#and rubbing my ears cant hurt to try lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agape-bakery · 3 years

Note

ah, may i please request the brothers with an MC who was summoned without their glasses, but just? didnt say anything?? and after an absurd amount of time (like a month or two) they're just like "oh, yeah i need glasses i cant rlly see anything lmao"

with a GN or male mc please :)

thank you, have a wonderful day! -🐱

Me in about 3 years- This was pretty difficult to do so it took me so long to finish and it still ended up shorter than I wanted it to be, so sorry about that anon!

Would like to give a small reminder that this is not how the brothers would react canonically, especially for Belphie's scenario!

The Brothers with an MC who needs glasses

Lucifer

He thought you were making a poor attempt to be intimidating in the beginning by how hard you were squinting whenever you look around

He then thought that you needed glasses but by the way you didn't say anything, he assumed that was not the case

During the month, Lucifer is CONVINCED that you needed glasses

He's the Avatar of Pride but he's not that prideful about glasses....kind of-

After weeks of watching you rub your eyes and squint, he finally decided to ask if you needed glasses

Your eyes light up and you quickly nod and then go, "I actually forgot to told you I need glasses lol-"

....

WHAT

Lucifer would stare down at you with the most wide-eyed confused look he has ever given someone in his whole life

"MC, what do you mean you forgot?"

"I just forgot!"

Lucifer would take a long sigh before shaking his head, while he's exasperated, it's better late than never

Even if he acts annoyed, he'd still buy you some glasses as a gift

He now has more reasons to believe his gut, especially when it comes to you

Mammon

He most likely wears those sunglasses not because he thought it was cool but because his eyes are blurry from staring at his phone all the time-

As he was a demon, he didn't need to use it all the time

But when he saw you squinting, he was already in front of you with his hand up, smirking like he didn't experience the same thing in the past

"I saw you squinting, MC, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Haha, real funny."

You completely forgot to tell him that you actually did need glasses and moved on with your day

The longer you did that, the more Mammon grew concerned, is this a habit??? Are you fucking with him just because he asked you how many fingers he was holding up??

When he finally confronted you after psyching himself in front of his mirror:

"MC, do you really need glasses??"

"Oh yeah, I was supposed to tell you that a month ago but I forgot."

"WHO FORGETS ABOUT NEEDING GLASSES? IT'S LITERALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU-"

Don't worry, if you mention wanting the same glasses as his but with your prescription, Mammon would leave it aside to look for a matching pair-

Leviathan

This guy NEEDS the high prescription glasses with blue light filter 24/7

He stares at the screen all day, tell me he doesn't need it-

Anyway, he might have noticed that you need one in the beginning but didn't think too much of it and left it alone

He found out while he was playing a game with you and you weren't doing too good unless you lean closer/back

He doesn't mind carrying but while his eyes were focused on the screen, he asked if you were alright

You were his lover, after all, he didn't want you to get a headache or something because of him

You nod your head and tell him that it's because you need the glasses to fully see

As soon as the game was over, he was like, "Legit???" and couldn't believe his ears when you confirmed it

Dealing with glasses was difficult enough but he couldn't imagine playing while not wearing contacts or glasses

The day after that, you now have matching glasses with your boyfriend, now the both of you can act like the smart people in anime :D

Satan

Most likely wears reading glasses but that's it

He instantly knows that you need it because who squints like that?

But he doesn't have your medical files so he couldn't say for sure

It didn't hurt to ask though

"MC? Forgive me if this sounds offensive, but do you always squint like that?"

"Oh! I didn't tell you? I need glasses!"

"Have you not been wearing contacts or glasses this past month??"

"I forgot..."

Satan thinks of a solution, not wearing glasses when you need it, especially with bad vision might further harm the eyes so he tags along with you to get one

Frankly, he doesn't mind if his lover has glasses, he thinks it's endearing!

Asmodeus

Cares a lot about all of his body and makes sure to take care of them all the time so he didn't really need glasses, well, the ones with prescription that is

Honestly could have been one of the brothers to let you remember much earlier

Because he also spends time on his eyes, making sure it gets its needed rest, he might know something about glasses

And he noticed how you seemed to need one whenever you look at something close/far away

He hugs your arm, looking at you with a worried pout, "Hey MC, you've been staring in space and squinting for a long while, are you okay?"

As you reassured him and tell him that you just forgot your glasses, he laughs it off, until he realized that you weren't wearing one for MONTHS

He's a little worried, what if your vision got worse?

As soon as school ends, he's taking you to the doctor! No buts!

Beelzebub

The brother who didn't notice until at least 4 months or longer (while the others took a few weeks or a month)

Another one who cares about his body to keep it healthy, eyes are very important and even if it was an annoying task, he isn't planning on making it worse

Might have seen you squinting and staring off in space with a mean look, but that's what Belphie and Lucifer do sometimes, so he thought it was nothing

Until you say it outright to him or someone tells him, or if your vision's getting worse, he wouldn't notice-

"Ugh...I can't believe I forgot my glasses of all things.."

"You needed glasses??"

He feels bad for not noticing sooner, so he vows to help find you if ever your glasses get lost or ruined

Belphegor

Menace

Would be fast asleep to notice your struggles

And if we're going the original route and the two of you just met, he wouldn't even care-

When he finds out that you forgot them and had to walk around with no glasses, he snickered

"Who forgets their glasses?" He flicks your forehead with a small smile before yawning

Would bully you lightly tease you for having glasses in the first place

"You need glasses to see? Too bad."

But if you really do feel sad about what he's saying, he'll feel a little bad and stops it, apologizing quietly

Even if it's a difficult task for him to stay awake, he wants to at least try one time for you and remind you where your glasses are and that you should wear it

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shigarakislittlepet · 3 years

Note

im so happy to find a blog with good nsfw content for literally all my faves lol we share the same braincell it seems! how about fluffy nsfw headcanons for Dabi, Shigi, Aizawa and Shinsou and well, Baku but I don't want to overwhelm you even if you don't have a character limit hhh, with a s/o that was completely inexperienced in sex before they got together? They grew more comfortable with the idea of sex over time as they used to be really shy about it but they're scared they'll mess up and disappoint their loves? If possible could you mention what kind of approach each boy would have for the first time with their virgin s/o? I'm just feeling some fluffy dick tonite ya know lol stay safe out there <3

Ohhhh my gosh, this whole thing gave me brain rot lmao, thank you for giving me this power <3<3<3

This also took me literal months to finish because life got crazy, so I’m sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

TW: loss of virginity, gentelness, fluffy smut, unprotected sex bc I’m a whore (Y/N is on birth control), and as always all characters are adults especially Y/N

-Dabi-

> You are surprised by how patient he is with you. You were sure he’d have gotten tired of waiting, but he didn’t push. He didn’t make you feel badly about it, and the last thing he would ever want to do to sweet little innocent angel is coerce them into something they weren’t ready for. So, he waits.

> It happened so gradually. Over time, light kissing became making out. After a few months, you got more comfortable and it didn’t feel at all odd to fall into bed with him, cuddling and “swapping spit” as he called it, which always made you giggle like a schoolgirl at his crudeness. His hands would test the waters, but he was always feeling for nervous tremors and flinching, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable. At first, he only rested a hand on you lower back, drawing lazy circles into your waist, his other cradling your face gently, reassuringly. Eventually he could get his hand beneath your shirt, still just at your lower back, but he was content with his progress. Your skin was soft and you said he felt warm, and that was the first time he ever thought of his quirk as “sweet, comforting”, as you described the warmth from his hands.

> After a few months went by, he had progressed to the point of being able to freely roam your body with his hands, the warmth helping you stay calm and anchored to him.

> What continued to surprise you is how easy it felt, once you were ready. You didn’t even see it coming. He asked you, so gently, if he could take your shirt off. You told him he could as long as he promised to keep you warm. He went along slowly, constantly reassuring you, “God Angel, you’re so beautiful. I gotta see more of you, can I? Please?”, “You’re so soft, I need to feel more of your skin, angel, please?” You didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t need to. You felt safer with him than you ever had in your life.

> You realized, once you were both naked together, just how comfortable you were with him. And suddenly you felt like you needed to give him everything he ever wanted, and you knew he would do the same for you.

> It happens so slowly, or at least, it feels like it does. His hand slowly grazes down between your bodies until he reaches your core. You gasp, no one but you had ever touched you there, and it feels so foreign and wonderful. And warm. Once you begin bucking onto his fingers, an insatiable grin stretches across his face. He retracts his fingers, bringing them to his lips, and you watch as he sucks them clean. He calls you delicious and rolls on top of you, asks you if you’re ready for him. For the first time, you look down between your bodies and see just how huge and hard he is for you. When he sees your concern he kisses your forehead, then your lips. “I won’t hurt you Angel, I promise.” You nod and smile, and he starts easing into you, stopping every so often when he can tell the stretch is too much. He kisses your cheeks, your shoulders, your lips, whatever he can get his mouth on as he pants and mumbles little praises. “I love you”, “You’re doin’ so well”, “You’re takin’ me sooo well”, “God, you’re so beautiful, you know how beautiful you are Angel?”, “Ahh, you’re so fuckin’ tight and wet for me Angel, you want me that badly?”. The praises and teases help you considerably to keep you relaxed, and fuck, you DO want him. So fucking badly, you need him. When he’s finally seated inside you fully, he waits, clearly using every last bit of his restraint and self control to give you time to adjust. When you finally whine and buck your hips up on him, he loses it. “I hope you’re fuckin’ ready, Angel.”

>You find rather quickly that Dabi’s style is a beautiful mix of “fucking” and “making love”. He fucks you, hard and deep, so much so that it makes you see stars, but while he does it he’s caging you in-between his arms, holding you close while he pistons in and out of you. He looks you in the eyes, watching your reactions, quickly finding what angle makes you convulse and let out those beautiful moans and coos that he’s now desperate to hear.

>When he nears his end, he reaches down between you again to rub sweet circles against your clit, because no way is Dabi cumming first. It’s just not his style.

-Shigaraki-

>BRAIN ROT

> Shigaraki is definitely happy that you’re inexperienced, he’d kill anyone who had ever laid a hand on you before him. You belonged to him.

> It also means that you’re a virgin, which really gets him going because hes a pervert. ((He’s also secretly glad that he’s not the only virgin))

> He is touch starvvveeeeddddddd. We all know this. But at first, he’s so hesitant to touch you, for fear of destroying you.

> You are patient with each other, and together you find out what works and what doesn’t. He got some artist gloves so he could hold your fucking hand without hyperventilating about dusting you. He’s still afraid of you disappearing beneath his fingertips.

> You were never, not even for a second, worried that he would hurt you. You knew that he could, that he had the ability, but you knew that he wouldn’t.

> He wasn’t so sure, he was afraid of rolling over in the night and finding a pile of dust where you used to be. He wakes up from nightmares about it and has to wake you up to hold you while he shakes uncontrollably. He just has to know you’re alive.

> You both get more and more comfortable with physical proximity and contact together, because you both wanted it, you were both just so worried about fucking everything up.

> When the time came where both of you decided you were ready to have sex, you admitted to him that you were afraid of not measuring up to his expectations. All these “what if’s” kept popping up in your mind: “what if he doesn’t find my body attractive enough”, “what if I don’t know how to move right”, “what if I cant please him”, etc. etc. etc.

> He just looks at you kind of taken aback and confused. He was worried about you not being able to see him as sexually attractive because of how he looked, he was just as self-conscious as you. “Darling, you’re the most perfect person in existence, how can you not see that? Look at me! I’m... I... Look like this! How could I ever hope that someone as beautiful as you could ever see me that way?”

>You didn’t immediately know how to respond. You were... heartbroken that he saw himself that way. You couldn’t image him being self-conscious about anything because in your eyes, he was a god. He was perfect and angelic and you told him as much. You looked at him with such adorably big eyes and your voice was full of so much honesty and adoration, he had to have you immediately. He’d never felt desired, he had never felt lovable. He always thought it would be a miracle if anyone would ever be able to even stomach looking at him without cringing away in disgust. But you were so perfect and you loved him so immediately and so much that it knocked him out. He launches himself at you and just kisses you for a while.

> You both fumbled around a bit at first, trying to find what felt best. You both quickly came to the conclusion that you were going to have to practice together. A lot. As much as possible actually, because even in your inexperience, you both felt more amazing than you ever had in your lives. When you were connected like this, panting, kissing, licking, trying your damndest to become one being, it felt like bliss. You never wanted it to stop.

-Aizawa-

> MORE FUCKING BRAIN ROT

> Aizawa has an innocence kink. There I fucking said it.

> When it comes to the person he’s with, he’s a shameless flirt, and while he would NEVER cross a line or pressure you, he definitely does his best to get you in the mood whenever he can, much to your naïve frustration.

> At first you genuinely don’t even realize he’s doing it on purpose. The heated looks he gave you that made your knees weak? You didn’t think he was doing that on purpose, it’s just because he’s... tired? And he always looks so gorgeous, so that’s why. He ALWAYS makes your knees weak. Yeah that’s all it is, obviously.

> And when he comes up behind you, hands on your hips gently, and lowly rumbling in your ear. Sometimes it’s just comments about whatever you’re doing, which was bad enough. But sometimes it was mumbled compliments. About your outfit, how good it made your ass look. About how soft your hair was, how good you smelled, the softness of your skin while he gently rubbed his stubble against your neck.

>YOU COULDN’T FUCKING HANDLE IT.

> He was so soft most of the time, cuddling you while watching movies, cooking together, dancing in the kitchen with you at 3 in the morning after he finished grading papers. The shift that happened when he would get flirtatious was dizzying.

