to yell at you and call you names, was it?” he grumbled, just looking at the guy made him angrier, especially knowing you felt bad for him.
- “no, no, if you want me to. I can!” you spoke, a soft smile on your face as you talked to the girl infront of you, in which the girl had a smirk on her face, catching onto your patterns.. doing anything for the sake of pleasing her.
matt, on the other hand, stood behind you and glared at the girl, his jaw clenching with pure irritation. matt cleared his throat, trying to get the girls attention. and once her eyes met his he brought his hand up and flipped her off.
- in ways of showing you he wasnt happy with what you were doing he’d do subtle motions with his hands or look at you a certain way. you’ve learned that his jaw clenched tightly shut and his eyes glaring at you, then a quick look at the person you were currently giving your everything, is a way of him indicating he wanted you stop what you were doing.
- watching you adapt someone elses personality to try and seem more approachable and less weird truly angers him, despite knowing he cant do anything about it. he feels you should know that you’re perfect just the way you are and dont need to be accepted by everyone, they should like you for who you are.
- “oh..” you mumble, your head hung low as somone insults you and your interests. you cant say anything nor do anything, its not in your nature. you just have to sit there and take it, in fear of disappointing them. and since matt wasnt with you, there wasnt any way in stopping the next few minutes of being insulted.
later that day, when you come home your cheeks are tear-stained, you have mascara running down your cheeks and your breathing is uneven.. theres no way in hell you’re hiding this from matt. you take gentle steps as you walk to his room, slowly pushing his door open and taking small sniffles.
with hearing the door creak open matts lips turn into a grin, that is, until he lifts his head up to the sight of you, looking like you just bawled for hours on end. he quickly tosses his phone on his bed and walks over to you, engulfing you in his arms. already knowing what was going on he didnt ask anything, instead just comforted you.
- “ok! im fucking tired of your shit dude! you’ve been bossing, walking all over her, degrading and just overall being a total dickhead to her!” matt yelled, finally getting enough of this kid being rude to his girlfriend. he stood up from his chair and walked over to carlos. he stood tall and high infront of him. y/n moved behind matt and grabbed his hand, holding it and lightly squeezing, at an attempt to calm him down.
“matt, baby, its okay. im fine. dont yell at him.” y/n whispered, your voice quiet as you spoke. you avoided eye contact with carlos. “no, its not okay! hes being a total asshole to you, y/n. you dont deserve to be treated like that.” he turned around to face you. his voice no longer being loud as he spoke with sincerity towards you.
- you being treated rudely didnt always end up with him yelling at someone. when he wasnt fuming with anger, he would grab your hand and hold it, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, then pull you into him, in a sense of protection and to tell you ‘enough’ without speaking.
- matt would act almost immediately when he even sees the beginning signs of you starting to act and do everything possible for the person you’re talking to. he would lean down in your ear and mumble quietly, “relax, my love.”
- again, he would make sure to be extra loud about shit talking someone when calling you over to him just to make sure that they know what matt thinks of them.
“cmon baby, that poor excuse of a friend doesnt deserve you.”
“hes being an asshole, my love. dont suck up to him.”
tags
@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns
#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#the sturniolo triplets#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt girl#matt#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo triplets fanfic#headcannons#hcs#matt sturniolo angst#angsty#angst ig#angst#light angst#mollys requests
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missing piece
logan (james) howlett x reader
the record player was playing One piece at a time, your favorite song, occasionally letting out a soft sound of scratching against the vinyl. the bar was crowded and everybody seemed to have a good time. the 70's may become your favorite decade. you've been alive for over a hundred years now but you liked everything about this era; the music, the clothes and the recklessness of it.
you were currently seated at the bar, drinking whatever the bartender had offered you. the guy had been hitting on you all evening, and you figured that free drinks couldn't hurt since your healing factor would keep you from getting drugged. you liked the attention anyway, your ex lover had disappeared on a random tuesday and never came back home. it had been four years since you had last seen him, you weren't mad at him anymore, but more at yourself for thinking a man could keep his promises. so some compliments were always welcomed.
you were watching people dance, the festive atmoshpere filling a void in your chest. whenever you felt alone you would go to a bar, or a pub just to feel something. in those places, time seemed to stop, you could be invisible. nobody cared about you or asked anything from you. sometimes you would dance with a random girl or guy and end up in their motel room just to sneak out the second they fell alseep. you were conscious that this lifestyle wasn't for everybody. in fact, you didn't enjoy it in the slightest. but you didn't have a choice. you didn't have any family anymore, and the only person that counted took off 4 years ago. you didn't work and your only hobby was drinking. you weren't living, but barely surviving. but with time you get used to it, right?
right as when you were about to get up to dance, someone sat next to you. too close for your liking. you turned your head and were met with a drunk looking guy, staring at you like you were some piece of meat. you gave him a look that meant "get the fuck out of here and leave me alone" but he didn't seem to want to comply.
"hello pretty girl, need some company?" he said, or at least that's what you understood. his breath hit your nose and you almost threw up; your heightened senses could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.
"go fuck yourself" you said, walking toward the back door. the guy following you.
"I think I'll need some help with that, my girl" he said, trying to catch up with you. you ignored him, or at least he thought so, and went through the back door, making sure he was still behind you. once you found yourself in a small alley, you grabbed him by the collar and pushed him brutally against the wall.
"I am not your girl" you threatened. the dickhead tried to answer but with your hands on his throat the task seemed more difficult than usual. you hated this petname, it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. you let go of him, letting him fall to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. that wasn't necessary but he deserved it.
you went back inside, planning on gathering your things and then finding a place to sleep. you folded your jacket on your arm and put your pack of cigarettes in your pocket. but as you turned toward the door, your heart stopped. a familiar face looking at you from the crowd. at first you thought you were hallucinating, the fucker was dead. you hoped he would be. it would hurt less. but when he started coming closer you scoffed.
you couldn't do it without a drink, so you sat back and asked for straight tequila. you missed this vanishing feeling the night procured you.
logan sat next to you and asked for a drink. you refused to look at him. you wanted to punch him in the face, alright maybe you were still a little mad at him. seeing him here, and so close to you made you mad. you wanted to kill and kiss him.
"I missed you" he said, looking afar. out of all the things he could have said you weren't expecting this. you scoffed and tightened your grip on your drink.
"shut your damn mouth" you gritted through your teeth, still holding onto your drink for dear life. you had imagined what it would be like to see him again and promised to yourself that you would tell him you moved on and leave him speechless. you never thought you still loved him so deeply. you hated how he made you feel, you hated feeling weak. but you loved everything else about him, and if feeling vulnerable was the price to pay to be with him then you wouldn't think twice about it.
"I didn't have a choice" he added, this made your blood boil. you knew he was telling the truth and you had already forgave him, you just needed to hear him say it. you didn't say anything, didn't ask about the reason of his departure. you kept your mouth shut, hoping he would take the hint and leave. no you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to think that you wanted him to leave.
"I’m sorry” he muttered. this was your last straw, your glass broke between you fingers, shards of glass flying all over the counter and cutting into your hand. you jumped, startled at your own doing. logan reached for your hand immediately but you moved it away before he could even brush it.
"fuck you" was the last thing you said before running to the bathroom. your healing factor was already pushing the glass out of your flesh but it still hurt as hell.
“let me help you” you hadn’t even hear him coming in. you smiled, amused at the situation. you terribly wanted to give him your hand but your pride told you otherwise.
“why are you here?” you whispered, almost scared that if you spoke louder he would disappear.
“I told you, I miss you”.
“of course you do, that's why you came back so quickly” you said, washing the blood off your hand. “I just know you were bored to death without me" you joked, trying to ease the tension.
logan approached and slowly put his hands on your waist, your back facing him. he then delicately planted his chin on your shoulder. “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I did this to protect you and that’s fair but I need you by my side, I need my girl” you swore you heard a sob in his voice. you looked up, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could see logan’s head next to yours he was looking at you. this was the first time you’ve look into his eyes since he left. and they felt like home.
you turned around slowly, facing him. you hands claimed back their place on either side of his face. wiping his tears. seeing logan cry was rare, extremely rare. you felt your heart broke at the sight. he put his hands on yours and closed his eyes, enjoying how your touch felt like after so many years. nothing changed, not his love for you nor what he felt around you.
“let me take you home” he begged
“where?”
“doesn’t matter, home is whenever I’m with you”
you knew that your james was telling the truth, and you knew that you still loved each other.
"I need time, james" you answered, even if your mind was already made you had some self respect. you were about to say something else but logan beat you to it:
“I love you” he breathed.
you kissed him passionately, making up for all the lost kisses.
"I love you most"
you were still upset about what he did, but at the end of the day, you knew he did it for a good reason and that it hurt him maybe even more than it did you, and you certainly couldn’t imagine life without him.
you both cried into the kiss, silently promising to always be on each other's side.
"come on, let's get out of here"
#logan howlett x reader#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman#logan howlett fluff#wolverine x reader#xmen fanfiction
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Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings PT.2
Warnings: Serial killer Daryl, Daryl kills two men who tried to hurt you, rough smut, human hunting, hunting reader through woods, Daryl is mean cause killer (but soft after) soft dubcon but NO noncon
Summary: Part two to the killer!Daryl fic. Reader finds out about Daryl's favorite pastime, and he hunts her down after she runs off.
Notes: Sorry this took so long I didn't have my adhd meds and I couldn't focus on it for more than five minutes at a time. Again, I tried to keep him as in character as possible.
Daryl was surprised, and a little annoyed by the fact his obsession with you had only grown after that. He'd hoped that he'd just fuck you and get over it, get back to his usual self and only occasionally need to go out and hunt. But you only made it worse, he found himself needing to go out hunting multiple times a week.
No one was complaining about his frequent outings though, each time he'd always come back with fresh kills and that was more food in their stomachs. Carol did make a comment about the fact she was cooking deer for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but he just retorted with some playful insult, and she'd shoot him one right back.
Your presence had become scarce after that night, and over time Daryl seriously grew worried. Even though you were currently the object of his obsession, he still viewed you as someone important to him, despite the way you made him go insane.
What was once an occasional late-night dick jerking session became an every night type deal, sometimes twice a night. The way you had acted like nothing ever happened between the two of you made it so much worse.
He'd expected you to get attached after that, constantly trying to get him to follow you off into the woods again, but you were just your old self, sweet and friendly but reserved.
Daryl fucking hated that.
His frustration started making him sloppy, and desperate. He picked up his old habit of stalking you, always out of sight but always right behind you. He knew you were unaware, he'd taken every single precaution to avoid giving you even the slightest suspicion you were being watched.
There was one day he had followed you into the small town down the road. He'd stick one street over, behind buildings and in deep alleys, only keeping you in his sight long enough to see which turn you'd make.
It turned out his annoyance at your stupidity was warranted. You'd run into trouble, two men who'd been scavenging an old department store and saw you walking by. They'd followed you, just as he did, bewildered by your obliviousness, just as he was.
He knew they had the worst intentions. Rob you, kidnap, assault, or even all three, but thankfully he never had to find out. Because apparently, you were smarter than you looked, or just very fucking lucky, because you'd lost them between a group of small shops.
He watched as they tried to find you, stumped at you seeming to vanish in thin air, and he began hunting them instead.
They were more aware of their surroundings than you had been with Daryl. They could sense him, even though they hadn't seen or heard him, they knew he was there. They quickly switched from predator to prey as they felt his presence, constantly looking over their shoulders and making attempts at getting away through alleys.
He could practically taste their fear. Their whale eyes flashed around the street, looking at every shop window, every door, every trash can, and in their disoriented fear driven state they ran right into him.
Daryl moved quickly, his hands grabbing a fistful of greasy brown hair and slamming it against the brick wall next to him. As the man fell over the second whirled to face him, ending up falling right onto Daryl's knife, a shout bursting from his horrified mouth.
Drawing the blade from his stomach he drove it into his throat, muting any further screams. He then used his elbow to slide the man off his knife.
He watched as the man fell into shock, his hands grasping his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Daryl simply watched, his eyes never leaving his face, soaking in the sensation of his hunger being satiated.
Once his legs finally gave out and he fell to his knees, Daryl turned his attention to the first man, who was slowly regaining consciousness.
He bent down into a squat and slapped the flat of his blade against the man's cheek, forcing him back to his senses.
The confusion in his narrowed eyes turned to wide unbridled anger. His lips pulled away from his teeth and he tried to sit upright, only to get a heavy boot to his chest, sending him smacking against the concrete.
