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capquinn · 22 days ago

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I really want fries as a finishing the week treat but it’s so cold out and I’m too lazy to get them. But I was thinking about Quinn and pregnant reader in that situation. Quinn would give her that 🫤 look and sigh after she’s been going on and on about her pregnancy craving and no matter the weather or time of night he always goes out to get it or find the closest thing to it. He’s such a softie and drops everything to do anything for her

It starts off innocently enough — just a passing comment as you're cooking dinner.

You’re standing at the stove, stirring a pot of soup, when you spot the empty pickle jar on the counter. The sight of it stops you mid-stir, an ache blooming in your chest that you hadn’t even realised was there. The sharp tang of vinegar was just a memory now, thanks to Quinn, who had polished off the last one earlier. You stared at the jar for a long moment, then inhaled deeply as if to steel yourself, catching the faint scent of peanut butter still lingering in the air from his afternoon snack.

“We’re out of pickles,” you announce, the words coming out sharper than you’d intended.

Quinn doesn’t even look up from where he’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone.

“We’re going grocery shopping tomorrow,” he replies casually, like it’s no big deal. “We’ll grab some more then.”

You nod, swallowing down the disappointment. Of course, it’s fine. Quinn already does so much for you — too much, honestly. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up in the middle of the night to rub your back, doesn’t bat an eye when you cry over commercials. The least you can do is manage a craving for one night.

But by the time the soup bowls are empty and the dishes are drying in the rack, the craving is no longer something you can brush aside. It’s no longer just pickles. It’s pickles and peanut butter. Crunchy peanut butter, specifically, the kind you already have in the pantry. And the thought of it — salty and tangy and just a little sweet — is like a loop stuck in your brain. You can feel it growing, blooming into an obsession you can’t shake no matter how hard you try.

So you finally bring it up as you’re both clearing the table.

“You know, pickles and peanut butter would taste so good right now,” you say, hoping maybe speaking it out loud will get it out of your system.

Quinn pauses, plate in hand, and gives you a skeptical glance. “Pickles and peanut butter? Together?”

You nod, setting down the glasses you’ve just picked up from the table. “Yeah. Like, on the same spoon. Or maybe a pickle dipped in peanut butter,” you add, tilting your head thoughtfully.

He squints at you like you’ve just suggested something completely alien. “You don’t even like pickles.”

“I know,” you say, exasperated, “but it’s a pregnancy craving. I can’t explain it.”

Quinn smirks, a playful glint in his eye. “So, the baby’s got you craving… that?”

“Apparently,” you say with a shrug, trying to sound casual, though you can feel the craving getting worse now that you’ve spoken it into existence.

It comes up again later as you sit cross-legged on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while Quinn flips through TV channels.

“Pickles and peanut butter,” you murmur under your breath, almost to yourself and from the corner of your eye, you catch Quinn’s side-eye, his brow quirking as he lowers the remote slightly.

“You’re still thinking about that?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement, though there’s a hint of skepticism, like maybe he’s hoping this craving had run its course.

You glance up, shrugging as you bite your lip.

“Yeah,” you admit, and then, add quickly, “but it’s fine. I can wait until tomorrow.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you for a beat, and you can feel the weight of it. He’s studying you, half waiting for you to crack and half trying to decide if he needs to intervene now or risk hearing about pickles and peanut butter in his sleep.

“You sure?” he says finally, his tone light, but there’s something else beneath it — like he knows you’re holding back.

“Positive,” you say, nodding firmly.

And for a while, you convince yourself that it's true. That you're completely, utterly and positively sure that you can wait until tomorrow.

So you curl up under the blanket with Quinn, his arm draped loosely over your shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm — a quiet, familiar rhythm that usually soothes you without fail. The TV hums softly in the background, and his chest rises and falls against your side, steady and warm. It should be enough.

But it’s not.

The thought of that perfect salty-sweet combination gnaws at you, persistent and unrelenting. You try to distract yourself, to focus on the show Quinn seems semi-invested in, but every passing second feels like the craving is growing claws, digging deeper into your resolve.

You take a deep breath, glancing up at him. His profile is soft in the glow of the TV, his expression relaxed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he absently strokes your shoulder. He’s content, comfortable. You almost feel bad for what you’re about to do.

Almost.

“Before I say something,” you start, your voice tentative, measured, the prelude to what you know is a plea, “just remember that I’m carrying your baby.”

Quinn doesn’t even blink. His lips quirk into a small smile, his thumb pausing mid-circle on your arm.

“Our baby,” he corrects gently, his tone warm, teasing, like he knows exactly where this is going. Of course he knows. He always knows.

You hesitate for a beat, building up your courage before blurting, “I’m really, really craving pickles and peanut butter.”

His head falls back against the couch, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he drags a hand down his face.

“Baby,” he says, his voice full of mock exasperation, “it’s pouring outside. You said it could wait until tomorrow.”

“I thought it could,” you insist, sitting up straighter, as if that’ll help your case. “But I’ve been thinking about it since dinner, Quinn. I don’t think I can sleep until I have it.”

He looks at you, his brows furrowing just enough to show he’s debating his options, though you both know there’s only one.

“I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate,” you tack on, your tone earnest as if that might tip the scales further in your favor.

Quinn exhales a long, dramatic sigh, one that would almost sound convincing if not for the way his lips twitch at the edges, betraying the affection underneath. There’s no real frustration in him — just the soft resignation of someone entirely smitten, hopelessly incapable of saying no.

“You haven’t even asked me anything yet,” he points out, tilting his head as he meets your gaze, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a flicker of amusement he’s trying not to show.

It’s infuriatingly endearing.

“Will you please go get pickles?” you ask, your tone so sweet, so endearingly earnest, that he doesn’t stand a chance.

That gets him.

His lips twitch, fighting off a grin, as he pushes himself to his feet, stretching with a dramatic groan.

“The things I do for you,” he mutters under his breath, the corners of his mouth betraying the tease.

He disappears down the hall, and you hear the faint shuffle of a jacket being pulled off a hook, the jangle of keys being found. When he returns, he’s already slipping his arms into the sleeves, his shoulders settling with the kind of resigned acceptance that says he knows this is his life now — and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He moves toward the door, stooping to pull on his sneakers, the drizzle outside faintly tapping against the windows. Just as he’s tying the laces, he glances back over his shoulder, one brow quirking in that playful, knowing way that makes your heart squeeze.

“Anything else while I’m out?” he asks, his tone warm and teasing, like he’s already resorted to a grocery list. “Ice cream? Chocolate syrup? A gallon of peanut butter to get us through the next week?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you peek over the back of the couch.

“Just the pickles. And maybe… the good kind?” You ask innocently, like maybe you’re asking for too much at this late hour.

Quinn groans, a sound full of exaggerated exasperation, but the grin tugging at his lips gives him away.

“The good kind,” he repeats, his tone dripping with mock seriousness, like the words themselves are some great inconvenience. “I’ll see what I can do.”

But there’s no hiding the fondness in his eyes as he steps closer, moving behind the sofa. He plants his hands on the cushions, leaning over until his face is just above yours. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin with a quiet kind of devotion. Then, he presses a kiss to your temple, lingering just long enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the steady comfort of his presence.

“You owe me for this,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to that warm, teasing tone that makes your heart flip.

You tilt your head toward him, grinning as you meet his gaze, your affection spilling over. “I’m giving you a baby, Quinn.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes like he’s indulging some monumental injustice. But the way his lips twitch, the faint curve of a smile tugging at the corners, gives him away.

“Yeah, you are,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a gesture so instinctive, so achingly gentle, it makes your chest tighten.

There’s a flicker in his eyes of pure adoration that doesn’t even try to hide. It’s the kind of look that says a thousand things he never could — about how much he loves you, how much this life you’re building together means to him, how he’d cross any distance, brave any storm, just to see you smile.

And then he huffs, a soft sound somewhere between affection and surrender, before leaning down further, his breath warm against your skin. His lips brush against yours, soft and deliberate, the kind of kiss that’s all tenderness and quiet longing. It lingers, unhurried, his hand cupping your cheek as if to keep you right there, as though this moment is his anchor before he steps out into the cold.

“Be right back.”

#sometimes when i proofread stuff i've written about quinn i just sigh so loud and think 'i wish u were real and mine' LOL 😭#this is definitely one of those times #capquinn's writing #capquinn’s requests #quinn hughes x reader #idk whether to file pregnant reader x quinn as dad!quinn or not but lets file it there anyway #dad!quinn #quinn hughes

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featherandferns · 1 month ago

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day 2/24 - obx christmas countdown

‘I just want you for my own; more than you could ever know’ - Mariah Carey, All I Want for Christmas is You | fluff

The twinkling lights and perky music and the rather rude demanding pillow on the sofa that says “JOY” do little to raise your spirits. You’re aware how much of a grump you must seem, slumped in the corner of the pull-out, staring longingly into your glass of mulled wine, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Hey, grinch.” A Santa hat smacks you in the face. You glare at Kiara.

“Cheer up. It’s girls’ night,” she tells you.

“What’s got you so down-in-the-dumps, eh?” Cleo asks.

“She’s pining,” Sarah says knowingly, grinning slyly at you.

“I do not pine,” you reply firmly. Then, taking a pause for thought, you tag on, “very often.”

“This about that Maybank boy, huh?” Cleo checks.

Sighing, you rock your head back and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Does everybody know?”

“Yep,” Sarah brightly replies. “Probably including JJ.”

“No way,” Kiara argues. She’s lounging in the armchair, a Santa hat sat wonky on her head. “That boy is blind as a bat. Lucky for you.”

At your quirked eyebrow in question, Kie puts on quite the show of a puppy-dog, yearning, lovesick idiot. You suppose that’s meant to be you. Charming. You toss the Santa hat back at her and she catches it effortlessly.

“Kie has a point though. Why don’t you just tell him? He’s definitely whipped for you, too,” Sarah says.

“Yeah right,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“Girl, you don’t see the way he looks at you.”

“Mhm - because there isn’t a way he looks at me,” you deflect. You stare into your glass of mulled wine, transfixed by the swirling maroon and purple of the liquid; the herbal and fruity tones tangy as they hit your nose and linger on your tongue.

