#I’ve tried so hard to work on any of my drabbles all day and there has just been a wall

[collectivecloseness]

One thing is, if you had really bad executive dysfunction (like with depression, ADHD, etc) then not only would the fruity four take such good care of you, but they’d also make sure you never felt bad about it.

Anything you need help with, one of them is already extending a helping hand. If something’s going on, and there’s a reason it’s worse atm, they’re all sitting down to make sure whatever’s bothering you is fixed. And they know sometimes it just happens, there’s no reason behind it, and they won’t get mad at you for falling behind, even if you’re scared they will be. Once you explain about your ed, they really try their best to be understanding, I think some of them have even experienced it too (definitely Eddie has).

You’re their number one priority. So they’ll either lift you up and go help you do the thing you need, or they’ll take care of it for you if they can so you’re not stressing. They get in a semi-bad habit of doing the things themselves, because they don’t want you to feel bad or worry, and they want to help! Even if sometimes they know they should let you do it yourself, just with their help, they can’t help taking care of things for you! They’re doing it for you before they can even think about it. Or they’ll even tell you how it’s not important, and nothing to even worry about doing at all.

They just try to make sure you know that they could never think any less of you for what, struggling with an actual neurological issue, that already makes you feel bad for not being able to deal with it in the first place? They couldn’t do that to you. Their number one priority is just making sure you’re looked after, you’re loved, and you fully know it.

[kierahn]

yandere ! ceo x stripper ! male reader for @rin-sama-writes.

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

hi, i read your ideas in my inbox and i just had to make a quick drabble about it :] i’ll be making a full one some other time though since i still have 3 prompts to work on. (also, i accidentally published your previous ask before i got to complete the draft, so it got deleted. i’m so sorry,, 🥹🙏)

this is more of a power bottom reader, but i'll do a couple of dom readers soon. this just is a small warm up lol.

× cero had a long and tiring day of filling up paper works, organizing documents, attending several meetings, and the likes; usual CEO stuff. so to reward himself for a job well done, he decides to ask his driver to drive him to your workplace after work. he deserved a treat or two from you.

× the moment he stepped foot inside the nightclub you worked at, it was like a message had been sent to all the present employees. everyone scurried away the moment cero blessed the room with his presence, rushing to prepare the v.i.p room that he had built specifically for you and him to have some fun alone; away from prying eyes. no one deserved to see you in that blissed out state but him.

× the performers that you worked with on stage stopped to inform you that a client had requested your presence in the v.i.p room.

× it was him again, the man whose name you learned was cero, dressed in designer clothes from head to toe and a branded watch around his wrist. everything about him screamed rich which made him an immediate target for you. it was so easy to have guys like him all hooked up on you like some moth drawn to a flame.

× usually, cero would tease you or whistle upon seeing you enter the room, but he was strangely silent tonight.

× you approach the leather couch where he was seated and noticed how his usually neat appearance seem to be absent today. his hair was slightly a mess and his tie was crooked. he looked tired overall.

× normally, you wouldn’t care much about his wellbeing. however, you couldn’t help but notice how cero didn’t seem to be performing his best today. his thrusts were sloppy and he wasn’t hitting the right spots for you to feel good. even prepping you was a major fail ! you ended up scratching his back when he tried to put himself inside, expressing your discomfort.

× with a sigh, you stop him. “i think i’ve seen enough,” you say exasperatingly, detaching yourself from him. his grip on your waist seem to tighten, a conflicted look on the ceo’s face. he almost looked like a kicked puppy.

× he tried to protest, but you stop him by holding up a finger to his lips. “look, sir, i can see that you’re tired.” you trail your hand to cup cero’s cheek and glaze your thumb under his eye. you stayed seated on his lap, cero’s tired eyes gazing up at your own.

× “i’m fine. i’ll manage, i just need you right now.” cero stubbornly protested, a slight rasp in his voice. his hands trailed down your waist to resume what you two were previously engaged in, but you grab his wrists gently. “say.. how about i do all the work tonight ?” you insisted.

× it wasn’t like you were worried about him, you simply couldn’t handle any more of his sloppy attempt to pleasure you.

× you left no room for an argument. you shut down his protests about how he possibly couldn’t let you do that, or how he had been doing just fine doing the work. maybe in a normal night he would be good at it, but not tonight.

× you got off his lap and positioned yourself in between his thighs. no doubt, he was still rock hard and raging due to your interruption, but cero still kept trying to insist that you didn’t have to.

× when he tried to grab a fistful of your hair to stop you, you grab his wrist first, sending him a look of warning. he really needed to keep his hands to himself.

× just as the thought crossed your mind, your gaze wandered over to his crooked tie. ‘that could work.’

× without explaining any further, your hands worked to undo cero’s tie. he didn’t seem to have any violent reaction towards it, so you assumed that he was fine with you doing so.

x as soon as you finished removing his tie, you held his wrist together and tightly tied them up together with his expensive tie, much to his surprise.

x “for now, i’ll do all the touching.” you say with an edge to your tone, meaning that what you said was absolute. “if you try to touch me even once, you’ll have to forget about getting what you want.”

× cero furrowed his brows at your words. were you ordering him around ?

× but before he could express a single word of protest, a jolt of his thigh caught him off guard. he bit his lower lip to suppress the lewd sounds that threatened to escape his lips.

× your tongue wrapped around his tip sent him into overdrive. he immediately hardened inside your mouth, a small groan escaping his lips.

× “wai..t, y/n– ngh!” his muscles tensed when you started to move. holy shit. it was as if all his stress melted away.

× it was a foreign feeling for cero to feel so stripped of his control over his own release. it was all in your hands now.. or well, mouth.

x as soon as you got a hold of his whole length in your mouth and you assured that there would be no gag reflex holding you back, that was when you went all in. cero’s ragged breathing and low moans filled the spacious room, along with the sound of your muffled groans.

x it took him a lot of willpower to hold back from forcing you down on his cock and hitting the back of your throat, but he knew that he couldn’t touch you. damned tie.

x cero threw his head back, cold sweat dripping from his forehead as his fingers twitched and itched to lay a hand on you. a quiet whimper escaped from the ceo’s lips when you slowed down to tease him a little.

x when you looked up at him, you were met with cero’s eyes that held a hint of pleading. a plead for relief perhaps. it was quite a new sight, but not an unwelcome one. you were so used to seeing him act so prideful about making you feel good, seeing him in this state wasn’t so bad.

x a slight chuckle. the vibration from your mouth was, surprisingly, enough to make the ceo finish inside your mouth. you slowly pull out, his load staining the inside of your mouth and your tongue white.

x who knew he was this sensitive. you avert your gaze to study cero’s aftermath. his hair clung to his skin that glistened with sweat, eyes clouded with bliss, and he panted heavily like some dog in heat.

x you couldn’t help but smile in mischief at the realization that you could put a powerful man like him in such a state.

[withleeknow]

Helloooo! I’ve never done a request before so I hope this comes off okay :)

I love the song “flower line” by om shankar, it makes me smile every time. So, I was wondering if you could do a drabble based that.

If not, maybe the prompt: “real smooth, tripping over air”

If you take this request, thank you so much but if not I completely understand 🫶

call it what you want.

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader genre/warnings: strangers to lovers, college au, fluff; some light cursing, very unedited i am half asleep rn lol, italics indicate flashbacks word count: 1.4k note: hi anon! thank you for the request hehehhee. i decided to go with the prompt and also you didn't specify a member so i went with hyunjin, i hope that's okay :) happy reading <33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

"real smooth, tripping over air."

hyunjin came back to the table and set down two coffees, the content of seungmin's plastic cup spilling over the rim just a little bit when hyunjin pushed the beverage toward him rather aggressively.

"shut up," hyunjin grumbled, covering his face with his hands as he wallowed in his misery. "literally shut the fuck up."

it was burnt into hyunjin's subconscious, the feeling of utter embarrassment when he had quite literally scrambled to stand up after you called out his order number and stumbled as he made his way over to the counter.

this was the fifth time that seungmin had been dragged to the campus cafe where you worked part-time as a barista, just to provide emotional support while hyunjin tried not to chicken out of chatting you up. every time, hyunjin swore today's the day, and every time, he went home with his tail between his legs and a brain that was wiped clean the very second you smiled at him.

seungmin only laughed despite losing a few drops of his coffee to hyunjin's dramatic ass. it was entertaining to see his friend like this, panties all twisted in a bunch over a crush on a cute girl whose number he couldn't even muster up the courage to ask for.

"you're such a pussy," seungmin tutted, shaking his head in disapproving amusement and taking a sip of americano as he looked at hyunjin who seemed like he could have a mental breakdown if even a gust of wind were to breeze past him right now. "it's not like you've never asked for a girl's number before. just do it."

"do you want to broadcast my shame to everyone here? keep your loud ass voice down." hyunjin removed his hands from his face and hunched forward to scold his friend in a half-whisper, even though the cafe was busy that day and it was almost impossible for you to hear him from all the way in the corner and over the lively chatter of the other students filtering in and out of the place. "you don't know what it's like. she might be the prettiest girl i've seen in my entire life. i go stupid every time i look at her."

"to be fair, you go stupid pretty often," seungmin said, which only earned him another murderous glare from across the table. "for real, why am i wasting my time here with you if you're just not gonna do anything? you're not even paying for my coffee. i could be in my room sleeping and saving money right now."

a pathetic whine slipped from hyunjin's lips before he sneaks a glance in your direction, where you were focused on writing down some guy's order by the register. "i don't know what to say!" he groaned, "it's so hard. ughhh."

he remembered the first time he saw you, and it wasn't in this cafe. it was at some lame party that he was forced to attend, where the drinks were shitty and the music was even shittier. he was sipping on cheap beer when he spotted you talking to another girl in the corner of the room, both of whom he'd never seen on campus before. what caught his attention was your easygoing smile and how your mere presence just seemed to pull him in despite the roomful of people separating you. he couldn't look away, and as if you could sense his stare on you, you'd turned your head and met his eyes. you'd sent that same charming smile his way, and hyunjin was enamored for the rest of that evening.

he lost sight of you soon after though, and none of his friends knew who you were. that was that; you were a pretty girl that he saw at a party once, whose name he didn't even know but whose smile he had memorized.

then three weeks later, as though the universe had given him a second chance, he saw you again when he came to the cafe for a quick bite before class. you'd smiled at him the same way you did at the party, and he was tongue tied.

fast forward another month and here he was, with his head in his hands as he agonized for the nth time over what to say to you other than "hi," "one iced americano please," and "thanks."

"just tell her you think she's cute and you'd like her number," seungmin said. "it literally doesn't get more straightforward than that. the worst thing she can say is no."

this was how their last four visits to the cafe went, the conversation always ending with hyunjin neglecting his friend's advice in favor of sneaky glances and a mouth shut tight when he failed to hype himself up enough to utter a few words to you.

"if you don't do it today, you're on your own," seungmin told him when he was only met with silence from hyunjin's end. "i'm not coming back with you again. the coffee isn't even good."

"wait, come on, dude. just... wait. i need to think."

"stop thinking. nothing in that brain of yours is going to help."

"hey!"

"are you gonna do it or not?"

"hold on, i need a plan."

seungmin rolled his eyes before he downed the remaining few sips of his coffee. "you know what? if you don't ask for her number, maybe i'll just do it myself." then he was already coolly standing up and heading in your direction without even looking to see if hyunjin heard him correctly.

"seungmin!" hyunjin called, hurriedly gathering his phone and wallet and scrambling to catch up with his friend in a panic. they both stopped in front of the register, where it was thankfully empty now and no one nearby had to watch hyunjin burn himself to a crisp with embarrassment.

"how can i help you?" you asked, looking at them curiously when hyunjin's eyes flit between you and seungmin in a panic.

"uhm... i.... uh..."

"this is hyunjin." seungmin was the coherent one between the two of them as he clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder with a sly grin. "he thinks you're cute and wants to get your number."

"the end," hyunjin says flatly. "the rest was history. you were there, you know what happened."

"come on, please?" you pout, tugging on his arm as you lean closer to nudge your nose against his cheek. "i've only ever heard it from seungmin and he doesn't tell it like you do."

he glances at you from the side. "what do you want me to tell you? that in that moment i considered running out the door and not stopping until i found the nearest ditch to fall into?"

you laugh, all light and airy and it still makes hyunjin as smitten as he was that afternoon in the cafe. "no, the other part."

"the part where i actually did kinda try to run away and bumped into someone and spilled coffee all over myself? and you had to take me to the backroom to let me borrow someone's shirt?"

this draws another giggle out of you as you recall the moment, when you had been so endeared by him that it was hard to let him go home afterward without your number saved in his phone. "yeah," you say, utter fondness dripping from your voice. "that part."

"that was the most embarrassing day of my life. i made a complete fool of myself."

"you were adorable. it's my core memory of you."

"i'm glad you found my humiliation entertaining."

you roll your eyes half-heartedly before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek to appease his faux sulk. "we wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for your dramatic overthinking ass that day, would we? unless... you'd rather take it all back."

hyunjin softens in an instance, huffing out a breath as he mumbles bashfully, "i didn't say that..."

"you big baby," you tell him with your lips still ghosting the side of his face. you're so close like this, so tightly pressed up against each other on your couch that you can feel the warmth of his body and the thumps of his heart when you slide your hand over his chest. you give him another peck on the cheek, then you smile against his skin. "happy six-month anniversary."

there's a light blush that rises from his neck until it covers his face in the most beautiful rosy shade. a shy grin, his eyes turning into little crescent moons from the happiness that spreads from his head down to his toes, then hyunjin is smoothly turning over so he could pin you underneath him, where he presses his lips against yours so your smiles could meet.

"happy six months, baby."

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.05.2024]

[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀: 𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕒 𝔹𝕖 𝕊𝕠 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: you and Neteyam are the two prodigies of the Omaticaya, and while that unmoving fact brought you together as children, now, as adults, it brings you to your knees, as each day is just another opportunity for you to hurt each other in any and every way your minds could conjure up.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, enemies-to-lovers, strong language, mentions of violence, blood, neteyam being an absolute dick, mentions of reader being choked (not in the fun way)

wc: 5.4k words

a/n: after a much longer wait than anticipated, my enemies-to-lovers fic is officially here, and I'm so excited to start a new series. As much as I love the one shots and the requests and the drabbles, I am a series enthusiast at heart, and this is something i'm really looking forward to, as I find this whole idea very challenging and hope i do it justice. pls enjoy besties, and as always, thank you for every like, reblog, reply, it means the world x (thank you very much to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: syä - bitter, rumaut - cannonball fruit tree, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, parultsyìp - children

: ̗̀➛ next chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I tried to look for the best in the worst, but like, fuck me, that caused a commotion

You're lucky I'm a private person, I’ve quietly carried your burden

And everyone thinks you're an angel, but shit, I would probably use different wording

“You know, syä, one day, I’m going to be better than you at this, and that day, you will have to swallow your words, and I think that’ll be very hard for you to do.” 

“You know, Lo’ak, if you one day do beat me at anything, then I’ll be more than happy to swallow my words. I’ll even swallow my tongue, if you want.” You chuckled as you propped yourself onto a thin branch of a rumaut, maybe 50 metres from the target on the ground, and dangling from it, upside down, you took aim, focusing intently with one eye closed. Breathing in, you took the shot, and watched as it landed straight in the middle, right next to your last arrow, very far away from Lo’ak’s arrows, which were buried somewhere so obscure, you couldn’t even spot them anymore. 

“You suck.” Lo'ak puffed, rolling his eyes annoyedly. You laughed and reclaimed your spot next to him, nudging him softly with a hand.

“No, skxawng, you suck. That’s why we’re here.” 

