#but alas he is a crook

[luxiowins]

Colored one of my earlier unburied riddler trad doodles :-)

[rodismancave]

. the world would b a better place if people remembered rodimus was an active part of high command. It pisses me off that by the time mtmte ends the fanom view of him has ruined how people perceive him so badly that so much of his narrative significance and character development was literally dropped down the drain for shits and giggles.

literally society if fanom remembered he was in charge of a whole resistance in a big Cybertronian capital and was entrusted with its literal fate, was in charge of a Whole Team that was incredibly well-picked for their jobs and were successful in missions and the only reason the last mission didnt go right was due to insider sabotage, is a part of high command, and tells Optimus when hes being a fucking pussy to his face:

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT

— ꒰ including ꒱ — diluc, wriothesley, childe, ayato

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — dirty talk, oral (fem! receiving) rough syx & dom genshin men, petnames used: baby, love, darling, good girl, pussy drunk men, fem! reader ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ

— ꒰ DILUC ꒱

you wince, before feeling diluc's hands caress your frame softly as he urges you towards the bed slightly, "lay down, c’mon hurry for me, i will get on my knees for you," your face burned at his words, your blood boiling extremely hot— regardless, you do not go against your boyfriends instructions and obediently drop on your back, head bouncing against the soft pillows and legs propped up your heels.

diluc follows you right away, settling his hands against your lower stomach, "let me slip these off you," and his voice was pummeling into your blood, sounding raspier than usual, presenting himself teasingly, taunting

how can someone be so sexy, yet also gentleman alike at the very same time?

you always wonder and never find an answer.

his fingers are skillful, yet they are also dangerous, feverishly slipping into the waistband of your wet panties to slide them off you— your pussy bare and exposed now, clenching around nothing as it earns you a disgustingly sinful groan from him.

"there you go, you're so pretty," he breathes and spits on your clit before rubbing the saliva over your puffy folds with his digits, "my pretty girl."

diluc leans into your thighs and places a subtle kiss on your knee, holding a crooked smile— such kiss was certainly concealing something beneath the surface, mingled with aroused ideas of how the next couple of hours will look like.

"you know what to do, right?" he motions, getting on his knees as his dick presses painfully against his tight pants. of course, you know what he's talking about and situate your legs against his shoulders, earning yourself an appreciate hum from the red haired man.

without a word, warm air wafts over your slicked folds and trembling skin as diluc's fingers hold against you gently, the tip of his wet muscle experimentally nudging at the hood of your sensitive clit.

he doesn't falter in his rhythm and gives your cunt a good, fat lap of tongue and saliva before trailing down to your hole.

he noses his way to your clit and presses his mouth against it firmly, your cunt throbbing at the connect of his tongue licking you in shifting patterns, the vehement sounds of saliva and arousal slapping and slapping and splattering all over his tongue had your toes curled, lips parted.

"ooh you taste so good darling, you taste so fucking good, fuck—" he moans, and he sounded so desperate, like he's going to skip the foreplay once and for all and fuck you into the bee until you couldn't walk nor move for weeks.

your legs entwine and shiver on his shoulders, your control over your body lost and slipping from the palms of your hands as murmurs of encouragement hit your sensitive pussy— your fingers splayed possessively into his scarlet hair as you ride his face and cry his name.

"let me make you feel good, it's gonna feel good, promise," diluc mumbles into your cunt as his nose continuously nudges into your puffy clit, his slender fingers probing at your hole when his tongue laps around you.

in between your quivering thighs— everything felt wet, disgustingly sloppy and so hot and you wonder if diluc didn't secretly use his vision on you to get this particular effect from you.

alas, his slacked mouth was meeting your hips, your core stuttering up into his face as you craved, no, needed more friction, needed more of his voice crumbling at the taste of you as your eyes drift over the fluffy clouds of pleasure in your head.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

wriothesley looks down on your twisted expression and a sheen line of sweat pillowing on your forehead, "look at me," his face was tilted at the side as you felt his complete weight cover, crush and fold your body in half.

the press and burn of his cock was breaching in and out of you fast, in fact, yes, wriothesley was aware of your strong liking towards his dominating aura in the bedroom, especially when he's looking at you through glazed eyes and his sweat laced chest rising and falling when you clench around him.

he knows it all, and he's been wanting to pleasure you over and over all this time.

"look at me in my eyes," he commands again, forcing you to look at him, yet all you could muster was to part your eyes slightly, an overcast mist of salaciousness prevailing over you.

he shatters, widens and parts your sloppy hole effortlessly, turning you addicted off the strong, thick compress in your pussy that you almost didn't even realize he's managed to coax literal tears from your eyes, pull them out one by one, small crystals sinfully glimmering on your sticky lashes and shouting more more more.

"you're so good, you're so good, my good fucking girl," he drawls proudly and smirks down at you, his voice explosive with thirst and longing, "my good girl, mine, you hear me?" as he assures you and moves his hips with one quick roll of his dripping dick, beginning to fuck into you.

wriothesley knows you deserve it, deserve to be bounced back and forth the bed until you're full of his semen, yes, you do, and you know it.

"you feel me in you? feel me, fucking feel me baby,"

driven by curiosity, you focus your eyes at the man on top of you, swearing there was nothing more handsome than somebody like wriothesley, a highly respected duke, whispering those sweet and filthy profanities into your mouth while his cock thickens within your soft walls, "does that feel good, yeah? i can see it on your face"

"yesyesyes… it does," you whine and squeeze at his words, his cock dragging and pressing and dragging so strongly along your wet walls before he's stuttering in midst a long, languid thrust, his head thrown back and facing up the ceiling— not long after, loading you up of his creamy cum.

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

"come on, show me how good i make you feel," childe messily flicks his cock-head over the reactive hood of your clit, poking and tapping at your softness as you moan out his name— making him laugh at you sweetly, although breathless, his chest rising, pupils dilated wide with hunger, gaze luxuriant upon your naked body.

childe knows how to handle you— until your thighs were shaking and hole spread wide as you're soaking him, ruining him and turn the harbingers usual confidence-loaded expression into a shade of something else— something almost frightening.

"you want it? you want my cock, hm?" he fists himself in front of you, pushing in deep through the small tunnel in his palm as you whine out for him in desperation, "yes baby, please, i want to feel you,"

ajax laughs, humming in approval at the choice of words in your answer, "i know you do, baby, there you go then," as he towers proudly against your skin, his handsome face all twisted and menacing on top of you as he inserts the head slowly.

"feel my tip, right there," he continues and groans when your hole flawlessly forms around him, rasping harshly inside his throat, "you're so wet, fuck, ’m gonna slide in really easy, aren't i?"

this is good, this is so fucking good— archons, childe believes he must be in heaven right now.

you're just so warm, so soft and wet, how was he supposed to let alone breathe when you're taking him so well?

he grumbles lowly, starting to press his cock into you as he digs his fingers into your hips before testing the waters, rolling his hips a little faster, then alternating between fast and slow to find the best rhythm for the both of you. afresh— he pulls a long, shaky moan from past your swollen lips when he finds your sore spots, your skin pressing and slapping together in a delirious tempo and pitches of rapture.

"let me take care of you, i got this," you clutch on to him tenderly and nod your head, your spit filthily pooling at your throat as childe tenderly kisses your temple, "don't hurt your sweet, little head over this, leave it to me, yeah? fuck baby, okay...okay, i'm gonna— fuck you're so tight,"

his thrusts turn more impatient and uneven, although the heaviness was still unmatched as your walls were grabbing him, pulling him in deeper, your hips instinctively rutting up into his to feel more and more, just fucking more, "fuck, i'm gonna make you feel so good tonight,"

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

ayato's cheeks, jaw and eyes were illuminated by the sight of your body pulled underneath his own— and his cock was oozing of clear pre, his hand rubbing over his solid erection until the sticky semen dribbles down the crook of your thigh.

in any remembered previous night, ayato had always been very much into foreplay, well, only if his frustration levels were on the lower side. in terms of now, he cannot be bothered to focus on his train of thoughts when all the blood was stored in his rock-hard cock thudding heavily and hurting him.

it's so painful— but watching your pussy being empty and not full of his cock was even more distressing.

he slaps his tip over your hole before sheathing himself up with you, his eyebrows lasciviously quirked at you, "all the way in, love, i'm going all the way in," he began to pull his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration, your eyes glazed over as he watches you writhe beneath him the moment he inserts himself.

you gasp audibly, your body tensing and nerves freezing at the solid press on your hole before your back instinctively arches into his defined chest.

"oh you feel too damn good, fuck, you're messing with me, aren't you?" his lips drag over your searing cheeks, drinking up your budding tears and the drool slipping from past your lips, lapping it all up with one single lick of tongue.

"you feel me there? right there," you felt his warm hand press against your stomach, an intoxicating combination of bliss and sensitivity rushing through your system as his body was near close to crushing you with his weight.

ayato was fucking ruthless, frustrated and as if it's his last time of being inside of you— no shame, no pauses, only pushing into you weightily, his balls smacking against your ass as you're feeling so satisfied when your pussy quivers around him, holding him close.

"open your legs a lil more for me, c'mon, i know you can do it" he groans and fucks into you with one sharp push and shove, "i wanna fit it all inside," before stretching and driving you towards insanity.

his tone was as focused as his expression and his stance, "you've always done it so good for me," as you squeeze the moment he says it out loud— the moment he reminds you of all the countless of times where he's left you utterly spent and full of his cum, your hole throbbing and letting it ooze out before he fucks it right back into you, turning you breathless.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[screampied]

hii i just wanted to say that your writing is SO GOOD!! i saw that your requests are open so i’d love to see a hiromi (jjk) x reader fanfic because i haven’t seen nearly enough smut fanfics of him 😔💔 would lowkey love to see soft!dom hiromi or switch!hiromi but it’s your choice 🙏🏻🙏🏻 thanks for reading this, obviously if you’re not comfy with it then feel free to ignore this req!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 hiromi talking you through your first orgasm

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom! hiromi, cowgirl, praise, overstim, mdni.

an. thank YOUUUU SM !! <3

“hey, sweetheart don’t be shy,” he murmurs against your neck. you intake a sharp breath with your arms thrown around him. he stares at you with a soft smile, brushing a thumb against your cheek before planting a wet kiss against your mouth. “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“yeah…” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his name. higuruma lowly chuckles against your ear, he’s stuffed deep inside you, and you’re barely moving your hips—you shook, feeling the bundle of nerves all throughout your body commence into a sudden electrifying surge.

albeit, he was very much patient with you.

you melted into his embrace, gradually rocking your hips, and he softly drags your waist further against him. a raspy grunt leaving his mouth before he purrs. “mhm…easy, there we go, good girl. don’t rush. just like that. lean into me, baby. i got you.”

his words warmed its way into your heart and you let off a moan from the utter thickness of his dick stretching out your walls.

despite his girth easily outlining its way inside of your pussy, it felt good. he finds it cute the way you tremble against his touch, your legs trembling above him. “h—hiromi,” you panted, your voice being a bit more whiney — the coldness of his watch material dances against your skin, and it makes you shudder in desperate rapture. “i feel it, ‘s gonna.. ‘m gonna cum.”