You’d known JJ since the two of you were in diapers. Growing up, side by side, you felt as though you knew enough about him to know he didn’t love you as anything more than a friend. Seen him chase after enough girls and woo enough chicks at Keggars to believe that if something was meant to happen between the two of you, it would have by now. That didn’t stop your feelings from spiralling and, at a certain point, at a certain age, he suddenly seemed different to you. The treasure hunting only solidified this more, like sealing your feelings in ice. Seeing someone almost die more times than you can count has a magical way of bringing every emotion you have about them to the surface. In fact, you remember the night that you realised that the only thing you’ll ever need in life is JJ. But if that meant as a friend, then that was how it would be. After all, you couldn’t risk losing him.

Sighing, you come back to the room and find your smile. “It’s not fair to feed my delusions,” you tell your friends, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Well, y’know what’s a good remedy for boy problems?” Sarah wonders. She gets to her feet, dressed in reindeer pyjamas which match yours, Kie’s and Cleo’s.

“What?”

“Mulled wine and spiked eggnog,” she grins, grabbing the bottle of plum-purple liquor. Of course. Laughing, shaking your head, you hold out your glass for a top-up.

“Tis the season.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ came home late. He’d been out on the boat with John B fishing, and the two of them got to sharing a joint and talking, and lost track of time. What were they talking about? Oh, nothing important. Apart from how JJ needed to maybe get a grip sometime soon (John B’s words) and suck it up (also John B’s words) and just tell you how he felt about you already because it’s starting to get pathetic (you guessed it - John B). After JJ threatened to throw him overboard, the matter was dropped rather promptly. That isn’t to say JJ didn’t contemplate it the entire boat ride home.

He knew it was a risky play. You were the most important thing in his life. You were more valuable than all the gold in the world and more perfect than all the jewels. He wasn’t sure when he started falling for you; all he knew was that the ground was getting nearer. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. Drinking was like rolling the dice. JJ worried that if he had one too many shots, he might sound a bit too genuine when telling you how much he loved you.

“There’ll still awake?” John B thinks aloud as the two guys walk back towards the house. The boat was now docked and the catch stored in the fridge at the Tackle and Bait shop. The house is illuminated through the windows with Christmas lights of red and gold. A garland hangs around the frame and on the door is a homemade wreath, complete with seashells.

“Guess so.”

As John B pushes open the door, they’re met with the deafeningly loud Christmas music and a chorus of giggles. Drunk giggles. The two boys share a look, amused, mildly concerned, before venturing into the living room. Cleo and Kie are sitting on the sofa, wine glasses in hand, watching you and Sarah dance in front of the tree. You look adorable in your pyjamas, matching the other three girls like a collectors doll. Your skin sparkles under the twinkling tree lights; hair swaying as you swing and swoop with Sarah. JJ’s heart does that annoying tugging-lurch that it usually does when he sees you.

Sarah spots the two guys first and her eyes light up like Rudolph’s nose at the sight of John B.

“Baby!” she grins, hurrying over to him and throwing herself into his arms. JJ’s distracted by watching the reunion that he doesn’t see you coming. You collide into him with a huff, tossing your arms around his shoulders and neck.

“Hey,” he chuckles, easing a hand onto your back to hold you near. His heart is close to beating out of his chest.

“I missed you,” you hum into his sweater.

His heart beats even faster. Stop it, he warns himself. She doesn’t mean it like that.

“You two better get those girls to bed,” Kiara chuckles, no less drunk herself.

“No funny business, eh? We’ve got eyes!” Cleo warns with a wagging finger, making herself and Kie break into more giggles.

“Yes! Bed!” you whoop. You grab JJ’s hand and practically drag him through the hallways to your shared bedroom. There’s a queen bed and a single, with the former claimed by you despite JJ’s bartering. Since the two of you grew up together, it made sense to the Pogues to pair you up in the house. Now JJ was starting to wish that wasn’t the case; it made it harder to ignore how cute you are.

“Oh my God, JJ, you missed it! We started talking and playing games and listening to music. Oh! And there was drinks.”

“You don’t say,” JJ quips, raising his brows.

You sit yourself down on the bed and tug him down beside you by his arm. He laughs and indulges.

“You had a good night, then?” he checks. Your eyes are wide and shining; pupils telling of your intoxication. The smile on your face could battle that of all the Christmas lights in Kildare with how it glows.

“The best night! Just wish you were there,” you tell him sincerely.

“Me too,” he smiles.

As he holds your gaze, something sombre comes over you, and your smile begins to falter. Before he can fixate, you’re resting your head against his shoulder and sighing.

“JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want for Christmas?” you wonder, interrupting yourself with a yawn. It seems now that you're away from the spiked eggnog and blaring tunes, the tiredness has begun to seep in.

“What’d I want for Christmas?” JJ echoes. He hums as he thinks long and hard. He knows the obvious answer - the want of all his wishes - but that one is a no-go. “I don’t know. Maybe a new board? That’d be sweet.”

“Mm. That would be pretty dope,” you agree sleepily.

JJ can smell your perfume and shampoo so close and it’s physically painful. “What about you? What’d you want?”

“Just one thing, really,” you murmur. “S’really important though.”

JJ glances down and sees your eyelids beginning to sag. Your breath smells like wine and cherry and custard and sugar. It’s sweet like you. “Makin’ me nervous.”

“I guess the only thing I want for Christmas,” you say, yawning again, “is you.”

JJ’s smile is wiped clear from his face like snow washed away in a morning shower. No. Surely…He definitely must have misheard.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. A smile starts to tickle his skin, giddy like a boy on his first Christmas. He scans the room and finds a picture of the two of you pinned to the wall, and he smiles brighter. Because John B was right, and his wish came true, and you want him the way he wants you. Hell, he might be lucky enough that you love him too.

“Wait, do you–”

But before JJ can go on to question, he looks down to find you’re already asleep. Barely-there snores slip through your lips. He smiles to himself and sweeps a finger across your forehead, brushing back some of your hair. Your nose scrunches and it’s so adorable, it takes everything in JJ not to shake you awake and kiss you.

Not tonight, though.

After he’s eased you under the covers, JJ lingers by the side of your bed. Then, he dips down and presses a kiss to your forehead. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll tell you how he feels.

“You’re all I want for Christmas, too,” JJ whispers against your skin.

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accioscarheadthings · 6 months ago

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How are you? 😊

Please a Kenji Sato x American shy!reader? They’re dating and Kenji took her to Japan for the first time and shows her around. (I never went to Japan before & me don’t like sushi or spicy 😂). When shy!reader was walking around Japan and went to the tallest building or just an abandoned building to watch the stars or the moon but accidentally fell but thankfully Kenji saves her just in time as Ultraman, telling her, “theirs my girl”

https://youtu.be/hHkkwx0ZWXI?si=B0I-MsoR5hgbYq7N

hello love!! i'm great. thank you for asking. how are you? <3

of course, i hope you like this one;) sry that this ne took too long, wi was caught up with college. lemme know if there are any errors.

My stupid

pairing: kenji x shy!gf!reader

this contains: loads of fluff, use of petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart)

summary: kenji takes you to japan for the first time and shows you around. when you go to a building for stargazing, you don't pay attention to your surroundings and accidentally trip off the buidling.

masterlist !

you walked through the bustling streets of tokyo alongside kenji, feeling the city's vibrant energy envelope you. you clutched his arm tightly, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

kenji glanced down at you, a warm smile on his face, "impressed?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

you nodded, your eyes wide as you took in the vibrant scene. the city was a sensory overload, with its bright lights, colorful billboards, and the constant hum of activity.

"it's so different from home," you finally managed to say, your voice laced with awe.

kenji squeezed your hand reassuringly, "that's Tokyo for you," he responded, a hint of pride in his voice, "but there's so much more to japan than just the big cities,"

kenji took you on a culinary adventure through various restaurants and eateries, eager to introduce you to the diverse range of japanese cuisine.

some dishes, like the tender, buttery slices of tonkatsu, were delightful. however, others, such as the tangy taste of takuan pickles, were an acquired taste.

one dish, however, proved to be a unanimous dislike – sushi. the thought of eating raw fish made you wrinkle your nose in disdain.

kenji noticed a bit of food at the corner of your mouth, swallowing his bite of steak.

"what?" you blinked at him, trying to bat at your mouth, "do i have something on my face?"

"let me," kenji leaned over from the opposite of the table, his hand resting low on the column of your neck to hold you in place.

he closed his mouth at the edge of your lips, tongue caressing softly to get the crumb on your face.

a group of people passing by identified him, whispering between themselves and wolf-whistling at the intimate moment between you both.

when he pulled back, you felt the blood rush to your face as you stared down at your food with wide eyes, "i-you did not-" you stammered at a loss of words, "t-that was unnecessary,"

kenji sat back in his seat, his lips curling in a smug grin. he slung his arm over the head of his chair, "not if it can get you all bothered and cute,"

you felt your lips tug up, your resolve faltering, "shut up," you kicked his legs under the table when he chuckled in adoration.

as the night drew to a close, kenji took you to the rooftop of a building, a secret spot he loved to visit at the edge of the city, away from the crowd.

the view was breathtaking – stars twinkling overhead and the cityscape stretching out below.

you both laid down on the cool concert, snuggled against each other for warmth. a comfortable silence fell between you as you simply took in the moment's beauty, staring up at the stars.

"this is beautiful," you murmured, breaking the silence.

kenji turned his head to look at you, a fond smile on his face, "i knew you would love it," he replied, shifting closer to you, "there's something magical about watching the stars from here,"

you snuggled deeper into his side, feeling warm and content. your eyes closed in a sigh when he pressed a kiss on your temple.

the two of you shared a set of earphones, heads bobbing together to the music playing as you pointed at the constellations and random shapes the stars lined up to form.

just then, kenji's watch beeped, alerting him about a kaiju attack, he sat up immediately, making you follow his actions.

kenji placed his side of the earphones on your other ear, the soft music from his watch filling your ears. he leaned in and gently kissed you, his touch warm, affectionate, and apologizing for the interruption.

"I have to go deal with a situation as ultraman," he whispered in your ear, his voice serious.

you nodded, understanding the necessity of his duties. as he walked away, you continued to watch the stars, lost in thought and the gentle melody playing in your ears.

after a while, you began wandering in the small space of the terrace, listening to your song and feeling the night wind hit your face.

suddenly, the realization of your surroundings hit you like a wave. You had been so engrossed in the music that you hadn't noticed that you had inched closer to the edge of the rooftop.

the ground below loomed like a menacing abyss, its depths obscured by the darkness of the night.

startled, you took a step back, but it was too late.

you teetered on the edge, the weight of your body tipping you precariously over the drop.

in the nick of time, a pair of strong hands cupped and caught your body, preventing you from falling any further.

the music in your ears abruptly cut off, replaced by a familiar voice.