He didn't say anything, which was unusual for Daryl. They'd usually start with threats, insults, rage as they denied accepting the weight of their situation. Then they'd start trying to bargain with him, offer him food, guns, weapons, sometimes cars. And when Daryl wouldn't give them any type of response, only unnerving eye contact, they'd start begging.
This man hadn’t said a damn word. He kept trying to get up, he'd scoot back away a few feet before Daryl's boot kicked him in the chest and sent him flailing down on his back again.
“What do you want?” He finally broke the silent struggle, submitting and remaining on the concrete.
Daryl looked down at the man with that same expressionless look on his face. After a few seconds of this he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his front shirt pocket, making the man beneath him dramatically flinch.
As he lit the cigarette the man sputtered, trying to speak but unable to find the words. Daryl shoved the pack back in his pocket and took a deep pull, watching as he gave another attempt at getting away.
This time he got a kick to the face.
The pain from that alone sent the man into fight or flight. After he scrambled to his feet Daryl decided he'd had enough, and after grabbing the back of his shirt he plunged the knife into his back, drew it out, and sunk it back in in a different spot.
Over and over he did this.
He left the man rolling on his back on the ground, his once gray tank top soon turning a dark red.
In the hopes of maybe holding his urges off for longer, Daryl gave a few more stabs to the chest before swiping his knife clean on the dying man's jeans. He slipped it back in his belt and wiped his face with the back of his hand, only making the blood smear worse.
Daryl left the men there and made his way back to Alexandria, taking a deep and satisfying pull from his cigarette before the sight of your red sweater caught his eye.
He stopped in his tracks when his brain processed the image of you, his hand holding his cigarette a few inches from his lips. He felt like someone just pointed a remote at him and pressed pause, the only movement being the smoke curling up and away from his face.
You looked about the same.
You had a look of shock on your face, but not the type you'd expect someone to have after witnessing a murder like that. You'd seen your fair share of people being killed, you'd had to do it yourself a few times before, but that was always a kill or be killed scenario.
Those two men weren't trying to kill Daryl.
You'd caught sight of them in the reflection of a store window and knew they were sneaking up on you, so you'd darted behind an old coffee shop and climbed up the ladder. Once you were sure you'd lost them you climbed down, walked past two shops and around a corner just in time to see Daryl repeatedly kicking the man to the ground, behaving like more of a leopard playing with mice.
You'd watched the entire thing stretch on for what felt like hours, your eyes following every plunge of the knife, stabbing everywhere but the one place that would instantly dispatch that man.
Neither of you moved for a few moments. You only finally reacted when a chunk of ash fell from Daryl's cigarettes, watching it as it floated to the ground, looking back up to his face when it landed with a puff on the sidewalk.
“What was that?”
The innocent tone of your voice felt like he was the one who got stabbed in the chest.
Daryl always had a perfect way of killing. He'd play his role as some dumbass redneck who looked super easy to take advantage of, and they fell for it every time. They'd try to rob him or attack him and only then did he react, grappling them with movements he'd perfected to the point of it being an art. He'd always made sure that if there was the slightest chance of Rick, Carol, or anyone in his group somehow seeing, it could be read as necessary self defense.
But there was no way to explain away what he'd just done right out in the open, in broad daylight. Part of him wished it was Rick who'd seen him, not you,
Rick was no stranger to the deep satisfaction killing bad people brought. But you? He remembered once back at the prison you'd been torn up for days after having to kill someone who'd been attacking you. And that was a quick bullet to the head to a man who wanted you dead.
Finally, he took the cigarette back to his lips and took a pull before speaking. “They were gonna do worse to you.”
You knew he wasn't lying. But by the look on your face you didn't accept that, that wasn't the real reason why.
You inhaled deeply through your nose and looked off into the distance somewhere, Daryl could see the wheels turning behind your furrowed brow. He tried to remember all the excuses he used to think of when he was in the shower, running down every worst case scenario.
“How many times have you done that?” Your unspecified question had him unsure of how to respond. You blinked in frustration before elaborating. “Killed someone you didn't need to like that. All emotionless.”
“Lost count.” The boldness of his answer made you scoff. He stepped forward till he was inches away, maintaining steadily intense eye contact. “You gonna do somethin’ bout it?”
You weren't expecting him to challenge you so blatantly like that. Your jaw dropped as if you were about to speak, go off on him or lose your shit, but suddenly, it just didn't matter anymore. Maybe it was your brain trying to gaslight you into just moving away from the tense situation, but you closed your mouth and nodded once before turning on your heel.
Daryl prepared himself for some speech about morals in the apocalypse but you spoke before he had the chance.
“We should get back, Carol's making soup for dinner.”
That night you had successfully rationalized what you'd seen Daryl doing(gaslit yourself). Those men were evil, if they had the upper hand or maybe more numbers they would've done worse than what Daryl did. Even though it wasn't a quick death, it was nothing compared to what they would've done to you.
In the back of your mind though, you knew that wasn't the main reason for what he did to them. He'd shifted into a completely different being then, it wasn't human, or animal. He had become almost soulless, his actions so mechanical it looked like a set of commands he'd been wired to do. The way every single move was so calculated, the way he knew what they'd do before they did it, down to the way he cleaned the blood from his knife on their clothes.
Your blood ran cold when you remembered that first night in the woods with Abraham and the others. The way you felt his presence behind you even though you never heard or saw him. That must have been what those men felt, the primal instinct that they were being watched.
You felt stupid for thinking he was following you that night because he had a thing for you. You really didn't want to believe he was capable of hurting you, but that was hard when you could vividly remember how tight he squeezed your neck and the way he looked into your eyes when he did it.
If you didn't have a good reason to avoid him before, you sure as hell did now.
But you really didn't want to.
Every night you'd think about it again, the specific details becoming blurry as you imagined him doing it differently. Your heart would speed up when you'd imagine yourself in their place, walking through the woods and becoming aware that you were being watched, your fear only growing worse when you'd look around and wouldn't see anyone, but the feeling of him drawing closer persisting nonetheless-
Your stomach dropped when you realized your body had reacted differently to the idea of that then you had normally. Your heart rate was fast, like usual, but instead of anxiety spreading in your chest you felt a deep flipping sensation in your core.
It had been a few days since you saw him. You knew he was always there, inciting a deep and unsettling paranoia in you.
Rick invited the inner group over for dinner and drinks.
You smiled as he handed you a glass of red wine, that same sly smirk he always had for you on his face. You were standing against the wall of his living room while the later arrivals finished their meal in the dining room.
“You've been quiet.” Rick's voice had once been enough to soothe any anxiety that you might've had. But now it did little, akin to the background humming of indifferent frogs and crickets.
His voice called your name and you forced yourself to look up to his face, nearly crying at the sight. You wished you could tell him everything, weep into his arms and have him shush away your worries, explain it all away and go back to the way things were.
His expression grew serious then. “You okay?”
“Have you ever…” You glanced around to make sure there were no eyes on you. Everyone was minding their own business, chattering happily as they enjoyed Rick's spaghetti and wine.
“Killed someone you didn't have to kill?” Your quiet voice had his posture stiffening. He shifted his feet as he nodded, mulling over your words before he spoke.
“We've all done things we're ashamed of. If it's in the past, let it rot there. Nothin' you can do to change it.”
“Have you?”
It took him a while to answer. He inhaled deeply through his nose before leaning in closer to you, his tone darker. “Why are you asking me?”
“Someone here did that. Two men. They were bad men, but… they were trying to run away.”
“Then they did the right thing. Those men could've easily come back with more people.”
You sighed, shifting closer to him. By now you were only inches away from each other, and you could smell the cologne he'd put on before dinner. “He looked like he liked doing it. It wasn't… quick.”
Rick eyed you for a few silent moments.
“Daryl.” It wasn't a question, he already knew the answer. You looked up to him, your eyes wide and worried now, but he settled you with a firm glare.
“Sometimes a man does things that you don't need to worry about.” He spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “All you need to know is he protects you, and keeps your belly full. Alright?”
You didn't know how to feel about learning that Rick knew. He didn't know the full extent, no one did, no one knew about the trophies and the hunting, or the meticulous planning that went into Daryl's killing.
“Alright.” For some reason, it sets you at ease. If your leader said it was fine, then it had to be fine with you.
Rick's expression softened and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to give you a comforting squeeze. You melted into his touch and closed your eyes, trying your best to ignore the burning on the side of your face from the hunter in the corner of the room.
The air was unusually cold.
You tried to steady your breathing as you walked through the familiar forest outside Alexandria.
You couldn't feel him yet, but in your bones you could sense it, almost like he had a tracking tag on him that would make your heart race faster and faster as he drew closer.
If you concentrated hard enough you could imagine him in real time, right about now he'd just be getting into the woods, picking up your tail-
The bolt of anxiety that went through your chest at the image had you picking up your pace, walking faster down the familiar path that eventually led to a river.
It wasn't long before you felt it. You looked over your shoulder at the scene behind you. The forest floor, covered in dead leaves, the thin trees with gray bark that were randomly spaced out, and nothing else. Your eyes burned as you tried to see as far off into the distance as possible. Nothing. You couldn't even hear the normal wildlife, no birds, crickets, cicadas.
You turned back around and pulled the sleeves of your black turtleneck down over your cold wrists.
The feeling grew stronger as you walked on. The sun was setting, the normal bright yellow light fading into a gentler orange.
It started with the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up. You'd turn around and see the same nothingness as before, only this time not being able to see as far due to the setting sun.
The overwhelming urge to run overcame you and you looked over your shoulder again, your stomach falling ten stories when you saw nothing. That was worse than seeing him lurking behind. At least if you could see him, you'd know where he was. He could be anywhere. Your breath trembled and you resisted the screaming in your body to run, but the sound of a stick cracking had you breaking into a jog.
He was close now, you could feel it. You didn't turn around anymore, you couldn't, if you once again were met with nothing you'd start losing your sanity.
Soon it would be too dark to see. The idea of trying to hide from him in the pitch black forest had you running, and you didn't stop until it was too dark for you to do so without tripping.
You caught your breath behind a large oak and waited. The silence was starting to get to you. Where the hell were all the birds? The cicadas that are always screaming this time of year?
Where the hell were the walkers?
It was dark now. You looked ahead of you and felt like you'd fallen into a deep freezing cold lake, your vision had dramatically decreased to around five yards in front of you. It was getting dark so fast, the silence only seemed to be growing louder, you began to doubt yourself, you were way in over your head, what were you thinking? You were the only person alive who saw Daryl Dixon stab a man to death, a man that was actively trying to escape, just because of what he might have done, and YOU thought it was a good idea to play hide and seek in the woods with him?
You waited too long. By the time you heard the distinct sound of featherlight footsteps it was too dark, you couldn't see anything. When you looked up you couldn't even see the moon or any stars, were the trees too thick? You didn't see any clouds that day, your head spun and you tripped over your feet the second you tried to step forward.
Adrenaline surged through your body at the animalistic fear of being vulnerable around an unseen danger. You scrambled to your feet and froze, your eyes as wide as they could be in hopes of being able to see better.
To your left you could barely see the backdrop of the dark blue sky behind the trees. You turned in a circle, and tried to look back to the sky, but in your turning you'd completely disoriented yourself. The way you'd come was just as lost as what was once your left.
You felt a coldness run deep in your bones when you realized you had no idea which way Daryl was.
If this was some innocent game of hide and seek you'd complain about the unfair advantage he had over you, most of his life he'd spent out in woods just like these.
In a last ditch effort of self preservation you remained still, kept your eyes open and unblinking, and listened.
Nothing. You couldn't hear a single fucking thing. If not for the sound of your own breathing you'd wonder if you'd gone deaf without even realizing it. You raised your hand in front of your face and blinked hard a few times, trying to will your eyes to become as good as Daryl's.
Time ticked by no matter what you did. Without anything for you to hear or see it became harder to keep your balance, and your arms slowly lifted from your side to steady yourself.
Your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft. You felt a brief tingle of confusion before all at once your heart leapt into your throat and your stomach dropped to your feet when you came to the horrifying realization of what you just touched.
Fingers.
You snatched your hand away like you'd been stung, and with how fast you did it, you spun and fell to your knees. Your body couldn't react quick enough, you could hear leaves from what sounded like every direction, and you froze.
Was that even Daryl?