These little training sessions have become one of your favourite things to spend your afternoons doing. They started a few weeks ago, when Lo’ak came by unannounced to your tent, his tail sheepishly between his legs. He hated that he had to ask, his enormous pride wounded and scarred, but he figured finally building up the courage to ask you to train him in his bow and arrow practice was better than asking his brother and once more proving the chasm between their skill level true. You were cocky and arrogant on the surface, but deep down, Lo’ak knew you had a heart of gold and wouldn’t judge and, at the end of the day, would do anything for him, and for his whole family.

Well, almost his whole family.

You found the oldest Sully sibling by his tent, masterfully skinning a yarik from his latest hunt. Just like everything else Neteyam did, he excelled at it. He looked peaceful and deep in thought as he worked, expression which quickly melted into annoyance when his lips pursed in a tight line and his eyes hardened, as soon as they spotted you making your way towards him. You smirked when you noticed the change, loving to see him so on edge whenever you invaded his personal bubble, which happened to be all the time, since you were as good as Neytiri and Jake’s adoptive daughter. 

You loved Neytiri and Jake. You owed them everything you had, everything you were. After your parents’ death, they provided you with the support and love and care needed to not fall into the pits of despair that came with being orphaned, with being all alone. They saw something in you, ever since you were a child, and trained you side by side with their oldest son, Neteyam. Quickly, it was obvious to everyone who paid attention that you were a prodigy, just like he was. Neteyam liked you when you were kids, and you liked him, too. You loved him, in fact. He was your best friend, and you were his. It was hard not to be each other’s best friends, when you spent so much time together, when you shared every blister, every bloodied gash, every muscle cramp from practice. You shared the good and the bad, and it was just the two of you. Nobody else knew what you went through or could possibly understand, nobody else had to spend their whole childhood being honed into the perfect warriors, the future of the Omaticaya strength. Kids played and kids laughed and kids held hands splashing in the nearby river, but you and Neteyam cleaned each other’s wounds and gave each other words of encouragement, and soft, shy smiles as your eyes met across the practice field. 

That was all in the past. Very far in the past. So far so, it was hard for you to conceptualise that it happened in this life, and it wasn’t some sort of fantasy you made up in your head, because there was nothing left of the warmth or the camaraderie you once shared. Whereas before he was a warm shelter from the storm in your life, now he was the storm, cold and ruthless, out to get you and to hurt you, to turn your limbs cold and your heart numb. You don’t know when this happened. You just know that at some point around when you were 12, Neteyam started pushing you away, until one day you were so far away, you were just a dot in his life, so far removed from the vast, centre-stage line you used to represent, a line between his past and future, between a friend and something more, something better, something permanent. 

It’s been 7 years since. Seven years since Neteyam was more or less a stranger, albeit an annoying, aggravating stranger. Because a stranger, you could ignore. A stranger, you didn’t have to see every damn day, in practice, in stings, in battles, at breakfast, lunch and dinner. A stranger might have ignored you, or pretend you don’t exist, but not Neteyam. Neteyam was determined to make your life a living hell, to make you feel as unwelcome and inadequate as humanly possible, and so you resigned yourself to returning the favour, because you very rarely ever lost to him, and you weren’t planning on starting any time soon. 

When you and Lo’ak approached, you watched as he sized you up, his eyes travelling down your body, lingering for just a second longer on your chest, covered in flowy, silken fabric, your signature look. You loved the beads, and the feathers that usually concealed Na’vi bodies, but what you loved even more was the feel of the luxurious, soft material that you took great pleasure in making yourself from a secret, coveted technique your mum taught you as a child, before she died. You tried to ignore how his stare made you feel, how the tingling that always appeared on your skin matched the bubbling feeling in your stomach, and you pushed it down, choosing to believe that’s just the feeling of hatred, of deep, intense dislike, that you didn’t feel for anyone but him.

“If you’re not actually going to contribute anything of use to the clan, you might as well train instead of wasting time and dragging Lo’ak to your level. Are you not in enough shit with father as it is, baby bro?” 

You didn’t even look at him as you walked past, opening the flap to the Sully family tent. 

“Well, Neteyam, not all of us have to try so hard all the time to keep up. Some of us are just naturally better than others.” You say with a sly smirk, almost able to hear the steam coming out of his ears, before you entered the tent and closed the flap behind you.

“The two of you will kill each other one day, you know that, right?”

You rolled your eyes at Kiri, who was dutifully making healing pastes by mixing it in a small pot on the fire, and removed the bow from around your torso, tossing the quiver on the ground and sitting next to it, warming your hands off the heat emanating from it. 

“Or fuck each other, one of the two.”

“Lo’ak!” You and Kiri hissed at the same time, and you threw a small rock you found on the ground at him, hitting him right in the middle of his forehead. You smiled, satisfied when he yelled in pain. You never missed. 

“Ow?! You’re so mean sometimes, no wonder he doesn’t like you! I’m just saying, you guys always have sexual tension, and I’m definitely not the only one that thinks so. Spider says so, too.” 

“Oh, well if Spider says so, then it must be true! It couldn’t be that you’re both children, and your mind hasn’t left the gutter since you first had a girl let you into second base.” 

“Ah… Mira… she was something, wasn’t she? Haven’t seen her in a while.” 

“Yeah, she’s hiding from you.” 

Lo’ak returned the rock in a pointed throw, that you dodged effortlessly, smirking in his direction. 

“See? Mean.” 

Walking through the village in the late afternoon, you are pleasantly surprised at the still bustling atmosphere, all the men, women and children contributing in their own respective ways to the clan’s prosperity and success. People were returning from hunts, crafting arrows, sharpening knives, preparing new garments for the warriors that will be leaving for a new mission early in the morning. It filled you with a sense of wonder, this clan, despite having lived and breathed in it your whole life, it never ceased to amaze you, how beautiful, how grand, how unified it was. It made you determined, more and more each day, to fight the fight, to never give up or give in, to always strive to be better, stronger.

It was a big one tomorrow, a big train filled with guns and supplies, protected by 10 helos and armed guards, that were needed to the clan and would constitute a big loss for the humans. A win-win, as Jake would sometimes say. You couldn’t even remember when the first one of these missions started. It’s been more than 5 years since the humans have returned, 5 years since life as you knew it changed forever, 5 years since death and hurt followed you everywhere you went, since every day felt like a battle for survival, for your clan, and your people, and your world. Back then, that first mission terrified you, it ate at your soul and your body, manifesting itself in chills and shakes, in crying eyes and trembling lips.

You remember that day like it was yesterday, you remember how you and Neteyam were the youngest in the war party, how for the first time in years, you felt a connection to the boy as your eyes met on your respective ikran, and you saw in them pain, and fear… and yearning. For a second, he was your friend again, and the future you dreamt about as a kid, one where it was just you and him, facing this harsh world together, came back in full force, taking the breath out of your lungs. But the second passed and so did his gaze and his vulnerability, and his walls never diminished, but only got thicker and more fortified in time, and yours did too, as a result. It hurt you, his behaviour, how sudden the change had been and how drastic, how he pushed you away with no goodbye, with no chance to defend yourself, how no matter how much you tried to mend it, it just ended up making it worse. So after a while, you gave as good as you got, and blow by blow, your relationship died like soldiers on the battlefield, broken and bruised, rotting away, only the beautiful memory of what used to be left behind. 

Training was still in full force at the edge of the village, in the big clearing fortified by trees and a waterfall where Jake now taught you all how to use human weapons. You didn't really need the practice, not anymore, having mastered every weapon he thought fit to throw at you years ago, but still, you went, because you may not need it, but one person you wanted to see did.

You smiled as you saw him, struggling with a Y70 Bullpup Rifle, a deep frown on his face and a small pout on his lips, and your heart swelled at the sight. O'ì'en Te Äfawoo Ìrauyon'itan was many things, all good and pure, all sweet and kind, a good balance for you, all fire and ice, no sense of balance or middling emotions. He was a mighty warrior, and a needed shelter from the new storms in your life. You've known him your whole life, but have started spending more time with him recently, as you started subbing for Jake as a mentor and a teacher, in days he was too preoccupied or otherwise engaged with one of his other many Olo'eyktan duties. He found the human weapons particularly strange and difficult to understand, so you weren't surprised now, finding him like this, struggling as he was, still trying to understand how to put it back together, how to make it work again.

You snuck behind him, careful not to make a noise, and he startled as your hands reached around and found his chest, that you caressed, tracing his defined pecs and abs, laughing as the weapon almost dropped from his hands.

"Tanhì, you scared me. What are you doing? People are watching."

"So? Let them watch." your eyes found Jake, who was eyeing your interaction curiously, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk on his face. You brought your hand to your forehead and greeted him with a smile, and he waved at you, another human gesture he found it hard to part ways with. He made his way towards the pair of you, enveloping you in a big hug, and you almost suffocated in between his swollen, muscular pecs.

"Woah, Jake, you're gonna kill me right before an important mission." he laughs again, and you feel the deep rumble in his chest, reverberating in the forest surrounding you.

"I see you, ma Olo'eyktan."

"I see you, O'ì'en. Is the gun giving you trouble? I'm sure my little spark here can help you out. Seems you two are... close enough that she might consider it." you rolled your eyes and removed yourself from his grasp, and his knuckles made contact with the top of your head, putting pressure and twisting until it hurt, in yet another human habit you hated, that he called a noogie. He said it was affectionate, but you weren't so sure.

"Good luck." and with a wink, he was gone, focusing on the other Na'vi who needed his help and guidance.

You got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

"Right. So this part is the underslung grenade luncher and it goes -"

It was late at night when you made your way back to your tent, smiling to yourself at the tranquility and joy of your evening, so far removed from the morning that was waiting for you and all you stood to lose when it came. Worry enveloped you like a shroud as you approached, and haunting thoughts tugged at your mind, but they didn't have time to fester, not as soft moans and breathy names percolated in your ears instead and took their place, names and voices you recognised. You circled your tent to the tree that rested right behind it, and you found exactly what you thought you would, exactly what you didn't want to ever see in your life. Neteyam's back shielding his little annoying girlfriend's naked body propped against the tree, with her legs around his hips, as he rutted into her.

You hated Neteyam in that moment. You knew he was doing it on purpose, you knew there was no other reason why he would choose this spot to do this, other than the knowledge that you would be coming to bed soon and the satisfaction he knew he would get from your reaction. But you wouldn't give it to him. The satisfaction, that is. He was good, at the little mind games, at knowing what buttons to push to drive you to the point of considering whether your love for the Sullys was greater than the desire to remove his head from his shoulders, but in time, you learnt all his little tricks, and in time, you learnt how to beat him at his own game.

You cleared your throat, your voice sweet and docile as honeycomb as you spoke.

"Neteyam, I just came from your family's tent. Mo'at was looking for you, she said you've been missing you treatments for your genital warts." You let out an affected noise, trying your hardest to sound sympathetic and concerned. "I'm sure it's fine, though. I'm sure the elders are wrong when they talk about how it makes fungus grow out of your vagina if you're infected by it." You almost broke your composure when the girl let out a pained yelp, but otherwise pushed through.

"Oh, well! Have a good evening!" And with that, you took your leave, grinning from ear to ear as all you heard when you entered your tent was screaming and Neteyam trying to hush her and defuse a newly-chaotic situation.

The mission and the aftermath went as well as could be expected, and you were proud of your contribution that never went unnoticed in the clan, or among the Sullys, much to Neteyam's dismay. He was still enraged about your little stunt, and you were happy that despite his continuous stink eye, you killed 5 humans, and secured the perimeter at all times, keeping the war party safe throughout the duration of the mission. The praise from everyone in the village meant the world to you, it meant everything to you, and by the afternoon, you felt on top of the world. The feeling didn't last, though, replaced with more anxiety than you knew what to do with, as Mo'at asked for your immediate presence by her side, as a matter of urgency.

You were nervous as you made your way to the Tsa’hik’s tent, unsure of why you would have been summoned there in the first place. You were going to see Mo’at for dinner shortly anyhow, so whatever it was she had to tell you was definitely too important to wait, and well, let’s just say you had a bad feeling. The bad feeling worsened when you finally pushed past the flap of the marui and found Neteyam sitting on the ground, the same kind of muted confusion visible on his face, that quickly changed into his signature “you” look as soon as he noticed who it was that walked in. You brought your fingers to your forehead and bowed your head to your Tsa’hik. 

“I see you, Mo’at.” 

She returned the gesture with a smile, and you sat down in front of her. 

“Is something wrong, ma Tsa’hik? Why are Neteyam and I here?” 

Mo’at circled the pit of fire that resided in the middle of her tent and placed a hand on one of your and Neteyam’s shoulder, a big smile on her face.

“It’s great news, ma parultsyìp. My latest communion with Eywa brought forth visions and guidance from the our Great Mother. Visions of you, my children.” Her smiled dropped a little and was replaced by a more serious expression, which accompanied her tone of voice.

“I know you two haven’t seen eye to eye for a while now. I know a lot of it is our fault, pushing you both to be the best versions of yourselves and pushing you apart as a result, but you used to be best friends, you used to hold each other close in your hearts, and Eywa thinks that can happen again… that it should happen again.” 

Mo’at’s words scared you. She was being vague and the direction of the conversation made you uncomfortable, sending shivers down your spine. You looked at Neteyam, who was watching you already and you stifled a grimace at the way he turned instantly, like the thought of meeting your gaze was too unbearable to even be considered. 

“Grandmother, what are you saying?” 

“Eywa has chosen the new Tsa’hik, grandson. You two are to be a mated pair, and Neteyam, you will be one of the finest ruling pairs the Omaticaya has ever seen.” 

Your mouth fell agape in shock and your brows furrowed as your mind was assimilating the influx of information, the way that your life instantly changed in so little time, in as little time as it took Mo’at to say the words out loud. Mated pair? Tsa’hik? You and Neteyam? Too many contradictions, too many oxymorons when said altogether for it to make sense to you. You looked over at Neteyam, hoping that for at least a second he’d let you in, he’d look at you, so you could work through this together, so you can navigate it together… so you can handle it together. But all you saw was anger and his composure coming apart at the seams, his tail shaking furiously and the tip of his ears a deep purple. 

“Absolutely not. This has to be some sort of mistake, grandmother.” 

Your own ears twitched and fell backwards at the unfairness of it all, at his booming tone and furious demeanour, at the way it was inconceivable to him that you'd have to spend your life together. It stung, the needles of hurt piercing your skin like a tattoo, marking you, how Neteyam never said no to his family, to his Tsa’hik, but decided to break that rule for himself just to reject you. It’s not like you wanted him, either, definitely not, but there was something about his antipathy towards you, unshaken and unwavering, even after all these years, that will always get under your skin, in the way that only he ever managed to. If there’s one thing you were good at, though, is matching him blow by blow. 

“Yes, Mo’at. He has his standards set much too low to allow me to be his mate, and I have mine set way too high for him to be able to do anything but limbo under them.” yet another word you learnt from Jake, that seemed appropriate now, too appropriate to go to waste.

“That’s enough!” Mo’at was no longer in a joking mood as she looked at both of you, a stern disposition about her that you knew better than to cross. “Eywa’s decision is final, and she’s never wrong. I was just as shocked as you are, and I don’t know why she chose you, but she did. We will talk shortly about the ceremony. You can leave now.” 

You sighed, your head falling in between your hands as you heard Neteyam scoffing and getting up, and the air that hit your back as he opened the flap of the tent and rushed out of it without another word. 

“Mo’at… please. This has to be a mistake. I’m not fit to be Tsa’hik, you know this. I am a warrior, I have been a warrior my whole life. There’s much better suited people for the job, much better girls, I -“ 

Mo’at silenced you with an affectionate pat on your head. “I think you’d be better fitted than you think. Now go, I’m sure there’s better things you could be doing than sitting here, fretting over a done deal.”