> You were nervous though, Aizawa was a bit older than you, and obviously way more experienced that you. One night while you were curled up in bed together, you told him you were nervous about disappointing him when the time finally came. He sat up and turned a light on immediately and pulled you into his lap. He held you and stroked your hair and told you how much you meant to him, how you could never disappoint him, how much he wanted you, and how he was willing to wait however long you needed. He held you until he was sure you felt better about it, and then he held you until he was sure you were asleep. You were the most important person in the world to him, and he wasn’t gonna let you think anything was ever gonna change that.

> When you finally got tired of his teasing and felt like you were ready, you decided to get him back. Before he got home, you put on one of his long shirts as a dress and started getting dinner ready.

> When he walked through the door and saw that you were wearing nothing but one of his black button ups, he had to maintain every ounce of his self control to contain the rush of feral need that suddenly consumed him. Now it was HIS turn to assume you were being innocent. And man did you play it up. “What’s wrong Shota? Are you feeling okay?” And you bat your big beautiful eyes at him. He was going to have a stroke.

> It wasn’t until you bent over and he noticed you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt that he realized it was an invitation. He came up behind you, caging you in against the counter, and growled lowly in your ear, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He gently pushed his growing erection against your ass, making you gasp. Score.

> “W-what do you mean?” you looked up at him as innocently as you could. He took your hand and pressed it to the front of his pants. He groaned low in his chest, thankful for any friction. “Don’t play dumb with me, kitten. You know exactly what you’re doing. I think you should take responsibility.” You grinned.

> “Yes Sir,” he jolts at that, and you sink your knees and get to work undoing the fastenings on his hero costume. When his cock springs free, you eagerly give it kitten licks until he’s had enough. He grips you by your hair and gently guides your mouth down onto his cock. He’s big, bigger than you can take, but that doesn’t stop Aizawa from purposefully making you gag on him every so often. He really does get off on how innocent you are, the tears that hang in your eyes from gagging on his cock. He’s gonna cum soon if he’s not careful.

> After he’s had his fun making you suck him off, he pulls you up and carries you off to bed. No way he’s taking your virginity on the floor, he’s too much of a gentleman. And dinner, what dinner? Thank god nothing happened to be on the stove or in the oven.

> He sets you down in bed and kisses you, takes his shirt off of you and finishes ridding himself of his hero costume. He takes pride in getting you ready for him, relishing in your sweet noises and how wet you are for him. A fact that he teases you about. “S-Shotaaa~” you moan and clench down on his fingers. He smirks, “What happened to ‘Sir’, hmm? I liked that, you know...” All you can do is whine up at him in response.

> When you feel like you’re close to cumming, you whine louder and clench down harder and before you can reach your peak, he stops. You whine in frustration before he leans down and rumbles, “Oh no, kitten, the only way you’re cumming is if you cum on my cock.” You gasp and nearly convulse at his filthy words, but you’ve never felt like you needed him more.

> He fucks you gently, at first anyway. For as long as he can. He rolls his hips into you and angles his thrusts expertly, aiming for that spot inside you that’ll make your head spin. And he hits it. Every time. And your head DOES spin. And soon you can feel the pressure build again and you start whining again, “Sh-Shouta, please! I’m s-oh! So close!” He smiles, and decides to take pity on you. He pistons harder, faster, brings a hand to your core to rub circles against your clit and when you cum, you scream his name and he can’t take it anymore. He slams into you, chasing his own high and simultaneously extends yours. You’re seeing stars by the time he cums deep into you. He rolls over, bringing you with him. You lie on top of him and he strokes your hair, and you just hold each other for a while.

-Shinso-

> I wanna say this now, Shinso is Aizawa Jr. I’m so sorry, but its true. They’re both tired, overworked, cat lovers that just wanna come home and cuddle and pass out.

> He knows he’s your first boyfriend. You met at UA and pretty much bonded immediately. Now that you’re both pro-heros working for the same agency? It was only a matter of time before he made a move. And thank whatever higher power exists that you have the same schedule. More time for cuddles.

> HOWEVER! Don’t let the fact that he’s a cuddle-bug fool you. He frequently has to remember that you’re a virgin and you’ve never been in a relationship before, so you have no idea how much he’s affected by you answering your door on a Saturday morning you both had off wearing one of his hoodies that absolutely swallows you. Looking up at him smiling and yawning sleepily, rubbing one of your eyes and groggily asking, “What are you doing here so early? I thought we weren’t going out till tonight?”. He has to breathe deeply to stop himself from jumping you.

> Because much like Aizawa, seeing you so sleepy and soft and small and knowing how innocent and naive you are to all of the things you do that make him need you... is going to make him lose his mind. Quickly.

> Instead of an innocence kink though, this motherfucker has a corruption and a mind break kink. He wants to make it impossible for you to feel pleasure without him, he wants to make you need him desperately, forever. And he wants to do it without the help of his quirk. But that would all come in time, at the moment he has to stop himself from cumming in his pants because you’re bending over on your way to your room so you can change, stooping to pet your cat and his hoodie rode up your ass and he can see your lacy black panties and you were GOING to drive him insane long before he ever got the chance to make you his, he was sure.

> He had brought you coffee and suggested you just stay in all day since you both had such a late night. Watching movies and stuff. You know, normal stuff. He told himself he wasn’t going to try and make a move. Right? Right.

> But when you emerged from your room 45 minutes later, showered and changed, your hair still damp and a droplet of water drifting down your neck and landing in the dip of your collar bones, all he could think of was licking it up. How good your hair must smell, how your skin was still probably warm form the water... He was staring, and you pretended not to notice.

> You were nervous about not measuring up to his expectations. You’d seen the women he usually went out with, and how comfortable they were with their bodies and their sexuality. How beautiful they were. As far as you were concerned, you were nothing like them.

> He could see the gears turning in your head and the downturn of your mouth, and he asked you what was wrong. He motioned for you to come sit with him, and it wasn’t five seconds before he pulled you into his lap. After some coaxing, you let him know what you were worried about. He assured you that the reason he was so happy with you is because you weren’t anything like the women he had dated before. Because, not only were you far more beautiful than they were, they had also been conceited and cold, only dating him because he was an up and coming pro-hero that could get them into events so they could dump him for the first bigger hero they’d meet. He liked that you were soft and warm and he could trust you, that you had always trusted him, even despite his quirk.

> You talked for awhile, and as the morning sun drifted higher into the sky, you decided it was time to door dash some food. While he ordered it, you excused yourself the restroom. You needed to think. The heaviness of the conversation still weighed on you, and you’d never felt closer to him than you did now. It was time, you were sure. You wanted to give him everything he’d been waiting so patiently for, he deserved it. And so did you damnit, no more of this scaredy-cat bullshit! You gave yourself your best war face in the mirror before you exited the bathroom and going back to the living room where Shinsou was reclined on your couch. Head tilted back, resting on the pillow behind him.

> He was so beautiful. Lavender hair a wild mess, eyes closed and lashes fluttering softly. You wanted to kiss his neck suddenly, and unlike when urges like this usually happened, you didn’t shove the thought away. You quickly straddled him and, before he had the chance to question you, you began kissing up and down his neck softly. “K-kitty...” he groaned beneath you, gripping your waist, his hips jerking up against yours.

> After a while of your explorative kissing, he growled impatiently and flipped you over easily, pressing you into the couch. He kissed you like he might die if he didn’t, deep and slow and desperate. When he finally broke for air and looked at you, he felt his heart and his dick jump. Your flushed face and your eyes that were looking up at him through your eyelashes heavily, your mouth hanging open gasping and your kiss bitten lips, your brows softly cinched at the effort it took for you to remember you needed to breathe.

> He asks you if you’re sure you were ready, and when you nod dazedly up at him he doesn’t need any more convincing.

> He takes his time, he’s slow and methodical. He wants your first time to be an enjoyable experience. Something you can look back on fondly and remember how much he loved you, how good it felt, how comfortable you were. He wanted it to be better than his first time, drunk after a hero convention, with some woman who didn’t remember his name in the morning and never called him back. He pushed the thought away. He focused on you, on how perfect you were.

> When he finally thrusts into you, you think you want to feel like this forever. You tell him so, and beams with pride, pushing your pleasure further. Kissing your neck and praising you. Telling you how perfect you are, telling you all the things you do that drive him crazy, telling you that he’s never going to let you go, that you’re his forever and he’s yours.

> You cum together, and you think that everything in the world must have always been this beautiful. You spend the rest of the day cuddling, eating, and making love.

-Bakugo-

> No thoughts in this mans head. None. At least when it comes to romance. When you first start dating, you had to make the first move cause his oblivious ass just thought you were challenging him. You had to explain to him that what you were actually doing was called “flirting”.

> So when it comes to your first time, you know you’re gonna have to make the first move there too. He fears rejection, so he avoids the things he really wants the most. Which in this case is you whining on his dick.

> But he also knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t wanna scare you, so he leaves it be. Trusting his fist to get the job done when he really needs to let off some steam. Either by punching shit or jerking off.

> One day, you do catch him jerking off, and you immediately start to (stupidly) think that you’re not enough for him, that he might leave you for someone who can give him what he needs. You don’t think he notices you having a mini panic attack in the hallway so you sneak back to the kitchen to catch your breath and think. Why HAD you waited this long? What were you waiting FOR? You guessed you had just been worried about not knowing what to do, about him getting impatient and annoyed with you for your lack of experience.

> Making your final decision, you square your shoulders and march yourself back to your shared room. You confidently open the door to find him ... waiting for you?

> “Tch, took you long enough. You done freakin’ out now?” He grumbles from his spot on the bed. You nod meekly and he opens his arms for you, an invitation you gratefully accept. He pets your head and continues grumbling, “ just as bad as shitty-hair, nobody ever knocks anymore. You shouldn’t be surprised when you just try to walk in like that...”

> He keeps petting your head until eventually you hit him with it. “‘Tsuki, I wanna... uhm...” you look up at him with pleading eyes hoping his quirk somehow suddenly allows him to read your mind.

> It doesn’t. “ You wanna what? C’mon, spit it out.” No thoughts, remember?

> You huff and blush and finally squeak out, “Wanna make you feel good, ‘Tsuki...”

> His brain stops working momentarily. When he catches back up, he smirks. “Seriously? It just took you gettin’ jealous over my left hand for you to be ready?”, he teased. You stick out your tongue and he grabs your jaw, looks you dead in the eyes when he says, “I have something much more important for that cute little mouth to do.”

> Your eyes go wide at his suggestion, even though it really doesn’t surprise you. When Katsuki wants something he wants to go all out, no half-assing it. You nod nervously and he laughs at your apprehension, allowing you to shift down his body until you were face to face with his fly. You undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, and gently guide his dick out of his jeans.

> Beautiful is the first word to come to your mind. Beautiful and massive, just like the rest of him. He was easily over six feet tall, and built too so it really shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. For a moment all you can do is look up at him from your place below him, your big strong hero. You melt a little and you notice him smirking down at you again, “What ‘ya lookin’ at, princess?”. He gently strokes your cheek while you admire him, “You.” you reply dazedly. His smirk widens to a bear malicious grin, “Me? How come?”. A feeling you’re not totally familiar with, but you’re pretty sure is called submission, fills you suddenly and you feel warm and content. “You’re perfect,” you bat your eyelashes and bite your lip as you gently start to stroke your hand up and down his length.

>He controls his breathing, because he really can’t handle you looking so cute with his cock that close to your pretty little face. “‘Tch, and? What’s got you so worked up about it?” You giggle and nuzzle your face into the base of his cock and look up at him innocently. “I’m just glad I’m yours,” you smile and lick him from base to tip before gently taking him into your mouth. You’d read enough smut online to at least have some idea how to do this.

> He almost cums when you say that you’re glad to be his. His, he grins. He doesn’t get to think about that for too long though because your warm, wet tongue is sliding up his shaft and then your pretty little mouth engulfs him and he thinks he might hyperventilate if you keep looking up at him like that. He’d almost say it wasn’t fair, but then you start moving and he thinks that he could actually die happily from the warm bliss that fills him while he watches you try to take more and more of him down your throat.

> This is much more fun than you thought it would be, especially because Katsuki keeps letting out those little sighs and groans, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You hollow out your cheeks and suck a bit harder before taking a deep breath and relaxing your throat as much as possible. You lower yourself down as far as you can, pushing past the ring of muscle in the back of your throat before moving down further. You feel him lay his hand gently, encouragingly, on the back of your head. You’re surprised when you find your nose nestled in the light blonde fuzz at the base of him and you stick your tongue out to lap at the underside.

> He jolts when you begin your descent. You’re not really gonna try to deep-throat him, are you? He watches you, mesmerized. No ones ever even tried, always saying he was way too big. It felt way too good. He laid a hand on the back of your head to ground himself, quickly realizing he had to control himself so that he didn’t clench his fist in your hair or shove you down all the way and hold you there. When you reached your goal, he sighed. Your throat felt perfect wrapped around him, just like he knew it would. When he felt your tongue sneak out of your mouth and lick, he thanked whatever creator there was that your tongue was long enough to reach his anchor. when you start to move your head up and down, he can only take it for so long before he’s thrusting up into your mouth. When you gag on him, that’s it, he has to pull you off him before he grips your head and suffocates you on his cock.

> He’s nearly at the point of begging, but thankfully, mercifully, you seem to get the idea. You wipe your mouth and lie back on the bed, giggling at his abruptness and he growls in response. He kisses you, and praises you, telling you how good you are, how much he needs to be inside you as he undresses you. You’re surprised at how automatically your legs open for him, and you tell him how much you need him inside of you as well. You feel so empty all of a sudden. Until one of his thick fingers finds your molten core and gathers some of your slick before sinking into you and you gasp.

> He continues to kiss and praise you as he works you with his fingers. You whine and moan and beg, it’s like music to his ears. When he thinks you’re ready, he lines himself up with your entrance, sliding up and down, grinding against your clit briefly before continuing. “I wanna hear you beg for it, princess.” and fuck, did you beg. A beautiful litany of filthy fucking words fell from your mouth, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He sinks into you fully in one thrust, gripping your open legs for stability.

