#i pulled this entire week out of my ass [looks up to sky] this ones for you joseph | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deansbeer · 6 months ago

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★ SUNSETS, SOMBREROS, & SURPRISES // birthday boy edition.

SYNOPSIS. you surprise dean with a getaway to mexico for his birthday, complete with heartfelt gifts, a sunset stroll, and life-changing news.

-> if i missed a warning, please do let me know !

KARI'S NOTES. happy bday to baby boy <3 he deserves everything in the entire world, and i believe (in my head) he is very much alive + living his best life after giving up hunting because S15 never happened. anyway! i hope u enjoy this, which was just sitting there in my notes all day <333

DEAN WINCHESTER'S birthday had always been a quiet affair—if it was celebrated at all. most years, it was just a beer, maybe a piece of pie if he was lucky, and maybe sam would remember to say something. it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the effort when it happened; it just wasn't something he was used to. birthdays were just days, right? another year older, another year spent fighting the good fight.

but this year, you weren't having it.

you'd been planning this trip for weeks, keeping everything under wraps as best as you could. it wasn't easy; dean had a way of sniffing out surprises, especially when it came to you. but somehow, you managed to keep him in the dark.

so when you told him—casually, over breakfast—that you had booked a trip for the two of you, his fork froze halfway to his mouth.

"a trip?" he repeated, brows furrowing.

you smiled, taking a sip of your coffee. "yep. two weeks, just you and me. no cases, no monsters, no bunker. just… us."

he gave you a suspicious look. "where?"

"mexico," you said, watching his reaction carefully.

dean blinked. "mexico?"

"mexico," you confirmed, grinning.

he set his fork down, leaning back in his chair. "and how exactly are we getting there? because i know baby's not built for that kinda trip."

you tried not to laugh. "we're flying."

his face immediately twisted into a grimace. "oh, hell no."

"dean—"

"nope. not happening. i'm not getting on a plane."

you sighed, reaching across the table to take his hand. "you survived it once, didn't you? besides, this isn't a hunt. it's a vacation. you have me with you the whole time, and i promise, nothing's gonna happen."

he stared at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to come up with another excuse. but you gave him that look—the one that always made him cave—and he finally sighed, muttering, "fine. but if i die, i'm haunting your ass."

you laughed, squeezing his hand. "deal."

the flight itself was… tense. dean was on edge the entire time, gripping the armrests like the plane was about to fall out of the sky. you spent most of the flight holding his hand, rubbing soothing circles into his palm, and distracting him with small talk. by the time you landed, he seemed a little less tense, but he still muttered something about never doing this again as you grabbed your bags.

but once you stepped outside and felt the warm sun on your face, all of his complaints seemed to melt away. the two of you made your way to the hotel, checked in, and by the time you reached your room, dean was actually beaming.

the room was beautiful—large windows overlooking the ocean, a king-sized bed, and a balcony where you could hear the waves crashing in the distance. it was perfect.

"damn, sweetheart," dean said, dropping his bag and whistling low. "you really went all out, huh?"

"only the best for you, birthday boy," you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

he turned in your arms, pulling you close. "you didn't have to do all this."

"i wanted to," you said simply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

the rest of the evening you both spent it enjoying each other. after some steamy sex that left both of you tangled in the sheets, you laid together, the warm breeze from the open balcony door cooling your skin. dean had an arm draped over you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder as you rested your head on his chest.

"this is nice," he murmured, his voice low and content.

"yeah," you agreed, your fingers brushing over the ridges of his abs.

you had two surprises planned for him, but you decided to start with the one you knew he'd love.

the next evening, after a lazy morning spent in bed and a quick swim in the hotel pool, you and dean got ready to head out to a restaurant you'd researched weeks ago.

dean had noticed you staying up late in the bunker, your laptop open and your brow furrowed in concentration. he'd assumed it was for a hunt, maybe some research sam had roped you into. but now, he realized it had all been for this.

as you stepped into the restaurant, dean was immediately greeted by a group of staff who placed a large, brightly decorated sombrero on his head. you'd called ahead, asking if they could do something special for his birthday, and they'd certainly delivered.

he looked ridiculous, but the grin on his face was worth it.

"you planned this too?" he asked, glancing at you as he adjusted the sombrero.

"of course," you said, smiling. "it's your birthday, baby. i wanted it to be special."

the two of you spent the evening laughing, eating some of the best food dean had ever tasted, and him having a few drinks. you even ordered for him in spanish, your fluency leaving him both impressed and—if the look in his eyes was anything to go by—more than a little turned on.

"damn," he said after you helped him pronounce something on the menu. "never thought i'd find spanish sexy, but here we are."

you laughed, shaking your head. "glad i could surprise you."

later, as the two of you walked along the beach, the sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink, dean seemed more relaxed than you'd seen him in years. he was barefoot, his flip-flops dangling from his fingers, and his other hand was firmly clasped in yours.

you wore a long white summer dress, the fabric fluttering in the breeze, and dean couldn't stop stealing glances at you.

"you look beautiful, darlin'," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

you smiled, your cheeks warming. "you don't look so bad yourself, my love."

when you reached a pair of deck chairs, you both sat down, dean immediately pulling his closer to yours. his hands rested on your thighs, his touch warm and grounding as he stared out at the ocean.

you took the opportunity to pull out the first gift—a small envelope with his name written on the front in your neat cursive.

"what's this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed it to him.

"open it and find out," you said, grinning.

he carefully tore it open, pulling out the letter and saw tickets inside. his eyes widened as he read the letter, and by the time he got to the tickets, his jaw had dropped.

"no fucking way," he breathed, staring at the words 'Metallica VIP' printed on the tickets.

"yes way," you said, laughing.

"you're serious?" he asked, looking at you like he couldn't believe it.

"dead serious. we're going as soon as we get back."

he was quiet for a moment, his eyes misting over as he looked back at the tickets. then he set them down and pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over your face.

"you're amazing, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you laughed, brushing a tear from his cheek. "you deserve it, dean. you deserve everything."

he shook his head, his smile soft. "i don't know what i did to deserve you."

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "you're you. that's enough."

after a moment, you pulled back, reaching behind you for the second gift.

"there's one more thing," you said, your voice growing a little shaky.

dean frowned slightly, his brows furrowing. "what more could you possibly—"

you held out the pregnancy test, your hands trembling slightly.

"i'm pregnant, baby," you said softly, your eyes searching his face.

for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words. then a slow smile spread across his face, and he let out a choked laugh.

"you're serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, tears streaming down your face. "yeah. i'm serious."

he let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around. you squealed, clinging to him as he laughed, his joy infectious.

when he finally set you down, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips.

"thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "thank you for… everything."

you smiled, resting your forehead against his. "happy birthday, my love."

that night, you celebrated with champagne — he drank one for you and himself — laughter, and the quiet promise of a future filled with love.

SPECIAL TAGS. @figthoughts @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @rafespreciosa @voidsuites . . . ☆

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auxmodi · 5 months ago

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hi hello u are so talented, i love ur stuff!

if u feel like it, could u do a drabble where highborn!reader accidentally calls sandor ser before they leave and he spends the rest of the day thinking about it? pre established, secret relationship style, smexual tension with fluff? he thinks reader is riling him up and reader’s like “no i just actually hold u in rlly high regard” which makes it worse (better) for him lolol

or just have fun with it! tysm and have a nice week regardless!!! <333333

thanks so much! <3 and oh im eating this scenario up.

my masterlist

summary: a secret meeting in the dead of night turns heated when words slip, and sandor is left struggling to keep his distance. things escalate quickly, but neither of you are backing down now.

word count: 807

a/n; i didnt write for like 3 weeks this feel like ASS im sorry

tags: secret meeting, sexual tension, forbidden romance, flirting

you didn’t mean to say it. it just… slipped.

the moon was barely hanging in the sky when you met him outside the stables, the cold air biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. the secrecy was always a part of it, always had to be. but when you saw him, broad and looming, the flickering torchlight catching his face just right, the words left you before you could stop them.

“ser,” you greeted, barely a whisper, your eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second. just enough for him to hear it.

for a split second, he froze. just stood there, like someone had punched him in the gut. his gaze locked on you, hard and sharp.

“ser?” his voice was low, rough, and it sent a chill down your spine. “you’ve never called me that.”

you swallowed, your heart racing. it was just an accident, wasn’t it? it had slipped out in the heat of the moment, as always, a stupid little title to keep things in line. “i was just—being polite,” you said quickly, stepping closer to him, your fingers brushing the edge of his cloak like it was nothing. “you know, formality and all that.”

he didn’t look convinced. in fact, he looked like he was about to bite your head off. “polite,” he repeated, his voice getting darker, “right.”

you tried to lighten the mood, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “it’s just a title, sandor. it doesn’t mean—”

“doesn’t mean what?” he cut you off, his voice rising, rougher now, the words thick with something more than irritation. “you think you’re foolin’ me?” his gaze never left yours, burning with a quiet fury you hadn’t expected.

you stopped yourself, suddenly aware that your words were slipping past your control.

god, how did it get this tense so quickly?

“look,” you started again, voice softer this time. “i didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“oh, it’s already fuckin’ weird,” he muttered under his breath, but you could see his fingers twitch like he was fighting the urge to grab you, to do something else entirely.

you couldn’t help but smirk, taking another step closer, letting your voice drop lower. “i don’t see what the big deal is. it’s just a title.”

he didn’t laugh. instead, his eyes darkened even more, and for a second, you thought he might grab you, pull you into him right there in the shadows.

“it’s not about that.” his voice was rough, still carrying that edge, but you could tell he was fighting it. “you think i don’t know what you’re doin’?” he finally said, his tone low and gruff. “you think i don’t know you’re stirrin’ me up?”

you stepped a little closer to him, your voice a soft whisper now, the words hanging in the air between you like a dare. "sandor, i just actually hold you in really high regard,” you said, trying to ease the tension with a soft smile.

he stared down at you, just a few inches between your faces now, and you almost swore you could hear his pulse racing. he tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours, as if contemplating the words you’d just thrown at him.

his lips pressed into a thin line before one corner twitched up in a reluctant smirk. “fuckin’ hell,” he murmured, shaking his head. “you’re the kind of trouble I don’t walk away from, aren’t you?”

your chest tightened, the air thickening between you with every second. Instead of backing away, you let the words hang there, settling between you like a challenge. you took a step closer, voice dropping low, but firm. “i never planned on letting you.”

his breath felt warm against your neck, he was so close now, you could feel the heat from his body and hear the low rumble in his chest as he spoke again.

“you’d better hope I don’t decide to take that as an invitation.”

you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped, before he gave in to whatever this was.

and damn, you weren’t sure if you were ready for it, but you weren’t backing down now.

you touch his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic as you whisper, “maybe i want you to see it as an invitation.”

his jaw tightens, and for a moment, all he does is stare, the flicker of a smirk ghosting across his face. “you really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“not when it comes to you.”

his grip finds your waist, rough and deliberate, pulling you closer. “you've no idea what you're askin' for” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his lips crash against yours, stealing whatever clever retort you thought you had left.

for once, neither of you held back.

#gameofthrones #sandor clegane x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #sandor clegane #got #sandor the hound clegane #the hound x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #the hound fanfic #IM BACK

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oneforthemunny · 11 months ago

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🪡 🪄 🌙

janitor!eddie, smut, rain.

minors dni. smut. really sweet smut. a little voyeurism??

"I thought the weather man said it wasn't supposed to rain today?" You squinted towards the greying sky, a dark cloud rolling towards your home.

"Yeah, maybe it'll pass." Eddie shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand. "Hope it does, anyway. I don't want the mulch to flood away."

It had been two weeks since you both had moved in together, bought a house, and spent every waking second unpacking and sprucing up the little fixer upper.

Well, almost every second.

The other time was spent pawing at each other, pulling the other close, shoving clothes off in every square inch of your new home. There was something so sexy about domesticity, Eddie decided.

The weather had promised clear skies for the next two days, which turned out to be false. You felt a wet glob fall on your shoulder as you were bent over the flower beds pulling overgrown weeds, and before you knew it, a furious rain storm was pouring relentlessly down on the two of you.

You scurried, trying to pick up your gloves, the gardening tools so they wouldn't rust, sprinting with Eddie to the small covered porch for shelter, dripping from the pelting rain.

"Shit," Eddie huffed, rain droplets running down his face, his neck. A single drop of rain tracing down the vein of his neck, the one you loved to nip at. "So much for clear skies, huh? No chance of rain my ass. That weather guy needs to find a new career, because this is the second time he's- oof!"

Eddie's rant was cut short, words stolen by your lips, feverishly pressing into his. It was his favorite interruption, one he'd never complain about.

Your hands pulled at his soaking shirt, the wet cotton heavy and tight against his skin, wringing the water out in your fists. The rain continued to drive, bouncing off the grass and the edge of the concrete slab you were on, sheltered by the covering.

"Sweetheart," Eddie groaned, rain droplets sliding down from his own soaking hair and skin to you. "What're you doin'?" He muttered, a teasing grin of a smile that told you he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Mm, you look really good wet." You muttered, hands knotted through the base of his neck, tugging him closer to you.

"And you said you wanted to do it in every room of the house." Your eyes lit with sparks of excitement, adrenaline running through Eddie's veins. "We haven't done it here."

"H-Here?" Eddie's voice cracked, eyes wide. His heart hammered with adrenaline, looking at the neighbors over the wood fence. His cock rushed with excitement, the thrill of it, leaving his head reeling and rushing.

"Baby, what if they see?" Eddie muttered, though his hips didn't move from your grasp, didn't wiggle aways when you reached for the button of his jeans.

"They won't, Eddie. The fence will cover us." You grinned, lips curling in a devious little smile.

And who was Eddie to deny you? He'd be a fool. A fool who would never know what it was like to feel you, wet chest to wet chest, rain running down the two of your bodies as you rocked slowly on top of him, the rain pouring over the two of you.

It felt entirely romantic, ethereal, like something out of the fantasy books he'd read, or the rom-coms you'd make him watch; having sex in the rain, getting soaked from the elements, clinging to the other, so vulnerable in the outdoors but hidden.

Eddie didn't care about the grass in his hair, or that the mulch had definitely washed away. Not when he got to hear your small whimpers of pleasure, drowned out by the steady stream of the rain, finishing with you, buried deep inside you.

There was a patch left in the grass for weeks after that. A rutted, soil exposed spot from Eddie's back. Every morning, Eddie would look at it, grinning smugly at the memory. He hoped it would never grow back, stay there forever as a reminder.

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c0wboylikeharry · 7 days ago

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GARDEN OF EDEN (h.s)

(masterlist) || (taglist)

chpt 1

(read the prologue)

harry styles x fmc

summary: tba

word count: 5k

warnings: mentions of past trauma, mentions of death

a/n: i’m so excited, y’all have no idea the shit that’s about to go down. this is only the beginning ;)

Tiptoeing, hushed conversations and rushed movements. The wind from the open window sends a chill down my spine and makes all the hair on my body stand up straight. The moon is no longer high in the sky as the hues of the sun begin to peek through the horizon. We know we have to hurry before everyone wakes up and all of our planning and work is gone to waste.

"Shh!" Isla shushes me louder than any sound I've made.

"I'm not even making any noise!" I whisper-shout.

"My parents are going to wake up soon, we have to go," her words are frantic and breathy. We've been up the entire night slowly throwing miscellaneous items out her bedroom window onto the grass below. Trash bags of our clothes, childhood stuffed animals we can't part with, and any and all hygiene products. We're lucky no one woke up to the sound of my perfume bottle hitting the pavement and shattering completely. "Okay, I'm ready."

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," I say, excitement mixed with an overpowering fear is evident in my voice.

"Me neither." She smiles brightly.

She brushes past me as she walks towards her bedroom window, tossing the final bag of memorabilia onto the ground. With one last look of encouragement pointed towards me, she hooks one of her legs outside the windowsill. She ducks her head and pulls the rest of her body through, resting on the edge. I cross the room to gauge her fall, trying to decide if it's better to break my leg or wake the house up by using the front door. As soon as she pushes her weight off the window, her body falls to the floor. She catches herself on her knees, using the pile of our things for a softer landing.

I peer my head outside—the fall from here appearing to be twenty stories, instead of one from the growing anxiety in my chest. On shaky legs, I force myself through the opening, sitting comfortably on the edge. "I can't do it, it's too high."

"It's really not!" Isla mutters quietly up to me. "Look," she spins in a circle. "Not even a scratch."

"What if we just stayed here?" I shrug my shoulders, genuinely considering it.

"Hell no! Get your ass down here!"

Using her—not so kind—words of encouragement, I fling my body out of the window. My fall isn't as graceful as hers was. Everything hip-up landed on the bag full of our clothes, whereas the rest of me splattered straight onto the concrete. "Fuck!" I scream out as quietly as I can.