The water in the lake of your secret meadow, your favourite place in the whole world, was colder than you were used to, a welcome respite in a sea of flames that felt like it was engulfing every corner of your mind and body, as you were processing the calamitous conversation you shared with the woman. What was she thinking? What was Eywa thinking? You and Neteyam? The man hated you. And you hated him. What kind of mateship could this ever be, other than one filled with pain and suffering. What kind of leadership could this be, other than one that was disjointed and chaotic. This was a mistake. You would tell Mo’at as much the next time you saw her.

You could at least try to reason with Jake and Neytiri first. They always listened to you, they always took your opinions into consideration. You would tell them that Neteyam has a girlfriend and an intended mate, that you were too young for such eternal commitments, that there was no productive resolution to this, as long as this was still to go ahead. You would do this and it would work. It had to work, because what was the alternative?

A little calmer and with a plan in mind, you swam your laps, enjoying the cold crisp feel of the water against your burning skin. You did this for hours, until you eventually tired, now peacefully laying on the soft grass, looking up at the stars. You have always been able to escape this sometimes harsh reality in the safety of your mind. But harsh reality always had a distasteful way of creeping back in, and it did so now in the form of the one person you never wanted to see, the one person whose presence had the power to burn you and turn you cold all at the same time. 

“Leave, Neteyam.”

“No. We need to talk.” 

“Oh, what could we possibly have to talk about, Neteyam?” You said sarcastically. Of course he’d want to talk now, finally coming with his tail between his legs. You might put him out of his misery if he was nice about it, if for the first time in years he found it in his tiny, little heart to apologise and talk to you like an actual person, if he came to you with some semblance of humbleness and communicated fairly and honestly. Maybe you could finally come to a mutual understanding. This would benefit both of you, so there had to be a way to finally learn to be civil to one another and put your difference aside. 

“Stop being coy, it doesn’t suit you.” You rolled your eyes. This wasn’t off to a great start. 

“Stop being a dick if you want to talk to me.” 

“You have to go talk to my parents and tell them you don’t want this. Tell them you’re in love with that loser boyfriend of yours, tell them you’ve mated with him already. Tell them you don’t want to ever be tied down, that you don’t think the title of Tsa’hik would suit you. I don’t care what you say, just do it. You and I both know this can’t happen. It won’t matter what I say to my parents.” He looked down to his feet and mumbled mostly to himself. “It never does.” He collected himself quickly, before he continued.

“But they care about your opinion. I have to be Olo’eyktan, you don’t have to be Tsa’hik. So go talk to them.”

You rose to your feet and faced him. Your blood quickly started boiling in your veins at his words and tone, at the way he barely looked at you or acknowledged you, at the way he continued to treat you like a plague or disease to be sneered at, to be demeaned, to be avoided. You wanted to scream at him, to take him by his shoulders and shake some sense into him, and hope that this way the Neteyam you used to know, whose memory you still cherished despite all the horrible, unhappy, strenuous years that followed, would just return to you. But being vulnerable around him is something you’ve learnt the hard way you needed to avoid at all costs, so in the matter with which you’ve been accustomed, in a half-sneer, half-growl, you spoke.

“I have to give it to you, Neteyam, you definitely have some nerve. Coming here, demanding that I take one in the chin, yet again, might I add, and be the one to go and talk us out of this predicament, and not even being civil about it, when it’s you asking me the favour. You’ve always enjoyed letting me do all the dirty work, while you maintain the golden child title you clearly value so much. The mighty warrior. The perfect soldier. We both know, deep down, you’re just a fucking coward.”

You watched as his expression darkened, an edge to his face and beautiful features you’ve very rarely, if ever, seen before. But you were angry, so angry, so done protecting his feelings, so over trying to maintain a semblance of decorum for the sake of the love you shared in the past and the love you still share with the rest of his family, for the peace that you once hoped to protect. No one could make you angry like he could. No one got under your skin as well as he did, nuzzling there and making a home of the warmth of your bones, there to stay, until you were willing to forcefully remove him, until you were willing to finally break free from his unyielding grasp his presence had on your mind. It was finally time, it seemed. 

“You sit there and act like this is an inconvenience to you. I’m going to be stuck being Tsa’hik forever. I’m one of the best warriors in this clan. I stood by Jake and Neytiri my whole life, just like you. Why the hell should you get to lead the people in battle, while I have to stay behind, and forsake everything I have ever worked for, all the sacrifices I made and all the years I gave to stand behind and heal your wounds? I should be Olo’eyktan between the two of us, and I think you know that, Neteyam. I think it eats at you at night, the thought. I think that’s the reason you have treated me like dirt since the second you realised this very fact. I think you’re scared your own parents prefer me. You’re scared that comes push to shove, that little bimbo girlfriend of yours might only be with you for the prestige that comes with fucking the future Olo’eyktan, and that if by any chance she finds this out, she’d dump you faster than a banana fruit on a sunny day.” 

You knew it was a step too far, and definitely felt it as soon as Neteyam’s fingers wrapped around your throat and squeezed and your breath hitched in your throat with nowhere to go. 

“You’re such a little bitch. Take it back.” There was no light in his tone, no levity, just pure rage, burning wildly in his eyes and manifested in his bared teeth, threatening fangs fully on display, the low growl blooming in his throat felt deep within you, and for the first time in your life, you were scared of the man sitting in front of you. You felt yourself becoming dizzy and disoriented as the lack of oxygen was taking over your mind, but you refused to give in to his desires, not when he was hurting you, not when he crossed a line, not when you could be hurting him. You smirked instead, and tried to focus enough to get the words out. 

“You’re… a coward. You’re weak, Neteyam. Threatened by a little girl, so you pushed me away and continue to treat me like dirt. I have never thought I am better than you, Neteyam, until right now, that is. I realised something today. I don’t think I’m better than you. You think I’m better than you.”

With all your might and the last of your power, you kneed him, as hard as you could, straight in the groin, and exhaled in relief when his hand dropped from you throat and went to his loincloth, growling in pain. You groaned as you felt the marks he left on you, that will definitely bruise, and struggled to find your balance, as you walked slowly away from him. 

“I’m just as unhappy about this as you are. But you crossed a line, Neteyam. The next time you lay a hand on me, I will make you pay, and I promise you that little girlfriend of yours will have to make do without offsprings.” 

You left the spot that meant so much to you, that was now tainted forever, rubbing his finger imprints off your now sensitive, raw neck, heart full of deep anguish and mind filled with all the ways you were going to make him pay, and that started with one simple step: forsaking the plan to get out of this little arrangement. 

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif

[riddled-with-fear]

Matter Of Time

Well, here it is. My first fic. Or really, my first drabble. Originally I had planned for a SFW fic but well, one thing led to another and lo and behold. Another smutty Eddie fic to add to Tumblr.

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x Fem!reader

Summary: Edward watches reader from the shadows of a roof top, convincing himself what he's doing is protecting you.

Word count: 1,238

CW: semi-public male masturbation, themes of stalking, voyeurism, self-loathing, Edward being a fucking creepy weirdo, and dubious consent.

This has been uploaded to my AO3 as well!

Edward had been patiently waiting for you to come home. 

Unbeknownst to you, of course.

He had overheard you at KTMJ revealing to another mutual coworker that you had errands to run after work. Not that he was eavesdropping of course! But that meant you weren’t getting home until later and not your usual time of six-thirty.

Edward usually spent whatever free time he had during and after work focusing on his true work as Gotham’s Savior. As the Riddler. But now, it consisted of observing you from the shadows. Making notes about you. Memorizing every detail he could about you. Even going so far as to fantasize about you. He didn’t quite understand his infatuation with you. Perhaps it was because you were a new face in Gotham. Someone that has yet to be tainted and corrupted by this cursed city.  Or perhaps it was because for the first time in his entire miserable fucking life that someone had shown him basic human kindness. Not out of pity, but with seemingly genuine intentions. 

Every morning at KTMJ you would smile at him. Every morning you made it a point to greet him. And with that sweet, soft, and pure voice you would talk to him throughout your shared work day;

“Good morning Edward!” 

“How are you today, Edward?”

“Hey Edward, I’m getting coffee, can I get you anything?”

“You know, I’ve been meaning to try this diner close by, you should come with me!”

“Hey Edward, mind looking over these accounts with me? These numbers don’t add up. You’re really smart, maybe you can find my mistakes?”

Oh how easy it was for him to become enamored with you. Obsessed with you. Of course, Edward tried many times to forget you. To not allow himself to be distracted by you or by the desire you stirred up within him. He needed all of his focus on cleansing Gotham of corruption. Maybe when he was done he could cleanse you too. But yet, here he was, watching you through your window from the roof of the building opposite of yours like some… stalker.

He shook the word from his mind. It made him sick. It made him seem depraved.

No. Not stalker. He was better than that. Your protector. That’s what he was. He was simply protecting you. After all, was he not Gotham’s protector? Why couldn’t he be yours too? And what better way to protect you than by watching over you?

But no matter how he phrased it, or how hard he tried to convince himself what he was doing wasn’t wrong there would always be that little tiny voice in the back of his mind reminding him that it was wrong. That he would never be worthy or ever be enough to deserve any sort of semblance of human connection and that’s why he had to resort to doing… Well... whatever this was.

A light illuminated through your window, pulling Edward from his thoughts. He quickly fumbled in his bag for his binoculars. 

With your apartment being on the fifth floor, you didn’t think to close your blinds or draw your curtains. After all, you probably thought no one would be able to see you. That you were safe from any prying, perverse eyes.

Oh, my foolish girl. Edward thought.

He watched through his binoculars as you looked through your drawers pulling out a pair of gray shorts and a ratty old tee shirt. You tossed the articles of clothing onto your bed and as if you somehow knew Edward could see, began to slowly take off your top. 

Edward took in a deep breath, licking his lips. He watched intently as you pulled the blouse over your head, revealing your midriff and your simple black bra you wore. You moved onto your skirt, slowly unzipping it and shimmied it down your hips where it fell to the floor gathering at your feet. He noticed you wore a matching black thong. 

You stepped out of your skirt, bending over to remove your socks, giving Edward a clear view of your ass. He gripped his binoculars tightly, his breathing became heavier under his mask. He felt his cock stiffen in his pants. You had to have known what you were doing, right?

He didn't linger too much on the thought. You had unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the growing pile of clothes. You turned around, your breasts now exposed to him. Edward decided he could no longer hold back.

"Fuck it."

Quickly unzipping his pants, he took his erect cock in his gloved hand and gave it a few unceremonious strokes. He hissed through his teeth at the rough and cold leather around his shaft.

He continued watching you, noticing that you weren't in a rush to cover yourself. He watched the way your tits bounced with each step you took, causing his cock to weep. He took his gloved fingers and spread his pre-cum along his length.

You sat on your bed, and still made no move to dress yourself. Edward began to think you were putting on a show just for him. As if you somehow knew he would be on this rooftop, watching you, no, admiring you, from afar. Always from a distance. Never destined to be up close.

He gave himself a few languid strokes, watching as you leaned over to your nightstand and pulled out a vibrator.

Edward’s breathing hitched. His hand stopped for a brief moment.

you're welcome here Edward, remember? She even told you. he reminded himself. she extends invites to her place all the time.

Like a fool, I decline every time. No, I'm not welcome here. As if I'm welcomed anywhere. I am meant to be alone. I'm meant to be unnoticed. Unwanted.

He shut his eyes, squeezing back tears. When he opened them again, he saw you laying back on your bed, your eyes closed, your face twisting in pleasure. The vibrator between your legs. Oh what he would give to be the source of that pleasure for you.

He resumed his strokes, picking up the pace. Faster and harder he rutted into his own hand, imagining what it'd be like thrusting inside of you instead.

He watched as your breathing picked up, your own movements getting faster, an indicator you were close to your release.

He squeezed his cock harder and stroked faster.

You came with a shudder, and set your vibrator aside, breathing heavy as you slowly recovered from your orgasm.

Edward came soon after with a guttural groan, spilling his spend onto the concrete roof top. 

For the first time in a long time, Edward felt... odd. It was akin to the same feeling he got when he hid under his covers as a child in the orphanage with a makeshift flashlight and the few books he had. He was expecting to be caught at any moment. To be scolded. To be shamed. He realized what he felt was... guilt.

But for what? What did he possibly have to be guilty of?

You know exactly what. There was the little voice again. 

Edward sighed and stuffed his softening cock back into his pants, and quickly left.

You didn’t know it yet, but his heart was already yours. You unknowingly had him wrapped around your pretty little finger. And soon enough, you'd be his, too. It was just a matter of time. 

[xhollowfaerie]

silverv drabbles #5

a/n: oof, this might be my favorite one so far. after witnessing a particularly bad memory, Johnny offers to teach V how to play guitar. also yes my V is kinda seeing Judy too but idk I also ship her so hard with Johnny so interpret that however you will, I love her with either or both <3 also pre-game Samurai fan corpo V is my new roman empire

warnings: traumatic childhood, depiction of physical abuse, abusive "parenting", hopefully Johnny isn't too ooc

- Black Dog. V’s eyes watered at the sight of the electric guitar in her new apartment, bringing the back of her hand up to her mouth as she bit back a grin.

“Gettin’ all emotional on me? Sweet, but you know we’d never work” Johnny lit up a cigarette, resting against the windowsill.

“Shut up, Johnny” she laughed through her wavering emotions, kneeling down to admire the instrument. Her long nails ran over the glossy finish, hesitantly plucking a string to relish the sound. The rockerboy watched her in amusement. She looked just like a little kid getting their favorite toy on Christmas Eve.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never touched a guitar before” he said in between drags, eyes glued to her.

“No” V breathed, lowering her gaze. “Wasn’t somethin’ I was allowed to touch.”

Victoria Lovett’s slaps always stung for days after. Valerie gasped in horror as her mother snapped her vinyl in half before angrily bursting into tears.

“The fuck did you do that for?!” she roared, her rebellion earning her another painful slap across the face before feeling her hair being viciously tugged upwards. 

“Who do you think you’re speaking to, Valerie? Address me like that one more time and see what happens. This time, we’ll make sure you don’t get any medical attention.”

Valerie sobbed, attempting to free her mother’s hold of her hair to no avail. She helplessly stood face to face with the vitriol across her mother’s still-youthful features, the various implants and surgeries to keep her looking in her late twenties at most.

“Don’t try to play the victim with me. I’ve told you how many times? Stop wasting time on this drivel, it’s simply not my fault you won’t listen to your own mother. You need to focus on the Academy and the Academy only-” “I have top grades in every class! Every professor has praised me to you! What more do you want?! I’m not even allowed to listen to the music I like?! I’ve done everything, everything to appease you, it’s never enough! I’m never enough! ”

Victoria glared towards the broken Samurai record on the floor before returning her attention to her daughter. “This noise? You call this anarchistic low-class propaganda filth music? You are the heir to a royal bloodline, Valerie Lovett! There is no higher insult for us or for the future of our family for you to betray us - to disrespect The Company like this.”

Valerie’s dark makeup ran down her face in trails of black, shaking in fear in her mother’s grip. She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered before she was abruptly dropped, falling to her knees. She tried to back away, but her mother grabbed onto her face so ferociously, she thought her fingers would crush her jaw to dust. Fear instructed her to bite down hard into her tongue, still her trembling and silence her cries. It always riled them up even worse when she couldn’t stop crying.

“Perhaps we’ve been too lenient with you - I should’ve listened to your father and scrapped you. He was right, your genetics were flawed. I was soft because I’d always wanted a daughter.”