You hadn't even seen him for sure, you had no proof whatsoever, not even a hint to go by, those could be walkers. For all you knew, Daryl could be back in Alexandria skinning a deer for dinner, clueless to your absence.
You felt a different kind of fear as your mind dug yourself deeper and deeper. All you had on you was a comically small machete and a pathetic little flashlight. You'd imagined this going very differently, which was your own damn fault. You should've learned by now you couldn't predict anything about Daryl. He'd shown you that time and time again.
You were too busy thinking about how stupid you were to notice the silence was back. But once you did, you forced yourself to your feet, and pushed on. Your arms reached out blindly in front of you as you took baby steps, trying not to gasp each time your fingertips grazed a tree.
It took everything in you not to scream when you felt it again. A hand, but instead of reaching out to meet your outstretched hand, it ghosted up the small of your back. You whirled around and reached out, desperately trying to grab a sleeve, a finger, anything to pull yourself to, like the ladder in a swimming pool.
Being met with empty black air almost brought you to tears. You lurched forward, trying to predict his position, but just as silently as he arrived he had sunk out of reach.
You were ready to beg. You were wrong, you didn't want this, you were so fucking scared.
Just as you began to work up the courage to speak, your feet flew out from under you as you were shoved in the chest, hard. A dull pain shot through your ass and you kicked your feet in the dirt in front of you, pushing yourself away from his direction. But he was five steps ahead, his fingers grazing the top of your scalp.
You yelped, spinning around to get up on your knees, not even managing to get one foot on the ground before you were shoved back in the dirt again.
Something about that final push set you into fight or flight, so you got to your feet and ran.
Daryl was right about your ridiculous luck. You made it pretty far before you ran into a tree, smacking into it with the edge of your shoulder so hard it spun you around again. Once again you had no idea which direction he was in so you got up, and tried again.
Apparently he'd grown tired of toying with you. You'd managed to run about twelve feet when your only information of his location was the sound of heavy footsteps running after you.
The realization he was fucking chasing you, full on running, terrified you so badly you found yourself unable to form thoughts anymore, your brain turned off as your body did everything possible to survive.
You managed to surprise him. Instead of continuing straight you veered to the left, which would have been a very impressive feat had you not run into another tree. This one was huge, and thankfully you had slowed down enough that you didn't hurt yourself running into it, but it did scare the fuck out of you.
You used your hands on the trunk to guide you, shimmying around the edge until you were pressed on the other side, your back flush against it. You held your breath and waited, not daring to make a single sound.
That feeling happened again. He was looking at you, but you didn't know where. Your eyes were utterly useless but you still looked frantically in every direction, only being met with utter blackness.
There was nothing you could do. A small part of you felt relieved, at least you didn't have to try so hard anymore. Slowly, you let out your lungful of air, trying to be quiet. But it wasn't getting out fast enough and your lips opened against your will, causing you to shudder out a terrified breath.
He had been two feet in front of you for a while now. His eyes, although not superhuman, had over time adjusted enough to find his way through dark woods like these. He could see the outline of nearby trees, and the figure of your body pressed up against one.
The silence had quickly become something the two of you were extremely used to. So when there was a sudden shift in the air followed by wind shifting the leaves of trees above you, it startled you both.
The sound of leaves moving right in front of you sets you off again. You prepare to make a break to the left, but unbeknownst to you, Daryl could see the way you angled your body, your right leg braced behind you.
He smirked and threw out his foot right as you bolted forward. Your legs flew out from under you and you landed hard on your stomach, the air being knocked from your lungs.
Daryl watched as you tried unsuccessfully to breathe again, your lungs spasming before finally snapping back to normal. You greedily gulped in air and weakly attempted to roll over on your side.
He crouched next to you and reached out, using the back of his knuckle to brush hair from your forehead. You jerked violently, your hands flying up to try and fight him away. That made him chuckle, and you felt a whole new rage of emotions after having his identity confirmed.
It really was Daryl. If that was a good thing or a bad thing you weren't sure of yet, but at least you knew for sure it was him.
“What'd you think was gonna happen, huh?” He muttered, his hand grabbing your wrist and yanking it from your face. “Go off in the woods alone again, start runnin’ in the dark, ain't nobody tell you runnin’ just makes things wanna chase you?”
The more he spoke the more aggressive he became, his other hand latching onto your other wrist to hold you firmly in place. It didn't stop you from struggling, which only made his prey drive even more active.
“What are you gonna do?” Your voice and the way it trembled made his upper lip twitch. He stared down at your face, another sick grin forming when he saw you grow more and more terrified the longer the silence stretched on.
“Daryl, please.”
The grin fell from his face then, something about the way you sounded like you were about to cry setting his teeth on edge. He let go of your wrists and ran the back of his knuckles down the side of your face, his touch tender. He saw you relax a little at that and he leaned down, brushing his lips so lightly against yours you could've mistaken it for the wind.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." You breathed and nodded softly; the fear of dying being replaced by a delicious different kind of terror. This could easily become an addiction.
His gentle actions slowly hardened as his fingertips trailed down from your cheek to your jaw, the pressure increasing until he reached your throat, where his hand slipped into that perfect fit around your neck.
“I think you need a little wakeup call princess, you don't get to tease me like this and change your mind cause you get scared.” He said the last word like an insult, as if it was a ridiculous fuck up on your end.
“Shit don't work like that anymore.” His tone took this edge of meanness, something that made your lower stomach flip.
Your chest fluttered with your shaky breathing, and you nodded, filling him with a deep satisfaction. He squeezed his hand around your neck with no warning, no slow increase in pressure, just an immediate white knuckled squeeze.
Right as you saw little flashes of white at the edges of your vision he relaxed his hand, but he kept it there like some kind of warning.
He released his hand and replaced it with something cold, your mouth dried instantly when you realized it was his knife.
“Get up.”
You slowly stood with him, making sure to let him guide where your head went, not wanting to risk getting nicked.
Then it was like he disappeared.
You waited a few moments, your eyes flickering around the different shades of black.
A bright orange glow had your pupils dilating painfully. After being in pitch black darkness for so long the small flame from his lighter felt like staring into the sun.
He looked terrifying then. His cigarette between his lips and his cheeks dipped in as he pulled in to help the tobacco light. His eyes flicked up to you for less than a second before he snapped the lighter closed and you were left with an orange dot where his face once was.
You stood in the same spot, not daring to breathe, your eyes locked on the orange dot as it moved from his lips to down at his side. You weren't sure what he was expecting of you, so you remained standing as long as he felt like torturing you.
A minute later the orange orb vanished with a hiss as he put it out on his boot. You heard the light tap of it falling in the dirt, where he proceeded to grind it with his shoe. You deeply missed that orange dot, it gave you something to focus on in the black void.
His hands were rough as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around. You gasped at the sudden roughness, your heart jumping after standing in silent nothingness for so long. The knife was back on your throat, his other hand slipping up under your turtleneck.
“What you saw the other day,” His breath was hot against the shell of your ear as his hand groped and squeezed your sides, growing more firm as he slid it up to your breasts. “Can't have anyone knowin’ ‘bout it.”
Your first instinct was to nod, but the blade against the side of your throat made you think twice. “Mhm. I know.” You hummed out your anxious promise, your hands clinging onto his forearm for dear life.
“I don't think you do.” His voice was calm and steady, the opposite of the angry way he pinched your nipple. Your whine caught in your throat and you clenched your teeth, baring them in a pained grimace, much like a submissive animal.
“You're a stupid bitch,” Those words held so much fiery emotion despite how cool and collected he sounded. You swallowed a whimper as he went on, “but you ain't dumb enough to go and open your mouth.”
He didn't appreciate your lack of response, you'd been frozen from the way his hand had dipped under the waistband of your jeans, fingers barely grazing your panties.
“Makin’ me think I might be wrong.” He growled and pressed the knife firmer against your neck, and you immediately snapped out of it.
“You're not. I won't, I promise.” Your ass moved against the hard dick beneath his jeans, making him hiss out a curse.
In this game the two of you played, he had a level of excitement and vigor that was previously unknown to him. He rested his forehead on the back of your head and inhaled deeply, holding the flowery scent of your shampoo in his lungs like it’d get him high.
He loved the way you played this role so perfectly. Growing up watching slasher movies through puberty wasn't the sole reason for his degeneracy, but it played a large role. Drifting around selling drugs with Merle to unsavory people added to it too.
Daryl finally dipped his fingers under your panties, taking his sweet time rubbing circles in the skin all the way down to your slit. When he felt how wet you were he sucked in a gasp before he could stop himself. You'd been working that up for a while. By the way your panties were soaked, he'd guess you got all worked up the second you slipped out of Alexandria.
Your grip on his forearm tightened as he stroked your clit, swirling his finger around a few times before dipping down through your folds.
Without meaning to you held your breath in anticipation, begging to any higher power to have him go easy on you. You couldn't take another night like before, especially not in the middle of the woods. You strongly believed that when he finished with you and saw the state you were in, he'd just leave you to find your own way back when you stopped being a pathetic mess.
Your prayers were answered and he angled his hand in a way that allowed him to push his middle finger inside you, your walls greedily squeezing around him. Now that you were pretty sure he wouldn't actually kill you, you allowed yourself to enjoy every drop of pleasure he'd give you.
You moaned shamelessly when he shocked you by not just driving it in and out, but he fucking curled his finger.
“You bring any walkers over here and I'll leave your ass in the dark.” His tone held a venomous bite, but you were fairly certain he wouldn't actually do that. You weren't taking any chances though so you pressed your lips tightly together and tried to steady your breathing through your nose.
His head bumped gently against yours as he moved his attention to the top of your ear, his lips warm against the cold skin there. You nearly crumpled in his arms at the feeling, and when his tongue traced the tip of your ear you physically shuddered against his chest. He trailed a few kisses from your ear to the back of your neck, giving into his impulsives and sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder.
It took every ounce of concentration to remain quiet. He couldn't tease you like this, do every little trick in the foreplay handbook, and expect you to keep quiet?
His finger curled again the second time, sending a jolt through your core and down your legs. When he felt your nails dig into his forearm he nudged your head again with his, tilting you so he could press his cheek against yours.
If not for his hand down the front of your jeans and the knife he had on your neck, you would've passed for a sappy couple posing for pictures.
Just as you'd relaxed against his chest, your head tilting back to rest against his collarbone, he started curling his finger at a consistent pace. You whined deep in your throat, your eyes squeezing shut against the frustration of pleasure, but not enough.
His hand pulled out from your jeans so suddenly you actually made a genuine whiney noise, already frustrated and impatient. The knife returned to its former deep pressure, immediately setting you straight.
He popped open the buttons on your pants and pulled down one side, bending his knees to pull them down over your ass, making you awkwardly twist and bend with him.
Your body reacted subliminally to the sound of his buckle clinking as he unbuckled his belt, your back arching to press yourself closer against him. His breathing had ever so slightly gotten heavier while he worked to take his dick out, his mouth sending hot puffs of air against your ear. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling, and even more so when you felt his swollen tip bob between your legs after he freed it from his pants.
You were lucky Daryl wasn't in the mood to take longer than necessary to fuck you. It was a bit selfish on his part, he no longer cared about your pleasure, instead choosing to solely make himself cum with your pussy. Made no difference to him if you came or not. The wind carried the faint smell of rain and he could hear the beginning rumble of thunder in the distance.
He spit on his fingertips and slathered it over his tip, tugging on his dick a few times before guiding himself to your hole. Just as greedy as before, he pushed inside you, slapping his hand over your mouth to muffle your whines of discomfort.
Daryl's downstairs department was nothing to make light of, he was blessed with a heavy dick that was the perfect length to fill you completely so not a single millimeter of space was untouched.
But Christ, the girth, he didn't have the type of dick he could just slide in you without giving you a stretch that burned. Unfortunately for you, he didn't really care that much, it went away after a minute and didn't feel like a big deal to him.
You groaned into his palm, your eyes rolling back into your head when he immediately set a rough pace. The angle he fucked you in, standing upright with your ass stuck out for him, it had his tip slamming into that perfect spot every single thrust.
The knife suddenly fell from his fingers, landing on your boot with a thump, but before you could react his hand quickly replaced it. His left arm wrapped around your waist, using it to keep your hips angled in towards him. With his right hand he squeezed your neck, gradually increasing pressure until he felt your hands on his arm start to loosen their grip.
He released the pressure, the oxygen and blood returning to your brain to give you an amazing head rush. He waited until he felt your nails dig back into his skin before squeezing again, repeatedly bringing you to the brink of unconsciousness before letting you come crashing back down to earth.