"Shh! You're gonna wake up the whole damn neighborhood!" Isla shushes me once again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Isla. It just seems that I've broken all the bones in my fucking body!" My voice raises with my agony. Despite the shooting pain in my entire lower half, I peel myself up from the floor. "Take the bags to the van, I'm gonna just wait for God to take me."

"Nuh-uh," she tuts. "No man left behind, remember." She hooks her arms underneath my armpits and lifts me up from the ground with all her strength. I have to help her out—since, well, she's got overcooked noodles for arms—and the pain in my hip nearly blinds me. While I stand on wobbly legs, Isla shoves bags into my open arms, a look of determination on her face. I half-hobble to the van, ten feet behind her fast pace.

The van is rusty, smells like wet pennies, and it's a putrid yellow color; but it's our saving grace. Isla found it on the side of the round a few weeks back and we took it as a sign for our plan to finally commence.

As we like to call it; Espace-this-hellish-town-and-leave- behind-everything-and-everyone-who-wronged-us plan.

Though some things you can't ever really leave behind, no matter how fast you think you can run.

Isla tosses our trash bags into the open space in the van, also known as our new home for who knows how long. The sliding door slams shut, the sound reverberating off the stucco of the houses. She throws her head into her hands like it'll make her invisible somehow.

The sun seems to be rising faster than usual today, probably in spite of us and our plan. We know that soon enough her father will be stirring from his sleep and throwing on his glasses to read his bible quote of the day, so it's now or never. Isla rushes to the drivers side of the van and throws open the corroding door, eliciting a shriek from the hinges. I slide into the passenger seat as quietly as I can, and just as my door closes, Isla shoves the keys into the ignition. The engine laughs in our faces as it backfires a few times but Isla is stubborn. She twists the key until it forces the van to roar to life.

With just our luck, the radio abruptly wakes up—a staticky rendition of some Johnny Cash song blasting through the speakers. I've never seen someone move as fast as Isla does when she slams her hand down on the radios kill switch. We simultaneously take a deep breath in the silence, staring out the dirty windshield and silently praying that this is what's right.

Without any warning, Isla presses onto the gas and the tires squeal as we race out of the neighborhood. Might as well make a dramatic exit while we're at it.

The only place I've ever known flashes by me, looking particularly appealing in the soft morning glow. It almost makes it seem like it's begging me to stay. But I can't. I've known for a while now that I don't belong here anymore. The mission now is to find some place that welcomes us with widespread arms and maybe a warm bed. We need a place we can start fresh, no preconceived notions or pity filled glares. Somewhere where absolutely no one knows what happened to me.

With absolutely zero direction or destination in mind, we set off into the open road.

"What are you thinking about?" Isla breaks me from my thoughts.

"Where we're gonna be sleeping until god knows when," I tell the truth. While I practically founded this plan, I never fully registered the fact that we don't have any money.

"The floor back there's pretty comfortable if you're okay with the smell of dog urine." She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I think I'm good." Even though humor laces my tongue, neither of us laugh. It would almost feel wrong at a time like this.

"We'll figure it out, Dee." She peers over at me with a reassuring smile, though I know she doesn't believe her own words.

"What about food? We can't go days or even weeks without eating."

"I have some money from my piggy bank. If we're smart with it we can afford some cheap gas station food and gas," she explains.

"Oh boy, can't wait." This time we laugh.

Just as we pass the town's welcome sign, the weight on both of our shoulders gets stuck at the border, where it will stay.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

"Which do you think will last us longer; cheese puffs or pretzels?" Isla speaks from beside me.

Our stomachs began making unpleasant noises not even two hours into our drive. Being in the middle of nowhere, this dingy gas station was our only option. It's hotter in here than it is outside, the man working the register was too busy with his scratch off to welcome us, and the bathrooms here haven't been cleaned since the fifties. The options are limited; one row of fridges filled with drinks I've never heard of, two aisles of snacks and candy, and a wall of cigarettes.

"Definitely the pretzels." I point to the off-brand blue bag. Isla shoves the cheese puffs back into their respective place and we both make our way up to the burly man. We place our waters and pretzels onto the counter, and only then does he glance up at us. The transaction goes smoothly and luckily we walk out in one piece.

"I thought for sure that man was going to throw us in the back room and chop our hands off with an axe." Isla shudders as we walk back to our van.

"I know! He was acting like we were disturbing him?" I throw my body onto the seat, which was probably not the best idea since the upholstery is basically disintegrated and it's just a slab of wood at this point.

"I think it's safe to say we cross whatever this town's name is off our 'where we belong' list." The car roars to life and we make a swift exit.

"Are you sure you don't wanna go back there and have that man's burly babies? Just imagine your life here; running a convenience store, playing scratch offs with your husband, it really is the dream, isn't it?" I joke.

"Maybe for you, but not for me." She smiles widely like she's envisioning her dream life right now. Probably full of glitz and glamor, freedom and love. We couldn't be more different.

"Is it too late to ask you to turn this car around and take me back to my soulmate?" Isla laughs loudly, her smile reflecting the burning sun in the sky.

We sit in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the quiet hum of the radio. I lean forward and turn the dial up to the max. The sounds of a Fleetwood Mac song ring through the speakers, cutting in and out from our spotty signal. The feeling of utter freedom washes over my soul as I watch the trees outside the window blow in the wind. I should've known that Isla and I's souls were connected, because before I knew it, she's using the handheld crank to roll her window down. I follow in suit, hearing the high pitched scream of the rusty mechanics doing their job. The wind that blew through the trees now tangles in my hair, a warm breeze that forces a smile on my face.

If I wrote a book two years ago based on what I wanted my life to look like, this would be it. Calming winds instead of fear stricken flames, blushing cheeks of joy instead of reddened cheeks from heat, my feet hanging out of the open window instead of bleeding from the gravel that I ran for miles on. Even with absolutely no idea where we will end up, I know that this is exactly where I am supposed to be. Sitting in a van that's crumbling beneath us with the California desert winds in our hair—it's peace. Something that, two years ago, I would've told you was a figment of people's imagination.

Complete freedom and tranquility.

For the first time in a while I see the light at the end of the tunnel. A light that used to haunt me with the memories of the flames.

But now I'm changing the narrative.

For the first time in a while, instead of running away from the bright and burning light, I'm running straight into it.

Absolutely nothing can ruin this for me.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

"It's dead." Isla kicks the metal of the van, leaving a size 7 shoe dent in the side of it.

"Dead?!" I shriek, feeling all of the blood in my body cease to exist.

"Yes, Dee, dead. Deceased, expired, passed away, lifeless, inert, with God—dead," she sighs, giving the corn colored metal one last kick.

"H-How? Why? Are you- How?" My hands are in my hair, tugging at the root as I pace around the barren street.

"Guess I should've known this thing was a piece of shit since it was just sitting on the side of the road," she grumbles and passes me to go stand along the empty highway.

"What are we gonna do?! We're too far from home to walk—too far from anything to walk!" It seems that I'm the only one freaking out here. My breathing is shallow and erratic as Isla sits down calmly in the dirt.

"First off, that place isn't home—not anymore. And secondly, we're gonna wait. Someone's gotta drive by at some point. Maybe they could help us?" Her head falls between her knees, hiding it from the harsh sun rays that beat down on us.

"And then what? Are we supposed to just get in their car?! What if they're murderers?!" My voice comes out strangled and high-pitched from being choked out by my anxiety.

"You've been reading too many mystery novels, Dee." I walk over to where she's sitting, standing in front of her so her eyes are blocked from the sun when she looks up at me.

"It could be hours before someone drives by here. Let alone someone who's willing to help us." I plead to her with my eyes, even though there really is no solution to this. "What happens when it gets dark?"

"Then the wolves come out and put us out of our misery," she attempts to joke. "I don't know! God, please just calm down so I can think!"

I plop down next to her in the dirt, my eyes staying focused on the empty road beside us. "Thinking isn't going to do us any good. We're stranded here. We're going to die of starvation and dehydration and absolutely no one is going to come looking for us." I sigh. "Maybe this plan wasn't a good idea... Maybe we should've just stay—"

"Don't finish that sentence," she cuts me off. "I don't know about you, but dying here with you is a million times better than still feeling stuck there." She looks over at me with sincerity in her eyes. She wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Someone's going to come." I try my hardest to convince myself with my own words.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

It's been hours.

How many hours? I couldn't tell you. But judging from the angle of the sun in the sky, a lot of time has passed since we sat down on the side of the road.

Not one car has driven past us.

Not one beat up pickup truck with a masked murder in the front seat, not one bright red convertible with a driver who couldn't be bothered to help us, not one semi truck hauling goods across the state; no one.

I'm trying my hardest to not lose hope that someone—anyone—will drive up that hill and spot us here, but it's getting hard. Isla and I haven't said a word in the hours that have passed, probably in fear that if one of us voices our fears, they'll come true. Our senses have been on high alert since we sat; the sounds of revving engines from miles and miles away letting us down, the smell of burning rubber tricking us into thinking someone is rushing to help us, the sounds of wind blowing through the trees like whistles making us believe that maybe, just maybe, God has come to guide us.

But everything's a dead end. The light at the end of the tunnel has turned back to flames, burning up my hopes until they're nothing but ash and smoke. Just when I was coming to peace with my newfound freedom, I now have to come to peace with my impending doom.

The sun will set soon, and we'll still be here.

"Should we get back into the van for shelter?" Isla speaks from beside me, the first words between us.

"What if a car drives by and we miss it?" She gives me a pointed look telling me that she highly doubts that happening, but I can't give up on it just yet. I'll hold on to the glimmer of hope I have left until the edges of it slice my skin open. "I'll stay out here, you take a break from the sun."

"Okay," she mutters as she stands from the ground, wiping the dirt off her pants. "Yell if a car comes!"

"Oh, I'll do a lot more than just yell!"

She breathes a short laugh before closing the door behind her. The air around me instantly feels ten degrees cooler, the noises of nature surrounding me much louder. It puts me on even higher alert, even though there's not much to be looking out for. I know that staying out here and waiting for a miracle is pointless, but there would've been the nagging feeling of 'what if' if I followed her inside. I bet that even from inside the van I'd be able to hear if a car was coming, but I need to see it with my own eyes. See it as it climbs the hill in the distance and races towards us, just so I can know that I'm not making it up.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go—obviously. By this time we were supposed to be well into Southern California, basking in the summer sun and hanging out with movie stars. Maybe that's where we were headed? We should be walking the sandy beaches and picking up peculiar seashells to make wishes on later. We should be crossing state borders and discovering small towns that we never knew existed. Being stranded on the side of road in the middle of who-the-fuck-knows was definitely not how today was supposed to go.

If someone were to tell me that it's been hours since Isla went into the van, or that it's been days since I sat down, I'd believe them. It's almost like I can feel reality slipping away from me, even as odd and dramatic as that sounds. I know it's only been a short time here and I know it's too soon to start going mentally insane, but my subconscious takes over and sends me spiraling. The feeling of being alone out here and being on such high alert sends me into overdrive. I could just be getting tired and the hallucinations of staying awake well past twenty-four hours are hitting me, but reality starts to shift.

I swear I can feel the ground shake beneath me as if a heavyweight car was approaching. I swear I can smell the scent of burning rubber as it burns on the pavement. I swear I can hear the hum of a radio grow louder and louder. I swear I can see headlights from a car rising above the hill in the distance—coming straight for me.

I swear it's all happening, but maybe it's not.

I blink my eyes repeatedly as they fixate on the blinding lights being shone in my face. My heart beats quickly in my chest, a feeling of fear and excitement rising in my blood, but I can't get my hopes up. If this is just my psyche playing a cruel trick, I won't look like a fool.

The music grows louder and the song becomes recognizable—Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac—the same song that played on our radio as we drove out of town. Even though I can hear the music so clearly in my head - the building bridge and the loud chorus, it has to be a fluke. The parallel is too coincidental, it's not real. I'm imagining the headlights that are only a few miles away now. The song must've just been stuck in my head from earlier and now it's taunting me. The sounds of hollering and laughter that bounce off the empty street is a lie.

They all grow louder—closer—strangling me with a truth I know isn't real. I throw my head in my hands and try my hardest to shake away the nightmare but it doesn't work. When I lift my gaze back to the road, the car is still there, the music still plays, and the laughter still taunts me.

Maybe this time it is real?

I shoot up from my seat on the floor, my eyes wide and my heart thumping in my ears. Even with the change of perspective, it's still there. It's real. There really is someone coming. Emotion fills my body quickly, but I can't dwell on the relief. The sun is starting to set, casting a golden haze over the empty street. I have to hope whoever is in this car sees us and decides we're worthy of being saved.

I whip around to the van and throw open the sliding door. The hinges rattle from the rude awakening and Isla stirs awake from the loud noise.

"W-What? What? Are we under attack?" Her half-lidded eyes scan the small space, eventually landing on my—probably very scary—expression.

"Car!" Is all I can scream out.

"Car?" She springs up, her eyes just as wide as mine.

"Car." I nod assuredly.

She hops out of the van to stand beside me, sighing a large breath of relief at the sight of the headlights as if she might've thought I'd gone crazy. I thought I was, but it's real. As clear as day, heading straight for us. Even though the car is a few miles away, we scream. We scream as loud as we possibly can, flailing our limbs in every direction in an attempt to draw as much attention to ourselves as possible. The car is nearing, the music is getting louder, and my anxiety and hopes are growing. This one, singular car has to be the one to save us. It just has to be.

"Pull over! Pull over!" We chant into the air hoping the wind carries our message to them.

The car is close enough now that I can see a few silhouettes hanging outside the windows. Hair blowing in the wind and laughter that infects us from a mile away. It's a large van, similar to ours, but less beat-up and running. It's a faded shade of blue with decorations lining the entire thing. The vehicle almost glows in the sunset, appearing straight out of a movie or scripture.

The word glorious comes to mind.

A glorious van, filled with glorious music and glorious laughter.

A glorious van that Isla and I scream out at with desperation dripping off our tongues.

A glorious van that's slowing down on the highway.

A glorious van that sees us.

"They're stopping!" Isla squeals and jumps around gleefully, tugging on my arm and trying to force me in on the celebration.

I feel like I could cry just from the sight. Who knew an old van filled with complete strangers could make me feel so safe?

The strangers slowly start to spill from the car, five of them to be exact. They wait for everyone to exit before staring at us from a yard away. The sun is setting behind them, so it's hard to really pick out what they look like, but their clothing blows in the wind. All of them dressed in airy articles of clothing that glimmer from the backlight.

Angels.

That's what they look like.

Angels that have been sent to save us.

Maybe my parents weren't so wrong after all?

"Holy shit," I mutter under my breath without even meaning to.

The group begins to walk towards us like a scene straight out of a film; slow-mo, wind blown hair, etc. I feel like I need to stand up straighter and hold my head up higher as they approach, almost like we are about to be judged by the Gods. It's daunting to watch them walk, but we don't make any move to meet them halfway. They are close enough now that I can hear the gravel beneath their feet crack, and I can start to see the features on their faces more clearly.

With the dynamic in which they're walking, there seems to be a leader. Off to the far left is a red-headed woman. Her pale skin glistens in the fading light, a bright smile growing on her face as they get closer. Next to her is a man with a similar shade of hair—fiery red. His curls bounce as he walks but his features aren't as inviting as the woman next to him. On the far right is a darker-skinned woman, the sun beaming off of her smooth skin like she's the one creating the light. Her dark hair frames her face and accentuates her soft features. Next to her is a tall, fair-skinned man. His blonde hair is pushed out of his face, showing off his impeccable bone structure.

The man in the middle, though, steals my attention. His long legs take him far quickly, covered in distressed denim with patches to hide the aging. He wears a flowy, white button up shirt that—with help from the light—is practically see-through. Through the material I can see the shadows of what I assume are tattoos, littered all over his torso and arms. His broad shoulders lead up to a lean neck that holds—what I am to believe is—the face of an actual, living, breathing... angel. The sun creates the perfect shadows on his face, outlining his strong jaw, heart shaped lips, and sharp nose. His eyes are piercing from here, a light shade of green that begs you to stare longingly into them. And the, literal, cherry on top is his hair. A mess of brown curls that look like his hands do nothing but rake through it, though there is one rouge piece that falls perfectly over his forehead. He's straight out of a dream with a golden aura wrapping him in a hug.

I'm stunned into silence.

"Hello!" Isla calls out loudly even though they are only a couple feet in front of us at this point.

I would greet them if I remembered how to speak, but unfortunately I don't.

"Hi there," the golden boy speaks, a hint of an accent rolling off his tongue. "You two lost?" He stares directly into my soul.

"Yeah," Isla laughs nervously, probably also flustered by this walking and talking anomaly. "Our van broke down. We've been here for a couple hours."

"Well, shit, that doesn't sound good." He laughs breathily, the noise is what I assume angels singing would sound like. "You guys in need of a lift? Somewhere in particular you're heading?"

