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tadpolesonalgae · 4 days

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 17

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: does anyone mind the slightly longer chapters? I feel like I keep accidentally adding scenes in and I’m not sure if it’s too much? Anyway, regardless of length, I hope you enjoy! 🧡💛

word count: 8,024

-Part 16-

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“Was that necessary, Mor?”

Neatly groomed brows narrow over hard amber eyes, stood at the edge of the room, still cast in shadow before walking to be stood closer to the bed that’s been pushed so it’s beside the open window.

“Stay out of it, Az,” Mor murmurs, arms folded over her chest, eyes cast downwards. “You should be focusing on getting better.”

Azriel is quiet for a bit, his gaze weighing on her but she makes no move to look at him, a hint of anguish in her normally bright expression. He sighs, shifting against the pillows as he glances out the window, inclining his head a little as a light breeze washes over him, sending silky strands of hair fluttering up from his brow.

“You know she didn’t do it to hurt you,” he says, watching as the clouds shift in composition in the sky, small dots flying in the distance as they arc and dip with the winds. Hazel eyes flick back across the room, but Mor’s head is still lowered, her expression resentful. “You know you were being cruel.”

“And you’re in a position to criticise me?” Mor replies quietly, hard amber piercing into him. “You’re the reason this became such a mess. You should have said something. There’s no way you couldn’t have noticed.”

“I made a mistake,” he concedes reluctantly, holding her gaze.

“You made more than a mistake, Az. Now we’re all hurting because you—”

“Mor,” Azriel interrupts. She stiffens but doesn’t yield, that look of reproach returning to her expression. “You can’t lash out at us whenever you hurt,” he says thickly, still watching her. Silence stretches between them, centuries worth of history pulled taut in the quiet.

“What does Rhys think?” Mor diverts, successfully switching subjects. Azriel sighs, leaning back into the pillow, “about which part?” Mor’s brows narrow a little, “all of it, I suppose.” Azriel’s jaw works, glancing briefly out the window again to peer up into the sky, the winds calling to him and his wings move subtly at his back, repositioning themselves against the large stack of cushions placed to prop him up.

“He’s furious that it got this far,” he replies, features carefully neutral as he answers the question. Amber eyes observe, offered insight through those years of friendship that others might struggle to pick out—the guilt he feels for failing. Not just her, or Mor, but Rhys and Feyre. For inadvertently allowing a situation to unfold where his brother would be forced to remember those months…years of grief after his family was slaughtered. After his sister was murdered. The whole situation is dredging up unwelcome memories, for all of them. They can’t let another one be lost.

“He wants to know how Eris even got to her in the first place,” Azriel admits, glancing warily at Mor to gauge her reaction. “You don’t know?” She asks, pushing past the tightness in her throat at the mere mention. But the Shadowsinger shakes his head. “There wasn’t really time to ask,” he supplies quietly. She wasn’t really even in the right mindset to be asked.

“What about Cassian?” Mor queries, but Azriel shakes his head.

“You know I won’t tell you.” Because to know Cassian’s thoughts on the matter would likely be to know Nesta’s, and that isn’t the kind of emotional intimacy any of them would be comfortable with. It’s strange how emotions intermingle like that, how swiftly things can complicate themselves when new figures are added to the equation.

A beat passes, then Mor’s shifting on her feet. “You know, there was a time when we shared everything between us. Wasn’t that easier?” She asks neutrally.

“Mor,” Azriel warns lowly, causing Mor’s upper lit to curl slightly.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Az,” she mutters, resting her full attention on the injured male. “Don’t act like you’re completely blameless.”

“Assigning blame won’t fix anything,” he replies shortly, hazel eyes losing a little of their softness. “I’m sure that narrative suits you well,” Mor counters sharply. “I think you’re glad that I said those things to her so that you have a chance to redeem yourself by condemning me. You’re the one who started this whole mess, so—”

“Mor.”

“Shut up, Az,” Mor hisses, warmth vanishing from her face, eyes hardening as shields rise. “Don’t you dare try and twist what happened. You made mistake after mistake because you were too busy chasing Elain, and too busy ignoring what you didn’t want to acknowledge by hiding behind your work instead. At least I had a damn reason. What was yours?”

Azriel gives nothing away, his expression cold and blank.

“I tried to help her, I reached out my hand and offered her a chance. And she repaid that by going to Eris,” Mor hisses, unable to help the stark pain that bleeds into her fury. “She could have come to any of us. It’s more than we ever had, and yet she ignored it. Then tries to pretend it away? I’m not immune to that. If she can’t even be bothered to care about my pain why should I give a damn about hers?” Mor breathes, eyes feeling hot as the words gush out. “It is nothing compared to what we endured.”

————

You manage a small smile as Madja enters your room, Elain closing the door behind her as she takes a seat at your bedside.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Madja asks as she settles in the chair provided for these visits, a kind look on her face that you know you should be grateful for, but it’s difficult to summon anything when you know she can’t do anything. All this is, is documentation. An observation to see what happens to you. Because it’s undeniable something is happening.

You swallow thickly, but nod your head. “Good, for the most part,” you answer, truthfully. “I’m still feeling generally fatigued, but I wouldn’t say it’s particularly interfering with my day? I’ve had some pains in my stomach and back though, but I think they’re just…you know…” Madja raises her brows in question, silently asking you to continue. Heat rises beneath your skin and you avert your gaze, hands wringing together beneath the duvet.

“Would it be more helpful if it were just the two of you?” Elain suggests carefully, and teeth push into your lower lip. Then you give a small dip of your head, too embarrassed to look her in the eye. But she doesn’t seem to mind, telling you’ll she be a few rooms over, and will return once the examination is done. Madja looks patiently at you, a kind expression on her features that soothes you slightly. She’s a healer, surely she’ll have seen and heard worse…

You clear your throat, peering into your lap to avoid looking at her. “I think they might just be…” you trail off, glancing at her then gesturing vaguely to your stomach, hand hovering over your abdomen. There’s nothing impatient in her smile as she speaks, “your cycle?” You snap your eyes away, a flush of mortification rising to your skin, shoulders tightening as you stare into your lap but force yourself to nod.

“It’s perfectly fine to speak about that with me,” Madja says gently, “it’s a normal occurrence with females, there’s no need to be embarrassed about your own body. There’s nothing wrong with it.” You nod again, just to try and appease her, but in truth you’re desperate to escape the subject. “I’m sorry, I just— I find it hard to believe you aren’t…uncomfortable, discussing such topics.”

“Well, I’ve been a healer for most of my centuries in this realm,” she says calmly, and you can imagine that kind expression on her features, peaceful and infinitely patient. “I’ve worked during both wars, not to mention helping with your sister’s pregnancy. There’s very little that could ever cause me discomfort in regards to how the body works, so you don’t have to concern yourself.”

You shift again in the bed, but manage to nod your head. Madja seems to be satisfied with the response, smile broadening, and a slight bit of tension is relieved from your shoulders, breath easing into your lungs. “So you’ve been experiencing some abdominal and back pain?” She questions, and you nod again, feeling a little useless. “Can you describe it to me?” She asks, and you swallow thickly. “I…it’s like a dull ache in my back, near the base of my spine but a bit to the right. Then it’s quite sharp in my…abdomen. It doesn’t happen often, but I thought I should mention it…”

“I don’t think you should be experiencing any pain at all,” Madja replies. “And may I ask when you’re next due for your cycle?” You look away briefly before again meeting her gaze—nothing to be embarrassed about, she’d assured. “In about three months,” you answer quietly.

Madja nods in approval, and you begin to relax back into the pillows. “And have you noticed any bleeding at all?” She asks gently, and you freeze in the bed.

“No,” you answer hurriedly, without thinking, “no. Not from— No.”

“Alright,” she smiles calmingly, “anywhere else? You have some scabs on your hands, isn’t that right?” Your throat rolls but you nod, releasing your tight grip on your nightgown, bringing yourself to raise them from beneath the duvet so she can examine them. “And these bumps,” she inquires, “can you tell me how long those have been there for?” You blink, trying to remember—they’ve been there for months it feels like, but it can’t have been that long, can it? How long has it been since you first told Azriel?

“I think…” you hesitate, unsure of yourself, “maybe a month? Two? They don’t hurt, but they do sometimes…bleed.”

“Okay, would you mind if I had a look at them?” She requests, and you silently offer her your hands for her to take. That tingling warmth feathers beneath your skin, as if the flesh has fallen asleep, and you watch curiously as she probes along your knuckles, examining your palms, grazing your wrists. “And may I look at the area you experienced the pain in?” She asks, and you stiffen but nod. It’ll be the same thing as last time, you hope, and that wasn’t too bad since she had managed to work through the fabric of your night gown. The duvet is rolled back and you sit straighter in the cushions so she’ll have better access.

“Can you point out where exactly you were feeling the pain?” She requests, and you gesture to a horizontal strip of skin below your middle. “It was the sharpest here,” you answer, “but I sometimes get a small ache further to the left or right.” Madja doesn’t reply, her expression showing concentration as she moves her hands across your stomach, gently pushing at the parts you’d mentioned as that warmth settles pleasantly into you. You can’t help as your attention drifts to your own hands, how flaky and lumpy they are in comparison to her tender set. It’s so dry, small scabs where blood had leaked from…you wish at least the bleeding didn’t happen. So many pairs of gloves you have to wash repeatedly to make sure there aren’t any stains.

It’s become such a normal part of your life it had slipped your mind that pain shouldn’t be a normal part of it, nor the bleeding.

The bleeding…

A cold feeling washes over you, like you’ve had ice tipped down your spine as you remember the scare you’d experienced in the Autumn Court.

If Madja notices how you’ve frozen, she doesn’t mention it, but a slow feeling of slippery dread unspools in your stomach as you recall the blood you’d noticed when visiting the washroom one morning. You’d thought it was your cycle—the slight pains had added up and the night sweats had made sense—but then nothing had happened and you’d forgotten about that blood.

Nausea churns in your stomach, a district feeling over lightheadedness overcoming you and you force the calm breaths into your lungs…deep, and steady. You choke on saliva and your palm flies over your mouth as you twist your head to the side, coughing.

Madja glances up at you, brows slightly pulled together from concentration. “Have some water—are you remembering to keep yourself hydrated throughout the day?” She asks, handing you the glass that rests by your bedside table. “For the most part,” you answer after taking a few sips. Madja pauses briefly, a look of consideration passing behind her eyes before speaking, “would you mind if I checked your lungs? It’s likely nothing, but might as well be sure since I’m here, don’t you agree?”

You blink at her, looking slightly perplexed but you suppose there’s no harm in it, so you nod your confirmation, handing her back the glass before settling into the cushion. That familiar warmth tingles in your skin as she tentatively lays her fingers just below your collar bones before pressing down a little firmer and making her way from one side to the other. Her features remain set in an expression of concentration and she returns to the tops of your sternum before going a little lower. You tense, but understand she’s performing a medical examination.

“Can you sit upright a little more? I’d like to search a little lower, just by your ribs,” she adds, seeing your startled expression. You nod, understanding, sitting more upright independent of the cushions. “Now if you can raise your arm?” She requests gently and again you follow, raising your left arm so she has access to the side of your ribs. The tingling sensation returns and you think you can feel as it searches through your body, though it doesn’t feel invasive like you had expected.

Madja’s fingers pause, before she’s pressing noticeably firmer and you have to steady yourself so she does upset your balance. The sensation becomes more acute, able to feel as the tingling feeling concentrates near the middle left of your lower ribcage. When she retracts her hands she looks a little confused.

“Is everything okay?” You ask nervously, uneasy by her expression.

“There’s what feels like a small lump connected to the tissue of your left lung,” Madja explains calmly, and you nod your head. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to try and purge it. I haven’t seen it in any other patients, and there’s no reason for it to be there—it isn’t a natural part of your body. Would that be okay?”

You nod your head—if she’s found something wrong with you, that sounds promising…? And if she thinks she can…purge it, that seems even better.

“Alright, if you lean back into the bed to keep your upper body relaxed that would be perfect,” she guides and you settle down. “Okay, I’m going to apply my magic to the growth. You might feel a sudden heat or a ticklish sensation but if you can avoid coughing that would be helpful,” she explains, and tension rises in your chest as she again puts her hands against the side of your ribcage.

Sure enough, a sharp heat fills a spot on your lung, and you press your lips together to prevent from coughing or inhaling suddenly despite the abrupt tickle that’s manifested in your throat, an intense itchiness in your lungs…an itchiness growing in the tips of your fingers…growing hotter…and hotter…beginning to burn, and…

Madja pulls away, a gentle smile on her face, “all done. You did well not to start coughing in the middle there, it helped make the process much easier for me.”

“So, it’s gone?” You ask perplexedly, hand gingerly rising to press into your ribs, testing as you inhale. Sure enough, the tickling feeling has gone, and so has the tightness in your throat, suddenly feeling much clearer. Like when you’d had a cold as a human, feeling the distinct relief once you were able to breathe freely again, having to become reliant on inhaling via your mouth rather than nose. One never appreciates how seamlessly their body works until it’s compromised.

Madja smiles, “it’s gone.”

A hesitant smile makes its way across your mouth, peering down to where you hand is settled.

Maybe it isn’t as bad as you’d been telling yourself.

————

Golden eyes gleam from within the home, the scent of rosemary so familiar emotion swells in your chest.

“Hey, Bas.”

He pauses briefly, and you hesitate, waiting to see what he’ll do. Then he’s shifting in the doorway, opening it wider cautiously as he take you in, taking up most of the entryway. “You’re back…” he greets, but the note of caution in his voice has you hesitating again. But you push a small smile to your mouth, remembering yourself. “I’m back,” you agree, nodding your head slightly, “how… How have you been? Everything okay?”

Bas is silent, simply watching you with an indistinguishable look and you resist the urge to move beneath his attention, instead waiting it out, wondering what he’s thinking.

“Where were you?” He asks, catching you a little off-guard with the question. You hadn’t really considered he might question where you went. “I was… I visited another Court. Temporarily. Just to see more of the world, I guess…” You peer up at him—he isn’t moving from the doorway, remaining blocking it instead of inviting you in like you’d anticipated. Things feel strange, to how you remember them. “Is everything…okay?” You hedge.

“Is everything okay?” He repeats softly, as if to himself. His golden eyes regain awareness, pupils tightening as they look at you. “Why don’t you tell me?”

It’s enough to have you faltering, temporary confidence stumbling as you peer up at him questioningly. “I…what do you mean?” You ask, unsure what he’s asking after.

“I mean, why did you disappear like that, huh? You just— went. Without telling me where, without telling anyone where, apparently. Do you know how dangerous Prythian can be? Especially for someone like you, and you just decided to leave? What were you thinking?” Bas asks, his patience steadily slipping as he speaks, thoughts pouring from his lips. “Someone like me?” You repeat faintly, pinning him with a look, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re smart. Not strong,” he answers succinctly, but bluntly, “you should know what sort of creatures are out there.”

“That didn’t seem to bother you the night I left,” you counter, a note of disbelief in your voice.