"there's my girl," ultraman murmured, his tone a mixture of relief and admonishment.

you stared up at his metal suit, his eyes glowing, and tried to calm down your breathing from the rush of the fall.

ultraman slowly set you on top of the building before transforming back to his human form. he stood in front of you, holding your face in worry, "you're not hurt, aren't you? thank goodness i made it back in time,"

but you didn't answer him; the realization of your stupidity sunk in, and you couldn't help but laugh at your own foolishness.

"i really am stupid, am I?" you said, a hint of sheepishness in your voice.

kenji had a soft smile playing on his lips, his raven bangs blowing in the wind, "yeah, you are," he replied, his voice affectionate. "but you're my stupid,"

you felt a pang of affection in your heart at his words, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, "and you're stuck with me," you say, unable to resist teasing him a little.

kenji chuckled, his eyes glistening with mirth, "that I am," he confirmed, closing the gap between you by pulling you closer, "and I wouldn't have it any other way,"

#ken sato #ultraman #emi ultraman #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ultraman rising x reader #accioscarheadthings #kenji sato x reader fluff

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animasola86 · 8 months ago

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SMUT DRABBLES*: Car Inspection

A/N: Yet another little smut scene, *no longer a drabble (Drabble? Who's she?), but still short. Like with my other drabbles, you can imagine any character you want here, it's usually just a man and a woman having a good time. Today I give you oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex and creampies. And cars (so think up an AU where it works, if you will).

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 1.3k // AO3

“Lemme take a look under the hood, miss,” he's said, and now she's sitting on the warm metal, gripping his broad shoulders, legs held open by strong hands, while he has his head buried under her skirt.

His tongue is as hot as the sun batting down on them, licking through her folds with fervor and certainty, expert motions, warm lips, teasing teeth, kissing, sucking, nibbling, pulling her sensitive skin into his mouth, nose rubbing against her clit.

He's lapping at her like a man starved, the slurping and squelching noises mixing with the chirp of cicadas, the subtle squeak of the car beneath her, her own rapid breaths. He's good, knows what to do, where to look and lick. She's come to the right place.

Her skirt obstructs the view, but she's still on display, writhing and squirming, bare feet squeaking over the metal hood in an attempt to anchor herself. He's ruthless in his assault, focusing now fully on that sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue around it, laving it, sucking on it.

She's losing it, her head spinning, it's too hot, the air is stale and dry, and her lungs are protesting. The tension in her belly is like a burning thing, growing and expanding, filling her out like she wishes he would fill her out.

He groans into her, the sound vibrating through her clenching cunt. His hands move, one big palm pressed to her stomach, forcing her down on her back, the other slipping under the tent of her skirt as well. He's teasing her, nibbling on her clit while his fingers slide through her slick before they take a dip into her heat, plunging deep, two at once, pushing in and out, scissoring inside her, stretching, massaging, curling against that sweet spot.

She arches her back, shoulders pressed into the hood, cries out, thighs trembling around his shoulders, her own shaking hand gripping at his wrist, nails sinking into his skin before he slips his long fingers between hers, holding her hand, heavy on her stomach. He pumps his other digits into her, licks her clit, the tension explodes within her. Their joined hands hold her down when she convulses, jerks her hips against his face and fingers, shivering under the hot sun.

He licks up every drop with broad strokes of his tongue, his fingers moving slower, bringing her down gently before they retreat, gripping her twitching thigh, warm and slick and strong, while he pushes his mouth to her lower lips, kisses her deeply, tongue pressing into her quivering hole.

She wails again, quietly in the open space, her voice drowned by the screeching insects trying to be louder.

He's shifting, emerging from under her skirt, nose and lips and chin glistening in her juices, hair messy, face flushed. She's also red in the face, panting, trying to avoid those hungry eyes. His hands find her warm cheeks when he straightens up, towering over her.

His kiss tastes tangy, salty, sweet, all at once and more, her own taste on his tongue as he claims her mouth. She moans into it, clinging to his bare back, sweat slick and strong, muscles flexing beneath sun touched skin. He pushes her up the hood of the car, his hips between her shaking legs, pinning her down, skirt flipped up entirely now. His body is blocking the view, she couldn't care less who sees her.

With his tongue wrestling hers, he grips her waist, one hand disappearing between them, the clink of a belt, the whirring scrape of a zipper, a little groan when he grips his cock and guides it to her dripping cunt. She moans into his mouth, fingernails sinking into his skin while he sinks into her, small frantic rolls of his hips as he slowly fucks her open, stretches her, fills her, in and out, inch by inch until he's bottomed out.

His hands on her hips pull her into him, closer, deeper, her legs spasm against him before she hooks them around his thick thighs. Muscles flex under denim, his grip rough as he starts pulling out to slam back in, over and over again, his grunts as loud as her moans, the kiss messy and breathless.

She's lightheaded, sun-burnt, a sweaty mess in his strong grip, her hands gripping at his waist, leaving angry crescent-shaped marks as she squirms against him, trying to meet his thrusts.

He leans back, leaving her tingling lips, presses his forehead to hers, eyes staring into her soul, warm and dark and mesmerizing, hungry, breaths hot and dizzying, mingling. His hips slam into her slower, deeper, setting an excruciating rhythm, taunting, teasing, slow and steady while they're both burning under the sun, the heat inside her belly almost as unbearable.

She's whimpering, grinding her pelvis into him, digs her heels into his lower back, eyes pleading. The smirk on his lips makes her angry, growling through her gritted teeth. His hands tighten around her hips, fingers bruising, and when he leans back fully, a barely there shadow falling onto her shaking body, looking down at her, he stops moving altogether, cock hard and swollen inside her clenching cunt.

She wants to protest, whine, beg, but he only looks at her, tilting his head, before he slowly moves back, cockhead scraping against her tight walls, before he slams back in with a force that makes her yelp, flinch, cry out, as he hits her deepest spot, tip squished against her cervix.

The pain is there, sharp, short, dissipating slowly before it's back, dragging retreat, the hint of reprieve, then another deep stab, hard, fast, agonizing. Again and again, until he grows impatient and just hammers into her, her moans and cries broken up, voice strained, helpless, as his cock pistons in and out, rough and unrelenting, and all she can do is take it.

He grunts, sweat running down his temple, a fine sheen on his bare torso, muscles flexing, his teeth bared and gritted, hands digging into her soft skin. Pull, push, stab. Pull, push, stab. Her own sweat mixes with tears, her cries soundless little puffs of air, her head filled with vertigo and bliss, pain and pleasure. One big hand splayed on her hip, the other moving between them, thumb pressing hard against her clit, and she yelps again, and again, coming hard around his pounding cock, juices coating his length, squelching out with every deep slam.

The car is rocking beneath them, suspension squeaking, needs to be oiled. She's come to the right place. Come at the right place. Over and over again until she's a boneless mess, lying on the hood of her car, arms splayed out beside her, sweaty palms squeaking over metal with every deep thrust, body moved up and down, insides convulsing, muscles contracting, tight around his thick cock. He grunts, groans, huffs, head red under the sun, under the exertion, working overtime.

He comes with a low growl, animalistic, body twitching against her, burying himself deep within her clenching heat, balls tightening, cock spasming, filling her with his hot seed, spurt after burning spurt. She gasps when his hand pushes on her stomach, before he slowly pulls out, panting, eyes glued to her reddened pussy, watching intently, an expert's eye, head tilted, then he slaps his hand on her folds, making her wince.

She's pulled onto her feet, barely able to think, to function, dizzy from the sun and the special service. He lifts her feet, one at a time, puts her panties back on, slides them up her shaking legs. His cum drips down her inner thigh, slowly, slow enough for him to gather it on his finger and push it back up, between her glistening folds, back into her clenching hole. She moans at the sensation, gripping his arm for support. He keeps his finger in her while he pulls her underwear back in place, pumping it slowly before removing it, gently dragging his wet fingertip between her covered folds, trapping his seed.

“I believe there's been a leak, miss,” he says, fixing her skirt, making her presentable again as he looks at her with a proud smile, having found the problem, while she looks up at him with a soft giggle, feeling their combined juices drenching the fabric between her trembling thighs.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

MORE SMUT DRABBLES:

A steamy shower

Toy

Sleepy

Tension Relief

#smut #mysmut #ao3 smut #smut drabble #smut writer #smut writing #smut prompts #original smut #sebastian sallow smut #tom riddle smut #mattheo riddle smut #harry potter smut #joel miller smut #arthur morgan smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #simon ghost riley smut #mechanic!joel #mechanic!dean

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loveandleases · 3 months ago

Note

And if we explain the pineapple thing to him ? 😁🤣

You shake the container of pineapple chunks in front of Cam, letting it bang against the counter to get his attention. Once he pulls his attention from his phone, he arches a brow at you, “Are you hungry or somethin’ ?”

He motions to the container, tapping his long fingers against the plastic.

“It’s not for me, it’s for you.”

Cam sticks his tongue out, piercing glinting from the overhead light. “Thanks, but no thanks. Not hungry, besides I can’t stand that shit.” He shakes his head, pushing the container towards you.

The container is shoved back and forth, and Cam finally gives up when you shove it hard enough to slide off the counter and into his lap. “I’m not eatin’ them,” he says.

“Cam, just try a few bites.”

“No.”

“Cam c’mon. For me.” It’s time to pull out the big guns.

“Don’t!” He yells, finger pressing against your forehead as you bend toward him, hands clasped together.

“Cammie~” The lilt of your voice causes his cheeks to redden, nostrils flaring with annoyance.

“No! This isn’t fair, you’re playing dirty!”

You widen your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as you bat your lashes at him.

“Damn you! Why the hell should I eat them?” Cam’s palm rests on your forehead, trying to ignore the look on your face but he’s weak. So weak, that each time he looks in your direction, the strength behind his hand weakens. “Why?” He croaks.

“For one, it’s full of Vitamin C.”

He huffs a breath, hand gripping the container as his eyes glance at the trash bin nearby.

“Wait, hear me out.”

“You better talk quick, or I’m tossin’ it.” He warns, arching his arm back to test if he could make the throw.