"Uhm... No particular destination, no." Isla stares over at me, and only then do I realize that I still haven't said anything.

"We were just driving where the wind took us," I finally speak up and the beautiful stranger's eyes instantly lock onto mine. A smile that mimics the fleeting sun takes over his face as he stares at me. "I guess the wind didn't like us very much."

The group mutters a mix of laughs, all a different sound, but all silencing at the exact same time.

"We could give you guys a lift if you want? We live in this small community just a couple miles up the road, I'm sure someone there could help fix up your van." He suggests with a nonchalant tone.

Almost instantly my mind reels with worst case scenarios. Crazed murders, kidnappers, bad people who will sell us to even worse people. They could be anyone, and it'd be hard to trust them. But the way this golden man is staring at me, with such sincerity and pureness in his eyes, it makes it a bit easier.

"That's so kind of you, I'm sure we—" Isla stares down at me with an excited expression, obviously not feeling the same anxieties as me.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not very comfortable getting in the car with strangers. The stories of today... You can't trust anyone," I cut off Isla and laugh nervously. I know these people are the only people who have driven down this road for hours, and they could be our only hope, but I have to play it somewhat safe.

"There are some crazies out in the world today," Mr. Golden laughs. "I assure you, we just want to lend a hand."

"C'mon, Dee, don't be so harsh." Isla nudges my hip jokingly. I know she is more of a so-called 'free spirit' than I am, but I've also noticed the eyes she's been making with the tall blonde man.

"Guys, how about we all introduce ourselves so we aren't such strangers anymore." When he speaks it seems to break the rest of them out of some sort of trance.

"I'm Fiona," the red-headed woman speaks first, her smile not reaching her eyes.

"I'm Finneas," the ginger man speaks beside her and I have to wonder if they are siblings or not.

"I'm Magdalen, you can call me Maggie," the darker woman gleams as she speaks, even reaching out to shake our hands politely.

"I'm Atticus," the blonde man doesn't even crack a smile as he holds his head high.

My attention falls back on the golden boy, who's smile of compassion sends pangs to my heart. "My name is Harry."

He takes a step closer to us, reaching out his hand for us to shake. When Isla places her hand in his, she tells him her name and he nods with a tight lipped smile. When he moves over to me, I place my hand into his and he uses both of his hands to encapsulate mine.

"I'm Eden," my voice comes out frail and breathy.

Harry's smile falters for a second, if I blinked I would've missed it. Now, with a subtle crease between his eyebrows, his eyes search for something in mine—dancing back and forth. His smile only grows as he continues to bore his eyes into mine, almost like he's watching a film reel of my life through them. A flicker almost like recognition. Only then do I notice that he is still holding onto my hand. My eyes flick to the contact and that seems to break him out of his spell. He drops his hands to his side quickly.

"Well now that we're all acquainted, how about that lift?"

𖦹

taglist: @tpwkmr @alex-voiddome @butdaddyiloveh1m @fratboyzayn @jlovescherry

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whousestypewriters · 1 year ago

Text

friends till the end right? - k.a x reader

pairing: kai azer x reader

requested: yes / no

warnings: swearing

a/n: im living off of these crumbs until i get my hands on reckless fr. this'll be he last fic queued/posted until i get back lovelies. hope you enjoy mwah <33

taglist: @nqds, @lxvebelle, @reminiscentreader, @off-to-the-r4ces, @ecliphttlunar

@tornqdowarnings

kai azer was your friend.

your bestfriend.

you grew up together, he, just one week older than you basically being your guide into life. you both know he's full of shit and that he just likes to brag that he's older.

you've been by his side for all of it. the awful way edric treated him - which you still want to shove a dagger up edric's ass for by the way - to sneaking into the kitchen and eating lemon tarts with him.

you're his other half and he's yours.

he was by your side when your parents died, never once leaving you during those awful days. he pulled you out of your slump and brought you back to life.

so yeah....

you were close.

and although you were possibly the closets friends in ilya. you wanted more. you wanted to be the girl he looked at in every room the girl who he would recognise anywhere. you wanted to be his girl.

but that wasn't happening anytime soon. it was mere delusional thinking.

"hey, darling," kai's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "you just gonna lie there all day?"

sighing you open your eyes and look up to kai. "it is rather comfy," you grumble at him. shutting your eyes and the image of kai and the colorful morning sky out.

"well its not my fault you tripped mid-spar."

"EXCUSE ME?" you practically fly up off the ground in anger. "I DID NOT TRIP YOU LITTLE SHIT-" you yell before kai cuts you off with a hand to your mouth.

"hush, you don't want to wake the entire kingdom with your loud ass mouth, you'd think you were a damn amplifier not tele."

you scoff and shove him back, causing him to stumble a little. "i'm going to murder you in your sleep."

"i get to look at your pretty face while dying? thats the greatest gift," kai smirks at you before shoving you back into a nearby tree, "and that was payback for shoving me."

"you deserved my shove. I didn't deserve yours," you huff leaning against the tree while kai looked at you from a few feet away. "what?" you ask. "do i have something on my face? if its dirt im blaming you, i've got lessons all morning after this."

he had an indecipherable look on his face. it only added to your confusion when he stepped closer, his body crowding yours the heat rolling off his skin and onto yours. still looking at you strangely he raises his hand slowly moving towards your face.

"what are you doing?" you meant it to sound questioning and stern but it just came out all breathy and high pitched.

his hand brushed you cheek as he raised it and pulled a twig from your hair. "you had something in your hair," his voice was soft and the moment crackled between the two of you.

there was no reason for you two to be standing that close. it was purely choice. and when kai's head dipped a little you almost gasped at how close you two were.

this was it, oh my god, you were getting your moment? that delusion was turning into a reality.

your breaths mingled together and you're ninety percent sure when kai's hand cupped your cheek and the other grabbed your waist you died a little inside - in the good way.

this was it.

"good morning guys!" a voice came from the other side of the training grounds as kitt strolled leisurely into the area.

kai stepped back from you quickly and headed over to chat with his brother but not before sending you a look that made you want to grin like a school girl.

maybe those delusions weren't so wrong after all.

#౨ৎ : my works .ᐟ #powerless #reckless #kai azer #malakai azer #kai azer x you #kai azer x y/n #kai azer x reader #kai azer x fem!reader #kai azer x fem!y/n #powerless lauren roberts

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 1 year ago

Text

Rainy days

Will I edit this now that I’m posting it here? NOPE

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Word Count: Hmmm I don't even remember when I wrote this

Notes: Man we aint gon talk about when I'm posting this

Today was a shit day. Brad from accounting spilled his coffee on your brand new white shirt, your boss called you in to tell you the deadline had been moved up a week and a half, there was no toilet paper in the bathroom and to top it off you’d grabbed the wrong lunch that morning and ended up with a leftover container of plain spaghetti noodles instead of your onigiri you’d make last night.

“This day literally could not get worse. I truly don’t think it could like what could actually happen” You grumbled as you got into your car, slamming the door shut. You pushed the break and hit the button.

Nothing.

You pushed the break and the button again.

Nothing.

Famous last words as they say.

“Are you shitting me!?!?” You screamed at the top of your lungs, you kicked your feet and slammed your hands into the steering wheel

“What did I do! What did I possibly do to deserve any of this!” You screamed to no one as you sobbed in your car. Was it a bit dramatic? Yes. Did the sky decide to just open the flood gates at that exact moment? Also Yes.

You stared blankly at the rain, watching it stream down the windows. It was heavy and unforgiving as thunder cracked above you, you looked down at the heels on your feet, your brand new light pink ones. The weatherman said it was supposed to be a sunny fall day. It was supposed to nice and cool and dry. Comfortable even.

You laid your head on the steering wheel and just sat there, listening to the rain fall. If you weren’t so broken it would have been peaceful. You tried the button one more time and it still wouldn’t come on.

You reached blindly for your phone and grabbed it, punching the favorites button and holding it up to your ear.

“Hey Doll, are you on your way home yet?”

You sniffled and shook your head, not that Bucky could see you.

His tone changed quickly to worry “Y/N? Where are you?” You heard his voice a little further away, he was already searching for your location.

“You’re still at work? You got off 20 minutes ago is everything okay?” You can hear him moving around knowing he’s already ready to head out of the door and take out anyone he needs to.

“Can you guys please come pick me up.” Your voice is wobbly and small “My car broke down in the parking lot. I’m okay I’m safe I just need you to come get me.”

“We’re already in the car, we’ll be there in…what seven? Eight minutes?”

You hear Steve’s voice “Like seven”

“Yeah seven minutes okay? Keep the doors locked and stay alert”

You smirked a bit. Your workplace was 15 minutes from the house. 22 ish if the lights were in a mood. “I promise I will, see you soon.”

Steve and Bucky arrived in exactly seven minutes. You heard the tail end of Steve’s conversation as they approached the car, umbrella’s in hand. “Okay we’ll wait… thanks for the lights” Tony was a sweetheart sometimes. Bucky unlocked the doors and opened your side up, he leaned against it as he held an umbrella.

“Your escorts have arrived” he smiles a bit at you. Steve is behind him frowning, you know you look awful right now your makeup ruined your shirt ruined. But it’s not really meaning much now that they’re here. Bucky unbuckles your seatbelt for you and holds open his arms.

“C’mere doll..” his voice is soft as he hugs you to his chest, Steve comes around and squishes you between the two of them.

“You’re okay baby girl we’re here now”

You cry into Bucky’s chest as they hold you, Steve pulls you away and guides you to their car, opening the door for you. Tony had finally taken away Steve’s tiny ass car privileges. He bought him a truck fit for two super soldiers and created an entire course for Steve to practice driving with it. You remember relaxing with Pepper in lawn chairs while sipping on drinks as Tony had a whole aneurysm teaching him to drive. Bucky sat in the tailgate occasionally breaking up fights but sipping on his own drink as well.

Steve got in the truck after you, pulling you into his lap and holding you tightly to his chest, you melted into his ridiculously comfy chest, his large pecks plush and comforting. He chuckled and stroked your hair, kissing your head.

“You warm enough? Do we need to turn on the heat?”

“Trust me I do not need the heat with you furnaces in here”

Bucky started up the truck and turned on his music, something soft, something he’d play often when you couldn’t sleep. You never knew what it was but it was nice, something from another time.

“Tony should be here any minute now and then we can leave” Steve says as he puts his legs up, cradling you against his body. You lay there for a bit, still sniffling against Steve’s chest. He chuckles as he keeps stroking your hair

“Come on beautiful, it’ll be okay.”

It’s quiet for a bit as you all wait, Bucky and Steve making light conversation and you chiming in a couple times but not really saying much. They’re a little worried, they know it was just a bad day but they can’t help it.

Tony arrives 15 minutes later all ready to take your car away and work it over and see what happened. Bucky gets out and handles everything for you. The car gets loaded onto a truck and taken away to his workshop. Tony reassures you from his own car that he’ll send a car for you first thing in the morning and that you’ve been called out of work for the next week. You look out of the window and smile

“Tony thanks really but I can’t be out that long I have a project to work on and-“

Tony puts his hand up “Don’t worry I’ll have someone else on that tomorrow. I bought the company! You just rest up kid!”

Your mouth drops and before you can even protest he speeds away and Steve yanks you back down into his lap. Bucky starts up the truck and starts on his way, driving the three of you back to your shared apartment.

Once back home Bucky starts a hot shower for you and Steve goes into the kitchen immediately. He says he’s got a surprise for you for dinner and to go take a nice long shower. Bucky surprisingly keeps his hands to himself, making sure you’re nice and clean and taken care of, giving you soft kisses and little caresses.

“I know what’ll make you feel better” Bucky comes up behind you as you’re putting your hair serum in, he kisses your bare shoulders softly and puts his arms around you, watching you comb your fingers through your hair.

“What’s that?” You ask as you look at him in the mirror. He pulls open one of the drawers in front of you and takes a bottle of lube out. Your eyes go wide as he leads you into the bedroom, letting your towel drop.

“I know you’re tired and hungry so while Steve is cooking for you let’s just cuddle okay?” He pushes you back on the bed carefully

“Why do we need that?” You point at the bottle “for cuddling”

“Because it’s your favorite kind of cuddling.” He jokes as he takes off his boxers he’d put on when he went to see if Steve needed help, you bite your lip as you look at him, trying to keep your eyes on his. He smirks as he pours lube into his hand, coating his cock in it as he rubs it slowly. You drool a bit as he gets nice and hard, his cock glistening in the light. You squeeze your thighs together and he leans down, giving you a kiss as he eases you onto your back. He pours more lube onto his fingers and spreads your lips, rubbing it up and down teasing you before carefully sinking his fingers in, they go in easily and your hips buck. He chuckles as you fuck your self on his fingers, moaning softly as you tighten that coil in your belly, winding it up tighter and tighter. His thumb rubs your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out and you moan louder, your hips losing control as you cum over his fingers, he keeps pumping you through your orgasm, grinning wickedly as he watches the way your body reacts to his fingers

“Good girl, cum for me so I can make sure you’re wet enough.” He praises as you lay there, your body jello, your legs trembling. He pulls you up on the bed so your head is on the pillows. He strokes himself a few more times and gets on the bed with you, kissing your hair. He wipes his hands on a napkin from the bed and throws it into the trash can

“Nice shot” you giggle and he smiles, adjusting your body again so you’re facing him. He grabs your leg, lifting it up and positions himself between your legs, his head teasing your entrance as he pushes into you. You let out a long, low moan as he fills you to the hilt. He puts your leg back down and you adjust yourself a bit, your head nuzzled into his neck.

“Thanks Doll” he whispers in your ear as he pulls a blanket over the two of you and wraps his arms around you. You’re practically purring as he rubs your back while kissing your head. “We can stay just like this. You take a nap, you deserve it.

“You want to stay l-like this?” You blush as your cunt squeezes around his cock. He nods as he groans softly, adjusting himself again.

“You need a nap sugar and I know this always makes you feel better… let me do this for you”

“Oh and this has nothing to do with how it makes you feel?” You smirk as you snuggle into him again, closing your eyes.

“I didn’t say it didn’t make me feel amazing” he chuckles, pushing his long hair back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sigh “what’s there to talk about? Today was shit. I can’t believe Brad wasn’t looking where he was going he never looks where he’s going! A-and he ruined that new shirt you and Steve got me I can’t stand that asshole! I have absolutely no idea what the hell is wrong with my car-“

“Tony’s handling that” He interrupts and you smile

“Do I need to pick the color?”

“Yes and if you’d like a specific model let him know.” He chuckles as you roll your eyes, adjusting again. You move your hips a little, rolling them on his cock and he looks at you, raising his eyebrow

“He doesn’t have to do that… I can just get it fixed.” You ignore the look he’s giving you and keep gently rolling your hips.

“It’s not often an Avenger gets a happy ending Y/N… let alone two. Let him take care of you. You know how much he loves you”

You run your fingers through his fluffy hair and smile “Maybe we can invite him and Pepper over sometime for dinner”

Bucky nods, kissing your neck gently. “Yeah I think he’d like that..” He moans in your ear as you keep moving your hips on his cock, it’s not enough to make him cum but it’s enough to keep him nice and hard inside you. You feel him, warm and thick, filling up your insides. You can feel the way your tight hole stretches around him, his balls pressed against you he’s so deep. They’re so full and firm against you, you can’t help but dream about them exploding inside you, breeding your tight cunt like he loves to do.

“Are you feeling any better?” Bucky asks, his voice husky as you reach down to rub his balls between your legs. Your breath hitches as you feel them

“Y-yeah I think I am”

You're just starting to massage his balls when there’s a knock at the door. Steve stands in the doorway, in just an apron, and your mouth drops wide open.

“S-Steve?” Your voice cuts out

“I thought it would cheer you up!” He grins widely as he brings a tray into the bedroom. Bucky pulls out sighing loudly and you whine as you sit up without him. He sits up and picks your waist up, using the metal arm, it sends a chill through your hot body and sits you right back down on his cock. You cry out and he chuckles, holding your hips in place.

“I hope you’re hungry, I made lasagna” he sets the tray in front of you and Bucky but neither of you can concentrate on anything but him. God that man’s ass was something else. You can practically feel Bucky throbbing inside you at the sight of him, you’re both drooling over him.

“I think I’m hungry for something else” You mumble and Bucky nods against your shoulder

“Definitely hungry for something else”

#steve x bucky x reader #bucky barnes #rhys writes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #smut #mcu smut #words by rhys

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dance-on-the-moonlight · 8 months ago

Text

"stupid, emotional, obsessive little me" | M.R.

➵ summary: you're in love with your best friend, and he doesn't know it.

➵ pairing: mattheo riddle × fem!best friend

➵ warnings: angst, unrequited feelings, 1st pov, spelling mistakes

➵ song i'd like to imagine was played is solas

➵ masterlist

part one | part two

I am not beautiful, but I could be.