“Because you’re smart,” he repeats as if it’s obvious. “You’re smart, so I assumed you’d make a smart choice. Not just go out into Prythian on a whim. You don’t even know how to fight. Do you understand what could have happened to you?”

“Bas, I’m fine,” you reassure, trying to understand his temper is coming from a place of concern. “I…I went to meet someone. I didn’t just go out into the wilderness, you don’t need to worry,” you explain, knowing it’s best to keep the details vague.

“You know your family came to visit, right?” He asks, again catching you off guard as you stare at him. “No,” you answer, quietly, “I didn’t. Who—… What happened…?” Bas shifts in the doorway, settling to lean against the threshold of the entrance, and a small grain of relief passes through you at the distinctly familiar gesture. “Azriel visited first, and I told him he wouldn’t get anything out of me because I had decided to trust that you knew what you were doing. And you know what he told me?” Bas asks harshly, shaking his head and not waiting for reply. “He told me I was interfering with Court affairs, that withholding information might result in the High Lord personally questioning me. And I still didn’t tell him anything.”

“I…I’m sorry, Bas,” you manage, guilt at last beginning to rise in your chest, head lowering slightly. “I’m…thank you. For trusting me.”

“I’m not done,” Bas says quietly, but firmly, causing you to glance up at him questioningly. “He came back, that time with Mor.” There’s no way for you to conceal the pain and conflict that passes through your expression. Even if you could, even if you knew how to hide your emotions like that, you have the distinct impression he knows you well enough he’d be able to see through it, and the thought is surprisingly uncomfortable for you. Knowing someone so well they could see through your lies…that kind of vulnerability…

“She was the one who convinced me to admit I had no idea where you’d gone. She was clearly worried, and I had to look at her and tell her how you hadn’t trusted me enough to say where you’d be going, but that I had decided to trust you enough that I’d been fine not knowing.” His voice has lowered, becoming rougher, and your shoulder slope with shame. “Can you understand that? To realise you’ve been deceived by someone you cared for like that? To admit that to people who had been smart enough to know better?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, raising your eyes to meet his, gloved hands wringing together. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like I didn’t trust you. I do.”

“Then where were you?”

You raise your head to look at him, then. Heart sinking because—you can’t tell him. You’re in enough trouble as it is, with Rhys, with Mor, with Azriel. Probably with your sisters too, they just haven’t shown it yet. You can’t cause more problems. More problems for them is more consequences for you, and you have a long list of things to make up for. Dauntingly long. Almost unbearably… “Bas…I…”

“Can’t tell me?” He finishes, his tone telling you it’s exactly what he anticipated.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you say softly, holding his gaze imploringly. “You know I trust you. That I’ve told you things I could never—… That I could never tell anyone else…”

“Then why can’t you tell me, huh?” He asks, a touch more gentle, sounding as helpless as you feel.

“Just…I need you to…”

“Trust you?” He scoffs, shoulders jerking in an unnaturally sharp movement.

“You’d made it sound like they didn’t care about you,” he says quietly, and you look at him wearily. “I thought you were on your own, you know.” Like me, is what he leaves out, but you can hear it clear enough. “I have my ma, and you have your sister, but beyond that I thought you had no one but me.” And I had no one but you—again, you can hear those words he’s not saying. “That we were going to be there for each other because we understood what it was like. But they care for you.” A strange sense of shame settles heavily on your shoulders, and your head lowers, but you don’t look away.

“It was obvious,” he murmurs, his brows curving almost imperceptibly, a kernel of pain passing behind sharp golden eyes. He sighs, shaking his head, pushing up from the doorframe and you watch silently as he begins to draw the conversation to a close. “I won’t begrudge you of that. I’m glad you have people. Family. But I…” You lied.

“I don’t—” You say abruptly, rushing into speech, hurting without thought, just needing to explain yourself, even if it opens up something you aren’t ready for. “They don’t,” you breathe. “I—… It might look like they do, you might know they do. Maybe they really, actually do.” You stare up at him, feeling that emptiness lethargically blink itself awake, mouth yawning open in preparation to begin swallowing you down again. Pulling you into that inescapable state of overwhelming darkness. “But I can’t believe it,” you whisper, feeling as your eyes fill with wetness, and something hot spills down your cheek, another following when you blink to clear it away. “I can’t…” you breathe, trailing off. “It doesn’t matter what happens, Bas. I just—…I can’t believe it.”

“And I should believe you?” He asks quietly.

You stare at him helplessly. There’s nothing else you can say. You’ve tried to convince him, you’ve been as honest as you can physically tolerate, and it…it just isn’t enough. You aren’t enough.

Your heart doesn’t plummet like you’ve learned to anticipate. Instead a vague feeling of disappointment calmly soothes your skin, glum pessimism setting in as the high emotions fade into watery greys. Desaturated, and bearable.

“I don’t know what else to say,” you tell him quietly.

“Just tell me the truth,” Bas asks, golden eyes showing his hurt. Another case of betrayal you’ve brought upon yourself.

Would it be unfair to ask his forgiveness?

“I’m sorry,” you give as your answer. There’s nothing else you can say.

Bas’ eyes dull slightly, and you understand how you’ve let him down.

His jaw works, looking away briefly before returning his attention to you. “I’ll see you later.”

————

The wind breezes through you as you walk along the cobbles, the sun long since dipped down beneath the horizon, leaving a chill in the air that manages to sink through the silky orange material of your scarf.

You can’t bring yourself to try and tackle the emotional conflict with Bas yet. You’re drained, and tired from the past months—maybe longer—and you don’t want to put yourself through more self-inflicted sadness. If you really need to release some bottled up emotion, you know you’ll have no choice in escaping it. If you have the option to keep yourself from hurt, you’ll take it. At least for the moment.

Bas had said he’d see you later—you have to trust him. As a friend, as someone who’s been there for you, and you for him—you have to believe you’ll be able to fix this. There’s good in the world, Feyre had told you, you just have to trust that you’ll find it. Even if it’s seemingly alluded you until now, in the moments you’ve needed it most.

A silhouette seems familiar in your peripherals, a distinctly fae sense recognising the shape, or…something, of the figure, and you glance over.

Cassian raises his hand in greeting, his expression clear and untroubled as he walks over to where you’ve paused, wings kept neatly tucked at his back to keep them from bumping into things. “You know, I’ve been told you’re supposed to be staying in bed,” he greets in his deep voice, tone similar to one someone would use when catching another doing something they aren’t supposed to, but considering joining in anyway. It’s very him, in a way.

“I…” you begin, about to mention Bas, but then decide otherwise. “I’m feeling okay today. I thought a walk might be nice. Fresh air’s supposed to be good for you, right?” You ask lightly, volume low. Cassian’s quiet for a beat, unnervingly sharp hazel eyes weighing into you calmly. Then he sighs, shrugging his shoulders a little before shifting on his feet, making to turn around, to lead you somewhere. “I suppose I can’t fault you for keeping things to yourself.”

You watch as he turns, obviously expecting you to go with him, but the moment caught you off guard. “…keeping things to myself…?” You hedge, managing to get your feet moving to walk a little behind him, not particularly wanting to go with him but knowing it would be unreasonable to turn away. Especially after all the trouble you’ve caused—like having such poor control of your—

You halt abruptly, staring up to the cliff-face that contains the House of Wind. Sure enough, even from so far below, you can spot the large break in the rock-face, able to pick out what had been your bedroom, and the sides of the rooms either side of it. You feel as the blood drains from your face, shock icing your body as you’re unable to look away—you caused that. “Something wrong?” Cassian asks, calling back to you a few steps away.

Words have left you, unable to figure out what to say, mind struggling to wrap around all of it. Another thing to make up for, and that one’s pretty big, too…your shoulders slope as you stare at the hole blown out of the rock. The damage you’ve probably caused the interior too… How much will it take to repair that? Isn’t the building itself old? Even to fae standards?

How can you ever make up for something like that?

Cassian walks back over to you when you don’t reply, pausing at your side, hands on his hips as he follows the direction of your gaze. “Pretty impressive,” he says conversationally, “you’ve got a way to go before you can manage an entire building, though.” Then he pats you lightly on the shoulder, wing curving round your body to get your legs moving as you’re pulled away, view with the House broken.

“I—…” you choke out, “did…did I do that?” You manage hoarsely, looking up at him as your feet start moving one in front of the other, subconsciously wary of bumping into his wing. “Sure did. Blew right through that noise cancelling ward Feyre put up,” Cassian answers, keeping his attention ahead as he leads you through the city streets, people automatically making way for the familiar face. “I told her she’d been slacking off in practising her magic,” he murmurs under his breath, but you aren’t paying much attention, too overwhelmed with debt to really engage.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, feet hesitating as they move over the cobbles before stopping firmly, shoulders bunched as you glance up at him. “I’m so— I didn’t mean to make such a mess— I just— I just didn’t— I didn’t know what to do. And I thought he was going to—”

“It’s okay,” Cassian says firmly, standing in front of you so there are less places to look away to. “It’s Rhys’ anyway. You don’t need to apologise to me.”

“But…it was given to you,” you hedge, staring up at him—and if it’s still Rhys’, that’s so much worse. So, so much damage.

“Would you feel better if someone was angry with you?” He asks seriously after a moment of pause. You freeze, startled by the question. “…what?”

“Would it make it easier?” He repeats, watching you solemnly, “if we acted how you’re waiting for us to?”

You stare at him, struggling to pull together a reply, startled from the strange clarity of his questions. Seconds pass and all you can do is look at him, too afraid to answer—not of him, but…something.

Cassian breaks the connection, glancing away, half turning his body to face the direction you’d been walking. “Maybe that question was too much,” he says, almost to himself. He sighs, eyes closing briefly, before he’s glancing at you, wing opening as if to guide you along again. “Come on,” he says, voice having lost that solemnity, back to the familiar timbre, “we’ll be late.”

“Late?” You manage as you somehow get your body to fall into step beside him. “What…where are we going?”

He looks at you strangely, as if the answer’s obvious. “Dinner, of course,” he replies, returning his attention to the streets ahead, sure enough taking the path that will lead directly back to the River House. “They’ll start without us if we aren’t there on time.”

“Dinner?” You ask, feeling lightheaded. Too many new components being dropped on you for you to entirely keep yourself together. You swallow thickly, fumbling for excuses because you can’t do a dinner as you are—not after yesterday. “I’m not feeling too great, actually,” you say hoarsely, “besides, if I eat this late I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it…” you trail off, realising he probably doesn’t want to hear about you throwing up meals every now and again.

“Madja’s told us you need to keep your strength up,” Cassian replies, and you’re unsure if he’s intentionally chosen a counter-argument you’d have trouble escaping or whether it was inadvertent. “Eat what you can—it’s important during recovery, even if it might feel insignificant, or pointless.” You glance at him again, that strange feeling creeping into your chest at his wording—is it some kind of intuition that’s leading him to say these things?

“…Will everyone be there?” You ask quietly, trying to calm yourself as the River House comes into view, not far away now. “Az will probably want to eat in his room,” Cassian answers neutrally after a temporary pause, “but everyone else will. You’ll be sitting besides Elain.” There was no reason to add that on.

You can’t manage it, but you can’t figure a way to escape. There’s no out you can find—saying you aren’t hungry, or you’re tired won’t get you out of it, he’s already said to just eat what you can meaning you have to have at least a bite or two. But the idea of sitting with all of them, when everything is still so unclear…You can’t.

The River House looms before you, and you can swear you feel a cold sweat appear on your back, hands turning unnaturally clammy, so accustomed to the skin being dry and flaky that to feel the dampness on your palms has slippery discomfort roiling in your stomach.

Cassian walks up the steps, hand settling on the door, and you watch in motion slower than usual as he begins to turn the handle.

A slight breeze blows, pulling strands of your hair forward, as if trying to push you into the House, and Cassian pauses, door opened only a few inches. Beats pass, but you keep utterly still, both wanting the moment to end but also desiring nothing more than to run from the oncoming meal.

Strangely observant hazel eyes flick over a broad shoulder, meeting your own set and you tense, hairs rising at the nape of your neck, getting that same feeling you’d had when speaking with Rhys, that he can somehow see through you too clearly, like you’re too easy to read. Fearing what he’ll be able to find before you’ve had the chance to discover it. Watching you fumble in the dark for something that was so easy to locate. Struggling with a problem embarrassingly simple to decipher.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he says, holding your gaze. Are you really that easy to see through? But then he continues, and the surrounding world warps a little.

“You have a right to be at that table as much as any of us,” he says, those keen hazel eyes remaining steady. “Keep that in mind, when you go in.”

Then the door’s opening wider, and the smell of a hot meal wafts out into the night. You trail behind him, latch clicking at your back, following as he makes his way to the dining room. He had believed the words he’d told you, that you were deserving of a seat at their table. You can’t really bring yourself to believe it, but his sincerity has shaken your ground a little.

His expression shifts when he rounds a corner, brows rising as his lips part in a broad smile, voices rising in greeting and you can see why Feyre treasures his company. He’s surprisingly gentle, oddly perceptive.

They probably all already knew that, though. It’s your fault for casting roles on them before really even getting to know them, assigning characters after only a handful of proper conversations. If only you’d made the effort to step out of your own little circle, maybe the circumference wouldn’t be as strangling as it’s become.

If you’d stepped out sooner, could you have been first choice?

But, glancing again at Cassian, his profile captured in a look between irritation and affection, turning the corner into the dining room and seeing the scrunch of Feyre’s brow as she replies to whatever he’d said…no. It wouldn’t have mattered.

But it’s not the end of the world that you weren’t made that way.

————

It’s good to see her smiling again, he thinks.

With the past months having been so draining, the symptoms of her restlessness only exacerbated in the last few days given the turmoil they’ve all been thrown into, it’s good to see the light in her eyes gleaming again. More than just good, but there isn’t quite a word right enough to express the soul-deep relief he feels at seeing her smile. A strange conviction that everything will be okay now that she’s on the way better.

Her ears twitch once before she’s shooting him a half-glare, having felt his gaze roaming over her. “Family dinner, Rhys,” she snaps under her breath, but he can see the heat in her eyes, the silent agreement that’s exchanged in the brief moments their gaze locks, and Rhys’ mouth curves suggestively, his brows rising in feigned ignorance. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, looking down at his mate with an intensity he knows she adores. And yet she lightly smacks his thigh anyway.

“I’m serious,” Feyre warns, that heat dissipating as Cassian picks a seat at the table, dragging the feet across the floorboards with a grating noise that’s thankfully drowned out by chatter while a smaller figure quietly follows after him, taking one of the two remaining open seats. Unlike Cassian, she lifts her chosen seat from the floor, trying to keep as silent as possible and blend into the background as she sits beside Elain. “Don’t scare her off,” Feyre murmurs under her breath. Rhys hums compliantly, eyes twinkling as he spends a few extra moments looking at his mate. Moments he thinks he might at long last be beginning to lean into.

“Where’s Mor?” Cassian interrupts, and Rhys reluctantly shifts his attention to his brother, who has taken the seat opposite Feyre. He sometimes wonders if Cassian choses moves like this intentionally, whether they’re conscious decisions or whether these actions result from a wish to have his family united. Cassian isn’t like himself or Az, wasn’t taught to conceal his emotions as they were—well, in his own case it was taught. For Az it was a matter of survival.