> At first you can’t speak, you can’t make any noise at all. You feel so unbelievably full, and you look up at him and his eyes are clenched shut and his jaw is set. He’s holding himself back. He’s trying to be gentle with you because it’s your first time. He really is very sweet when he wants to be. You raise a shaky hand to his face and he leans into it. He met your eyes and you watch as his control falters when he sees you bent in half like this. You smile, “Katsuki, please”, is all you can say. It seems to open the flood gates. For all his self control, he pounds into you mercilessly and it fills you with the most intense feeling of ecstasy. “F-fuck ‘Tsuki, you feel s-so fucking good,” you moan and gasp brokenly.

> He cums hard. Grunting, growling, and near snarling the whole way through. You’re seeing stars, even though you haven’t cum. It had felt so fucking amazing, and you’re more than content with that. Katsuki is definitely not however, and is intent on eating you out until you beg for mercy. He always takes such good care of you.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #shinsou x reader #shinso smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut

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keilemlucent · 3 years

Note

while your currently drunk you can think about what it would be like to go clubbing with keigo. His possessive nature would def jump out wanting to keep you close at all times. you’d rock against his body as he holds you close keeping a keen eye but also enjoying the way your body sways over him. if he’s also inebriated who’s to say he won’t press you against the nearest wall rubbing himself against you and whispering in your ear how he could take you right here and now 🥰🥰 just a lil something

i am seeing this sober (and with my hangover cured lmao) BUT lemme tell u... the clubbing keigo brainrot is oh so 😩💕

(nsfw)

warnings: dubcon, a little yandere keigo, alcohol, drunk reader, drunk keigo, public sex, dacryphilia

...

Keigo is particularly possessive. Not necessarily in a way that is a cause for alarm, but more so something of note.

You've come to expect the way he hovers close to you in public. How he always wants to have his hands on you, whether that be the firm press of his palm on your lower back, or a tight grip on your waist with his chin hooked over your should. Really, any way he can, he stakes his claim.

It's a little more overt and shameless when the environment allows it to be.

Occasionally, there are small clubbing events for heroes and their company to unwind. Usually open bar. Frequently messy. But cell phones are confiscated at the door, so it's more than welcomed. Heroes really never get a chance to be, so why not be sloppy together?

Keigo loves to take you to them. He loves getting the chance to show you off and let anyone who looks your way that you are his. He curbs the urge in public, sure, but here? It doesn't matter. Here, there's hungry eyes that follow your every move, but they wouldn't dare try anything. Keigo doesn't let you out of his sight. Doesn't stop touching you, and he makes sure that anyone who looks sees how fucked you are for him.

After a few drinks, you’re bolder. Your words slur a bit, not enough to make him worry, but just enough for the sway and circling of your hips to be a little freer. You can get a bit bashful around so many pros, but with the stain of liquor on your lips you’re more than happy to dance the night away.

Keigo adores it. Loves that he gets to hold your hips almost to the point of bruising as you giggle and twirl to the club beats. He loves how unrestrained you both get to be, loves how you rock against him, back arching and neck craning to nuzzle of your nose against his jaw. He can’t tell if you’re just being sweet and gracious or quietly asking for more.

He has subtle restraint, he always does, but with a few shots having burned his throat earlier in the evening... it’s easier to indulge. He guiltlessly drags you back into him, grinding against your ass. You roll your hips back into his, leaning into his wandering touches. He can feel your breath hitch as his hands slip lower and plays with the hem of your dress.

Keigo wishes he had an ounce of shame (no, he really doesn’t, this is way too good) as he backs you into a darker corner, wings ruffled and raised. He gets a little rougher, pushing you up against the velour-covered wall, chest first. You flatten to it and brace yourself with sweaty palms. Sweet as can be, you flash him wobbly, wanting smile. You grind back into him, spine curved perfectly under the satin of your dress.

He knows people are watching, and honestly? Let them. Let them see how desperate you are. The strobing lights and neon obscure you enough that the details of you will be hidden, but they’ll know. Keigo’s wings ruffle at the thought debauching you in front of the impromptu, wanting crowd.

He lays his body over yours, feathers shuddering in time with his heavy breath. You’re rolling your hips back into his crotch, his cock is hard enough that he’s leaking (who knew the thought of casual ownership got him off this much?)

His lips drag over your neck, teething at the soft juncture of your shoulder. You moan his name, voice cracking with desire that makes him wild. His forearm braces next to yours, and he presses you into the wall, makes you feel the weight of all of him, wings and lean muscle.

He pulls from your neck with a growl and can’t help but pleased with the fat bruise he left behind.

“I should bruise you a collar of these,” He drips into your ear, teeth tugging at your earlobe. “If fucking you here doesn’t show everyone whose you are, that would get the message across, don’t you think?”

Your breath hitches from under the palm he slips over your lower tummy.

“Please, Kei’.”

He doesn’t know what exact thing you’re begging for, but he’ll give you everything. Anything. He rucks up your dress, and a hand slipping down the front of your panties and teasing along your slit, debating.

If he were at home, he’d take the time to prepare. He prefers to work you open on his fingers and tongue for a good while before fucking you. He doesn’t feel... right fucking you without you cumming once, twice, three times (as many times as you can stand), Under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

His hold slips from your hip to your jaw, turning your gaze to his and goddammit, if the sight doesn’t take his breath away. Your eyes are glassy, pupils wide and inky, and your lips are parted, perfectly. Wanting and waiting.

(He briefly debates fucking your throat but decides against it. He’d prefer to lick you clean on the limo ride home.)

Keigo presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath and licking into your mouth. It’s sloppy, he can feel the spit dripping down your chin as he massages your tongue with his. It’s fucking filthy and he loves it. The liquor is just making him ab bit more... honest.

He pulls away to unbutton his pants, untucking his breezy shirt to pull out his cock with a few lazy strokes. The little whine you give has him back on you, covering your body with his and teasing you sex with a single finger over your panties.

“I’d make you beg,” he muses, softly against your ear again, “But I have a feeling you’re a little too impatient to do so properly.”

You sputter something, whether it’s a denial or affirmation, Keigo doesn’t care. He’s already pulling your panties to the side, and slipping two fingers between your lips, hardly prep at all things considered.

Keigo spits down onto his dick and calls it good enough.

You rock back into him, shuddering and panting. You’re unabashed in it, ignoring the eyes in the room, all of your attention on him. The thought makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he can’t wait any longer.

He hikes one of your legs up high and spears into you in one swift motion with a beat of his wings.

Your breath punches from your lungs and your palms smack against wall. You’re already weak in his arms, from the alcohol and Keigo’s thick cock splitting you. Despite the lack of preparation, you’re less tense than you could be. Thank god for vodka.

All the same, Keigo starts slow. He wants you to hurt when this is over. He wants you to bear his bruises and imprints. You should be limping when he’s done with you. He’ll take care of you at home, patch you up how you both like so much, but for now--

He wants to leave an... impression.

Keigo picks up at his pace, gasping out a breath as he bottoms out, grinding against your ass and insides in a way that has you clenching and slurring out little pleas for more. And god, he’s happy to oblige.

He picks up his tempo, hand slipping tightening around your jaw, tucking your face to his and nipping at your lips. Your claw at the wall in front of you, but all of your leverage is in Keigo’s hands, and he uses it well.

The beat of the of the club music is the perfect tempo, the thump of it mostly disguises the slap of his hips against yours. But even the shadows of the rainbow lights can’t hide how he’s fucking ruining you. You’re hiccupping out cries for ‘more, please Keigo!’ loud enough that a few of his fucking colleagues have inched closer. It makes something in Keigo burn and he quickly goes for your neck again.

And sinks his teeth in hard enough for you to sob.

It has you clenching around him, and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The rhythm has his insides clenching, and he wants nothing more than to fill you up--

The thought of it, of you leaking with him, has white explode around the edges of his vision.

He spills inside of you, thick and hot and you gasp at the feeling. You fumble for his hand, and Keigo clasps yours easily, squeezing. The cant of his hips goes sloppy, just like the two of you.

Softened, he slips out of you. But Keigo is quick to replace his cock with two fingers, plugging you and tsking.

“You didn’t cum, did you, dove?”

You shake your head, still half-crying and needy, “N-no, I d-didn’t.”

“Can you keep yourself upright if I fuck you on my fingers?” Keigo muses, though it’s a genuine question. “Be honest.”

You swallow and rub at your wet, streaky cheeks, “I d-dunno. ��M really shaky, Kei’.”

He already knows that, but it’s cute that you tell him like he’s not the cause of it.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then, isn’t it?” Keigo kisses your cheek, too kind for how filthy you are. “I’ll keep you up, sweetheart.”

You nod, give a little ‘thank you’ that gets broken as he spread his fingers in your cunt. His own cum drips down his wrist and he can't bother to care. He can’t bother to care about anything that isn’t the sweet little whines or the flush that is dusting your cheeks beneath tears and smeared makeup.

He bullies the bundle of nerves inside you without any care other than making you fall apart. Maybe it’s bad, the desire he has to force you to come undone by his hand in front of his peers. You’re his partner, and a bit illusive consider the relative secrecy of your relationship.

What a goddamn introduction.

He slips another hand around your front and rolls your clit beneath to fingers. Keigo can’t help sucking another bruise into your neck, like the first one wasn’t enough of a statement.

He speeds up his treatment as you breath gets more ragged, as you repeat his name to the flash of the strobes and lean back into him. You tense around him as you cum, crying out with a thump of your head against the wall. He holds you through it, not slowing or faltering as you shake and sputter.

Carefully, Keigo lets down the leg he’s had pinned. He anticipates how they falter, and already has an arm around your waist to keep you upright.

“Thank you,” You murmur, your voice gentle and soft. Far too soft for what you’d just done. It’s sweet though, the way you’re pliant for him as he straightens you up.

You’re filthy, thighs covered in a mix of him and you. Keigo’s damp in his own boxer briefs and it’s not exactly... comfortably. And certainly not ideal for dancing.

You turn toward him. Your arms wrap around his neck and god, you’re too cute as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you’re sobering up, or maybe you’re cock drunk, he isn’t sure. But it’s the same comfort that you need. He smooths a hand up your back, laying kisses over your temples and hair lines.

His colleagues are still watching, maybe more than before, because Hawks has a reputation for being a greedy, impulsive bastard, but what he doesn’t have is any reputation for being sweet.

The vulnerability of it has him moving his wings to encircle the two of you. A bit of much-needed privacy.

“How about I call us a ride home?” Flying drunk is never good idea. (He found out the hard way.)

You nod, gripping the front of his shirt, “I don’t think I can’t dance anymore.”

“I imagine you can’t, huh, dovey?” He teases with another peck to your cheek.

You whine and beat his chest with your fist for a moment without a hint of ire. The night is still relatively young but given the drink in your veins and the cum in your cunt, perhaps it would be best to turn in for the evening.

(Or Keigo could fuck your throat on the ride home. The thought is still appealing.)

You mutter something unintelligible against his neck, and Keigo silently reminds himself to make sure you drink a bottle or two of water before bed. Maybe he can get a snack in your belly before you knock out for the night.

(Or, maybe, Keigo could have his own ‘snack’ by cleaning your cunt with his tongue as you doze off--)

Keigo purrs with his thoughts as he tucks his wings to his back, ushering you to the exit, all the while feeling the (horny, jealous, surprised) stares of his colleagues at his back.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #drabble #hawks imagines #hawks smut #hawks #ANYWAYS #god... it's been awhile since i've written smut #feels GOOD #still managed to make it soft #but lemme tell ya i have so much clubbing brain rot #and possessive kei makes my brain go BRRRR

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Note

SAW THAT DRUNK FLUFFY HEADCANNON. NOW DO A ANGST SMUT VERSION OF IT OR WHATEVER SIS. LEZ GET ETTTT SKRRTSKRTTTTT

Please. 🥺

LEZ GET IIIIIIIIIIT SKRTSKRT (I CANT)

some of these are both smut/angst and others only smut or only angst OK? ok

SMUT AND ANGST VERSION WOOP now we’re talking bby

warning; SMUT/ANGST. gn!reader x skz. subxdom, use of alcohol, sex under influence, minor injuries, penetrative sex, degradation, punishment, nicknames, choking, mentions of blood, slight dacryphilia, mentions of tobacco

Bangchan

he’s more pouty but seeing you with scraped knees makes him mad

mad because he cares so much about you

“y/n you’re being stupid”

you fall into his arms, just as mad back at it

“if im so stupid then leave”

he looks at you, dumbfounded but then mad

“fine, then i’ll leave” he says, clearly hurt by your words but holding tightly to his pride, storming off.

as the door closes you panic, feeling lonely and paranoid at the same time

you never really being good with alcohol anyways

so him leaving you in this vulnerable state made you feel,,, bad :((

you run after him and eventually catch up

right as you get to him you stumble, scraping your knee and your hand

he turned around quickly, filled with worry but also pure rage

“you’re so stupid y/n” he says leaning down and looking you into your glossy eyes

“h-help me channie” you say, your voice frail

he sighes, picking you up and the two of you going back home

Minho

be scared be real fucking scared

you aint walking for a week nuh uh

fucks you DEEP

deeper than ever

boy is mad as fuck, he just lashes out on you for being so stupid as to walk home alone in the middle of the night.

he complains and scolds you whilst he’s railing you oop

“fucking stupid, walking like that all alone”

you are practically crying underneath him, not sure if it’s from him scolding you or from how DEEP this man goes

pounding some sense into you LMAO

lots of choking OOF

denying your orgasm until you’re crying

“yeah thats right, cry for me” (lmao cue twice)

NAH BUT A SWEETHEART AFTERWARDS I PROMISE

Changbin

“what if you get injured y/n?” he says, holding your hand on your way home

“i didn’t!” you say confidently

“then whats that?” he says, pointing at your bleeding knees

“n-nothing” you say, limping forward

“should listen to me more” he says quickly, puffing his cheeks in frustration

“i do listen, just,,, just let me have f-fun!” your head spinning.