If I changed my hair, or had darker skin, if my hair wasn't unruly and bleached, if my eyes weren't a weird shade between green and blue, they almost looked grey, if my nose wasn't as big and nostrils as wide, or my lips big and dry and if my teeth weren't small or if my gums didn't show when I smiled.

Maybe if I looked like her I'd be beautiful.

But comparing is a shit thing to do, a bad virtue she had and couldn't rid herself off of, so instead of sulking and watching him whisper sweet nothings to the pretty girl, something that makes her quietly laugh, she turn her gaze towards the parchment in front of her. A blank page watched back, a few splotches of ink dropped from her quill that trembled slightly in her hand.

I am so failing at History of Magic if I don't start, at least, taking notes. I sighed deeply, sneaking a look at Hermione's paper to see her page already filled completely. Discreetly leaning in towards her I tried to copy her notes, thankfully she didn't say anything and just scoffed before resuming her writing.

My notes came out completely sloppy and messy, like they always did, but with the ink droplets it was completely illegible. I pursed my lips before ripping the parchment and standing up along with the rest of the students as the class ended.

Catching up to my friends, I wave to Hermione as she goes to find the rest of the Golden Trio. Theo and Enzo were bickering about something as we piled in the Great Hall, the chatter of other students went unnoticed to me as my thoughts swirled in my head. I sat on the bench, throwing my bag next to me, elbows on the table as I rest my head on my palms.

"What's up your ass today, Y/N?", Theo nudged me with his shoulder. "I'm failing History and the school year hasn't ever properly started." Not entirely a lie, but still not the whole truth.

Not sure how would it sound if I said that what bothers me is the fact my best friend already has a girl and it's only been a week since the school year started. But it's not like it's a surprise, really.

Theo's hand found it's way across my shoulders, pulling me into him as he chuckled. "No worries, we'll fail together, that way summer school won't be as lonely." I snort, slapping my hand across his chest.

"Why are we talking about summer school already?", my body went rigid at sound, every muscle in my body freezing, only hoping Theo doesn't notice. Mattheo moved my bag gently on the floor before sitting next to me, his body angled towards us as he leaned a bit to get a closer look at us. A scarred brow lifted as his eyes danced between Theo and me. Theo squeezed me gently before removing his hand, a teasing smile on his lips.

"We just like to make plans in advance, isn't that right, principesa?" I roll my eyes at the nickname, he rarely uses it. Mattheo hummed, averting his gaze from us.

I was looking through the window as the rain slowly fell from the sky. A few of the students that were outside ran inside as fast as they could as to not get wet. Eyes gliding over to the pair that stayed behind, slowly dancing in the rain, not caring who saw or how wet they'll get.

My heart was gripped by two hands, crushed and twisted, a boulder of emotions pressed on my chest. It pushed and pushed on my lungs until it felt like I couldn't breathe. I tried to take a breath, but a rope around my neck tightened with every attempt.

I felt like I was drowning.

I raised my wand, my heart burning with jealousy at something I'll never have. A simple spell I learned last year with Hermione, made the rain stop in it's tracks mid air. The pair halted with their dancing, with giggles I swear I could hear all the way up here, they ran inside.

When i couldn't see them anymore the rain fell again with the flick of my wand, but my heart still burned.

Shaking my head, I made the rest of the trek towards the Astronomy tower, it was cold up here. My teeth clenched as the wind whipped my hair, stray raindrops acted as the tears I refused to let flow down my cheeks.

In the far left corner sat and old piano, it had a propped leg by some folded parchment, the chair squeaked under my weight and the tiles were out of tune. Nobody really knows how did an old piano end up here or why it was still here. There were speculations of course, but they were nothing more than that.

I like to tell myself it was left here for me.

With trembling fingers I played a song of my heart, an out of tune beat just like the piano tiles. My fingers were red, and my nose runny by the time I heard his voice.

"I didn't hear you play since last summer." His voice blended in with the thunder that hid the sound of me hitting the wrong key. My body trembled, despite the warm cloak that he draped over my shoulders. Eyes never straying from the dirty keys I let out a breath, thankful for the rain that left my cheeks damp.

"Couldn't sleep?", I decide on saying, my voice coming out hoarse and wrong. "Yeah." His voice sounded broken, like the last key, in the far right that I needed to finish the song. Fingers hovering over it for a moment before I rested my hands in my lap.

I want to ask him of what he dreamt, which nightmare plagued his mind now; even if I knew all of them by now. Instead I scooted on the creaking chair, making space for him which he gladly accepts. I rub my hands together, feeling the bite from the cold now that the son is over, his hand twitches as if he's gonna reach for me, but instead he puts it in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

He took a deep breath, smoke whirling around us, carried by the wind as my eyes trace a raindrop that follows the slope of his cheek. Brown eyes find mind, a small smile on his lips and I blink away the fog in my mind. His curls are all over the place and I have to force myself to not reach up and run my hand through them. It's like he hears my thoughts as his fingers brush through his curls, the same hand drapes over my shoulders pulling me closer to him.

My lungs were crushed by the weight of my unspoken words. But I'd rather choke on them than loose what I have here. The only sound I could hear, is the one I can't control when he's near, it's the beating of my wild heart.

part 2?

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #slytherin boys #angst #harry potter #mattheo riddle x best friend #unrequited love #unrequited feelings

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the-sin-hole · 5 months ago

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headrush

stanxreader flashfic, 1k words gender neutral, smoking, no warnings apply

+++

“I don’t give a shit what Saturn looks like,” Stan says, trying to sound abrasive, but the smile forming around the unlit cigarette between his lips betrays him. “S’far as I’m concerned what happens up there is nunna my business ‘til some aliens come down here and try to abduct me.”

You’re standing in the yard of the Mystery Shack under a sea-dark sky slathered in bright white pinholes. Stan threw another party at the Shack and most of the cleaning fell to you two. A month ago you’d expect him to order the kids do it. But you’ve watched him soften over the weeks since they came, and tonight he only made them clean up half of all the spilled drinks and tracked-in dust and scattered confetti before allowing them to call it a night. He toothlessly harangued you to stay late and help under the guise of owing him one after letting you drink all the Pitt from his fridge yesterday, but you didn’t need convincing. It was enough just to spend one on one time with him.

After doing a perfectly respectable half-assed cleaning job, the two of you retired to sit on the porch for some well earned smokes. Stan quit for the sake of the kids, but sometimes he can’t help himself from bumming a stray or two from you. You handed him one before he even asked as you stepped outside into the warm summer night air. You were immediately struck by the sky, letting in a small gasp of air at the sight of so many clear stars. You pulled Stan by the crook of his arm into the grass with you and started pointing out the celestial entities you were familiar with. Stan wasn’t looking at any of it. His eyes were fixed on you.

Your voice faltered as you pointed out Saturn, when your eyes darted back to him and found his gaze. It was unreadable. Part of you thought, if you tried really hard, you could see something in that gaze that looked a little soft. The thought made something in your gut writhe.

You broke the eye contact, instead putting the cigarette in your mouth and holding up your lighter to its end. It took a few spins of the flint wheel but it lit, and you pulled in the meager flame, sucking the filter several times in quick succession to let the heat gain purchase before letting the lighter falter. You handed it to Stan, risking regained eye contact and catching his small smile just as he claimed his indifference to the stars.

You snort and roll your eyes at the bold proclamation. “Oh wowwww, mister cool guy here is too big and tough to care about the vast wonder of space, huh?”

“You better believe it,” he replies, tilting his head down to meet the lighter in his hand and shifting the cigarette between his teeth at the front of his mouth. He spins the wheel a couple times to no avail, a little harder each time, furrowing his brow as he repeats his attempts. “What’s space ever done for me, anyway?”

You smile as you pull on your cigarette. He makes a frustrated “Eh” as more clicks of the lighter prove fruitless. His eyes dart up and he looks at you through his thick grey brows— his gaze is once again unreadable, but it sends something through you. He’s been doing that to you a lot, lately. Just being close to him can make your heart beat fast, something that at first was highly frustrating, but now you can’t help yourself from chasing the small highs, each casual graze against his arm or lingering eye contact feeling just as good as a deep inhale of fiberglass and nicotine.

You’re about to interrupt your current inhale to ask why he’s looking at you when his eyes dart down to your lips.

He reaches a hand up and lightly grabs your jaw, four fingers on one side, thumb on the other. You feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. Heat radiates from that gut punch through your entire body in an instant. The two fingers you had gently resting on either side of the filter in your mouth twitch, almost flinging the cigarette out of your mouth entirely. His eyes are cast down, not looking you in the face, which you’re grateful for, as you’re sure you look ridiculous. You can feel your eyes widening, the heat flooding your face.

Stan leans in. The smoke you just inhaled is now caught swirling in your lungs as you hold your breath. He positions the tip of his cigarette to yours, the fingers grasping your jaw tightening just a little bit to make sure you don’t throw off the alignment. He purses his lips and draws in the heat, igniting it. He could pull away now, if he wanted. But he draws just a few more times. After seconds that stretch into an eon he slowly leans back. He leaves the fingers on your jaw for just a moment longer than he needs to. Just long enough to send another punch to your gut.

His hand finally leaves you, moving to the filter in his mouth, ready to take it once he’s finished his first long drag. He straightens up and finally meets your eyes once again. You’re still holding your breath. He removes the cigarette from his lips and exhales through his nose, the smoke coming out in great furls. You can see a slight smile behind the smokescreen as he says,

“Space is for suckers. I got everything I need right down here.”

You finally pull the filter from your mouth. His eyes dart down quickly to watch you let out a deep exhale, smoke spilling from your lips as they twist into a smile. The windless night lets the smoke hang in the air between you, small plumes lazily intertwining. When his eyes find yours again, there’s no mistaking it. His gaze is soft.

#hi its me again getting back to my roots: spending like a thousand words describing a ten second event !!!#stanley pines x reader #stanley pines #sinposts #sinwrites #stan pines x reader #not smut

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needtotouchsomegrass · 1 year ago

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𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 / 𝟏𝟖+

There’s not much that could defeat Gojo Satoru. Given the fact that he is the strongest. But seeing you - his best friend’s little sister - dancing in a tight dress might be his biggest weakness.

𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 / 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

“Gojo you need to come too”, that’s where it all had started. You inviting him to your birthday party. The reason for his current suffering. But how could he have possibly declined? He’s known you since you were a little girl building castles in sand.

There you are now, in your little tight dress, surrounded by your friends on the dance floor. The dress perfectly highlighting your body’s curves. From your chest, down your waistline, cupping your ass beautifully.

Gojo sighs. It’s a delightful sight, though it shouldn’t be in the first place. You are still his best friend’s little sister - off limits to him.

“Aren’t you gonna dance”, your brother asks plopping down next to him. “Nah I’m a little sore from hitting the gym earlier today.” What a lame excuse. “Pff that’s never stopped you before. Are you getting old or what ?” Satoru chuckles over his friend’s comment.

“Nah never.” The two of them laugh.

“You know, y/n really insisted on you being here tonight. She wouldn’t shut up about it this entire week leading up to today.” Warmth spreads in Gojo’s chest. You had been mocking him for a life time before you started to show your gratitude towards him.

He had been like a second big brother to you. Someone who stood up for you and made sure you were okay. Needless to say that Gojo was good at doing such things.

“No really man, what’s up? You seem so absent today.”

Shit. Is it that noticeable?

He pulls his eyes off of your hips working from side to side on the dance floor.

“Who’s in your mind”, your brother asks smirking. Your sister. Y/n. The girl I’ve known for all of her life.

“No one. What makes you think that?” His friend shrugs. “I don’t know….you’re not dancing, didn’t make a move on dancing with y/n either. Nor have you talked much tonight.”

Gojo sighs. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired from work.” “Man if you’re afraid y/n might get upset about you having a girl, don’t worry. I think she’s having a thing with that Jeremy guy over there”, he points at a tall blonde guy, who’s dancing close to you. Too close for Satoru’s liking, if he was being honest with himself.

Your brother’s words stung in his chest.

“It’s - I’m not seeing anyone”, he admits. “My my, the gojo isn’t seeing anyone at the moment.”

He shakes his head, annoyed by the mocking tone in his friend’s voice.

“I think I’ll get some fresh air real quick.” His friend nods before joining the others on the dance floor.

Gojo passes them heading out. The sky illuminated by a few stars he stands outside the club, trying to find a way of handling this.

Love is the worst curse of all. Desires even worse. How would he execute that?

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, frustration growing inside him.

What should he do about this matter? About his feelings towards you. His growing boner from looking at you.

“This is so fucked up”, he mutters beneath his breath.

“Hey, are you alright out here”, you say making your way to him. “Oh yeah, just needed to get some air.” You nod. “I thought you were gonna leave, so I wanted to check on you”, you admit nervously playing with your hair.

“Y/n I wouldn’t just leave. I’d let you know. You know.” You nod again. Gojo is quite the straight-forward person. He’d let you know when you look like shit or when to better not bother him.

You frown concerned. Something’s off today. Maybe he’s feeling out of place. He shouldn’t though.

You nudge his arm with your elbow, meeting his blue eyes. You’ve always thought that it’s an insane shade of blue. Beautiful.

“What’s wrong, you don’t seem like yourself today.”

You step in front of him, trying to get him to look at you.

“Satoru?” He sighs.

What’s that expression on his face? Is he alright?

“It’s you”, he mumbles. “What”, you ask not really understanding the meaning of this.

He finally looks up, meeting your gaze.

“It’s you. The reason why I’m acting like this. It’s your fault.” You frown in confusion. This doesn’t make any sense.

“How could this be my fault?” He laughs frustrated. “I like you…..y/n.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “I know I shouldn’t because I’ve see you grow up like your brother himself but I - I can’t stop it. Trust me I tried. It never worked out. I want you.”

He‘s fidgeting with his hands nervously, eyes everywhere else. He’s actually losing it.

You take his hand in yours giving it a soft squeeze, gaining his attention.

“Toru”, you chuckle eyes dropping down to his lips. Your heart beats in your throat making it impossible to speak. “Hm?”

Your hand cups his cheek, feeling that well shaped jaw beneath.

Without giving yourself a second to rethink you pull him into you, your lips meeting his in a wild kiss.

He responses to your moves. Strong hands sliding around your waist, pressing you against his chest. You feel each muscle of his sculptured body - you had seen during summer break - beneath the fabric of his shirt.

His hands squeeze your ass softly, having you moan in his mouth.

Gazes locked both of you try to regain the ability to breathe stable after breaking apart.

Gojo swallows. He had imagined what if would feel like to hold you, kiss you and …..make you his countless of times.

“Maybe we should head somewhere else”, he suggests cheeks flushed.

Could you really get away with this? It’s your birthday after all, your friends and brother came for you.

“I can’t just leave Toru”, you sigh. “I know we - my car’s not far.”

You chuckle by the way he’s fidgeting around nervously.

The two of you head to his car, continuing that make out sesh there.

You’re placed in his lap, hands running through his hair while he’s leaving bruises all over you neck, his waist rolling up to meet yours every now and then.

His eyes wander up and down your body in such ease - taking in the tiniest detail.

“This damn dress”, he whispers more to himself before pushing it up your legs, revealing your black lace underwear.

You blush. This man had seen you growing up but this, this was different. More intimate than anything else the two of you had done.

You push his face away with your palm.

“Stop staring.” He laughs. “I’m not staring, I’m admiring. That’s something else love.”

You try your best to hide the smile on you face.

Within one swift move he has you pressed against his chest, back arched, his finger buried inside you.

“Hmmm that’s alright”, he mumbles against your skin. The sensation of him licking and then sucking your sensitive skin, has you going crazy.

His hard length growing beneath you only worsens your growing desire for more. More of him.

You lean down to his ear. His heart hammering in his chest the same way yours does.

“Toru I need you”, you whisper hearing him swallow at your words.

You grind against him gaining a deep groan coming from his mouth.

You repeat the same move but this time a bit slower. Another groan. You smile enjoying to see him behave like that.

His hands sneak in between the two of you while he’s working his way down your throat and neck again. You gasp feeling his tip brush your entrance.

The two of you lock eyes. If we do this now, there’s no turning back.

You give him a nod, placing a quick kiss on his reddish cheek.

Gojo Lifts your hips for a short second before pushing himself past your wet folds.

Arms wrapped around his neck you pull him close to your chest. “Holy fuck”, you breathe feeling him go deeper and deeper until he’s completely filling you up.

Gojo wipes a tear of your face as he waits for you to adjust to him. Mumbling comforting words.

“You’re doing great love.” You chuckle.

You take a deep breath, the pain having faded, before you start moving your hips up and down his length.

“Ugh fuck”, Gojo moans head leaned against the headrest of the driver’s seat.

His hands cup your ass cheeks, giving them a soft squeeze as you start to go faster.

The air gets thicker around the two of you.

“Toru I ah -“, you moan feeling yourself get closer to your high. A tingling feeling building up in the pit of your stomach each time his length is hitting the spot that’s driving you insane.