“Taking supper up to Az,” Nesta’s voice cuts through the previously enjoyable atmosphere, the noise similar to recognising the hiss of steel being drawn within a temple. A few centuries ago, his ears might have twitched at the distinctly unpleasant intrusion, but Cassian’s eyes have already left his own to seek out the icy silver of his mate’s, softened at their edges.

“More than just supper,” Amren comments, one space over to Rhys’ right, sat at a corner seat. “She took an entire bottle of wine with her.” Laughter rises, and Rhys allows his attention to briefly sweep over across the table where the two sisters are involved in conversation, as if there’s no one else to speak with. He supposes one of them might very well believe that, and with a fraction of a thought swiftly removes the precautionary enchantment of the silverware so they won’t vanish if she reaches for them.

At least she’s there, though he’s fairly confident Cassian has something to do with it. Rhys can picture how the light in Feyre’s eyes might flicker learning she had found a way to shut herself away in a house where avoiding others was almost impossible without intent. No amount of luck or coincidence would keep her entirely hidden. Especially over meals.

Violet eyes return to his left, feeling the familiar ease that settles through him at the reminder of Feyre’s presence. A deeply-treasured reprieve from the strain and stress that’s been thriving amongst them as of late.

————

“How was the check-up with Madja, by the way?” Elain asks, using one of the large wooden spoons to shift a few roast potatoes onto her plate.

You nod slightly, lips pressing together in a small smile that you hope is reassuring. “Good, for the most part,” you reply. “I think she still wants to observe what happens for now, but she did…do something, which might have helped?” It reminds you of the lightness in your lungs, the strange openness of your throat and you instinctively take in a deeper breath, basking in that odd clearness. Elain hums in question, silently offering you the spoon for potatoes, but you shake your head politely. “I’m not sure…I don’t think dinner is the best place to discuss those check-ups,” you say quietly, a half-smile on your mouth. Elain’s lips curve, eyes gleaming as she nods in agreement, “you’re probably right.” Then she glances across the table before returning her gaze to yours, a new, preempted question already rising to her mouth. “What are you going to eat?”

The smile on your lips becomes strained, gloved hands shifting in your lap as you keep the orange, silk scarf pulled over your arms to conceal the wretched skin. You wish you’d at least had the chance to change before coming here—your mind will mostly be preoccupied with making sure none of them are forced to see the state beneath the silk. “If I’m honest, I’m not really that hungry…” you hedge, but Elain gives you a look that tells you she won’t stand for it. Although it comes from a place of care and love, you can’t help feeling a little suffocated.

“Just have a couple of bites, okay?” Elain reasons gently, “Madja’s told us it’s good for you to eat, it’ll help you recover.”

“Apparently Madja’s been saying that a lot,” you mutter under your breath.

“Madja’s a highly respected healer,” Amren cuts in from across the table, her eyes sharp as they pierce into you. “If she’s said you should eat, you should eat.”

You aren’t sure if you imagine the way the noise level seems to drop at that, but the familiarly dull pain of humiliation flickers across your chest, ashamed to have sounded so ungrateful. Your head lowers a little, unable to think of a reply as your hands wring together beneath the table, tucked away in your lap.

“Unless you really feel sick,” Elain interjects a little defensively, her hand subconsciously placing itself on your upper arm in what you’re certain she intends to be a comforting gesture—in truth it causes your flesh to ache, but you keep your mouth shut. “I’m sure I can manage a bite or two,” you get out with a small smile and you hate that you know it won’t reach your eyes, so keep your head slightly ducked as you put a few potatoes on your plate. You can come down later, once everyone’s gone to bed if you’re still hungry.

A beat passes, and Elain shifts at your side, a fresh smile on her face, trying to brighten your mood—you dip a little lower at that, that she feels responsible, but if you don’t pull yourself together she’ll keep doing it. “How did you and Cassian bump into one another?” She asks, reaching for something else on the table that you don’t look at. Cassian doesn’t make to answer, so you have to, feeling the distinct weight of the table’s attention. “Just coincidence, I suppose,” you reply, managing a faint smile, keeping your eyes on your plate as you slice one of the roast potatoes in two, steam wafting up from the hot centre.

“Went out for a walk?” Elain asks. There’s an almost unnoticeable tone of relief in the question—you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t as close to her as you are. Is that how easily she can pick out your own thoughts? “Fresh air’s probably good for you, right?” She says smiling, causing your own lips to curve at their edges fondly. “I think so,” you murmur in reply.

“Have you had a chance to read any more books recently? I haven’t seen any in your room…I could get some if you want?” Feyre speaks from across the table, and you bite down on the way you want to shrink into yourself as the conversation is drawn over to you. “I haven’t, and it’s fine, thank you. Have you been painting recently?” You ask, swiftly shutting it down and shifting the conversation back to her, hoping you’ll be left out of it now.

Rhys’s attention flits over her a split second before something passes behind Feyre’s eyes, but she swallows and nods. “There hasn’t been as much time as I’d like, but I’m finding moments,” she answers, but goes no further. You’re glad she’s still getting time to herself in spite of being High Lady and more importantly, a mother. You can’t imagine how difficult it must be if it’s taking up that much of her time…and you probably hadn’t helped…she’s been visiting each day… You should have succeeded.

The passiveness of the thought catches you a little off guard. Since when had thoughts like that become so habitual? So flippant? You spear a piece of potato with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. It was just a fleeting thought, it’s fine. Weird things happen in the mind anyway, as long as you don’t mean it, you’re okay.

“Would you…” Feyre’s asking, “be interested in joining me? We could have an easel set up in your room?”

A part of the potato goes down the wrong way as you hear the question, hand grabbing the napkin as you cover your mouth, coughing. You clear your throat when you’re done, making sure to wipe your lips subtly as you pull the napkin away, sipping on the glass of water to help clear your throat. Once you’ve recovered, you remember her question.

It would be nice. Really nice, actually, but… “it’s fine, please don’t worry. Painting’s your thing, and I think…personal, to you. Besides, I have my books,” you excuse, heart sinking a little, but it’s for the better. She’s already short on time anyway, she needs to keep that for herself, even if you can’t help but want it.

The same look passes behind her eyes, and you now wonder if you can’t figure it out because…because you might no longer know her well enough.

“It’s probably for the better,” Rhys announces, bringing the moment to a swift end, “Feyre’s nude models would probably upset your delicate sensibilities, anyway.”

Your eyes widen and you nearly choke on air as wild, ferocious heat swarms your features, staring ahead, bewildered.

Rhys grins as a fuming Feyre smacks him on the shoulder, indignant rage lighting her eyes. “Lies! All lies,” she snaps, before sparing you a somewhat apologetic glance. “He’s joking, obviously,” she reassures, shooting a glare Rhys’ way at that last part. “His humour’s apparently a few centuries out of date.”

“Speaking of things on the old side,” a golden voice calls from the hallway, parading into the dining room in heels tall and thin enough to potentially run someone through. “Rhys, is there another case of this stuff? Az wants some more.”

The High Lord rolls his eyes, amusement clear, Feyre settling at his side, feigned anger dissipating as if it were never there, her eyes twinkling again.

“We all know you finished off the bottle before you even reached Az’s room,” Amren snipes, thickly-jewelled fingers sparkling as she nurses her own glass, laughter rising from the table.

“Oh, like you’re any better Amren. You could polish off bottles of blood in the time it took me to eat an appetiser,” Mor replies, heels clicking across the floor as she sweeps through the room in a flurry of vibrant red and stunning gold, taking her seat opposite Elain—between Amren and Rhys.

One seat and across from your own position.

The meal fully commencing now all able players are assembled at the table.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya @starlitlakes

cbmthy taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @fae-glamour-petrichorus @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #multi part fic #cbmthy #cbmthy chapter 17 #azriel acotar

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negativecharm · 7 months

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Sugar daddy!Ghost x reader fluff HCs for my own well being (could be yours too)::

-Maybe Sugar daddy!Ghost would send you a box of your favourite brand of cookies because he just had a thought that he can just send you stuff randomly more than you ask from him.

-He'd get obssessed with you too quickly and more than he ever actually mentally signed up to the whole thing.

-He'd get more and more involved with your lifestyle than you ever really expected him to.

-He'd undoubtedly check in on you once he returns home from the military because he's turning to a point where it's way too obvious that he likes you more than he says it.

-He considers you as the most precious thing in his life even if he thinks you don't take him as anything more seriously than your sugar daddy.

-If you tease him about his age and the age difference he'll say something in return that'll have you flustered for days whenever you think about it.

-He silently wishes that you would fall for him like he falls for you anytime you guys are on a phone call or a video call.

-He'd be the most reliable source for your emotional support during exam seasons. He finds it endearing how much you work hard for your own future (he also adds him being apart of it to his wishlist.)

-He'd literally intertwine your souls together if it was possible so you wouldn't leave him on any conditions. He's scared that one day you might make a decision when you think you can divert ways and live on your own without needing anyone (without needing him.)

-He makes up excuses to meet up which always ends with him getting dazed by just looking at you and wishing on the inside that he'd met you on a more significant reasons.

-The first time you met him outside you were stunned by his demeanour and size which was written all over your face. That definitely awaken something in him nonetheless he finds it adorable. He finds YOU adorable.

-On your first meet up he took you on a bike ride. It was just another excuse for you to hold him a bit tighter around his waist like real couples do. When you tell him you've never ridden anything higher than a 125 or a 300 he decides to go faster, scaring the shit out of you, eliciting a little squeal out of you that he also finds adorable. You didn't even open your eyes to see the nightlife passing by like nothing but blended lines of colorful lights. You were too busy getting scared shitless while you have your whole face pressed to his back. He loves putting you in that kinda situations.

#this isn't even in perfect order i'm tired #he's 17-20 years older than you in this one cuz yk he's your sugar daddy #could be biker!Ghost too? maybe?#Sugar daddy!Ghost #fluff #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod headcanons #cod aus #simon riley #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod mw #cod hcs #cod x reader #cod mw ghost #ghost x reader #cod #hades writes

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 17 - Orgy

Soap x Gaz x Ghost x Price x Rudy x Alejandro x Reader - 5.3k (on ao3)

summary: You have an orgy with your favorite boys. (Reader POV)

cw: double penetration in two holes, double penetration in one hole, spitroasting, sex in front of other people, very light soft degradation, praise, overstimulation

note: this doesn't even have an ATTEMPT at plot alright? we're here to be horny and move on. also i think this is more gangbang than orgy but whatever lol

You’re not sure who you’re making out with. It’s not like you care all that much - laid out on the bed like a queen, Price serving as your throne where he holds you half up with your legs spread - you’re perfectly content to just sit and kiss, for hours on end.

It was Soap first - Soap and his messy kisses, broad stripes licked into your mouth, sucking on your tongue so vehemently you nearly thought he was trying to keep it. He was playful, nipping at your lips, grinning everytime he pulled back enough for you to see.

Then Gaz, who shoved Soap away to have a turn with you. They’d bickered for a moment before Price, from over your shoulder, big hands cupping your chest and massaging, reminded him that he could lick your pussy too. He was more than happy to duck down after that, leaving you with Gaz.

Gaz was sweet, long slow kisses that matched the way Price groped you but were a sharp contrast to the eagerness Soap had. Kyle peppered your mouth with kisses, layering them one over the other and hardly giving you time to breathe between them, while Soap ate you with a fervor you’ve never felt before. The difference in pace left you squirming, just a bit, but Price kept you still for them.

You’re not sure when Gaz left, but Soap’s work on your cunt felt so good, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t open your eyes even to see who next took a turn.

He’s got scruff on his face, which you feel rubbing against your cheeks and your palms when you reach up to hold him. His kisses are fun - you can feel him smiling and humming into your lips - and he works your mouth slowly, tangling your tongue together. Where Soap and Gaz had wanted to explore, your mystery man wants to play.

You want to look and see who it is, but the pleasure doesn’t let you, Soap’s mouth on your clit, two of his fingers buried deep in your ass, Price giving you sharp little pinches around your areolas - it all keeps you just a little too foggy to work up the energy. You’re content to luxuriate in the sensations, to relax back into Price and just let your body feel.

“There you go, doll,” Price coos from over your shoulder. “Nice and relaxed for us, yeah? Gonna need you to stay like that if you want to take us all.”

“Please,” you breathe between kisses, eyelashes fluttering as you finally manage to look up. “Wanna feel you all.”

It’s Rudy above you, a soft smile turning his lips up and leaving crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You reach up to cup his cheek, but at that exact moment Soap takes your clit between his lips and sucks, and your movement is halted as you moan.

You hear and feel both Rudy and Price laugh, and Rudy leans forward the last few inches to nuzzle his cheek into your palm. The two of you lean foreheads against each other as you moan, hips making small grinding motions into Soap’s face.

“You will,” Rudy says. “You’re a good girl, yes?”

You nod with a small keen as Johnny starts to work a third finger inside of your back hole.

He smiles. “Then you’ll take all of us.”

Alejandro replaces Price behind you at a certain point, his hard muscle a much less comfortable chair compared to the soft layer of fat lining Price. He’s smaller though, which means you can roll your face back into his neck and he only has to duck a few inches to give you the kisses you silently request.

“Out of the way, hermano,” Rudy says, softly shoving Soap away from you by the shoulders. Johnny doesn’t go easily at all, growling a little and hammering his fingers into you just a bit harder, enough to have you gasping and squirming. Ghost grabs Johnny by the nape of his neck before he can get too aggressive, yanking him away with an unimpressed look.

“Thanks,” Rudy says on a laugh, getting a nod in return from Ghost. “Now, for you,” he turns to you and smiles, settling himself between your widely spread thighs so his hard member rests on your center, shaft pressing against your clit. “You ready to take us both, cariño?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pulling away from Alejandro and his absolutely sinful mouth, shooting both of them your best pleading look. “Please, want to feel you.”

“Shh,” Alejandro soothes, stroking one hand down the center of your chest and the other lining his own head up with your stretched hole. “You’ll get what you want, just relax for us.”

You take a deep breath, let your eyes slide shut. On the exhale they both push in, a slow thrust that leaves you feeling like you might burst. The three of you moan in sync, your head thrown back to Ale’s shoulder, his forehead falling to your temple, Rudy curling over so he can mouth at one of your nipples.

It takes a bit for them to bottom out inside of them at the slow pace, both of them large men. You’ve never had something quite so large in your ass, but the stretch feels exquisite.

The three of you are panting in sync as soon as you’re filled to the brim.

“You first, hermano,” Alejandro says from above you, his voice rough with desire.

Rudy laughs a little breathlessly. “I’m not going to argue with you.” He pulls far enough back to give you a long, sweet kiss, pulling away with a playful nip before holding himself up. He rests his hands on Alejandro’s shoulders to give himself the leverage that he wants.

“Feels so good,” you moan, undulating your hips just enough that they both pull out and sink back in. “C’mon, need it.”