“It’s supposed to be good for blood flow, so no erectile dysfunction.”

Crimson looks good on him, you had to admit, as his ears begin to match the color of his cheeks. “I-I.. I don’t need help with that!”

He begins to yank his arm back. Your hands grab onto his hand pressed against your forehead. “Wait, wait okay? I heard it could make your cum taste sweeter. I thought we could try it.” The words fumble from your mouth as Cam stares at you, mouth dropped open.

You begin to wonder if he’s heard you at all as he jerks his hand from your forehead, taking heavy steps toward the direction of the trash bin.

“Cam-“

He quickly opens the container, tilting his head back as he pours the contents into his mouth. His cheeks are overly full as he tosses the container into the trash turning to you as he chews with such fervor, that you’d think he was getting paid.

He swallows quickly, juice from the pineapple slipping down his chin as he licks the remains from his lips. A dark look crosses his face, one that causes you to take a step back, your body pressing against the counter.

Strands of his copper hair cover his eyes from you as he takes large steps in your direction, resting a hand on each side of you, pinning you against the cabinet. He shifts just enough that you can see his mismatched eyes. Wide, fixed on you with an unnerving hunger that causes you to swallow hard. He looks as if he could devour you right here in the kitchen,

“What’s wrong? Was it that bad - mmph.”

His lips capture yours in a hungry kiss, one of his hands fisting your hair to pull your head backward just enough that he looks down at you. His tongue slips along your lips, teeth raking against them as his tongue delves inside. A tangy sweetness fills your mouth, coating your tongue. The kiss is desperate, as desperate as his eyes as they watch you.

His knee slides between your legs, effortlessly parting them as it nudges upward. His voice is deep, raspy. “I.... I want to test it on you first.” It’s all the warning he gives you before he drops to his knees in front of you, looking up at you as he tries to steady his breathing, yet the warmth of his face betrays how bold he pretends to be.

"Let's see just how sweet you are."

#love and leases #loveandleases #cam #soft ns fw

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blueicequeen19 · 2 years ago

Text

Right Side Of Wrong

Warnings: JJ & John B’s off limits sister 👀

I love this trope. I’ll write it 100 times 🔥

Part Two

I propped myself up on some pillows and leaned back against my headboard, tangy scented smoke filling the air as I exhaled from my weed pen. I was freshly showered wearing only a pair of boxers with my legs sprawled out, my comforter kicked to the foot of my bed as I fought to erase the inappropriate thoughts I was having about my best friends little sister.

Y/N Routledge had been in my life as long as John B had. The three of us did everything together until we didn’t. She was my annoying little sister too, until she wasn’t. I constantly had to hear about John B being the over protective big brother and running everyone off that looked at her. Or asked about her. Or so much as walked in her direction.

For awhile, I was helping run off all the boys. Now part of me was glad that no one had touched her yet. She had the face of an Angel and the body of the devil. And she slowly began to realize that. She dressed for attention now and she was sure getting a lot from it. It was hard not to notice with her long, tan legs and perky tits. Her ass bounced with every step she took and my palm itched to smack the smooth flesh.

I couldn’t sleep without her invading my every fantasy. I wanted to know what she felt like.. on the inside and the outside. I wanted to taste her skin and her pussy. I wanted to know what those tits looked like when she bounced on my cock. I wanted to know what she sounded like when she came and when she gagged on me. I wanted to know if she was a squirter or a crier. If she’d like her hair pulled or choked. She was a brat, she probably liked both.

“JJ?” I blink back to reality, seeing Y/N standing at the foot of my bed in the same tiny bikini she wore in the hot tub tonight. I thought the vein in John B’s forehead was going to burst when he saw her. I suddenly realized I was sporting a hard on and her eyes were locked on it, making me harder. I yanked the comforter up over my waist to conceal myself but the damage was done. She wasn’t hiding her curiosity.

“W-what are you doing in here, Y/N?” I asked, trying to slow my racing heart. All the blood in my body seemed to be racing to my dick and I couldn’t stop it. She looked like a fucking wet dream.

“I just wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything.” She said with fake innocence, batting her lashes at me as she rounded the bed and sat on the edge next to me. My hands fisted the comforter as she checked me out, not even bothering to hide her interest. Her eyes lingered on the shark tooth necklace, probably remembering the night she made it for me.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” I tried to keep my voice even but my dick was so hard it hurt. I was going to have to rub one out at least a four times tonight.

“You sure about that? Nothing bothering you?” Her eyes moved down to my waist where I was clutching the comforter. Why was she doing this? The ultimate forbidden fruit offering herself up on a silver platter.

“Nope.” I swallowed hard.

“Okay.” Her brows furrowed, obviously not buying it. I watched as she reached behind her back and untied her top, letting it fall freely and exposing her perfect tits to me. I looked away, heat coursing through my body.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” I bit out. She took my hand, placing it over one of her tits and making me squeeze.

“Seizing the opportunity.” Her voice is soft and seductive, reminding me that I am not a strong man. Her hand falls from mine as I start to squeeze and pinch her nipple, rolling it between two fingers. I wanted to pinch her clit next. How wet would she be right now for me?

“We can’t do this.” I pull my hand away and she gives a small pout.

“Why not?” She tries to pull the comforter back but I don’t let her. I fix her with a knowing look, trying to keep my resolve from slipping.

“You know why. You’re like my sister.” I spit the words like they leave a bad taste in my mouth but she only chuckles, getting to her feet then throwing her leg over me to straddle me. I throw my hands up, sinking against the headboard as far as I can.

“You don’t look at me like a sister.” She leans in and whispers in my ear, her hands against my bare chest.

“I’m getting all this male attention when I’ve only ever wanted yours, JJ.” I fight to catch my breath but I can’t. My dick was jabbed into her thigh and I could feel the heat from her pussy.

“Stop.” I pant, wishing I had the strength to push her away.

“But you’re so hard, JJ. I can feel you.” His sultry voice in my ear as my eyes almost rolling back in my head. I can’t move my hands from their spot fisting the comforter or I’m liable to shove her on her back and eat that forbidden pussy like it’s my last meal.

“John B.” I bite out, shuddering when her lips ghost over my cheek and down my neck.

“This isn’t about him. This is about me and you and what’s coming. What’s been coming.” She kisses my neck just once and my restraint withers away by half. I swallow the lump in my throat just as her tongue swipes out and licks where she just kissed.

“He would hate me.” I rasp, feeling her tongue and teeth along my sweet spot. I had chills up and down my arms. She was pushing every single one of my buttons with her arms draped over my shoulders and her tits pressed against my chest. Her nipples were so hard against my skin, begging for my teeth.

“He would understand.” Then she bites me. Hard. It’s claiming and something inside me snaps. My arms circle her waist and I slam her down on her back on the bed, making her gasp in surprise. An animalistic sound leaves my throat as I gaze at her willing body. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to start but my cock knew.

I dive down and suck one of her pert nipples into my mouth, slapping my hand over her lips in time to muffle her cries. Her hands find my hair as I suck and bite her needy little buds one at a time until she’s withering and whimpering beneath me.

My hand slid between us and I groaned, feeling the heat and juices slipping from her already. My thumb barely swiped over her clit when there’s a pounding on my door, snapping me from my trance. I jump back, getting as far from her as I can when John B’s voice comes through the door.

“Yo, you hungry? We’re ordering pizza.” My heart was racing, I could barely register what he said as I palmed my chest. Y/N kicked me gently to get my attention.

“Yea! Pizza’s fine!” I call back.

“Okay! Have you seen Y/N? She wasn’t in her room.” John B asks and I move further away from her and her tempting tits. Her eyes narrow at me as she tries to determine what I’m going to say. God, if he hadn’t knocked on the door I would’ve fucked her. Fucked her with a house full of Pogues like she wasn’t off limits to everyone on this island.

“No, last time I seen her she was outside!” I call back, yanking on a pair of sweats and grabbing a pillow to conceal my hard on. Y/N spreads her legs and slides her delicate hand down her body, slowly running the tip of her finger over her clit until she panting softly. Oh god.

My dick jerks with the need to be buried inside something hot and wet.

“Okay, I’ll check outside.” John B’s voice makes me jump again, my nerves fucking shot.

“Okay! I’ll come help!” I hear his disappearing footsteps and I move to run after him when she slips her bikini bottoms to the side, revealing a glistening bare cunt.

All the air leaves my lungs and I step back until my back meets the wall, my jaw hanging open and my knees damn near giving out. She whimpers softly, circling her clit and gathering her wetness on her fingers before plunging a finger inside herself.

“Cum with me, JJ.” She moans under her breath, adding a second finger to her clenching hole.

“Nope. Nope. I can’t do this.” I feel like I’m having a heart attack as I make a mad dash for my bathroom, shutting myself inside just as I hear her rapidly approaching footsteps. I lock the door and plant my back against, hearing her curse on the other side.

“I won’t stop, JJ. I won’t.” I groan, hearing the determination in her voice before she walks away.

I quickly shove my sweats and boxers down, fisting my cock hard as the picture of her fingering herself plays on loop in my head. I could hear how wet she was. Her pussy should’ve been sucking on my cock, not her fingers.

I barely stroke myself three times and I cum harder than I have in a very long time, unable to catch my breath as I realize just how royally fucked I am.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx3

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readerstories · 4 months ago

Text

In Rain and Mud - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/4

Saw the movie in theaters finally, brainworm ofc came in strong. (Part 2) (Part 3) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: male reader, eventual canon-typical violence, blood, eventual smut

Wordcount: 996

Summary: Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything. And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town. So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything.

It’s how you want it, how you want to live most of the time.

Leaves you with peace to read your book in front of the roaring fire keeping the chill out, lounging in grey sweatpants and a loose green t-shirt.

And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town.

So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

You stop right in front of it, hand on the handle as you sniff, trying to smell and hear whoever is there on the other side.

“Come on! Let us in, drowning in the storm or blowing away would be a really sucky way to die!” Hearing the man is not difficult as he yells to be heard over the howling winds, all you can smell is the rain and your own cabin. You open the door just little more than a crack, keeping your shotgun hidden behind the door for the moment. Two men stands on your porch, bathed in your porch light, the darkness behind them filled with the swoosh of wind, moving trees, and rain,

“Who the fuck are you?” You look at the man in the red and black suit that was banging on your door just seconds ago, briefly glancing from his masked face to his frowning companion behind him, that guy in a yellow and blue suit.