“you are,” he whispers, kissing the inner part of your neck. “so be a good girl and give it to me, okay? nice ‘n slow, focus on your breathing for me baby.”

your hips bucked and bucked against higuruma in free will. eyes rolling, nearly drooling. you don’t think you’ve ever experienced a feeling like this. intimate, sure but you’ve always found it hard to please yourself. let alone find it embarrassing to even think of touching yourself.

alas, the moment you asked your lover, higuruma.. he was more than happy to comply. he wanted you to feel good, and that you were.

your mouth tasted a bit salty, and your nails dug into the thick fabric of his lazily half-on tux. higuruma smelt enchanting.

his cologne was just something you could never get enough of. the way he softly ghosts his fingertips against your bare ass.

so soft, it tickled for a brief moment before he brings his fingers towards your waist, outlining your curves — in his eyes, you were nothing more than a perfect girl to him.

“such a pretty body,” he utters, a groan nearly slipping past his lips. your head remained hidden into the side of his neck, gingerly nipping against his skin and he chuckles. “—and an even more playful girl.”

“hiromi, it feels— feels…”

you whimper, languidly leaning into his touch. each time your words got cut off by the sensations of your own cunt, your mind went fuzzy.

you could barely comprehend anything. buried into the hilt, he’s sinking into you with such gentle yet full throttle. “i know, baby. i feel it too. you’re getting me all…sensitive myself.”

his words made you throb, the way he’d pitch his voice and give you a teasing grin — you studied his facial expressions.

his pretty hooked nose that you’d kiss all over, the small dimples stretching near the corners of his lips unintentionally whenever he spoke a sentence. it always went on, higuruma treated you like a doll.

“just let go for me, princess. don’t gotta be shy to get a little filthy around me.” he whispers, kissing near the outer lobe of your ear.

you left off a soft moan against his ear, and the hairs beneath his neck stood up just from your voice. you felt your thigh start to shake just a bit as you steadily rutted your hips against him again and again and again. “oh, what—? you tryin' to give me a kiss, baby?”

he chuckles, watching you tilt your face forward, just missing his lips due to your eyes closed and he smiles. “come here, princess.”

you moaned into his mouth, swathing your arms around him and his lips curve into a warm smile. you tasted sweet…

indescribable yet entirely sugary. higuruma’s tongue grazes against your own before you started to jolt and shake, feeling it. he runs a hand down your back to soothe you before you’re cumming, whining.

higuruma shushes you, parting your legs for a brief moment before uttering once he moves his lips away.

“i know, i know. relax,” and he presses you against his chest to kiss your forehead. “good girl. such a good pretty girl,” and he softly strokes the back of your head — dick still twitching inside of you. you’re murmuring inaudible nothings of straight babbles and he smiles to himself. “that was just one orgasm, i wonder how’d you be if i pull another one out of you, princess.”

[mariasont]

Okay so we need a smut with the reader coming home from a stressful day, and Aaron runs the reader a bath with candles and flowers maybe. After a couple minutes in the bath he comes in and has other ways of relieving your stress👀👀👀 slipping his hand under the water. Ya know the drill from there

Please girl I’m dying for this

Let Me Take Care Of You - A.H

a/n: ngl i was sweating writing this... i also feel like i haven't written smut in ten years so this is probably TERRIBLE but alas

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI 18+ smutty smut, fingering, hotch talking you through, hotch being obsessed with you

wc: 2.1k

You felt like your body was moving on autopilot as you climbed the front steps, stress pouring into your shoulders like an unwelcome visitor who decided to follow you home. The day had been particularly brutal—hours spent locked in a conference room with Reid, revisiting gruesome details until the lines between work and emotion blurred and you were no closer to making progress than you were when you started. By the time you finally decided to call it a night, exhaustion had settled in every inch of you, dragging your mood down like quicksand.

You could feel it in the ache in your feet, the tension clinging to your neck, and the sluggish way your hand fumbled to unlock the front door.

Inside, you noticed the glow of the table lamp first, and as you stepped through the threshold, your eyes immediately found him. The tension in your chest loosened.

He sat with one ankle casually resting over his knee, a case file spread out across his lap. Aaron's tie had been discarded, and his shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing the hollow of his throat and the crisp undershirt peeking through. His jaw was set in concentration, brows furrowed, but when he heard you shut the door, his head lifted.

For a moment, he just looked at you, dark eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail—the slump of your shoulders, the crease between your brows, the way you were clutching your bag strap too tightly. He didn't say anything at first, just closed the file and set it aside.

When he stood, his gaze softened, and the hard lines of his face gave way to something much gentler.

"Hey," he said quietly. He crossed the room in a few long strides, hands sliding up your arms as he searched your eyes. "Long day?"

He was already reaching for your bag, his other hand brushing over your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You let out a heavy sigh, leaning into him without realizing. "Yes."

Aaron's hand reached for your cheek again, this time brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch light as if you might shatter under too much pressure. There was no rush to his movements, no urgency—just a deliberate care that made your chest ache.

"Come here," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper as he placed a hand on your shoulder and guided you to the couch.

You sank into the cushions, but Aaron didn't stop there. He kneeled in front of you, gently taking your shoes off one by one and setting them aside. His hands lingered briefly on your ankles before he moved to sit beside you, opening his arms in invitation.

Without hesitation, you leaned into him, your head finding the crook of his neck, body molding into his. His arm curled around your waist while the other rested against the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing your temple.

"I saw the notes from today," he murmured, his lips close to your hair. "Rough case."

You hummed in acknowledgment, too drained to offer more than a soft yeah.

"Reid run you ragged?"

You gave a half-hearted laugh in agreement.

His hand shifted, brushing your arm as he let out a quiet chuckle. "Figured as much."

He just let you sit there, pressed against him, your breathing evening out as the tension in your shoulders began to melt. It wasn't until he pressed a kiss to your hair and spoke again that you realized you were moments away from sleep.

"I drew you a bath."

Your head tilted up to meet his gaze. "What?"

His smiled faintly, his hand dropping to yours and lacing your fingers together.

"A bath," he repeated, standing and pulling you with him. "Come on, let me take care of you."

He led you down the hall, but when you stepped into the bathroom, your breath hitched. There was a soft glow of candles reflected in the steaming tub of water, delicate rose petals floating on the surface.

"Aaron," you whispered, voice trembling as you turned to him.

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands.

"You needed it," he said simply as if that were the only explanation he needed to give.

Stepping forward, you kissed him softly, but to you it wasn't just a kiss; it was everything you couldn't say, it was gratitude, it was affection all wrapped into one simple motion.

When you pulled back he worked your clothes off piece by piece, careful not to disturb the fragile peace that was settling over you. He knelt again to ease off your pants, his hands brushing against your thighs and calves as he worked them free. 

Once you were undressed, he stepped back, eyes never leaving you. "Get in."

You followed his instruction, lowering yourself in, the heat of the water seeming to seep into your muscles. Aaron leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your damp shoulder.

"My poor, pretty girl," he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

The words seemed to wrap around you like a ribbon, sending a shiver down your spine despite the heat of the water. Goosebumps rose across your arms, and you felt your body sink even deeper in the water.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his eye. "Aaron."

You weren't sure what you were asking for.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, his hand trailing lazily down your arm and under the water to rest just above your breast, tracing circles on the vast area of your collarbones.

"You're so tired, sweetheart. I can see it all over you." He tilted his head, his fingers moving to rest dangerously close to your nipple. "Why don't you let me help you relax a little more?"

Your answer came quickly, almost breathlessly. "Okay."

The word slipped out so easily you didn't even realize you said it at first.

"That was fast," he teased, his voice dipping low. "You're so easy to take care of when you're like this. Makes me wish you'd let me spoil you more often."

Your head lolled slightly again to the edge of the tub.

"I let you take care of me," you murmured, your words slurring slightly. "I love when you take care of me, Aaron."

His hand stilled for a moment, and you could almost hear the shift in his energy, the smirk against your ear.

"Is that right?"

The sudden pinch to your nipple made you gasp, your breath catching as your body arched slightly under the water.

You could only manage a soft whimper in response, your body too pliant and relaxed to conjure up anything more coherent.

"That's what I thought," he murmured, his lips grazing the side of your jaw. "Just relax, sweetheart. Let me take care of everything."

His hands moved again, trailing down your side under the water, his fingers brushing over your hip with a torturous slowness that left your whole body aching.

When you turned your head towards him, your lips parted, and you gave him a look half-lidded with exhaustion and want. He let out a soft laugh, his hand sliding up to cradle your chin, tilting your face up toward him.

"You want me to kiss you?"

"Yes," you whispered, the word barely audible.

He didn't hesitate. His lips crashed against yours, his kiss deep and all-consuming. His tongue swept into your mouth exploring with an intensity that made you feel dizzy. His free hand moved under the water, skimming your thigh, but the kiss left you so breathless you hardly noticed the shift.

Your own hand moved instinctively, slipping under the water toward your clit, desperate to relieve the burning ache. But before you could make contact, Aaron pulled back abruptly, leaving you gasping for air.

His hand caught your wrist under the water, his grip firm but not harsh. "What did I just say, baby?"

You blinked up at him, your lips swollen and breath uneven. "I just—,"

He cut you off with a soft kiss, his lips mumbling into yours. "I told you to let me take care of everything. No touching. That's my job tonight."

Your lips trembled as you let out a soft, needy whimper, body arching into where his hand clasped around your wrist.

"Okay," you whispered. "I promise, I won't. Just—please, Aaron."

His eyes gleamed in satisfaction, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That's my girl."

He released your wrist, his thumb finding your clit with unerring precision, pressing against it just enough to make your body shudder before he began tracing slow circles.

"There we go," Aaron murmured, his voice soft and reassuring as if coaxing you into complete surrender. "Just relax for me, baby."

A soft gasp fell from your lips, your head tilting back as the tension in your body started to unravel in waves. Each motion of his thumb sent sparks of pleasure through you.

You whimpered again, reaching back blindly, desperate to feel more of him. When your fingers brushed against his arm, he chuckled softly.

"Looking for me?" he teased, his free hand momentarily pausing as he caught yours. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the knuckles as you writhed against him. "I'm right here, sweetheart. I've got you."

Your body trembled at his words, your legs tensing slightly as the sensation built, his thumb moving in maddeningly perfect circles.

"You're doing so good for me. Just let go. Let me make it better."

It was like he knew your body better than you, the heat in your core growing with each circle, your breaths quicker, your lips trembling as soft moans escaped you.

Then, without warning, he slipped a finger inside you, the sudden fullness drawing a weak cry from your lips. Your back arched, pressing your body closer to him, the overwhelming sensation leaving you a mess in his grasp.

"There we go," he said. "That's what you needed, isn't it?"

Your answer came out more as a desperate whimper, melting into his touch. His thumb didn't stop, now perfectly synched with the deliberate thrust of his finger inside you. The combination made your mind go hazy, the words on your lips coming out as half-coherent whimpers and moans.