With the arm he had around your waist he moved his fingers over your lower stomach, feeling around for a moment before pressing the flat of his hand down right where he felt his dick.
You sucked in a sharp gasp at the feeling, wondering where the hell he learned that, you knew he hadn't fucked anyone ever since you'd known him. And with the way he was when you first met him in Atlanta, you seriously doubt he was experienced enough to know how to do something like that.
Daryl was a lot more simple than you were trying to figure out, he just liked the way he could feel his dick moving if he pressed down hard enough and fucked you deep enough. The fact it felt amazing was just a lucky side effect for you.
The next time he started choking you he squeezed a little tighter, the feeling of your throat shifting under his palm had him growling curses into the crook of your neck. Your back arched harder, your body desperate to feel him deeper. Him fucking you fast and hard, coupled with the way his grip on your neck kept cutting off blood to your head, suddenly became way too much and you came around his dick, your walls squeezing and holding onto his length with all its might.
Daryl felt his eyes roll back in his head and his dick twitch at the feeling. “That's it girl.” He muttered out encouragement, knowing he needed you to hold out a few more minutes. If you got all whiney and weak like last time he'd have to stuff his shirt in your mouth. He was already lucky enough that somehow there were no walkers nearby, he couldn't take the chance to try and push his luck.
His encouragement worked, your body melting against him as you soaked in the rare praise.
“Yeah, that's it. Atta girl.” His voice was so low and deep you could feel it vibrate in his chest against the top of your back, sending little sparks of pleasure through your core.
He picked up the pace, his hand falling from your neck to grab both sides of your hips. Carefully, and slowly, he guided you down to your knees, keeping his dick inside you as you both knelt in the dirt. He put his hands on your upper back and pushed, forcing your arms out from under you so the side of your face was on the ground.
The feeling of his large rough hands pushing your back down had your stomach tightening again, and it only got worse when he shifted your ass higher up against his pelvis. He was back to his earlier pace in no time, thrusting hard and fast, one hand still pushing down on your back while the other did the same to the side of your head.
It got harder to keep quiet the longer he went on. When he suddenly grabbed your ass and held it tight against him, forcing his dick in deeper, you came unexpectedly, breathing so hard it sent the dirt next to your face poofing away. You clenched down on him again, your back arching obscenely, and rode the dizzy waves of your orgasm, quickly forcing him to have one of his own.
Daryl spit out a growl and slammed into you a few last times before he came, his grip on your hips keeping you immobile as he emptied himself inside you. Even after you twitched from the last bit of your orgasm and started moving to get up, he grabbed hold of your hair and smashed your head back down. Maybe it was a power move, because he held you down like that for a while, his dick buried so deep inside you his cum wasn't able to trickle out yet.
You waited what felt like five minutes before you spoke up, your voice hoarse from all the heavy mouth breathing. “Daryl?”
He barely let you finish the L in his name before he cut you off. “Shut the hell up.” He muttered, his heavy hand still pressed against your face and the other holding your hips tightly against his.
He would've been content to stay like that for a while, just to torture you some more, maybe keep you there under him until his dick got hard again. But the rumble of thunder was getting closer, and he didn't feel like getting caught out in a storm.
When he finally released his grip on your hair and waist you sighed in relief, lifting your face from the ground to brush the dirt from your cheek. He pulled his softened dick from you and groaned when he felt the cool air on his sensitive skin.
You were dreading getting up and the walk home when you heard the familiar hissing and groaning of a nearby walker. You pulled up your pants as slowly and quietly as humanly possible, your eyes still trying with all their might to see in the dark forest.
Daryl clicked on a flashlight for a split second, just long enough to catch the location of the walker.
In a bright white flash you saw three of them about ten yards out. Your moaning must've attracted them, and your stomach twisted when you remembered Daryl threatening to leave you there if you drew any walkers over.
A large warm hand slipped into yours and he helped you to your feet. It was so kind that you were almost more concerned with the action than the fact you were in pitch black darkness with three walkers heading your way.
He slung his crossbow over from his back and clicked the flashlight on again, only for a split second. They weren't much closer. He took them out, clicked the light again, and saw a handful more far, far back. You could definitely outwalk them. You sighed in relief and wiped the dirt from your palms and face.
“Can you walk?” He whispered as he slung his weapon back over his shoulder, slipping his flashlight in his front jean pocket.
“Yeah, I'm fine.” You whispered in return and took his hand again, trying not to let silly childish emotions start clouding your mind. You weren't some teen girl with her first real boyfriend, you were a woman holding the hand of a cold man who killed for pleasure, a man that just hunted you through the woods like you were some fox or cougar. And he was freakishly good at it.
He led you back to Alexandria in a way that harshly contrasted his normal exterior. His hand was gentle but firm and he didn't rush you, not once. Even when you snuck back through the back wall he stayed with you, albeit letting go of your hand. He took you to your house, made sure you got in safe, and did something at the door that had your heart pounding even more than when he chased you.
Daryl looked at you for a moment, uncertainty clear on his face. You could tell he was thinking of hundreds of different things at once, and it kind of looked like he was nervous.
He leaned in and placed his open hand at the base of your neck. Not squeezing, not grabbing or clenching, he just barely cupped your skin, his thumb tracing against the red and purple marks from his hands and teeth. You'd covered the last ones up with makeup, you could do the same with these.
You opened your mouth to reassure him of this but he leaned in, and kissed your forehead.
Then he pressed his forehead against yours. Your heart was racing painfully at this point. You watched as he looked into your eyes for a second before he closed them. You followed suit and closed your eyes, savoring the intense affection. It was so strange to you. You couldn't remember the last man or woman you'd been like this with. And the fact it was Daryl Dixon pressing his forehead against yours, right in the doorframe of your front door…
You decided then you didn't give a shit what he did for fun. You didn't give a shit if he felt the same way either. Maybe you could delude yourself into thinking that one day. You decided right then you'd walk through hell and back to get just a taste of this feeling again.
The feeling of his hand unfolding yours had you opening your weary eyes. You looked down and blinked, seeing a small white dot in the palm of your hand. He drew away from you then, muttering a quick ‘found this earlier’ before fading down the stairs and up the street to his house.
You rubbed your finger over your pearl earring and smiled.
@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial
#daryl dixon x reader#6060requests#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon x you#6060asks#twd daryl#the walking dead fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead x reader#daryl x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl dixon season 2#daryl#the waking dead#daryl dixion imagine#twd fanfiction#twd x reader#twd#18+ mdni#mdni
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cherry - around your neck - r. jerimovich
pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader
warning(s): language, age-gap, explicit sexual content
song: the party & the after party by the weeknd
24 hours. Twenty-four hours remained until you’d stand face-to-face with the older blue-eyed man who’d come to plague your every thought, in recent times. Twenty-four hours, so close, yet so dauntingly far. Seated directly before the mirror your worn chipped-paint coated vanity, you drank yourself in. Dressed in the thin, black mesh fabric of your nightgown, you carefully examined yourself for any outstanding flaws. The concealer that once sat comfortably under your eyes now faded and live-in, courtesy of the mentally and physically taxing classes you’d endured hours prior.
Your eyes were a bit smudged from your generous application of mascara, you’d decided your staple eyeliner wasn’t needed today. Your faded and worn brown and mauve lips adding a much needed flush to your lips as you forced a closed-mouthed smile at your reflection. Your deep-red painted acrylic nails combed through your hair, adding a smidge of volume as you tilted your head, posing in the mirror, once more. Were you desirable enough? You’d just hoped that Richie would think so.
I mean, fuck, clearly you were desirable enough if he’d asked to expect a video-call from him, so close to your first official meeting date. The palm of your right hand carefully pressed against the knuckles of your left, popping the knuckles and granting you the slightest bit of relief from your anxiety-ridden nerves. Why did he want to see you? Did he want to put an end to your tryst, before it even got a chance to begin? What did Richie Jerimovich want from you that he needed to see you at this very moment?
Opening your sticker-covered laptop, you waited. Watching the reflection of yourself, through your webcam, you adjusted the hem of your nightgown to sit comfortably against your breasts, pushing them up just a bit.
Now biting into the your acrylic-reinforced thumb nail, your foot tapped against the cold carpet of your bedroom floor. Scraping your teeth against your nail, you stared at the screen of your laptop, hopelessly.
The chime of Richie’ video call request shocked you, your posture straightening as you rushed to accept the call, exhaling a breath with a smile as the call connected, revealing sight of Richie, his eyes blown and bloodshot.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
-
Truth be told, Richie couldn’t find it himself to wait any longer. The past three days had been eating him alive, the impatience and anticipation that came with seeing you, touching you, becoming all too powerful against his already shaky sense of willpower. You were intoxicating, a way more addicting and raw being that was stronger than any of the substances he’d previously conducted dealings with. He could only come up with so many scenarios of you, in his mind to get himself off in the dark and tense hours of the night. So, he gave into temptation, gave into himself.
Richie could tell that you were nervous, shit, he shared the same sentiment, if not more. Asking to see you a day earlier than planned, out of the blue, he could only imagine the worst things that you could say to him. yet, the sight of your skin clashing against the confines of the thin mesh fabric, your breasts perked up just right, made it that much harder for Richie’s patience to take hold. He didn’t care where you two would go, or what time it was, he needed you, and sooner rather than later.
“Thank you, Richie,” you smiled softly, licking over the leftover mauve that stained your lips.
The two of you sat in silence for a beat. The sight of your chest rising and falling with a shaky breath becoming too much for Richie - he was too far gone.
“Richie is everything oka-”
“I need to you see now, I just, I can’t fuckin’ wait until tomorrow,” Richie blurted out, running his hand over his grown out bear, shaking his head with a smile.
You remained silent, biting down into the swell of your bottom lip with a short and breathy laugh.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re just makin’ it real fuckin’ hard for me, looking like that,” he continued, slightly adjusting the tie that laid around his neck, the glint of his gold chain peeking through from underneath his white button-up shirt.
Richie’s nerves began to run rampant as he aimlessly rambled, “I get it if you want to wait, you deserve to have the fanciest dinner of your fuckin’ life, but I need to see you, baby, so fuckin’ bad-”
“I don’t want to wait, either.” You spoke faintly, leaning your face to sit in the palm of your head.
Fuck. Richie was so fucked.
-
A subtle ache that hummed between your legs made its way through you. Knowing that Richie held the same virtue of desire eased your initial anxiousness, the two of you were teetering on a dangerously thin line and you both knew it.
Richie swallowed thickly, “Give me twenty minutes,” he spoke, his raspy voice now holding a heavier tone, “twenty minutes and I’m all yours.”
You shifted in your seat, tightly crossing your left leg over the other with an obedient nod, “all yours,” you repeated.
Richie abruptly ended the call, leaving you a nervous wreck as you sat in silence, the sound of the mild rain that hit your window, failing to calm your buzzing veins that struck you with adrenaline.
You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, debating on whether or not you should touch up your makeup, the farthest part of your subconscious telling you that you may not need to. Something about Richie’s demeanor excited you, he was domineering, yet this time he seemed feverish, almost needy?
You could barely speak yourself, lord knows how much you craved Richie, to the point where the thought of finally having him was nearly enough to bring you to your knees.
Throwing your head back, you let out a sigh, a smile laced with excitement and shock pulling at your lips as you struggled to come to terms with the fact that you were only minutes away from finally indulging in the baby blue-eyed older man. A laugh escaped your throat as you ran your fingers through your hair, before pulling your head up straight.
Standing up from the vanity, you quickly scanned your bedroom or any sign of mess. Why are you so nervous, it’s not like this is your first time being a with a guy, let alone having one at your apartment, but a 45 year old man who you met online - that was a first for you.
You made your way to the living room, turning your television on to a random channel, before heading to your kitchen cabinet, where you sifted through, until you’d found two wine glasses - did Richie even like wine? Setting the two glasses on your kitchen counter, you snatched your refrigerator door open, reaching for the cheap bottle of Moscato that you’d gotten for yourself for special occasions, like this very night.
Slamming the refrigerator door shut, you hastily reached inside of your freezing, grabbing the ice tray and cracking it, allowing a few cubes to all into each wine glass, before sliding the half-used ice tray back into the freezer. Placing the wine bottle next to beside the two ice-filled wine glasses, you took a breath.
The abrupt shrill of your ringtone broke you from your brief moment of stillness. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Coming!” You shouted, to no one in particular, your heart racing as you rushed to your bedroom.