Her unloving hands moved down to Valerie’s throat; she lowered herself onto the floor under the weight, eyes wide in horror, feeling the oxygen cut off from her lungs with a wheeze.

“M-Mom, it- hurts-”“You will address me as Mother, Valerie, and you will watch your tongue with me from this day on, unless you truly want me to go ahead and remove it. Better yet, your father suggested a faceplate; you know your facial features are… less than desirable.”

Valerie couldn’t help the tears pouring down the sides of her face, lips trembling. This was it, she thought. This time, Victoria would really go through with it and kill her, like she always said she would. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure up the smallest spark of courage inside her, to accept her death with dignity. She’d been contemplating choosing her own way out over whatever nightmare of a future her parents had planned for her for a while now, anyway. Lyrics played in her head, offering her the tiniest hope of solace as she tried - to no avail - to block her mother's words out.

“I better not see this slut makeup or clothing on you again. I’ve told you time and time again; a woman must be elegant. You’ve tarnished our reputation enough. I do not need the whole corporate world seeing my daughter parade around like a harlot.”

“Black dog in my head, guiding me into the end…” Valerie found herself humming, sitting down on the couch as she gingerly cradled the guitar in her arms. Johnny blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing they were back in the present, rubbing his temples.

“Fuck, kid. I’m- I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

V gave him a sympathetic half-smile. “...thanks. Sorry you had to see that.” She didn’t correct him on her age this time. She was barely a few years younger than him when he died, but she’d almost gotten attached to the stupid nickname.

He felt the clutches of wrath crawling up throughout his whole body. That familiar feeling. Anger, helplessness. Or maybe that was V. Maybe both.

“I know nothin I say’ll make it any better. But I’d kill ‘em for you, in a heartbeat,” Johnny tried to steady his voice from wavering with anger, taking a few steps towards the couch before lowering down onto the floor. She nodded, wiping the dampness off her face with her sleeve. “I know.”

They sat in silence for a moment; her fingers explored the ins and outs of the guitar, getting used to its weight atop her frame, humming still.

“That your favourite one? Black Dog.”

V let out a small sigh. She wrapped her arms around it, snuggling it to her chest like a teddy bear, but carefully enough to not damage it in any way, bringing her knees up.

“One of.” Johnny shook his head. “Never told me you were into Samurai.” “I did, though. Remember? Oh my gosh!!! I can’t believe it! It’s The REAL Johnny Silverhand?! I’m gonna pass out! Can I get a backstage pass? Please, I’m your biggest fan! I’ll let you see my backstage…!  Please, Daddy, I promise I’m 18! Can I at least get your autograph on my tits? Swear I’ll never wash it off!”

He let out a loud groan and quickly pushed himself up to the couch, placing one arm on either side of her to tower above.

“Christ, shut up” he barked, drinking in her joyous giggle as she playfully tried to push him away. Their eyes caught onto each other and they both stilled for a moment, brown staring into blue with a feverish intensity that made her heart pause its rhythm. Fine, maybe she'd had the most miniscule crush on him when she was a teenager, a lifetime ago.

Her hands, forgotten atop his chest, idly ran over the silver chain of his dog tags. He successfully suppressed displaying the tingle that rushed down his spine.

“I could teach ya. If you want” he spoke in a low voice, motioning towards the guitar in her arms. She widened her eyes with excitement, heart hammering rapidly inside her ribcage.

“No kiddin’?” “No kiddin’. Might even get a jump start, assumin’ your fingers inherited my muscle memory.”

The tone in his voice was very suggestive - her face flushed at his statement, reaching one of her hands up to clasp his face and shove him off her. “Ew! Do you always have to be a fuckin’ weirdo? I’m tellin’ the media that Johnny Silverhand was a degenerate sicko!” He chuckled as he moved away, reaching to wrap his fingers around her wrist and pull it off from his face with a sly grin. “Think you’re about a half a century late on that one, choomba.”

She rolled her eyes, feeling a sense of loss as his touch departed from her hand, grazing the guitar with a loving gaze perhaps meant for something, someone else.

“I’d love that” she whispered in reply to his suggestion, prompting Johnny to walk around the corner and grab his own guitar. How did that even work? Ah, whatever, she didn’t fucking care anymore.

“First off; you gotta shorten those vixen claws. I’m sure Judy will live just fine without them shreddin’ her back.”

She flung a throw pillow off the couch at him with a gasp. “Ugh! Don’t tell me you watched?!” “Nah, got better things to do, but you’re definitely a scratcher. Maybe Judy’s onto somethin’” he smirked, adding “...woman after my own heart” in a hushed voice before the unexpected pillow hit him right in the face. “You little!-” 

V let out a squeal as he threw the pillow back at her, dodging in time for it to only hit her side. “Slow reflexes, old m-ahh!” 

He pulled her to his chest with one swift motion, her guitar separating them from being flushed up too closely against each other. She gave him the faintest glare, trying to withhold the blush from returning to her cheeks. “What?”

Johnny’s eyes bore into hers. V shivered, gulping. Wow. The rockerboy smoulder really worked, huh.

As if he’d heard her thoughts (shit, he definitely did), he burst into a chuckle, shaking his head before turning them around, standing behind her and tilting his head by the side of hers. He tentatively hovered his hands above her arms, asking for permission. She gave him a small nod, freezing when his fingers made contact with her skin; oh, as if it wasn’t embarrassing enough, she was sure he could feel her heart rate climbing higher.

“Relax” his gravelly voice brushed against her ear, making her eyes widen - yeah, not helping! - the distance between them shrinking as he wrapped his arms around hers, placing his hands atop V’s. “You’re holdin’ it wrong. Here.”

Without any smartass reply, V followed his lead, letting him adjust her hold of the guitar and position her fingers atop the strings. “You ever play anythin’ ‘fore?” She was thankful for his idle chitchat, helping her relax into his instructions. “Yeah, piano.” “Hm. Suits you. Know the basics, then?” “Wouldn’t mind a refresher…” Truthfully, having him so close still unnerved her, and music theory was the last thing on her mind. “Alright. You’re gonna need a pick.”

-

The Kabuki apartment was filled with laughter and the sweet strumming of guitar strings as they passed the night away in their little corner of Night City. He was right - she did get the gist surprisingly quickly, learning the riff for Black Dog before it got high time to hit the hay. He watched her tired figure on the couch, sweetly curled around the guitar. 

He softly ruffled her hair with a chuckle. “Startin’ to look like you might just be cut out to be my prodigy. I'll admit - I'm impressed!”

“Mmm… Johnny?”

“The man, the myth, the legend. At your service.”

“Promise me somethin'?”

“Man, why do chicks always say this to me? Is it my devilishly good looks? Wasn't exactly tryin’ to inspire husband material…”

“Promise… you'll stay?”

His smile faltered, eyes idly following the curve of her thighs, all the way to the peaceful expression on her face. 

‘Course I'll stay.

“Don't got much of a choice.”

She let out a small noise, making herself comfortable as her speech slurred, breathing softly.

“‘m scared… t’… sleep alone. Been so good… know you're there. Means… they can't… hurt me.”

“No. They can't. We'll flatline ‘em before they even think it.”

She scooted closer to him on the couch, allowing her head to rest on the side of his leg. He tensed for a moment before his muscles eased into her touch, ghosting the tips of his fingers over her arm with uncharacteristic tenderness before letting out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips tugging upward as he looked down at her.

“‘night night, V.”

I’ll stay until I fix this. ‘Til you can be free of me.

[popcornforone]

Home Sick

Day Seven of the Seasons of Life Drabble Challenge

A Javi Gutierrez Fan Fic

MASTERLIST

When you get Marshmallows as a prompt I had to go for my sunshine. He is hard to write for winter so I’ve gone a little nostalgic for it.

Synopsis:- Your feeling homesick but Javi has an idea as to what will cheer you up.

Word count:- 420

Warnings:- suggestion of stuff that might go on after the scene, sucking, swearing.

Thanks @fanfictionoverload @lady-bess @berryispunk can’t believe the winter prompts are now over.

“I know what I need to make you” Javi said. You love him & you love living in Majorca with him & your new life, but you are feeling a little home sick missing your life back in the uk. Yes it’s warmer & not raining at the end of winter, but part of you wishes for cozy nights under blankets watching the rain fall outside. “I need to make you a fondue”

“A fondue?” You question.”I’ve not had one in donkeys”

“All the more reason to then, nostalgia” he says & then bounces off into the kitchen. He’d sent his staff home for the day. This is going to be interesting.

“Fuck” About 15mins later you hear swearing coming from kitchen so go & check he’s not set it all on fire. On the counter top as a range of fresh fruits, bananas, strawberry’s, cherry’s, mangos & apples already for you to dip, into the large bowls of melted milk & white chocolate. Javi is trying to hide the chocolate fountain he tried to get working but broke by accident. Your giggle gives your presence away. He turns around startled & blushing.

“Sorry was trying to do the best for my girl”

“This looks amazing Javi” You say sounding upbeat but there’s still a small amount of disappointment.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks softly.

“Have you got any marshmallows Javi?” you eyes plead, almost as much as his own puppy dog eyes. With that Javi frantically searches the kitchen but eventually finds them. Your face lights up the second you taste the marshmallow in the milk chocolate.

“Heaven” you moan. Javi smiles, his cock twitching in his trousers. Loving that your noise to this is similar to when he starts to pleasure you.

“I like that noise” he states before eating his own, before then feeding you. You delicately suck his fingers clean. “Oooh have I put you in a different mood now?” Javi asks as you let go of his pinky finger with a loud pop.

“Javi, my love, you always have me in that mood” you smirk. You then dip the marshmallow into a mix of white & milk chocolate & then bite one end. Your eyes tel Javi everything he needs to know. He bites the marshmallow as well & soon the sugary & chocolate goodness is all gone, your sticky fingers caress his face as you kiss him, falling for him even more.

“You really are my sunshine on a gloomy day Javi”

[anzulvr]

hii could i please request a little hurt/comfort drabble where reader feels sad during christmas season but forces herself to at least pretend to be happy because karma’s birthday is on christmas day :( but karma notices how her smile doesn’t meet her eyes and stuff and asks reader about it!

Summary: You’re sad on Christmas, Karma x reader (except it’s his birthday.) hurt/comfort GN!reader HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM

(this is so cute I LOVE THIS REQUEST thank u! Had this in my drafts for a while but waited for Christmas to post)

It had been two years since everything ended. Two years since Korosensei died and all of End class were labeled as victims with some weird-Stockholm attachment to the monster who blew up the moon.

It was strange, seeing everyone care about you when you didn’t need it and remembering how low they thought of you when you were only the reject class of kunugigaoka.

A lot happened in two years, not a long time but considering how quickly everything was moving you hadn’t had time to catch up. Like any special day Christmas wasn’t a good time anymore- something your classmates agreed on. With the impact Korosensei had on your lives it was impossible to celebrate anything without wondering what would have been if you managed to save him. That was only wishful thinking, you couldn’t change the past.

Regardless, today you tried to keep a smile on your face. It was the most important time of the year, Karmas birthday- and Christmas too.

You stared at your poor attempt to decorate the cake you baked with Karma, the frosting written birthday note was almost illegible.

“What’s with the look, you’re writing isn’t that bad.”

You looked up after hearing Karmas voice as if you were pulled out of a trance.

“What look? I know it’s not that bad I was admiring our hard work.”

“More like my hard work, you kept dropping everything! Seriously though, what’s wrong? The whole day I’ve been catching you teary eyed.”

You turned your back to the counter to face him as you set the frosting bag down “I’m fine, today’s your day I’m not going to bother you with my problems. You should enjoy everything to its fullest.”

“I’m not going to enjoy anything if you’re not happy, ‘m not budging tell me why you’re upset.”

Karma was stubborn, you knew him well enough to realized this wasn’t negotiable.

“I don’t know… I was just thinking about how Korosensei can’t spend Christmas with us, and he can’t be here for your birthday. Ever since we killed him, Ive felt so helpless? Like we never did enough.”

He nodded slowly breaking eye contact for a second, “my parents haven’t answered my call today, they’re in Italy right now, all I got was a text saying they were busy and that they’d talk later. I know they haven’t forgotten, it’s kind of impossible when it’s Christmas but still- I hoped they would have time for me today, I know they have more important things to do but It made me think about how Korosensei would’ve been here.”

you nodded in response, “They could still call the days not over… and if they don’t they’ll try to make it up to you…” You could bet they wouldn’t call until the next day but you wanted to reassure him, there wasn’t a lot you could say in this situation that would make him feel better.

“It’s fine, you’re here- and you’re the best company, I had fun today. I just meant Korosensei has done a lot for us he’s proud we pulled that off, he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.”

“I know you’re right, still I wish I could’ve done more, we should’ve tried harder to save him.”

“We did what we had to. I miss him too, there’s a lot of things I could never repay Korosensei for—”

“Like getting you through senioritis? Or always bringing money in his wallet even though he knew you’d steal it?”

“I meant setting us up together, but sure those were good too.” Karma smiles breaking tenseness of the conversation for moment, “at the time I thought he was being a hassle but without him im not sure id have you right now.”

Suddenly you felt shy laughing it off and covering your face for a moment while you composed yourself, “Yeah he did push for us a lot but I was obsessed with you far before we even ended up in 3-E so you would’ve had me regardless.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.”

“No way in hell, I don’t trust you to not make fun of me. Anyways I didn’t mean to bring up something depressing, we should be smearing cake all over your face right now.”

“Try all you want but it isn’t possible to mess up my face.”

“Wanna bet?” You shake the smile off your face.

“See that’s more I like it, we can enjoy our ugly cake now. And more importantly you can open your gift.”

“What do you mean my gift? It’s your birthday you’re not supposed to buy me stuff!”

“It’s also Christmas … I couldn’t help myself I really wanted to get you something.”

“But now I’m worried my gift won’t live up to yours!”

“[Name] you could give me rocks for all I care and I’d keep them in a safe with multiple locks.”

You gently shoved his shoulder suppressing your laughter, you leaned in to kiss him.

It was impossible to not feel better with him around. This morning you had woken up wishing time could stop for a moment and you ended the day hoping for the same thing but for a completely different reason.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello! I saw you're taking requests. Could you please write swayman x Reader with an angsty drabble using prompt

14."It's not what you think it is."?

Thank you!!!

My first Sway request! Thanks Nonny!

Enjoy🤍

He was definitely cheating.

You swiped at a tear and leaned back on your bed.

At first you gaslit yourself into thinking it was your paranoia talking. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d jumped to assumptions and ruined a good thing so you tried to control it. You talked yourself down every time you got suspicious and insisted to your brain you were looking at things the wrong way.

In the past, a complete meltdown and a fight would have been the first thing to happen. But those guys had been different. You wanted to be careful with Jeremy so you kept it to yourself, and for a while it had worked. But your resolve was crumbling and cracking a little bit each day.

The signs were all there.

In the last few months he’d taken a number of phone calls that he left the room for. At first you thought maybe it was just a private conversation. But by now the private conversations had started to happen sometimes twice a day.

Random changing and cancelling of plans. Once or twice wasn’t enough to raise any alarms. Things happened right?

But the final straw was when you were sitting in your favorite dress waiting for him only for him to call and try and move your date to later on, and then deciding to cancel it all together.

And then there was the email you saw. Purely an accident. You might have been paranoid but you weren’t intrusive enough to search through his phone. But when it dinged while he was showering you leaned to look at the screen and saw an email from someone named Sarah you wanted to rip the curtain open and confront him right there.

But what really sent you over the edge was the phone call. This time you’d been snooping but you wish you hadn’t because you investigated so hard you hurt your own feelings. You’d let yourself into his apartment unannounced which had never been a problem, and you had a key for that exact thing and he mustn’t have heard you. You however could hear him on the phone in his room so you quietly made you way and caught the end of a phone call you were probably not supposed to hear.