"You're so beautiful like this." He kissed along the curve of your neck, his lips trailing your jaw. "So perfect, just for me."

When he added a second finger, your hips bucked against his hand, the stretch sending another tidal wave of pleasure over you. A strangled gasp escaped your lips, your body completely at his mercy as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"You're doing so good for me." His free hand squeezed the one in his, kissing your knuckles again, lips lingering there before returning to your neck. "Just a little more, baby. You're almost there."

The tension in your body coiled tighter, the heat building unbearably, until finally, the wave of pressure crested, crashing over you and through you and in you with an intensity that had you blubbering Aaron's name over and over. Your body trembled violently as you came undone. Aaron's fingers never faltered, thumb slowing but continuing to draw every last bit of pleasure from you.

You slumped against the tub, your breaths coming in slow, uneven waves as the remnants of your orgasm rippled through you. Your mind felt delightfully blank, exhaustion and satisfaction leaving you too dazed to move.

Aaron chuckled, pressing one last kiss to your temple before his hands left your body, leaving you momentarily adrift. "Stay right there."

He reached for a soft washcloth, dipping it down over your arms. The cloth skimmed over your chest, along your legs, as though he were attempting to wash away every last ounce of tension you might have left.

You hummed softly, head lolling back into his touch.

"Aaron," you mumbled, though you weren't quite sure what you were trying to say.

"I'm right here."

He lifted you gently, the water trickling down your skin as he wrapped you in a soft towel. His hands moved carefully, drying you off like you were made of porcelain.

"Let's get you into bed," he said softly, guiding you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

He slipped a soft, oversized shirt over your head, his hands brushing against your skin as he worked. Once you were settled under the covers he pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving to dress in his own pajamas before sliding into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"How are you feeling now, huh?"

"Like I'm floating." You giggled softly, the sound light and carefree as you nuzzled into his chest. "I don't think I've ever felt this good."

"Good. That's exactly what I wanted."

Your smile widened as you snuggled closer, a deep sense of contentment settling over you. For the first time today, everything felt perfect.

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[skyrigel]

Tell me again [ AB ]

Pairing ~ Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Plot ~ after a long day at work, Anthony tells you how much he missed his wife <3

Warning: pregnant!reader, little teasing, shy!reader

Words : 0.8k

My other fic

Anthony bridgerton angst

" I thought you would be asleep..." Anthony murmured, words soft as melody spelled in the dark, hands crossed around his chest, his cuffs rolled up like usual after every tired night in his office, he smiled at you, a glint in his eyes.

" Why would I ? " I would wait for you at the worlds end, You turned to look at your husband, after a hard day, his eyes looked so tired and yet, they were sparkling, always when it was you.

" Oh my dearest wife." He moaned as he crossed the distance in two long strides, wrapping his hands around your waist all the while dropping to his knees,

"I missed you so much baby." He said, kissing your baby bump gently as he looked up with stars in his eyes.

" You didn't miss me Anthony ?! " You fake gasped, watching the slow chuckle make its way through the rings of his cartilage as he plucked the book you were holding.

" Oh you have no idea ! " He growled, taking both your hands in his and guiding them to his face, his eyes shutting as your fingers traced the face you adored so much, he hummed in response, kissing the soft skin of your wrist as watched you, one knuckle at a time, eyes never leaving yours.

" you think I haven't missed you ? " His asked, almost blazing, " you? " He said again, " There wasn't a moment when my soul didn't want to crawl and come to you, not a moment when i wanted to be anywhere but in your arms love." He squeezed your hand gently as you smiled, because you knew, knew how much he loved you.

" Have i told you how much I love your hands ? " He traced the lightening like green nerves that made it ways across your skin, he loved every bit of you, body, soul, mind and heart.

" You haven't," you replied, feeling your breath knocked out, heart punching against your ribs.

Anthony's lip quirked at your dazed eyes, he loved every and each version of you but he so much adored when you made your needs known, how much Anthony loved giving you what you wanted, you just have to say it for me, my sweet love, he had told you.

" This," Anthony said, his lips grazing at the slight raise of vein of your wrist, following it upto the crook of your arm, smiling in triumph as a strangled noise made it's way out of your throat.

" You like it ? " He tilted his head, brows raised in question, " mmm" you hummed softly but being the Viscount and smug bastard lord bridgerton was, he smirked.

" Say it in words my lady." He gazed up, you gave him one eye roll but opened your mouth anyway, " I do." You said ans Anthony resumed his venturing.

" And I have told you how much I love your collarbones ? " He hummed, planting open mouthed kisses all way to to dip of your neck, his breath lingered like a tattooed kiss, you dropped your head back on the couch as Anthony nipped at the raw skin of your neck.

You felt his smile the way his teeth tore into your flesh, his hand soothing your belly in circular patterns, the other cupping your breast and kneading it with all the time in the world, " You aren't telling me." He complaint, mouth fixed several inches away from yours as he looked deeply into yours eyes, your breath were uneven as you whined at the lack of lips on you, he understood and caressed your cheeks, leaning until a thread of wind was between you, you waited for touch to burn you, waited for his lips to crash into yours but alas!

" An..thony " you whimpered and he shaked his head, mouthing a small, No.

" You haven't " you whispered, closing the inches as his mouth pressed against yours in warm fuzzy music, like everything the poets talked about, Anthony smiled as pulled for a second away, his eyes peicring yours, mischief dangling through the corners and oh, how much you loved this man.

" I think I have..." He trailed, nose nuzzling at the dark reds and blues of your neck, he loved his little vicious games, loved to tease you, loved to drive you crazy.

" You have." You told him, " Tell me again."

That was all Anthony needed to you tell you again, and again and again, how much he loved you.

Rigel's note🪩: This has been in my drafts for so long<3

[logansdoll]

37

the fate of the entire world came down to a race against time, the future of all mutants resting on logan's shoulders... but a little detour wouldn't hurt, right?

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan was kind of an ass, reader is kinda that girl, angst if you squint, idk if i timed the timeline right or not so whatevs, etc.

"I'm sorry... what are we doing here, again?" Hank asked, confused, as the three men marched through the hallway of an apartment complex.

"I need to find someone," Logan answered, curtly, eyes scanning over the numbers on each door.

'37... 37... 37...'

Charles let out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose, "See, that's so funny because last I checked you said we were in a crunch for time."

He stopped in his tracks, Hank pausing mid-walk to turn to him, while Logan came to a standstill just ahead.

"If we have time to take detours, then I'm starting to believe the situation isn't as dire as you described."

Hank swallowed thickly, turning to Logan in expectation of some sort of blowout.

Despite having only known the man for a few of hours, he could tell he had a dangerously short fuse, and wouldn't take kindly to Charles's attitude.

And he'd be right.

Whipping around, Logan stormed over and grabbed the telepath by the collar, brows furrowed as he roughly yanked him closer.

"I just got sent back in the past fifty-fucking-years... And before I do another goddamn thing, there is someone I have to see," he growled, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Do you got a problem with that, bub?"

Charles paused a moment, eyes scanning over the man before him.

In that instant, he wanted nothing more than to read his mind—to see what was going on in that complicated head of his.

But, alas, he couldn't, so for the sake of everyone, he settled for the safer option.

"Fine with me," he raised his hands in surrender, letting out a sigh as Logan abruptly let him go, turning to go back to his search. "And if I'm not mistaken... thirty-seven would be about five doors down to your right."

Logan glanced back at him, his expression a cross between annoyed and less annoyed.

He'd deal with him later.

But in the meantime, he sped past the next five doors as fast as he could, turning to his right to see what played the setting to some of his best dreams.

A red door, with paint chipping near the hinges, and a crooked 37 and poorly covered claw marks from when he stumbled in drunk one night.

'Just like I left it...'

It wasn't long before the memories came rolling back, reminding him of what he was coming back to.

"You sure you have to go?" you hummed, gathering the sheets to cover your chest and sitting up in the bed, watching as he put on some pants.

Logan nodded, moving to grab his wife-beater, "Yeah, I got some things to take care of... I should be back in a few days."

Turning toward the bed, he smirked at your sleepy form, your bed-head and tired eyes insanely sexy.

"You know what to do while I'm gone, right?"

"Check the peephole before I open, and aim for the nuts," you recited with a yawn.

He smiled, snatching his leather jacket off your chair before striding toward the bed, placing a quick peck on your lips

"I'll be back soon," he promised, swiping a stray stand of hair out your face.

You smiled, looking up at him through your lashes with your beautiful, (e/c) eyes, "I'll be waiting."

When Logan snapped himself out of it, he was still standing in front of the door, the chunk of wood the only thing keeping you two apart.

He was about to knock, but stopped mid-way, hesitant.

What if you'd moved on? Forgotten him in the meantime...

"I'll be waiting," your words echoed in his head.

He sighed, steeling his nerves, before quickly knocking.

There was a moment of silence before the lock clicked, the knob turning and door swinging open to reveal you.

The air caught in Logan's throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

'That was too quick...'

"You didn't check the peephole," he stated, unable to come up with anything else to say.

Without warning, the sound of a particularly harsh slap echoed throughout the hallway, Charles and Hank flinching at the noise.

"Okay, I deserve that."

"You absolute fucking asshole!" you spat, voice disbelieving of the sight in front of you. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Because of your mutation you aged like he did, so you weren't exactly younger looking per se, but you had a youthful vibrance to you.

Your hair was sensually tousled—most likely from just waking up—your skin glowing in the mid-morning sunlight, and your silk robe coming up extra high on your legs, along with hanging extra low on your chest.

You looked sexier than any lingerie model out there.

A fact the other two quite agreed with at the moment.

"Hel-lo," Charles smiled, shamelessly, Hank just silently staring.

"Watch it," Logan threatened, venom dripping from his tone as he shifted to stand in front of you, blocking your body from their view.

"You have no business being here," your brows furrowed as you grabbed the door, attempting to shut it. "Get lost."

"(n/n), I came to see you," Logan grunted, shoving his foot between the door and the frame. "Let me in."

"No!" you scoffed, pushing against the door to try and shut him out. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to leave for eight months and then waltz right back in my life like nothing happened!"

"I got into some shit, alright? Some really bad shit... I couldn't bring that back here."

"Then call! Or... Or write! Fuck! I would've been happy with a goddamn carrier pigeon!"

"I didn't have any of that crap—" "For eight months?!"

With a groan, he rolled his shoulder, giving the door a quick blow and knocking it open, forcing you back and allowing him in.

Quickly, you reached your hand out toward your philodendron, sprouting large vines and using them to grab Logan's wrists, holding him in place.

"(y/n), I don't have a lotta time," he grunted, struggling against their hold, to no avail, "Let me go..."

"For eight months," you started, voice small as you approached him, "I thought you were dead."

Logan halted his thrashing, turning to you with a softened look.

Your expression was now one of hurt rather than rage.

"I know the work you do... and after three months of nothing I started thinking the worst..."

You stopped in front of him, turning to the large array of plants carefully placed around the room, making the apartment look more like a greenhouse than anything.