“but thats not having fun y/n, thats called being stupid and destroying your health” he spits on the ground

“alright then let me, not like it’s affecting you in any way” you slur out, changbin looking at you through hooded eyes as he exhales loudly

“maybe if you’d stop being drunk all the time you’d actually see how it is effecting me” he says, letting go of your hand causing you to stumble over your own legs

you hit the cold concrete in the dark as he walks home

“come back when you’ve thought about your actions”

Hyunjin

he paces back and forward in the hallway, waiting for you

the door creaks open and you, looking like a mess, appear infront of him

“where were you? i was worried sick y/n! you cant just do-”

“shush,,, i want a,, a hug” you stammer out, getting closer to him and smelling of cigarettes and alcohol

he pushes you away, glaring at you through dark eyes

“do you even care about me?”

you tilt your head, feeling more unstable for every second that goes by.

“of course hyunnie!” you smile lazily at him

but he’s not buying any of it

i feel like he holds grudges for a long time??? idk just me??

“i’ll sleep on the couch, dont come close to me”

bruh his voice and tone is so cold, it send shivers down your spine

you nod, tears bubbling up in the corners of your eyes.

Jisung

“im not helping you!” jisung says, you rubbing your thighs together, always feeling needy when drunk

“pl-please sungie, i-i wont drink ever again i-if you help,,, me”

he cocks his eyebrow at you, licking the inside of his cheek

“mhm.. you think im stupid enough to fall for that? what do you really think of me babygirl/babyboy”

you scratch the back of your head, not knowing what to answer

“y-you fell for it last time~”

he scoffs, pissed at the fact that you came stumbling through the door in the middle of the night

him waiting for you and being filled sick with worry

he leans closer to your ear, feeling the smell of liquor

“why should i help you? sluts like you dont deserve me”

you whine at his words, not helping with your neediness

“please,, jisung i,, just help me!” you were started to get pouty to which he chuckles

“beg nicely”

Felix

“where were you”

his voice is like LOW low

he sits with his legs spread apart

bruh his gaze?!??”! its like black, just blank

you try to ignore him, shuffling around awkwardly but only stumbling from being drunk

“sit” he pats his lap you gulp, having no other choice but to listen

you sit down on his lap

your eyes are running all over the room, looking everywhere but at felix

“was my slut out drinking?”

BRUH YOU JUST STARE AT HIM

he only says that when he’s mad, ONLY

so now you’re scared but you nod, barely having your eyes open

he hums, his voice vibrating through your ears

“you agree, you’re a slut?”

you nod again and before you know it theres a hand wrapped around your throat, pushing on the sides and making you feel even more lightheaded.

his mouth gets close to your ear

his warm breath desending down your cheek

“dont make me do this kitten”

Seungmin

frustrated

he gets a call from one of your friends that tell you that you’re passed out on the street

he picks you up, you barely standing on your own two legs and the entire way home he didnt say a word

as soon as the door to your home closes he starts yelling at you

“dont you have any thoughts in that dumb head of yours?”

you start tearing up from his loud and stern voice, leaning against a wall.

“i-im sorry minnie”

that being the only sentence he understood, the rest sounding more like blabbering

“are you really sorry y/n, are you??!”

“y-yes,,, just tired~”

without saying anything more he grabs his jacket and leaves

slamming the door behind him

at first you dont understand but then the silence takes over, leaving you wrapped with a lonely blanket as tranquility

“m-minnie?” you call out as if he was still there but being met by nothing but pure silence

you slide down against the wall, crying as seungmin peeks through the door, feeling bad for making you cry

Jeongin

“enough”

he grabs the bottle from your hand, placing it beside him as the two of you were drinking at home.

“but whyyy?~ we were just getting started innie~”

he looks at you with a puzzled expression

your cheeks flaming hot and your eyes drooping down

“cant you just stop y/n?”

you meet his brown eyes, not understanding what he meant

“hm? whatchu mean~?

he sighs loudly, seeing you roll around on the floor

“why can’t you just control yourself? why do i always have to take care of you?”

you laugh, your thoughts gone with the wind

“thats funny innie!”

poor boy gets frustrated and lays down, hovering above you

“is it funny if i do this?”

he kisses you, slowly trailing his fingertips downwards

OK I HAVE ONE REQUEST LEFT IN MY INBOX SO GOTTA DO THAT!! and after that im gonna start posting/working more on fics even though... i feel shit about writing fics because they never turn out that good huh.... AH WELL at least im trying T-T

hard/soft thoughts are always welcome ><

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fweasleyswhore · 3 years

Note

If you are taking requests for the kinkmas list, can I pretty please get, dry humping & humiliation kink for george 🥺 thank you! If not it’s completely fine, no worries!

Kinkmas Day 1:

Humiliation and Dry Humping

George Weasley - Get Off

a/n: I have already told you but this is so hot and it was really fun to write, thank you for this request <3 I know its a few days late but ofc right after I got excited for kinkmas I got my period and its hard to write when I cant stop crying and hurt hella bad lmao - all good now tho

pairing: george weasley x gender neutral reader (mentions reader wearing a skirt, no pronouns)

word count: 1.4k

warnings: smut, humiliation/degradation, dry humping, p short my b

Fuck. It had been all day. An entire day of purposeful brushes, small touches, dirty words, and then, nothing. Strutting through the halls of the castle I couldn’t deny the burn that spread through my entire body. All-day, all damn day, George had been teasing me. And now I could not find him.

The only thing stopping me from heading to my dorm and fixing the problem myself were his words.

“Hold out for me sweetheart, tonight I want to show you the stars.” The words echoed through my head again making a shiver run down my spine. The words he whispered to me during herbology followed by a light smack on my ass fueled the fire I now felt all over. I had scoured the entire castle after dinner, starting in his dorm and then everywhere else. I even checked the library but to no avail. I decided I would try the last few places before I completely gave up. It was by no doubt after curfew by now, and I didn’t mind disobeying George if I literally couldn’t find him.

Trudging up the stairs to the astronomy tower I played with the hem of my skirt. If I focus hard enough I could almost feel George’s hands raking up my thighs, a feeling that I craved so badly right now.

Making it to the top of the tower I gingerly pushed open the door, a soft plush mattress sat on the floor, covered with an immense amount of blankets and the soft glow from a few floating candles surrounding the area. I felt my breath hitch as my eyes trailed to the lanky ginger boy laying on the bed.

“What is this?” I asked softly. His head popped up at the sound. His eyes were dark but his face adorned a giddy smile that made me weak knowing I was the cause.

“Well, I did say I wanted to show you the stars now didn’t I?” He said in a cocky voice, his head cocked on the side.

I felt my cheeks heat up as guilt panged my stomach. “Oh Merlin, I’m an idiot aren’t I?”

“Maybe, but you’re my idiot.” He said plainly. I couldn’t help but smile at the boy, laying down slightly, propped up on his elbows, legs spread. His school sweater was nowhere in sight, and his tie laid untied around his shoulders. He looked delicious, and I needed him.

“I wasn’t aware I belonged to you,” I said lightly, sauntering over to him I watched the way his smile fell and had to hide my own smile as I plopped down next to him on the bed.

“After everything I did to you today you still want to be a brat?” He asked pulling himself up and looking at me like a predator would his prey.

“I have no idea as to what you are talking about.” I lied cooly. I was thankful for the dark lighting hiding what I assume to be a dark blush coating my features.

He sighed and pulled his tie off of his shoulders. His hands rung the fabric, tightening around it for a moment so his veins popped out ever so slightly. The sight made my desire deepen and I rubbed my thighs together, feeling my wetness begin to pool as the day’s events caught up to me.

“What you are doing says differently sweetheart,” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, opting to continue to play with his tie. “What you are doing is telling me that you’re a misbehaving whore who needs to be put in their place.” He finally looked at me. The tie in his hands now was pulled into an intricate knot that had two loops similar to handcuffs.

“I watched you today, I watched you rub your thighs together in potions like you wanted me to bend you over right there.” His words had my mouth dry and my pussy drenched. I had no words or cheeky comeback as he watched me with dark hungry eyes. Every word sending me closer to the edge. “I watched how after every interaction we had you grew more desperate, you may say you don’t belong to me but your body sure does, and by the end of the night your mind will too.”

I opened my mouth to shout something back but before I could his lips met mine in a wet sloppy kiss. His hands soon found my waist and hoisted me up onto his lap, straddling him. From the new angle, our kisses grew more heated and synced. His hands trailed down my waist to my hips, he pushed me down rutting his hips into mine. I felt his clothed bulge grind straight into my core and I didn’t hold back the moan that erupted from my chest. He took that moment to stick his tongue in my mouth, I didn’t bother fighting him with my own, I continued to grind into him sucking on his tongue. He squeezed my hips and pushed up again in sync with my own rhythm I had set that felt amazing. I pulled back letting out a high-pitched whine.

“Look at you saying you’re not mine but falling apart before I have even properly touched you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were soaking, no one else can do this to you, you’re my whore.” I simply nodded at his words. Too caught up in the pleasure he was giving me to formulate a proper response. “Do you think I could get you off on my thigh? Do you think you could get off by humping my thigh like a worked up whore?” I buried my head in his neck, continuing to rut my hips into him as he spoke I felt my orgasm quickly approaching, and the thought of having to stop to situate myself on his thigh seemed counterproductive.

“N-No.” I barely whispered. “Don’t need to.” His hand trailed up my side and behind my head, until he grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling harsh enough to pull my head back but not enough to hurt me. I looked at him with half-lidded eyes. The devilish smile plastered on his face told me he was enjoying me falling apart on his lap.

“Gonna cum from this?” He asked pushing his hips into mine with force. I whined, nodding as much as I could with his hand in my hair.

“Yes, god yes,” I said hastily. The knot in my stomach was fraying at the ends, beginning to fall apart or snap any second. “Please Georgie, need to cum, need to cum now,” I begged.

I watched as his smile fell into a more serious expression, the hand on my hip grew a tighter grip as he spoke. “Say it, slut. So eager for me, about to cum without me touching you, admit it. You’re mine.” His voice was a few octaves deeper than normal and slightly hoarse. His words pushed only further at the knot in my stomach which was moments away from unraveling.

“I’m yours, all yours Georgie. Please let me cum, please let your whore cum for you.” I begged, rutting my hips harder. I screwed my eyes shut, willing my every fiber to wait for his permission.

“Cum for me.” I fell apart in his lap. Panting out broken ‘thank you’s, and blinking away tears. He released my hair and my head fell forward onto his chest, I slowed down my hips and soon enough my breath followed suit.

“Yknow, I was joking when I said that I didn’t belong to you,” I said breathlessly. I felt his chest rumble against my forehead as he laughed, one hand running up and down my back soothingly.

“I know, I just wanted you to know you couldn’t get away with that.” He whispered in my ear. I picked my head up gingerly, looking into his lust-filled eyes.

“Can you do something for me?” I asked quietly, trailing a hand up his chest. He hummed in response causing me to let the smile I was trying to hide slip onto my lips. “Prove to me your mine.”

“Oh, you are in for it now.” I couldn’t hold back the giggle that left my lips as he pushed me down onto my back, towering over me.

Tonight would be a long night.

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primalsouls · 3 years

Text

white rabbit pt 5

langa hasegawa x gn! reader ( pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4)

anon: ⬇️

⚠️ : none.... I think? please let me know if there's anything to trigger!

theme: general

note: and scene. *bows* lol anyway, the fin to the white rabbit 🤧 thank you all for all the love you gave towards to white rabbit! i really appreciate it very much and it means a lot to me, really! 💖🥰 but like many great series, this one came to an end. it leaves an empty hole in my heart. 💔 but fr, really thank you. :) for all the love and support. i cant get it out enough. it just makes me happy how many people loved this work. ❤

like always, thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy it and like it, let me know what you think. and sorry for any mistakes, no proofread lmao. love you! 💚🫂

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

A family would always be part of one's life. But does it had to be consistent of related blood? Or could it be just a person and their pet? Perhaps it could be a group of friends? Perhaps.

When family comes to mind, [Y/N] would be reminded of their father's neglect on them. Of a mother who abandoned them. Of their older brother wishing to do nothing with them but just get them out of the family. Of aunts who showed their "love" for them in a horrid way.

But now, when family comes to mind, they were reminded of a man and his adorable pet with pointy ears. Of a redhead who talks non-stop of skateboarding and his way of woodworking. Of a young boy who had a talent for talking to cats. Of a florist man who was a clown at night. Of an amazing chef and his good looks. Of a elegant man who had a love for his AI. And finally, of a young blue-haired boy who was silent yet talktive at the same time.

Who would had thought they would find another family that quick. It took time to open up, yes, but at a steady pace like they were learning skating once again was all they needed to build up trust and care for these people.

And even though they were banned from S, [Y/N] was not ban from skating and Langa made sure to bring that point to them. He thought they hated skating because of him but all they needed was a little time off before getting back on the board. Reki built them a customized skateboard that fitted their aesthetics. A street board decorated in black on top and white on bottom with red wheels. A cute white rabbit's head and its red eyes painted on the bottom largely like Langa's abominable snowman. Langa had asked Reki to make it and Reki didn't refuse. It was a surprise gift for [Y/N], Langa told him.