Alejandro laughs, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you. “Be patient, amor, he’s gonna give it to you.”

You try to shoot Rudy your best you better look, but it’s probably a little dulled by the man sucking hickies into your neck.

Rudy fucks you deep. On each thrust he pulls out nearly the entire way, and each time he pushes back in he nearly hits your cervix. He’s not slow, but he’s not fucking you like an animal either. He feels perfect inside of you, sliding along that spot inside of you and bumping your clit every time he bottoms out.

The two of you moan loudly as he fucks you, Alejandro grunting at the sensations he’s getting, the way you clench down on him like you never want him to leave. You blink wet eyes open, glancing over to see what the others are up to on the other side of the bed.

You see Gaz with Price’s dick in his mouth - not sucking, just warming him - and Ghost jacking a very wiggly Soap off. They’re all staring at the show you’re putting on, all a little red in the cheeks with heavier breaths.

Price meets your eyes first. “You making them feel good, pet?”

You nod as much as you can manage, breath hitching when you try to answer.

“She’s unimaginable,” Rudy pants from above you, hips working just a bit quicker as he nears the edge. “Tight like you wouldn’t believe.”

Alejandro laughs at that, one hand slipping down your stomach to explore the soaked folds of your cunt. “Won’t be once we’re done with her.”

You moan when he finds your clit, rubbinb you in fast and rhythmic little circles that drag you right to the edge.

“Don’t leave her so loose we can’t have any fun,” Ghost gruffs, nearly drowned out by the moans and slick slapping sounds filling the room.

“Not-” Rudy starts, then stops to catch his breath as he starts to really fuck you, thrusts hard and pounding. “Not selfish, h-hermano.”

There’s a small laugh at that, but you don’t know who it’s from. You’re too focused on arching your back as much as you can, clenching down hard on the cock still stuffing your ass but not doing a thing, the way Alejandro’s fingers are driving you insane with their perfect little motions, and the way Rudy’s hitting every perfect spot inside of you.

“Gonna- gonne come, please, feels so good!” You gasp, moaning and letting your head roll back onto Alejandro’s shoulder, hips moving in a desperate attempt to push yourself off that cliff. Your hands come back to grip Alejandro’s head, and he presses kisses to your shoulder.

Finally, finally, you manage to reach that peak. You moan loudly as your thrown into an orgasm, body going completely limp between the two men, cunt clenching along with the waves of pleasure and milking both of them.

Rudy comes just after you, your inner muscle’s massage triggering his own orgasm. He buries himself to the hilt inside of you when he does, maoning and panting against your skin.

“Fuck,” Rudy hisses over your shoulder, working his fingers and sending both you and Rudy into overstimulation. “Feel so good clenched tight like that, amor, you feel so good for us.”

Rudy lifts his head enough to nudge at Alejandro’s head and you hear the slick sounds of making out as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. Alejandro’s fingers slow as your heartbeat does, working you down from the pleasure in a perfect way. You feel sort of like you’re being caught in a bed of feathers - a sharp fall with a soft fall, wrapped in softness and warmth when you hit the ground.

“Buena niña,” Rudy pants when he pulls apart from Alejandro. “Such a good girl, feel so good when you come around me.”

You can only whine at that, body still a little worked up with both holes filled.

Rudy fixes that problem by pulling out just a moment later, both his and your eyes glued to your hole as he does. There’s a slow dribble of cum as soon as he’s free of you, and neither of you bothers to hold back your moans.

“My turn,” Alejandro says, and you can feel the way he smirks against your neck. “You ready, cariño?”

You take a few deep breaths, let your nerves settle back into your body a bit, then nod. “Yes, want you too, Ale, want you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he purrs. A moment later he’s got you flipped onto your front, hands just barely catching you so you’re held up on hands and knees. He’s solid and tall behind you when you glance over your shoulder, hands planted on your hips to keep himself fully inside of you.

He cocks his head to the side a little, asking permission. Like this, you’re just a foot away from the sight of Gaz’s throat working at Price’s length, and over him you can see Soap writing in Ghost’s lap as the larger man gives his cock no mercy.

You shift your knees wider, slip down until your chest is pressed to the mattress, then nod your consent to Alejandro.

He braces you for a moment, giving your hips a quick squeeze as he shifts himself, then pulls nearly the entire way out of you. You shift on your knees a bit, whining at the anticipation, but he only shushes you, giving your hips a quick tap.

He doesn’t fuck you like Rudy had. Alejandro fucks you deep, but hardly pulls out even half-way on every thrust. It’s like he wants to be as connected to you as possible, keeping as much of himself buried in your heat as he can while still making himself feel good. The short, sharp thrusts leave you moaning on every breath, the sounds punched out of you.

“Good girl,” he moans above you, grip brusing on your hips. “Such a good cocksleeve for me, yeah? Nice and tight around my cock… clench down for me, amor, make it feel better.”

You listen to his command, moaning even louder when he feels that much larger inside of you. Clenching your rim tight around him makes the stretch burn just the slightest bit, even with all the prep you’d gotten, and you relish in the slight sting.

“Don’t foget about her,” Rudy pants from where he’s collapsed beside you, eyes glued to the way your cheeks bounce on every thrust. “She feels best when she’s coming.”

Alejandro bites out a curse, one of his hands leaving to move back to your slick folds. He tucks two fingers inside of you, drawing a loud cry from your throat, and rubs the heel of his hand against your swollen clit.

“Alejandro!” You shout, pushing yourself back on him and his hand to try and get more of the perfect sensations. “P-please, feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He leans over you, breath ghosting over your back as his thrusts get a little sloppier, a little harsher. “Feels nice, huh? Both holes stuffed full, just the way you were meant to be.”

His own words are what set him off, his dirty talk fading into a stream of moans as he stiffens buried inside of you, the hot splash of cum coating your insides. He works his palm and fingers slowly in your cunt, and you’re brought to a rolling orgasm, clenching hard on him.

Your moan is nearly pornographic, face squished against the sheets and back arched so your ass stays high in the air. He grinds his hips into your ass, getting as much of his dick inside of you as he can while you milk the cum from him.

He pulls out uncermoniously, and you can’t help but whine a little sadly at the sudden emptiness as both his cock and fingers leave you. He hushes you a bit, fingering some of his come back into your loose hole. “There you go, keep it nice and warm for me, cariño.”

“Alright,” you hear Ghost grunt from in front of you, open your eyes up just in time to see him throw Johnny off his lap and stand to make his way to the other side of the bed. “Our turn now, fuck off.”

Rudy and Alejandro both laugh good-naturedly, shifting to take their places beside Price and Gaz. You see the two of them cuddle up together, their slick cocks resting by one another. Gaz has shifted to nursing Price’s balls as he smokes a cigar, blowing the smoke straight up to the ceiling.

“Head up, c’mon,” Ghost grunts as he shifts onto the bed in front of you, resting on his knees and holding his dick straight out as you push yourself up. “Johnny, you can have at her cunt. Don’t come before I do.”

“Yes, Sir,” Soap says, and you just barely have time to brace yourself for the rough fucking you know is coming when Johnny rams himself balls-deep inside of you. You both moan loudly at the feeling, and you fall back down to your elbows.

Ghost doesn’t bother telling you to sit up again, instead just grabs you by the hair and pulls up until he can slip himself into your mouth. With the way Soap is pounding you, you’re forced to nearly deepthroat him as soon as your lips close.

You gag immediately, scrambling up onto your hands to try and save your poor throat. It’s almost impossible to think past the way that Soap uses your slick hole, the pounding making stars appear across your vision.

Ghost laughs at you when tears start to leak down your cheeks, one hand coming to pat you just a little harshly on the cheek as you’re fucked back and forth on his dick.

“Don’t even need to do anything, do I?” He hums, the hand on your face moving lower to wrap around your throat, making it feel even more like you’re choking. “Doing good, Johnny, you’re practically fucking her mouth for me.”

Johnny’s far past the point of words, only managing to moan as he huncehs over your back, lips tracing patterns across your shoulder blades and leaving trails of spit.

“Yeah, good boy. You’re a good girl too, sweetheart,” Ghost praises, using the hand on your head to brush the hair away from your face. You look up just in time to catch the smile on his face as he stares down at you. “Such a good cock sucker. Why don’t you use your tongue a little, c’mon. Don’t make Johnny do all the work now.”

It’s hard to work past the pistoning into your cunt, but you manage to listen to Ghost, licking up the underside of his length as best you can while being fucked raw. Johnny’s pace never falters, and you have no idea how he manages to keep himself from flying over the edge.

You trace the vein on the underside of Ghost’s dick with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking to try and make him feel good. You can’t do much to move your head - the palm holding the back of your skull leaves that in his hands - so you try to focus your efforts on what you can do.

The gagging sounds are constant. The way Soap is fucking you, you can’t hold your balance properly, and you end up choking on nearly every thrust.

At some point, Johnny reaches the end of his rope. “Ghost, please, need to come, have to, ‘m so close, please….”

Ghost chuckles, a deep and mean sound. “Can’t hold it?”

A whine from Johnny, and you feel him shake his head against your back.

“Hm. Well, that’s too bad. Both me and our girl here are gettin’ off before you. Why don’t the two of you work on makin’ that happen.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, but when Johnny’s fingers start to work frantically at your oversensitive clit, you understand. Your eyes roll back in your head at the pleasure, and it’s all you can do to keep from going completely limp and suffocating on Ghost’s dick.

“There you go,” he moans, thrusting a little further into your mouth. “Feels good when you moan, sweetheart. Make her do it again, Johnny.”

And he does. You’re trapped in the animalistic fucking from Soap, your poor hole feeling stretched out and used, and you’re unable to escape the relentless pleasure shooting from your clit to your brain.

Both you and Johnny are thankful that it doesn’t take Ghost long at all to come. Once you’re moaning and choking on every thrust, it only takes a few seconds for him to be spurting come down your throat.

He pulls your mouth off of him, holding you back so that he can jack some of the come onto your face. He works his fat cock roughly, and you can’t help but stare at him as he gets himself off. He’s mean to himself, and somehow that’s what gives you the last push you need to clench down hard around Soap.

This orgasm is almost painful. Johnny doesn’t let up on you at all, keeps hammering his cock into you, keeps rubbing just past the line of too-harshly, and it leaves you crying out. You collapse back down to the bed when Ghost lets you, face smearing cum into the sheets. You feel like every nerve is on fire - your clit especially - and you instinctually start to writhe away from the source of it all, from Johnny.

You hear Price laugh from the side. “Ease up on her, Johnny, you’ve got the poor thing running away from you.”

Johnny whines over your shoulder, digging his teeth into your skin and sucking. Your eyes roll back in your head as you’re forced into an even steeper arch, his cock bullying another inch inside of you.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ghost grunts, and you feel Johnny pulled off of you. One second you’re receiving a fucking like you never have before, the next you’re left empty and open, legs still spread wide. You can’t help but whine a little, blinking teary eyes open.

Soap is begging from behind you. “No, no, no, L.t., please, I was so close, I can’t fuckin’… please, feel like I’m gonna die-!”

Ghost scoffs and you hear what you might think is a slap. You’re too focused on watching the way Price shifts Gaz off of his cock and up, then moves him like a doll so he’s leaning back agains the headboard and sitting up properly to look over your shoulder at Ghost and Soap.

“You’re gonna die, really Johnny? Stop throwing a tantrum or you really won’t get to come in our girl tonight.”

“No, sorry, sorry, I’ll be good, promise.”

“Then shut up and wait for your command.”

“Yes, sir.”

While the two of them argue, Price leans over to scoop you up by the armpits, wearing a sweet smile. He settles you on Gaz’s lap, knees bracketing his hips, then presses a dry kiss to your forehead. You wrap your arms around Kyle’s neck, leaning forward to nuzzle him as Price gives him the same treatment. His shaft rests perfectly against your cunt, head just poking at your hole.

“Bring him over here, Simon,” Price orders, stroking both of his hands over you and Gaz’s heads. As Johnny settles behind you he slips a hand down to your neck, forcing you to rest your face against Gaz’s throat and arch your back.

Price stays with the three of you still, using one hand to steady Gaz’s cock and the other to shift your hips, helping you to sink down over it. You both moan into each other’s skin, and you feel a little drool slip from your lips.

“Good, there you go,” Price soothes, petting your thigh and down to Kyle’s once you’re fully seated. “Now, stretch her out a little more to take you, Johnny. Don’t be too quick - I still haven’t had my turn.”

Price stays another minute or so to help you get used to riding Gaz, guiding you up and down in a slow, but filling motion. Gaz is just as overwhelmed with pleasure as you are, gasping and moaning against your shoulder.

Once Price leaves, you feel a finger trace around Kyle’s cock. You jerk forward with a little whine, eyes flying open to meet Price’s where he’s settled against the headboard.

“Just relax,” he soothes as Ghost settles next to him. “Let Johnny fuck you, yeah? You know he’ll make it feel good. Poor lad just wants to come.”

Johnny whines at that, almost an agreement, and you nod a little, canting your hips further back so he’s got more room to work.

The first finger has you moaning, head thrown back at the stretch. He uses the cum and lube from your ass to slick your passage, making the sound of Kyle fucking you even wetter.

Each finger he adds feels like it’ll split you down the middle. Johnny doesn’t rush you but he does move just a bit faster than you might’ve asked - not so fast that you safeword, but enough for you to notice the stretch. Each addition makes you moan, burying your face a little further into the safety of Gaz’s neck.

Gaz himself is moaning on every thrust. The two of you work together, him helping lift you up so you can fuck yourself properly on him. You can feel him sucking hickies into your neck, and the soft throbbing offers a nice distraction from the pleasure wreaking havoc on your body.

Finally, Johnny deems you stretched enough.

“Go slowly,” Ghost warns as Johnny lines himself up with you. Kyle settles you so you rest on his thighs and he’s buried to the hilt, Johnny’s head pushing lightly at your rim. “You hurt her, I hurt you.”

“I know,” Johnny grunts, sinking his teeth into the shoulder Gaz hasn’t claimed. He starts to force his way into your dripping hole, and the three of you groan in unison.

You’ve never been so stretched in your life - as Johnny slowly sinks in you’re nearly convinced you’ll tear. The pressure alone is almost better than anything you’ve ever felt, and you can’t stop the continuous stream of whines and moans as Johnny inches further and further inside of you.

Gaz and Soap are just as far gone as you, both of them grunting and moaning.

“Fuck,” Gaz pants, fingers massaging your hip to keep himself still. “Can feel you, Johnny, you’re so warm.”

“Of-of course you can feel me,” Johnny says, letting go of your shoulder to lick around the area he’d been abusing. “We’re fucking the same hole, mate.”

You bark out a laugh at that, but it quickly turns into a draw out moan when Johnny buries himself inside of you.

“Let us know when you’re alright,” Gaz says into your ear, voice heavy with need. “We can wait for you.”

It takes what feels like an eternity for you to adjust to the stretch. You rest yourself fully on Gaz’s shoulders, giving him your weight so you can just sit on their cocks. You take deep breaths to try and soothe the growing ache and get as used to the stretch as you can.