“She’s gonna be here soon so I can’t talk long.”

You felt your heart slide into your stomach as whoever it was on the other line answered and he responded “No she has no idea, and I wanna keep it that way for now at least. She’ll find out eventually and then we’ll go from there.”

A tear ran down your cheek as he continued “No I can’t do that time. If I cancel plans with her again she’ll start to get suspicious, and then everything will get all messed up. How about Friday? She works in the afternoon so I’ll be free. Sound good? Okay great. See you soon. Bye.” He hung up and tossed down the phone.

Now you’d had enough. With a loud bang you threw open the door so hard it hit the wall and he jumped, whipping around.

“What the f-“

“Free for what?”

He frowned “What?”

“Free. For. WHAT?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You scoffed and pointed at the phone “What are you free for while I work in the afternoon? Some girl? Hmm?”

His went slack jawed and held up his hands “No I-“

“Save it. I KNEW it. I knew you were cheating on me. I’ve known for a long time, so spare me the denial I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me the truth.”

He shook his head and reached for you but you took a step back “It's not what you think it is."

“Oh yeah? Then explain to me what it is. You have 5 seconds.”

He loved to his beside table and opened the door, pulling a blue folder from it and sat down on the bed patting the space next to him “Come here.” He opened it and slid it to you “I’m not cheating on you, I’m doing this.” You looked at him confused as he continued “A vacation. A trip this summer for your birthday.”

You felt so dumb as you looked at the contents of the folder. Plane tickets, passport information, room number and excursion details. A surprise vacation that looked like he’d been working on for a while. You felt terrible.

“Jeremy I-I’m so sorry.”

Be he was smiling “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, I just wanted it to be a surprise is all. Guess I’m not very good at keeping secrets huh?”

“I shouldn’t have accused you.” He looked at your lap but he reached under your chin to pull up your head and look you in the eyes “It’s okay really. But next time just talk to me about it okay? I would never cheat on you. Now.” He handed you the booklet with a smile “Pick some things for us to do.”

[silkendandelion]

The Artifact, Dayedan (Tav) x Astarion Drabble

I love the way Astarion calls the artifact a “pretty thing”, so much that I combined it with the angsty idea someone wrote up about loving someone so much you would live for them, regarding Astarion’s vampiric immortality.

You don’t need any context, not really, except maybe that my Tav is an artificer and this short little thing takes place during the epilogue

~*~

Dayedan hands over the present, haphazardly folded inside a piece of velvet. He never was very good at presentation, Astarion muses, though he admires the azure fabric, soft and cool as he peels back the corners to reveal a replica of a familiar artifact.

“I know it may seem a little tainted, what with who used to live inside the thing, and everything we’ve been through. But you called it a pretty thing once, and I… want you to have them. Pretty things, I mean.”

“You’re a sweetheart. It’s absolutely gorgeous, darling. Is it magical? Did you enchant it?” He turns over the shiny polyhedral in his hands, gently, fingertips tracing the runes on its plates.

“A—little. It’s just a magic mouth spell, a modified knock. Give it the magic word. It will only respond to your voice.”

“Magic word?” He blinks. “Oh—Please.” He tried with a flirtatious rumble, but the sculpture lay quiet.

Remembering his words from before, he tried again, more excited. “Sledgehammer!”

He grinned, delighted, as the artifact began to glow a sunny golden along its creases, and its silver plates bloomed open. The plates, like petals, fell open to reveal a tiny Dayedan, shimmering, starlike and blue like a weave duplicate.

“Oh,” Astarion pondered the tiny figure with soft eyes, restraining himself from touching the image only barely when it began to speak.

‘I hope the angle is all right, I’m almost out of reagents—oh crumbs, is it going already—hello! Hello, Astarion, my love. I… had written a poem for you, but I don’t think poetry is what you want to hear. Not anymore. Also, I’m not ready to risk you leave me when you find out what a rubbish poet I am.’

Astarion smiled down at the little image as he went on.

‘So I’ll just say I love you, then… I love you, Star. I’ll never love anything as much as I love you. You deserve every day you get, even if it’s under the moon, and while that doesn’t change my promise to help you walk in the sun again… I understand how flawed of a wizard I am. If we—can’t find a cure, or if something happens to me, I want you to hear my voice in this box, see me in my youth, so that I—’

Click. Astarion pressed the runes on the plates and the artifact quieted, petals closing to cradle the magical figure.

“Wait, it wasn’t done. You—”

“I don’t need to hear anymore.”

Dayedan watched him cradle the artifact to his chest, his smile soft even as tears gathered on his white lashes. No, no, it wasn’t meant to make him cry—

He grunts awkwardly when Astarion pulls him into a sudden hug, too tight, the artifact still in his hands as he presses his tears into Dayedan’s hairline.

“Selfish of me, I know. You worked so hard on the spell, I’m sure. But I just can’t listen to you talk about… my going on without you. I—it won’t be for a long, long time. I’ve got plenty of time to get there.”

Dayedan’s shoulders relaxed, returning the hug when he felt Astarion nuzzle the rest of his tears into the collar of his robes. He would catch his tears for as long as they had, every time, he knew.

“You have to promise me you will, I won’t accept anything else.” He says into Astarion’s cheek.

“Just two selfish elves, aren’t we?”

“Mm-hmm.” He nods, pressing a kiss to his skin.

And Astarion was silent so long, Dayedan might have wondered if he’d fallen asleep in his neck, if not for the tremor in his cool hands where he gripped him around the middle.

“I promise.”

Dayedan feels a kiss on his own cheek, the words whispered into his skin as the vampire continues.

“Thank you. For the lovely gift and for… everything.”

[dross-the-fish]

If it’s alright, I’d like to see a drabble of how an argument between Dorian & Basil would go. If they argue. If not, then just an interaction.

TW for physical and emotional abuse. Dorian is not kind to Basil at all

....

The breakfast hall was silent save for the clink of china cups hitting saucers and spoons against bowls. For Basil this silence was a reprieve from the usual insults and tantrums. He only hoped Dorian would not break it today.  Then he saw Dorian put down his spoon, stare thoughtfully and open his mouth. With an inward groan Basil realized his hopes were going to be dashed before he had even made it half way through his second cup of tea.

“Enjoying your breakfast?” Dorian gestured at the bland porridge Basil had chosen while his own plate was laden with decadent fruits and cheeses. He picked up a plump grape and sucked it suggestively before chewing and swallowing it with relish.

Basil tried not to snap at him as he replied, “Yes, it’s fine,” he had found he was unable to stomach the rich foods Dorian loved to indulge in. Whether from stress, age or a combination of the two Basil had found that in recent years exotic cheeses, heavy spices and an abundance of wine increasingly made him sick with indigestion. Dorian had taken this as an opportunity, for every meal, to load the table with all of the things he knew Basil couldn’t eat, displaying an endless feast while providing Basil only a single bowl of porridge or a wedge of dry toast. He knew it was a petty punishment. Dorian blamed Basil for their current state of affairs and Basil didn’t entirely disagree that he was to blame.

He had loved Dorian once, the pure, innocent boy he’d met when they were both young and he’d tried so hard to capture that image in the portrait so that it could live forever. The beauty of the portrait had driven Dorian to become obsessed with his own appearance and to dread the ravages of time. So, he had made a bargain and trapped Basil with him in an endless loop of torment neither of them could escape.

Dorian had remained young and beautiful while Basil had grown old. After he had painted Dorian’s portrait Basil had been unable to reproduce the quality in any of his other works and his career as an artist died. He felt as if he had put his entire soul into Dorian’s portrait and so was unable to part from it and from its subject. So here he sat, an impoverished sixty-year-old man, sharing a table with an eternal twenty-year-old boy and waiting for that boy to cut him down cruelly and break his heart like he did every day.

Dorian’s rosy lips pulled into a cold grin, “It suits you, something bland and pallid, mushy.”

There it was, the shot at his weight. Basil swallowed a spoonful of the porridge that seemed to have turned to ash in his mouth. As he had grown older Basil had lost his own youthful beauty, his stomach had grown soft and there was a pad of fat under his chin that bulged when he bent his head down. His father had been fat in middle age, so had his grandfather, he’d know it would be his fate. A fate Dorian had managed to avoid entirely.

Basil sighed, unwilling to continue this cruel, childish game, “Yes, Dorian, I have grown old. That isn’t the brutal insult you think it is. I’ve no fear of getting older like some people,” he struggled to keep his voice calm, to produce an affect of boredom.

Dorian’s attractive face crumpled in momentary rage and then smoothed, “That’s funny, I seem to remember someone lamenting that youth was fleeting. Didn’t you paint me over and over again because you were terrified my beauty would fade before you could capture it on canvas? Wasn’t that the thing you cherished most? What’s changed Basil?”

Basil fought to contain a smirk, there was nothing Dorian hated more than to be the object of someone’s disinterest and after decades of enduring Dorian’s snipes and insults he couldn’t resist twisting the knife, “I outgrew it. Quite the experience, to grow up. If anything, I enjoy my own youth more for how brief it was. I pity that you will never know it. Surely, you’re starting to get bored of being young forever. Doesn’t it feel a bit like the dullest purgatory to never change? You’ve been partying harder lately, getting drunk more often. Are you running away from something? Maybe when you look at the old man I’ve become you know that I’m going to leave you soon and so will everyone else in time. You’re going to be alone Dorian, those that don’t die will get bored and leave because there’s nothing left of you but beauty anymore. You’re nothing but an empty vase, all the flowers died.”

He knew what was going to happen next, Dorian was a poor loser and he could not stand for Basil to win a round of their game of torment. With a cry he flew across the table and seized Basil by his whitening hair, jerking his head back and moving his face so close that Basil could smell the wine on his breath, and despite himself Basil couldn’t help but feel a sense of intoxication.

“This is your fault! We’re here because of you! Don’t you ever fucking forget it. I stayed young for you! You don’t get to resent me for fulfilling your heart’s desire,” Dorian spat giving Basil’s hair such a hard yank backwards that pain flared in his neck and back.

Tears sprang to Basil’s eyes, his lips quivered but he did not sob, wouldn’t allow himself to, not yet “You never knew my heart’s desire. All you fulfilled was your own vanity. That was never a part of you I loved.”

“And yet here you are, rotting in limbo with me. I wonder Basil, if it hurts to feel yourself crumbling to dust while I live like a god.”

“Not much of a god if tormenting in old man and eating smelly cheeses is the highlight of your morning. Godhood was wasted on you,” despite the steely bitterness in his voice, tears fell in anger and grief.

Dorian did the worst thing he could possibly have done; he kissed them, “Oh Basil, you know I can’t stand to see you cry,” he didn’t soften his voice or his grip on Basil’s hair but each touch of lips on his skin was deceptively tender and echoed the clumsy, innocent caresses of their youth. Little darting butterflies that once carried all that was spring and laughter on painted wings. Unable to resist he shut his eyes and held himself pliant in Dorian’s grip.

When Dorian settled on his lips in a cruel and hungry kiss Basil finally jerked his head away, knowing that he couldn’t give Dorian what he was after. His body no longer responded to such provocations “I can’t,” he sobbed, “You know I can’t!”

Dorian shoved him off the chair and stood above him, an angry, twisted smile on his face, “Useless, impotent old man,” he snarled, snatching the bowl of porridge from the table and throwing it at Basil, the porcelain shattered and the porridge splattered across the floor. The sight of Basil, old, fumbling on the ground and covered in food filled Dorian with revulsion. Is that was happened when people grew old? This undignified flabby, wrinkled thing that used to be his beautiful Basil, groping with gnarled hands to clean a mess someone else made? Dorian felt sickened just looking at him…

…and pained. Something about the sight was causing him a deep twisting pain deep in his heart.

A servant moved to help Basil but Dorian held up a hand to stop her. Hating Basil, hurting over Basil and unable to bear the idea of Basil being pitied.

 “Leave it, and don’t make him anymore. He can eat it off the floor or wait until supper, maybe that will help him remember that he is in my house and I am his master. He should be grateful that I continue to tolerate the sight of him…”

As he turned on his heel Dorian Gray pretended not to hear Basil Hallward sobbing behind him.

[a-christmas-carol-from-hr]

radiophile [drabble]

March, 2020

”Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat" “We smoked the last one an hour ago"

The spark of the radio really should frighten her. After all, no radio should be turning on by itself. But Ellen Scrooge had seen stranger things than that. She fixed it with a calm look, the smoke from her third cigarette twining up in the air.

“Don’t you start.” She said quietly. “You have no right to talk.” She reached out for her glass of wine. “And don’t you start on this either. I only allow myself the one.”

The radio’s static grumbled.

“You try working in this world, at this time, and not find a way to relax.”

It jolted again. "Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy, I’ve come home."

“Oh god, not Kate Bush.” She said with a tired laugh. “I can’t stomach it. Yes, yes, I know it's you, but must you play that? Go back to Simon and Garfunkel.”

Here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson.

She laughs again. It was slightly more genuine. “I thank you for that.”

Silence returned with the radio static. It shifted into a gentle lullaby.

“No. That won’t work. Thanks, but won't. So don't grumble." The static shifted again.

"I don’t sleep well anymore. Not that I ever have.” Ellen said quietly. “…I can hear Fred crying through the walls.”

Well, everybody hurts sometimes.

“The boy is only 25, though. He had his whole life ahead of him. He tries his best, but his black mood only gets worse by the day.” Ellen put her head on her hands. “He can’t help it. It-.”

Runs in the family, I come by it honestly.

“Exactly.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I’m…so tired.”

The radio fell silent.

“When you said I had to repent, I didn’t need it to be this hard, you know. It’d be easier to live on this world as wicked. At least I wouldn’t care before.”

"You made me repent for my sins. Ding dong merrily on high. I had exactly three months of fun. And then this blasted pandemic happened. And here I am. Inside again."

Every way you look at it, cha' lose.

"It might have been easier to be bad," Ellen's cigarette burned her lungs. "At least I could suffer the suffering better then. It...gnaws at me. So much pain. So much sadness. And I'm stuck inside."

Nothing there sings, Not even my lark. Larks never will, you know, When they're captive. Teach me to be more adaptive.

"Being adaptive is hardly the problem. I was too adaptive, if anything." She tilts her head at the radio. “You’ve made me care again. And now you’re gone. And I care too much. And there's nothing I can do but wait this out."

You make me like charity, instead of paying enough taxes.

“If only that was the least of this world’s problems.”

The radio went silent again. Ellen sipped at her wine and finished her cigarette. She was about to leave the living room when-.

See the pyramids along the Nile, Watch the sun rise from a tropic isle Just remember, darling, all the while-.

“You belong to me.” Ellen finished with a tired, sad smile. “The one Christmas party we went to at Jorkin’s yes. I remember it. I’ve always liked that song. The only one we ever went to. You made me dance."

See the market place in old Algiers Send me photographs and souvenirs Just remember when a dream appears You belong to me

“And I’ll be so alone without you.” Ellen replied, leaning against a chair. She’d never claimed to be a singer. She spoke the lyrics in return, voice quiet. Maybe you’ll be lonesome too-“

Fly the ocean in a silver plane See the jungle when it's wet with rain Just remember 'til you're home again You belong to me.

“You belong to me.”

She shook her head fondly. She was too tired for any more. “Goodnight, Jacob.”

The radio didn't offer any retort. But as she got into bed, Ellen heard it murmuring gently.

We'll meet again Don't know where, don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.

"Strangelove, indeed." She said out loud.

She almost thought she heard his laugh.

[abiiors]

Just Let Me // M.H.