"I used every damn plant in my range to try and find you... and when I got nothing, I knew that you were gone."

Suddenly, you poked a finger into his chest, eyes glazed with relief as you looked upon his face.

A face you'd never thought you'd see again.

"So no... you do not get to come back after all this time just to see me."

Slowly, your hold on his wrists began to loosen, and he lowered his hands, stepping forward to stand right in your space.

"You're a selfish... narcissistic... cocky son of a bitch, and—"

Logan suddenly snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"And?"

You swallowed thickly, staring up at him with your glassy, doe eyes.

"And I hate you."

He chuckled, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"I love you, too, dollface."

And before you could even retort, his lips were on yours, roping you right back into him.

The kiss was hungry... passionate. Like he'd been waiting a lifetime to get his hands on you again.

And he had.

Never in his wildest dreams did Logan ever believe he'd be able to kiss you again... to have you in his arms.

It was worth the detour and more.

Honestly, even if he didn't manage to save the world, he'd die a happy man.

With a gasp, you both broke away from the kiss, your chest heaving as you looked up at the man—who was looking down at you like you'd just hung the sun in the sky.

Slowly, his calloused hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

"(n/n)... I'm gonna tell you some instructions, and you gotta trust me and follow them to the letter,, alright?" Logan started, seriously.

"What? Logan, what are you—?"

"Please," he pleaded. "I know you don't deserve the shit I put you through, but believe me when I tell you that you need to listen to what I have to say..."

Letting out a slow sigh, you agreed, nodding for him to continue.

"In a month, I want you to pack up your things. Your cloths, your plants, all of it, and travel up to Westchester County, New York," he explained, pulling a crumpled card out his jacket pocket. "Go to this address, and you'll find these guys."

He turned to point at Charles and Hank, who were still standing in the doorway, awkwardly.

"Hello," Hank waved, sweetly.

"They have a huge mansion... and you gotta stay there until I can find my way back."

"Find your way back?" you asked, confused, as you took the card from his hand. "Logan, I don't understand... I don't even know who these guys are..."

"You just have to trust me, doll," he assured, his free hand carding through your hair. "Besides, I don't like you bein' in the city by yourself, anyway—" "We really should be going now," Charles chimed, clearing his throat.

Logan let out a sigh, turning back to you and scanning over your face a final time.

God, you were so beautiful.

"Wait for me a little longer?" he asked, nervous.

But to his surprise, you smiled, your hand sliding down to hold his, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles.

"Against my better judgement..." you sighed, lightheartedly. "You better come back to me, Logan."

He cracked a grin, placing a feather-light kiss on your hairline.

"I always do."

bonus !! The three men didn't even make it halfway down the hallway before Logan turned to the two, his hardened expression a complete contrast from the smile he flashed you before he left.

"Listen up," he started, voice dangerously low. "Either of you try to make moves on my girl while I'm gone, I will personally come back and mount your head on a spike. Consequences be damned."

Quickly, Charles used what little power he had to scan over Logan's mind, checking to see if he truly meant what he said.

And he did.

In fact, he was so dead serious about the threat that it actually scared Charles quite a bit.

"Got it?"

Charles and Hank turned to each other, sharing the same knowing look.

"Yup."

"Absolutely."

[1-800-adore-me]

˖ ࣪⭑ Playing House with Zayne and Caleb🍳

Thinking about Caleb, Zayne, and MC in their childhood playing house together. Zayne as the Dad, you as the Mom, and Caleb… as the family dog. 

When Caleb was assigned to be the dog in the play scenario, it would be an understatement that he was distraught by it, especially since you assigned Zayne to be the dad while you were the mom. He tried to change the roles - asking if he could be your neighbor or the mailman but alas, you stubbornly insisted that he should be the dog. After all, he fit the criteria of being one. He was loyal, playful, and always seemed to follow you around. Who else could be fit to be the family’s furry member?

At first, he tried to play along until he felt too felt out when he was sitting on the floor, watching you and Zayne have dinner together as the two of you cut into your plated toy foods. The way you two naturally had a conversation about bills and rent made him irritated. - “I’m supposed to be sitting where Zayne is.” - He’d think. He’d pout and stick around since it made you happy that he was playing along but he was always in a bad mood. 

However, when you finally paid attention to him and ordered him to give you paw, the sparkles in your eyes could never be outshined by anything else. He was blinded by how happy you looked as you pet him, offered him encouraging praises, and even rubbed his belly through his clothing. That’s when it hit him - he received so much of your dear attention as he continued playing this dog role. 

So he decided to take advantage of this. Whenever he felt like Zayne was getting too much attention from you, he’d rolled over on his back and whine. Whenever you praised him, he would give you cuddles and big hugs, enveloping your small body with his bigger one. After completing an order from you, he would beg for headpats until you messed up his hair. At one point, he even nuzzled against your cheek when you called him a good boy.

One day, Zayn came back from work and let out a heavy sigh. You turned your head towards him as you asked him how his day was. “The hospital was busy. I was curing cancer and I just wanted to come back home to you, honey.” 

Immediately, Caleb rolled onto his back and whined. Your attention was then given to the poor puppy as you rushed over to him. - “What happened, puppy? Are you okay?” - You’d ask in your small voice as you kneeled next to him and stroked his head. You could practically see his imaginary dog tail wagging by now.

He gave a sad face and said that he was feeling lonely. In response, you gave him a big hug and nuzzled his face, reassuring him that you wouldn’t abandon him and that you loved how good of a dog he was. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck as his eyes shot daggers at Zayne, who was properly confused and sickened by Caleb’s behavior. Zayne had an eyebrow raise as he was slowly cutting into his toy steak with the plastic knife, finally clearing his throat. 

“Honey, you should finish your food before it gets cold. You’ve spent quite an amount of time preparing this while I was hard at work.” Zayne would say, also shooting daggers at Caleb. 

“But our puppy is feeling lonely! I didn’t give him hugs and cuddles all day while I was cleaning and cooking!” You’d cry out as you hugged the dear puppy closer to you. Caleb gave a satisfied hum as he smirked.

“Perhaps the puppy should go back to his dog house and have his dinner there then. You go ahead and eat, I’ll take him.”

“Really? That’s so sweet of you, honey!” You’d beam at your husband as you let go of Caleb and sat at the dinner table, now humming as it was finally your turn to enjoy the delicious steak dinner you’ve whipped up. 

Distracted by your house playing, you didn’t hear Caleb growl at Zayne as the boy dragged him by the collar of his shirt to behind the tree. Caleb struggled against Zayne’s hold as they wrestled with each other, glaring at each other for disturbing their moments with you. You didn’t notice how long they were gone until they came back to you with their hair messy, clothes misaligned, and dirt all over them. 

“What happened!? Oh no… Grandma is going to be so mad that Zayne is dirty now!” Your tears started to spill out of your eyes as you could already imagine the scolding from Gran - her asking what you and Caleb did to Zayne, the precious guest that should always be treated as a king in their household. 

“The puppy was defying me.”

“He was trying to kick me out.”

The two boys spoke at the same time, glaring at each other again once they realized what they said. Then, they began arguing. -”That’s only because you’re a clingy dog. You’re not even letting your owner eat her food.” - “You’re one to talk when you’re always hoggin’ her attention!”

You’ve started to think that playing house wouldn’t be a good idea anymore with Caleb and Zayne. 

[nmyphomania]

╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 12: Exhibitionism]

Summary: He appoints his closest advisors to watch him raw dog you the night of your wedding.

Warning(s): F! Reader, exhibitionism, finger sucking, snowballing?, spit as lube, oral sex (f. receiving), full nelson, doggystyle, mouth spitting, rough sex, sloppy kissing, vaginal fingering, choking, squirting, breeding but only a lil bit, cervix kissing, public bedding ceremony, handjob (f. receiving), possessive Zuko, not proofread

WC: 2.6k+

•𑁍•

Your mouths were on each other in an instant, leaving no room to waste time in front of the four political advisors in the room with the both of you. Tongues flicked out, circling the bland taste of saliva that glossed over the surfaces of pink. It was so uncomfortably hot in the room, it was hard to differentiate whether it was from you and Zuko getting busy, or if it was the intense stares from the four accompanying people inside the chamber.

Zuko licked a deep stripe up the inside of your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you still into his demanding kiss. Pressing a firm thumb against the crook of your neck, urging your head to the side, leaving hot, wet trails smacking onto the surface of porcelain skin. The way he cradled you in his arms was so dreamy it enhanced the scent of subtle arousal dancing in the air of the room.

A sudden turn in events of Zuko now bending you over the side of the mattress of the bed, growing ravenous by all passing moments of this small gathering. Leaning to hover over your form lying on the mattress below, he stared into one of the male advisors’ eyes whilst swiftly undoing the careless knot in your robes. Your clothes were immediately snatched bare from your helpless body, leaving you to yelp in surprise at the state you were now left in, now a sight for four pairs of wildly unfamiliar eyes.

“You all want to see me fuck her don’t you?”

His suggestive voice alas cut the deathly silent interior of the room, the man in particular shifted around in his breeches, swallowing thickly at his lord’s unprecedented words. Yanking at the back of the latches that fastened your bra together, it slapped back down, leaving a fleeting sting to burn on the surface of your back. He scoffed, pushing you forward with his clothed hips to spur you on the bed completely.

Of course you still wore on your undergarments, the intimate clothing clinging to your frame so endearingly, no doubt in Zuko’s mind that the other four were growing hot in their pants over you. Yeah he could be jealous and petty all he pleased, but these perverts loved tradition and were as passionate about it as anything else. You know they would never, ever, admit how hungry they were for the scene before them to unfold further, fearing their firelord’s judgemental remarks about their dignity. It’s obvious as the sun in the sky on a clear day, but he guessed he could be a little less, mean. Making work of his own clothes by sliding off his own deep red robes off of his broad shoulders, he seems over this whole situation already.

You situated the lower half of your body up in the air for him, assuming the position in front of him on the bed as he undressed. Now he was only covered up by his own pair of pants that contained his painfully hard sex, straining just behind his fly. Taking his index finger, he dragged down your underwear so damningly slow it irked you. Your clit was then sandwiched between his two rugged fingers, stroking steadily in up and down patterns. Zuko took in how very apparent you were when you would grow more and more wet for him, relishing everything that came out of your body by messily massaging your damp pussy then giving it a teasing slap.

“Already? I barely even touched you.”

Those words sent shivers of embarrassment cascading down the longevity of your back. A few breathy sighs from you being rubbed down on your core in between your thighs, leaving you to run your tongue over you lips before going to bite down on the bottom one. He placed his free hand to thumb over your other entrance as he eased his hand around to prep you for his sudden intrusion. It pressed so deliciously on the resistant ring of muscles, it sent every firm press straight down to take effect below.

Small droplets strayed away from your arousal, sounds of wet suctioning from humping along the roughness of his palm urged your eyes backward, flattening out his hand nearly drove you to insanity. Your ears were filled with cotton, even delirium whining out for him to keep going or right there. Body nearly lurching from the intensity of his palm thrusting on it repeatedly, more so perfectly wiping the top of your cunt where the most nerves seemed to reside.