“Oh thought you would never ask!” Red reaches behind him and yanks Yellow next to him, an arm over Yellow’s shoulder, which gets him a grunt and a fist in his side from Yellow, though Red doesn’t visibly react to the punch.

“I’m Deadpool, but you can call me Wade for short.” Deadpool splays a hand on his own chest as he presents himself. “And this handsome frowny face,” He grabs Yellow’s chin, “This is Wolverine, or Logan if you want less of a mouthful.” Wade winks, Logan batting away Wade’s hand from his face.

You look them up and down, fully taking in what looks like costumes, that are ripped and bloody in places. Deadpool, or Wade, is sporting two kantanas, two guns in thigh holsters, one knife in a leg holster, and a utility belt. Logan has no visible weapons, though you note the grey slits between the knuckles on his gloves.

“You some kind of heroes? Villains?”

“Merchanaries actually!” Wade voice is surprisingly chipper for someone that is soaked to the bone in ripped clothes. “At least for now while we make ends meet.” Logan pushes Wade’s arm off his shoulder, taking a step to the side as you look at them both.

You grunt.

“Leave the weapons outside.”

“Don’t trust us sweetcheeks?”

“Who the fuck would? Leave em or you can wash away with the rain for all I care.” Wade shrugs, taking off his weapons and putting them on the porch. As he does so, you look at Logan.

“You got any?”

“No.” You catch a whiff of the tangy stench of a lie on that one gruff word, but don’t bother pushing it. You can’t see any right now, not much he could have hidden in the suit, and it’s not like you can’t defend yourself without being armed or prepared.

Without weapons, you let them inside, shutting out the storm once more.

“Take off your shoes, mud.” You order as you unload your shotgun, putting the shells in your pocket, leaning the gun next to the door.

“Hate to ask hot stuff, you got any spare clothes? Would hate, hate, hate to track water and blood all over this rustic but so, so chic wooden floors.

“Yeah.” You walk off to your bedroom to check your closet.

“Ohhhh a man of few words, you and Logan match! I think we’ll get along great cuddling up here together.” There’s a sound that sounds like a punch followed by an “ouf” from Wade. You snort.

Rifling through your dresser, you grab one black hoodie, one blue hoodie, two black sweatpants, two pairs of socks, and two boxers,

You return to the living room with the clothes, where Wade has already started stripping off clothes, leaving him in just pants while Logan is still fully dressed in his soaked suit. You ignore the scars covering all the skin you can see on the almost nude Wade, handing him the bundle with the blue hoodie, while Logan gets the black one.

“So you get the sexy grey pants while we are stuck with boring black? Is this that kinda porn?” You imagine if Wade had any eyebrows they would be wiggling. You ignore his comment.

“Towels under the sink,” You point towards the door of your bathroom, “Food is the kitchen corner, liquor in the cabinet in the corner, the spare bedroom has one bed. Share it or take the couch, don’t care, just don’t fuck on either.” Logan scowls at you, Wade laughs.

“Look pookie, I’m not the only one that thinks we have unsolved sexual tension, the writer thinks so too!” This time you see the punch, this time it topples Wade over, sending him to the floor with a bang. You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to bed, help yourselves, and we’ll see if the weather has cleared up in the morning so you can leave without drowning.” With that, you leave them their own devices, grabbing your book, and for good measure and show, your shotgun on your way to the bedroom.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you hear Wade start talking again with the occasional grunt from Logan in response, though trough the wall and with the howling storm it is easy enough to tune out the sounds of two other people in your space so you can fall asleep.

#logan howlett x male reader #wolverine x male reader #logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x male reader #wade wilson x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool x male reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #wolverine fic #deadpool fic #marvel fic #deadpool and wolverine fic #male!reader #written #male reader

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the-ultimate-squish · 1 year ago

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#sot2023 #sot2023r1 #Tangie the Bat #Petula the Unicorn #tournament poll #poll

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angstigone · 5 months ago

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(A/N): based on a true story or a very rude lady who literally chainsmoked five cigarettes while standing next to my family table, unapologetically and uncartng that although we were outside our table was attached to their own.

«it's the third cigarette» aki muttered underneath his breath while looking over your shoulder; your cheeks flustered lightly and you lowered your head in shame, as if it was your fault.

aki was a smoker: he had definitely smoked in places where he shouldn't have and he definitely had consumed a packet in a day, but something had changed when he had met you, his girl.

as cheesy as it sounded, the slight grimace on your face when you had first kissed at the taste of tobacco on his tongue - he had been nervous enough to resort to a cigarette while you had been off to the bathroom on your first date - had been enough to convince him.

he hadn't yet quit - the stress of denji and power was enough - but he had lowered his consume adapting his addiction to you: he didn't smoke in your presence. he assured himself that his breath wouldn't hold tobacco when he went to pick you up for any dates and he had even forced a few of his squad to avoid smoking before meeting you on a nights out.

it wasn't just for your safety and preference, though, that aki hayakawa was gradually leaving out smoking: he had taken to get used to your soft perfume, nothing that could be achieved through chemicals or perfumes; there was something comforting in the way he could recognize your persona by simply your natural odor.

and he dreaded the thought of it being overwhelmed by the tangy and heavy smell of smoken tobacco.

hence, why as the woman at the table behind your own went to take her third cigarette of the night, he brought up the fact; when she had gotten the first out after having asked whether she'd be allowed to smoke as the tables were outside of the restaurant, he hadn't noticed it and only at the second he had felt the similar smell, noticing that your smile was slightly forced.

he had relented from actively confronting the woman, hopeful that when she'd be served the bad habit would be eradicated but the first course had just arrived and she had extracted the thin stick from her pocket while talking animatedly with her commensals.

as aki was - indeed - a smoker, he usually wouldn't have said shit: they were outside and allowed to smoke. still, seeing as the tables were quite near due to the overcrowded situation at the elegant restaurant, it'd have been nice for the woman to at least ask as your chair had bumped against her own a few times and shew must know that the smoke all went to you.

and aside the health hazard, aki knew how much you enjoyed taking care of yourself when you'd go on a date out: he knew better than to insist for you 'to take it easy', as it seemed that you felt pride in making yourself pretty for him, whether it was a pretty lipstick or a new hairstyle. and who was aki to say no to such a prancing?

and who was he not to say anything to that lady, who was ruining all your hard work?

«it's alright, aki» your hand went to his own, as aki noticed that his knee lightly bounced in mix of annoyance and willigness to do something «... it isn't that... bad».

it might not be but it was bothering you and aki prided on your dates being good for you, above anything else.

«I'll just make her aware» he settled, ignoring your slightly pleading look, knowing that you tended to be non confrontational in such matters for the sake of enjoying the date, but aki couldn't enjoy the date with the thought of your discomfort. he could have sat himself down and ignored the woman but he'd have kept on counting how many cigarettes the woman had «... excuse me, ma'am?».

the woman turned unpenitent, with her cigarette going to her other hand not to blow smoke in aki's face; so she had a bit of shame. good.

«can I help you?» he lightly batted her eyelashes to aki, not knowing that the sole one who could make such a trick work was you; not that you'd need to bat your eyes to have aki wrapped around your finger.

«yes, I actually think you can» aki still thought he'd use the woman's obvious attraction as he gently smiled like he did whenever he'd have to clean denji's or power's messes «... you see, my girlfriend is right behind you and as you are smoking and the whole situation is quite crowded... it is getting all over her».

at the mention of 'girlfriend' the woman - who could have been his mother - soured in her expression and aki knew that albeit his gentle demeanor, it'd be difficult.

«... I am outside» the woman pointed out, lightly tapping the cigarette against the ash container «... and I did ask whether I could smoke».

«I understand, ma'am» the temptation to simply show her his devil hunter badge was intense, but he knew that you'd have felt even more uncomfortable and he could spy a slight embarassment on your face with his side-eye «... I wouldn't object if the tables weren't so close and...».

«... and it isn't my fault» the woman's smile was straight up poisonous as she turned back to her friend as if aki hadn't ever been there, effectively dismissing him from the conversation.

aki knew that whatever he'd have done next would have ruined the night even more for you: he could have called over a waiter and asked for your table to be changed but you enjoyed the view from this specific table. he could have caused a scene and he'd have won inevitably but this would have heightened your embarassment.

he hated admitting defeat as he passed by your chair and gently lowered himself to your ear, noticing the slight trace of goosebumps at the familiar action and it took everything in him not to chase that trail with his lips.

«switch seats with me» he had ought to give you that place as it seemed a bit larger in size but he thought you might not mind as he could feel the smoke but less intensely.

«are you sure?» the smoke must have been bothering you truly much because you didn't make any attempt to shoot his proposal down as you'd have done whenever aki's overprotectiveness was bigger than the whole problem «... I don't...».

«I am sure» he gently plopped a kiss to your forehead, distinctly feeling their neighbor's eyes on him as he gently helped you up and into his own chair, gently pushing his jacket around your shoulders, if anything to shield you further.

in your seat he took a deep breath, hopeful that your neighbors would be gone soon and he could enjoy his evening better, although he already felt better, as you smiled genuinely at his attentions.

«... say the truth» you teased gently as your hand joined his over the table «... you were just missing the smoking, weren't you».

«you know, I don't care for that that much more» he shot back promptly, cradling your hand in his own as he gently went to kiss it «... I think I found a better and more healthy addiction».

and the way your eyes shied away from his was enough for him to understand that you knew it meant you.

you were his new addiction.

#Aki Hayakawa x Reader #Aki Hayakawa Fic #Aki Hayakawa x You #Aki Hayakawa x Y/N #Aki Hayakawa Fluff #CSM #CSM x Reader #CSM x Y/N #CSM x You #CSM Fic #not going to lie each time somebody smokes nearby I am like 'is this how aki would smell'#I stg there was this dude on the bus once #and he smelt of literally coal #like sirrrr #I know I could fix that oral fixation thought aki #just saying

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softly-sirius · 1 year ago

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The Staff Of The Bear Dating Vampire Gn! Reader Headcanons:

Currently on Shift: Carmen Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich & Sydney Adamu

Carmen

At first, thought it was kinda weird that you had a mini fridge with a padlock in your room

You told him it was where you kept your vintage jeans

Which was a complete lie, so when Carmen told you he collected jeans too?