Snatching your phone from your bed, you accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear, “sorry, I was just fixing up some stuff,” you answered, swallowing the lump of nerves that had formed in your throat.
The sound of a car door closing could be heard on the other end of the phone, “S’okay, I’m downstairs - shit, uh, what apartment are you stayin’ at?” Richie questioned.
It took everything in you not to take a peek at him from your bedroom window, “Oh, yeah, I’m in 4E.”
“Alright, give me two minutes, sweetheart,” Richie cooed.
“Bye, Richie,” you ended the call, scanning over your appearance in the mirror of your vanity, “fuck,” you muttered under your breath.
-
Richie stood in the dimmed elevator, his leg bouncing as the elevator beeped with each passing floor. He was so close to you, he could taste it at the tip of his tongue. He kept his hands inside of the pockets of his leather jacket, exhaling sharply as the elevator door opened, allowing him to enter the Fourth Floor hallway.
“Fuckin’ aye,” he laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he approached the door with ‘4E’ imprinted in gold.
Sliding his right hand out of his jacket pocket, Richie brought his knuckles to the heavy door, knocking rhythmically against it. Richie silently cursed himself out as he waited at the door, his head hung low. The sound of you unlocking the door caused Richie to straighten and broaden his shoulders.
Richie’s eyes fell on yours the moment you opened the door. That fucking dress - god, Richie couldn’t even think straight as the two of you stood in silence. His eyes drank you in, he couldn't help but want to study everything about you - you were much shorter than him, so much so, that he wanted nothing more than to have you against the wall with your legs wrapped around him. He could tell that you’d just spruced up your hair with those sleek red nails, he wondered what they’d feel like digging into his back and shoulder blades. He wanted nothing more than your lips on his, seeing the way you’d lick over them, leaving him a needy and greedy mess.
Man, you were such a fuckin’ tease. Of course, you’d decided to keep that nightgown on, Richie tried to remain a man of manners and respect, keeping his eyes trained on yours, instead of on your hand that smoothed itself against the curve of your hip.
”Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?”
-
You were completely entranced by the man who stood before you. He was tall, oh so tall, and you loved the way his oversized leather jacket clashed against his unbuttoned dress shirt and slacks. You allowed his bright baby blues to selfishly drink you in for a beat, before stepping aside, “come in,” you spoke softly.
Your eyes fluttered closed for a quick second as you shut your front door, taking a small breath before turning to face Richie, whose eyes scanned your apartment.
“You got a nice place here, yeah?”
“Uh, yeah, thank you,” you forced out a laugh as Richie’s eyes landed on yours, before motioning towards the kitchen, “would you like some wine?”
Richie shrugged off his jacket, neatly placing it on the arm of the couch as he licked at the corner of his mouth, with a nod, “Thank you, beautiful - y’need me to open it or?”
“If you don’t mind,” you accepted, your stomach turning in excitement as Richie approached you, sliding his warm hand across the side of your waist as he made his way into the kitchen.
-
Richie grabbed ahold on the wine bottle, gripping it by its neck as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, “Y’like white wine?” He questioned, pretending to be engrossed in the cheap bottle.
“Red gives me headaches,” you spoke.
“Depends on the type you get.” Richie quipped, not missing how your hand gripped the edge of the counter.
Richie was slowly drifting off into the deep end - the tension-thick air becoming too much as he stood before you, huffing out a breath as he reached over you to open the refrigerator, sliding the bottle inside, before pushing the door closed.
Now face-to-face with you, Richie keeps his eyes directly on yours, “Tell me, where’s your head at, sweetheart,” he questioned, the tips of your noses ghosting against each other as you shrugged.
“Can-can I touch you?” You asked, your voice coming out as a whisper as you lifted your head, inching your lips closer to his.
“I’m yours, I already told you that, baby.”
And Richie meant every single word.
You nodded, “then can you touch me?”
Richie nodded, bringing his hands to your waist, smoothing his hands against your skin, before lifting you onto the counter, allowing his hands to cup your face, “tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop, I fuckin’ swear I’ll stop, baby,” he spoke, his raspy voice needy and hoarse as his eyes search yours for any signs of displeasure.
-
With that, Richie’s warm lips were on yours, the kiss warm, wet, and hungry as you both moaned into it. Richie’s scent of musky cologne and faint cigarette smoke sent you into a daze, a whimper sneaking past your lips as Richie’s tongue slid against yours. The rough hair of Richie’s beard deliciously scratched at your lips as he adjusted himself, deepening the kiss even further, pushing you farther back onto the counter, any further and Richie would be climbing onto the counter himself.
A gasp left the two of you’s lips as you both caught your breath before you hooked your leg around Richie’s slim waist, pulling him in closer with a throaty moan. Richie’s calloused hand slightly tightened around your throat as he groaned into your mouth, the sensation of your nails accidentally scratching at the side of his neck becoming all too good to him.
Without breaking the kiss, Richie hiked your other leg around his waist, swiftly wrapping his free arm around you as he pulled you into his chest, carrying you over to your dining table.
Richie pulls away from you, feeling a faint pang in his chest as you pouted, “I know, baby, just lay back for me, I need to fuckin’ taste you,” he pleaded, pulling you in for one more quick kiss, before you laid back against the cold glass surface of the table.
A short gasp left your lips as your back arched, the frigid glass singing your skin through the thin mesh of your nightgown, “fuck,” you muttered.
Richie’s hands were quick to lift the hem of your nightgown, allowing the mesh to bunch up at your waist as he tapped your legs, silently beckoning you to spread them as you complied.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ pretty,” He smiled, pulling you closer to the edge of the table, before lowering his head between your thighs and pressing a wet kiss to your panty-covered pussy.
Richie presses another kiss to you, before sliding your underwear down your legs and allowing them to fall to the floor, a groan leaving his lips as he raised one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh with open-mouthed kisses before making his way back down to your aching pussy.
Pressing his tongue flat against your wetness, Richie took a long and greedy lick up your folds, repeating this a couple more times, before sticking his warm and taut tongue inside of you.
“Fuck, Richie,” you breathed out, trying to grab at the completely smooth glass surface of the table as he stuck his tongue inside of you once, more, pushing himself deeper with a moan.
Richie had you right where he wanted you. And fuck, eating you out his new favorite hobby.
Richie was disgustingly greedy with you, the mixture of your slick wetness and his saliva coating his beard as he slurped away at your pulsing clit, your hoarse moans like music to his ears as he continued to lap away at you, the hand that held your leg over his shoulder now moving towards your core.
“Keep going, please, don’t st-”
Your whines fade into a gasp as Richie slides his index finger into you, the squelch of his finger enclosed in your walls sending you into a frenzy as Richie pulls his glistening face away from between your legs. Your mouth is hung open as Richie begins to thrust his finger at an agonizingly slow pace.
Taking in the wet sound of your pussy taking in his finger, Richie leans over you, his free hand now gripping your throat as he leans his forehead against yours, “M’gonna put another one in baby, just keep - fuck, just keep those pretty fuckin’ eyes on me, okay?” Richie speaks, his voice deliciously low as you nod feverishly, your nails scratching at the table.
“I-It feels so good, Richie, fuck,” you cried, your hoarse voice struggling against Richie’s grip on your throat.
Nevertheless, you did what you were told. You kept your eyes on Richie’s as he pulled his finger out of you, quickly re-entering you with both his index fingers as he pushed them all the way inside of you.
“Oh, fuck, you’re doing so fuckin’ good, baby,” Richie moaned, watching closely as you fought to keep your eyes on his.
Richie’s fingers quickened their pace inside of you, the lewd sounds of how wet you were, coupled with the ferocity of his skilled fingers leaving Richie wanting nothing more than to make you cum.
“Richie, I-I’m gon-”
“I know, baby, I know, I got you,” Richie cooed, maintaining the quick and hard pace of his fingers as he sloppily kissed you, keeping his forehead against yours as your eyelids became dangerously heavy.
“I’m so fucking close - so fucking close,” you moaned, your vision growing hazy as Richie hummed.
“You’re so fuckin’ close, I can feel it, baby.”
Richie’s hand moved from around your throat, to cradle the back of your head, forcing your to keep your focus on him as he curved his fingers inside of you, hitting that deliciously sweet spot, over and over again, until you let out a throaty cry. Richie quickly kissed you, his finger working you through your orgasm as you cried into his mouth.
Richie slowed his fingers to a gradual stop, allowing you to ride out your orgasm against his hand as you came down from your high. Your breaths were choppy and uneven as you tried to regain your composure.
Your pupils were blown, eyes wild as Richie took in your post-orgasmic appearance, so he decided he'd test the waters, bringing his/lips to your ear, “open,” he commanded, a burst of pride sweeping inside of his chest as he watched you close your swollen lips around his fingers.
You sucked softly, your strained eyes never leaving Richie’s as you gently pulled his now dry fingers out of your compliant mouth.
Richie couldn't wait to fully have his way with you, hell, in this moment even he knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. You did so good for him.
The two of you sat in silence, after Richie carried you to your bedroom, Richie standing between your legs, leaning over you as you pecked his lips, “You can stay the night, if you want,” you offered sweetly.
-
Richie was all yours and he understood that, one-hundred percent. How could he say no to those eyes, those same eyes that soaked his in as you came to a climax, how could he say no to you?
“Y’want me to stay?” He prodded.
You smiled, kissing the pendant of his gold chain that hung in front of you, “I want you to stay.”
Richie groaned, gently grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “alright, then you got me, baby,” he agreed, pressing his lips to your forehead, softly cradling the back of your head.
You weren’t sure what this would mean for your relationship, moving forward. Hell, Richie wasn’t even sure what this meant, but he knew that he wanted you, every part of you, he’d just hoped that you wanted all of him too.
-
i hope you all enjoyed part three - now things are going to finally get fun <3
#richie jerimovich#richie jerimovich x reader#the bear fanfiction#the bear#richie jerimovich fanfic#richie jerimovich imagine#richie jerimovich smut#the bear fic#the bear imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto
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THREEKVENT NAVIGATION
sub bruce wayne soft dom gn reader handjob
Bruce Wayne leaned against the brick wall, his suit uncomfortably sticking to his skin with how badly he’s been sweating. Each movement caused his breath to hitch, the material grazing the cut on his side. Thankfully not deep, but it hurt like a bitch.
He reached over, unlocking the window. Bruce found himself returning late at night to your apartment after encounters with criminals, taking in more hits than normal for a proper excuse.
Fate happened. You were a kind stranger, he was injured, and he needed help. Eventually, it remained like that for a while. He’d be in one place, some sort of wound visible, and you’d take him in. His eyes had watched you like a hawk, grunting and squirming away from the slightest of advance on instinct.
Embarrassingly enough, he immediately melted into your gentle touch. You guided him, made him feel what it was like to be openly vulnerable with someone else present. It’s wrong. You’re a civilian, continuously helping Batman would put your life at risk.
He feels guilty about it. You’re too kind for him, never daring to stay close to him than is necessary and choosing to respect his personal space. It was welcomed at first, but he wants more of it, more of you.
The only time he’ll actually touch you is when the pain is incredibly overwhelming his senses, which has him catching your wrist accompanied by a restrained grunt. Like he’d been burned, he’d pull back once reality crashed back down. He can’t, he shouldn’t. He’s putting you in danger.
Damn it all to hell.
Bruce tripped, stumbled, landing right on your lap. How convenient, he thought. He held himself upright, clutching the top of the couch’s backrest in a death grip, eyes wide. Bruce frantically searched your face, analyzing your reaction. “I’m—” He’s cut off when you pull him closer, gasping in surprise.
“It’s okay.” You reassure him, a soft smile gracing your lips and he wants to kiss you senseless. Until you can’t feel your hands, your face, or use that smart brain.
He stays like that, straddling your hips as you clean the wound on his side. It’s taking everything in him for his thoughts not to drift towards sinful ideas, borderline unprofessional.
He can’t help it.
Every touch, even an accidental brush on his skin has his breath hitching, anticipation thrumming in his veins. Heat pools deep within him, leaving him aching. He hopes you don’t notice, pants tightening and he’s almost painfully hard.
You do. Of course, you do. Right when you finish patching him up, earning a few pained groans, you halt him from standing up and leaving. “Batman.”
Oh fuck. Bruce is doomed. He wants to sink into the floor, or maybe the wall would be better. You know how he truly feels about the situation, and this is the last time he’ll ever see you. Panic rises, but he doesn’t allow it to outwardly show. His palms suddenly become all clammy, sweat dotting his forehead—
“May I?” Damn you.