Zuko gave no warning, suddenly grabbing your right shoulder, pressing you down on his experienced pointer fingers without taking any mind to your tightness. Flinging your head up only to meet the heated stares from the four men that advised your husband’s actions, a distressed noise of surprise was eased out in their direction. His fingers curled inside somehow angling accurately on the oozing spot that was the center of your pleasure. Feeling the blunt tips of his finger rutting into you with the help of his left hand levering you back into them by keeping an unwavering hold on the curve in the middle of your shoulder and neck.

Bucking back to counter the precise movements of his fingers made you squirt all over the digits and the sheets, heat flooded over the expanse of your face for growing so needy. Especially in front of the guests present in you two’s shared chamber. Swirls, turns, and spins danced in the base of your convulsing stomach, pulling yourself impossibly tighter to embrace his knuckles within the confines of your greedy pussy. Words fell amidst the chain of incoherent moans that just wouldn’t stay deep inside your chest, not even properly able to register them in the heat of the moment.

“Zuko?” You gasped out, hand flying to find his hand, in an attempt to grab onto something, or some part of his body that could be found within any means of reach. Shoving in another two digits drawed out a foul keen rooted from the depths of your diaphragm. Being so full led you to fall down back forward, pressing your face flush against the crimson sheets to drool out whatever your brain could come up with. Toes curling, body jerking away and struggling from overstimulation, pleas in every type of sound possible. Goodness you were a mess underneath him, you couldn’t even think to compose yourself to have some decorum, but Zuko made it so damn hard. On the crumbling edge of a worthy finish, your eyes snapped open, wild with desperation to find his hand and push him in deeper.

Zuko wasn’t having it, he didn’t like being rushed no matter how much you begged for something deeper or faster; he went at his own set pace. Everything he did had a reason even if he didn’t directly tell you, that’s law for everyone involved with him. Including you. He took your wrist and pinned it down on your back as a warning for moving too fast, a hum of disapproval was met with your hurried actions.

“Stay. There. Don’t get impatient.”

That low warning sent you over the edge, with him burying his digits down to the knuckle to make your finish bubble up and out of her more than stretched out opening. He smoothed his fingers out of you with a small suction noise from her walls bordering him inside securely, moving the four to grip the interior heat of her mouth. You sucked vigorously, lapping and savoring and cleaning every drop of yourself off of his digits longingly.

Easing himself down onto his knees to meet the sight of your gaping pussy from the earlier entry, he began to make out loudly, smacking his lips from kissing your worked lips, and fixating on sucking all of your cum from out of you. You moaned around his fingers, taking in the sweet wet sensation of his tongue hooking and retreating continuously between your folds. He welcomed it to drip from the capacity of his mouth, sliding down from either side of his strong jaw.

Groaning in a mix of adoration and satisfaction from the taste and sopping wet mess on his face, he’d drain everything from inside of you that spewed unashamedly, holding the fluid in his mouth for a moment. Before you could react to his finger being freed from your mouth, a slap landed on the bottom of your ass, startling the men across the room from the filthy spell the two of you put them under. Their hearts beat so hard they all thought it’d come right out of their chests, it was so heated in the room, the smell of sex already settling in their nose before even getting to the real part of all of this.

His eyes caught sight of your bra that was latched onto your body around your upper half after all this time, saliva-slicken hand going to lightly tug the fabric, prompting you to take the clothing item off. A pair of pretty, pedicured hands reached to teasingly undo the latches in a way that’ll test Zuko’s patience, a way to get back at him for not allowing her to be needy herself. They fondled with the back hooks, slowly coming undone for his prying eyes to watch over. The man decided to waste no time with you, ridding himself of his own pants to work towards a mutually pleasing moment.

The slightly taut clothes were removed from his body to fully reveal himself confidently to everyone in the room, and once all of the buckles on your bra were undid, he never snatched something off you faster in his life. In fact, he grabbed you by your neck to force you off of the bed on all fours and positioned his pulsating length just outside your gasping orifice.

Sucking in his cheeks to gather up all of her juices he drank in from her previously, Zuko leaned backwards to intricately spit out the substance over the surface of his cock to easily slip inside of you. Breeching past your loose and slicken up hole, he let a loud groan utter past his lips and into the thickened air of the chamber’s atmosphere. Both of your heaving breaths came together in sync as the both of your bodies met each other at an accelerating pace, every thrust punched out shared pants and curses of all sorts. Sweat trickled across the vastness of each other’s skin, cores burning with an urgency that was unmatched and burned a heat the couple could ever understand.

Going to rest over on his forearm on one side of her body below resting all of his weight in that one arm, he made quick use of the opposing hand to strain around her neck to pull her into a discordant kiss. His mouth nearly went dry at her clenching walls cornering him in inside, Zuko could barely conjure up a petty wad of saliva to share back into her mouth just before parting away from the kiss

Holding her up by keeping a hold on the length of her neck, he shifted impatiently to shove the crest of his dick in to hit the very middle of her stomach cruelly. Your wails wantonly hurt to cry out due to the pressure of his hands on your neck, it was so much all at once you could sob. Not much air came in through your windpipe, maybe once you’d get a good intake of air to support your noises of pure rapture. It never appeared to phase him, the raunchy roll of his hips caused one of the men on the adjacent side of the room to pass out from locking his knees in place. That didn’t seem to phase him either.

Nothing would ever take his gaze away from your red laden eyes, glittering up at him with a quiet beg for some type of mercy on your body. Those lips were parted screaming all of her thoughts, obscenities, his name. Like a chant, he didn’t want to ever stop pleasing you, making you cry, it was his motivation to continue to be your center of ecstasy. The vibrations of her strangled whines went nowhere but straight to his dick, making him twitch violently in the midst of your body he knew best. Better than the back of his hand he knew how to read you, how to ruin you just right for the entertainment of his advisors.

“You’re….you’re gorgeous. You’re all mine- I-.”

He could hardly utter the praise beyond a hoarse whisper, letting your neck loose from his crazed grip. Pulling out immediately made you exhale wholly, releasing the air that rested within your throat, you took advantage of the fact that you now could take a simple breather until he decided what else to do to you.

You were gently pulled up by your elbow, leading you to the front of the bed, enhancing the firelord’s men's view over the vulgar scene unraveling in front of them. She was pulled into his lap, face barely flushed with a red present all over her body, sweat drenched and all of her naked glory. The both of them adjusted into a rather dissolute position, his length now resting once more inside of her cunt, Zuko locked her legs back with the strength of his arms all the way until they were straddling her own upper half. Her entirety was on display to the four men, the two’s connection was undeniable and now formally presented to them.

You could barely take the situation, all of your active thoughts were drained out of you the second you started to squirt uncontrollably. The world spun dizzyingly in your head as Zuko fucked you from underneath, to spread your oozing walls all over him. A pair of soft lips you were so familiar with crashed on the side of your face and trailed down to the crook of your neck, bringing you down from the temporary high created from feeling the crest of what physical euphoria felt like.

He panted loudly at the knots pulling together tighter any time he’d throw his hips up to jolt back into her, stomach clenching hard to keep up his consistent rhythm. That jet black hair of his clung to his forehead, now damp and even mused from the work he put his body through that night.

“Mine, mine, all mine. I promised to fuck her didn’t I?” A rhetorical question restated to himself while his head craned back to display the compelling reddened flesh of his neck. Rough, and gritty his voice happened to be reduced down to, he virtually gave a half-assed whine from bottoming out in his movements just moments leading up to his overloading finish.

Losing yourself to the scent of sex and the renewed humidity of the room, you didn’t realize you and him came at the same time, him doing it so deep, coating the surroundings of his steadily softening shaft, pushing in a few more times before lowering your aching legs down to rest. They felt like complete jelly, nothing could possibly get you to stand up from the events of your honeymoon night.

One of the advisors tried to swallow down a large lump created in his throat, going to speak up in the moment of silence. He bowed for the rest of the group of men, showing his still foregoing respect towards the Firelord and wife, the now declared Firelady.

“The marriage process is now complete, congratulations to the newly wedded royal couple.”

•𑁍•

Tags:

[aquarelliwrites]

Saturdays

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader

SUMMARY: He sleeps like the dead, but at least he's pretty while doing it?

CONTENTS: Fluff, use of you/yours, no use of Y/N, entirely self-indulgent

wc: 536

A ray of sunshine in your eyes is what wakes you up.

It's one of the rare days when both Oscar and you are free of obligations. One of the rare days when you wake up before him, and get to revel a little in the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close to him; the feeling of his legs tangled with yours underneath soft blankets; the feeling of his face buried in the curve connecting your neck and shoulder, fanning it with small breaths.

You allow yourself to drift between consciousness and the abyss for a while longer.

„Osc.“ You whisper – and get no response. The man – your darling sweetheart, the light of your life, really – continues sleeping like he's a rock or perhaps a log. Repeating yourself a little more loudly gets you nothing more than a hum. „I need to get up.“

He replies this time, says something, surely, and the vibration of his voice against your skin spreads like wildfire all over your body. He is also, unfortunately, entirely incomprehensible.

„What?“ You laugh.

„What th' hell d'you need to get up for?“ The vice-like grip on you doesn't loosen as you hoped it would.

„Um, the bathroom?“

He groans and lets go of you, acting like it's the most effort he's ever had to put into any task, ever. You laugh, pressing a little kiss on his cheek before getting up.

„Oh, do that again.“ The corners of his lips tilt upwards with the plea. You can't help but oblige.

 When you return, you pause in the doorway to admire the way he managed to take up the entirety of the bed. The way his torso rises and falls rhythmically under the covers. The way his shoulders look – you could spend an eternity just gazing at the way the muscles in his back move. The way he's sleeping with his face in the crook of his elbow, hiding away from the sun.

He feels the mattress dip and moves his head ever so slightly to look at you, even if he therefore must endure the Sun's corona behind you. „S'too early, darling,“ he croaks, and you laugh softly before leaning down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades.

„You're right.“ And you lay back down with that, arm thrown over him in a looser cuddle than he had you in minutes ago. He revels in the warmth of your palm on his bare skin, in the dance of your fingertips all over his back, in the quiet that blankets you both for a little while.

„I say this too much, but I really love you,“ he whispers, mind on the edge of sleep.

„You could never say it too much. I really love you too, you know.“

„I know, you're so good to me.“ The visible part of his face is smiling again.

„Your standards are low, then,“ you tease, messing up his hair.

He looks seriously offended for a moment. Or about as offended as he can look while he drifts off. „How dare you say that about my girlfriend?“

You breathe a little laugh again, and your pointer finger draws a heart on his spine.

hey, sorry that I died for nearly 2 months? go for broke is still being worked on but I think I want to go in a slightly different direction with that than I originally thought, so that's going to be A While. alas we live i suppose

[witchesverse]

someone loved me, someone fucking loved me.

pairing: rio vidal x reader

summary: you have lost the two most important people in your life: your wife and son. so, when death visits, you need to hurt her.

content: mentions of death, crying, magic fighting, punching in the face, angst without a happy ending, bleeding, heartbreak, mention of agatha harkness x reader.