Ever since their friendship with Langa started on that day after weeks of leaving S, Langa stood by their side. He kept his promise. He never hurt them. If anything, his love for them grew. They went to the same school now. They ate lunch with the boys in the roof top. They skated together at the boys' usual hangout. And being kicked out of their old home, Reki's mother was happy to let them stayed until they earn enough money from working for Dope Sketch to live on their own place. It felt nice. The new changes. The environment was different from their old life with the Shindo Family. It was welcoming and lovely. No sense if hatred send towards their way. They liked it.

"Good morning, Reki and [N/N]!" Langa said, smiling a little when he saw Reki and [Y/N] skated down the sidewalk to the pole where Langa stood. Reki grinned and greeted his best friend, high-fiving each other.

"Morning, Langa!" Reki said brightly, getting off his skateboard. When [Y/N] catched up, Langa walked up to them.

"Mornin'..." [Y/N] greeted softly. They still weren't used to the presence of Langa and Reki and their personalities despite being friends with them for a few months now. They never had friends before. Kids they met during their childhood bullied them. Their brother never wanted to do anything with them, so a brotherly bond was never formed. Well, maybe they did had one friend and it was Tadashi. Like Ainosuke, he taught [Y/N] how to skate. But unlike their brother, they never made the effort to go up to Tadashi to spend time with him. They were younger, too. Too little to play with the older boys.

"Hey, earth to [N/N]~? Anyone home?" Reki waved a hand in front of their face, wincing when it was smacked away. "Ow! Langa's right, you do slap hard." The redhead complained, rubbing his hand as back away from the other. [Y/N] pouted as they glared playfully at Reki.

"Sorry... I was just... thinking, that's all." The [h/c]nette muttered as they looked down at the board steadied by their foot on top of it. Langa tilted his head.

"What were you thinking about?" His silk voice calmed them down whenever they heard it. It was soothing to their ears. It was one of the things they liked about Langa, along with many other quirks of his. Such as his baby blue eyes. They loved staring into them. They liked to run their hands through his soft, blue hair whenever they hangout on the couch, leaning against each other.

It was funny. How they instantly click. Already finding comfort in each other. A few months ago, [Y/N] hated Langa. Refusing to hangout with him. Skate with him. Talk to him. But little by little, Langa took his time with them and broke down their walls, leaving each space for them to feel comfortable with his presence. It was the one thing that made them fall for him. Whenever he smile, their heart beat against their chest like butterflies were inside. They had this tingling feeling in their stomach whenever Langa look at them. They liked this feeling. It was an unfamiliar one but they could get use to it.

"[Y/N]..." There it was again. Their name rolled out of his tongue. It meant for him to say their name.

"Ah, yeah... Um.... I was just thinking," [Y/N] cleared their throat, eyes looking down at the ground as they tried to hide their flushed face. "if we're gonna skate? Try for any new tricks?" They shrugged, glancing back up at the two friends quickly. Reki nodded with a grin.

"Of course, we're gonna! Langa still gotta nail that one trick of yours." Reki teased, nudging the other boy on the torso as he looked up at him. Langa pouted, earning a laugh from Reki.

"It's a hard trick," Langa started but closed his hands into a fists with a determined expression on his face and locked his eyes with [Y/N]. "But I'll try my best to achieve it, [N/N]."

A soft laugh caught the two boys off guard. They stared at [Y/N] with slightly wide eyes. They hardly hear them laugh, so it was a first time since they became friends that the duo heard [Y/N] laugh. And Langa loved it. Such as much as he loved every little thing about them. It brought a gentle smile to his face.

Their eyes locked once more. Both staring at each other with admiration.

"I can't wait then. Let's see you try to nail the White Rabbit's ticking curve trick." [Y/N] said. Reki chuckled, already getting a head start to the direction to the usual skating hangout. Langa turned to them, a hand held out. And without another word, [Y/N] took his hand in theirs.

No words were needed to exchange for the looks they gave each other were enough. Actions says more than words. And skating down the road, hand in hand, was enough for Langa to know they wanted to stay with him such as much as he wanted to stay with them.

The phrase to skate together with you didn't just apply to his friendship with Reki, but also applied to his new found relationship with [Y/N].

In the end, he caught the white rabbit and left the thorns filled hole of theirs, not bother one bit about the minor cuts he occurred. All he cared about was the white rabbit, who rested safely in his arms and shower by the love they had wished for.

A love they both could see growing as days went by.

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sunarinexe · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys looking after their sick s/o ♡

ft: oikawa t. , bokuto k. , kenma k. , atsumu m. , kuroo t.

tooru oikawa ~

omg caring boyf!

very lightly scolds you for not looking after yourself, to which you look at him like 😐

boy cant say shit

overall very good at looking after you and knows exactly how to cheer you up!

gets pouty when you say you cant cuddle because then he might get sick :(

it was lowkey tooru's fault that you were sick in the first place. you were supposed to meet him at the school gates after his practice. when you arrived there were a few grey clouds in the sky but you didn't think much of it as you weren't supposed to be waiting that long.

But after about 10 minutes of waiting, you felt little rain droplets land on your head. Not even 5 minutes later, the light rain had turned into a full blown storm. You ran to a shelter, but your uniform was already soaked. You could already feel shivers running up your spine as you tried to dry yourself and preserve your body heat.

By the time Tooru found you, you were shaking from the cold but you're cheeks and forgead were burning up. "y/n-chan! oh god, are you okay? you're soaking!" you were so frustrated with him for taking this long but all you wanted was to go home. you looked up at tooru as he brushed your damp hair out of your face. " i was waiting for your practice to end but you were probably doing extra practice again, weren't you?" you challenged him. tooru's eyes widened and he pulled you into a hug. "come on, let's get you home baby".

As soon as you walked throught the door, you were stripped of your damp uniform and ushered into a warm shower. You felt a little better afterwards but your nose and eyes were still pretty watery and your fever wasnt going down much.

Tooru wrapped you in a blanket burrito for your shivering body and pressed a cool damp cloth against your forehead for your fever. With some of your favourite snacks next to you on a coach and a cheesy sci-fi movie on the tv, you leaned against Oikawa with his arm draped around your shoulder. He patted your head every now and then with the occasional head kiss until you fell asleep.

(side note: he carried you to bed and tried to cuddle up and nap with you, but you woke up and told him he wouldn't be able to play volleyball if he got sick. that shut him up real quick but wouldn't make his pout go away 🥺)

koutarou bokuto ~

would be SO pouty if you didnt show up for school one day bc u were sick

leaving poor akaashi to deal with his slump :(

originally tried to leave school to come see you but you said you would lock your door if he left 🥺

he just wants to help

would literally BOLT to your house as soon as he could

"BABY WHERE ARE YOU?!"

You were woken from your nap to a bang of your front door and Kou shouting for you. However, due to your sore throat you couldnt really answer, so you sort of just waited for him to find you like a puppy. You could hear his heavy footsteps running around the house, opening every door looking for his beautiful s/o.

When your bedroom door flew open, you saw a disheveled Bokuto, his uniform a mess and his hair droopy. His eyes lit up when he saw you and a big grin formed on his face. "BABY! OH MY GOSH I WAS SO WORRIED ARE YOU OKAY DO YOU NEED ANYTHING??" he yelled rushing towards you and jumping onto your bed next to you to embrace you. Not hearing an answer, he looked up at you with some confusion. "Baby?". You sighed and pointed to your throat, indicating you couldn't talk without it hurting. Don't worry because Bokuto is a firm believer that kisses and cuddles are the best medicine for any sickness! He talked your ear off while holding you close, chatting about his day and his teachers and how he landed a killer spike in practice, all the while you hummed and traced random shapes on his chest.

(side note: dont even try to tell kou you cant cuddle because you're sick. this man will NOT listen)

kozume kenma ~

pls he probs wouldnt even notice you werent watching their practice until kuroo or lev pointed it out

that's weird you caught the train to school with him this morning?

he'd text you after practice asking you were you were to which you replied "oh i went home bc i threw up in the bathroom lmao im ok tho 🥰"

he didn't believe you were okay for a second you just didnt want him to worry.

hed stop by a convenience store on the way to your house to pick up some snacks and drinks you like for when you feel better.

and just rocks up to your door unannounced 🤪

"kenma? what are you doing here?" you asked the boy stood awkwardly at your front door. kenma knew he was right, you definitely didnt look okay. you were pretty pale and wrapped up in layers of jumpers and blankets but you looked sweaty at the same time.

without saying anything, he gently pushed you to your bed after shutting the door behind him. he took off his backpack and school blazer and v-neck, laying them on your desk chair. he took out the bag of goodies and his game from his backpack and sat against the headboard of your bed, all without saying anything. you were about to question him again when you were pulled backwards and laid down in between his legs, your back against his chest and his head sat softly atop of yours. gently wrapping his arms around you, with his game in his hand, you watched him play quietly, sometimes asking questions about it which he happily answered and even offered you a go as long as you didnt mess up his score. every once in a while, hed feed a snack into your mouth while watching you play in his lap. <3

atsumu miya ~

this dude turned up at your front door like he did every morning to walk to school with you and samu.

however, when you came outside in your uniform, he immediately noticed you were most certainly NOT well.

mother fucker hoisted you over his shoulder and walked you back inside, all the while shouting to samu to 'cover for him at school'

the audacity of this bitch

after realizing what was happening, you started punching tsumu's back and ordering him to put you tf down. "sorry doll, but i wouldnt be much of a good bf if i let 'ya go to school sick, now would i?". you just went limp in his arms and accepted your defeat.

he took you into the kitchen and sat you on the countertop, giving you a quick peck on your nose before turning round and rummaging around in cupboards to find medicine. after finding the right one, he coaxes you into taking it because apparently "'ya may be his baby but 'ya cant act like one when you're the same age as him" (🙄).

proceeds to try and cook you some nice food but apparently he doesnt share his twin's cooking talent. so he sheepishly orders delivery after you convinced him to give it up. carries you up to bed AGAIN even though you tell him you're perfectly capable of walking up the stairs. throws pyjamas at you and orders you to change while he just changes it to what was supposed to be today's practice clothes, which reminds you to scold him for ditching school. pulls you onto his lap and shuts you up with a kiss. keeps trying to make out with you but you tell him you cant because you're sick. acts SUPER pouty about it but practically chucks you off of his knee onto the floor when he hears the doorbell for the food.

tetsuro kuroo ~

was high-key very worried when you didnt show up at your date as planned.

got scares and ran to your house to see if u were okay

(has a spare key aw)

he quietly called out your name to see if you were there.

not getting a response he cracked open your bedroom door to see you curled up under the covers fast asleep with the curtains closed despite it being 1pm.

after rubbing your eyes to wake up properly, you checked your phone. you tensed up after seeing the time and loads of missed calls and texts from 'tetsu <3'. you slapped your forehead, cursing yourself even though it wasnt really you're fault. you just get extremely tired when you're sick and tend to sleep a lot.

you jumped up out of bed, trying to ignore the dizziness in your head as you frantically searched for some clothes. however, darkness clouded your vision for a few seconds and you fell out cold onto your bedroom floor.

you woke up for a second time to tetsu's worried face and him shaking you awake. you stared back groggily at him. "tetsu... TETSU?!" you cried, your eyes shooting open. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY IM SORRY FOR BEING LATE WE CAN STILL GO OUT RIGHT?". Kuroo looked at you super confused. "kitten, why are you apologising? you can't help that you were sick and no absolutely not we cant go out you're staying here you clearly need rest." he said while picking you up bridal style and tucking you back into the bed covers. "now wait here, i made your favourite, let me go get it before it does cold"

babyed you when he came back, blowing on your food if it was hot and feeding it to you. constantly giving you little pecks. when you finished he put the dishes in the kitchen sink, opting to wash up when you fell asleep again which he was determined to be in his arms this time <3

#oikawa headcanons #haikyuu imagines #kenma fluff #oikawa fluff #oikawa x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo scenarios #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsurō #atsumu scenarios #atsumu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

Text

thank you @chiptrillino for tagging me in a wip game!

not quite sure what the rules are but based off of your AMAZING POST OF ART WIPS (check it out here yall chip is so talented) ive decided to just share some parts of my writing wips that i rlly like because i cannot draw whatsoever lmao

enjoy some lil snippets hehe

from heart don't stand a chance:

"Zuko couldn’t get over her eyes. She was looking past the camera towards the man who took it. Zuko could see clear as day the love she held for Sokka in her gaze.

It was a perfect moment that Sokka had captured. No wonder held it with him at all times. If someone had looked at Zuko like that, he’d never want to see anything again.

As he took in the photograph, Sokka sat next to him in silence. His hand was clutching the ring around his neck again in his fist, pressing it close to his mouth as he peered over Zuko’s shoulder to look. Zuko turned to him to compliment the picture and saw a sad fondness lingering in his eyes."

this is a scene i wrote a while ago thats gonna appear in a much later chapter. but yeah. more yue angst for you guys im so sorry.

from i love you (and that's all i really know):

"Mister Sokka," a little voice wishpered in his ear as he felt tiny pokes on his cheek, "Wake up Mister Sokka."

"Good morning to you too Izumi," Sokka responded wearily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked towards the little girl who was standing on her tippy toes to see over the edge of the bed and poke his face until he rose.

She smiled at him once she realized he was awake.

"Can we have pancakes?" She asked shyly, hiding her mouth just below the edge of the bed as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

That look was going to be dangerous for him later on, he could aready tell.

"Sure thing, Izumi, just let me sleep for five more minutes, mkay?" He asked as he shut his eyes again. He was exhausted from last nights events, and the sun had barely risen. How did Zuko do this?"

this is a scene from the next chapter of this fic. so much sokka and izumi bonding you guys are gonna explode hehehe.

from cherry (the mailee fic i wont shut up about that is now a whopping 19 pages):

"Mai never had to guess with Ty Lee. She always knew when Ty Lee was happy about something because she would use an obnoxious amount of exclamation points. She would send gifs of people or cartoons making outlandish expressions whenever she wanted to react to Mai’s text with a specific facial expression. Sometimes Ty Lee would even send voice memos whenever her thoughts became too long, or she got too excited about a story that her fingers couldn’t type as fast as she could speak."

hehe i love mailee.

from yours (the mailee sorority fic that i promise i did not forget about):

"Mai lifted her head off the pillow again and met Zuko’s eyes. She studied his impassive expression, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. He did seem like he missed Mai and Azula, so maybe he did really just want to catch up with them.