Your legs shake at the sudden pressure Gojo is causing on your clit, his thumb rubbing circles on you.

Eyes locked on you, smirk in his plump, red lips, he keeps torturing your other sweet spot.

“Cum for me princess.”

He starts to move his hips upwards in sync to your movements hitting your g-spot while rubbing your clit. It doesn’t take long until that kind of penetration is too much for your body to handle.

You start to tighten around him, legs shaking, as you dig your nails into the skin of his neck.

A groan rumbles through him as he continues to thrust into you. Slow and deep.

Only a few seconds later his head is leaning against your collarbone, his length twitching inside you.

He places a soft kiss on your chest as he holds you close still buried inside you. You run your hands through his hair.

It was just the two of you in that moment.

“We’ll sort things out once we’re more sober”, you laugh gaining a humming “hmm” from him in response.

You smile placing a soft kiss on his temple.

~ the end ~

⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ♡

#fanfiction #fanfic #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #fluff #jjk fluff

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theaveragepsychoticbitch · 2 years ago

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Idk if the formatting will stay corrupted when I post this ask but it was mad regular when it was just sitting in my inbox?? but uh, Gods bless. I dont think I'm all that good at sub reader, and I may be ass at writing insecurities as I gotta be careful not to trigger myself lol, but I am gonna enjoy writing this thanks for requesting me beautiful (Also, I'm not much of a daddy person but I LOVE Master kinks.)

A/N: OMFG TUMBLR FUCKEF AND I HAD TO DELETE AND REWRITE EVERYTHINGGGG

I proofread like half of it yall imma do the rest in a couple days💀✋🏾

Fem!Sub!Insecure!Reader x Soft Dom Odin || NSFW lol || Breeding kink, Master/Slave use (ion know too much bout that dynamic lmao so you gon have to bare wit me), insecurities, and raw dogging (my staple)

Odin can't help but notice the slump of your shoulders, persistent ever since the other day. You'd gone to see Aphrodite for the first time, wanting to greet the entire greek pantheon personally upon your introduction as his wife. You left all smiles and laughter, yet despite saying it'd gone well, you possessed an air of sadness about you, and it's lingered throughout the week.

You sigh again, pulling him from his pondering. Your seat in the windowsill is backed by a view of the gray sky, ice cold rain pounding the glass. You have to be cold.

You jump upon finding your husband behind you, wrapping you lovingly in a thick blanket. The expression on his face is uncharacteristically soft, and in your heart you know he loves you... but why?

Why does he love you, when women as beautiful as Aphrodite exist? The lowest ranking goddesses glow with divinity, an inhuman shine to their very aura that you could never recreate. When you entered that room, you'd never felt more mortal. You were drawn to them, their beauty and grace calling out to you, leaving you with no choice but to gaze in awe.

You think you feel tears on your waterline.

How could he truly love you when surrounded by women like that?

"Women like that?"

You blink, feeling the warm tears slide down your cheeks as your face heats up. You didn't mean to say that aloud, by the gods. But it's too late now, and his simple question and deadpan face have broken the dams you worked so hard to maintain all week.

"Women like that! Like Aphrodite, like the other goddesses. They're beautiful my love, beautiful in a way I can't compare."

He tries to speak, but you rush over him, the snot filling your nose choking your speech and corrupting your voice. "How can you caress my scars when presented with unblemished skin? Look me in my eyes when theirs sparkle with such power? How can you even stand my voice! The goddesses of this forsaken place sound as lovely and hypnotic as sirens, even when their screeching at the top of their damned lungs!"

You cough, gasping for air. You hadn't taken a breath in that entire monologue. Your throat hurts from screaming, and at some point, you'd stood up and thrown away the cover he gave you. The cold air from the window spread goosebumps across your back, down your legs and arms. But it was fear that made you tremble, fear he'd see the logic in your words and leave you in the dust. Fear you'd walk the palace halls one day, haunted by the sounds of pleasure your husband brings out of other women, like so many wives here in Valhalla do now.

Your coughing dies out and leaves nothing but silence. Even your sniffling is quieted under his stare. The rain fades away and you find you can't even breathe as you wait for his word.

"I walk among these women everyday, yet you are the one I've chosen. Does that alone not set you apart from them?"

You blink at his tone– darkened with an unknown emotion, yet somehow still soft on your ears. His hand is on the small of your back, nudging you closer. The other cups your cheek.

"If you think yourself to be in a sea of gold, then you must be the diamond of the bunch. In my eyes, you shine brighter in your mortality then any divine being could ever hope to. Your scars are sweet against my lips, and your eyes as bright as the stars. Your voice is the one thing I bow to, my love, your beauty the one thing I praise."

It's silent again when he finishes, but you hear your heart breaking. Breaking for yourself, because how could you have been so blind? To ever in a million years think this man could do anything other than love you...

He chuckles, kissing your ear. "Say my name, Beloved."

Chaste kisses are placed softly about your face. Your forehead, your neck, your cheeks. And all the while you're crying, you love this man so much. "Odin..."

You try to pull back but find he's holding you to his chest. "Odin?"

"My name."

You blink, then smile. "Baby?"

He smiles into your neck, and you think he's having a rare cute moment. "Not that one."

Your smile takes on a confused twist.

Then, it hits you.

He chuckles again, this one filled with a bit of sadism.

"...Master?"

"Perfect."

In a show of heavenly strength you're transported from the window to the bed in the blink of an eye. As you sink into the bed, he tops you, fitting himself between your legs like coming home.

Your lips come together in a clash of lust and passion, the chastity of earlier long forgotten. Your hands tangle in his hair as he fondles you through your clothes. You could feel his hard on through his clothes, the familiar press against your heat filling you with... love?

Love... that's exactly what it was. You loved this, loved this treatment, loved to see your ever-quiet, ever-composed husband fall to pieces when he touched you. His stoic persona peeling back to reveal a man so head over heels he'd stomp on his pride in his rush to hump you like a dog in heat.

Hell, when he's fucking you like this, how could you have ever thought he'd leave?

Your right hand leaves his hair to help him tug at your clothes, the left sliding down to feel his muscles rippling under the skin of his back. He's finally gotten your chest bare, and latches onto the first nipple he sees, blindly working at the fabric to reveal the other tit. His battle-roughened fingers graze its peak, then pinch, hard enough to make you gasp and jump.

His tongue drags out similar sounds. Flicking the cute bud, circling it, right before sucking on it like it'd fix all his problems. Your fingers do away with his clothes with practiced motions as your eyes close, arching up into his touch.

You can hear him moaning almost silently as he kisses your chest, and you swear you hear him whisper, "Sweet."

You sigh at the feeling, at your adoration for this man.

He pulls back, and in the low light you admire the creases of his chest, the scars that litter his skin like stars in the sky. One hand parts your legs, spreading you open, admiring the sight of your clit twitching while arousal pours over your asscheeks to stain the sheets below.

His other hand takes your wrist to lay your palm flat over his heart. He's dragging your palm across his torso, over his heaviest scars, while rubbing electrifying circles into your clit. You tear up again as your legs twitch at the direct simulation. Even breathes turn to pants, and you feel your hips trying to rut into his touch. But your eyes never leave his. No, no– you hold his gaze and hone in on the feel of his skin on your hand, on the feel of realization like a new dawn in your mind.

"Do my scars horrify you?"

You can't tell if your tears are from pleasure or pain; the emotional kind. But they're pouring worse than the rain outside now, and you feel your nose getting stuffy again. "Of course not, my love."

He didn't mind the slip up this time. "If these do not cause aversion, how could your own bring you such despair?" Two fingers slipped inside you, and you gasp, fucking down on them instinctively. His thumb speeds up to match the pace of his fingers, and you pull him down into a kiss. His tongue tangles with yours, sucking on it and exploring your mouth. You kiss him back just as hard, running your teeth gently over his lips and tongue in turn.

"You are mine. You alone can see me like this. You alone can look at me like that, kiss me like that. I only want you–"

He smirks, and you think you're on the verge of cumming.

"Afterall, who else can take me so well? Who could look as pretty when I'm filling them up, watching my seed pour from their warmth? Do those goddesses beg like a good girl for me to stuff it back in? Present themselves as a willing slave, to be used until I've had enough? Until I've put a baby in them?"

Your eyes roll, your back arches, and the world turns white as you orgasm on his fingers. Trembles shake you, but big, comforting hands are working you through it so well. You rock into him until he pulls away, and despite the looming threat of overstimulation, you whine at the emptiness.

"Answer me, slave."

"N...no one, Master. No one except... Me."

You can't see it as your eyes are still closed, but he's smiling. Just a little, but it's full of more joy than a kid on Christmas.

A haze sits over your mind. His voice is the only thing you know now.

His thumbs take either side of your labia and spread you further, coaxing the juices out. He stares for a long time, unable to look away right up until his dick is so hard it aches. He forces his eyes to close, fumbling to pull it out. You both sigh when it slaps against your cunt.

"Please, Master... Cum inside me."

He looks up to find your eyes are just barely open and trained on him. His demeanor softens even more somehow, despite how out of place it seems.

"Anything for the prettiest girl in the world."

He slides in, fitting as though you were made for him. Your walls are warm and grip his cock like they missed it, arousal continuing to overflow and drizzle out, just barely able to slip around his cock. He puts a hand to your stomach, pressing down and make both your eyes roll as he feels how deep he is.

He thrusts– once, twice, rocking you, opening you up. From there on his pace builds to something fast and rough. Your nails drag down his back till blood is drawn, the pain fueling his manic humping. Screams of Master! Bounce through the air as he fucks you, drunk on the drag of his cock against your gspot. Your own hand goes down to rub at your throbbing clit as tears cloud your vision to the point of blindness.

When you arch, his hand is at the small of your back, helping you, holding you. Your bodies press together and you can't help but think, 'fuck. He's beautiful.'

You allow your eyes to close as a smile spreads across your face. Your husband is beautiful. So you are, you have to be,

"Beautiful."

Your eyes drift to your husband's face upon hearing his voice. Velvety and deep, and filled with roughness from his approaching orgasm. You laugh, a breathless thing. "You too, Master." You say, batting your lashes.

His chuckle is equally breathless, "'M gonna fill you up now, lovely girl. Take all of me."

An order, one you'd jump to obey.

You joined at the lips in a passionate kiss, your finger working your clit hard as the other hand holds the back of his neck. He holds your legs in a mating press and strokes deep, hitting your deepest spot before releasing inside with a shudder and groan.

You throw your head back as your own body freezes from the force of your orgasm. You're wracked by shudders and hear naught but the sounds of your own broken moans. You can feel him inside of you, spilling his seed for you alone to keep. It's warm, and you can't help but relax at the feeling.

Odin stays inside for long moments after, holding it in, before pulling out. You blink at the sudden loss, to exhausted to do much else. You let yourself be gathered in an embrace, lazily enjoy the soft kisses he presses to your face.

"In the morning, we'll shower. For now, we rest." You hum your affirmation. His arms are tight around your body. You have no choice but to sink into his embrace, sink into a deep, deep sleep.

Right before you drift off, you hear him whisper,

"I love you, my gorgeous wife."

You wish you'd stayed awake long enough to respond back.

-------

A/N: yes yes I know this and many other ask have been sitting in my inbox for months😓writing is hard okay?? And I am very very sleepy all the time. This was fun to write but god did I hate writing the smut. Ion know nothing about master kinks, I use them in my own lil way so the formal way is unknown to me😭but uhh, I hope you enjoyed, and requester if you see this I'm sorry🫶🏾🥹I love you🥲

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #snv odin #snv odin x reader #ror odin #odin x reader #odin #odin smut #ror odin x reader #the psychotics writing

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elliecore4eva · 5 months ago

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"A Jurassic-Sized Surprise"

The garage was packed. Jesse leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, shooting you a knowing smirk. Dina sat on an overturned crate, legs swinging, while Tommy, Maria, Joel, and even Bill and Frank stood in a semi-circle, all waiting for you to speak. You adjusted your glasses dramatically—ones you didn’t need, but they made you look more official—and held up your clipboard.

“Alright, people,” you started, pacing like you were briefing them for a military operation. “We have exactly one week until Ellie’s birthday, and I am not about to half-ass this. We’re going full force. Full fianc�� energy. This will be an event.”

Joel sighed. “Jesus, kid, just tell us what we’re doing.”

You grinned, flipping the clipboard dramatically. “Dinosaur. And. Space. Exhibit.”

There was a pause before Jesse let out a low whistle. “Damn. You really do love her, huh?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Obviously.”

Dina clapped her hands together. “Okay, lovebird, how are we making this happen?”

You pointed at her, eyes gleaming. “I’m glad you asked! Here’s the plan.”

Over the next hour, you laid it all out—how they’d set up the surprise, the excuse they’d use to get Ellie there, and, most importantly, the role each person had to play.

Step One: Get Ellie out of the house for a few hours. Step Two: Convince her she’s just going on a walk. Step Three: Get her to the exhibit without her figuring it out. Step Four: Watch her adorable dino-nerd heart melt.

Easy. Right?

The Walk of Suspicion

Ellie, true to form, was immediately suspicious.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said, walking beside you, hands shoved in her pockets. “Jesse, of all people, sprained his ankle, again, and now I have to go get some special wrap for it?”

“Yep,” you replied, keeping your voice light.

She gave you a slow, knowing look. “And he sent you—not Dina, not Maria—you to take me?”

You nodded, still keeping your expression neutral. “Yep.”

Ellie hummed, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. “And it just so happens to be my birthday?”

“Mhm.”

“Uh-huh.”

You kept walking, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning. Ellie was so onto you.

“I swear,” she continued, her voice teasing, “if this is some elaborate prank where Jesse jumps out and dumps a bucket of water on me, I’m gonna—”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “Babe. Would I ever do something like that to you?”

Ellie deadpanned. “Yes. Absolutely.”

You dramatically wiped away a fake tear. “You wound me.”

She chuckled, bumping her shoulder against yours. “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

You shrugged, looping your arm through hers and squeezing gently. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes, but her lips twitched up. “Fine. But if I get ambushed, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

The Big Reveal

The walk finally led you both to a clearing where the entrance to the exhibit stood, dimly lit under the evening sky. The entire town had helped set it up—hand-painted dinosaur cutouts, strings of lights, and even a section dedicated to space, with old books and illustrations from before the outbreak.

Ellie’s steps slowed as she took it all in, her mouth slightly open in shock.

You leaned in close, lowering your voice just for her.

“Happy birthday, Bear,” you murmured, the new nickname slipping effortlessly from your lips. “Do you like it?”

Ellie turned to you, her expression unreadable for half a second before she grabbed you by the collar and kissed you.

It was the kind of kiss that made your toes curl, that left your fingers gripping onto her jacket like she was the only thing keeping you upright. When she finally pulled away, you were breathless, blinking up at her with dazed eyes.

“I take it that’s a yes?” you teased, grinning.

Ellie chuckled, resting her forehead against yours. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”

Nerd Mode: Activated

The moment Ellie fully processed what was happening, she lit up.

“Oh my god—babe, look at this!” She ran over to a massive replica of a raptor skull, her eyes wide as she traced the shape with her fingers. “Did you know that raptors weren’t actually as big as they show in the movies? They were more like—”

“Chicken-sized, yeah,” Jesse cut in, grinning. “We’ve all heard you rant about this before, dude.”

Ellie flipped him off without looking back.

Joel, watching with his arms crossed, huffed out a laugh. “She’s like a kid in a candy store.”

You beamed. “That’s the point.”

Ellie dragged you to every single part of the exhibit, rattling off facts about dinosaur evolution, asteroids, black holes—things you didn’t fully understand, but god, you loved watching her talk about them.

At one point, she grabbed your hands and pulled you toward the planetarium section, where old constellations were mapped out in the dirt with tiny lights.

“This is Cassiopeia,” she murmured, pointing up at the sky. “It’s one of my favorites.”

You looked up at the stars, then back at her. “You’re my favorite.”

Ellie groaned, shoving her face into your shoulder. “God, you’re so mushy.”

“You love it.”

“…I do.”

Admiration from Afar

As you chatted with Jesse and Dina near a display of ancient artifacts, Ellie stood a few feet away, her gaze fixed on you. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched you laugh, your eyes sparkling with joy. She whispered to herself, barely audible, “God, I love her so much.”

Bill, who had been standing nearby, overheard and nudged Frank. “Did you hear that?”

Frank smirked. “Oh, we heard it alright.”

Bill grinned. “You know, it’s a good thing you’re already engaged. Otherwise, I’d think that was a confession.”

Frank chuckled, elbowing Bill. “I’m just saying, Ellie’s in love. She can barely keep it together.”

Ellie, realizing she’d been caught, flushed a deep red. “Shut up, both of you.”

Bill laughed. “You whispered it. Right in front of us. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, kid.”

Frank teased, “Guess she’s really the one, huh?”