It must be several minutes later when you finally nod. “Go ahead,” you breathe. “I’m good, I can take it.”

Johnny laughs in your ear, the sound a little choked. “Attagirl.”

They find a pace that works quickly, Soap thrusting in as Gaz pulls out. The rhythm leaves you constantly filled, one of them always as deep as they can get. It also leaves them both in shambles, the rubbing of the other’s cock combined with your wet heat sending them into space.

None of you are capable of speech, just sounds pressed into each other’s skin. You think maybe Kyle and Johnny lock lips for a bit, but it’s hard to tell past the sounds of your coupling. You certainly don’t have the strength to do anything but lay there and take them into your body.

The way they work you over, one of them is always pressing against your g-spot. The constant stimulation leaves you whining. You feel like you might die, might just burn up into a thousand embers. Every inch of you feels overexposed, flayed open, and your cunt throbs.

You don’t need any pressure to your clit this time. Just the stretch of two cocks at once is more than enoug. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave - you can feel it growing, know it’s going to be catastrophic, and when it hits you feel dragged under

Neither Soap or Gaz let up as you reach your peak. In fact they only get more vigorous, losing their rhythm as they start to focus on just getting themselves off. You yelp when they bottom out at once, one of them managing to poke at your cervix, and the insticutal muscle spasm has both of them moaning.

Johnny comes first, panting and gnawing at your shoulder as he bucks his hips into yours. You’re convinced there must be red spots on your ass from how hard he thrusts into you, but even that slight pain just makes everything feel better.

Gaz’s orgasm is triggered by Johnny’s - feeling you clench down so perfectly on him, feeling Soap’s cock twitch and throb right next to his, it’s all too much. They’re both thrown off of that cliff edge, moaning into your skin.

By the time it’s over and you’ve all cooled down, the three of you are left just a limp pile of limbs, unable to do anything but be.

Price is the one who finally untangles you all. He grabs you by your elbows, drawing you away from Gaz and into his arms. You can’t help but wince and cry out when both Johnny and Kyle slip out of you at the same time, your hole fluttering around nothing.

“I know, I know,” Price soothes, laying you on your back. “You’re ok, deep breaths for me now. That’s good, doll, just like that.”

He hovers above you, stroking up and down your ribs while you slowly float back into your skin. When you finally manage to look up at him, he’s wearing a look of such pride that you can’t help but cry a little more.

He coos, swiping away your tears. “Pretty girl, you’re alright. Just one more, and then you’re done.”

You nod. “Want- want to make you feel good too,” you sniffle a bit, leaning further into his hand. “Can’t come again though, won’t feel good.”

“You don’t want any more orgasms?” His tone is a little condescening, but you just shake your head. “That’s alright, honey, you don’t need to get off. Just gotta lay nice and still for me, you can do that, can’t you?”

You nod as he tucks your legs up, pushing your thighs back until your knees rest by your head. The stretch is hardly noticeable with every other sensation wracking your body.

You feel his fingers pet around your pussy, whine when he glances over your clit.

“I’d hoped to have my turn with this little hole,” he hums, tucking a few fingers inside of you and rubbing. You hardly feel them at all. “But it’s too stretched out for me. Bet I wouldn’t feel a thing if I tried to fuck you here, huh?”

You whine sadly at that, burying your face in your calf.

“That’s alright. I know needy girls have to be stretched like that sometimes, it’s not your fault, pet. Just means I’ll have to use your other hole - good thing you have two, hm?”

He doesn’t give you any more prep, just rubs himself a few times and thrusts into your asshole in one long movement.

You’re so fucked out, it’s hard to keep track of his words after that. You can feel them rumbling through your thighs when he leans down to pepper kisses across your face, but they’re unintelligible. All you can focus on are the long, slow thrusts into you. Price drops nearly his full weight into you on every thrust, but each movement feels glacial.

He’s big enough to stretch you out a bit, to make sure you still feel the slight sting of something too big being where it’s not meant to be. It’s not enough to get you off, but the heavy weight and motions still feel heavenly inside you.

Eventually he comes - you’re not sure how long it’s been or what it is that gets him there, but you feel him jerk to a stop, then feel his come spreading inside of you. It’s a nice feeling, and you smile as you let your eyes drift shut.

“Thank you,” you hear him whisper, his whiskers brushing over your cheeks. “Thank you, sweet girl. Felt so good for me.”

Things exist in snippets past that.

Someone pulls you up to their chest (you open your eyes long enough to recongize Alejandro, go back to snoozing right after), someone wipes a cloth softly over both of your holes and shushes your whine (you think you see Ghost walking from the en-suite to the bed), someone lays their weight across your back (you feel Soap’s mohawk brush your arm), another over your legs.

You fall asleep like that, dogpiled in bed with your favorite men, all of you drained and sated. You can’t think of a more perfect way to spend a night.

#this one is only so long because it takes a WHILE to write penetration with 6 different dicks #wish me luck in these tags my god #kinktober day 17 #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #soap x gaz x ghost x price x rudy x alejandro x reader #john “soap” mactavish x kyle “gaz” garrick x simon “ghost” riley x john price x rodolfo parra x alejandro vargas #poly 141 x reader #alerudy x reader #yeah? we good?#poly 141 x alerudy x reader #now we're done #bo writes

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actuallysaiyan · 5 months

Note

Hi again!

Here are the requests for DBZ that I mentioned in my previous ask!

Feel free to write them when you want/can!!!

Dating Vegeta would include headcanon

Dating Future!Trunks would include headcanon

Dating Android 17 would include headcanon

Dating Goku would include headcanon

These headcans can be just SFW or both SFW and NSFW.

It doesn’t really matter to me!

warnings: smut, oral sex(fem and male receiving), mentions of trauma, possessiveness, protectiveness, fluff, vaginal fingering, possible mentions of violence word count: 1.7k pairings: Vegeta x Fem!Reader, Future Trunks x Fem!Reader, Android 17 x Fem!Reader and Son Goku x Fem!Reader a/n: I didn't know if you wanted it all in one post, but I figured it was easier for me to do it like this! I hope you really enjoy!!!

SFW

Don’t expect much in terms of romance. He’s not that kind of man. But don’t fret, he will always be there to protect you and defend your honor.

If you show him any kind of affection, he’ll be so flustered and not sure how to handle it. Usually he gets quite irritated, but in reality he’s loving it so much. He wants you to be soft with him.

That being said, if you were to argue with him and fight as well, he’ll be so happy and so turned on. Saiyans do enjoy a feisty lover and they want to feel challenged.

But Vegeta doesn’t always want to fight. He wants domesticity as well and wants to feel loved just as much as anyone else. Show him the softness of a human lover and he will always come home to you for more affection.

He might surprise you sometimes by offering affection of his own. He’ll be red faced and stuttering, but he’ll offer you his heart and soul when he realizes you’re the one for him. You’ve got a lover for life. NSFW

Vegeta wasn’t the most experienced when you first met him, and he was so shy and flustered the first time you tried initiating anything intimate. His hands fumbled and his mouth felt dry and his brain was blank.

With time, he found the right rhythm and touches just for you. He figured out exactly what you like and became the best at pleasuring you. Even if you are more experienced than him, he shows you just how much he enjoys pleasuring you.

Despite what you initially thought, Vegeta loves to give more than receive. He really loves being between your thighs, tongue gliding so perfectly against your wet folds. He drinks up your nectar like it’s the nectar of the gods.

Vegeta enjoys many different positions, but his favorites are doggy and mating press. Both for different reasons as well, considering they give him different kinds of control and feeling.

Sometimes he enjoys sensual, slow sex where you both take your time pleasuring each other. Most of the time his pace is rough and animalistic. He’s very loud during sex, lots of growling and grunting.

SFW

He’s so considerate of your feelings, but at times he can be flaky and miss dates. He’s not always the most focused when it comes to those kinds of things, but just know he really means well and never wants you to feel abandoned.

He likes to surprise you with cutesy things. He’ll make you a bouquet of wildflowers, draw you something he knows you find cute, make you a playlist of songs that remind him of you.

Trunks will always have your back no matter what. He will defend you with his life. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to him and he won’t let you slip out of his grasp no matter what.

He enjoys spending quiet time with you. You two can be seen cuddling in his bedroom, watching a movie you’ve both seen a million times over. Or you can be in the forest together, walking around and enjoying nature.

He’s big on romantic gestures and often uses them to excuse his flakiness. He’ll plan romantic dates for you even if it’s not always available to either of you because of the way the world is in your future. Trunks wants you to be so happy either way.

NSFW

He’s good with his hands. Trunks enjoys massaging your whole body first to really get you so relaxed and loose for him. Then he likes to suck on your nipples while he fingers you slowly. You’ll be dribbling all over his hand before long.

He’s obsessed with your scent. It could be part of his Saiyan instincts that kick in, but he loves your natural scent. He rubs himself against you just to get more of it on him. And the scent that comes from your pussy makes him drunk on you.

Trunks likes to act tough sometimes, but he absolutely crumbles if you give him a blowjob. He can barely look down at you as you have your lips wrapped around him because the scene is much too erotic for him to handle.

He’s a big fan of lingerie! Get dressed up for him and show off your body in those silky, lacy bits of clothing for him. He’ll spend so long just admiring your beautiful body and undressing you ever so slowly.

Trunks loves pulling out and cumming all over your ass or pussy. He enjoys looking at you with his seed all over your body parts. If you ask him to cum on your face during a blowjob, he’ll bust right then and there. He views it as marking you up.

SFW

He’s awkward at first. He doesn’t truly believe you’ve got feelings for him. He’s done so much bad in life, he figures his chance at romance was over. But when you show him softness, he’s melting.

Give him time to blossom and he’ll become the perfect boyfriend. He enjoys the closeness of being your boyfriend. He wants you to rely on him whenever you can. He’ll show you he can be so reliable.

Android 17 comes with a lot of baggage, and he never wants to open up about it. He’s ashamed of his past. But from time to time, when he does open up to you, please listen to him. The more you listen without judgment, he will be more open to telling you about his past this way.

If you were to play with his hair while kissing him, he’d be so flustered. His cheeks would be so pink and he’d look away. But he absolutely loves it when you play with his hair and kiss him so softly.

He worries a lot whenever he can’t be around you to protect you. He’s vowed to protect you for the rest of his life. It’s a way for him to cope with what he’s done and how to continue to live for a cause that’s worth it.

NSFW

Android 17 has an obsession with cumming inside of you. When he learned that his sister had a baby, he became a man who was relentless with trying to have his own baby. If you don’t want kids, make sure you get on some sort of birth control.

He loves slow and passionate sex more than fast and rough sex. Being able to take his time with you is the best feeling in the world. He’ll be in missionary position, your legs wrapped around him and all he can think about is how happy he is.

He’s big on kissing you slowly and letting it build into something else. Making out makes him hard like a horny teenager. There’s just something about your warm tongue rubbing against his that makes him dangerously close to busting in his pants.

He may need aftercare after sex. It takes a lot out of him emotionally, so just lay there with him and play with his hair and enjoy the pillowtalk. If it gets too intense in his mind, you can just kiss him and get on top again to let him fuck away the pain.

Android 17 loves to go on and on and on for hours. He’ll exhaust you with his stamina. He is a fucking machine, literally and he uses that to his advantage all of the time. Just remember your safe word!

SFW

He’s not the most clever when it comes to love, but he knows how to show you his affection through actions rather than words. He may come across as really dumb a lot of the time, but he surprises you.

You can expect cute little gestures often. He’ll give you wildflowers, hunt you an animal for you to cook, or even just pull you into his arms after a battle to kiss you all over your face.

Goku is so possessive and protective. Nobody is going to get between you two. He’s going to show anyone who’s interested that you and him are so close and nobody can ever break you up.

He’s got to have at least one hand on your body at all times whenever he’s near you. He’s also big on hand holding and wrapping his arm around you to keep you close to him as you two are out walking.

Doesn’t always know how to be the most romantic and he might actually ask for advice from Bulma to show him the right things to do or say during a date. He cleans up really good too and looks amazing in a suit. It’s not his favorite thing to do, but he’d do it for you.

NSFW

Goku is needy and wants to fuck all the time. Sometimes it’s even when it’s an inappropriate time. You’ll need to try and get him to behave as much as possible. But sometimes he just wants to shove his hands down your pants and feel your wet cunt against his large fingers.

He loves fast, wild and sloppy sex. Sloppy and wet kisses, snapping his hips so fast and hard, bruising grip against your hips, leaving scratch marks down his back as you try to hold on as best as you can.

Goku eats pussy like it’s his last meal. He devours you like you’re the only flavor he wants on his tongue forever. He’s really good at it too, using his instincts to figure out exactly what you like in terms of getting head.

His fingers slide so deep inside you, reaching places you didn’t even know could be reached just with fingers. He holds you on his lap, fingers deep inside you curling against that sweet spot as his thumb rubs against your swollen nub.

He’s messy with cumming. It’s always a bit inside and a bit outside, just messing up your pussy with his seed. He loves to play with it afterwards, pushing it back into you and then smearing it all over your clit. He’ll easily make you cum again like this after he’s had an intense orgasm of his own.

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spaciebabie · 2 years

Text

sun: my bad dawg.

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bucky-barnes-lover · 7 months

Text

Kinktober day 17: Henry Cavill

Lumberjack! Henry Cavill x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, Poorly written Oral (m receiving), Slight Praise kink, Slight Size kink

W.C: 653

The sound of wood being cut echoed around the tin shed. I stood in the doorway watching my husband cutting up firewood.

"Dinner's almost ready" I yelled to him, over the noise.

"I'll be inside in a minute, love" He responded. His silky british accent sent shivers down my spine.

"Okay. I'll set the table." I responded, feeling my face heat up. I could tell Henry was smirking as he watched me walk away. He knows I get all flustered when he calls me Love.

I could hear him chopping a couple more blocks of wood as I made my way inside our cozy cabin, out in the forest.

The table was set and dinner was laid out on the table.

"Could you please put some more wood on the fire, Baby" I asked him as he brought in the sack of wood and placed it near the fireplace.

"Yep. Was just about to do that." Henry grunted as he kneeled down to place more wood on the flames.

"What's for dinner, Love?" He questioned as I took his bowl.

"Shepherd's pie, Your favorite" I advised seeing his face lit up with a huge smile.

We had dinner in peace, complete with a glass of red wine and small talk.

Henry offered to do the dishes as I went for a shower.

I lay on our bed, cozy in my silk pajamas and the warm fluffy blanket.

Henry came out of the bathroom, shirtless with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

I inhaled, my heart stuck in my throat. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling the wetness.

"Cat got your tongue Love?" Henry asked as he saw my reaction. He was undeniably big underneath all those clothes and not just his height.

"I want you to fuck me" I whispered, without thinking twice.

"What was that love?" He smirked,

"I want you to fuck me, Henry" I stated, sounding a lot more stubborn than I thought.

"My dear girl gets all wet and turned on when she sees her man, so much bigger than her" He mocked, removing the towel from around his waist.