But Mai wasn’t going to give up a golden opportunity like this.

“Tell us everything about the boy toy as well and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Mai said.

Zuko rolled his eyes and sighed, “Ugh, fine. And his name is Sokka by the way.”

“Nuance. You also have to wake up Azula.”

“No chance in hell,” Zuko scoffed, “You’re the roommate and her fellow ‘pong princess,’ wake-up duty is all yours.”

“If she murders me, it’s your fault. She’s a bitch when she’s hungover.”

“Whatever you say, Mai,” Zuko grinned before returning back to his phone."

i have decided that zuko is a little shit for this fic and no one can stop me.

from Where'd All the Time Go? (the yuekka fic that i have severe writers block with that i also promis i have not forgotten about):

"“Sokka I really think you need to take a moment and-”

“I am fine Aang, I don’t have time for a feelings talk right now. Right now I need to find the fucking chief of this damn place.” His words came out harsher than he meant, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on that.

Before Sokka could run off again to continue his search, a hand grabbed his arm. One of Arnook’s advisors, Malina, had started dragging him towards the podium.

“Do you not realize how late you are for this Sokka? The ceremony was supposed to begin with your speech nearly an hour ago-” she hissed at him as she pulled him along through the crowd.

“Malina I’m sorry but I really need to speak with Arnook it is urgent-”

“This damn speech of yours is what’s urgent right now Sokka, you can speak with Arnook later but the guests are getting antsy so you need to give your speech right. Now.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Maline shoved Sokka towards the podium and suddenly all eyes were on him. Every guest in attendance had their focus solely on Sokka."

homeboy is stressed in this scene. things are slowly going to shit in this chapter. i promise i will update this before the end of the year. i swear. im so sorry.

from a currently untitled jetko/sukka boiling rock fic:

"“Oh good, you survived after all,” She said in a mocking tone.

Jet didn’t answer. He knew anything he said would be used against him. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what was happening. But he would be damned if he showed that weakness in front of the fire nation.

“I was told you were more talkative than this,” the girl mused. There was something familiar about her, “my informants were very detailed when discussing your little teashop romance.”

I knew it. Jet snarled in his mind, That bastard betrayed me."

i want this fic to be a little darker but idk how good i am at writing darker fics because i love fluff and humor too much. this could be good angst practice for me.

from a toph and sokka fic that i wrote a while back to help me cope w some shit that i dont know if ill ever post:

"“Sokka? Are you still there?” Toph asked, the slightest hint of concern began to slip into their voice

“Tell me a story,” he was trembling. Despite all of his efforts to sound calm, he knew his voice came out trembling and scratchy and pathetic-

“Is everything okay? You don’t sound too hot,” Toph said through the phone.

Breathe, Sokka, breathe. You don’t want them to be worried, you just need to calm down.

“Please, Toph, I just,” he said through shaky breaths that weren’t nearly deep enough for him to be getting enough oxygen, “I just need a distraction. I just need to hear your voice okay?”"

nonbinary toph anyone?

from a 10 things i hate about you kataang and zukka au:

"“What? Something on my face?” the guy asked deadpanned. He rubbed at his scar as if he were wiping off a smudge of mustard, and Aang’s face went pale.

“Stop scaring the sophomores Zuko, this one’s new. He won’t get your… humor… just yet,” Ms. Wu said as she waved Aang off again.

“I’m hurt that you’d imply I’m not funny, Wu. I’m hilarious,” the senior, Zuko, said as he walked past Aang.

Aang let out a sigh of relief knowing that this Zuko guy didn’t seem all that offended by his awkwardness, and darted out of the room."

zuko is a little shit part 2. the amount of sarcasm i have dripping off of heath ledger zuko is glorious. let zuko be a little shit. i havent added to this in months but when i finish some of my other wips i cant wait to get back to this.

i have more wips and drafts saved but none of them have anything juicy or funny or interesting yet because all of them are like less than three pages so far

but yeah, heres a good chunk of sneaky peakys from my wips!

I hope you liked them!

anyone who wants to do this can totally go for it. imma tag @ambykinns @lumities and @flowers-inthepieshop (only if you all want too!!) because this was fun :)

#liv talks about writing #liv talks ab fanfic #liv wips #liv fics #i love sharing my writing #especially when i have a bit of a block going on with well.... every fic #maybe this will give me inspiration!!!#i love sharing my writing im proud of these little snippets and i hope you all likes them as well :)#atla #avatar: the last airbender

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vennilavee · 4 years

Text

blood, bone, heart

Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)

Summary: you’re a former squad leader, now on levi’s special operations squad. this is the aftermath of your fallen teammates after encountering the Female Titan.

Warnings: death, cursing

Word Count: 3182

A/N: listen i cant get levi out of my head ever since watching AoT. big shout out to @phen0l for inspiring this- honestly the line “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. But if you ever need to be weak, you can be weak in front of me.” inspired this entire story lmao

***

If you had been faster, maybe you could have saved them. Maybe you could have saved someone. If you had been able to rise above your own weak heart, maybe you could have saved them. Maybe their still fresh blood wouldn’t be carelessly splattered across the trees within Titan Forest.

Your own blood begins to drip into your eyes from an open gash on your head. All of your movements feel incredibly slow in the air, the mocking hiss of the gas from your gear whistling into silence.

It’s just you, your dead teammates and the Female Titan in the middle of the forest. You can vaguely hear Eren screaming for you. Screaming for your dead teammates. Screaming for Levi. You hear yourself shouting at Eren to get out of here as you unsheath your blades with a sharp click.

Her eyes are narrowed at you, as if daring you to come forward. You lunge forward, ignoring the black spots in your vision and wondering how this was the moment. How this was the moment that you were surely going to die.

What a way to die, though. Alongside your friends. Your team. Your family.

But Levi. Your Captain. Your Captain who has lost so much. Your Captain who just lost his team, his team that you could do nothing to save.

Rage washes over you, and you hear Eren screaming again. Except it feels much closer this time, the pain reverberating in your ears. Your ODM cables latch on to the shoulders of the Female Titan, your blades are swift, and you’re so close, you can nearly taste the shredding of her muscles-

And then you’re in the air again, an arm around your waist. You’re hurtling through the air, away from the Female Titan. Eren is still screaming- god, won’t that kid just shut up?

Your arms are still outstretched towards the Female Titan and you look up, only to be met with Levi’s unreadable but piercing gaze. Something flickers across his face but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

You realize that it’s not Eren who’s been screaming this whole time. It’s you. Your throat is certainly bleeding by now, at the very least, it feels sore but it means nothing as you glance over Levi’s shoulder and see Petra’s body slumped against the tree. She’s facing the sky with empty eyes and it makes your blood go cold. Petra had always loved being outdoors- every time the two of you were outside, whether it was for training or finding wood, she told you to quit complaining about whatever chore it was, because at least you were able to be outside.

Her eyes had always been full of wonder and been brighter than the sky itself whenever she was in the presence of a bright, blue sky. You think she’s brighter than the sun itself.

And now her body is going cold, rotting at the floor of this forest of Hell.

You can’t see Oluo or Eld’s mangled bodies in the trees. You can’t see Gunther hanging from his broken cables. You only see the Female Titan, and you only see a distant, cold rage that buries itself deep in your throat. It rips through you with the force of a thousand blades and Levi tightens his hold when you start fighting against his grip with murder in your eyes.

Their bodies are fading away from your sight, meshing with the trees and shadows but you need to go back.

“I need to kill her,” You say hoarsely, the first sentence you’ve said since Levi found you.

“No,” Levi says easily, and you push against him again.

“I can do it. I need to do it!” You exclaim and wince when your side rubs against Levi’s cape.

“No. You’re out of gas, you’re bleeding from your head and you have a concussion. Our team is dead and I won’t-” Levi cuts himself off with a soft ‘tch’, “No. Be quiet. Listen.”

He says it so easily, as if his team being dead doesn’t shatter him. No matter how used to it he is, it always hurts like the first time. He doesn’t allow his mind to wander, ignoring past faces to focus on yours.

A bright flash of electricity, of green and yellow, and then a roar of pain that could only belong to a Titan.

“Eren,” You whisper. Levi says nothing, only looking ahead through the trees. His slate grey eyes are as distant as ever and you take a page out of your Captain’s book and swallow the immense loss. You store the memories of Petra’s hauntingly empty eyes, of Oluo’s half broken face, of Eld’s mangled legs, of Gunther with a hole in his chest. You store them in a place that you’ll open later, when you have no other choice to.

For now, you hold onto Levi as he whisks you away to safety.

***

You’ve seen death. You’ve seen the death of comrades, of enemies, of teammates, of acquaintances over the years. Every time you think you can stomach it for the next time, it feels like the first time. This feels different, though. Maybe it’s because Levi squad has been one of the longest standing teams in the Survey Corps thus far. Maybe you had gotten comfortable, maybe cocky, maybe invincible with the Wings of Freedom on your back.

You had been in the Survey Corps longer than any of them- you and Erwin had been in the same training group. You’re a veteran of the Corps by all means and had been a Squad Leader under Commander Shadis. But when Erwin had become Commander, he asked you to join the Special Operations Team, to be headed by Levi.

It made sense. Despite the years you’d put into the Survey Corps, you know Levi was meant to be Captain. Mike and Hange had teased you, telling you that it must have stung to know that a newcomer in comparison to you was promoted before you. And now you’d be his subordinate.

You had taken it in stride, telling them that Levi would have to earn your respect before you’d ever call him Captain. But in reality, he had your respect. All of it. You’ve seen him in action, you’ve seen him make difficult calls. You’ve seen him from the beginning, from when Erwin had brought him up from the Underground District. He’s always had your respect.

As a veteran, you should know better than to fight Levi on trying to go back for your team. You should know better than to recklessly face off with the Female Titan when you had no gas and were clearly injured.

But this time. This time, it was different. You’ve known helplessness, but this pales in comparison.

Your breaths are steady against Levi’s neck, eyes focused behind him and around the periphery. The sun is heavy against your back as she breathes down your neck. You look up, eyes tearing from the intensity of it. The adrenaline begins to wear off, black dots coating your vision and Levi feels you slumping against him. He looks down at you, seeing your eyes starting to close.

He calls your name, shaking you awake, “Stay awake. That’s an order.”

You groan and rub the side of your face, “Yes, Captain.”

“We’re close,” Levi says, looking ahead and you nod as you try to fight off the urge to close your eyes.

***

Levi has never known you to be reckless. You’re many things- quick on your feet, intuitive and seasoned, but not reckless. So he doesn’t know what to think when he finds you flying towards the Female Titan with your blades in front of you. With blood dripping down your face and pain being ripped from your throat.

If he was listening from far away, he would almost think that your screams are the screams of a Titan.

He doesn’t know what to think of the bloodlust in your eyes and the already settling grief underneath. You’ve been around long enough to know how to grieve.

He supposes he doesn’t know what to think of you right now because he feels it, too. Tendrils of a familiar pain and anguish squeeze around his heart, curling into him in a way that shouldn’t feel as much like home as it does.

But Levi hates seeing it painted in the lines of your face. He has to get you out of there before you get yourself killed.

He could handle it if you did get yourself killed, he thinks grimly, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to carry your broken body back to the base. He doesn’t want to put you on the pyre, with your other fallen teammates. Levi has to see you blink at him in annoyance at least once more. Levi has to feel you playfully shove him during training at least once more. Levi has to see you rag on the younger recruits at least once more. Levi has to have another cup of tea with you once more.

Today is not the day that he’ll lose you. Maybe tomorrow, but not today.

Just as the Female Titan is about to squash you with her hand, you lower your blades and a flash of acceptance settles on your face. Just as you begin to accept that you’re not making it out of this alive, Levi swoops in and it takes a minute for it to register in your mind.

If this was any other time, you would make a joke. Maybe call him your mysterious hero and make eyes at him. Or you’d chew him out for thinking he had to save you so dramatically- this isn’t a fairy tale, Levi, you don’t need to be my prince.

But this isn’t any other time, is it? Levi catches a glimpse of Petra. Oruo. Gunther. Eld.

Levi has never known you to be reckless, but he mostly understands. This is your family. This is his family.

But still, even as he holds you close to him, he can’t help but think. You should know better.

***

You can’t seem to face Levi in the coming days. What were you thinking that day? Did you have a death wish?

You can hear your Captain’s words ringing in your ears. The day the Survey Corps had returned to base, he had scolded you. You think it’s the most he’s ever said at one time-

“Do you have a death wish?” He asks you calmly, eyes striking and icy. You remember the first time these eyes had seen you. You felt exposed and vulnerable. It feels that way once more.

“Levi-” You protest but he cuts you off.

“Do you have a death wish?” Levi repeats, “You think I want to find my second in command with her blades down like that? What were you thinking?”

A pause. Levi thinks you might walk away from him but your eyes turn to steel.

“You should have left me there. I should have died with them,” You say evenly, eyes never leaving his, “I couldn’t save them. It’s only fair.”

“Fair?” Levi scoffs, “Don’t be so… naive. Nothing is fair about any of this, and you know it. You’re lucky I was there-”

“Lucky? You didn’t see them die, Levi. You didn’t hear Eren. You didn’t see Gunther strangled with his own cables. Eld and Uruo get their faces ripped off. Petra’s neck breaking.”

You swear his eyes soften for a moment.