Ellie groaned, trying to hide her face in her hands. “I hate you both.”

You, catching wind of their teasing, turned around with a grin. “What’s this? Ellie having a hard time admitting she’s crazy about me?”

Ellie swatted at you playfully. “Stop it.”

“You know they heard you, right?” Dina said, laughing from across the room.

Ellie’s face went pink as she mumbled something under her breath, clearly embarrassed despite the fact she’d just told the whole town how much she loved you.

Bonfire & Love

The bonfire crackled warmly in the night air, the glow illuminating the faces of everyone gathered around. Jesse and Dina were sitting on a log, passing around some kind of homemade cocktail. Tommy and Maria were off talking by the grill, probably trying to make sense of Joel's latest rambling about "the old world." Ellie, as usual, was sticking close to you, her hand resting comfortably on your knee, but her eyes were darting around suspiciously, like she was waiting for something to go wrong.

“What?” you asked, noticing her fidgeting. “You seem... tense.”

Ellie shrugged, trying to play it off. “Nothing, just... tired, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” you grinned. “That what you call it when you're trying to act normal after gushing over me for the last half hour?”

Ellie immediately turned a shade of pink that could rival a cherry. She shot you a warning look. “Don’t start, okay? They’ll never let it go.”

“Too late,” you said, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You love me, admit it.”

She blushed harder, and at that moment, Bill and Frank, who had been hovering near the firepit with drinks in hand, overheard and shared a glance.

“Did you hear that?” Bill asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

Frank raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, we heard it. Ellie’s been absolutely smitten.”

Ellie groaned, her head dropping into her hands. “God, I hate you both so much.”

Frank smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “I mean, how could you not? She’s basically the human embodiment of sunshine.” He gestured at you, and then to Ellie. “You two are like that cheesy movie where the nerdy girl falls for the jock.”

Bill cackled. “Yeah, and Ellie’s the jock who can’t admit she’s been caught in the act.”

You grinned, leaning in to whisper just loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Ellie whispered earlier that she loved me so much.”

Ellie shot up, covering her face with her hands. “Okay, that’s it! I’m leaving. I’m done.”

Bill was practically wheezing with laughter. “Oh no, you’re staying right here. Can’t go anywhere now, sweetheart.”

Frank raised his cup in mock salute. “To Ellie, everyone! The tough girl who can’t hide her soft spot for her sunshine.”

Ellie buried her face in her hands, a muffled “Stop” escaping from her as she squirmed in her seat. Meanwhile, you just sat back, grinning like the cat who got the cream.

“You should’ve heard her,” Frank continued, nudging Bill. “She was all ‘god, I love her so much.’ You’re telling me you didn’t hear that?”

Ellie looked like she might combust from embarrassment. “I said that in confidence!”

Maria, who had been listening from a distance, couldn’t resist joining in. “You know,” she said with a grin, “you’ve got a whole town here who’s ready to gossip about how whipped you are.”

Ellie groaned, throwing herself back dramatically against the log. “You’re all terrible people.”

Joel, who had been quietly chuckling to himself, added, “I’m just glad she finally admitted it. Took long enough.”

“Shut up, Dad!” Ellie grumbled, still not looking at anyone.

But you couldn’t resist. You leaned in and kissed her cheek, whispering, “I love you too, Bear.”

The whole group let out a collective, exaggerated “Awwww”—even Jesse, who had been quietly sipping his drink, looked like he was about to burst out in laughter.

Ellie was now bright red, clearly trying to look anywhere but at the crowd of people enjoying her very public meltdown.

“You know,” Bill mused, taking a long swig of his drink, “I never thought I’d live to see the day when Ellie Williams turned into a walking romance novel.”

Frank nodded sagely, grinning. “She’s like that secret softie who just needed the right person to... you know, turn her into a sap.”

Ellie groaned loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I swear to god, if I hear one more thing—”

But before she could finish, you slid closer to her, resting your head on her shoulder. “Oh, come on. You love it when they tease you,” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.

Ellie exhaled sharply, but when she glanced at you, her gaze softened. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Bunny.”

You grinned, giving her a teasing kiss on the cheek. “Oh, I know.”

Frank leaned in from the other side, pretending to act serious. “We’ve all seen it now. Ellie’s whipped. I mean, how many times do we have to hear her say she loves you today before we start counting?”

Ellie shot a death glare his way, but even Bill couldn’t hold it in anymore. He started laughing, slapping his knee. “I can’t breathe.”

Ellie finally gave up, leaning her head against yours with a soft sigh. “I hate all of you,” she muttered, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Maria chimed in with a sly smile, “Just admit it, Ellie. You’re not fooling anyone. You’re absolutely crazy about her.”

Ellie looked up at you, meeting your gaze for a moment before shaking her head with a fond, exasperated smile. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “I am. And I’m not even sorry about it.”

The group erupted into teasing cheers, and Ellie just buried her face in your neck, mumbling something about never living this down.

But despite all the teasing and the embarrassment, you could see the softness in her eyes—she was just as in love as you were.

And as the flames of the bonfire flickered around you, you both knew this night would go down as one of those perfect memories that would stick with you forever.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams series #fem!reader #fanfics #ellie x sunshine

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writeforfandoms · 10 months ago

Text

Fast Car 3

Find my Simon Riley masterlist

The end of the last planned fic for the zombie au! Not to say I will never write more, because who knows...

You start to find a new normal in this town. It's... different. But in a good way.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, these two are bad at communicating, bit of one upsmanship in terms of flirting, feels.

Word count: 1k

Over the next week, you explored the entire town. Word spread fast that you were a mechanic, which had people asking you about all kinds of things.

You really weren't sure how exactly how a clock worked, but you tried fixing it anyway.

It worked well enough. That seemed to earn you a reputation, one you'd be happy to run with.

Except Ghost followed you. Every. Single. Place. You went. He followed you into town every day, a silent shadow stalking you relentlessly. He never said a word to you, didn't even try to be friendly.

By the third day of this treatment, you weren't sure if you hated Ghost… or wanted to jump him out of sheer frustrated attraction.

The feeling did not lessen with time. Which left you glowering at Ghost every time you spotted him lurking about, even as you ignored any pooling heat between your legs.

Look. He was an ass, but he was a good looking one. Big, strong, clearly able and not afraid to throw his weight around.

And if that was it, you probably would have been able to ignore your attraction to him. There were other good-looking single people in town after all, you could have found someone else to pursue.

Except he was kind, in small ways. A group of three children swarmed him, clearly used to him and not at all afraid. He took turns picking up the kids and dangling them by their ankles, much to the kids delight.

You watched all of this from a garage, working on breaking down an engine to pull fluids for the truck.

The second Ghost looked over at you, you lifted one oil-streaked hand to wiggle your fingers at him. Mostly because you liked poking the metaphorical bear. You refused to be afraid of him.

(And it was easier to poke fun at him than it was to face your growing attraction to him.)

He just looked back to the kids, saying something to them before leading them away. Back towards town, probably. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't trust you around kids. He didn't even seem to trust you around inanimate objects.

You scowled. Damn. Well, guess you weren't allowed to get distracted anymore.

But you thought about how gentle he could be. Too often for your sanity.

You blamed the zombies.

Now if only he'd be less of a jerk… you'd be in real trouble.

It wasn't long until you were elbow deep in the truck again, alternately whistling and swearing as you worked, oil on your hands and sweat on your face. You surfaced to grab a rag, sort of cleaning your hands so you could get a drink. Gaz's girlfriend was too nice to create extra work for, so you were careful not to dirty the glass, grabbing it with the rag.

Ghost emerged from the house, wearing just a t-shirt and carrying an axe. You paused in your work to watch him, curious.

You were not prepared for him to set up within easy viewing distance, splitting logs for firewood.

You nearly spilled your water.

Fucking hell. That was just not fair!

You looked down at yourself, considering. You weren't done working yet. You'd have to bathe later anyway.

Might as well make a show of it.

It only took a moment to peel off your outer layer, tossing it aside and leaving you in a sleeveless bottom layer. One sneaky look confirmed that Ghost was still working, setting up the next log to chop. So you got back to work, too.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and you pulled yourself away from the truck, surprised to see it had gotten darker. Clouds covered the sky, the temperature dropping quickly.

You swore, more colorfully this time, and grabbed your things quickly. You needed to run back to town, to get inside before it started pouring.

You closed up the car at light speed, aware the car had a garage and would be fine. You didn't even bother to dress properly, just ran for the path towards town.

You hadn't made it far when a shout of your name made you pause. You half-turned to look back, finding Ghost approaching rapidly.

“What?” You asked, a little irritable, glancing up at the sky almost nervously. It hadn't opened up yet, and mentally you begged the rain to hold off just a little longer.

“Faster to come inside,” Ghost offered, stopping in front of you. Closer than he normally stood. Close enough that you could see he was still breathing a little hard with exertion.

“I'll make it home,” you said, not at all sure of that fact.

“Come inside.” This time, it sounded more like an order.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “No.”

Ghost sighed hard through his nose, muttering something that sounded like “stubborn”. “Please.” It was the single driest, least plea-like word you'd ever heard in your entire life.

“I'll just go home.”

The sky chose that moment to ignore your own, much more sincere, pleas. The first fat raindrop landed on your nose, and then the torrential downpour started. Everything got drenched within seconds, you included.

“Just come inside,” Ghost growled, one hand out between the two of you, though he didn't touch you.

“Why?” You hadn't meant to say that, but you didn't retract it either. You lifted your chin, blinking rapidly against the onslaught of rain.

Ghost didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he grabbed you, hand fitting perfectly to your waist, pulling you close until he could kiss you.

Everything around you ceased to exist. The rain didn't matter, the chill seeping into your skin didn't matter. Nothing but the feel of his lips against yours, the little chafe of his stubble against your skin.

You opened your eyes slowly to find him close, the brown of his eyes dark in the rain. He didn't say anything else, letting his actions speak for him.

“Okay,” you agreed, a little fuzzy, running hot despite the cold. “But I'm calling the shots.”

That was the first time you ever saw him smile at you.

#fast car #zombie au #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader

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voxofthevoid · 5 months ago

Text

Resuming posting my current WIP with Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #18. Even with several weeks skipped, this is gonna cross Week 20, huh.

I've picked the fic back up at Chapter 23—of a total of 28. I assume I'll be working on it throughout this month, but I'm just hoping I can finish it too. The final few chapters will be...tricky, content-wise. Like nothing I've written before.

For now, have some weird goyuu sex and vore ft. Tōji from Chapter 22. Some lines from the middle were posted here.

Satoru lets the pain howl through his body and out his mouth, the forest echoing with it, and he knows in his core that Yuuji would have stopped—if he could think, if he could see Satoru as more than some meat.

It’s fine. Satoru won’t hold this against him.

He just holds Yuuji, both Limitless and his own strength coldly leashed against the screaming urge to get this boy out. At his shoulder, teeth scrape bone, but it’s the impalement below that’s scorching his veins and knotting his guts, and Yuuji’s not even moving, his entire body animal still as if he’s savoring the prey caught on his teeth, his cock. Satoru can’t glean much from the visible part of his face; the eyes are closed, the brow unfurrowed. His body is steel, and Satoru’s own isn’t any better, but where he’s tense from pain and the overpowering urge to make this stop, Yuuji’s stillness doesn’t seem so uncomplicated.

It also doesn’t last. First, the teeth sink deeper, the jaw flexing. A rough jerk of the head, and a thick chunk of muscle is torn right off, and Satoru forces his vision to clear in time to see Yuuji throw his head back and swallow, his throat bulging like the gullet of a feeding snake.

The face that peers down at Satoru is red and wet with gore, dripping down that drenched chin to splatter on Satoru’s clavicles.

It pulls a shiver out of him, his mangled shoulder and torn ass both pulsing in a blistering frenzy.

Yuuji lowers his face, and Satoru’s expecting a kiss, with the fleeting thought that he might just lose his tongue to it, but that bloody mouth only returns to the flesh it feasted on, and the first touch makes Satoru tense, bracing for more teeth and hunger, but Yuuji just…presses his face into it, sighing almost sweetly.

Satoru blinks slowly at the canopy. Neither the tress nor the darkening sky offers him any answers.

He stares at Yuuji like sight will make this make any sense, but then he’s just seeing what he’s feeling—Yuuji’s mouth tucked into the meaty mess he’s made of Satoru’s shoulder, the rest of his face arranged into obscene serenity.

His hips aren’t moving either, apparently content to stay buried inside Satoru. He’s bleeding there too, tears in his muscle that drip and throb, and Satoru could heal those as easily as he could heal his shoulder, but the longer he lies there, the less he wants to.

There’s something sacred about cradling this boy in his mangled flesh.

Satoru digs his toes out of the dirt and untenses the muscles in his legs, raising one to wrap it around Yuuji. And Satoru’s insides scream with the motion, but Yuuji doesn’t react beyond a slightly nuzzling motion, rubbing his bloody face against Satoru’s bloodier shoulder. Satoru brings the other leg up too, crossing his ankles behind Yuuji’s back. It leaves his lower half dangling off Yuuji’s cock, and he considers using Limitless to support himself, but the burn in his core is a pleasant enough distraction from the sharper, hotter pain lashing at his wounds.

The twitch of his own cock calls him out on the lie. It’s no distraction. Satoru feels every bit an animal as Yuuji, speared on cock and so tenderly brutalized.

“That looks fun,” comes an unwanted interruption. “You gonna share?”

Satoru wraps his limbs more firmly around Yuuji, sighing through the flare of hurt. “Keep your oversized paws to yourself.”

A mean-sounding chuckle answers him, followed by its owner emerging from the undergrowth. Out of the corner of his eye, Satoru watches Tōji survey the scene, not missing how he lingers on their naked bodies with unwarranted intensity.

At that angle, Tōji can’t see the blood-wet marriage between Yuuji’s face and Satoru’s shoulder.

That changes when Yuuji raises his head and snarls at Tōji.

“Easy,” Satoru soothes, cupping Yuuji’s tensed jaw. Blood smears against his palm. “C’mere.”

Despite the clear aggression, Yuuji allows himself to be guided back down to the pulsing wound. Satoru tenses that shoulder, forcing more blood out of the shredded muscles, and Yuuji’s nostrils flare, his clouded eyes sparking with something sweeter than mere bloodlust.

It’s his tongue that greets the wound, dragging hotly over it from ragged end to ragged end. A thick swallow follows, then the tongue returns, this time licking around the wound to clean the bloodstained skin.

“Cute,” Tōji comments.

Yuuji stills again. Satoru distracts him with a fresh spurt of blood, darkly amused that the wound is at no risk of clotting just yet. Yuuji helps, burying his mouth in the wound and suckling like a newborn calf. It’s strange and new, the pain that eats through Satoru in return, but he’d put up with worse to sate this boy.

He buries a hand in Yuuji’s hair, both affection and restraint, and turns his head to look Tōji in the eye. “Don’t make this worse.”

“Worse,” Tōji echoes flatly. His eyes are fixed on Satoru’s hand—no, on the pink head under the hand. Tōji still won’t be able to see the grisly details, but now he knows, not that it shows in his expression. Then again, he’s not the type to be horrified or disgusted by a little bit of cannibalism. “You’re real weird about this kid.”

“Am I?” Satoru asks mildly.

Tōji gives that the consideration it deserves. “Not that my brat was any better. S’what got him into this mess. Those creepy-crawlies can sniff that shit out.”

“Hey now, that’s hardly Megumi’s fault,” Satoru counters without much heat, more focused on the way Yuuji stops nursing on the wound, his spiritual energy sharpening in a manner reminiscent of a scenting hound. Satoru gives him something sweeter to scent, wet and hot to the taste. At this rate, he’ll have to bastardize the healing process and start converting spiritual energy into blood just to keep Yuuji fed and distracted. “We both know even full-blown hunters struggle to resist this demon.”

“Except you,” Tōji drawls. “And here you are, taunting it with its own toy.”

“You sound like you disapprove.”

“The damn kid’s more of a weapon.”

Satoru hums, the noise shuddering into something else in his throat as Yuuji’s teeth saw into raw meat, twin rows sucking in a bloody mouthful. The heat of his tongue is no comfort, but it lashes down his spine, all the way down to where he’s split on cock. His muscles try in vain to clench around that solid heat.

Tōji’s eyes narrow like he can see.

“Weapons,” Satoru rasps, “can be stolen. I stole you, didn’t I?”

“And did jackshit with me. You’re paying me to rot in buttfuck nowhere.”

“That’s not a very fair description. Besides, you yourself called it easy money.”

“It is easy money.” For once, Tōji doesn’t happy about it. Not that he’s mad either. Honestly, he just sounds kinda grumpy. “But I’ve got one dead kid and one sucking demon dick. The Zen'in are starting to look like the better option.”