Well, you had to spend a lot of time researching on the computer to cover that lie up

Will make you blood-infused recipes to show you he accepts you

Red velvet cake with blood instead of beetroot

Honestly, would eat it as well

Ends up getting a little obsessed with making stuff the perfect texture

Asks you loads of questions about blood

What do you like about it? Do different types taste different? How do you like it prepared?

He wants to know everything about your preferences so he can make everything perfect

I think Carmy's vampire partner would struggle the most with being a vampire and not a human

So eating the food Carmen makes you will make you tear up sometimes because it reminds you so much of being human

Kinda wants you to bite him, but also kinda does not

So So Nervous about it, but you never bring it up

You can hear his pulse racing when he’s stressed so you always know when he needs help

You’ll kiss his pulse point when you notice him stressing out

He washes his hands a million times when he’s back from work in case of garlic

Before he knew the secret he once brought you some garlic bread

Your nose burnt for a week, your throat even longer

You couldn't bring yourself not to eat it when he gave you those eyes

Carmen has sunscreen for you in summer and insists on it even if it does nothing

The hot summer in Chicago just makes you extra exhausted and sluggish so you need to feed more

He knows when you’re slacking on your feeding and will make you blood puddings (now with real blood)

When he does pluck up his courage and ask about biting he finds out he kinda likes it

Loves it when your teeth scrape his most sensitive areas

He really likes it when you bite at the pudge of his stomach, though it isn’t the best spot for you to feed from

But your bites are more love bites than actually feeding from him

Overall, he is not as chill as Richie would be with a vampire partner, but that's because he isn’t chill about anything

He’s just happy someone likes him :’)

Richie

“You’re a vampire? My baby’s a vampire?”

He would love you to bite him, wants to see your teeth marks all over him

Was jealous for a while wondering where you were getting blood from

Who were you biting? Did they taste better than him?

He was not having that

Read that papayas make blood taste better so he starts eating them all the time

Starts taking iron tablets in case that tangy taste is what gets you going

‘Accidentally’ cuts himself in the kitchen to see your reaction.

It’s minimal

Eventually, he just gives in and is like,

“Why have you not drunk from me yet?”

Moans when you bite him, it’s probs made him nut let's be real

Loves to have your bite marks all over him, on his thighs, his chest, his arms

Wants you to feed from him until he goes dizzy and can’t stand

Loses his mind when his blood drips from your lips and you stare at him all predatory

Turns red when you tell him how good he tastes

Enjoys being taken care of afterwards

Makes you watch Blade a million times

Calls himself your toyboy (even if you’re not that old a vampire or younger than him)

Whenever he sees bats he’ll tell you he saw one of your friends

Talks to the bats sometimes

Keeps blood in a wine bottle for you at the restaurant and loves to pour it for you and take care of you when you visit

Loves to cuddle up to you in summer because your body is nice and cold

The most interested in your ‘powers’ and asks you a million questions

“You or Godzilla, who would win?”

“Wait, so when you kept asking me to open all those jars?”

So smug when he realised how often you acted helpless just to get his help

Arm wrestles you all the time

Thinks if he catches you off guard he might win (Sometimes you let him)

He’s a loser, but he’s your tasty loser

Sydney

Laughs when she finds out and thinks it’s a joke

Probably bails on you for a little while

But then ends up coming back like…

"I didn’t think i could be ok with it, but I would rather be with you than without you"

Is grossed out by it, so you drink blood in private

She does not want to be bitten

Is the least chill with it, but she loves you so she deals

Will feel for your fangs every time you kiss, but you keep them hidden away

She gets mad at you when you go out when it’s really sunny

Keeps shades and an extra hat in her bag because sometimes you just turn up

She’ll be waking around the city and you just appear and ask to hang out

She thinks it’s a kind of power

She just forgot she added you on Find My Friends

Then she realises she can use your powers for her gain

Uses you when shopping second-hand to check if stuff is real silver

Buys you a gothic ring with a bat on it mostly as a joke

But you wear it all the time, it melts her little heart

Loves,when you turn into a little bat, especially if you look like a fruit bat

She’ll cradle you against her chest and stroke your head with her fingers

Will carry you around in her bag all day if you want to

She doesn’t call you her vampire but thinks of you as her bat

Thinks it’s pretty funny when you go as a vampire for Halloween every year

Especially when a drunk Richie starts complimenting how real your fangs are and pokes his fingers in your mouth

Is definitely not jealous that when Tina cut her finger during prep you had to step out of the room

Especially not when she sees the empty iron pouches in the trash

She knows they tide you over in emergencies till you can drink blood

Maybe she wants you to drink from her a little bit

Perhaps you’ll get to taste her one day after all, just as a little treat

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich fanfic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto headcanons #carmen berzatto fluff #sydney adamu x reader #sydney adamu headcanons #sydney adamu fanfic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #richie jerimovich blurb #richie jerimovich x you #sydney adamu imagine

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itsmistyeyedbi · 5 months ago

Text

bare your teeth, blunt as they may be

Pairing: F!Detective/F!Li-Sar and F!Detective/Adam du Mortain Word Count: 5,5k Warnings: Angst, Lots of sexual tension and descriptions of violence (but those are pretty tame, nothing graphic) Tags: @agentnatesewell @ava-du-mortain (you haven't asked but I know you've been waiting for this lol). Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics! Authors Note: I am done at last! I rewrote and edited this thing so much, I just had to stop at some point. I haven't settled on how Li-Sar looks so there isn't a whole lot of detailed description on her appearance (or her outfit; I'm so sorry but I cannot write her in what she's wearing in the books and I couldn't decide on another one for her), but Zuri is still pretty descriptive of her if I do say so myself. Also on a03!

The forest floor tastes like ash. Dry against her cheek, dry as her throat. She lands face first on the cracks of a former cage.

Zuri coughs, palms against the barren forest floor, arms shaking as she pushes herself up. Only her upper body makes it off the ground. She can't muffle the groan that escapes her lips. There's too much aching. In her limbs from blocking attacks, in her torso for taking one too many. Her knuckles, the side of her face, bruised. Her bottom lip, stinging, probably busted. Blood trickles down her chin and leaves a tangy taste in her mouth. She blinks and blinks and blinks the blurry vision away.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. The air is tinged with her magic - the same magic buzzing through her and flaring out of her in sparks. She's getting closer.

“Have I truly hurt you so, mortal?” She coos, her voice silky smooth from behind her. Zuri scrambles forward, trying to move her legs despite them feeling as heavy as cinder blocks. Li-Sar's tone shifts to something sharp with the promise of violence as she continues, “or is there another pathetic human being I need to rid this world of for you?”

Zuri slowly turns her head, eyes trailing up the length of her body before meeting her gaze and whimpering. Let her think it's over. Let her think she's done fighting-

Then kick.

Her foot strikes her in the calf. Li-Sar grunts, leg buckling slightly only because of how often she's been kicked there. She locks her foot around her ankle and the same leg crumbles to the ground. Dirt flies into the air when Li-Sar's forearms meet the floor. She manages to hold her weight on one arm long enough to reach for her gun. Aims it at her and-

“Come now.”

A hand hits her wrist, bats it away. It flies out of reach, accompanied by a dry laugh that's soon muffled by the ringing of a stray gunshot. It's hard enough to put Zuri on her back.

Li-Sar's head is framed with trees from her position above her. She's straddling her, thighs on either side of her, an arm pressing tight against her neck while the other wrestles away the hand reaching and clawing for her face. It's eventually pinned to the ground.

The ringing in her ears and hard landing disorients her enough for any move she makes to be sloppy, but not enough to drown out her next words. “You know that won't work on me.”

Her clothes cling to her body, crackling with static and suddenly she's off the ground. In the air. The world spins. Her back slams against something rough and flaky - a tree - and she wheezes in Li-Sar's grasp.

She shakes her head and tuts as she looks over her. She loosens her grip on her blazer, moving one hand up to Zuri's face, cupping her jaw and moving her head this way and that in inspection. Zuri feels more than hears herself protesting, her lip stinging as she says…something and squeezes her eyes shut so she doesn't have to watch her surroundings spin and droop in front of her.

Another coo. A thumb rubbing against her chin, blood smearing against her skin, het voice clear as the ringing fades away. “This isn't quite the mess I wanted to make of you, meor'dal.”

Zuri tries to focus on her breathing, ragged as it is, and opens her eyes to watch the trees that aren't obscured by the curls of her hair slowly come to a standstill. Anything but the sound of her voice or the feeling of her fingers on her skin. The way both imbed themselves into her mind.

“Listen, Li-Sar,” she rasps.

“Oh, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. Talk to me, I will listen to every word.” She brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks gently, her eyes flashing a bright white as she licks the blood off.

Her throat is still dry as she swallows and heat gathers in her cheeks. Why must she be so- God, this is ridiculous.

“You-” Zuri stammers, shying away from her gaze with an ahem before continuing. “It was stupid of them to come here and think they could take you on. Trappers are notorious for getting in over their heads.”

“So that's what those humans are? Trappers?” She scoffs. “A name fitting for those who foolishly throw themselves into a trap.”

“Right,” she meets her eyes again, watching carefully for a change in demeanour. She may not know what they're called, but she knew enough to draw them to her. Easy targets.

“We just came to get them away from here, take them in and figure out a motive.”

She wants to believe that they didn't intend to actually try and capture her - a being so powerful that her prison was interdimensional purgatory. She really does. But maybe years of eating dirt while fighting agents made them lose brain cells. That, or whoever orders them around found out about Sin and got cocky, thinking that they too could have a powerful, centuries old supernatural do their bidding. Whatever it is, it's ridiculous. So much so that the Agency sent her and the rest of Unit Bravo here to protect them from her - neutralise them and prevent as many deaths as possible.

Mostly so they don't have to play clean up. At least, that's what Morgan thinks.

They arrived while the Trappers were still alive and breathing and following hare-brained orders. They were standing around Li-Sar in a loose circle; she was watching them with a smirk and playing with the electricity dancing around her fingers. Probably pleased that her practice dummies delivered themselves to her. They started advancing slowly - at least they had enough brain cells to be afraid - and all she did in response was chuckle. The calm before the storm. She could and would wipe them out in seconds.

Zuri entered the scene with her hands raised. The powers had settled enough for them to not instantly open fire on people, especially when she remains calm. So with deep, calculated breaths, she used them to appear placating and harmless as she talked Li-Sar out of engaging them.