You felt when she died. It was an uncomfortable, eerily feeling; you felt alone for the first time in centuries.

You ignored the feeling. You didn't want to believe she was dead. You couldn't believe she was dead. Agatha Harkness doesn't just die.

You felt her presence before you saw her. It was a gloomy, depressing feeling; you felt desperate for the first time in centuries.

"You can't ignore me, you know," She spoke softly.

You shuddered at the sound of her voice. You hadn't heard it since he died and never wanted to hear it again. Alas, you knew you would. That stupid promise Agatha made Rio promise meant you would.

"Go away, Rio."

Her hand brushed against your arm and you flinched, pulling away from her.

"How?"

The world seemed to pause at your question. The chirping from the birds and the rustling of the trees seemingly vanished.

Rio stuttered an incoherent sentence before taking in a deep breath. "It had to be one of them, okay?"

"What?"

"The kiss of death."

A blast of magic slammed into Rio's chest and sent her flying into the wall. Tears were glistering in your eyes as you stalked towards her, magic surrounding your fingers.

You couldn't kill Death, but you sure as hell could hurt her.

"I fucking hate you." Your voice broke with emotion as you screamed at her.

Another blast of magic hit Rio when she tried to stand, forcing her back to the ground.

"You are an evil, horrible monster and I wish I never met you." You snarled. "You have caused only pain and chaos for my family. You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me."

Rio didn't reply and that only angered you.

You lifted her body and threw her out a window. The glass smashed, piercing her skin. Her body landed in the field of flowers surrounding your house.

Rio was on her feet once you got to her. She was bleeding in multiple places and her own magic surrounded her fingers.

"You don't want to do this," Rio said. "You know who will win."

"I don't need to win." You summoned another ball of magic and aimed it at her, which she dodged.

Your magic wasn't enough to hurt her. You needed to feel her blood on your skin.

You tackled her to the ground and straddled her stomach. You landed a few punches to her face before she managed to grab your wrists and stop you.

"I didn't want it to be her."

You fought in her hold. "Bullshit."

"And I didn't want it to be Nicky, either."

"Don't." You felt your heart breaking into a million pieces at the sound of his name.

The day Death took Nicholas was one of the worst. You cried and begged for her to bring him back—for your boy to come back. Agatha didn't beg, but she cried. You remember holding her in your arms, promising that it would be okay whilst Death stood over you, watching the heartbreak that she caused to happen.

"I never wanted to hurt you." She whispered. "None of you. I wanted you both to be happy."

"I hate you."

Uncontrollable tears fell down your cheeks and you gasped for air in between sobs. Rio brushed away a few tears with her thumb, smiling sadly.

That action broke you.

You wrapped your arms around Rio's neck and buried your face in the crook. She slipped her hands under your shirt and rubbed comforting circles.

"I hate you so much."

Rio hummed. She knew you did.

"She promised me that she would come home. She said that nothing bad would happen to her, but you k-killed her."

Your voice broke again. You couldn't believe those words were leaving your mouth.

"I know, baby."

You cried until you couldn't cry any longer and she held you in her arms the entire time. She kissed your face every time you expressed your hatred for her and she let you make her body bleed with your fingernails and teeth.

She wasn't going to leave. Not this time. She promised that once Agatha died, she would stay with you until your end. Even if you fought her, screamed, and hurt her. She would never leave.

And no matter how big your hatred for her was, her love for you was always 10x bigger.

[taintedbenevolence]

"𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖊." — YANDERE DAN HENG · IMBIBITOR LUNAE x FEMALE READER

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 — nsfw, short prompt 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — Not proofread! Use of profanities, non-consensual display of affection, obsessive & possessive behavior, (brief insinuations/mentions of) breeding kink. Dan Heng bites and marks reader. notation: any character participants are aged 18 and up. just for the record. I don't write sexual content for minors. please know that.

"I warned you," he huffed with mild irritation, as he thrusted himself inside of you for what seemed to be another, countless time. "Don't test me."

It was a bad enough idea when you had decided to argue, telling him that you'd find a way out, pointing out all the individual flaws of the manner in which he kept you trapped.

You'd begun to find solutions to your inescapable cage with this man, and it filled him with indignation, because he was entirely enraptured by you, and he refused to let you go. The very thought of you escaping was something he couldn't stand.

Being all alone was the last thing he needed. Break his arms and legs, but he'll cling to you like there's no one else he loves more and needs.

But seeing as how you'd decided to try and make an attempt to escape, he had zero intent to let you go now, more than ever. He pondered on just what he'd do to finally ingrain in your head somewhere that you were not going to be leaving – not anytime soon, nor any time later.

He was fine doing anything and everything to keep you by his side.

He'd pump you full of his seed, fill you up with his cum day and night, if it'd remind you that you had no one and no place to go but him and only him, that you were meant to stay with him forever. You would be his and his alone. Right?

He couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking you away from him. With all that he's gone through, he at the very least deserves this. Wouldn't you agree?

Even so, you'd grown accustomed to the feel of your wrists bound by chains and cuffs above your head, your ankles tied down similarly whilst his tail coils around your waist, holding you down in place as he pushes in and out of you.

All nice and tied up, open and ready to take whatever was going to ruin you tonight. Would it be his fingers, his tongue, or his cock this time?

It was a chilling feeling that never failed to scare you—the feeling of helplessness that the Vidyadhara always managed to incite within you. It terrified you—to be taken advantage of in such way without being able to do anything about it.

Whether his carnal instincts were led by his previous incarnation or not, you had not the slightest idea, and frankly, you didn't really want to know either. 

All you could do was stay down while he fucked your brains out. ... You should probably watch your mouth the next time you're mad.

He drinks up your mewls, your abused, puffy hole unable to handle any more, but he licks your tears away, seemingly uncaring about how you beg him to stop. In his eyes, this is a punishment. If you keep acting like this, he really won't be able to be as kind as he wishes to be.

He doesn't mean to hurt you, and if you'd let him, oh how he'd worship your body without leaving a single mark, but he can't help himself if you keep behaving yourself like a brat. Please, can't you comply at the very least once? Would it kill you to show some acceptance for him?

Maybe.

And with how many times he has cum inside you, it upsets him that you really can't be impregnated by him. It'd delight him to see your belly swollen with his baby, but alas, it's only a fantasy.

A fantasy that he can't help but try to indulge in every time he fucks you raw.

Perhaps it's a little wrong of him to enjoy how much you cry whenever he does this to you. Just maybe. Maybe. Your cheeks all red, stained with tears, pretty puffed lips all swollen because of his rough, frequent kisses — it makes his heart swell.

He loves it. He loves you.

His face is nuzzled up in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, leaving numerous red marks that most likely will stay for a long time, if not forever, his mouth moving to leave more bruises upon your skin to claim you as his own.

"Dan Heng—" You manage to moan, almost choking on your tears, feeling him push in and out with a rapidity you cannot measure. "'ts too much, 'm cumming, please, a-ah—!"

It's all too much. It hurts too much. You feel too much. Too much pain, too much pleasure, it's all mixing up and your brain by now has been reduced to mush, your words a babbling mess as you whine, whine, and whine, to a point where you don't know how you have not lost your voice.

"Mine, mine, mine, please, s' good," you hear him murmur incoherently to you, the only sound left in the area being the wet squelch, the slapping sounds of skin against skin, your unstable cries, and your sobbing along with his sweet moans as he makes love to you. "P-please, don't leave, mgh-"

Any trace of his gentle demeanor was thrown away from the moment he had you pressed on the mattress. There was only a burning need left in him.

A need only you could satiate. An obsession that would never end.

And for what he's done to you, he knows you harbor hate, but he knows it makes you feel good, so why play pretend? ♡

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

A / N - It's a little shorter than usual, sorry </3 Writer's block has been absolutely demolishing me, but I'm hanging in there, I've got a few requests which I'm almost done with rn.. Sorry for the inactivity, I'll be hopefully posting more often if I'm not too burnt-out. Getting this one out so I can finally publish the Neuvi request..

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY SIX: COCKWARMING w/ JOHN PRICE

The only thing keeping John from going mental while sorting through paperwork at his desk is the grounding feeling of your warmth engulfing him while you sit pretty on his fat cock, head nestled in the crook of his neck. You feel the heat radiating off of him in tandem with your own, and you can't help but sink deeper into his embrace. The way he hums softly in contentment as you rest against him is enough to make you weak in the knees, finding so much pleasure from such simplistic sensuality. His hands trail up and down your back, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

"Sorry, dear. Can't help it when you're squeezing me so nice." John whispers, steadying himself against his office chair to avoid riling you up too much. His beard grazes against your face as he presses an apologetic, somewhat pacifying kiss to your lips, almost thanking you for being with him in such a mundane moment.

John's office is bathed in a soft glow from the lamps on his desk, casting shadows across your half-naked bodies entwined. You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you to accommodate his size. It's dizzying how deep he is, your chest rising and falling heavily with your laboured breaths as though you can feel him in your lungs. It's perfect, this level of closeness.

His cock pulses within you in perfect sync with your heartbeat; each throb sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your cunt overly sensitive and dripping down to John's heavy balls settled beneath you. The scent of his cologne entrances your senses, the intoxicating aroma only aiding in your tranquility against John's hard chest.

As John continues working diligently while enjoying every moment of having your bodies intertwined like this, he mind wanders to the thoughts of what awaits them once he's finished. He pictures himself pulling you close, lifting you up onto the bed, and ramming himself deep inside you until neither of you can think straight. The thought alone is enough to make his cock twitch within you, his thick, leaky tip brushing against a spot that has you keening, ripping sharp gasp from you, your back arching, subsequently pushing your tits against John's chest in silent invitation for more. But he can't take it.

Despite the peace of the moment, and John's earlier orders to be a good girl and try not to squirm, as time progresses your need continues to increase. Feeling his pulsing veins pressed firmly against your insides isn't enough to satisfy the desires swirling through your mind each time you glance up to admire John's attentive expression, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes focused yet his pupils are dilated with lust. It's that drive that makes John so perfect, and you want him to be using that commitment to expertly fuck you until all you're capable of is screaming his name.

As if he knows what you're thinking, one of John's hands find their way back to your hips, gently squeezing as he begins to move within you in small, teasing motions. The sensation is almost too much to bear; the combination of his size, your tightness, and the unrelenting need between the two of you is driving him wild. All you can do is moan and shut your eyes tightly, aching to go home and get what you want.

Alas, the two of you are stuck in your own filthy brains until John's job is done. Until then, John takes solace in the feeling of having you wrapped around him, the reminder that however mundane his day might be, he always has you.

[ninikrumbs]

Invisible strings

Suguru Geto x fem!reader.

"Need something, baby?"

The tone of his voice light and indulgent as it always was, not minding the happy distraction your presence brings.

Your head peaks from the doorway, a hesitant smile on your face as you watch you boyfriend work in his home office.

Shaking your head at his questioning haze, your cross the distance between you. He smiles fondly, realizing your intention, twisting his rolling chair a bit to the side to make space for you.