“You don’t mean that,” Satoru says confidently, strangling the urge to squirm as Yuuji’s tongue digs into the wound in a way that’s…ticklish, almost. Pain that’s so deep and raw that it shifts into something else. The duller hurts lower down throb around Yuuji’s cock, as if in sympathy. “Tsumiki’s death was an accident—don’t pretend you were any torn up about it. And I can still train Megumi.”

“Looks to me like you’ve got your hands full.” Tōji makes a noise that’s half disdain, half amusement. “Your ass, at least. Nanami’s gonna shit himself when he sees what you’ve done to his kid—if he even cares on the other side of the demon’s teeth.”

Satoru throws him a sharp glance. “Watch it. We don’t know how much of this Yuuji will remember later.”

“I don’t care,” Tōji says, every sound a sharp point. “Just makes sure the kid gets out of it alive, once you’re done whoring around.”

He’s talking about Megumi, of course, but his eyes are on Yuuji, lingering even as the irritation on his face fades into dead-eyed disinterest. Satoru’s under no illusions that this man will mourn if Yuuji dies. Even Megumi—and his sister, incidentally—only got years of neglect and months of outright abandonment before Satoru, freshly a god and briefly in love with the world, forced Tōji into a pact he’s yet to break.

Tōji won’t shed any tears if either boy dies, but he’d tear up the world something crazy.

“I was right,” Satoru says, petting Yuuji and looking Tōji in the eye, speaking the words into an unhearing ear while intending them for a too-sharp pair: “The single dad life does suit you.”

Tōji makes a disgusted noise and turns around, vanishing back the way he came without making a sound.

Yuuji pays it no mind, now focused on treating Satoru’s wound with slow, broad strokes of his tongue—like an animal cleaning a wound. He certainly looks the part, with his enlarged pupils and bloody maw.

Satoru strokes his hair, smiling through a vicious surge of affection.

“Don’t you worry, Yuuji,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

Yuuji raises his head like he actually understands, staring down at Satoru for a long, electric moment.

Then he sinks his teeth into Satoru’s throat.

#goyuu #fushiguro tōji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #wip wednesday #jjk snippets #my fic #divider credit: saradika-graphics #fic: mouth of the wolf

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slippinninque · 1 year ago

Text

✨🦋You (Learned To) Like Pretty Things, Too🦋✨

a/n: thank you for all the love and encouragement that you all give! I'm grateful for every pair of eyes that land on my scribbling! I love me some soft!Fontaine and I hope to do more of these! tell me what you think!

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+, cursing, long-fic, sensual/erotic moments, clothing kink, weed/smoking,

Fontaine pulled up outside of your work, leaning up against his car and looking like an absolute dream after such a tedious week. You met him with a sweet kiss, smiling against his lips when he hummed.

"Now why you tryin' to get me in trouble with Ms. Glenda?" Fontaine pinched your chin when you pulled away. He took your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

Your face felt hot. You sorta forgot that you were still in the middle of your work's parking lot, but who would really care anyway?

The entire week you worked your ass off and cleaned up the messes of other overworked employees. You deserved a public smooch at least.

You took a peek over your shoulder.

Sure enough, there was Ms. Glenda slow-moseying to her car as she looked over her shoulder at the both of you.

That old woman was the gossip. Anything that she hears, everyone will have heard by the next business day.

" 'Night, ma'am!" you called, giving a wave and not waiting to see Ms. Glenda's response. Fontaine snickered at your wide-eyed expression of embarrassment, opening the passenger door for your escape.

"Good night, ma'am." Fontaine called as he rounded to the driver's side. You couldn't hear what Ms. Glenda said, but it made him shake his head with a little grin.

'Messy ol' granny...'

Once inside the Pontiac, you felt the greys of the day melt onto the road.

Fontaine's fingers tapped a rhythm on your thigh and he cruised right onto the highway.

At your questioning look, he just shrugged a bit, "Missed you, wanna ride around for a bit witchu."

You smiled and snuggled into the passenger seat, "Well, that's fine then! "

He patted your thigh and asked you to put on some music. While slipping through stations, you told him about your day. The emails you send and the calls you had to suffer. Off went your wedges and you took the tie from you hair, scratching your fingers into your thick roots.

Eventually your conversation lulled with the both of you enjoying the ride. Fontaine's ass would mess around and drive out of state if you didn't have to clock in the next morning.

The thought left you feeling dreamy. You and Fontaine trade in your cars for a little RV and you both roam the states. You yearned to see Fontaine beneath the the open sky, you wanted to kiss him and taste salt water on his lips. There was something about him that gave you the impression that he'd love camping.

'Soon,' you promised yourself, feeling around for a moment before Fontaine's hand found yours.

"Fontaine!"

-----

"Why you sayin' my name like that? I ain't even touchin'you like I wanna..."

Fontaine's tone was teasing and his golds flashed with a smile that ignited the butterflies in your stomach.

Your mouth dropped open when Fontaine made one final right. Then you were parked in a tucked away space, facing familiar frosted windows.

A bougie boutique that you were brave enough to peruse only online. They had the best quality stuff when it comes to luxury and it wasn't that far away from where you worked. How Fontaine found out, you'd never know.

"How'd you know about this place, 'Taine?"

"What, shit's exclusive or something?"

"No. At least...um, can they do that?"

"It ain't--I checked for memberships an' all that shit."

Of course Fontaine checked, because he's Fontaine. If the boutique did have a membership, not only would you be enrolled but he'd probably be extra about any available perks as well.

You couldn't explain the sudden feeling of shyness that came over you.

As if could see them fluttering into your chest, Fontaine reached out and tipped your chin towards him.

"Now, lemme say that you be wearin' them slacks lately, sexy as hell."

"You think my slacks are sexy?"

"Sexy as hell," Fontaine patiently assured, "I wanna see somethin' else though. You've been working hard and what you be sayin' to me? You deserve nice things."

His imitation of you made you grin but you couldn't stop the sass.

"Hm, a lot of people say that y'know."

Fontaine hummed and brought his face closer, now squishing your cheeks to kiss your pursed lips. He moved back just enough to ask,

"Remember our deal?"

"Ye', I r'member ouhr deah."

"Good. Imma give you a stack an' your going spend it on what you want. You gonna bring me change?"

"...No..."

That got you another kiss before he released you to smile-pout to yourself.

"That's what I wanna hear. Now let's get go fo' I take your pretty lil' self to the back seat."

"Yes, Big Daddy 'Taine."

.....

You opened the front door when you heard Fontaine pull up, staying behind the wood for a few final moments as he swept in like a rain cloud.

"So, you gonna tell me why you've been duckin' me all day--

His grumbling snapped off into a grunt at the sight of you. Grinning while you locked up, you couldn't help but to think 'success!' as his silence stretched on.

Fontaine could only stare, expression both stunned and delighted. Eyes running from your hair to your heels, taking a half step back to take in more of you.

He ran his hand down his face and the motion made your mutinous brain blurt a thought about him not being into it. Was it too much? Too dramatic?

"Jesus Christ of Nazareth."

Covering your face as you lost battle with your composure, you went a little pass him to strike the pose you've been practicing for hours.

"Just call me 'pretty', that'll do just fine."

He whistled lowly, swiftly getting back in your space. He pulled you into his arms, twisting you both and looking down at your swishing hem. You couldn't help but to ask if he liked it.

"Don't ask me questions like that when your lil' ass was holding out. How the hell did you hide this from me anyway?"

"If you must know, a lady can get a lot of mischief done in 20 minutes when left on her own," You batted your eyes at him coyly, "That move you had to shoot while we were at the boutique gave me more than enough time."

For all appearances, you appeared to be a professional burlesque dancer. Your hair bounced as a result of a bomb perm rod set and you wore his favorite perfume.

The panty set you wore were only gleaming, clear quartz beads strung daintily together, acting more like decorations. The matching bra gave you the perfect push n' plump. That wasn't all, though.

You found a radiant corset, the butterscotch color adoring your brown skin when you had it on. Handsewn with champagne and clear crystals, some close into the fabric while others trickled down on silk strings. It bracketed your cinched form prettily and it reminded you of twinkling stars.

Honestly, the corset was for Fontaine and the robe was for you. The color was the same of the corset and the completed look cast you into a glow. Soft, extremely sheer material that was lined with plush faux fur at the sleeves and hem. Whenever you walked, it felt as if you were being followed by clouds.

You decided to wear it beneath the corset to an attendant's suggestion. It sealed the deal and even you couldn't help but flaunt to yourself in the mirror as you finished getting ready

He groaned appreciatively as he ran a few knuckles along the curves of the corset, going down onto a knee to peer closer at the beading and crystals. He lifted he hem of your robe, making an appreciative noise at the of the texture. The sight was enough to take your breath away.

"I have go back and tip those ladies again." you made a note to yourself.

"This is some good shit, pretty girl." he rubbed at your cinched waist and chewed his lip at the sight asking,

"Ain't think you'd do me like this. You good, though? Are you comfortable--these shits can get tight."

Already expecting the question, you nodded as sincerely as you could, "Those women there are the experts. Took really good care of me. One of them said this is something like training wheels to what she normally wears--it's more comfortable than I thought."

"Good. This a bad mu'fucka, goddamn." Fontaine stared up at you with hungry eyes, "Matter of fact, c'mere sweet thing..."

He stood and herded you to the couch and sat you down, then sitting flush at your side to press a kiss to your lips. Every other kiss would come with a grunt or a mutter to himself about how pleased he was that you were all for him.

The last of your anxiety slipped away. Fontaine's hands-on rumination lulled you into that buzzy space where you wanted nothing but pull him on top of you.

Then he had to be disruptive, suddenly standing as if he got popped with hot-comb.

""Hold on, lemme wash my hands--better yet, lemme go shower real quick."

You turned away from him, dramatically rearranging your furred hem, "Oh, so you're just going to leave me here like this?"

Honestly, you were expecting some bodice ripping. Maybe him bending you over and knocking a few beads off of you. You pouted up at him, hard.

Fontaine's leaned down enough to press a kiss to your nose, pulling back enough so you can see his eyes drink in your form up close.

"I ain't touching my sweetie with dirty hands and when I come back, I'm takin' my time." he pinned you with a fervent look when your eyes finally met.

"So, have all that you want done by the time I'm back on this couch. Understood?"

Your answer was fluttering your robe around yourself, curling a leg up onto the couch and draping your arms along the back of it.

Fontaine's grin was smooth as he clasping his hands before him, you saw him considering to stay for a moment before he turned away. A moment later, there was the sound of something clattering into the tub and the shower turning on.

You laughed up at the ceiling and couldn't help kicking out your legs giddily. All your jitters gone now and replaced with anticipation, you got to your feet to get one more thing.

......

It felt like ages before Fontaine returned, but when he did you sat up straight.

You smiled at the way he stopped to take you in again, unfairly handsome in his black tank and grey sweats.

Feeling foxy, you crooked your finger at him to come closer and his answering laugh held promise at it's center. When he was close enough, you lifted a leg to show him your pointed heel.

Fontaine's gaze kept yours while he took hold of your ankle. He took another half step closer, the heel of your pointed-toe pump pressing into his sternum.

"You found 'em " he breathed, running his fingers along where the soft, crème suede meet your skin. He felt the point of the shoe, down the arch, and along the heel before placing it back onto his chest.

"Mhm! The pointy-shits! I had to make my own pompom, but I think it's cute. What do you think?"

Fontaine didn't say anything at first. He pulled your leg across his lap when he sat down next to you. Fontaine ran his free hand down from your ankle to where jewel met softness, making your breath stutter.

"I ain't doin' much thinking. Just wanna to feel you."

You shivered in anticipation. You kept your leg straight as it was lifted to meet Fontaine's face. One of his hands was busy kneading your thigh as he closely inspected the mesh before rubbing his cheek against it.

"Fontaine..." You couldn't help the girlish giggle. He gave a roguish grin before hiking your leg higher, making you squeak. The robe spilled around your semi-split and Fontaine gave a lewd whistle as he stared between your legs.

"Do you like the color? I know how you feel about purple and all, but gold has been growing on me lately."

"Gold is all you ever are, baby."

"Oh my--stop it, you!" You shook him off and primly scooted to lounge on the opposite end of the couch.

Fontaine was set to prowl after you when you held up a finger to him. You pulled out a blunt and lighter from your cleavage and presented them to him, wriggling your brows.

Fontaine's head reeled back before he chuckled. He came close enough to take it, and you plucked another one out as you stretched your legs back over his lap.

He shook his head and flicked the lighter, both of you sharing a flame. You leaned back into the arm of the couch and sent your smoke into the air.

You both sat there, smoking and enjoying the sight of each other. Despite you being the one wearing all the fluff and fancy, Fontaine had those arms out and the scent of his soap wafted enticingly every time he ashed his blunt.

His expression was soft, those jewel-dark eyes roaming all over you when he finally spoke,

"Thank you...for doin' this."

"Thank you? Why would you thank me?"

"I know I can be a bit...assertive at times. I ain't want you to think I wanna control you, y'know wha' I'm sayin?"

You only nodded your head, looking at where the smoke curled away from the tip of his blunt.

"I like being seen by you. You showed me things I didn't--I convinced myself not to want and now...I want them. I only want them from you."

The words drifted in silence as Fontaine's eyes finally still on yours, prompting you to continue.

"I wanna know you want, 'Taine. How can I give it to you?"

"Lookin' like what you are. Valuable. Precious. My perfect lil' Venus. Anythin' I could want--you already gave. Just tryin' to catch up."

"You already did, pretty." Fontaine ran a finger from your knee to the tip of your heel, reverently.

Your eyes misted as you as you lost your words. Speechless, you only wanted one thing in the moment.

Fontaine saw the change in you, putting out his blunt the same time as you in time to welcome you back into his embrace. You pushed a little more until you stretched over him in a sprawl.

Words couldn't express how you felt, the feeling bouncing in your heart. Love didn't seem like it was enough. All you could do was kiss him and hoped that he understood.

He enveloped you at once with restless hands. You chimed beneath his touch as he felt every crystal and bead, leaving them to swing against each other as he moved on.

Fontaine kissed you slowly, savoring every sound you made. Teasing you for more, pulling away enough to make you lean after him. You wanted to feel more of him, running your hands beneath his tank to the warm skin beneath.

When you felt his hands go to the back of your corset, you wriggled in protest until Fontaine pulled back with a pout that had you laughing.

"Don't make that face, I almost forgot--I got something for you, too"

Fontaine released you pretty easily at that, but you didn't have to go far. You reached beneath the couch to pull out a small box. Still sitting on his lap, you flicked off the lid to show him what was inside.

Brow raised, Fontaine reached out to remove the polaroid camera from it's casing. You bit your lip, feeling where he was hard beneath you.

"So, I was thinking, we could start a little...album together." You whispered, resuming your sprawl across his chest after tossing the box aside, "Of all the things I wear for you. Maybe this is more of a gift for the both of us but wouldn't it be fun?"

After all, you hadn't even touched the other things you've brought from the boutique. All of your focus was on pulling a fast one on Fontaine. He shifted, briefly pressing against you as he sat up further against the arm of the couch.

Much to your delight, you can tell Fontaine was flustered. He was fiddling with the camera, his smile surprisingly meek as he finally spoke,

"Can I take one for my wallet?"

"Anything for you, Big Daddy 'Taine."

Fontaine's smile appeared in full force and it felt so good to see that you sighed, melting against him and meeting in the middle for a other kiss.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

end notes: phew, this took a long while and i thank you if you read to the end lmao. i'm still learning how to write and post on this site and i'm building up more courage to experiment but thank you so much to those who check back in!

Let me know if I y'all wanna know 'bout them pictures he took 👀👀

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @mysterychick93 @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @prettypink-princesss @longpause-awkwardsmile @thadelightfulone @motheyesofnight @nickidub718 @eggnox @kindofaintrovert @sageispunk @blowmymbackout @daariesqueen@sevikasblackgf@justabovewater20@mybonafidefeelings @mcondance

#fontaine x black!reader #fontaine fic #they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fic #Fontaine x FemReader #fontaine x reader #fontaine x black reader #fontaine #john boyega

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

Text

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 5:Dagger 🗡

You would never come out and ask your brother, Zeus, for something, but all day Sunday, you wished that he would take the slightest bit of pity on you and make it rain the entire week.

But no, he's an ass like that, and on Monday morning, Apollo and his chariot were already crossing the sky as you dragged yourself out of bed and got ready for work.

You spent the entire weekend trying to formulate how you were going to interact with Bradley—no—not Bradley—Rooster, at work.

You decided the best method was to ice him out as much as possible. Sure, you'd still have to fly with him, but you didn't have to talk to him on the ground. You didn't have to be his friend.

It was better that way

After getting ready and giving Hyrda and Cerberus their goodbye pets, you headed out. You were waiting for the elevator when the ding of the bell let you know it had arrived.

The door opened, and the one person you didn't want to see was there—Rooster.

"Morning, Hades." He greeted you as he held the door open.

"You know what, I think I'll take the stairs." You deadpanned before turning on your heels and headed for them.