Your hand settled on his muscled thigh and he has to suppress a shiver. Your fingers inched closer to where he needed you the most, just a little bit higher. But then you stop. Bruce whines.
“Please,” Batman didn’t beg, never did. “Please, I-I need it.”
He panted, excitement delivering a spark of heat that rushed straight to his core. His arms surrounded your shoulders, trapping you in his hold as he leaned down to your neck to hide in shame. He assists you in pulling down his suit enough to expose his glistening cock, pre-cum oozing from his slit.
Bruce felt like a wreck, lips in a tight line to prevent any embarrassing sounds from leaving his throat. Your thumb swiped across the cockhead, pressing down with enough pressure to force out a choked gasp from him.
“Don’t hold back,” You whisper directly into his red-tinted ear. He felt his hole clench around nothing, your words making him light-headed and he involuntarily bucks his hips against your touch. “I’ve got you, c’mon. Let me hear you.”
His breath stutters when you begin to gently trace the angry veins, moaning softly as he pulsates in your grasp. It’s been too long since he’s had someone—anyone—to touch him intimately, but never like you are now.
Your fingers wrap around his cock, slicking up your palm. It’s a slow pace, guiding him to a gradual orgasm. Gods, fuck, why were you being like this? He’s uncertain whether he enjoys how you’re treating him as though he’s made of glass that could shatter any unforgiving moment or if he should beg for you to fuck him rougher, make him go all dumb and drunk off the feeling of you.
He desperately ruts against you, it was selfish but the both of you knew he needed it. “Mmm.. fuck, I–” He gasps when you jerk him off a bit quicker, coming up to tease the underside of his tip every single time. Throbbing at the increased pace, he felt his eyes roll back into his skull. “more, ah ah mngh, more please.”
Bruce knew his manners, with his skin absolutely flushed and mind consumed with lust and greed to taste and take. “Yeah? Keep talking for me.” You urged, twisting your wrist as his pre-cum lathed up your hand, producing so much he seems like he’s right there. “Feels so g–good.” He whimpers, thighs trembling as his knees were beginning to fail on him.
Your too-good praise didn’t help him, at all. He felt young all over again, horny and wanting. “Beautiful,” you whisper, “need me to help you, don’t you, B?” The air gets knocked out of him, leaving him panting. He can barely feel his brain, all sensations leading to your hand pumping his wet cock.
“Need you,” He didn’t care how pathetic he seemed in this state, all he knew how desperate he was for you with your slick palm teasing his tip, rubbing in little quick circles. “ngh, so bad...”
Bruce Wayne knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, but he wants you to stay with him. He could protect and provide for you. Who else would you want to be with besides him? That’s right. No one.
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I’m cackling at the idea of the bayverse boys going through the “baby’s first swear” moment
Since the kiddos live in the sewer and all the turtles don’t seem like the type to swear around their kids (maybe Raph if especially angry) they would prolly end up learning it from Vern or Casey.
Like just imagine any of the guys chilling with their kids, and then their little toddler son/daughter knocks over their juice cup and they just go “Shit” in their lil innocent kid voice with a grumpy pout, meanwhile their dads have snapped a wide eyed stare to them cuz WHERE did you hear that word?!-
Obvs Leo would probably be the one who hates swearing the most and would be pretty angry in the moment but how would they all handle the aftermath? Like would they implement something sorta like a swear jar system? Would they just give their kids a warning? Interrogate their family to find out who taught their kid to swear?? The chaos that would follow sounds hilarious!
Your Kids’ First Swear Word (Fluff/Crack)
Children Series
Bayverse!Turtles x reader
A/N: I am Danish, and in Denmark, cursing is an important part of our culture. No beeping out curse words here! We say the shit fucking proud and fucking loud!🗣🇩🇰 Sure, we tell children that it’s bad, but we don’t care too much. Remember, the Danish versions of TMNT 1987 and 2003 had the turtles cursing. I learned a specific word for retard, because Shredder kept using it on Bebop and Rocksteady😂 But the turtles are American, and that is different, so here you go. Hope you’ll enjoy💚
Warnings: Cursing lol.
Leonardo:
Romeo is 10, Marcello is 7, Gerardo is 4.
The children always loved when uncle Vern, uncle Casey and aunt April came to visit in the lair. Other than their mother and aunts, these were the only human connections the kids had.
Funnily enough, the children took a strong liking to Vern, always hanging around him whenever he came to visit, which was way less than Casey and April. But why did the kids like Vern so much? Maybe it was his strong reaction of confusion and slight annoyance when one of them came running, wanting some sort of attention from him. Especially Marcello, who found that if he tugged enough at Vern, the human would start muttering all sorts of strange words under his breath, almost like he was spitting them in the boy's direction.
The other kids took notice of this as well, especially Gerardo who started taking on his older brother’s habit of bugging Vern whenever he was around, just to hear the strange words that he would mumble. Words that Gerardo found absolutely hilarious, and would save in his memory for a lifetime. Because then he learned what those words meant… or sorta.
Vern, Casey and April was once again visiting the lair, coming to eat dinner with the large underground family. In these cases they all ate together in the living area, at a bunch of tables, all lined out in one liner continuation. It was here, in the middle of conversations and laughter, that Gerardo suddenly perked up out of nowhere, in a way that only made sense for a child his age.
“Uncle Vern taught me a word!”, he said proudly to you and Leo, as he suddenly remembered one of the words Vern had said last time he visited, kicking his feet under the table in excitement.
“And what is that word?”, you asked smiling, eyeing Marcello as he poured up a glass of water for Romeo, no indication in the slightest for what was about to come out of your sons mouth.
“Shitling!”, Gerardo yelled out proudly.
Silence fell over all the adults at the table, all while the children kept talking and yapping. You and Leo made wide eyed eye contact, before slowly turning your attention to Vern, who sat frozen with his fork halfway into his mouth.
Needless to say, but from that day, Vern really had to restrain his vocabulary whenever he was around the kids.
Raphael:
Joan is 11, Minerva is 7, Ragnar is 4.
With your husband’s foul mouth, one would not be blamed for believing that Raph had been living his whole life on a ship out in the big open ocean, instead of in the sewers below New York City. It had long gotten Raph into trouble with his own father, often being the reason he would find himself in the hashish. Yet he never seemed to learn from his punishments.
Even as you and Raph got together, his foul mouth would be going. Never because of you, no no, never you. You could never do anything wrong in Raph’s eyes. No, Raph would curse at pretty much anything else. His brothers annoyed him - curse. He was angry and needed to get his frustrations out with a good work out - curse. He accidentally burned himself when cooking - curse. He watched a game and either something good or something bad happened - curse. Raph was in a good mood, and he wanted to let you know just how happy he was - sweet words with curses for emphasis. In order words, cursing was just a part of Raphael’s natural vocabulary.
But when you and Raph started having children, your husband was forced to keep his colorful words for himself, only letting his curses fly when none of them was around, usually when they were in bed. But somehow, even when he kept a careful eye on who was around, your children managed to catch a few of those words.
It was just like any other day in the lair. Your children was playing in the living area, Minerva and Ragnar’s laughter ringing out loud from the couch while Joan watched them from the armchair, making sure that her little brother and little sister wouldn’t accidentally knock each other out in their little play fight. You and Raph sat just a small distance away, seeing your kids jump around, ready to intervene should something happen, when all of a sudden-.
“Asshole!”, Mini yelled out loud, causing her and Ragnar to laugh even louder.
You and Raph sat up straight, eyes wide in shock, not fully able to believe what you had just heard, when Ragnar piped up.
“Fuck face!”, he yelled, making Mini fall over on the couch, holding her stomach in laughter, almost falling off and onto the floor below. Ragnar, continuing the game he and his sister had going, stood up on the couch, his little form looking so adorable as he tried to square up. “Shit maggot!”
For a solid five minutes you and Raph sat in absolute shock, still processing what the two youngest of your angels had just blurted out. That was when Joan turned calmly towards the two of you, shrugging her shoulders.
“If you think this is bad, you should hear them when you’re not around”, she said, before turning her attention back on her siblings’ play fight.
After this you and Raph started keeping a sharp eye on your children’s vocabulary, and started cracking down harder on Raph’s own use of words.
Donatello:
Galileo is 12, Dorothy and Marie are 7.
For a long time, you and Donnie had had problems with Marie’s tendency to suddenly blurt out things. You could be sitting at the dining table with family and friends over, when Marie would all of a sudden turn towards Vern and ask; “why do you look like that?”
Vern would in turn look at Marie a little confused and ask; “look like what?”
“Like that”, Marie said, pointing at his face. “Ugly”.
Casey almost choked on his drink, and even Splinter fought not to smile. And it would have been slightly adorable, if it wasn’t for the fact that she did this quite often.
Marie didn’t say these things to be hurtful, no, she said these things because she was honest and curious. She never thought that the things that she said could be considered mean. She just wanted to know, and just like she had been taught; if you wanted to know something you would have to ask. That was something Donnie had taught her and her siblings, but never had he thought that it would lead to Marie being so blunt. So blunt that sometimes even her siblings were shocked.
But one this was being blunt, asking out of the blue questions that would take people aback, but never had Marie cursed. But that changed fast one day.
You, Donnie and your children were sitting in the kitchen, eating your breakfast together, talking about whatever things families would talk about in the mornings. Dorothy was telling Donnie about her big plans for the day, aka, dress up, while Galileo told you about a new video game he wanted to play soon, when suddenly Marie perked up with a question that had been playing on her mind.
“Dad?”, she asked, leaving the spoon in her cereal.
“Yes, sweetheart. What is it?”, Donnie asked, happy to see that Marie was at least asking permission to ask a question, instead of just blurting it out in the open.
“There’s a word I don’t understand. Do you know it?”
“What word is it?”
“It’s actually more than one word”, Marie said.
“Is that so?”, Donnie asked. “What are they?”
“Shut the fuck up, shit face”, Marie said, looking up to the side, as if she was trying to remember the exact words as she spoke.
You and Donnie were shocked, staring at her with wide eyes. Dorothy was confused, looking back and forth between her parents and her sister. But not Gali. Instead he gasped, looking offended.
“I told you to get out when I was playing that video game!”, he gasped. “You snuck back in?!”
“You didn’t lock the door”, Marie shrugged, continuing to eat her cereal while you and Donnie was still trying to process what just happened.
Michelangelo:
Sunny is 4, Luis is around 1.
Your dear, sweet little bundle of sunshine, Sunny, was at that period of her life, where she would push boundaries, and say all the words she heard around her, just to get a reaction out of her family members, sometimes even yelling instead of actually speaking. She had also recently had her first real temper tantrum, which, thankfully was rare for Sunny, but sadly not the last to come in the next few years.
Sunny had recently taken to asking you or Mikey for food, only to bring it to the couch, and eat and play with it, causing her to spill everywhere, which you and Mikey obviously wasn’t too happy about, causing you and your husband to put in all efforts to get rid of her habit. That even meant that Mikey could no longer bring snacks to the couch, as that would totally undermine all that the two of you had been working for.
But that didn’t stop Sunny from trying, often ending in failure, which resulted in her first temper tantrum, screaming over the fact that she wasn’t allowed to bring her dino nuggets to the couch, but would have to eat them at a table. That didn’t fly by Sunny, what so ever, causing her to scream and cry for two whole hours, making Luis just as fussy by the sound. Oh, it was exhausting.
But that still didn’t stop Sunny from trying. No, in fact it made her attempts more elaborate, sometimes even taking you and Mikey by surprise.
It soon became a matter of principle for Sunny. It was no longer about her getting to eat on the couch, but simply the act of bringing food to the couch without you and Mikey noticing it. Chips from the cupboard, a pizza slice, a handful of popcorn and one time even a frozen chicken. But soon, Sunny came up with what she considered a genius idea - a cup of juice. If she could bring that to the couch, she would have won the battle. And so, Sunny asked you for a cup of juice while sitting at the dining table, drinking half of the cup, before slowly sliding off her chair, making her way toward the living area with her small cup of juice in her hands.
Here Mikey was sitting in the armchair, bottle feeding Luis. That was perfect for Sunny. With her father’s attention grabbed by her baby brother, there was nothing that could stop her. And so, she quickly and silently made her way towards the couch, her half filled juice cup in her hands.