"Come here, pretty girl." He says when you draw near, pulling you down to plop down on his lap, arms immediately finding a home on your waist.

His familiar warmth and smell envelopes your senses imbuing your body with the affection and comfort you always craved from him. The contented noises you let out as you snuggle in the crook of his neck makes him chuckle in amusement, his gentle fingers tracing slow comforting circles down your back. "So my girl's just needy for me?"

You hum in response, looking absolutely cozy with your eyes closed, nose nuzzling his neck as you breath him in, hands resting on his chest.

His hands teasingly wander down your back to give your bum a light squeeze, not enough to startle you from you perfect position but enough to make you grumble, "Not that kind of needy, Sugu."

With you lips right next to his neck, your breath tickles his skin. He huffs a laugh, "Oh, my bad. "

Not a hint of remorse in his voice though. His hands changes it course up to you hair, gently threading through it, making your eyes droop. You feel him press a kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin on it.

This is where you belong, you thought. At peace in his arms, away from the cruel horrors of the world even for just a moment. And your sure he shares you sentiment with how constantly he tries to shield you from the sometimes brutal realities he has to face.

If he could create a world where you would only know joy and happiness, he would. But Alas the monsters in this world constantly grow like weeds. The best he could do was to make sure they could never get to you. Not in this life or the next.

He hears you whisper his name and mumbling something he incoherent.

"What was that?"

"I said I feel bad for a version of me out there who doesn't have you."

He pulls away just a bit to look at your face, he wonders where you get such sudden and weird ideas yet he humors you regardless, "You don't have to worry your pretty little head about it."

"Why not?"

"Because," He raises your palm to his lips, placing a kiss filled with devotion, "I refuse to believe that there's a world where I don't have you. Any version of me won't allow it."

He says it with such conviction that it sounded like a fact, not an opinion or a thought and it makes you want to believe him.

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, you press youself flush against him once more, finding solace in his words and the beating heart underneath your hands.

"Now sleep, I'll wake you up once im done working some we can eat dinner together."

Your eyes flutter shut again and you fall asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart.

The next time you open your eyes it was to the dark cold ceiling of your room. Your hands reach to the side -searching, hpong, wishing-heart dropping as you merely felt the bitter emptiness of your comforter.

Sitting up on your bed, you look out of your window. The city lights blurred as hot tears clouded you vision. They fall rapidly down your cheeks, faster than you could wipe them away with your fists. Your throat clogging up with such gut wrenching emotion, barely holding back you sobs.

Your lips tremble, smiling bitterly, memories of another life running at back of your head, "Youre such a liar, Suguru.."

part 2

Happy Part 2?

AN : To those who have read this, yes this is a repost. Im just doing an experiment. :)

[world-of-aus]

Still In the Frame

Pairing: Hockey Player!Bucky x Sports Photographer!Reader

Warning: a pinch of fluff, pinch of angst, a hefty dose of Bucky Barnes.

Author's Note: It's been such a long time since I've written and I fear i may be in over my head here. But alas I will not back down I am getting this story out! i hope you all enjoy this first part, back to my dark cave i goooo!

The doors to TD Garden had opened nearly two hours ago, but you had been here long before that mentally preparing yourself for the adrenaline the night would bring. 

Hoisting your gear bag over your shoulder you move through the arena, tapping your badge against the security scanner, weaving your way through the tunnels that once upon a time had felt too big, too loud, too unreal for a dreamer like yourself. But you had fought to build your name in this industry, long nights of hard work finally earning you a place with the Boston Bruins as their official sports photographer.  

 A second home. 

Dropping your bag behind the rink side media table you unzipped it with practiced ease, laying out your lenses, checking your batteries, running through the quiet rhythm of getting ready.  

Your own pre-game ritual. 

“Hey y/n, I know this is your thing by now but you know you get here early right, you could at least wait until the players are out on the ice warming it up before you show up.” Mark one of the newer videographers was tangled in a cable of wires behind the media table a crooked grin on his lips as he paused his work to watch you set up. “Are you really that afraid you’ll miss the puck drop if you don’t check every setting seven times? It’s you, you never miss” 

You shake your head, smile pulling at your lips as you adjust the strap of your camera around your neck. “While you’re right that I never miss, I also can’t help that I’m thorough Mark, I am a professional. Unlike some people.” you tease. 

He mock-gasps, eyes rolling, Mark was as professional as they came when it came to the wiring of the media board, but if he was going to dish it, he could certainly take it. “Rude,” he huffs, “you just happened to catch me at a bad moment.” 

You didn’t answer, instead lifting your camera and aiming it right at him. Click. He groaned head thrown back. “Now I caught you,” you grin flashing him the display. 

“Oh God y/n delete that, save that film for the players,” he murmurs ducking out of frame to tend to his tangled wires before you can get another shot of him. 

Chuckling to yourself you turn to the ice surveying what will be the background of many of your shots tonight. The arena is glimmering in the warmth of a dozen overhead lights, a Zamboni humming in the distance, stands beginning to fill with anxious fans. While you loved the game, this was the part you loved the most, the calm before the chaos, the quiet just before the thunder of the crowd.  

The calm however was short lived as players began to file onto the ice, like the fans filled the stands. 

Warmup. 

Warmups passed as they always do; in a blur of skates and sticks, high-speed passes, and the clang of a puck against the post. And you captured it all without a second thought tracking the motion through your viewfinder, framing the pre-game like a dance you knew by heart, and you knew it well.  But it was when the players cleared the ice, the lights falling dim for the player introductions that something in the atmosphere began to shift as it always did.

 The announcer’s voice was loud, matching the energy of the arena as his voice boomed over the speakers, the crowd swelling with anticipation as the players' names echoed off the crowded walls. 

“Number 88, Steve Rogers!” 

 

 “Number 63, Sam Wilson!” 

  

“And now, making his official debut with the Boston Bruins -” 

Your camera slipped from your fingers, breath catching in your throat as you took in the image that flashed on the screen above the ice. It couldn't be. 

“Number 14 - Bucky Barnes!” 

Time didn’t just slow - it shattered. 

Your ears rang, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. The roar of the crowd turning hollow, as if your head had been dunked in a tank of ice water, his name spinning in your head, once, twice, like a puck skimming ice - then sinking deep and fast. 

Bucky. 

You hadn’t heard his name aloud in over four years. Not in person. Not like this. 

Your stomach dropped as you gripped the camera like it might anchor you, like the weight of it could hold you still while your world suddenly tipped. 

Four years had apparently not been long enough to convince yourself it hadn’t meant a thing.  

And then he was there; in person stepping onto the ice like he owned it, his stride smooth and familiar. Your brain refused to catch up. It can't be.

And just then, like something cosmic twisted the moment tighter, his eyes found yours. 

Bucky Barnes, four years gone, looked across the rink and found you like he’d known exactly where you’d be. 

The world vanished in a moment. 

Only the ice that separated the two of you remained. 

You should’ve looked away then. Should’ve focused on your job, the game, literally anything else. But you didn’t. Couldn’t. Bucky’s gaze was locked on yours, steady and unflinching, and for the first time in years you forgot how to breathe. The arena came to life around you; players skating, music pounding, lights flashing, but in that single breath of time, none of it mattered. It was just him, you, and the ghost of a promise that still echoed louder than the roar of the crowd. 

Don’t forget me when it happens. 

I couldn’t if I tried. 

You took this time to study him, he looked different now than he did all those years ago. He was sharper around the edges, jaw more defined, shoulders bulked from years in the league. But his eyes, his eyes were the same; ice blue and intense, soft around the corners like he still carried pieces of a boy who used to skate backwards just to make you laugh. 

Click. 

Turning as quickly as you had snapped the photo, you let the camera drop to your chest pretending to mess with your gear, pretending you weren’t on the verge of losing yourself over him again. Your pulse pounded through your fingertips as you toggled with your camera, you could feel it in your throat, your ribs, it was disarming. You exhaled heavily pressing your palm flat against your chest like that would calm it. It didn’t. 

“Y/n,” Mark called over the boards concern in his voice. “You good?” 

You forced a tight smile nodding your head. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” 

“You sure? You look -” 

“I said I’m fine Mark.” 

He held up his hands in surrender as he ducked away, though you could sense his lingering curiosity, he had never seen you waver, not like this. Not wanting to give him more to worry about you turned your back to him, to the ice and took a few grounding breaths. 

Bucky Barnes. 

Here. 

You hadn't seen his name in the pre-game media emails. Hadn’t caught a single whisper about a last-minute roster change. How could you have missed this? Digging your phone out of your coat pocket you unlocked the device to do a quick scan through the league’s news alerts and sure enough, there it was: 

TRADE CONFIRMED: Star winger Bucky Barnes heads to Boston in surprise move just days before season opener. 

How had you missed this? 

The article was dated two days ago. Two days, and no one had uttered a single word. Had the team kept it quiet on purpose? Or had you just been so deep in prep mode that you missed it? You swallowed hard, fingers hovering over the article, but you didn’t tap it open. You didn’t need to read it. You already knew the stats. You knew how good he was. You knew the numbers, the accolades, the goals. The reason behind why he was here, why he had been traded.

What you didn’t know - what you hadn’t dared to think about - was why he hadn' tried harder. Why didn't he try harder to reach you. You’d given him space when he made it, telling yourself he needed time to adjust to the big leagues that you didn’t want to be the one to distract him. That when the time was right for him, and he found himself that he would find you. 

But he never did. 

And now he’s here. 

You curl and uncurl your fingers shaking the digits out as you will yourself not to fall apart. This wasn’t high school. This wasn’t the night you stood outside the rink and watched him drive away with everything he’d ever wanted. 

This was your dream, the one you had chased without him in it. 

And you weren’t going to let a single look crack you open. 

Even if it already had. 

The buzzer pierced the air tearing you from your reverie, the first period beginning in a flash of movement. Stepping into your role like a second skin you moved with it, slipping down the edge of the boards, crouching into position, camera poised and ready. 

It was easier once the puck dropped. The motion, the rhythm, the muscle memory, you let it carry you as you focused on the angles, light, shutter speeds. You caught clean shots of face-offs, passes, hard checks against the glass. And through it all, Bucky moved like a storm just waiting to break. Controlled. Calculated. Focused in a way that pulled your gaze again and again, even when you didn’t mean to follow him. 

Halfway through the period, he stole the puck mid-zone, spun off a defender, and passed it clean to his line mate. The crowd roared. The shot missed, but it didn’t matter. The energy shifted. He was electric. 

And then, he caught your eye again. 

Just a flick of his eyes, right before the play reset. Almost like he wanted to be sure you were still there. Watching. 

Your fingers curled around your camera, you didn’t know what that look meant.

But you felt it down to your bones. 

And by the end of the first period, your entire body was buzzing with something other than adrenaline. 

In the nearly short time, you’d manage to capture nearly three hundred frames already, clean, crisp shots of first-game adrenaline, a few hard hits, and a couple of near-misses that would look perfect on the team’s social media page. You worked through the intermission, head down as you sorted through previews, selecting the best for upload. Your fingers moving, dragging files to folders, checking lighting, adjusting contrast—but none of it felt real. None of it felt normal to you. And you knew why. 