"Hades! Angel, c'mon, don't be like that." Rooster called for you, but you were already letting the heavy door slam behind you.

Anger filled your body with each step you took. How dare he still try to call you that ridiculous nickname, like he didn't just break your heart days ago.

You stomped out of the stairwell and towards your Range Rover. You noticed that Rooster was standing beside his Bronco a few spaces down from your car. You kept your eyes forward, focused on getting to your car without talking to him.

You heard him call out to you, but you ignored him, jumping in your SUV and driving off without giving him a second thought.

Shut him out, just like you always do

You cranked your music up loud, and your speakers were booming as you pulled into your reserved space on base. You quickly parked and collected your things and walked towards the building. You made it inside and were about to tuck yourself into your office for a few minutes of peace before heading out for training for the day.

You'd just sat down to look over some notes for today when a knock at your disturbed yoursilence.

"Hades?" Jake's voice came as he gentle opened your door.

"You can come in, Hangman." You said to him.

Jake came in and closed the door before taking a seat across from you.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked him.

"No, well—kind of. I wanted to apologize for Saturday." Jake said, almost bashfully.

You raised your eyebrow at him. You weren't expect that this morning.

"I was a real dick to you at my party. I shouldn't have thrown you in the pool. Really, I was just really trying to goof off, and I didn't mean to hurt you or give you a PTSD attack. You said you didn't want to get in, and I should have respected your boundaries. I hope you can forgive me." Jake says in earnest.

"I appreciate your apology, Jake. You're not a bad person. You just don't have the best listening skills or the best impulse control. Work on actually hearing what others are saying, and you'll be a better person and a better pilot." You tell him.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." He says as he shoots you his thousand watt smile. "Ready to get to training?" Jake asks you as he checks his watch.

"Not really, but I guess I have to be." You sigh as you stand up from your desk. Jake quickly hops up and opens the door to your office and gestures for you to go first. You nod your head before exiting your office and heading down the hall.

Jake makes small talk with you as the two of you walk together towards the briefing room. He says something funny before the two of you enter, and Rooster doesn't miss how chummy you are with Jake as you walk right by the empty seat next to him and take the seat next to Hangman.

A pang of jealous flashes through him as Jake pulls out your chair for you before taking his. Rooster wonders why you're being so friendly with him after what happened this weekend. But then again, Rooster realized he probably deserves the cold shoulder that you are giving him.

Phoenix elbows him in the ribs and points to you and Jake while giving Rooster a questioning glance. Rooster shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

Soon, Maverick comes in and gives assignments for the day. Rooster hopes that you'll cool down and the two of you will be able to fly together again.

Unfortunately, his hopes are dashed the moment the two of you are in the sky. You're out of sync. Questioning each other, making mistakes that the two of you never make.

You lash out at Rooster when Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote are able to get a missile lock on you because Rooster didn't listen to your directions.

You're fuming when you get out of your plane and make your way over to him. You jab your finger into his chest and glare up at him. "When I give an order, you need to listen to it. I told you to break left, so why in the hell did you break right!" You shout at him." Rooster looks at you with wide eyes. In the four months that you've been here, several members of the team have stupid things in the air, but you've never lashed out at them like this. He sees the fire burning in your eyes. Before he can defend himself, you start on him again.

"If you can't listen to me, I will ground you so fast that it will make your head spin!" You yell at him.

"Angel, I—" He begins, but you cut him off.

"Stop calling me that! It is Hades or Commander Kolasi. Have made myself clear, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?" You seethe.

Rooster's jaw ticks. He rolls his shoulders back as he looks straight ahead before defeatedly saying, "Yes, ma'am. My apologies, Commander Kolasi."

You swallow thickly and are about to say something else, but Maverick comes over to the two of you. "Hades, Rooster, is everything okay? Did something happen between the two of you? That wasn't your best flying today."

Rooster looks at Maverick before looking at you. He isn't sure what to say, so you speak. "No, sir, Captain Mitchell. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Right Rooster?" You glare at him.

"Just having an off day, sir." Rooster responds. "Okay, well, hopefully, the two of you can get it straightened out before the new class of recruits come in in two weeks." Maverick says. You ask if you are dismissed before promptly walking away.

"What did you do, Bradley?" Maverick asks Rooster when you're out of earshot.

"What makes you think I did something?" Rooster tries to defend himself. Maverick gives Rooster a knowing "dad look" and shakes his head. "Because no woman goes off on a man like that if he didn't do something. I've been on the receiving end of that rage more times than a care to count, and it was always because of something I did." Mav says.

Rooster hangs his head because he knows Maverick is right. "I fucked up." Rooster says. Maverick shakes his head. "Whatever you did, fix it. You guys are the best team I have. Don't make me ground both of you." He pats Rooster on the back before heading to his office.

Rooster treads down the hallway to your office and knocks before you let him. He doesn't miss the way your face falls when you see that it'd him.

"If you came here looking for an apology, Lieutenant Commander, I'm afraid you're wasting your time." You tell him as gou type some things on your laptop.

"I didn't. I just came to say, that I don't understand why you're so upset with me, but for the sake of the team, can we please call a truce at work? Neither of us wants to get grounded. So you can hate me outside of base, but on base, can we be civil?" He says.

"I have no problem being civil, as long as you can communicate with me." You tell him with a stoic face.

"I can do that. And I'm sorry about earlier today." Rooster says you nod your head and turn back to your work as he sees himself out.

Tuesday was better. You and Bradley were able to successfully avoid getting shot down by Hangman and Fritz, but there was still a riff between the two of you.

Wednesday night, Cerberus and Hydra stared at the door all evening, waiting for Rooster to come through the door with pizza and treats for them.

"He's not coming." You told them as you sat on the couch

He's not coming ever again

As the weeks passed, you found yourself being less cold and bitter towards Rooster, but you still wouldn't call yourself his friend anymore. You could tolerate being around him, but that was about it.

Phoenix had dragged you out to the Hard Deck for the first time in over a month. You wanted to have fun, but without Rooster by your side, you felt like an outsider to your friend group.

You'd always been an outsider

You were content to sit and watch everyone as you drank your beer, but the senior wallflower of the group, one Bob Floyd, had other plans.

"Hey, Hades. Can we talk?" Bob asked you as he sat down next to you and offered you some peanuts from his cup.

"Sure, Bob. What's up?" You asked him.

"What happened between you and Rooster at Jake's party?" Bob asked. You choked on your drink, this is not where you expected this conversation to go.

"What do you mean, Bob?" You tried to play coy.

"I mean, after Jake threw you in the pool, Rooster was ready to rip his head off. You should have seen how furious he was. And then he went to go check on you, but after he came back out to get your things, something was different about him. He wasn't himself." Bob explains to you."I tried to talk to him, but he was just—I don't even know the word." Bob continued.

You didn't know what to say to him. What could you even say?

"Nothing happened, Bob. Rooster came to check on me and made sure I was okay and then asked me if I wanted to leave." You lied to him.

"Bullshit." Bob said flatly. Your eyes went wide. In the five months that you've been a Dagger, you'd never heard the mild-mannered WSO curse.

"That's bullshit, Hades, and we both know it. And another thing, you've started calling him 'Rooster' and not Bradley. And he's stopped calling you 'Angel.' Something happened between you two, and we all know it. So, spill." Bob stated.

You could feel his glasses covered eyes staring into your soul as you sat there. You looked around to make sure no one was listening and let out a heavy sigh.

"Fine, you're right. Something did happen. Rooster kissed me." You admit to Bob. "Oh." He said a tad surprised. "What happened after that?" Bob asked you.

"He pulled back and panicked and apologized and asked if we could pretend it never happened, that he didn't know what he was thinking when he did it." You say sadly.

"And from the tone of your voice, I can tell that's not the reaction you were hoping for. Was it?" Bob conclues.

"No, it's not. I have feelings for Rooster, and I thought maybe he had them for me, too, but I was wrong." You sigh.

"I really care about him, Bob. I haven't felt this way about anyone in a very long time." You say.

Three thousand years if you're being technical

"Rooster has feelings for you, too. You haven't been here to see how mopey he has been without you here. He hasn't played the piano in over a month. He's like a sad, lost puppy that's been kicked." Bob tells you.

"Well, he sure has a funny way of showing it if he does have feelings for me." You roll your eyes and take another drink.

"Rooster isn't the best at expressing himself. I think you two should talk." Bob tells you before Phoenix and Javy come and wrangle him away.

You take a moment to let Bob's words sink in. Maybe you should try to talk to Rooster. But you need some time to think about what you would say. You need to clear your head.

You decide to call it an early night. You grab your things and go pay for your tab before driving home.

"Did you talk to her, Bob?" Rooster asked him as he caught the WSO by the arm. "Is she still here?" Rooster looks around for you hopefully.

"I did talk to her, but if you want to know what she's feeling, you need to put your big boy pants on and talk to Hades yourself. I'm not your middle man. And no, she isn't here. I think she left." Bob says as he shakes lose of Rooster's grasp.

Rooster sighs and heads to the bar to pay his tab. "You know that piano is starting to get dusty." Penny smirks as she takes his credit card from his hand.

"Penny—" Roostet begins but shr shakes her head. "I don't know what you did, Rooster, but if you care about that girl, I suggest you fix it." She tells him.

"Did Mav talk to you?" Rooster asks her. "More like he came home ranting about how you were flying." Penny smiles. "And you've been looking like shit every time you come in here." Rooster hangs his head. He definitely hasn't been at his best lately.

"Talk to her, Bradley. That's the only way you can fix it." Penny tells him. Rooster nods his head and turns to leave. They were all right.

Penny, Bob, Mav—he needed to talk to you. He just wasn't sure what to say.

.............

You spent the majority of Saturday pacing around your apartment. Cerberus and Hydra tracked you every move and listened to the one-sided imaginary conversation you had. Bob was right. Talking to Rooster would be the only way to move forward.

You missed him. You missed your Wednesday pizza sessions. You missed the easy conversation you could have with him. You missed the way he made you feel. You missed his friendship and his sense of humor and how he always made you smile.

You just didn't know how to tell him that. In theory, it should be easy, but in practice, it was extremely difficult. You didn't know if you could look at his perfect face and stare into his honey brown eyes and tell him that it was torture not being his friend these past few weeks. You were still angry with him, but you were more angry at yourself and how long you'd let this sad song go on.

You'd tried to find the right words, but they weren't there. You needed some space to think.

You quickly made your way down to your bedroom and opened your closet. Piles of clothes stared back at you. One advantage of being over three thousand years old was the fact that you had money. You invested in corporations and stocks as they were just taking off, and they paid dividens. You didn't outwardly flaunt your wealth, but you treated yourself to certain luxuries. You clothes and your vehicles being some of them.

You combed the space and settled in a black top and a pair of skinny jeans. You slipped some black over the knee boots on and grabbed a black leather jacket from the hanger.

You pulled your hair back before securing it in place with an Hermès scarf. You placed your favorite tortoise shell Gucci sunglasses in your well loved Tory Birch tote.

You then went to the small safe in your nightstand and punched in the code before taking out the keys to your most prized possession.

After packing a few snacks and a water bottle, you left your apartment and headed for the elevator. You took the lift to the very bottom floor of the covered parking. The spots were lined with luxury cars that screamed "new money" at you. There were shiny, new, and untouched.

You walked over to your corner spot and smiled as you set your eyes on your cloth covered beauty. You striped the canvas off and tucked it in the trunk before stepping back to admire your 1968 Shelby Cobra in midnight black. You'd bought it new all those years ago and taken care of it. Over the years, you had it repainted to include blue pinstripes, and you had the convertible top replaced, but most of it was still original.

You placed your things in the passenger seat and climbed in. You opened the glove box and grabbed your leather gloves, and slipped them on before wrapping your fingers around the steering wheel.

You turn the key, and the engine roars to life. You shift into gear and a pull out of the parking garage. You turn the dial on the old radio until some beach tunes come through on the speakers. You'd once thought about replacing the radio, but the pops and cracks and static that come through give it character.

The wind rushes past your face as you take in the smell of the salt air while you drive down the highway. You head north towards your favorite lookout. You'd stumbled upon it by accident the first week that you'd been in California.

It wasn't much, just a small parking lot that overlooked the ocean, but in the three hours that you spent there, not a single soul showed up. You were able to take in your first California sunset and really let yourself take a breath and think about how you were going to handle yourself at your new duty station.

You sighed as you followed the curve in the road. Fewer and fewer cars were around you until you were the only one.

Alone, like you were meant to be

You turned the radio down as you approached the turn-off for the overlook, and it appears to be empty. You're thankful for that, but the moment you turn in, you see it. An all too familiar blue Bronco parked at the far end of the lot.

"You've got to be kidding me." You mumble to yourself.

He really is like the neighborhood stray

You quickly pull into a space and realize you have two choices.

One, you could turn around and go home, and Rooster would be none the wiser.

Or, two, you could park beside him and actually talk to him.

You sigh, you were already planning on talking to Rooster, so what better time than the present?

You pull one spot over from him. He has the Bronco backed in and the tailgate down. He doesn't notice you at first.

"Hey, stranger." You say as you walk up to him. "Hades?" He looks at you and blinks a few times, as if he's not sure that it's really you standing there or a figment of his imagination that he's conjured up.

"Hi." You say shyly.

"Did you—" He shakes his head. "No, Rooster. I didn't follow you here. I found this place my first week in California. I come here to think, to escape the noise." You tell him. There's a long silence between the two of you. "Are you hungry? I brought a picnic with me because I was planning on spending a few hours here. You tell him.

He nods his head, and you smile. You turn your attention back to your car, and Rooster follows you with his eyes. "Holy shit! Is that yours?" He asks as he cranes his neck to see.

"Yeah, she's mine. A 1968 Shelby Cobra. She's almost all original. I had to replace the convertible top a few years ago, and I got her repainted. But other than that, she's original. It's my prize possession." You tell him. Rooster hops off his tailgate and steps over to admire the sleek black car.

"I guess that explains your attire." He chuckles. "A vintage car deserves and proper driving outfit." You say as you grab the basket of food from the passengers side.

You walk back over to his car and spread the blanket you brought over his tailgate. You take out the sandwiches, nuts, cheese, and water you brought with you and offer him some.

You spend a few minutes in the quiet of each other's company. With every passing moment, you realize just how much you've missed him.

"I'm sorry." Both of you blurt out at the same time.

"What?" You say again in unison. You both laugh. Rooster pauses before speaking again.

"I'm sorry about what happened at Jake's—well, I'm more sorry about how I reacted and treated you afterward. That was wrong of me. I wasn't trying to hurt you, Hades. I care about you a lot. You icing me out this past month has been torture for me." Rooster confesses to you.

"I miss our Wednesday nights together. I miss eating pizza and watching trashy reality TV on your couch. I miss sneaking bits of crust to Cerberus and Hydra when you aren't looking. I miss how you laugh when someone does something stupid on Big Brother. To someone on the outside, it may seem stupid to miss something so mundane, but to me, it's the highlight of my week. It gives me something to look forward to. But most of all, Angel, I miss you." He tells you in earnest. He looks at you with his big brown eyes, and you can't be mad at him anymore because you feel the same.

"I miss you too, Bradley." You admit.

He smiled and looked at you with starry eyes

Bradley, you had called him Bradley, and that made his heart swell. He had missed the way his name sounded coming from your lips.

"I miss our friendship, and Cerberus and Hydra miss you too." You tell him. "I'm sorry for how I've been treating you. I'm so used to people leaving me that I forgot what it was like to have a friend."

"I told you that you were stuck with me." Bradley laughs.

"Can we be friends again, Bradley?" You ask him. "Yeah, Angel, we can be friends again." Bradley smiles as you.

Friends

You wanted more, but this was better than nothing

You spend the rest of the evening talking with Bradley until the sun sets. Both of you head home shortly after that.

You pull into the parking garage and head down to the lower level. Bradley meets you there and helps you cover your car.

He then races to the other side of his Bronco to open the door for you. You shake your head and laugh at him over the gesture.

He drives both of you to your designated level of the parking deck and hops out. He jogs over to your side before you've even had a chance to unbuckle and opens the door again. He helps collect all of your things and walks you to your apartment door.

"Would you like to come in? I'm sure Cerby and Hydra would love to see you." You tell him.

"I would love to come in, Angel." Bradley smiles at you. Cerberus practically levels Bradley when he comes through the door, and Hydra curls back and forth between his legs as he stumbles towards your couch.

He stays with you until the late hours of the evening, and even though it's been a month since the two of you have really spoken, it feels like no time has passed.

Reluctantly, Bradley pulls himself away from you and Cerberus and Hydra and bids you all good night.

Later, when you are going through your apartment and checking all the lights and locks, you notice something.

There, sitting by itself on your kitchen island, is the shiny silver key to his apartment.

You smile as you place it back on your key ring. You don't plan to ever take it off again.

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