I got so carried away with this, my god. It’s best friends to lovers??? (read: idiots to maybe lovers). I am so proud of how this turned out and I genuinely hope you like it &lt;3 (reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated)

I’ve kinda tried an omniscient POV in this so I hope it works. It’s mostly angst but there’s a happy-ish end. A positive one at least.

WC: 3.2k (my longest yet)

Warnings - Reader is struggling with mental health, a whole lot of crying in this one, yelling too. And quite a lot of swearing

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Drabbles

Your phone buzzes with another notification in your hands and you stifle another groan. That makes it ten now. 

All you want to do is put on the saddest movie you can find, have a good cry about your day, week, month and then curl up under a million weighted blankets. You simply want to forget about your life for just an hour or two but Matty (or rather, fate) has different plans.

Normally, when he sends you useless memes and silly reels, you make sure to reply to all of them. You even send him stupid stuff in return but all you’ve managed today is to leave him on read. 

It takes too much energy to open DMs, to respond to them—the energy that you simply do not have today. It’s one of those days. Lately, it’s always one of those days. They might as well be the norm now. 

Are you ignoring me now?

His message makes your phone buzz again and you wonder if flushing it down the toilet is a good idea. 

Are you ignoring him? No, yes, maybe a little. But only because he’s just so intuitive when it comes to you. You sigh, open the text chain and start typing up a response. But it’s already too late. 

Your phone is buzzing again; this time with an incoming call. 

You consider pressing decline or just letting it go to voicemail but he won’t give up until he’s sure he hasn’t done another stupid thing to make you mad. So you simply send a quick prayer out into the universe and press Accept. 

‘Hello…’ you try so hard to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. But it cracks on the last syllable anyway.

There’s a small pause at the other end of the line and you know he’s analysing that voice break. The sound in the background slowly grows distant and fades away as you realise that he’s moved to some quieter location. 

‘So…’ he hesitates a bit and you can instantly sense the suspicion in that one tiny word. ‘Are you home?’

‘Yeah,’ you quietly try to clear your throat, ‘yeah, just got in.’

‘And how was your day?’

Shitty! 

‘It was fine,’ you move around a few things on the dresser, hope that the noise is enough to distract him from the shift in your tone. But he’s smarter than you give him credit for. 

‘You’re lying to me.’ It’s not a question, it’s a statement. 

‘I’m not—’

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he interrupts, ‘I am not as stupid as you think I am.’

‘You sure about that?’ you try lamely but it lacks any of the usual laughter in your voice. 

‘Rude! And don’t even try that with me right now,’ his voice holds a rare sternness. It’s not that he’s wrong. He did correctly call you out on that lie. The fact that you’ve known each other for close to seven years now makes it so much harder to lie to him. You contemplate dropping the act. You contemplate telling him everything, all about how life has been so difficult to handle lately; how you constantly feel like you’ve bit off more than you can chew. 

But he’s so busy… And you don’t want to trouble him. 

Their new album is set to release in just a bit over a month and there are a plethora of last-minute things to do; thousands of special edition CDs to sign and finalising the last details of various interviews, finalising the details of the tours. 

‘I’m just a bit more tired than usual, I promise you,’ you bite your lip to keep it from wobbling and hope that it’s enough to convince him. 

‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ There’s no protesting the finality in his tone. Not like you have the chance to because he instantly hangs up after that. 

As much as it is not his fault, it feels like this phone call has leached out the last of your energy. All you want to do is curl up in a ball on the hardwood floor. So that’s exactly what you do. Five minutes turn to ten, turn to fifteen until you lose track of time. Your eyes burn from all the unshed tears and it’s hard to keep them open anymore but you cannot stop staring at the little pink stain on the rug. 

You remember how Matty messed around your house that summer, spilt nail polish on your (then) new rug. How you painted his nails in all the neon colours you owned as revenge. You remember him saying how the stain was his way of making sure you’d never forget about him. 

As if…

A few sounds manage to break through the buzzing in your ears. There’s the sound of tyres pulling in your driveway, the sound of a car door opening and closing. And at last, the jangling of keys as someone tries to open your front door. 

You instantly know who it is. You’ve had each other’s house keys for a good few years now and today, for the first time, you wish he didn’t have them. You wish he wasn’t here at all. You wish you had never picked up his call. 

In a minute, he’s going to walk in here and find you curled up on the floor like a lunatic. He’s going to think you’ve finally lost the last shred of sanity. 

In a minute, you’re going to look at him and find him looking back at you with barely concealed pity. 

In a minute he’s—

‘What…’ he interrupts your train of thought and you make the barest of effort to peek at him through the curtain of hair that’s fallen over your face.

Matty’s not alone; or rather, he’s not empty-handed. He’s holding the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen as well as a giant Tesco bag. You don’t have to ask him to know that he’s bought all your favourite junk food and that sugary ice tea you love so much. You also hear a few wine bottles clinking in there. 

It’s too much, all of it. He’s being so considerate, so nice. And you have no strength left in you tonight to conceal the feelings that bubble up in the face of this niceness. It’s supposed to be priceless, this gesture yet all it manages to do is be the last fucking straw. 

The restraint snaps and your eyes flood with tears and now they can’t stop flooding with tears. When before your eyes burned from unshed tears, now they can’t stop shedding them. And you cannot control the gasps and sobs that are being torn out of you. 

He swears softly and then chucks everything in his hands on the settee. He wastes no time running to you, wrapping his arms around you as he tries to pull you into a sitting position.

‘Sweetheart, hey,’ he’s trying to be soothing which only makes you cry harder. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I just got in,’ you blubber through the tears. It’s such a shitty excuse too but he doesn’t push it. 

‘I’m here,’ he says; repeats it over and over again like a mantra. 

His fingers caress your spine softly, almost lovingly but you refuse to think of it that way. What’s the point in romanticising simple comfort when it will only lead to more heartbreak?

‘Talk to me,’ he urges after a bit. 

‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ you shrug your shoulders, look anywhere but at him. ‘Everything is a bit overwhelming lately, that’s all.’

He softly touches your chin, tries to make you look at him but you won’t budge. 

‘You’re doing it again…’ 

‘Doing what again?’ If playing dumb is what gets him off your back then so be it. 

‘This…’ you see him point at you from your peripheral vision. ‘You’re pretending like it’s not a big deal.’

‘That’s because it’s not a big deal,’ you mumble. Your eyes snag on the photo on the wall. It’s Matty and Hann pointing at some graffiti on the Berlin Wall and making goofy faces and it almost makes you smile. You have fond memories of this trip, maybe even the last time you felt truly happy. 

His gaze follows yours and rests on the photograph. 

‘Remember how you kept butchering the lyrics to 99 Luftballons?’ The smile in his voice is evident and you know he’s thinking of the same memories that you are. 

‘I didn’t butcher them!’ you say begrudgingly. In truth, you absolutely did but that was a carefree version of you. That was a different person who did not mind screaming the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs, who laughed at the stupidest of jokes and cracked even worse ones. 

‘I haven’t heard you sing in a long time,’ he confesses. 

‘I just haven’t found scream-worthy songs in a long time,’ you deflect.

He shakes his head because he realises that you’re intent on being difficult tonight. He has to take a different approach to this.

‘Let’s go back,’ he suggests, ‘maybe even go to Italy this time.’

It’s such a ludicrous suggestion really that you snap your gaze back at him. He’s looking right at you, he’s never stopped looking right at you. 

‘What’s the point in making these plans,’ you laugh bitterly, ‘you’ll be gone in a month anyway.’

‘Then come with me.’

He says it so softly that you’re unsure if he even said it in the first place. He seems to come to the same realisation because he clears his throat. 

‘Come with me.’

Go with him…

‘You think it’s so easy,’ you scoff and wipe at your eyes furiously.

‘Isn’t it?’

It’s these two simple words that cut through all your barely-there calm. 

Isn’t it? 

Isn’t it?

‘And what about my job? My responsibilities? I can’t just run from everything!’ You muster up all the strength left in you as you yell at him. 

It’s as if it has opened up a dam inside you and now you can’t stop the flood of words. 

‘Not all of us have the luxury of doing what we love and travelling and fucking around. Some of us have to SURVIVE! Not all of us can just pause everything at the drop of a fucking hat.’

By the time you’re done, you’re sobbing so hard that you’re certain your heart’s about to crack in two. Any minute now…

But then his warm hands are grabbing your face. ‘Hey, hey,’ he’s whispering, forcing you to look at him, ‘hey, I need you to calm down a bit okay? Okay?’

The tears make his face look blurry and unclear but the concern in his voice is unmistakable. You can almost imagine the deep crease between his brows right now; how his mouth would be tilted downward. Still, the sobs don’t subside. 

‘Please, please,’ he’s begging almost, ‘will you take some deep breaths for me? Please…’

You are trying, you have been trying. All this time you have only been trying to make it from one deep breath to the next. 

‘Please…’ his voice cracks.

Gently, so gently he picks up your hand in his, observes the red half-moons formed on the palm because of how hard you’ve been digging your nails into it, and swipes a thumb over it. It takes him a second or two before he manages to control the tremble in his own hands. It’s only when you touch the soft cotton of his t-shirt, that you realise that he’s holding your hand over his heart. 

The fog clears just a smidge as you feel his strong heartbeat under your palm. Compared to his, yours feels like a galloping horse. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you sob once you’ve come to your senses. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

‘Stop…’

‘I know you work hard,’ you close your eyes tightly, let a few more tears escape, ‘I know your job isn’t easy.’

‘It’s not,’ he confirms. ‘I know you think I’ve no reason to complain.’

‘You’re misunderstanding me—’

‘And I know I’m so lucky to be doing what I do,’ he continues as if you haven’t spoken at all. 

‘That’s not—’ 

‘And I know you take your responsibilities much more seriously than I do…’

‘Listen to me—’ you try to interrupt again but he’s having none of it. 

‘No, you listen to me. Take a sabbatical, quit your fucking job for all I care. It’s not making you happy, it’s never made you happy. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.’

You roll your eyes and try not to scoff at his words but that just fuels him even more. 

‘Fuck, why won’t you let me! You took care of me when I needed it the most or have you forgotten about that? Have you forgotten how you held my hand as I checked into rehab?’

His voice chokes on the last word but he does not waver, he never wavers. 

‘Let me b—fuck, let me be there for you,’ he pleads. 

You grasp at straws, try to come up with even one reason why he shouldn’t be here right now. 

‘You already have a million other things to take care of.’

‘And they are all secondary to you.’ He wastes no time in answering. All this time that you’ve spent not looking at him, all that resolve crumbles in an instant as you finally turn to him. His hand twitches to wipe away the few tears that have slipped out but he stays put.

‘Please stop…’ you whisper—beg—through the lump in your throat. ‘Please stop saying things like that.’

‘And why should I?’ he challenges. 

Because you’re only saying them to make me feel better.

Because you just want this pity party to end. 

Because you are just fulfilling your obligation as my friend…

‘Because you don’t mean them…’ you breathe. 

You might as well have slapped him in the face. That’s how hard he flinches away. In fact, he would much rather you slap him in the face than hear you accuse him of that. 

Your entire body goes cold when he stands up, tries to put distance between you. And you have to grab the arm of the settee to make yourself get up. The spot on the floor where you were curled up should have been warm by now. Instead, it feels ice cold. 

‘I don’t mean them?’ His voice is so soft, so lifeless.

‘No, that’s not what I mean—’

‘You think I’m here to score some brownie points?’

He’s getting riled up now. That was the last straw for him and now you’ve finally managed to step over the boundary. You’ve finally crossed that invisible line.

‘Tell me why I’m here,’ he demands. 

‘I don’t—’

‘I need you to tell me why you think I’m here.’

‘Because you’re my fr—’

‘Don’t you fucking say that word,’ he shouts, ‘Don’t you dare say that word.’

You feel hollow sitting there; like a husk of a person. There’s no point to this conversation anymore but he’s not giving up. 

‘Ask me why I’m here,’ he shouts again and this time you can’t hold it in any longer. 

Your head pounds inside your skull and your patience is wearing thin. You’ve tried apologising, you’ve tried deflecting but nothing has worked. 

‘Fuck!’ you yell back, ‘Why ARE you here?’

‘BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!’ 

The silence that follows is the loudest silence you’ve ever heard.

He staggers back—eyes wide and mouth agape—and almost crashes into your TV. He can’t believe he’s just let that slip out. That was supposed to be his one secret.

And you can’t ignore the way your heart simply stops. 

Because how long have you waited for him to say those words? How long have you imagined whispered I love yous in the dead of the night in Matty’s voice? How long have you yearned?

He’s made up his mind now. He can’t take the words back, he doesn’t want to take them back so he squares his shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes.

‘Because I fucking love you, okay?’

This silent confession, a confirmation that the first one was not a fluke, nearly brings you to your knees. You beg your legs to hold you up as you take a small step toward him. 

‘You do?’ 

‘I have been in love with you for as long as I have known you.’ The exasperation in his voice is clear, so is the undercurrent of regret. 

For as long as I’ve known you…

Seven years…

Seven years that you could have had with him

‘It’s okay if you…’ he has to swallow a few times to stop himself from getting choked up. He has to blink a few times. ‘It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.’

Words cannot do justice to what you feel. 

Seven years…

This evening has gone from difficult to damn near impossible and there’s simply not enough air in the room. 

Seven years that you’ve wasted, you can’t let yourself waste another second. 

You stagger toward him and he’s instantly there to catch you, to hold you so close. He wastes no time tilting your chin up because he will die if he doesn’t do it now. And he will never find peace if he doesn’t know the taste of your lips. 

This kiss is unlike any other you’ve ever had in your life. There’s no elegance to it, no softness. Your teeth clash against each other multiple times in the first few seconds. It tastes like tears and stale cigarettes. It tastes like longing and yearning and hope. Best of all…it tastes like him

And it is, without a doubt, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life. 

It’s the best because it’s him. It’s always been him and now you finally get to have him.

‘I’m an idiot,’ you mumble against his lips. 

‘A proper imbecile,’ he confirms and you slap his arm lightly. 

‘You’re an idiot too!’

‘At least I had the courage to confess,’ he challenges.

You bury your face in his chest, breathe in his familiar scent, listen to his racing heart to calm yours down. Time is irrelevant in this moment. It could have been aeons or it could have been seconds, the only thing that truly matters is his body pressed up against yours. 

He knows he’s probably holding you tighter than he should but he’s held himself together—all alone—for so long that if he lets go now, he will crumble.  

‘So what happens now?’ you speak into the silence that surrounds you. 

‘Now I spend a lifetime making up for the last seven years.’ 

There’s no hesitation there, only determination. 

A fresh wave of tears gathers in your eyes. You know he can feel them dampening his t-shirt but he simply holds you tighter. 

‘I’ve got you, my love,’ he shushes, starts rocking back and forth and presses his lips to your hair, ‘I’ve always got you. And I’m never letting go.’

---

(If you caught the one lyric reference, ilysm)

[dntaewithluv]

Pretty Little Things | kth

Your husband is determined to make things up to you after falling asleep on your anniversary and missing out on the surprise you had planned for him...