His huge cock sprung free. Hard and ready, I got on my knees without question and wrapped my hands around him. Spreading the precum along his cock before taking him in my mouth. Henry let out an animalistic growl while I worked my tongue around him. Taking him even further in my mouth, gagging a couple times but never once backing out.

"Fuck love. You feel so good" He moaned as he grabbed a handful of my hair and started thrusting into my mouth.

Drool seeped down my chin onto my pj's, moans escaped my lips. Finally I let him out of my mouth with a 'pop'.

Before I could comprehend what was going on, Henry picked me up and threw me on the bed, sliding my pajama shorts and panties down my legs.

"You were a good girl just now. Continuing being the good girl I taught you to be" He growled before sliding his thick cock through my folds. I didn't even have time to adjust to his size before he started thrusting in and out of me. Feeling me up so good, causing me to scream his name.

"Fuck Henry" I moaned as he worked himself in and out.

"Don't cum until I tell you to. Understand that Love?" He questioned, staring me dead in the eye. I nodded pathetically, basically begging for release. Henry started rubbing my clit with his thumb.

I felt myself coming closer to my orgasm, but just as I was about to cum, Henry pulled out of me. Leaving me feeling suddenly empty.

"Why'd you do that for Hen?!" I asked angrily. He just smirked in response. "Because the only way I'm going to let you cum is by my tongue." He replied coldly.

And that was how it ended.

NOT PROOF READ!!!

Please re blog if u do like it, I really appreciate all the support

#marvel fanfiction #dc fanfic #henry cavill x yn #henry cavill #henry cavil x reader #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavill smut #lumberjack #lumberjack au #au #henry cavill au #fanfiction #kinktober day 17

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murdrdocs · 6 months

Text

finnick's world !

☼ fluff ☽ smut (17+) ☁︎ suggestive (17+) ϟ dark content (18+) full masterlist

note: fem! and gn! labels are given based on the use of pronouns and anatomy; fem! fics use 'she/her' or labels such as 'girl' as well as explicit afab anatomy, GN! has no use of gendered pronouns or labels and anatomy is ambigious

classic morning domesticity with finnick ☼ GN!

your finnick isn't the capitol's finnick ☽ GN!

finnick values his partner over everything ☼ GN!

finnick accidentally goes overboard for your birthday ☼ GN!

finnick has a praise kink ☽ GN!

finnick is a malewife ☼ GN!

finnick odair is a munch ☽ fem!

at a capitol party, finnick uses his fingers to silent you ☽ fem!

finnick siren AU ϟ GN!

finnick's love languages ☼ GN!

finnick hcs w a vigilante reader GN!

after an injury, finnick forces you to take it easy ☼ GN!

walking in on finnick masturbating ☽ GN!

overstimulating finnick ☽ GN!

being that couple with finnick ☼ GN!

slow summer days with finnick ☼ fem!

more summer days with finnick ☼ fem!

morning shower sex with finnick ☽ fem!

after a rough day in the capitol, you comfort finnick ☼ GN!

beach days with young!finnick and mags ☼ fem!

giggly makeout sessions with finnick ☼ GN!

after becoming a victor, your best friend, finnick, takes your virginity ☽ fem!

telling finnick you're pregnant ☼ fem!

"i won't bite, unless you're into that sort of thing" with finnick ☁︎ GN!

"i shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you" with finnick ☼ GN!

dad!finnick headcannons ☼ fem!

dad!finnick and your son have an arts and crafts day ☼ fem!

angry makeout sessions with finnick ☁︎ GN!

NSFW alphabet with finnick ☽ fem!

(kinktober) filming sex with finnick ☽ fem!

finnick talks you through it ☽ fem!

brief peacefulness on the beach during the 2nd quarter quell ☼ GN!

finnick has a puppy crush on you ☼ GN!

finnick and johanna sharing you ☽ fem!

finnick's babysitters hc

more finnick's babysitters hcs

finnick is an otter lover ☼ GN!

finnick likes to make sure you're watching ☼ GN!

finnick post argument hc

finnick and 'touch tank' ☁︎ fem!

finnick fucking your face ☽ fem!

pegging finnick ☽ fem!

young!dad finnick on christmas ☼

#–𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 #updated: april 17 2024.#finnicksworld!#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair masterlist #finnick odiar smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair #celeste writes thg

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mmmairon · 7 months

Note

Hi mairon! I love the self insert comfort you did it was so cute! Would you be able to make some more? Possibly diluc taking care of someone like the girl you did in the last one — maybe putting them to bed because I’m suffering w my insomnia right now 😅 if you can’t dw!

oh, to be tucked snugly into bed by Diluc Ragnvindr

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irishmammonagenda · 2 months

Text

You pout, arms crossed up against your chest, staring at your boyfriend who currently has his eyes fixated on the game on his PC, mouse and keys being clicked rapidly while the otaku sits cross legged on his desk chair, tongue sticking out in anticipation as he progresses with the battle.

You shift in the bean bag that you made yourself at home on, having long set you DDD down, finding that it had completely lost its entertainment value. Call you a spoilt brat, more millte than the ten year old's in makeup aisles at supermarkets, but you wanted your boyfriend's attention God Dammit! And you wanted it now!

The Avatar of Envy pays you no mind as he continues playing his game, having probably forgotten you were in the room. Well you had been here for hours quietly on your DDD. It was fair, you supposed, though as he starts singing the praises of a certain Ruri-chan, the only thing you could feel was your boyfriend's sin.

That seemed to remind Leviathan of your existence. You huff. He reaches a checkpoint and turns around, jumping when he sees you. "O-oh! S-sorry! M-MC...I-i forgot you were there!" He says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as his face turns a red that brings out the purple of his hair.

"You should be sorry...." You sulk, sinking further into your seat, Levi flatlines, eyes widening as he nearly falls off his own chair.

"I-I am! I just got so into the game! And you were so quiet...and I-" He rambles apology upon apology as he stumbles clumsily closer to you, finally reaching within inches of you but hesitating. Something along the lines of 'How could they want a pathetic otaku like me anywhere near them right now?!' no doubt going through his head.

You scrunch your nose up, quickly closing the distance with a soft, chaste kiss on the lips. Simple. Leviathan still flatlines, if he was an android he would've stopped working. You grin, giving him another kiss, just as soft but a little less chaste, he blubbers something in his flustered blushy state, demon form popping out. While your pretty boyfriend was normally shy, his instincts were not, while he hid his face and sparkling eyes from you in his awe, his tail wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to you, something you gladly accepted as you took Levi's hands away from his face and gave him another kiss, he might as well have been the Avatar of Greed with how greedily he was kissing you back.

Holy fuck, you love your boyfriend.

#happy (late) birthday leviathan ig!!!#its 00:16 as i posted this thats practically still the 9th of april im like 17 mins late thats practically on time #leviathan obey me #obey me drabble #i cant write leviathan at all his character is so difficult for me to write for some reason 😔✊#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me mc #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan imagines #obey me fluff

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jayujus · 2 months

Text

rent a boyfriend! - chapter 17

— 17 i know

prev | next | m.list

TAGLIST (CLOSED) @leep0ems @yyawnjun @saursoob @heerinnie @wvnkoi @heeslut4life @sunghoonnsupremacy @ramenoil @chxrlvspp @wonniestars @beommii @kwiwin @dimplewonie @eleanorheartschishiya @sunkislove @jaeyunluvr @txtlyn @aishigrey @simjyunnie @oldjws @baevsxii @sumzysworld @iamliacamila @yvrikoo @hotsforikeu @w3bqrl @jiaant11 @etherealiitty @boutyouwonu @aespaslut @nishislcve @neocockthotology @erehkinnie30 @icepshrince @26796i @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kissezfornamjoon @ghostiiess @lprww @stilesks @k1ttylvr @heeseunggirll @rikizm @kgneptun @jjunae @aerivrs @bomi-ja @dani-is-tired @ttylxox2 @i-yeseo

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wntrei · 6 days

Text

WHEN THEY HAVE CRUSH ON YOU

includes. dk, mingyu and the8 genres/warnings. fluff

m.list

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐃𝐊

➸ dokyeom, usually known for his playful energy, might fumble over his words or trip over his own feet around you. expect awkward silences punctuated by nervous giggles.

➸ he'll go out of his way to be helpful, offering to carry your things, fetching you water, or remembering your coffee order.

➸ dokyeom will shower you with compliments, but they might come out jumbled or flustered. "that shirt... it looks... really good on you... i mean, not that the others didn't... but this one..."

➸ expect cheesy jokes, playful winks, and attempts at flirting that land with a thud. he might even rehearse pick-up lines in his head that he forgets entirely when you're near.

➸ during group activities, dokyeom might get a little flustered if you're on the same team. expect playful teasing from the other members who notice his sudden dips in coordination or his attempts to impress you with (slightly exaggerated) skills.

➸ dokyeom loves karaoke, but his song choices might take a turn. belting out love ballads with lingering eye contact? that's his way of expressing his feelings without having to directly confess.

➸ dokyeom might set you up with hypothetical scenarios, subtly trying to gauge your interest in dating.

➸ if you initiate physical contact, even a simple touch on the arm, expect dokyeom to turn into a blushing mess. he might stammer or become unusually shy, his sunshine smile momentarily replaced by bashfulness.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔

➸ making eye contact with you sends a blush creeping up his neck. a simple compliment leaves him stuttering and fumbling over his words.

➸ he tries, oh so hard, to act cool and collected. this usually translates to playful nudges, goofy grins, and an arsenal of cheesy jokes that land with a soft thud.

➸ suddenly, mingyu is everywhere you are. for example - at lunch, he ‘just happens’ to be walking by when you're looking for a seat.

➸ mingyu tunes into your every word. he remembers your favorite things, your favorite snacks, and that you like taking the long way home because of the view.

➸ mingyu showers you with compliments, but they're disguised as casual observations. he'll point out how your outfit ‘looks really cool’ (and totally means it) or how you ‘aced that presentation’ (and is genuinely impressed).

➸ mingyu transforms into your own personal knight in shining armor. struggling to carry your heavy books? he's there to swoop in and offer help. need clarification on a problem? he's suddenly a math whiz.

➸ mingyu resorts to playful teasing to get your attention and gauge your interest. expect gentle nudges, funny nicknames, and maybe even a harmless prank or two. it's his way of breaking the ice and making you laugh.

➸ mingyu subtly tries to impress you with his talents. catching him singing or rapping along to his headphones a little too loudly? it's not an accident. he’s definitely not trying to show off his skills.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝟖

➸ minghao, usually graceful and composed, might stumble over his words or fidget slightly when you're around. he might brush his hair more often or straighten his clothes subconsciously.

➸ minghao might ‘accidentally’ bump into you in the hallway, brush your hand as he reaches for something, or linger a touch too long during a high five.

➸ sometimes, seeing you flusters him so much he avoids you altogether. you might catch him disappearing around corners just before you bump into him, or his replies to your messages become curt and delayed.

➸ minghao can't help but steal glances at you whenever he thinks you aren't looking. he observes your habits like, the way your laugh lines crinkle around your eyes, or how you absentmindedly twirl a strand of hair.

➸ minghao pours his emotions into his music. pay close attention to his new creations – there might be a hidden melody or a meaningful lyric that whispers your name.

➸ the8, usually reserved, becomes a bundle of nervous energy around you. he fidgets with his clothes, stumbles over his words, and laughs a little too loudly at your jokes, desperately trying to impress you.

➸ minghao might leave small gifts on your desk – a new notebook, a cup of your favorite coffee, a book he thinks you'd like. these gifts are a way for him to express his feelings without words.

➸ minghao starts rearranging his schedule to mysteriously coincide with yours. "oh, hey, what a coincidence! i was just heading that way too," he might say, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

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ctheathy · 4 months

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Yandere Changelings w/ human!Darling

The Changelings x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author's note: Gotta love these big buggo babies

reformed Changelings < unreformed Changelings

The Changelings/Reader [Platonic+Romantic-ish?]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

The Reader is quite humble • Abduction • Jealousy between changelings • Stalking • Invasion of privacy • Co-dependency • Aggression • Use of adhesive/the green goo • Violence • Possessiveness • Overprotective behaviour • Predatory behaviour • Love feeding • Overfeeding/“Overdosing” on love • Heart failure • Corpses of changelings mentioned

Changelings have certainly never had a very positive reputation around Equestria. The species of bug-like creatures mainly known to have ruthless mannerisms that only acts on instinct. Especially when considering the changelings eat love and love alone to keep them from starving. As you can see... These creatures, too, need to feed. And so steal the love hidden within ponies and other living entities for themselves with brute force. And this tiny human here... has love, and a lot of it.

But despite being an aggressive species, they are also known to be rather curious towards creatures they've never seen or heard of before. Which is why being a human is really just a saving grace for you in this scenario. Cause instead of pouncing immediately purely from starving impulse, they know they'd need information to report back to the Queen first. And since this is the first human the changelings have ever met, their natural reaction to encountering a new species is to learn more about it instead of feeding off of it, atleast not before they got all the answers they'd be satisfied with. Considering you are the only source of love and affection around.

The first changelings that have noticed your presence may start seeing you as a tasty morsel. if love is like meat for them, then they're being deprived of it, and then the one creature comes along that's a walking talking buffet of love. They'd observe your actions and behaviours from a safe distance for a little while, taking note of aggression signs or being a potential threat to the hive. But in truth... you weren't. You were more of a lover than a fighter, which gave the changelings the signal to not waste any other opportunity to abduct you into the hive for some answers.

And that's... when something sparked.

Being calm and sedate in your position would usually cease a changelings’ natural instinct to hunt and would often cause in less aggression and forceful measurements. But even if they did try feeding from your love, that would be similar to essentially trying to suck from a dry well, because the transporting process from the human realm to Equestria drained you of many strong emotions to begin with, and it takes a lot more time for your entire alternation from universe to universe to take full effect. And the changelings wouldn't budge from their stubbornness until you reached out to one of them... Brushing a gentle hand over its malnourished frame.

The love that you'd contain would be a tad bit ‘different’ from normal love they'd consume, mainly due to the fact that they never had to actually take it with force. You gave it to them willingly, making the love inserted into them a lot stronger and effective than if they were to steal it. Which results in giving their bodies an intense emotional ‘shock’ as you basically feed them little by little... The shock would still feel good to them, like it would make them feel warm and light headed, but their heart would begin beating rapidly by the shot of immense adrenaline they just got.

The reason why changelings need love and affection in the first place was because they need it for their survival. The value feeds them. As they learn you're capable of feeling and giving love, they would want to keep you around permanently to feed. However, in extreme cases it might lead to a changeling becoming dependent upon one person's love. And their survival might be based on that person's love and affection. and what happens when that person's love and affection starts to falter? There is such a darker side to something so innocent as eating some consensual love.

Which could go either two ways...

Plan A being a bit more complicated. Since they ended up taking a ‘sample’ of you to basically extract the hormones and emotions of love, you had proven yourself to be more productive than all of the ponies they've held captive combined. Feeling more satisfied with the mere sip of love you've happily handed out to them than with any usual prey they had ripped the love from. But the Queen desires love too, because it is essential for their race. And because the hive is almost completely devoid of any love in the first place. You could become a sample for the Queen... Just keeping you there and farm you for love.