They aren't worth it, they wouldn't even be able to put up a good fight.

What do you suggest I do then, mortal?

Let me and my friends handle them. We'll get them out of your hair. It'll be more entertaining if nothing else. You could also catch a glimpse of that potential you're so interested in.

You and the vampiir in the shadows are…friends? You are full of surprises, aren't you? Fine then. Show me what you can do.

With a bright flash, she disappeared.

With her gone and the sun having sunk behind the trees, Unit Bravo was as strong as they could be while having Zuri in the vicinity. She may not be the sun or a centuries old deity, but the solar powers inside her were enough to prevent them from functioning at full strength. Not that it would be needed against a bunch of flighty, spooked Trappers.

It was a quick fight. Mission accomplished. It ultimately went well. Until it didn't.

One of them got up and tried to swing at her from behind. She saw the man in her periphery, lowered herself into a defensive stance. There wasn't enough time to dodge, but she could take him.

But not faster than Adam rushed forward to tackle him.

But he wasn't faster than Li-Sar, who appeared out of thin air and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.

He died on impact. Burnt to a crisp.

She missed Adam by a hair.

The air was heavy with tension and fear. Magic and blood. And she choked on it, too thick in her lungs as she gasped.

He could've been killed too.

It didn't take much to convince the vampires to stay back and for Li-Sar to join her somewhere more private - maybe even nostalgic for her - but she knows they aren't far. After what happened during their first encounter, they weren't going to leave the two of them alone for long.

She needs to be quick.

“But we can't exactly question someone who isn't alive,” she can still feel his blood on her side, can hear how it splattered against bark and damp grass. The way his body fell to the ground, joining the others that were groaning on the ground with a stillness that only comes after a heart stops beating.

Her own hammered in her chest.

“...why?” She asks, quietly, hoping for a good reason, knowing she won't get one.

“Why?” Li-Sar stares her down with a raised brow as if the question couldn't be more ridiculous. Like questioning her at all was even more so.

Louder this time, with anger rumbling beneath a layer of fear and frustration. “After thousands of years, you're free. And the first thing you want to do is kill some random group of humans!? Why?”

“They led themselves to their deathbeds the moment they thought they could have any control over me,” she snarls, the stare souring into a glare. “They are worth less than the dirt beneath our feet. Pests, at best. And I will not let a pest touch what is mine.”

Her jaw clenches, blood boiling, sparks flying off her fingers. God, she can't take anymore of this. Of people staking claim of her, believing she'll bend to their will or will be their tool to use for whatever they want to gain. Something ugly and destructive stirs within her, all sharp teeth and claws and molten heat, rearing its head after laying low for months and being smothered by fear and sadness.

She returns the glare and digs her nails into her wrists, drawing out a hiss. Electricity flares between them, vibrant streaks of blue where her palms meet her skin.

“And what,” she speaks through clenched teeth, her voice low and hackles raised, “makes you think any part of me is yours.”

Li-Sar's hands glitch out of her grip before she slams her against the tree again. Hard enough for the breath to be knocked out of her lungs. Her body is heavy against hers, forcing her gasps for air to be shallow, her tender ribs screaming as the bark pricks at her back. A hand grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.

“Is the power surging through you not my own? Is our bond not what allows you to wield it?

She doesn't answer. She can't. Nothing she says can change what happened to her. That another supernatural tried to use her, that their will was imposed on her again. That her blood has been the catalyst for all of it. And everyone wants to drain her dry.

Fuck Ostin. And fuck every power-hungry asshole out there.

Zuri stifles a groan and twists and turns. Her legs are useless - heavy, far from the ground and too close to her body for them to put any distance between them. But she has to do something, anything.

Li-Sar tilts her head, watches her fondly and chuckles - now she can both hear it and feel it. Hates that the press of her body - how it reverberates through her, shakes against her - doesn't bother her the way it should. She leans in close, strands of her tickling her cheek as she murmurs, “your anger is endearing, although I don't understand it.”

Her lips brush against her ear and Zuri stills.

“You have seen my power firsthand, as well as how those around you yearn for it. But still, you fight it. As though it isn't a blessing to be my other-heart.”

“I,” she can't bring herself to turn her head away. “I don't know what that's supposed to mean.”

“Hmm. You will, in time,” she hums before pulling away slightly. Just enough for both of them to have a clear view of the other's face. Enough for Zuri to see nothing but her. Knuckles trail along the curve of her cheek and jaw, a pleasant tingle against her skin.

“The people of this world are meaningless to me. Specks of stardust in a vast galaxy. They have nothing to offer me. But you? You have,” she inhales, deeply, breathing her in while her eyes trace her features as though she could get drunk on her and her alone. “You have more than you could ever imagine.”

A shudder runs down Zuri’s spine. A part of her clings onto the anger she has, tries to will it to fuel her actions, but the heat building up inside her isn't from that alone. Some of it comes from having this woman in front of her. Bold, flirty, certain about herself, what she wants, who she wants. Their hearts are pounding against each other through their clothes, through their chests why does she have to be so-

Li-Sar's eyes travel lower, down her neck and collarbone to where their bodies meet. Zuri follows her gaze without thought. A charge of electricity dances back and forth between them, in and around one person and to the next. She isn't sure what it's transferring, but she can hear every breath they take, feel the clouds gathering above them, the ache in her body fading and the endearment Li-Sar felt towards her. The anger she felt when the Trapper tried to attack her. Amusement, disdain, excitement, confusion.

Lust.

“This is but a glimpse of your potential. Of what I can do with and for you. What I can do to you, if you wish it,” she purrs and puts a finger under her chin. The zap that follows feels like a dangerous mix of pleasure and pain, making Zuri shiver and look back up at her. An instruction and a warning.

“Don't you want to discover all you are?”

“I am more than my blood.”

There's conviction in her voice, stained with doubt and desperation. As if it isn't just the world she's trying to convince.

But she is more than that. She has to be. She is more than parts of Rook, more than parts of Rebecca, more than what Murphy did to her.

“But of course.”

“I'm mo-” she blinks, “...I'm sorry, what?”

Another chuckle. She holds her chin between her thumb and index finger. And there's that endearment again.

“Surely you don't think that I chose you over that witch because of your blood?” Li-Sar glances off to the side, her mouth curling in disdain as she sighs. “It is powerful, no doubt. An untapped part of your essence that freed me. But there have been many blood sacrifices - that alone is not enough for someone to share in my power.”

Blood sacrifices? Plural? A strange, specific set of words. Ostin did seem almost reverent when he first saw Li-Sar, seemed to loathe the idea of her being imprisoned. They're practically a deity, so having people worship her isn't far fetched. A cult following wouldn't be either. But Zuri only heard about here recently. Outside of how she handled her arrival and Ostin’s temper tantrum, she hasn't exactly done anything that would be of interest to…a God?

She purses her lips. Li-Sar watches her with half-lidded eyes, amused, as though she can hear the dogs turning in her brain. Her focus shifts down to her lips. Zuri pretends not to see it.

“I wonder what I've done that makes me- makes this different, then.”

“It's not just what you've done but what you would do, if you had the chance. I can see it in your eyes, something ferocious but restrained like-” she rolls her lips together and shakes her head, muttering something in Echolian.

“This English language is inept at describing this. But in all my years, I rarely happened upon someone who has this. But here you are. You, and a woman who calls herself the leader of Rogue Supernaturals.”

Oh shit. Her stomach drops.

“She's spoken to you already? How did she contact you? Did she-”

“Oh hush, there is nothing of importance there,” amusement seeps into her voice as she scoffs. “Nothing to panic over nor be jealous of. She lacks your restraint. It makes her nowhere near as tempting. It is adorable watching your control slip, mortal.”

Dammit. What is with her? Since when can someone she's just met make her fumble like this. Where the hell is her subtlety?

She can't even blame the fight. Li-Sar seems to have healed her wounds again.

God, get it together.

“Your floundering is endearing as well. Almost every part of you is. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I'm not-”

“She wanted to be what you are,” she interrupts and Zuri strains to hold her tongue. “My she’loe-chae'lis, my other-heart, my chosen. And perhaps she would be, if I had not met you first.”

Zuri keeps her eyes trained on her, white-blue against dark brown. Something creeps into her, something like disappointment and the anxiety of something being in jeopardy. Nothing important. Focus. Their blood had mixed when she gave her these powers. Can they be taken away? Could whatever it is that tether them to each other be severed? Would she give it to the Rogue's leader if it could be?

Li-Sar's eyes don't give away a thing. She just watches with what seems like endless patience, like watching the cogs turn is entertaining. Zuri doesn't think she can get any answers that she isn't already willing to share - nothing that really means something to her. Especially now, when she's holding onto anger so tightly that it chaffs and she's still caught in the tension simmering between them.

“You think too much,” she says, cooing again before leaning in close enough for their foreheads to touch. “Don't you see, meor'dal? The humans want to control me and the supernaturals of this world want to be my chosen. But all I want is you.”

Her breath hitches. The anger slips. All that's left is the heat thruming through her and pooling in her abdomen, the nerves fluttering in her stomach, her breath fanning her face, how thin their clothes feel, how they shouldn't be there-

God, it's all she's wanted for as long as she can remember. For someone to want her. To choose her over everything. Over work, over rationale or fear, over something or someone more convenient. To see something in her that's worth staying for, even if they can barely reach it. She almost can, just a few inches shy of reaching in and grazing that all too sensitive spot nestled inside her.

“All I want,” her voice is close to a whisper as she cups her face, “is you, and the world we can shape together.”

But at what cost?

Just…keep it together.

A shaky exhale is all that comes out for a while. A pause. Then eyebrows furrow as she frowns like she might just sob. Zuri shakes her head a bit before resting the back of her head against the tree - she didn't even realise it had moved - and peers up at the sky. The moon peeks out from behind dark red clouds.

She can't just take her at her word. Who knows if this is what she wants and not what she knows makes her weak, feeds some twisted part of her that wants someone to be willing to burn down the world for her.

“I,” the words die in her throat when she meets her gaze again, sees the depthless, unbridled need inside of them… she almost doesn't want to say it but…

She slams her eyes shut and shakes her head again. “No, no, I- I don't want the world.”

“Then what?” Frustration makes the charge between them tremble. Fingers grasp the side of her face in an attempt to make her look at her, as if she'll claw the answer out of her if that's what it takes to have her at her side. Zuri’s eyes open and Li-Sar's face twists. Something close to desperation meets that frustration.