💎 Pairing: husband!taehyung x reader

💎 Word Count: 2.4k

💎 Rating: 18+

💎 Genre: Husband au, anniverysary au, smut, fluff

💎 Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (this one is straight into the smut lol), oral (f receiving), making out, hair pulling, dirty talk, marking/biting, groping, scratching, cum eating, brief handjob, teasing, unprotected sex (be safe out there pls), multiple orgasms, dresser sex that’s also mirror sex, brief spanking, mention of possessiveness, brief choking, rough sex, but also they’re married and so in love with each other so it’s also soft™️

A/N: So funny story, I actually wrote most of this immediately after writing and posting Pillow Prince, but I went into a creative and writing slump right after, so I never felt motivated or inspired enough to finish it. Until now that is, thank you Grammy’s Tae 🙏 This is technically the follow up to the Pillow Prince drabble, but it also can just be read as a standalone anniversary drabble too. This is the first time I’ve been able to write in months, so hopefully that means I’m coming out of this rut and will be able to get back to writing more regularly and consistently soon! Thank you as always for your love and support and understanding and patience, and I hope you enjoy this if you decide to read it 💜 Also my possums as always have been so supportive and encouraging to me during this difficult time of struggling to write and I love and appreciate all of you endlessly 🥺 Especially @thatlongspringnight and @miscelunaaa for giving me encouragement and advice when I was feeling so stuck, I truly couldn't have finished this without both of you 🥰Last thing is that since this starts off with the smut immediately the fic will be under the cut!!

Masterlist

"I cannot believe you didn't wake me up for this."

"Baby, you've been, fuck, working so hard this week. You deserved to just rest, oh God Taehyung."

It was becoming increasingly difficult to carry on any kind of conversation when you were propped up against the mirror of your dresser with your husband's head between your legs.

It was the day after your official anniversary, and since Taehyung had passed out on the couch last night, you had decided to try to give him his surprise as soon as he walked in the door from the gym. This had resulted in your husband literally rushing you to scoop you into his arms bridal style before carrying you into your bedroom and setting you on top of the dresser.

His fingers had quickly undone the barely there knot of your black silk robe, greedy hands and sinful mouth immediately descending on your exposed skin. Teasing and torturing you until he had finally settled at your dripping core, diving in to taste you without a moment of hesitation.

Your nails dug into his scalp as you tugged at his soft strands. His hair was still partially pulled back into a ponytail from his workout earlier, and the visual you were treated to every time you glanced down had you coming undone under his skilled mouth that much faster.

"Tae...baby...stop for a minute…please." you panted out, and your husband was instantly surfacing from your cunt, lips glossy with you.

"Baby, what is it? Did I hurt you?" Taehyung asked, eyes reflecting the concern in his voice.

You shook your head as you tried to regain your composure, "No, nothing like that, I promise. It's just that, this was supposed to be your present. Soooo shouldn't I be the one going down on you?"

Your husband chuckled at that, briefly flashing his boxy grin. He stood up fully before capturing your lips in a messy kiss, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Taehyung pulled back slowly, teeth nipping and dragging out your bottom lip as he did so.

"Your pleasure is my gift. I can't think of a better anniversary present than making my beautiful and amazing wife come for me." he said, voice raspy as he leaned his forehead against your own.

Your breaths mingled together as Taehyung gripped your thighs, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over your skin.

"I love you so much, Tae." you murmured into the small space between you as you trailed your fingertips up and down his arms.

"Mmm, I love you, baby. And I want you," your sharp gasp pierced the air as his fingers ghosted over your clit, "to come for me."

His teeth grazed your ear at the same time that you felt his touch circling your bundle of nerves again.

"You know, I worked up quite an appetite from the gym. And what I'm craving is, your sweet little cunt."

His words fell like the sweetest honey on your ears, and your walls constricted around nothing. Taehyung's gaze sent heat coursing through your body in every direction, his dark eyes trained on you as he lowered himself until his face was situated back between your legs.

"You might wanna hold onto something." he suggested, voice coming out slightly muffled.

Confusion washed over you, "Wait, why? Ahhh Tae!"

You squeaked in surprise, hands shooting out to grip the dresser on either side as Taehyung yanked you down to bury his face in your cunt once again. His hands dug harshly into your ass, practically suctioning you against his face.

He groaned, beautiful and deep, as he drank you in, and the vibration had your nails scratching against the wood frantically.

"Fuck, Taehyung. Oh God."

Your thighs threatened to lock around your husband's head as he continued fucking you vigorously with his tongue. His nose kept bumping against your aching clit, and you whimpered at the stimulation.

"Shit, baby. I'm close." you hissed, your head falling back against the mirror as your legs began to shake.

Taehyung grunted in response before switching his attention to focus on your clit. His lips closed around your bundle of nerves as he sucked it into the wet warmth of his mouth, sending sparks, bright and hot, shooting through you.

"Tae. Tae Tae Tae…"

You chanted his name over and over again, the weight of it on your lips the only thing keeping you grounded in reality, and not floating out of your body in ecstasy.

"Let go for me, baby. I wanna fucking taste you." Taehyung growled against you, and you could feel yourself starting to unravel with each swift flick of your husband's tongue.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, Taeeeeeeee." you keened, the thread inside of you running out faster and faster.

He suddenly nipped sharply at your bud, and you shrieked as stars flooded your vision, soaking Taehyung's face and shirt with your release. Your husband moaned into your cunt before sucking and slurping at your messy folds, determined to clean you up until you were writhing in oversensitivity and weakly trying to push his head away.

He chuckled warmly, pressing adoring kisses all over your thighs and stomach as you tried to clear the post orgasm fog from your mind.

"Baby?"

"Hmm?"

"There's one more thing I want for our anniversary."

"What's that, my love?" you asked breathlessly, Taehyung mouthing lazily against your neck.

"I want to feel my wife cum all over my cock. And, I want you to hop down and face the mirror, so you can see exactly what I’m doing to you. Think you can do that for me, baby?”

“Hmm.” you hummed as he slid the robe that was still barely hanging on your figure all the way off your shoulders, heat immediately blooming across your newly exposed skin as Taehyung’s lips moved over you, “Anything for my husband.”

Nothing turned you and Taehyung on more than the constant reminder that you were married, and belonged only to each other. It was evident in the way that Taehyung’s teeth had sunk into your shoulder as soon as the word had left your mouth. Before you knew it, you were being lifted into the air yet again, and then set down on the floor just as quickly. Your husband wasted no time as he tugged his t-shirt over his head and stepped out of his gym shorts and boxers.

Your mouth salivated at the sight of your very gorgeous and very naked spouse. You reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you slipped off your heels, now completely bare except for the dazzling diamond necklace that rested just above your breasts. Taehyung shamelessly ogled you, his eyes growing another shade darker as they focused on the jewels littering your neck and chest.

“I see you’re wearing your anniversary present.” he spoke up, deep voice distorted with want.

"Correction." you started, and Taehyung tensed as you ran your fingertips teasingly over his hard length, "I'm only wearing your anniversary present."

Your hand wrapped around his cock, and you began stroking him in earnest. You could literally hear the groan starting to rumble in your husband's throat.

"Fuck. Don't tease. I don’t wanna end up breaking our brand new dresser that your parents got us for Christmas, or you.” he warned, a devious smirk creeping across his features.

“Well, my love, I wouldn’t need to tease if my husband would just hurry up and fuck me already.” you challenged back, your hand pumping him faster.

You barely had time to register large hands wrapping around your waist and twisting you around to face the mirror on the dresser. Taehyung’s reflection loomed over you, looking like sin incarnate as his gaze found your own in the glass. Your hands curled around the wood in anticipation, nails digging in at the feeling of Taehyung’s cock prodding at your soaking entrance.

“Fuck. Tae?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Take your hair down.”

It was more a command than a request, and your husband’s smug grin stared back at you from the mirror.

“Mmm, and why’s that?”

“So I have something to hold onto.” you answered simply, reflecting a knowing look back at him.

Your eyes were glued to the glass as Taehyung reached up to undo his ponytail, gorgeous, long, dark locks falling to frame his handsome face. His teeth tugged at your ear as you felt him start to push into you, "Happy Anniversary, baby."

"Fucking shit, Tae." you swore as he sank further between your walls.

It didn't matter how many times your husband had fucked you, you still always loved the way his cock split you open. The all too familiar and delicious stretch already had pleasure blooming across your senses. Taehyung grunted behind you once he had buried himself in you completely, and the two of you looked back at your reflections for several moments.

Something about actually being able to see what you were doing to each other had you already clenching around him as a shiver ran through you.

"What's the matter, baby? You look so fucked out already," your husband in the mirror taunted as his lips dragged over the skin of your neck, and one of his large hands reached around to grope your breast, "and I'm just barely getting started with you."

You chuckled and swallowed the moan threatening to escape when Taehyung pinched your nipple between his fingers.

"I could say the same for you. What's the matter, baby? The gym must have really kicked your ass today if you can't even fuck your own wi-"

You were cut off by your own squeal in response to the harsh slap that Taehyung delivered to your ass.

"The real work out is getting my wife to fucking behave." he huffed out before swatting you again.

It was impossible to miss the way your face contorted in pleasure in the glass.

"Fuck. You know I have to keep my husband on his toes." you retorted, one of your hands reaching back to snake into his hair.

Taehyung hissed as your nails scraped against his scalp, “To be fair, you definitely managed that with your little anniversary surprise.”

Your proud little smile was mirrored back at you, along with the image of your husband’s hand once again sliding up your figure. You could almost make out the goosebumps left behind by his touch in the reflection. His long, slender fingers traveled higher still, fiddling with his anniversary present that adorned your bare skin.

Your breath hitched as his digits curled around the jewels with a hint of possessiveness, his hungry eyes seeking out your own in the mirror. Taehyung brought his mouth to your ear, the man in the glass a dark and sinister presence towering over your much smaller and shaking figure.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, hand fully tangling in the chain of diamonds and reaching higher until his fingers were splayed across your throat, "and all mine."

You let out a shameless moan as you let your head fall back against his chest, your free hand that wasn't pulling at his wavy strands struggling to find purchase on the dresser in front of you. You felt the drag of your husband's cock inside you as he started to slowly draw back out.

"Fuck, baby. You're so sexy. I love you so much, I'm so lucky." Taehyung rasped in your ear before slamming back into you, his hand around your neck tightening just slightly.

A surprised gasp left your lips as you were literally rocked forward by the force of his thrust.

"Shit." you cursed, followed by a series of giggles as the dresser rattled from Taehyung's movements.

Your husband chuckled behind you, "So maybe us breaking the dresser wasn't actually a joke after all."

You spent a moment taking in the couple being reflected back to you. The two people breathing hard and laughing slightly. The husband and wife, who in their passionate desperation to fuck, had failed to account for the mechanics of having rough sex against a piece of furniture.

"Yeah, uh, this was hot in theory, but I really don't wanna end up hurting you." Taehyung spoke up again, his voice much softer this time and laced with his concern for you.

You pressed a kiss to his jaw since it was all you could reach at the moment.

"Why don't we take this to the bed so you can fuck me like you mean it?" you suggested, teeth nibbling along his perfect jawline.

You had barely processed the growl that slipped out from the man behind you before you felt Taehyung's cock slipping from you as you were once again being maneuvered into the air. Your back was hitting the plush sheets of your bed moments later, with your husband's weight immediately descending upon you.

He wasted no time before burying himself inside you once again, and you cried out as your hands clutched at his back. With the dresser no longer an issue, Taehyung easily started back up with his harsh punishing thrusts. Your screams and moans filled the space between you and mixed with his own sounds of pleasure and exertion. You held onto each other so tightly that both of you were sure to have marks from the other in the morning.

You were both already so wound up from all the teasing and foreplay that you knew it wouldn't be long before you were reaching your high together. Taehyung was giving you everything he had, and you tried to reciprocate as best as you could with the energy you had left.

Your orgasm overtook you so suddenly that you couldn't even warn him, but you didn't have to because your husband was following right behind you. You came right after each other with his hand once again twisted in diamonds and wrapped around your neck, breathless "I love yous" dying on both of your lips.

Taehyung carefully collapsed on top of you a moment later, bodies sticking together as both of your chests heaved up and down. You held him close to you as your fingers gently threaded through his wild and messy hair. Your husband hummed against your skin, his own digits lazily drawing patterns into your side.

"Please don't ever let me sleep through an anniversary present again." he mumbled quietly, and you could hear the sleepiness in his voice.

You gave a weak laugh, jostling Taehyung slightly, "Okay, my love, it's a promise."

[aceie-desire]

Hello again! Lemme get a writing request in too while I'm at it, hehe. :3 You got any househusband octotrio headcanons? I'm always starving for some seafood.

Househusband Octotrio Drabble Headcanon Thingies

✎ Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech

☁︎ Fluffy

⚠︎ Warnings: Slight suggestiveness in Jades part.

☆ Notes: I sat and stared at this for an hour before I could start writing. writers block kinda sucks ngl, but i did try my best!! so i hope you enjoy lol

! Word Count: 650ish

Azul

He hates to just sit around, especially when he thinks there’s more to do. He loves to keep busy, he always has to be doing something.

It doesn’t all have to be manual labor though, he might spend hours looking up recipes that he’d think you’d enjoy, or taking extra classes, like a cooking or spend some time peacefully gardening.

He likes to pack your lunch every morning, and he’ll always add a lot bit of your favorite snack to give you a boost of energy to get through the day

He’s always overworking himself, and ignoring his needs. Like rest.

“Ah, y/n, you’re home early. What a surprise…”

“Are you okay Azul, you look like you’re drenched in sweat- Are you coming down with a fever…?”

“No I feel fine,” He reassured you.

“You’ve been overworking yourself too much then.”

“I have not. I’ve just been doing what needs to be done.” He scolded, trying to prove a point.

“Come on, I’ll cook dinner today, it’s your turn to rest.”

“But you’ve been at work all day- It’s fine really-!”

“And you’ve been cleaning all day, it’s your turn to take a break.”

“Thank you y/n… I appreciate it.” He sighed with a smile, knowing that arguing was futile.

Jade

An absolute clean freak, but in a chaotic way. You’ve never seen anyone scrub a toilet with so much energy and effort but with such a stoic yet smiley face.

He might leave things out a bit if he gets preoccupied with something else, like he’ll leave the faucet on for hours while he’s vacuuming, or he’ll leave out a carton of milked cause he remember that he needed to clean the windows.

But he likes to work by himself, you’ll offer to help but he can be stubborn when he wants to, so you cave, and right after you tell him that the sink is on fire, for the 3rd time that week. It was a Tuesday.

He loves to welcome you home from work with kind gestures, like preparing a surprise picnic, or giving you a massage if you mention that you’re sore.

“Ah… Please be gentle, Jade.”

“Of course, y/n…”

“Uggh…Not so hard!”

“I apologize it’s hard to contain myself when you’re… like this.”

“Jade! It- it hurts! But it feels so good.”

“I know y/n, trust in me.”

“Nngh…Azul was right, you really do give great shoulder massages.”

And poor Grimm was outside your door wanting to ask you something, traumatized. Ngl, situations like that happen quite frequently.

Floyd

Your shelved are filled with random things he finds at markets or thrift stores. Including a very creepy doll that you swear you saw blink.

But Floyd calls it his treasure so you just shrug and let him continue his collection. He is a bit of a hoarder though and you need to help him sort through a bunch of things.

You try the pile method but he ends up putting everything in the maybe it the keep pile. You get absolutely no where.

He hates being bored but he won’t do a lot of extra work, so he’ll go out and find more things, like little nicknacks that he says reminds him of you. …Like a cartoon squirrel easy-bake-oven. You decide to take it in stride.

He also breaks things quite a bit, he tries to fix them for the most part, but sometimes he just gives up and will put broken dishes back in the cabinets.

“Why are all of our dishes broken..?”

“They’re not broken, now we have dinner ware for 57 more little shrimpies!”

“…When are we inviting 57 shrimp over dinner?”

“Next Wednesday, do you not check the calendar? We put it up for a reason.”

“…My bad..?”

requests are open!!