But there's also a considerable chance the changelings who captured you would scrap plan A and would instead focus on a plan B... Keep you a secret from Queen Chrysalis and prevent you from being cocooned at all costs, but only under the condition if you keep blindly feeding them with your lovey-dovey personality. Changelings tend to function with a very strict hive mentality... conclusions are set by the swarm's majority of drones’ standpoint. They all have a strong tendency to fall for group decision-making, but they're also quick to swap their beliefs if it seems like the right choice for the best of the colony. So it likely wouldn't even take long for the entire swarm to come to an agreement to keep you secured under high protection and warding.

Due to being a good source, you would give them more positive energy than any other creature who would falter in their fright after being captured... which would make you a rather popular target for the swarm of drones. To a point where the entire hive would start to view you as the "heart of the colony" of sorts. Because a changelings emotions are based on their diet. And the more love they receive, the more addicted and obsessed they'll become with it. So they would all be head over heels at some point, bordering on complete worship ...viewing you as an object of their affection and admiration. And getting even more physically violent to defend and protect you from what they consider a threat to their food source.

They might be feeding off of the love you give them and emotional positivity for now. But if they keep feeding and feeding, eventually they are probably going to want something else than just your emotions, which isn't good... But at the end of it all, they will want to protect you. But their methods might be a bit morally questionable. They have been looking for a more ‘sustaining’ source of love their entire lives. And from what we know... love only grows stronger.

So what happens when a creature becomes utterly emotionally dependant on someone?

What if... they begin to get obsessive?

Instead deciding to ensure no one else gets to have you?

Signs of attacks outside of the hive would become more apparent as time went on, a variety of breeds beginning to disappear aside with half dead creatures covered in adhesive emerging from their hideout as no entity even dares to get close to the shapeshifters. Some changelings would begin arguing with eachother over the delightful taste of your love. But knowing how naturally greedy and hostile they can get, these would convert to physical violence sooner or later, causing a bunch of internal conflict in the colony. A bunch of love starved changelings just riskily fighting over a single human.

It would get so bad, in fact, that there's possibly not even second you'll spend in the hive without a changeling being nearby, just ... watching you. With or without you knowing, there to strike and pull you back in at a moments notice if your demeanor gets too close to flight response. The changeling that you first bonded with would feel remorse about doing it, but the rest of them won't really care much as long as they can keep you in their grasp. Though you would still be allowed to travel closely outside of the hive, they'll keep their little eyes on you anyway...

You'd have this love that's a bit diluted, but even with just having a weaker type of love to feed off of, they'd have to feed for a longer time and drain their energy in order to get it. Which in terms causes in them taking more than they can physically handle. You aren't necessarily a dry well, but rather more of a dripping faucet while they are all dying of thirst. So they could still eat from your given love for a while, but if they try to go all out, there could be horrific consequences...

Because each of them are essentially trying to take enough to survive, their individual feeding sessions can become more aggressive. They don't want to kill you, nor do they understand how strong of a heart you have. So they don't see that they need to be gentle. Because in their eyes, you're considered weaker as a mortal. And your emotions, not being very strong, make their hearts race and they aren't feeding slowly and cautiously enough to keep the heart beating at its normal pace. You're basically a complete reverse card on them. To the point of them becoming so infatuated with you, that they literally forget what they are doing, and basically, accidentally kill themselves with a massive case of overdosing love.

The more of your love they take, the more they will like you. And the more they like you, the more they would try to suck it out. And the more they try to suck it out, the more it would turn into a "want" instead of something more natural. And then, that's when some would begin to die from overfeeding. The emotional shock and overdosing on love being much more overwhelming than the changeling's bodies are capable of handling. And of course, you wouldn't really understand why they were all suddenly lifelessly scattered around you...

It would be quite a challenge for many changelings to have the self control to prevent that fate. I doubt the majority of them would even understand the concept of death enough to avoid it even when their heart rate was going at unsafe speeds. The situation would honestly be safe for the changelings that have enough self-control to hold themselves back, but those who don't would become history real quick... Especially as changelings mainly seem to cocoon their prey. You may have more love to give when you're out in the open, but perhaps you even walking freely might just be enough to push many changelings over the edge.

Though this would also highly depend on the distinct personality of each changeling. Those who were more reasonable would try to just suckle in love. Then we have those who would become a bit feral and aggressive trying to tear the love out of you. Making it like a really twisted irony that they want love, but by trying to obtain love, in this way, they could essentially doom themselves. The ones who are more in control and more disciplined may survive. But either the greedier or younger, more immature changelings might get too excited and just want more and more. Which leads into them destroying their bodies via the very thing they wanted. The ones that do manage to control themselves will remain very interested in you however. But even if their fair sense of attachment and perhaps even bond towards you won't fade...

This is nothing more and nothing less than a parasitic relationship

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holylulusworld · 1 month

Text

Indecent Proposal (17)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, candy theft, polyamory

Indecent Proposal (16)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Two months after Bucky and Steve found out about Rumlow’s plan to get information about them using the nurse, said man disappeared.

No one cared about Brock Rumlow's disappearance. One day, he left town and never got seen again.

People may think Steve and Bucky took care of the annoying thorn in their flesh, but the truth is that they didn’t touch one hair on his head.

“Still nothing?” Bucky watches Natasha stuff the money he brought to her into her bag. Another good investment for the mobster, money for her retirement to Natasha. “Be honest, Nat. Did you take care of him?”

“I told Rumlow that his little stunt with the nurse went too far. He had the order to stay away from your…” she wrinkles her forehead still not understanding your relationship with the mobsters. “Fiancé.”

“We didn’t kill him,” Steve pushes off the wall to look at the pictures on Natasha’s desk. “Even though, we planned on taking him down. Rumlow had it coming.”

Natasha frowns deeply. “If none of us took him down… What happened to him? This doesn’t make sense at all.”

“What if he fucked with the wrong people over?” Bucky scratches his scruffy chin, wondering if the man obsessed with him and Steve annoyed the wrong person. “We can’t be the only people he messed with.”

“I don’t know,” Natasha sighs and rubs her tired eyes. “He’s a good cop.” She rolls her eyes when Steve makes a retching noise. “Believe it or not, he’s not a complete psycho. Rumlow is good at his job. I don’t know what you did to make him lose his mind.”

“We did shit to your little buddy,” Steve grunts. “If someone made him disappear, I owe him one. This way, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.”

“This must be very funny to you, Rogers,” Natasha wrinkles her nose. “He was a good man and a good cop. It’s too bad he got lost in your web.”

“We didn’t lure him in,” Bucky snaps at Natasha. He glares at her, making sure she knows they did come here to chat. “One day your friend decided he must bring me and Steve down. Does he even know that we maintain peace? No one dares to harm citizens since we took over the throne.”

“I get it,” she huffs. “You are the kings of your kingdom of shit.”

“Careful—” Steve snarls at the redhead. “Our fathers build this kingdom with blood and terror,” the blonde steps closer to Natasha, sizing her up. “Bucky and I changed the old ways. We took their empire and changed it for the better.”

“What do we do about Rumlow now? If he’s dead, people will start asking questions. It’s no secret that he was obsessed with us.”

“I will try to keep you out of this,” Natasha steps away from Steve. She doesn’t want to rile him up even more.

“You’ll keep us up to date,” Steve points his index finger at the redhead. “We need to know every detail of his disappearance…”

“Doll, what are you doing,” Steve laughs. You threatened to cut Bucky’s cock off because he dared to steal a chocolate bar from your secret stash.

“He stole from me!” You pout. “Bucky stole my favorite chocolate bar. It was the last one with hazelnut.” Faking a sob, you look at Steve. “You should scold him.”

“I was hungry after you wanted a taste of Bucky,” the brunette grins. “And you got a whole drawer filled with the sweets. Candies, chocolate bars, all the good stuff. Steve, she’s got a sweet tooth.”

“Not only a sweet tooth,” Steve smirks. “She’s a naughty little minx too.”

“Hey! I’m not little,” you kneel on the bed to glare at Steve. Not months ago, you trembled in fear in front of Steve, and now you talk back and tease the mobster. “You better watch your tongue, or I won’t show you the latest ultrasound picture!”

Bucky watches you and his husband bicker. He smirks and chuckles. The brunette leans back and enjoys the show. “Steve, she’s getting cocky. What will you do about it?”

Steve cocks a brow. His features darken and he smirks at you. “I will spank her cute ass if she gets even cockier.”

You laugh at Steve’s words. He wouldn’t dare put his hands on you. Both men are deadly and strong, but with you, they are soft and gentle. Even if you are a brat and a needy slut sometimes.

“The doctor will be here in half an hour,” Bucky stretches his legs and yawns. It was a long day. Jensen and Bucky tried to find out more about Rumlow’s disappearance over the last hours. “Let’s not fight over stolen candy.”

“I did not forget you stole from my stash, punk!” You poke your index finger into Bucky’s thigh. “You are on thin ice, Sir.”

“Sir, huh?” Bucky licks his lips. “Steve, how long until the doctor arrives.” He looks at his husband.

“Buck. No,” Steve shakes his head. “Last time the doctor almost caught us red-handed.”

“Hmmm…good times,” you nod and sigh dreamily. “Very good times.”

“Your fiancé is healthy,” the doctor murmurs while scribbling down a few notes, “everything looks good. There is nothing to be worried about.” He looks up from his notes. “We should talk about the results of the ultrasound we took today now.”

He clears his throat and looks at you. The elderly man gives you a soft smile. “Can I tell them?”

The doctor chuckles now. “Of course, my dear.”

“Alright,” you clap your hands before grinning at Steve. “I will blow your mind.”

“Please tell me she’s not pregnant with a Tasmanian devil,” Steve mirrors your smirk. “I bet she is. It would explain her bratty behavior.”

“Stevie, let Y/N talk. I wanna know what she wants to talk about,” Bucky grabs your hand. Anytime you have an ultrasound examination he turns into a softie. “Go ahead doll. We are listening.”

You take a deep breath. Suddenly you’re a little nervous. “I-doctor can you tell them?” You chicken out and drop your gaze.

“Fuck! Is something wrong with the baby?” Steve presses one hand to his heart. “Please tell us.”

“Doll…” Bucky holds your hand a little tighter. The usual tough man looks helplessly at his husband. “Stevie?”

“The baby and your fiancé are healthy,” the doctor hastily says. “We got no bad news for you. It’s rather, good news for you and your fiancé, gentlemen.”

“Good news,” Bucky nods at Steve. “Did you hear…good news. Phew.” He sighs deeply. “Thank fuck.”

“What is the good news?” Steve rumbles. He stares at your swollen belly, awaiting an answer. “Doctor?”

You take a deep breath and look at both men. You don’t know if the news is good to them or not. “We—we are having twins!”

Part 17.2

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky x reader #pregnant reader #stucky x fem #stucky x female reader #female reader #stucky x y #Indecent Proposal (17)

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 8 months

Text

Imagine Shanks teaching you how to use a sword part 2

FYI, in case it wasn't obvious, IDK anything about fencing, or swords fighting other than the point bit goes in the other feller.

Shanks: Can I offer you a piece of advice?

You: Sure.

Shanks: I think you'd benefit from widening your stance, it'd enable you to move around easier, especially since you like to use your weight to throw your opponent off balance.

You: Like this? *Shifts your feet apart*

Shanks: No, like this *grabs your hip, and kicks your legs further apart* Now try a few moves.

You: *tries to focus on your sword, but can't because he's kneading your skin*

Shanks: No, no, you're far too stiff * Pulls you against his chest, leaning over you slightly to guide your hands in a fluid motion* See, you keep locking up your elbows at the wrong time.

You: Okay, so like this? *Steps away from him and goes through the motions*

Shanks: Perfect, *Ruffles your hair* wanna try it against me?

You: *Has to deliver a message to Whitebeard* Alright, that's the message, I'll skedaddle now.

Whitebeard: Is that what you think? That I'll let you go, just like that?

You: *nods with confidence* Yep, just like that.

Whitebeard: Gurararara! No, but I'm glad to see Shanks sent me such an interesting crewmate. *Reaches for you*

You: *pulls your sword* Don't touch me!

Whitebeard: Oh, you think you can take me, little one?

You: Seeing as I just started learning two weeks ago, and I've never seen real combat? No.

Whitebeard: Gurararara!, then you're not a threat at all.

You: No. *lowers your sword* But I really don't like being touched by people I don't know.

Whitebeard: That's fair and fine... Who's been teaching you then?

You: Shanks.

Whitebeard: Shanks really? He's never taken a student before.

You: He says I've got natural talent, but I believe he was just trying to be nice.... or get into my pants, I can't tell.

Marco: It's always a bit hard to tell with him.

You: tell me about it, one minute he's grabbing my hips and the next he's ruffling my hair and treating me like a kid. It's very confusing.

Marco: He's the King of mixed signals.

You: Tell me about it.

Whitebeard: Listen, I'm bored and itching for a good fight, so I'm going to hold you here to draw Shanks here. But while you are here how about my boys and I give you a few lessons and help you with your training.

You: Do I have a choice?

Whitebeard: uh-uh

You: fine then, but I want a room to myself.

Whitebeard: I'll have a guest room prepared for you, but let's figure out your skill level in the meantime?

You: uh, sure I guess.

Whitebeard: Ace, get em

Ace: *Jumps at you with his swords from one of the sail yards*

You: *shrieks like a lunatic as you evade his rapid attacks*

Whitebeard: Good good, you're really light on your feet for a rookie.... st-... Stop running away and fight!

List of Up-and-coming works

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #shanks #shanks x reader #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #red haired shanks #whitebeard #edward newgate #portgas d ace #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #whitebeard pirates #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #9/17/23 #no beta we die like men

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python333 · 9 months

Note

hi! i’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but if you aren’t feel free to ignore this!

anyways, i was thinking what would it be like if you were back on base and did something nice for everyone and made their fave coffee/tea while you’re all relaxing after a long mission? like how would the 141 react and what would you make for them?

that’s all but i hope you have a great day and i absolutely love your writings!! they seriously are so detailed and amazing, you do a beautiful job w each one💌

unwind — python333

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synopsis the 141 + you are back from a super long mission and u make them their fave coffee/tea!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

word count 3.6k

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], gaz being a little shit.

note thank you so much for the req!! i am taking them right now, but apologies if i post them 2+ days after i get them, my writers block is slowly creeping back into my mind and im fighting it off the best i can! also, thank you for the compliments :3 ilysm youre too nice!! i saw ur reblog of bedbound too and i was so sjdfksdfks!! hope u have a good day too and hope you enjoy this fic, it's all fluff and way too in depth descriptions of making tea/coffee!!

As soon as the electric kettle clicks, signaling to you that the water inside of it has been boiled, you unplug it and pour the water into a mug you’d pulled from the cabinets. It still surprised you that there were any mugs left, with how many people kept stealing to put on their desk to hold pencils—by people, you mean Soap, and only Soap—but you weren’t complaining.