No matter how busy you tried to keep yourself you could feel his eyes on you. 

And he looked at you like he knew. As if no time had passed at all.  

But time had passed. Four years of it. Four years of silence. Four years of building a life without him.  And still, despite the time that passed, you remembered everything about him. 

The curve of his mouth when he smiled. The sound of his laugh when you tried to take his picture mid-fall. The way he laced his fingers through yours when the two of you skated alone that night, his cheeks flushed from cold and something sweeter. 

“Just… don’t forget me when you do.” 

“I promise, no matter how loud it gets out there you’re the only part I’ll never forget.”   

Your throat tightend as you shoved the memory down like it burned. 

“Yo Y/n, you catch that last play?” Benji from the team’s social video crew dropped onto the folding chair beside you, holding a hot dog in one hand and a clipboard in the other. 

“Of course I did Benj,” you said, without looking up from your work “Great puck control. Good chemistry it was a good play.” 

“He’s something, huh?” Benji mumbled around a bite his head tilted towards the ice. “Barnes, I mean. Hell of a pickup.” he said around a mouthful. 

You didn’t answer. 

“He’s gonna be a fan favorite. Like, immediately. We’ve already got two new merch drops planned with his name.” 

“That so?” you questioned voice flat, neutral. 

“Yeah. Honestly surprised you didn’t know he got traded.” Benji nudged your arm. “You’re usually on top of this stuff.” 

“Yeah, well I’ve been busy,” is all you can muster. 

Benji snorts drawing your gaze to him, “well, prepare to be busy with him. Word is the front office wants a full feature – I’m talking photos, interviews, maybe a docuseries down the line. That guy’s a gold mine.” 

You looked down at your camera. The screen still displaying the last photo you’d taken—Bucky mid-turn, looking over his shoulder, eyes aimed squarely at you. You clicked the shutter closed and tucked it into your lap. 

“Hey,” Benji said, noticing your shift. “You, okay?” 

“M’fine Benj.” 

“You sure, you don't like fine.” he tried 

“I said I’m fine.” you repeated as you got to your feet slinging your gear over your shoulder. 

“Alright. Sorry.” He held up both hands, backing off. “Didn’t mean to upset you.” 

You sighed not answering as you moved to walk down the tunnel toward the photo bay, ignoring the nerves spiking beneath your ribs. Your boots echoed along the concrete, each step louder than the last. 

You needed air. Or silence. Or both. 

Instead, you slipped into the Bruins’ media room and sank into your work. It was your safest space; rows of monitors, quiet keystrokes, and the hum of image processors. You worked in silence as you transferred the files to your editing station and let yourself go still for the first time all night. 

And then - you hesitated. 

There it was again. 

That photo. 

Bucky’s face on the screen, sharp and real and heartbreakingly familiar. His expression unreadable, but his eyes.

His eyes saw you. 

You reached out touching the edge of the screen like it might offer clarity, like it might tell you something you didn’t already know. 

“Why now?” you whisper.

You didn’t expect an answer. The screen stayed silent. The room stayed still. 

And in the quiet, something old and aching surfaced, something you’d buried for your own good. 

You had loved him. 

That wasn’t the hard part. 

The hard part was knowing you might still. 

The Bruins won their season opener in overtime. 

The locker room was chaos; shouts and laughter, music blaring, the thud of backs being slapped, skates being kicked off and gloves tossed aside. You stayed in the shadows like you always did, ducking through the edges of celebration to capture the aftermath. The triumph. The sweat. The fire burning in their eyes. 

Your lens stayed steady. 

Your pulse did not. 

You caught a shot of the team crowded around Bucky, slamming hands into his shoulders, shouting praise and calling him a beast. He smiled; wide and unguarded. For a second, it looked like he belonged here. 

And maybe he did. 

But he used to belong to you.

You take the photo and back away before he could see you. He hadn’t looked in your direction since the third period. Maybe you could still fade out of this night without being - 

“Hey hotshot.” 

His voice stopped you cold. 

You turned slowly, heart thudding. 

Bucky stood their in the hallway just outside of the media room, dressed in Bruin's warmups and damp from the post-game shower. A towel slung around his neck. His hair was a little longer than you remembered, curling slightly at the ends. His face held the same structure, only harder. More carved. But his eyes? 

Same. 

Too much. 

Blue and full of something unspoken. 

For a second, neither of you say anything. The world narrowed to the space between the two of you - four years wide, but shrinking fast. 

“Hi Bucky,” you say, voice coming out quieter then you meant. 

“Y/n,” he breathes, like it's the first time he’d been allowed to say your name again. 

Your breath hitches. 

You hated how easily he made you feel sixteen again. Awkward and hopeful and afraid of your own heart. But you weren’t that girl anymore. You had lines now. Boundaries. You had built yourself back from the pieces he left behind. 

You didn’t smile, didn’t move. 

“I didn’t know you were with the team,” he said after a pause, voice gentle, like anything louder might make you run. “I mean, I should’ve figured. Your work’s all over the site. You’ve gotten really good.” 

You blinked. “You didn’t recognize my name?” 

“I did,” he said. “But I didn’t believe it. Thought it might’ve been someone else.” 

His words hang between you. It hurt. It wasn’t fair, but it did. 

“Well,” you said, stepping back. “Now you know.” 

“Y/n - ” 

“Congratulations on the win Bucky.” You turned to go, but his voice stops you. 

“Wait. Please.” You freeze. 

“I didn’t forget you,” he whispers, and the words knock the breath right out of your chest. 

Slowly, you will yourself to face him again. 

His face is earnest. Raw. “That night - before I left, I meant what I said. About not forgetting. I tried to call you. A few times actually. But you never picked up. And then the season started, and things got crazy and I thought, I thought maybe you moved on.” 

You felt the sting behind your eyes, but you blinked it back. “Forgot? I waited, Bucky. I waited for months and all I got was radio silence.” 

“I know,” he said softly. “ I'm sorry, I should’ve tried harder.” 

A beat of silence. 

He looked like he wanted to close the space between the two of you but didn’t. “Can we talk? Not here. Just - sometime. Catch up.” 

Your hands found your camera, gripping it like it might save you. “I - I don’t know.” 

“You don’t have to say yes right now.” he rushes.

You shake your head, sad smile pulling at your lips, “I don’t know if I ever can.” 

Your words silence him.

The hallway feels smaller.

He looks at you like he understands, like he knew what he’s broken. 

And maybe he did. 

Not waiting for his reply you turn on your feet to go, and this time, he doesn't stop you. 

By the time you've made it home, your feet are sore, your back aches, and your head is too loud with everything you hadn’t said. You dropped your gear by the door and kicked off your boots as you padded through to your kitchen. Tea. You needed tea. Something warm to wrap your hands around while you pieced yourself back together. 

Again.

The kettle hissed to life as it heated the water, doing little to block Bucky’s voice still echoing in your ears. 

“I didn’t forget you.” 

Too late. 

You poured the water, letting the tea steep as you took it to the worn armchair in your living room. The walls were lined with framed shots from your last few seasons—mid-air slapshots, slow-motion goal celebrations, players locked in motion like dancers with blades. 

But none of those photos rattled you. 

Only one had. 

You set the mug down as you grab your laptop, plugging in your memory card. The folders from tonight were still there, untouched since the arena. You opened the preview set and flipped through until you found it. 

The shot. 

Bucky turning mid-play, the crowd blurred behind him, eyes locked on the camera. 

On you. 

You stared at the image, heart clenched too tight to ignore. It was a perfect photo, technically flawless. But it wasn’t that that stopped your breath. 

It was the expression on his face. 

Not fierce, like during the rush. Not celebratory. Not focused. 

Just open. 

Like he was still trying to say something you hadn’t let him finish. 

Your fingers hovered over the trackpad; you could delete it. Bury it in your archives. Pretend it didn’t feel like a bruise you hadn’t expected.  Instead, you copy it into a private folder. One you hadn’t touched in a long time. 

You name the file firstlook.jpg. 

Then you shut the laptop pushing the device away from you.

Outside, the city is quiet. The streetlights bleeding soft gold into your apartment, catching on the glass frame above your mantle. One of the only personal photos you kept on display. 

A boy and a girl on a frozen lake, four years ago. He's skating backward, holding her hand. She's laughing, scarf trailing behind her like a ribbon of light. The picture wasn’t perfect. The angle was off, the focus a little soft. 

But the look on her face? 

It said everything. 

You took a long sip of tea, eyes on the past, and let the silence settle around you like snow. 

Maybe Bucky Barnes was back in your life. 

But that didn’t mean you had to let him stay. 

Still. 

That look. 

That stupid, aching look. 

It lingered. 

[siriuslystyle1989]

Get Back Here!

Azriel x fem!Reader

warnings: VERY slight illusions to sex, fluff, Az being perfect.

masterlist

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Clouded light billowed through the loose curtains, falling onto the curve of Azriel's shoulder as he began to stir.

Slowly, the Illyrian blinked away sleep, reaching out a hand for his mate.

Alas, he was met with nothing but layers of bedsheet.

Rubbing his hazel eyes, Azriel propped himself up on his elbows, looking around for Y/n.

However, his shadows seemed to beat him to it as they waltzed off towards the bathroom where the muffled sound of someone washing their hands could be heard.

The bathroom door clicked open to reveal Y/n. Clad in nothing but one of Azriel's shirts.

Azriel felt a familiar heat rise in his chest, a feeling of awe that still hadn't ceased in all their years of marriage.

"Good morning sleepy." Y/n chuckled, looking at Azriel with adoration in her eyes

His shadows began to swirl around her, Clearly just as smitten as their owner.

Azriel groaned, silently willing Y/n to get back into bed with him.

"You okay?" Y/n asked, genuine concern lacing her features as she gazed back at him.

"I will be if you get back here." He replied, his voice still remnant of sleep.

She giggled slightly but nodded, finding herself being pushed by his shadows already.

As Y/n began to near the bed, Azriel reached out his arms until his scarred hands met her waist, pulling her down on top of him.

Her head met his bare chest and Azriel let out a sigh of relief as he lazily threw a wing over her, cradling the girl.

"Az, as much as I would love to stay here cuddled up all day, we have to go to that meeting Rhys wanted us to attend" She spoke, cupping Azriel's face as he ran a hand up and down her back.

"I'm sure someone can fill us in." He replied kissing her hair, breathing in her scent.

"And anyway, it's a Saturday." Azriel added almost like he was trying to convince his mate to stay.

"Yeah, alright." Y/n replied, not sounding all too convinced.

"We'll have to see because-" Azriel cut her off with a shushing sound, lightly stroking her hair.

"I love to hear your voice sweetheart, really I do, but sleep, relax baby. It's still early."

Y/n let out a small giggle and moved up to lightly kiss his lips, then bury herself In the crook of his neck.

"Fine but only because I love you."

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A/n: The Azriel obsession runs DEEP.

tysm for all of the love on my last few posts I really appreciate it <3