“All I could do was watch,” You whisper, voice cracking, “All I did was watch. I don’t have a death wish, but fuck Levi. Being alive is hard right now. I can’t find a…”

I can’t find a reason. He can hear it in your voice.

“Get some sleep,” Levi says, not unkindly. You nod and salute your Captain, heading back to your room.

You lay awake all night, Petra’s lifeless eyes haunting you.

You’re eating alone in the mess hall, acutely aware that the new recruits are whispering and looking in your direction. You don’t have the energy to tell them to fuck off, or bark at them and ask why they’re wasting time. You hear Eren telling them to shut up and you manage to look up and offer him a smile.

You push your food around on the plate disinterestedly. Why is that day haunting you like this? You’ve lost close teammates before. You’re grieved and moved on relatively quickly each time. Because that was what you were taught in the Survey Corps. To keep moving on. To not regret, because regret makes you question your decisions. It makes you weak.

But how can you not regret? How can you not regret when every time you blink, you see dead faces behind your eyelids?

Maybe it’s a lifetime of suppressing the death of everyone around you. Maybe it’s survivor’s guilt. Either way, you feel like you’re drowning and you can’t seem to find your way to the surface the way you’ve managed to before.

You were out of line with Levi. Telling him he wasn’t there to see his team die. That was a low blow, considering what he’s shared with you about his own past. You need to apologize to him. If anyone would understand, it’s Levi.

Your cold, harsh, unwelcoming Captain. Your Captain that you would die for, though you’re not sure what that means anymore.

***

Hange has already told Levi twice that you’re a shell of yourself. That over the days, you’ve become withdrawn in a way she’s never seen before. Dark circles under your dark eyes are pronounced, your eyes are red with fatigue, and you look like you’re about to fall over.

Despite the brown of your skin, you look ashen and frail. It’s a look Levi hasn’t seen on you and a look that he doesn’t want to get used to.

Levi tells her to go away and to stop worrying about his team. Hange rolls her eyes but lets him be. She focuses her efforts on finding you and keeping you company, rather than scolding Levi.

Levi thinks you’ll snap out of it soon enough. But he is acutely aware when you don’t snap out of it. You and Levi were somewhat close, he would like to think. On days when you knew he was going through a tough time reconciling the present with the past, you always picked up on it and were there with tea or something stronger. Depending on the day. You weren’t afraid to approach him and while being considered Humanity’s Greatest had intimidated you for a while, it didn’t stop you from poking fun at him or from being a friend.

You annoyed him at first, when he was forced to fight with you by Erwin. You were fast, smart in the air, and were good at reading situations on the fly. But you also smiled a lot, you fed into Hange’s insanity. You had that quiet type of caring, the type where you gave everyone’s plates an extra glance to make sure they were well fed.

It was annoying. Did everyone here need to be babied?

But then he came to realize- the small things were all there was left to cherish. The small things- like the laughter of the mess hall during dinner, the cleanliness of his office, the health of his fellow soldiers, and the fact that you make tea just how he likes it.

He wondered for a while how you knew what he liked. Then he realized that you’re more observant than he gave you credit for.

***

Rather than lay in bed and stare at the ceiling with only dead faces to keep you company, you decide to brew some tea. Two cups worth of tea to be exact.

You owe Levi an apology. Now, when you think of that day, you think of Levi’s timeliness. You think of his arms around you, holding you close. You think of him telling you to stay awake. You think of the sound of his cables piercing through the air, with the Titans as background noise. You think of how you were focused on him, and him only.

You think of how despite the layers of dirt, grime, and blood on him, he still somehow smelled so clean. And so him. You think Petra might laugh at you for your thoughts, and that makes you smile.

It’s the middle of the night, the moon hidden by the clouds but the stars illuminating the sky. Moonlight filters in through the window, leaving a silvery hue on your skin.

Two soft knocks at his bedroom door. You wonder if he knows it’s you. You can’t tell if he does when he opens the door, his face as impassive as ever. Levi is only in his white shirt and black pants, but you focus on him.

“What’s this?” He asks, lips pulled back into something resembling a smirk.

“An apology in the form of tea,” You murmur. He pulls the door open further, indicating that you can come in.

“Can’t sleep?” Levi prompts.

You sit on his bed as if you’ve been there a hundred times before.

“Know the feeling?” You snort, offering him his cup of tea. Levi sits next to you, and you ignore his leg brushing with yours. He waits for you to say something, but your eyes are cast into your cup of tea.

“I’m sorry,” You begin, “For saying what I said that day. It’s not fair to throw their deaths in your face like that.”

“You were angry. It has to go somewhere. I can take it, I’m your Captain. That’s my job.”

“Yes, but…” You pause, unsure of your words, “Who takes it for you?”

The question makes Levi pause and you wonder if you’ve crossed a line. He says nothing, but he doesn’t tell you to get out. So that’s a good sign. He just drinks his tea.

“You call me your second in command,” You whisper, reaching for him, “I can take it, too.”

Levi turns his head to face you, slate grey eyes seemingly blue in the moonlight. You’re stricken with the urge to push his hair back and you do. Or at least, you attempt to. He catches your wrist just as you’re about to touch him. He’s only a few breaths away- you can see the sharpness of his cheekbones and the reflection of the moonlight in his eyes. His grip is gentle, reminding you a little bit of that day when he had saved you from sure death.

“Don’t do that again,” Levi whispers, something soft cracking and swirling in his eyes, “I can’t find you like that again. I can’t-”

“I know,” You reply with a small smile, “I know. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better. I’m glad you found me.”

“Look forward with me,” Levi murmurs, thumb rubbing your hand, “Look forward with me.”

His touch sends an unfamiliar electric calmness through you and you nod. Levi takes another sip of his tea, hand warm over yours as you both sit in silence. He won’t lose you today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #phen0l is a goddess

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powerosewaterpuff · 3 years

Note

YO ITS ME AGAIN , so um , some fear gas content in your au please , like fear gased dick and big bro jason comfort him

i genuinely have no excuse as to why this is so late, but oh my god school has been up my ass lately and i haven’t been able to get back into the groove of writing so I took this as an opportunity to build on that a bit. so tysm for the prompt! i rlly rly appreciate it hehe and again this had no excuse to be as late as it was ngl. but again this is my robin reversal au with jason being the oldest (i cant think of a good early hero name though ugh!) and dick being younger than him so enjoy! also so dick isn’t officially robin (he only does that when jason dies), but the persona still exists and he will join on major missions but bruce still has him in training so casual patrols are a no unless they have no other option for back up yk?

tw// there’s a slight mention of needles! it’s super short but i wanna be on the safe side as well as mild mention of cuts and scratches!

it took prodding. begging. and absolutely pleading to get bruce to agree to let jason and dick patrol together on their own. dick and or robin was not a constant on patrols with jason and bruce, as bruce wanted to ensure dick was fully equppied and trained before rushing into the field. it didn’t matter how much dick whined, or complained, or did as twice as many flipping kicks in training, the answer was always a solid no unless supervised or it was necessary. so it was a massive stretch to assume that bruce would agree to let them patrol together. they were practically in shock as bruce gave a nod after a few moments of silence. he even surprised himself. maybe it was the puppy eyed stare (mostly dick), or the reassurances that alfred would be on their comms the entire time, or even the full promise by jason that everything would be alright, but something made bruce say yes. more field training would be more than beneficial for dick anyways, (and that bright smile his youngest gave him and tight squeeze of a hug from his eldest didn’t hurt either).

the only promise jason was going to be able to fulfil was that scarecrow was going to rue the fucking day he decided to rear his ugly face out of arkham. it didn’t matter that bruce was beating the living shit out of him, holding no punches. jason was still brimming with rage. he hopped rooftop to rooftop, whipping his head around wildly as he searched for a fear gassed blur of neon colours. he wished he had been fucking a nanosecond faster, to reach out and pull dick from the blast of fear gas that swam through his nose and induced him in this fucking crazed frenzy. dick had just taken off his mask, right as jason was telling him to wait before bruce gave them the signal, and now jason was scouring the streets of gotham trying to find his brother. (he was going to fucking break scarecrow’s face, if bruce hadn’t already)

jason’s life was never one attributed with luck, it seemed like every possible slot in his pile was stacked firmly against him. except for when out of the corner of his vision he saw a stumbling mesh of a yellow cape climb onto a roof to his left. jason, took this as his initiative to attempt to stealthily sneak up next to dick, using his dark costume as an advantage.

he crept gently over to the building as he saw dick stumble onto his knees and he winced a bit as blood began to trickle down dick’s leg from the gashes beginning to form. dick was looking around wildly, almost in a desperate search for something. now, jason would’ve waited. he should’ve waited. bruce has drilled into his mind that dealing with victims of fear gas had to be done as meticulously and carefully as possible. dick shouldn’t have been any different, jason was able to hold to hold himself back. or he should’ve been able to.

it wasn’t until he saw dick scream out for his mother in a guttural rasp and leap towards the railings of the rooftop, did jason feel his legs take off as he stretched out, and managed to secure an arm around dick firmly. dick screeched even louder, wailing for his mother as he dug his nails into jason’s arms. jason gritted his teeth tightly but held on, because fuck that hurt. dick struggled and pushed, stamping his foot against jason’s leg and attempting to squirm out of his hold. but jason held on.

jason began attempting to reason with dick, he leaned his head down and gently placed it against dick’s. he murmured a bunch of fucking nothing as dick sobbed his throat raw. jason leaned closer to dick’s ear as dick began to shake in fear rather than anger and shut his eyes tight.

“dick? it’s jason, it’s just me. we’re on some fucking rooftop somewhere, and you are safe. okay? i’m holding you, and you’re safe, nothing is going to happen. bruce is gonna be here soon, and everything is going to be okay. i know you’re seeing god knows what, but i’m gonna get you out of this alright? i-i promise.”

jason couldn’t say he wasn’t dumbfounded when dick stopped angrily squirming around and began pressing his face into jason’s chest, with fat tears streaming down his face as he let out a wet sob. jason hesitantly wrapped his slightly bleeding arms around dick even tighter, curling up around him as he tried to push out the sound of dick’s sobs. he was never exactly good at dealing with dicks tears, he hated them so fucking much.

it didn’t take long for batman to arrive on the scene, but it was a scene he didn’t exactly like. his oldest son was cradling his youngest son as he heaved and sobbed. bruce silently stalked over, tapping jason on the shoulder as he waved his hands quietly, indicating that he could take dick off of his hands. jason was, not surprisingly, hesitant. (that untrustful hesitance was something, no matter how far jason did with his recovery, would always exist. that need to protect himself, or anyone he could care about no matter who it was against. that deeply rooted and innate need for self preservation, it marred jason’s soul with broad brush strokes. fading, but never leaving. )

jason almost shook himself into realization, realizing it was batman who was standing in front of him, and not someone of possible harm. he slowly unfurled his arms around dick, but was once again left dumbfounded when dick gripped onto the back of his uniform even tighter. the once muffled sobs got louder as dick desperately tried to hold onto jason. jason felt bruce’s stare, fucking digging into him, but he found himself not caring as he quickly curled back around dick. rocking back and forth, not bothering with the useless platitudes but keeping a firm lock on the back of dick’s neck and his waist. he peered up at batman and caught his gaze, and with a hushed agreement, they nodded at each other.

jason looped his arms around dick’s legs, his face twisting into a deeply set frown as dick’s sobs began morphing into hacking coughs, harsh and volatile. he managed to get himself standing upright as he pressed a kiss onto dick’s tear stained check, whilst still rubbing his back. the pain of others always had physically manifestions on jason. he fucking hated it. his mother would be splayed out on the couch, muttering incoherent fucking nonsense and jason would feel bile sting at the back of his throat, almost tempting him to kneel over and lurch as his body shook violently. and now, hearing dick’s fragmented breaths and shaky sobs, he felt like doing just that.

it had taken an effort, to get jason and dick safely off of the roof, and at the end bruce opted into scooping jason up who had dick clinging onto him like a koala, and simply carrying them both into the batmobile. alfred has already been long informed of the situation and had been able to promptly prepare an antidote that would be ready for their arrival. that did not mean, of course, that dick was compliant in taking the antidote. it took shushing and holding and soft whispers to get him to stop squirming enough for the needle to safely prick through his skin. alfred had opted to use little superman stickers afterwards, they were always dick’s favourite.

it had taken a while for dick to become conscious again, as alfred had added just a touch of sedatives to the antidote. just to help dick relax. when he did wake up, the world around him looking slightly fuzzy around the corners, he found himself encased in two sets of arms. was he in bruce’s bed? dick attempted to sit up but was met with a hand in his face pushing him back down, he turned his head to the side to be met with hazy lime green eyes and a lazy smile.

“dickie, sleep. now. you’ll wake up bruce— dont look at me like that he’s a light sleeper and you fucking know it. now go back to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.”

“I just woke up though, why am I going back to slee-.”

“sh. your voice is too loud this early in the morning.”

“you’re so annoyin—and get your hand off of me!”

“make me—slapping my hand isn’t doing anything, bud.”

“shut up. i didn’t ask.”

“you’re still not making me”

“i’ll kick you.”

“do it. c’mon. do it right now.”

“fine—stop pinching my cheeks, jay! ow, ow, ow.”

“stop kicking me, then i’ll stop pinching.”

“that’s not fair! who made you the king of rules, assh-.”

“boys.”

“sorry bruce.”

“i’m sorry, B.”

“i’ll whoop your ass tomorrow.”

“I’d like to see you try, you old sack of bones.”

and with a roll of the eyes, a feathery soft kiss was pressed into dick’s forehead. a soft smile curled at dicks lips afterwards, a warm fire nestling in his heart drove the lingering hazy darkness away. dick nuzzled closer into the bed sheets as the two sets of arms encasing him only held on tighter. all curled under the fluffy bedsheets as the morning sun began to rise on the horizon, seeping through the cracks of the dark curtains as a kaleidoscope of colours painted the early morning sky.

fin.

i rlly should’ve made this longer with a little more detail but i haven’t gotten back into the groove of creative writing yet so take this with a grain of salt lmao. but anywho tysm for reading and tysm for the prompt! again i rlly wanna get back into creative writing so hopefully i’ll written sm shit? hopefully? maybe? idk? but again tysm for reading and i am so so sorry for how long this took :]!!