Once at the couch, she placed the cup on the soft couch cushion, letting it whopple when she then began to climb up on the same cushion, when the cup suddenly tumbled over, spilling juice all over the couch. The exact thing her parents didn’t want to happen. And that was when a word graced Sunny’s lips. A word she had never used before, yet she had heard it being spoken around the lair in situations like this.
“Shit”.
That was when she caught the attention of Mikey, who stood from the armchair, still with Luis in his arms, seeing the mess Sunny had made, her small curse still ringing in his ear.
After that day, Sunny was no longer allowed to bring food into the living area, with each curse word he said from that day forward, resulting in a week without dino nuggets.
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Smut about spoiling a smug cole after he scored a hat-trick
Hat-trick-cole palmer
Warnings: smut, porn w/out plot, unprotected sex. I think that's it but if there's more please let me know. I also don't like the ending at all so please don't judge me for it🙏🙏
First time actually publishing smut, so I'm sorry if it's not good or how you wanted it, but i hope you enjoy x
Cole lifts his head up off of the pillows and looks down to where you both connect and groans at the sight of a white ring around the bottom of his cock, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight baby, shit taking me so fuckin’ well, your doing such a good job.” Hands tight around your hips, he bucks his hips up, tip grazing your g-spot prefectly, it was enough to make your eyes roll into your head and feel things no man has ever made you feel before. “C’mon, baby,” cole grits out, he felt like he could cum again just from the way your pussy was tightening around him like a vice.
“I’ve got you, baby.” coles words send a shiver down your spine, and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your pussy flutters around him, “Fuck cole” you cry out. You wanted to spoil cole for playing so well on the pitch tonight and for scoring a hat trick but you didn't expect the night to go like this. After you told him that all you wanted to do tonight was to please him, he couldn't stop touching you. You thought one round would be enough to show how proud you were off him, but clearly not.
He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan you make as he begins to pound into you, only slowing down the slightest bit when you clench tighter around him. He genuinely didn't think you could get any tighter. Stars begin to cloud your vision, and the pleasure that you feel over takes every other feeling in your body.
You hear a string of cuss words leave his lips again. He drops his head back onto the pillows again and places his feet flat up on the bed. You let out a loud cry as he fucks back up into you faster than before, He’s speaking into your ear, but you cant register what hes saying as your orgasm begins to over cloud every sense in your body, leaving you shaking.
You drop your body down onto coles chest and let him continue to fuck up into you as your orgam overwashes you. You let out a small moan at the feeling of coles cum filling you up again for the second time tonight. You and cole just lay there catching your breaths before he begins to speak again, "you done such a good job baby, you feeling okay?" You can hear the slight concern in his voice.
Moving yourself up slowly being careful with his cock still buried inside of you, you look at him and smile,"I'm fine baby, that was perfect." You say throat sore from all of the moaning. You move yourself off of his chest and place yourself back on the bed, laying flat on your back.
You feel cole move closer towards you, he kisses your cheek before getting up off of the bed and making his way into the bathroom. You hear him start running a bath before returning back to your side to make sure you were still doing okay.
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I absolutely love your Keegan fics.
If you’d be willing, could you write some Jealous Keegan x F reader smut based on this scene from After We Collided.
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLWxKsTp/
Summer
Keegan x F!reader
Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, jealousy themes
A/N - sorry this took so long! I’ve haven’t written in such a long time so I hope this is everything you wanted ❤️
———
‘Hey!’ You laughed, clicking your fingers in Keegans face. Shaking his head gently he offered you a warm smile, acutely aware he’d been caught day dreaming. ‘It’s my round, what do you want?’ He pondered momentarily before settling on a pint of the newest IPA on offer.
He watched as you made your way to the bar, hips swaying with every step. Your baby blue summer dress accentuating every curve, every ripple of your soft skin. As he trailed his eyes up your body, he noticed a hand placed at the small of your back. Flashing his eyes towards the face of the intruder he could see it wasn’t someone he knew.
He felt tense instantly, fists clenched under the table, nails digging into his skin. He noticed his breath hitch in is throat, furious that someone else was touching you. Not that you were his to claim, you weren’t together. He knew you through your brother, he’d known you for years, you were just a friend.
The intruder pressed his lips against your cheek, his hand curling round your hips pulling you closer. Keegan felt his heart implode, acid coursed through his veins as he scrambled to keep in control. His mind raced, visions of the stranger fucking you, his fingertips grazing your skin, pulling at your hips as he buried his cock into you.
Not being able to take it anymore he shot up from his seat, the chair scraping across the wooden floor. It was enough to muster every single persons attention, all eyes fixed on him in that moment. Not that he cared. All but sprinting out the pub he charged his way through the plethora of patrons.
The fresh summers air sucker punched him, forcing the oxygen from his lungs. Sauntering over to his car he placed his hands on the hood, trying to ground himself. Why was he so wound up? Why did he feel so jealous? A flurry of emotions surged within him, unable to make sense of this sudden outburst.
And that’s when you showed up, because of course you did.
‘Keegan?! What’s wrong?’ You panted, pulling strands of hair out of your face. If his head had turned any faster he would have broken his neck. The low summer sun illuminated his steel eyes, full of an emotion you couldn’t quite understand. ‘You fuckin him?’ He snapped. Venom in his words.
Not being one to take anybody’s shit, especially Keegans shit, you squared up to him. He may be a marine, but he didn’t scare you. Not in the slightest.
‘What the fuck did you just say to me?’ You challenged, your eyes meeting his, seething with rage. ‘I said … are you fucking him?’ He closed the gap between the two of you even further, his breath brushing over your lips as he looked down on you. ‘And what on earth does that have to do with you? Of all people’ you spat.
Electricity surged in the air, skin prickling from the intense energy that swarmed between you.
‘So that’s a yes then?’ He said as he chewed his jaw, arms crossed with his biceps bulging from beneath his shirt. ‘No, it’s a mind your fucking business. Where has this even come from?’
Keegan had never acted like this before, he’d been protective of you, but never jealous.
Sighing he pinched the bridge of his nose, a single strand of black hair fell, framing his face. ‘Forget I even said anything’ he muttered under his breath as he turned away from you. ‘No, no, you don’t get to say that after making a scene. Why does this matter to you?’
‘It doesn’t.’
‘Clearly it does’, you said as you repositioned yourself in between him and his car.
Your back pressed against the black door frame, the metal molten from sitting in the sun. He remained silent, staring off into the surrounding fields. ‘I know him from work Keegan, he tries it on with me all the time but I’m not interested. You’d have seen that yourself if you’d had bothered to try and contain yourself. You’re my brother’s friend, not my brother. You don’t get to say who I can and cannot fuck.’
He chewed his jaw again, this time the muscle rippled beneath his skin, his pulse throbbing along his neck. Peering up at him you regarded him closely, wanting to see where this would go. ‘And what if I had fucked him Keegan? What then?’ His gaze deepened, hardened, as he placed his hands either side of your shoulders. Closing you in.
‘Him touching me? His body on top of mine? Kissing me … fucking me so so slowly? What would you do Keegan?’ You smirked at him, watching his face contort as his hands curled into fists. ‘Is that what this is about? You wanna fuck me Keegan?’ Placing your hands on his belt you pulled him slightly, biting your lip as you hummed. ‘You wanna feel me? Taste me?’
Pressing his hips against yours, you could feel his thick cock graze your thigh. He lowered his lips to your ear, his tongue running along his teeth. ‘Get in the fucking car.’
He all but manhandled you onto the back seat as you fell onto your back. Slamming the door shut he turned his attention to you. Your chest heaving as the sun strained to break through the blacked out windows. Pulling you by your hips towards him, he forced his knee in between your thighs causing you to gasp.
You grasped at his shirt pulling his lips to yours, they were unexpectedly soft. The kiss was forceful, with purpose, teeth clashing together as he pushed himself on you. His hands gripped at the flesh of your inner thighs as he coaxed you to grind on him. Deepening the kiss he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, before nipping it gently.
Rolling your hips you whined into the kiss, the pressure on your clit igniting something primal within you. Breaking the kiss you gasped for air, pulling at his neck as he littered your neck with kisses. He groaned against your skin, fingertips leaving indents in their wake.
‘Tell me to stop’ he whispered, his voice cracking, ‘tell me to fucking stop.’ You dragged your nails along his scalp, unable to find words, instead only strained whispers. His fingers grazed along your lace covered cunt, ‘don’t tell me who I can’t fuck’ you purred, pulling at his belt once more.
In a swift motion he hiked up your dress, finally revealing a delicate white thong. He groaned to himself as he yanked at his belt, the metal the only sound heard in between your shared gasps. Propping yourself on your elbows you watched with curiosity as he freed his cock. Your arousal soaking the fine piece of material.
Spitting into his hand he pulled them to the side as he massaged his thick cock, your eyes wide you were about to protest ‘wait!-‘
When he pressed the tip against your entrance stretching you out in one fluid movement. His head dropped as he stifled a laugh, one of pleasure or disbelief you weren’t sure.
Falling onto your back you squeezed your eyes shut, completely and utterly blissed out. Mouth agape as your desperate pussy welcomed him with open arms. ‘Oh fuck’ he drawled, pushing your hips into the leather seats. He began thrusting at a punishing pace, a man starved, needy. Euphoria is the only way he’d describe finally feeling you around him, finally seeing you beneath him.
His thrusts expelled all oxygen from you, leaving you panting, needing more and more. Choking on your gasps you dug your nails into his skin, feverishly rolling your hips, trying to feel more friction on your aching clit.
Noticing this he slowed his pace, allowing a ribbon of saliva to fall from his lips onto the throbbing bud. ‘Show me’ he hissed as he pulled at your fingers. Needing no more direction you massaged your clit, finally relieving some of the pressure. ‘Atta girl’ he praised, smirking down at you.
He resumed his previous pace, sweat now beginning to form on his brow. Gritting his teeth, watching as his cock slid in and out of your cunt, covered in your arousal. ‘You wish it was him fuckin you? Fuckin this needy little cunt?’
‘I … fuck … no, Keegan please’ you stammered, all coherency and logic completely voiding itself from your mind.
Cupping your jaw he ran his thumb along your bitten lip, he pulled down on it watching as your eyes fluttered closed. You welcomed his thumb into your mouth, sucking softly at the pad. ‘Cum on this cock sweetheart. Come on’ he prompted, words barely audible over the whines exuding from the back of your throat.
Your fingers still worked your clit as he maintained his pace, his mouth slightly agape as he whimpered from the sensation of your pussy around him. He felt you begin to tighten, knowing your climax was building. ‘Cum for me’ he whispered, his thumb still nestled between your lips.
Your muscles tightened as your body shook beneath him, back arched and toes pointed as the explosive release washed over you. ‘Fuck … good girl’ he praised, as his free hand caressed your hip. You led beneath him breathless, completely and utterly satisfied.
‘In me’ you whispered, although it verged on begging. His brow furrowed as he slowed his pace, hitting every crevice of your cunt, your sensitivity heightening every move. ‘Cum in me Keegan’ you stated much more harshly, ordering him almost. ‘Are you on …’
‘Yes, don’t stop’ you whined interrupting him, wrapping your thighs around him, pulling him closer.
Not needing anymore information he pressed both hands around your hips, a single strand of hair fell onto his face framing it perfectly. His jaw fell open as he squeezed his eyes shut, low moans and whimpers filled the space between your two sweat glistening bodies. Feeling him fill you completely, you bit your lip smirking up at him. Biting his lip he dropped his head, chest heaving with every breath.
Humming to himself he finally looked up at you, the orange glow from the sun mixed with the steel blue of his eyes as he took you in. You were glowing. He pressed his forearms each side of your head as he kissed you deeply. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for a very very long time’ he admitted, hovering his lips above yours. ‘Mmm I can tell’ you smiled, ‘wanna know something?’
He nodded.
‘So have I.’