[becca-e-barnes]

Hear me out — Bucky would love every inch of your body. As he’s taking down your panties, he grabs each leg and worships them as if he was born to do it. And even though you’re surprised, he gives the most sensual, tender foot kisses on the arch of your soles that send spasms through your body. It’s almost enough to send you over the edge just by the way his lips move over your erogenous zone. Could you please extend on this tenderness in one of your upcoming works, or even a Drabble? Love your work🥺🥺

I cannot lie besties, I think this is my favourite fic I’ve ever written. This is one of the only times I’ve proof read a fic of my own and it’s made me all 🥵 I am so here for intimate, married!bucky. Anon, if you don’t write fics, please start because this request had me low-key shook. Definitely not a foot fetish piece, dw

(Also I start my new job next Monday!! I have most of this week off so I’m hoping to write a lot of my requests and post them this week so apologies if it feels like a spam)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: Your first date night with Bucky after you have your second baby

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex (pls wrap it), married!bucky, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alcohol mention, marriage kink? possessive Bucky, alcohol mention, lil implied voyeurism, feet do come up but not in a fetishy way? Fluff, mentions of past trauma (nothing specific)

Minors, do not interact

It was your first real date in months, a whole evening planned out by Bucky. He had told you not to worry about a thing, he would sort your outfit, book the table and call your parents, all you knew was that you had to be ready by 6pm. You dropped your kids to your parents house at 3pm together, giving them a few extra kisses goodbye since you wouldn’t see them until the following day. Ollie was so excited to spend the night with his grandparents, he almost couldn’t have cared you and Bucky were leaving him and Lily, your youngest, wouldn’t be any the wiser since she was only seven months.

Coming back home was almost torture for Bucky, knowing the house was empty, there would be no interruptions if you both decided to blow off some steam before dinner but given how fancy the restaurant he had booked for dinner was, you both had so much to do to get ready. So instead he tried to contain himself, building up the suspense as much as possible. You showered in separate bathrooms, Bucky taking time to neaten up his beard in the steamed up mirror, chest glistening with water, towel wrapped around his hips, meanwhile you got dried and dressed, loving the black floaty dress he’d chosen. The huge slits up either side were more daring than you were used to, your legs peeking out as the material fluttered around them when you walked but you knew you looked good and Bucky would love it. He had picked out a pair of strappy heels too, making your legs look longer and slimmer and some gold jewellery, knowing how much you liked your accessories to tie in with your wedding bands. Your hair and makeup didn’t take too long and around 5:30, Bucky joined you already dressed in his suit.

“Hot. Fucking. Damn. Mrs Barnes, you are breathtaking.” He was looking at you like he’d never seen anyone so stunning in his entire life, eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of your legs through the splits in the dress and how the shape of the bodice made your waist look even neater.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we aren’t gonna make it to dinner.” You teased seductively and you could swear you heard an actual growl leave his throat. Fuck, he was half hard already, cock stirring as his head swam with all things you, his need only heightened by the smell of your perfume.

“We don’t have to go. Could stay here and let me eat you instead.” He offered, making you laugh since you knew he was completely serious. He crossed the short space between you, slotting in neatly behind you, your back pressed to his broad chest as he took in the sight of you both in the full length mirror.

“Who would’ve thought the mother of my children would be so damn sexy? Two kids later and you look even more beautiful than the day I married you.” He purred, his dick twitching in his trousers against the swell of your ass, lips buried in your hair behind your ear as he spoke. His hands were wandering slowly from your waist, trailing his fingertips down to where the fabric split to expose your thighs. As much as you were enjoying yourself, you just couldn’t spoil the surprise you had lined up for later so you pulled away, stepping to the wardrobe to pull out a little gold clutch.

Bucky lived for the tease. You knew that, hell, it was even evident from the dress he had picked out for you. He loved to be riled up and kept that way and he knew he had all the time in the world tonight.

Dinner was absolutely unbelievable, the restaurant had been so fancy, dimly lit by candles, Bucky spending all night admiring how the flames danced on the skin of your collarbones. You looked nothing short of stunning and he couldn’t keep his hands off you, his fingers wandering under the table to grasp your ankle when you had your legs crossed, trailing gently up your calves, never getting any higher than your knee. He wasn’t making it easy to focus on making conversation, that’s for sure. It was lovely to go out and not have to worry about the kids, reaffirming the fact that you very much still had a life of your own outside of being a mother, something that you hadn’t really felt recently. Compliments poured out of Bucky in the same way he poured the champagne from the iced bucket beside you both, telling anyone who asked that you were celebrating having some “alone time” as new parents.

“You know, I still fall harder in love with you every single morning.” He smiled during dessert, one hand holding his spoon, the other stroking your leg under the table. “I can’t take my mind off you. No matter what I’m doing. You and the kids are my world. You gave me the two biggest blessings I never thought I would have. You just blow my mind, you know that? Still can’t believe you married me.” Your heart ached in your chest hearing him open up like that. He was the best dad to your kids and you loved him endlessly so it hurt a little hearing how he still couldn’t believe this life was his.

It was that romantic vulnerability that fuelled you both as you headed out to get a cab back home, Bucky trying to keep you close, never letting his hand leave your waist. You were his and he wanted to do everything he could to show that off.

It didn’t take long before you were stumbling in through the door to your empty house, Bucky’s lips on your exposed neck in the cold evening air making you shiver as you unlocked the door. Before you even really had time to think, Bucky had you pressed against the door, his lips firm and insistent on your own.

“Thought about this all night angel. Since I saw you in that dress, I’ve been thinkin’ bout taking it off you. You know how hot it is? Knowin’ we’re married, that you’re actually all mine?” His words came out in a breathy gasp, pure lust taking over.

“Bucky, fuck, bedroom.” You whined, your back arching away from the door, needing to be closer to him, pressing your chest flush with his. A growl escaped his throat as his hands wrapped around your exposed thighs, picking you up and carrying you to drop you unceremoniously onto the bed before layering his body on top of yours again in a passionate kiss. It was all teeth and tongues and needy gasps, pouring all his love and adoration of you into a single gesture. His suit jacket and tie were discarded quickly, your hungry hands gripping his back through his shirt, needing to feel him against you.

“God, you’re keen tonight aren’t you angel? All worked up for me?” He cooed softly, pulling back to unbutton his shirt and take in how beautifully disheveled you were beginning to look underneath him.

“Yes daddy, need you, fuck.” You whimpered, tearing a groan from Bucky’s throat. His fingers stopped working on his buttons for a second to press his growing bulge in his trousers to your core that was still covered by the front slip of fabric of your dress. You knew the effect that title had on him when it fell from your lips like that and you loved it.

“Fuck, gonna treat you so well tonight angel. Gonna take this pretty little body apart. You won’t even believe how good daddy is gonna make you feel.” He went back to undoing his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor before grasping your right foot in his hand.

“Bet these heels weren’t comfortable toots, lemme take them off for you.” He cooed softly, finding the buckle and undoing it, unwinding all the straps that clung up your legs. With the shoe finally discarded you let out a little hum of relief, Bucky’s cool metal hand squeezing your aching foot nicely. Your eyes closed, lying back on the bed, letting him work his magic until you felt his mouth press to your sensitive arch, lips soft and smooth as his hand continued squeezing. You hadn’t expected it to transport you straight to heaven but it did, little groans falling from you. Noticing you were loving the attention, Bucky’s touch became heavier, his kisses more open mouthed, teeth grazing the most sensitive areas, making you shiver.

“Feels so good Bucky.” You whined, eyes squeezing shut as his teeth grazed your sensitive arch once more, his stubble rubbing against your heel nicely.

“Oh honey, is daddy making you feel so good you’re forgetting how to be a good girl? Daddy’s mouth knocking all thoughts from that pretty little head? Don’t worry angel, no punishments tonight. Daddy just wants to make you feel good.” As he spoke he had undone the strap on your left shoe, giving it the same attention. You hadn’t even noticed you had slipped up and used the wrong title but you couldn’t have cared with his flesh hand now working your right foot in time with his metal hand and his mouth on your left. You were practically blissed out already, aware your pussy was dripping from so much intimacy. This wasn’t something you and Bucky had tried before but you knew it would absolutely come up again on those nights he was intent on worshipping your body.

After feeling like he had given your feet enough attention, his mouth drifted to your ankle, kissing along it, trailing his wet lips higher up your left leg before lifting the slip of the dress out of the way. He could’ve cum in his pants at the sight that greeted him, your pretty pussy, absolutely soaking wet, not covered by panties as he had been expecting.

“Fuck, nothing underneath this dress at all? You really went to dinner in nothing but a dress, heels and a wedding ring? If I had known that I might’ve fucked you then and there on the table.” You squealed out as his metal finger dragged along your dripping core, spreading your slick over his fingertip, looking up at you in wonder. You were absolutely coming apart under his touch, your body aching for him to give you more.

“Should’ve fucked me there daddy. Let everyone know I’m all yours.” You whined, your voice coming out higher and needier than you expected.

“You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you princess, daddy filling you up for all those people to see.” His voice was rough and low, his own need shining through. Without giving you time to think, he slipped a finger inside you, stroking your clenching, silky walls without hesitation, not even giving you time to adjust, lips meeting your clit and sucking hard. You moaned, high and needy, fingers tangling in his dark hair to pull him closer to your dripping sex.

“Feels so good daddy, so so good.” It felt even better knowing your house was empty. You could be as loud as you wanted and you wouldn’t risk waking the kids.

“You like being stuffed by daddy, don’t you toots?” Your husband quizzed, pressing a second finger into your unbearably tight heat, making you mewl weakly. He was working you embarrassingly quickly towards an earth shattering orgasm, one that you knew you wouldn’t even be able to hold back if you tried.

“Is my baby losing herself on daddy’s big fingers? Oh honey, you haven’t even got my cock yet and you’re almost senseless already. You gone all cockdrunk on daddy? Can’t get enough can you? Feels like you’re ready to cum already. Don’t know if I can let you honey, that ‘no panties’ trick was naughty of you. Just can’t resist takin’ your panties off when I’m around.” His fingers had stilled inside you, making you almost cry from need.

“No daddy please, please, I’ll be so good. Jus’ needed you daddy, needed you to be able to slip into me if you wanted to. Needed you to be able to fuck me any time you felt like it.” His eyes went wide at your little admission, fingers begin to to move again, wet sounds filling the room.

“This little body really is all mine isn’t it. You know you’re mine. Such a good girl.” He breathed out in awe before his tongue moved to flick against your clit again, tearing sobs from you as he pulled you over the edge of pleasure. You couldn’t help how you thrashed on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair, the other tangled in the sheets beneath you, rocking your hips against his face to ride out your explosive high. Your thighs shook as Bucky pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean, watching how your chest heaved after your orgasm. The sight of him could almost make you cum again. His beard was shining with your slick, his chest was bare, his abs looking nothing short of delicious and his dress trousers looked painfully tight around the crotch, his bulge from his neglected cock was so evident. He looked godly and he was all yours.

“I love you so much.” You whispered, noticing how his face softened at the little wholesome admission.

“Oh baby, I love you too.” His lips slotted over yours, slower, reverently, tongue pressing against yours like it was your first kiss all over again. There was no need to go too fast after all, you weren’t in any rush tonight. His hands clasped with yours, pinning them to the bed over your head, little sighs escaping both of you as the kiss became more intense. His clothed cock began to rut against your bare core, knowing your slick would make a mess of his trousers but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care.

“You saved me, you know that? You really are an angel.” His words reminded you both this wasn’t just about sex, this wasn’t just passion and lust and need, pent up after months of only having quiet quickies in the early morning hours before your children woke. No, this was love making. It was slow, it was worship and praise, thanking the other for their commitment and dedication to your little family. A reminder of the vows you had taken, the promises you had made to each other feeling renewed by the way your bodies reacted to one another. You weren’t just lovers, you were partners. Soulmates.

“You saved me too Buck.” You whispered back, not wanting to dwell on the past too much, choosing instead to think ahead to the future and all the happiness that awaited you as a family.

“Need’a be ‘nside you angel, can’t wait much longer.” His voice was strained, almost sounding overcome by his own steadily growing need. You both separated long enough for you to pull your dress off over your head and for Bucky to take his shoes, socks, trousers and underwear off, leaving you both completely bare. It didn’t get any more raw and vulnerable than this. His cock looked thick and heavy, weeping with need as he gave himself a few slow strokes, taking in the sight of you baring yourself to him. It was at times like this that he made the mental note to kiss every single mark on your skin after you had both finished, needing to worship every freckle, every scar, every stretch mark that made your body his safe place.

“So beautiful like this, Mrs Barnes.” He whispered, his voice hanging in the air as he leaned forward, pressing himself to your entrance, beginning to slip in. It was still a tight fit, your walls fighting to accommodate him as quickly as possible. As always, he gave you some time to adjust after he got fully seated inside you, your breaths mingling together as you both got accustomed to the fact you were absolutely full of him.

Neither of you could have waited much longer before he began to move, pulling out slowly before pressing back in, gasps escaping both of you.

“You feel incredible, Jesus, you’re so big.” You whimpered, the thick head of his cock nudging that sweet spot inside you in a way that only came from years of practice.

“Such a tight fuckin’ squeeze for me angel, you don’t make it easy to last. Pussy is grippin’ me so tight. You’re so wet too, fuck.” He hissed, mouth watering at the wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined. His pace was increasing gradually, careful not to give you too much at once and risk hurting you. You felt like he was fucking you senseless, all thoughts leaving your head except that growing pressure in your lower tummy, telling you Bucky was hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh no, daddy I’m close.” You whined, gripping his ass to pull him in deeper as you felt your walls contract. Bucky fucked you through your high, loving how you didn’t hold back any of your moans for him.

“Tha’s it angel, cum for daddy. Such a good girl, love seein’ you like this. Daddy’s cock is all you need, hm? Gonna leave you feelin’ fucked out baby girl. Know you’ve got another orgasm in there for me. You can gimme one more.” You cried out as he sped up, thrusting into you harder and faster, not giving you a chance to come down from your high before he was working you towards another. His abs rippled as he chased his own release, fucking you at a good steady pace. His brow was furrowed, mouth hanging open, curses and mumbles of your name dragged from his plump, wet lips and God he looked beautiful.

“Buck please, ah, cum in me! Cum in your wife.” You knew those words would drag him painfully close to finishing but ever the gentleman, he couldn’t cum until you did. Without much more thought, he reached down and grasped one of your legs, bending it up between your bodies, pulling back a little. His new angle meant he was pounding your sweet spot in a way that had you seeing stars but it also meant he could caress your ankle how he had done before. His lips latched onto your arch, the beard tickling ever so slightly once again and you were right on the edge. Bucky maintained eye contact with you as his teeth grazed over the most sensitive part of your body, absolutely worshipping you. He could see how good it felt from the look of your face, two more well timed thrusts, coupled with an open mouthed kiss had you cumming, practically screaming your way through your high as Bucky tore it from your body mercilessly.

“Oh fuck, tha’s it, fuck yes. Look at you makin’ a mess for me. Love you so much honey, fuck.” Bucky had lost it, pounding into you recklessly, feeling like you were clenching around him harder than ever before. He came inside you with a grunt, still watching your face, cock pressed as deep inside you as possible, letting rope after rope of hot cum paint your silky walls. He pulled out of you after he was sure he was done, flopping onto the bed beside you. You were both spent and sweaty, chests heaving and totally satisfied, fucked out and in love.

“That…. Wow, that was just… Wow.” You laughed giddily, not feeling like you could find a way down from the cloud you were currently floating on, cuddling in close to his firm chest.

“You can say that again.” He chuckled, kissing you tenderly, metal fingers trailing up and down your spine slowly.

“Let’s hope that’s not how we end up with baby number three.” You smiled, kissing his stubble, letting him catch his breath.

“Who knows honey, guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He laughed heartily, pulling you into another loving kiss.

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