You set the kettle back down once the mug is filled up just an inch below the brim and grab the tea bag you’d grabbed earlier, wrapping the string around the handle of the mug a few times before putting the bag itself into the water. Almost immediately, you see small tendrils of dark brown flow out from the drowned tea bag into the originally clear water.

As that happens, you walk the small few steps over to the small fridge from the kettle and open it, grabbing the small carton of cream and closing the fridge shut. You walk back over to the mug and unscrew the cap of the carton, pouring some cream into the mug, adding a half inch of height to the liquid already in the mug before screwing the cap back on and setting the carton down.

You don’t bother to grab a spoon and mix anything yet, instead reaching over to the small terracotta container beside the coffee machine that contained sugar, and taking off the lid.

You think for a moment if you should grab a spoon for this, but ultimately decide against it, instead just tipping the container over the mug and letting what you hope is two teaspoons of sugar spill over into the mug.

Afterwards, you put the lid back on the container holding the sugar and set it back next to the coffee machine, and grab the cream to put back into the fridge.

Once the cream’s been put back, you open the drawers in the counter and grab a small spoon, one that’s just tall enough that it won’t be fully submerged in the tea, and put it into the mug.

You close the drawer and give the tea a few stirs before picking up the mug, being careful of the scalding heat and holding it solely by its handle. You carefully walk out of the snack bar extension of the kitchen and head towards Price’s office.

After a year or two of working with him, you’ve learned a lot about his tea preferences—he likes Yorkshire tea, the original one, not the gold. He only likes cream and sugar in his coffee, just to make it smoother and make it a bit sweeter, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

You vaguely remember him telling you he’d never had honey or any other sweeteners besides a bit of sugar in his tea, and remember more vividly you thinking, God, that’s such an old person thing to say, but not saying it out loud.

Once you’ve reached his office, you knock a few times and Price’s tired voice calls out, “Come in!”

You open the door, careful to keep the mug from spilling in your hands, and walk in, closing the door behind you. Price looks up from his computer, presumably writing a report on the mission you’d all just come back from an hour or two ago, and offers a small smile when he sees you. He’s about to say something before he catches sight of the mug in your hands.

“Did you…” He doesn’t finish his question, but you know what he was about to ask, and you nod in response.

“If it’s too sugary let me know,” You tell him, setting the mug down a safe distance away from his computer, “I can remake it.”

“I won’t make you remake it,” Price looks at you, almost offended, “You didn’t have to make me anything in the first place, but thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You hum, walking away, saying over your shoulder, “Hope you like it.”

You open the door without another word and walk out, closing it behind you, heading right back to the snack bar. Now for Soap.

Soap typically preferred coffee to tea, despite tea’s popularity in Scotland. He’d told you that he really couldn’t taste the difference between different coffee blends, but upon hearing that there was a Scottish blend, he declared he’d only drink that one, because of course he did.

He pretended he could tell if the coffee he was drinking was of that Scottish blend, but you knew he couldn’t. How did you know? You’d only ever given him Scottish roast once. Every other time since then, it’s been French roast.

He’s never really used a coffee machine for himself, going to cafes or coffee shops most of the time for coffee, keeping his usual coffee order written in his notes app because he couldn’t remember it for the life of him.

He’d sometimes modify his order if certain coffee shops didn’t do certain things that he usually got, but his order stays mostly the same every time he gets coffee. Medium (or grande, if he’s at Starbucks) latte with a double shot of espresso.

Typically, he’d get some shortbread too, but you didn’t really have any in the base, so he’d have to do without it today.

Once you enter the snack bar, you grab another mug from the cabinets above the counter and place it under the coffee machine. You open the cabinets right by the ones that contained the mugs and grab a bag of ground French roast, pulling it out and putting it on the counter.

You open it up and find that there’s conveniently already a small cup in there to scoop the coffee grounds up, and use your free hand to grab a new coffee filter from the same cabinets you got the coffee grounds from, swiftly putting it into the machine.

You use your other hand to scoop up some coffee grounds and put them into the filter, closing the top of the coffee machine afterwards and turning on the machine. You’re grateful there’s more options listed on the small digital screen that lights up on the machine than just plain black coffee, not really in the mood to try and steam milk right now.

You tap on the ‘latte’ option and watch as the screen changes and hear the coffee machine start to whir.

As it does that, you put away the coffee grounds and open up the cabinets that contained mugs once again, pulling out a small espresso glass and setting it onto the counter.

You wait patiently for the coffee to brew, and once you hear the small beep sound from the machine that signals that it’s done, you pull away the steaming hot coffee and set it down right next to the coffee machine.

You quickly put the espresso glass under the machine and start it up again, this time tapping the ‘espresso shot’ option—surprised that’s even an option, honestly—and hearing the familiar whirring noise start up again. It doesn’t take nearly as long as brewing the latte did, the small beep coming much sooner than it did just a minute or two earlier, and you pull away the small espresso glass from the machine almost immediately after you hear it.

You pause for a moment, looking at how much the latte part had filled up the mug, and look around for a moment before opening up the same drawer that contains the eating utensils and grabbing a straw, putting the straw in the still hot latte—is that a good idea? No. Did you do it anyway because you physically can’t think before you act? Absolutely—and taking a long sip of it.

You pull the straw out once the liquid in the mug is at a good inch below the brim and then pour in the espresso shot, setting the glass down after you do so.

You look around for a second for a trash bin and find one just a few steps away from you, quickly throwing out the straw you’d used and then walking back over to the empty espresso glass, picking it up and setting it down by the sink. God forbid we get a dishwasher in here or something, You think absentmindedly as you pick up the mug and carefully walk out of the snack bar with it, Would it hurt to at least get some dish soap in here or something?

You make it out of the snack bar without burning your fingers and start the much longer walk to Soap’s sleeping quarters. You’d caught him walking out of his office in that direction earlier, so you can only assume that he’d gone there.

Once you make it there, you knock on the door a few times and wait for Soap to call out to you and allow you to come in before twisting the door knob and opening the door. He’s laying on his back on his bed, thumb paused on his phone screen as he looks over at you as you enter. He notices the coffee and sits up a bit, grunting as he does.

He wasn’t really as talkative after long missions like the one you’d all been on earlier—usually it took him a day or two to be more social and back to himself, so you didn’t take much offense to him not greeting you as loudly as he usually did.

He nods at the coffee, “Is that for me?”

“Mhm,” You hum, handing him the mug, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“Got it,” Soap carefully takes the mug into his hands, and softly blows on it before looking at you again and grinning at you, “Weel, thank ye for this. Ye really didnae hae tae.”

“Price actually said the same thing,” You muse, almost to yourself, before speaking a little louder, “No problem.”

“Oh did he?” Soap asks, raising an eyebrow, before his expression shifts and he feigns confusion, “Wait, how come he got a drink afore me?”

“Because his office was closer to the snack bar,” You explain, crossing your arms.

“… Nae, it’s definitely ‘cause ye hate me,” Soap disagrees, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “And tae think I thought we were friends.”

“It is no— you know what?” You begin to argue, before sighing and rolling your eyes, “I do hate you, and we were never friends, you ungrateful piece of shit.”

Soap laughs, quieter than he usually does but it’s still a genuine laugh. He looks down at the coffee again and back at you, before saying, “Thank ye. Again.”

“No problem,” You replied, walking back towards the door and opening it, walking out of Soap’s sleeping quarters and closing the door behind you. Now for Ghost.

Ghost typically liked tea more than coffee, but you think that’s just the British in him talking. Realistically, you could give him either or, and he’d say a polite ‘thank you’ and move on.

From years of being apart of the 141, any preferences or additives he liked to put in his tea or coffee slowly dissipated and instead he just drank either one plain. Which should make the tasks you’ve forced yourself to do today easier, but knowing you, you just couldn’t take the easy route with this.

You remember a conversation with him that happened several months ago where you had been talking about your own tea and coffee preferences. Ghost had commented that he didn’t often put any additives in his own hot drinks anymore, but back before he’d joined the military, he liked to drink keemun tea occasionally with nutmeg in it.

Keemun tea—which was fucking expensive by the way, costing around sixteen pounds for twenty tea bags in every store you could find them in—wasn’t too hard to find, so the next time you went on leave after that conversation, you’d bought a box of bags of keemun tea leaves and some ground nutmeg.

You didn’t let Ghost know about it, and kind of forgot about it just a week after you bought it, but now the memory of you buying it and storing it in the snack bar behind a few other boxes of tea bags has resurfaced and it’s the only thing you think is appropriate to give Ghost at a time like this.

You get back to the snack bar and almost robotically you pull a mug out from the cabinets above the counter and set it down on said counter, deciding to grab another one just so that you wouldn’t have to do it later, and setting that one down right next to the other. You open the cabinet beside that and move some of the boxes out of the way to find the keemun tea box in the very back, right where you last left it.

You snatch it out of the cabinet and open it, pulling out a small packet and opening it up to pull out the tea bag inside. You go ahead and put the tea bag inside of the mug and put the tea box back in the cabinet, closing the small cabinet door afterwards.

You then grab the electric kettle that’s right by the sink and pop open the lid, putting it under the faucet and turning said faucet on, waiting until the water fills a quarter of the kettle. Once it does, you turn off the faucet and put the kettle down right by the outlet on the wall.

You put the lid down and wait for it to click into place before you plug the kettle into the outlet and press the small button below the handle to turn it on, and listen as it starts to make a small whirring noise. You don’t waste too much time just standing there, waiting for the water to finish boiling, instead putting the other mug you’d pulled out from the cabinets under the coffee machine and turning it on.

You tap on the ‘decaf flat white’ option and watch the digital screen change and another whirring sound starts up, now coming from the coffee machine.

You were starting to make Gaz’s while making Ghost’s drink because Gaz often made the mistake of drinking his coffee before it was cool enough to not burn his tongue, so if you made it earlier, it’d have more time to cool, and Gaz wouldn’t have to wait as long before drinking it, therefore solving the whole ‘burning-his-tongue-because-he’s-impatient’ problem he has.

Gaz liked simple flat whites, and sure, he liked tea too, but nothing could top a good flat white for him. He’d get them anywhere and everywhere he can, and you honestly admire his dedication to getting a flat white everywhere he goes.

The coffee machine finished up quickly, a small beep sounding from the machine as it stopped its whirring and a few more drops of coffee made it into the mug before it completely stopped. You pull the mug out from under the machine and set it aside for now, just waiting for the water to finish boiling in the kettle.

Once the kettle clicks and the whirring from that machine stops, you unplug it and pour some water into the empty mug you’d picked out for Ghost, waiting until it’s filled up about a half inch below the brim of the mug before taking the kettle away from the mug and pouring the rest of the unused water into the sink.

You set the kettle down beside the coffee machine where it belongs and check the drawer below the one that held the eating utensils, looking through some of the spices and drink additives in it before finally finding the ground nutmeg you needed.

You unscrew the cap and tilt the small spice jar over the mug, letting some of the powder spill into the mug before tilting it back and screwing the cap back on. You put it back in its spot and close that drawer, now opening the drawer above it and grabbing a small spoon, closing that one after you’ve grabbed the spoon and putting the spoon into the mug to mix the spices in it around a bit.

You leave Gaz’s mug on the counter, hoping that nobody steals it while you’re away, and instead pick up the mug meant for Ghost, carefully walking out of the snack bar with it.

Ghost’s office is fairly far away, but you still manage to get there without burning your fingers or anything on the mug. You knock on the door a few times and wait for Ghost to call out permission for you to come in before you open the door and walk in.

Ghost immediately looks over at you and spots the mug in your hand, but ignores it for now, instead opting to ask, “Did you need something, [c/n]?”

“Not really,” You shrugged the best you could while holding scalding hot tea, “Just needed to give you this.”

You set the mug down on Ghost’s desk before he can say another word, and watch as he eyes the mug with curiosity and confusion.

“What’s this?” He asks, carefully picking up the mug, holding the top up to his nose to smell it. Before you can answer his question, you see his eyes widen and he questions a little louder, “Is this… keemun? With nutmeg?”

“You can tell just from the smell?” You ask, mildly impressed, watching as Ghost’s gaze turns into one more in awe of the mug.

“Yes, I can,” He mumbles, smelling the brim of the mug again, before looking over at you, “How did you know I liked keemun with nutmeg in it?”

“You told me about it, like, a few months ago. Six months ago, maybe? I dunno.”

“How do you remember a conversation from six months ago?”

“It was an important conversation, I guess?” You shrug, crossing your arms.

You watch in silence as Ghost eyes the tea and you take that as your sign to leave, walking towards the door, stopping right in front of it to twist the knob to open it before you’re interrupted by Ghost.

“Wait—” You turn your head and look at him over your shoulder, and immediately upon seeing his face, you think, oh my God is he tearing up? “Thank you, [c/n]. I really appreciate it.”

You offer a small smile and reply, “Yeah, no problem. Enjoy your tea.”

You open the door without another word and close it behind you, taking a deep breath before continuing down the hall back to the snack bar.

You’re relieved when you get there and see the mug, still steaming a bit, still on the counter. You quickly walk over to it and pick it up, walking right back out the door with it and heading straight for Gaz’s sleeping quarters. You remember him being so tired from the mission—you don’t know whether to hope he’s asleep and getting some rest, or to hope that he’s awake so you can properly hand him his coffee.

Once you make it to his sleeping quarters, you knock on the door, and there’s no response for a few moments, making you think he might actually be asleep, but then you hear Gaz’s drowsy voice call out, “You can come in!”

You open the door and see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting up on his bed, looking over at you. His lips twitch up into a small smile once he sees you and he lets his hand drop into his lap.

“Hey, [c/n].” He looks over at the mug you’ve brought with you, before raising an eyebrow, “You brought something for me?”

“Very bold of you to assume it’s for you,” You close the door behind you and walk closer to him, “But yes, it is.”

Gaz perks up a bit at that and happily takes the mug off of your hands once you hand it to him, and his smile grows significantly bigger once he sees you’ve brought him a flat white.

“It’s decaf, don’t worry,” You say, as if reading his mind, “I figured you’d still want some sleep after drinking it.”

“Always so considerate,” Gaz sighs teasingly, raising the mug to his lips like you’d thought he would. Thankfully, his tongue doesn’t burn this time after he sips the coffee, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the fact.

“You know me,” You respond dryly, crossing your arms as you watch Gaz take a few more sips of the coffee.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” Gaz thanks you, taking another sip of the coffee before stating, “I hope you know you’re my favorite now.”

“Your favorite what?”

“Just my favorite, in general,” Gaz hums, “This is the best flat white I’ve ever drunk. Ten out of ten.”

“Thanks,” You thank him flatly, “It was made with love and a coffee machine I learned how to use yesterday.”

“I can just taste the love in it.”

“Not the coffee machine?”

“Well, it’s a bit concerning if someone can taste the coffee machine in their coffee, innit?” Gaz raises an eyebrow at you before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Not if it’s the one I used.”

“Whatever you say,” Gaz mutters, taking yet another sip of his coffee, making you huff out a small laugh.

“You enjoy your coffee,” You say before walking back over to the door, closing the door behind you as you walk out and letting out a tired breath, starting to head back to your own sleeping quarters.

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