“What do you desire? What is it you crave that you believe I cannot give to you?” A muscle in her jaw twitches as her lips set into a hard line, nose wrinkled and eyes glowing a bright white. “I am already yours as much as you are mine, so tell me!”

A rumble of thunder accompanies the growl in her voice and goosebumps rise on Zuri’s skin, the fear raking down her spine freezing her in her spot.

That's the problem, isn't it? Li-Sar would do whatever it would take to fulfill her, to gain her favour, to crack her open and free the ugliest parts of her from their restraints. She'd protect her from any and every threat, destroy them in a blink of an eye. If she joins her. If she's willing to bury those she loves alongside the power-hungry and greedy. They're nothing To her, after all. Insignificant little things with nothing to offer her. If Li-Sar is hers as Zuri is hers, what good would anyone else be? What would they be but a threat to their bond?

She doesn't want that. She never will. She'd rather go unwanted for the rest of her life than lose her friends, her family, the community she has here in Wayhaven despite everything. There's no answer she can give that is worth never laughing with Tina and Verda again. Or experiencing the world through fresh eyes with Farah. Watching the sunrise in comfortable silence with Morgan. Exchanging books and anecdotes with Nate.

Being the reason Adam lowers his guard and smiles enough for the dimples to show on his face.

Every moment with them plays in her mind like a movie on fast forward. Slows to the day she left a scar on Adam's arm, one that won't heal. It's permanent. Her throat burns. She can't lose them. She won't. Not while she's alive and breathing. She won't be the reason he's hurt again and no one will carry any scars because of her.

Zuri stares back at Li-Sar. Another rumble, another flash of electricity, a crack of lightning, tension tension tension-

She is unwavering, firm. She won't get the answer she wants. At that, the amalgamation of frustration and anger softens into confusion, then fascination, then…she looks impressed? Begrudgingly, but impressed nonetheless.

“Fine,” she scoffs and glances away, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Keep your secrets while you can. You will speak them freely once you join me.”

She almost slumps in relief, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. This is, what? Their second meeting? Their first full on conversation? And she can toy with her as though she's known her her whole life, push every button, say all the right things. It will never not be weird to be on the receiving end of that.

The air sighs, feeling lighter by the second. But only one type of tension evaporated. The other still lingers, balances on a tightrope.

Li-Sar's gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips, her hand gently cradling her face rather than grasping it tightly. She releases her wrists and Zuri's arms fall to her bare shoulders. Blue currents run down her arms, whirl around Li-Sar's shoulders down to her fingertips. For the first time, she shudders, eyes widening as she continues to watch her with a new intensity.

“...would you grant me this moment?”

Her hushed words hang in the air between them. Zuri blinks up at her. This can't be what she thinks it is. What she hates that she hopes it is.

“...what?”

A thumb caresses her bottom lip, the stinging fading as she does. There's fluttering in her stomach again, warmth in her cheeks, anticipation in her veins.

“I'd like to taste you, if you'd permit me,” a small gasp, and Li-Sar mirrors her, parts her own lips, seconds that feel like minutes pass before she continues. “I will savour however much of you I can have.”

The heat returns with a vengeance at the yearning in her eyes. Oh God. Zuri’s heart might just beat out of her chest. The last kiss she had was both bittersweet and magical and everyday after that has been a test in restraint.

Being alone with Adam was like drowning; his presence is all-encompassing, beautiful, painful, everything it wasn't supposed to be. It was supposed to be easy and fun, her wriggling her way past his walls and getting to see more of him than what the world sees. But he burrowed his way under her skin too and now? Now she's lost her balance, fallen from the edge and things are more complicated than they've ever been. Now she itches to be in his arms again, to run her fingers through the short strands of his hair, to feel his hand on her face and his lips on hers. She finds herself on the verge of begging and pleading for him to share that moment with her.

Just one more kiss, even if he won't have her. Even if they keep dancing around what they have. Even if it's better that way.

And here she is, with an all powerful being who is bold and beautiful and dangerous and wants her. Who isn't afraid of what it could mean or how it could end. She wants her. She could kill her for daring to deny her. But instead she asks for a kiss. Just one kiss, even if she can't have her the way she wants to.

Zuri wraps an arm around her neck and draws her in before she can think. She doesn't want to think - to resist - anymore. She wants it messy and desperate and electric.

Li-Sar chuckles and puts her free hand against the tree, crowding her but preventing her from pulling her any closer. “You will have to use your words. That shouldn't be difficult with that silver tongue of yours.”

She can't say it out loud, it's messed up and embarrassing and-

“May I taste you?”

Her eyebrows furrow, she's holding her breath, her head moves up and down before she can think-

Yesyesyesyes-

“...yeah,” it's shaky when it comes out, mixed with a heavy breath. “Yes…please.”

Li-Sar's eyes flash again, the hand on her cheek sits more securely while the other slowly moves to her waist. She stares at her with wonder and… concern. Their foreheads touch and one of Zuri’s hands leaves her shoulder to brush her hair out of her face. She needs to look at her.

“You have been hurt, haven't you, meor'dal?” She leans in closer, dips her head until the tips of their noses brush, her voice soft but firm. “I promise you this. That ache in your heart? That is something you will never have to bear again. Not when you are with me.”

Zuri is warm all over from the heat inside and against her body. Her hair is soft between her fingers, her scent is dizzying, her breath fans against her face and she is so beautiful. She's beautiful, she's dangerous, she wants her, she isn't him. The light, barely there touch of her lips makes sparks course through her, through her fingers, slice through her thoughts until all that's left are fragments yes, please, I want, need this, kiss me, kiss me, please-

“Zuri?”

Eyes snap open. A hand covers her mouth. Her own shift to her shoulders, balled into fists, pushing her away. The bark pokes at her back and the back of her head.

She doesn't need to glance to the side to see who's there. She'd know that voice anywhere. She looks anyway.

Adam.

Shit.

The rest of Unit Bravo come up from behind him, standing at a distance. Stiff like they all want to run towards her and get Li-Sar as far away from her as possible.

Li-Sar is doing the same.

Her hair stands on end as she stares at them, the static so overwhelming it crackles and pops and stings. Thunder starts rumbling, low and threatening, the backdrop to this standoff. She doesn't look at Zuri when she speaks, her voice echoing through the forest as she speaks. “Which one of them is it?”

Fear floods in and flushes every feeling away. Shit. She could kill them right where they stand. She pushes the hand on her mouth away, gets a tight hold of her wrist.

“Li-Sar, no. Stop.”

“Tell me.”

Farah watches intently. Morgan growls. Nate puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder. He still shifts closer.

“No,” the panic is clear in the rasp of her voice. “Leave them alone.”

“Who-”

“Stop!”

Her voice booms. There's a crack of thunder, a flash of lightning. The vampires cover their ears. Zuri’s hand zips forward, clutches Li-Sar's jaw, forcing her head to turn towards her. Away from them. Something surges through her, mixing with the fear, amplifying the anger and the ugly little thing inside her that gnaws at its cage. She won't watch them be hurt again. Not by either of them. Her fingers dig into her face again, another hiss as her nails pierce her skin. Her mind races with thoughts and images of every way she could stop Li-Sar, each one gorier than the next.

It would be the last thing she lets either of them do.

“You stay away from him,” her voice is as cutting and as loud as the thunder, “from all of them. If you even look in their direction again, you'll lose any chance you had of me being your she’loe-chae'lis.”

She says the word like her Echolian has been fully honed.

Li-Sar stares at her, her face still scrunched in anger, her eyes bright but inspecting. Curious. Piercing like she might call her bluff that there's any chance at all. They dim, and familiar fascination slips through. That, and an impressed smirk.

“As you wish,” she steps away a few seconds after Zuri lets go of her jaw, keeping her eyes on her as she backs away.

She stops at the trees opposite her, places a hand on one, making sure to turn her body away from Unit Bravo when she does.

“Until we next meet, Zuri,” her name echoes before she vanishes in a flash of lightning with a loud crack.

The tree has been split in too, leaves burnt to ash, branches black and smoking.

A warning of what she can do. What she could've done.

Zuri’s feet touch the ground for the first time in ages and her legs buckle.

“Zuri, are you harmed? Are you-”

“Give her a moment, Adam.”

Nate puts a hand on his shoulder again. The four of them get as close as they can while staying out of reach. She looks back at them, leaning back against the tree, panting with a wry smile. They're okay. They're all okay. “A moment would be appreciated.”

“Woah. Your eyes,” Farah stares at her in awe. “Your hair, your voice! Holy shit. Those powers are getting stronger by the day.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“You say that like it's a good thing.”

“It's not a good thing or a bad thing,” she shrugs, “just…a thing. I think.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“When were you gonna tell us that stuff would make your voice that loud?” Morgan joins in, crossing her arms and inspecting her with a concerned frown.

Zuri let's out a short, breathless laugh. “Oh trust me, I would've told you the moment I found out.”

“We do trust you.”

She shakes her head and gives them a weak smile. They're only talking because they know the silence would be worse for her. That noise, no matter how soft, helps her breathe easier.

Inhale. Exhale.

She vaguely feels her earrings lower to their usual position, dangling from her ears. Her clothes loosening around her, back to hugging her figure instead of squeezing it. The magic inside her feels less like a waterfall and more like a small stream, contained and not sparking outward.

It's Nate who speaks next. “How are you feeling, Zee?”

Soothed. Embarrassed. Exhausted. Relieved. Too many things to describe in depth. But she knows one thing.

“You're all okay. You're alright, so I'm good. Tired, but good.”

She straightens up and takes a step towards them. Or really, stumbles towards them. Adam catches her by the elbow and puts a hand on her back. She looks up at him with furrowed brows before looking down at his arm, shying away from his touch. The scar is still there. She hurt him one way and almost hurt him in another.

She almost kissed her.

“Wait, Adam I…”

“It is as you said. We are all alright,” she looks up again and finds him smiling softly. “I am all right.”

Guilt coils inside her chest.

“Let us go home,” he adds softly.

Zuri stares at the split tree, rolling her lips together at the sight. At the images that come with it. The part of her that already misses her and part that wants her gone in a way that's more permanent than a magically powered cell. She nods, leans into him despite how wrong she feels for doing it, and he leads her away.

She needs to just… get away from here.

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