#call of duty#keegan smut#keegan ghosts#keegan x reader#keegan p russ#keegan russ x reader#call of duty keegan#keegan russ#cod keegan#keegan cod ghosts#keegan russ smut
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hiii i have a request can u do austin teasing reader during events pls?
tease
reader has enough of austin’s relentless teasing
a little bit of plot, but majority is just filthy
warnings: smut, teasing, semi public, sort of sub austin? oral (m+f receiving), bathroom ‘sex,’ whiny austin, overstim. probably more but idk
thank you SO much for the request!! i hope i did it justice, but if i didn’t, feel free to ask again, and delve into the idea more, or any other requests y’all have, i’ll try to fulfill them. anyways, enjoy!
you’d been used to austin testing the limits at events; finding a darker corner to quickly paw at your boobs, or subtly brush past you and angle his hips forward in the slightest, pressing his clothed length against whatever you’d been dressed in that night; it was his way of telling you how pretty you looked, and how desperate he was to fuck you into the mattress as soon you you both got home.
the idea of being caught turned him on, without a doubt- but he knew better than to take any of his teasing to another level. his career was unimaginably important to him; it wasn’t up for compromise, and he took pride in the work he accomplished, always feeling a ripple of unabashed confidence whenever complimented by someone- especially you, on his efforts and devotion to the characters he plays,
little did you know how much the praise made him want to fuck you dumb, bury himself deep in you and beg you to tell him how good he was at it. you only took notice of this after he came almost instantly after you somehow thought to bring up a recent award show nomination of his during sex, whining about how you were so proud to have a “famous boyfriend who fucks me so good,” squirming as he drilled your pussy into the mattress.
this made you extra sure to praise him as often as you could in the days leading up to the award show. it boosted his ego in a filthy way, and you relished in the fact that your words had such an impact on him
when the day of the award show finally arrived, and you’d both made your way through a myriad of cameras and interviewers on the red carpet showering austin with compliments of the work on his nominated role. these visibly improved austin’s already ‘over the moon’ mood for the night, and they accompanied the dirty remarks you’d been purposefully making in the last few days, most recently whilst bouncing on his dick babbling about how you were “taking the cock of a hollywood star,” as his eyes rolled back in his head.
you both found yourselves sat in a relatively close proximity to the stage, the table in front of you laden with a dark cloth, which austin immediately took advantage of, putting his hand to work tracing abstract patterns on your thighs through the slit in your sleek dress. you were used to this, and he never took it farther than this, but he was relentlessly needy with all the commendation that had been thrown his way thus far in the night.
in an attempt at subtlety, he brought his hand up from its prior position, and interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a pleading look before squeezing your hand gently to communicate his sexual desperation to you:
“please baby- please, i need it so bad,”
he whispered against the shell of your ear. you’d decided to leave him almost writhing, not because it turned you on (which it did,) but because you knew how loud he could be, and at this point, after the array of compliments he’d gotten, even touching his cock over his clothes would exude whines and groans too loud to not draw attention to you two.
after sensing that you were not going to comply, he let out a barely audible whine, before resuming his previous task, this time with more vigour, his fingers hastily made their way up your leg and circled your inner thigh. you gave him a disapproving look, but didn’t have the self control to stop him. somehow, nobody had noticed yet, but you were sure your dress looked bunched at the mid riff as he lifted it higher tasking himself with pleasing you, maybe as a reward for complying and feeding into to his recently anointed cockiness.
his fingers pushed past your already scarce underwear, moving it to the side before working his fingers around in painfully slow circles, pushing deeper into your folds progressively.
“austin, stop- fuck, we’re gonna get caught,” you feigned confidence, failing and whimpering slightly as you leaned in his direction.
he only leaned in closer, breath hot against your skin: “can’t help it baby, you’re driving me crazy.”
as he continued his pursuit, it became clear that you were finding it harder and harder to control yourself, letting out occasional hums of pleasure and bringing your hand up to your mouth in a somewhat swift motion to stifle any escaping moans.
to allow himself to get deeper inside you, austin shuffled his chair closer to yours before planting a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, which, to anyone around you, would look like a quick act of endearment. frankly- having a ‘dirty little secret’ turned you on more than you’d like to admit.
his fingers stilled when another person you were too occupied to identify walked up to the your table, commending austin for his hard work, reaching out to shake his left hand all while his right hand remained still on your thigh, glossy with your slick
“thank you,” austin replied with a laugh, voice steady despite the situation unfolding below the tablecloth. “i really appreciate it.”
after they’d walked away, you’d decided you’d had enough teasing and abruptly got up, leaving austin’s hand slapping softly against his clothed leg as he looked up at you, big blue eyes laced with confusion and clouded with lust. he didn’t bother questioning as you mindlessly dragged him to the closest bathroom, figuring you both had enough time before anyone noticed you were gone
“baby, you look so divine i can’t keep my hands off you,” -austin practically melted against your body as he closed the door behind you both, locking it swiftly. he raked your dress up, making sure your skin was always touching in one way or another, hands desperately stroking up and down your thighs. he felt breathless without your touch, and you couldn’t bear to see him upset, drifting your hands up to messily tangle in his hair (his stylist would be sure to write you a personal death threat later)
he panted as he placed sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over your exposed neck. you finally gave him some friction.”i need you so bad baby, please touch me- please.”
untangling one of your hands from his hair, you outlined his prominent bulge through his pants. he stilled.
“fuck- fuck, please baby i need your mouth so bad- fuck!” austin whined, writhing for your touch, your warm mouth, your approval. he was too fucking far gone to narrow it down to one, he just knew he needed every single part of you.
you’d die before denying him, and you slid your hands down his now tight pants as you lowered yourself to the cold tile floor on your knees, before palming him, eliciting a string of praise from a very desperate austin, who, on a whim, grabbed your hand and pushed it harder onto his cock, throbbing with need.
“baby, i know you need it bad, but you gotta be patient,” you reassured him, coaxing him through the incessant yearning his hardness had left him with by finally undoing his dress pants and sliding them down enough to pull out his leaking cock. austin brought his hand to your cheek and cupped your face gently, looking at you with a filthy mix of adoration and lustful desire, eyebrows quirking up softly as your hand brushed against his length.
“i need you now, please pretty girl,”
you wasted no more time, taking his tip, red and leaking with anticipation, into your mouth. you gave him flat tongued licks from the thick shaft to the head as he groaned deeply, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure. it was fucking lewd honestly, and you knew you didn’t have much time before someone came knocking at the door of the small bathroom.
“fuck baby, you’re s’ good, ‘s like you were made for me, your mouth feels s’ good” he was drunk on arousal, words slurring as he babbled barely coherent praises. his fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your head as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length, the tip red and weeping with precum. the sensation was fucking overwhelming to him, and he bucked his hips forward slightly, unable to control himself.
“god- fuck, yes,” austin let out a breathy groan, his voice a low rumble. “just like that, baby. you’re so perfect, s’ good for me.”
you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him harder, feeling his cock twitch against your tongue. the obscenity exuded from the mix of his desperate whines and groans mixed with the gagging and wet noises coming from you bobbing on his thick cock only brought him closer. you could tell, and you wanted nothing more than to push him over the edge, to make him come undone right there, right then. you moved faster, taking him as deep as you could, your efforts accompanied by austin pushing your head farther on his cock until he hit the back of your throat, your nose nestled in the patch of hair above his shaft.
"please, don't stop," austin whined, his voice high-pitched and desperate. “i need it so bad. pleasepleaseplease.”
you didn't let up, your pace relentless as you took him deeper, faster. his moans turned into almost pitiful whimpers, each sound making you more determined to make him cum. you could feel his cock throbbing against your tongue, the tension building in his body. austin’s breathing grew ragged, his grip on your hair tightening. “i’m gonna cum, baby. fuck, i’m gonna cum.” with a final, deep thrust and a particularly breathy groan, he spilled into your mouth, his moans filling the small bathroom. you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, before pulling back and looking up at him with a satisfied smile.
before you could process, austin grabbed you by your wrists and gently pulled you up to your feet with a gentle kiss, pupils dilated and eyes dark with lust and genuine adoration for you. “need to make you feel good, please, you’ve been driving me crazy all night, baby” he whispered against your lips, his hands caressing your body. “wanna make you cum,” he panted against you, hot breath fanning across your skin making you shiver in anticipation.
after lifting your dress with one of his hands, he dropped to his knees wordlessly, warm breath ghosting over your already dripping core, sending shivers up your spine. your panties were fucking soaked, and he audibly groaned at the sight before him, basking in the glory of making you so wet without even touching you. he mouthed sweet kisses on your thighs, sucking and biting marks onto your skin as he used his other hand to tug at the sheer waistband of your underwear bringing it down, prompting you to step out of it. he effortlessly tucked your panties into the pocket of his dress pants after you’d stepped out them, making you moan out of just how dirty this whole situation was.
“austin, please, i need you baby, please touch me.” you whined, desperate to chase your release after seeing how good you’d made him feel.
without hesitation he latched onto you, his tongue moving with loving precision. you gasped, your hands flying to his already tousled hair, trying to keep yourself upright as waves of pleasure washed over you. his tongue worked it’s filthy magic, alternating between gentle flicks at your clit and slow, deep movements inside you. you were a babbling mess, your knees weak as you practically rode his face, his stubble brushing against your thighs as you clamped your legs around his head as much as the position allowed you. he relished in your moans, drinking up everything you were giving him- metaphorically and physically. the obscene noises coming from you, and his tongue swirling around your soaked clit were enough to make him insanely hard again. his hands help your hips gently but firmly to keep you steady, determined to make you cum.
“austin, fuck- i’m gonna cum” you tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a cry of pleasure as your orgasm swept through you, your body shuddering with the intensity of it. every muscle in your body was tense, hands anchoring themselves in his hair in an attempt at staying upright. your breathing became progressively laboured, and loud- ragged, each inhale and exhale a struggle as you tried to maintain some semblance of control. he made it impossible. his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs occasionally, attempting to ground you the way he held you was almost reverent, as if he was worshipping you, savouring the way your body responded to him. as he continued, he hummed softly against you, vibrations adding another layer to the already intense sensation. his eyes would occasionally flick up to meet yours, displaying a filthy mix of arousal and adoration. something about seeing you like this, completely undone because of him drove him fucking insane; the way your back arched, the way your head fell back, the way your breath hitched with every movement he made—it drove him wild.
your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, your body on the verge of giving out. the sensation was too much, too intense, and you could feel the edges of your orgasm building, threatening to crash over you. you tried to tell austin how close you were, but all that came out was a string of broken moans and gasps. he seemed to understand, though, tongue moving impossibly faster around your swollen bud, more insistent, as if he wanted to draw every bit of pleasure from you.
just as your body decided you couldn’t take it anymore, giving into the stimulation, he changed his technique, skilled tongue pressing flat against your clit and moving in slow, firm circles. the change in pressure and speed was your undoing. your body tensed, every nerve ending on fire, as you finally tipped over the edge. your orgasm hit you in relentless waves, crashing over you, pulling you under. you cried out against austin as your legs gave out, hands clamping around his shoulders. your whole body shuddered, convulsing with the force of it.
austin didn’t stop, didn’t let up, drawing out your pleasure, making sure you felt every second of your release. his tongue continued its assault, gentler now, easing you through the aftershocks, lapping at your clit to catch anything your body would give him. he murmured praises against your skin, voice soothing, grounding. you could feel his hands still holding you, steadying you, as your body slowly came down from its high.
as the waves of pleasure subsided, you were left trembling, weak, your body boneless and sated. austin gently kissed his way up your body, his touch tender, loving. he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and adoration, his lips glistening with your arousal.
“you taste so good baby, like fucking candy” he whispered, his voice husky, filled with affection. he kissed you hungrily, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy and sheer dirtiness of the moment almost overwhelming to you.
with a final, lingering kiss, he helped you back up to your feet, your legs still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm. “we should get back," he murmured, his voice a mix of laugher and satisfaction, a smirk lingering on his face as he chuckled at your fucked out state. “before anyone notices we're gone."
you nodded, still in the process of catching your breath, and began to straighten your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles left by austins desperate touches, and making sure you looked presentable. austin followed suit, his fingers running through his hair, fixing it as best as he could. his eyes never left you, a soft, lingering smile playing on his lips as he watched you.
“you look stunning baby,” he professed softly, his voice filled with awe. “even prettier now; fucking perfect, all for me.”
he opened the bathroom door slightly, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. satisfied that no one was nearby, he took your hand languidly and led you back towards your table. the sounds of the beginning of the ceremony began to fill your ears, a stark contrast to the obscenities of the bathroom.
as you approached your table, you could see that no one had noticed your absence, the guests engrossed in the ongoing ceremony. you slipped back into your seats, austin's hand never leaving yours. he’d lost all his nerves about winning the award at this point, satisfied that no matter the outcome of the night, he’d fuck you into oblivion as soon as you both got home.
#austin butler#he won btw#austin butler smut#austin butler x reader#austin butler x y/n#austin!elvis x reader#elvis#elvis presley#elvis 2022
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