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

The Come Down

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: It's hard for Roger to unwind after the excitement of playing a gig. But you have a favourite way to help him.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), but also quite fluffy, rough sex, enough to leave marks but nothing overly kinky, some hair pulling, scratching, shower sex.

Words: 4226

A/N: This started life as a blurb about brushing Roger's hair - a thought I haven't been able to shake for at least a week - but gradually turned into a full on smut fest lmao. I guess Rog just has that effect on me...

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

It’s Pavlovian, the way you react to Roger’s playing. If he wasn’t so charming you’d curse him for it. How all you have to hear is him counting everyone into the first song of the night and already you’re thinking about later, about what happens when you get home. Most weeks are the same though you’d never call it a routine. That sounds too boring, too predictable and Roger is anything but boring and predictable. But there is a pattern forming. And it all starts with that fucking count. The way he twirls his drumstick as he settles himself to play. He’s wired from the beginning, from even before they get on stage. Bouncing on the balls of his feet as they get ready, endlessly joking and playfully teasing. So much so that your side hurts from laughing just a little bit. And that energy, that excitement, only grows as they play. Feeding off the noise of the smoke-filled bar and the way people cheer and his mates playing beside him. You watch him every show, close to the front though a little to the side of the stage. He can’t see you anyway and being out of the main crush of people makes it easier to get to the bar again if you want another drink. Not that you ever do. You’re too entranced by it all. The way the four boys perform, make it look so effortless, though you’ve heard the spats and hours of practice that prove it’s not. The way the crowd follows them and spurs them on. Girls with eyes glued to the fingers roaming over frets and plucking at strings. Voices slurred with alcohol or rough from yelling or husky from smoking, all mixed as they call out names of favourite songs and cheer no matter what gets played next. Your attention wanders back to Roger more than anyone else though. Hands rapidly flying from one drum to another, his whole body caught up in the movement, twirling his sticks between notes because he can and he wants everyone to know it. His head tipped back, flung forward, hair and eyes wild. You don’t quite understand how his hair doesn’t get in his way, doesn’t annoy him with the way it flicks around every time he moves. But it mustn't because he refuses to cut it whenever you make the suggestion.

By the time their set is drawing to a close you’re feeling pretty fired up yourself, high from second hand smoke and the bass drum vibrating through your bones and the way Roger’s glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his shirt open, the necklace you gave him glinting as it catches what little light there is. The final notes ring out, overwhelmingly loud, and you know that’s your cue. Ducking under arms and squeezing between people as you push back to the bar to order the usual after gig round of drinks. The barman knows you by now, so you don’t have to say anything before he’s pulling out glasses, a mixture of shots and pints and a couple of cocktails thrown in for colour, and by the time the selection is laid out before you the boys have materialised at your side. Roger is quick to wrap his arm around your waist as you all down a few shots and then grab the rest of your drinks and head to a table. The lack of space between you and he doesn’t stop a couple of bold women from approaching, flirting with him as they congratulate the band on another great show. He thanks them, polite but uninterested in whatever they’re trying to offer, and pushes on with you tucked tightly to his side.

For a while you just hang out but Roger’s still completely amped. Half his beer is gone the first time he brings the glass to his lips and he fidgets in his seat, restless energy personified. He’d play a whole second set if he was asked. No one asks. Instead he crosses his legs, un-crosses them, slouches low, sits up, arm on the back of your chair then dropped to grab your hand then rubbing your knee then tapping the top of the table. His laugh is frequently heard cutting through the noisy conversations around you as he leans across the table, sits back, slides lower in the chair and then pops up straighter once more. Never still for long. It’s a relief when Brian suggests packing everything into the van. You help them wind up cords, carry amps out the back door. When everything’s packed away there’s more drinking and joking around. Roger’s hands wander a little further, unashamedly squeezing your arse or sliding up your thigh until you remind him where you are. The room feels ten times warmer than it did before and you wouldn’t have stopped him except your sat across from his best mates and something about the way he’s touching you makes you think he doesn’t have the cognitive awareness to recognise that. He’s just got too much adrenaline, too much energy he doesn’t know what to do with, fogging up his brain. He obviously has ideas though, the same ideas you’ve been trying to ignore since he first sat down at his kit. He leans towards your ear, asks if you’re ready to leave. You nod, say goodnight to the others. Roger tells them to stay out of mischief, voice a little louder than it needs to be. “Look who’s talking,” “They’ll be no mischief on my watch, I’ll look after him.” “Y/N you’re an enabler,” “As long as he’s not getting arrested,” “Oi, fuck off,” “Quick Y/N, get him home before he slags off the wrong person,” There’s laughter and a round of see you laters, a few nicknames the boys wouldn’t want their mothers to hear, before you exit the bar, Roger’s arm around you once more.

His voice is still loud on the drive home and he taps out a beat on the steering wheel, antsy, eager to continue the night unobserved by everyone else. Your ears are still ringing so you can only imagine what’s going on in his head – a play by play of the best parts of the set probably. A song he likes comes on the radio so he turns it up loud, winds his window down, grinning at you, letting the whole neighbourhood hear the whine of the guitars. “We should cover this one,” he half shouts, accelerating a little, the rhythm of his tapping fingers changing to match the music, “Fuck! We should cover it! Bri’d go feral for the chance to play it,” You agree though you aren’t sure he hears you. You’re lucky he hasn’t started air drumming along. It happened once before, his foot suddenly hitting the break as he put it down in time with the song’s beat. You’d only been going slow then so all you’d had to deal with was a honk from the car behind you. Roger apologised, promised to be more careful, and you laughed it off. It’s a bit of a wonder he hasn’t ever repeated the mistake with how into the music he gets, how absentmindedly he drives, especially after a show and a few drinks. Muscle memory and second nature. Maybe he shouldn’t be driving but you live close enough that it doesn’t even cross your mind to call a cab. The song fades out and is replaced by yours. The song that was playing in the second hand store you’d met at. Roger takes his eyes off the road to find yours, smiles, clearly thinking about that day. You’d been trying on a dress you’d found, modelling it for a friend to get her opinion, when Roger had complemented your look, suggested adding a fur coat to it. He offered his own but said he’d need your number so he could get it back. You’d laughed at the line but decided you could afford to reward his boldness and written your number on the back of his hand. The coat had kept you warm for the rest of the day and many since. You’re about to say something about the memory, ask Roger if he really thought the pickup line would work (judging by the look on his face when you’d pulled a pen from your bag and grabbed his hand, he hadn’t) but he’s already singing along, hand squeezing your thigh again as his attention shifts back to the road. He glances at you a few more times, encourages you to sing along by holding his closed fist in front of your face like it’s a microphone. He keeps singing as he pulls up in front of your apartment, turns off the engine, steps out of the car. You meet him at the edge of the driveway where he grabs your hand and twirls you around in a circle, both of you giggling. And then he’s heading inside, up the stairs, pulling you along with him.

Your heart is beating faster now, fully aware of what’s coming, like one of Roger’s drum solos playing out against your chest. Roger doesn’t disappoint. He opens the door with enough force to make it bounce off the wall behind it, helping it shut with a kick from his foot. His hands are well and truly occupied, resuming their path over your body, grabbing and squeezing. There’s a flurry of movement from his hands, like he isn’t sure where to start or rather like he’s eager to start everywhere all at once, before he focuses in on your shirt and getting it off of you. It hits the ground carelessly as you walk backwards, further into the apartment, but Roger’s fingers are already working at the fly of your jeans. He gets the button undone, gets distracted trying to kiss you without overbalancing. His hands slide over your stomach, your sides, down to grab your arse and pull you into him. It’s only then he remembers the zip on your pants and moves one hand back to pull it down. You start removing his clothes but you’re too slow for his liking. He has energy to burn and he wants to burn it right away. No stopping to savour the moment, no slowly working up to the big finale. No, he wants to be in you already. And it’s impossible to pretend you haven’t been thinking about exactly that since right back at the start of the evening. You kick your jeans across the floor as Roger tears his own clothes off. There’s enough time for half a breath before he spins you around to face the wall, pushes your back to make you bend at the waist. He doesn’t bother to remove your underwear at all. Fiddling with the clasp of your bra would be too time consuming and why bother pushing panties down when you can pull them to the side instead. He laughs as he realises just how damp the crotch of your knickers is. “Good. Don’t need to worry about fingers.” You gasp, tense up as he plunges into you. His grip on your hip is tight enough that the tips of his fingers have turned white, keeping you in place as he roughly fucks you. A small scratch appears in the wallpaper as you try to find a sturdy grip. An impossible task. You have to make do as best you can, relying on Roger to hold you in place. “Love how wet you get from watching us play,” “Just you, Rog,” you whimper as he uses you. He laughs, somehow grasps you even tighter, “Good. My needy little groupie.” He nips at your neck and you turn your head, lips opening with a whimper as he pushes himself deeper into your heat. The kiss is messy, teeth colliding as he tries to release all that pent up energy he’s been carrying around since he exited the stage. You don’t cum that first time, you never do. It’s about Roger’s need for release, Roger’s excess energy, not yours. But you don’t mind. He’s gone above and beyond for you plenty of times before and he’ll do the same plenty more to come. The least you can do is be a pliant hole for him to get off in after each gig.

You stay bent over, palms pressed firmly against the wall, as Roger gives a few extra thrusts, prolonging his own pleasure, before he pulls out. You stay there as he leans against you almost hidden by a curtain of his own hair, panting heavily in your ear, until he can find it in him to stand up. You stay there, with his hand on your back to keep you in place until he sees his cum dribble from your cunt. He’s calmed a bit, the bounce in his step a little less pronounced, but he can be worn out further. He needs more, needs to fully come down from the high of playing, if he wants to get a wink of sleep. When you regain your full height and turn to face him, he kisses you. He almost catches you off guard with it, making you pull in a sharp breath as his lips meet yours and he presses you into the wall. You feel completely breathless when he pulls back, dizzy from the taste of him. You both laugh softly as you look at each other, still so close you’re breathing each other’s air. “You’re sweaty,” you say softly, , dragging one palm down his chest, pouting a little. The statement is fact but it’s also code for please keep fucking me. It’s the sexy kind of sweaty. “That’s what happens when you play drums and then come home and fuck a slut,” You try to hide the shiver his tone sends along your spine, how hungry for more one little degrading name can make you. Unsuccessfully judging by the way Roger winks at you. He knows you too well, knows which buttons to push to turn you into the needy slut he so enjoys using and you so enjoy being for him. Not that it takes much to get you there, especially after he’s dropped a quick load in you and left you eager for your own release. If you had the space you’d drop to your knees to clean his cock with your tongue, taste yourself on him. But he’s still got you up against the wall, boxed in by his arms, so instead you bite your lip and give him a look that you hope comes across as either sexy innocence or sultry seductress. He laughs again, leans into your ear, “You need it that bad, love?” You just nod as he catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently tugs. There’s no point pretending otherwise. “You’ve wanted it all night, haven’t you?” He pouts back at you, teasing, mocking you for being so easy, “Let’s give her what she wants then.” He’s hasn’t quite finished speaking when he grabs your hand and pulls you into the kitchen. Sometimes you make it to the bedroom, sometimes you don’t. Tonight there’s no chance, or at least not until you’ve taken him a few times. He clears off the small square table where you eat most of your meals with a sweep of his arm, sheets of uni notes and scrawled ideas for the band fluttering to the floor, beaten there by the loud thump of one of his biology textbooks. The moment the surface is free he’s lifting you onto it, pulling your underpants off as you focus on your bra. When it too has joined the mess on the floor you lie back, arms around Roger’s neck to keep him close, the cold pendant hanging from his necklace making you shiver as it gets caught between you. He kisses you again, bites your lip with a smile and then dips his head towards your chest instead. You twist the ends of his sweat damp hair around your fingers as he enters you again. It’s not quite the same as when he took you against the wall moments before but it’s still rough, fast, hard. The first time he fucked you like that you were surprised such an angelic, pretty, soft boy could be such a devil. Biting you, pulling on your hair, leaving you with marks from how tight he held you. But you left him with marks too, nails digging into his arms and back, tugging on his hair as much as he tugged on yours. He’d just laughed when he saw the scratches in the mirror. Laughed and told you he loved you for the first time. A lot of firsts that day. He says it again now, words gasped between rapid breaths and those little whines he makes. You’d say it back except you’re not sure how to form words anymore, aside from fuck and god and his name if he’s lucky. He doesn’t mind though, he always enjoys making you speechless. You moan as he mouths at your neck, pounding into you like a fucking jackhammer, and he raises his head just enough to gloat. “Feels good doesn’t it love?” You’d call him an arse if he’d just slow down and let you breathe, a cocky bastard, a big-headed prick. You must manage to stutter one of them out because Roger responds. “T-think you mean epic – fucking – shag,” there’s a few panted breaths and then an order to rub your clit and you don’t even consider disobeying, slipping a hand between your bodies to find it. Your so close already, wound up beyond belief, eyes screwed shut and body arching as you moan. It only takes a few more moments for your climax to hit, accompanied by a violent thumping from the other side of the wall that you barely hear and that Roger only laughs at.

When you can open your eyes again they meet Roger’s. He’s still leaning over you, both palms braced against the table top, but he lowers himself a little to kiss you, smiling against your lips. You mewl as he pulls out of you once more but he swallows the sound. Slowly he retreats, pushes his hair back from his face and then takes your hand to help you sit up. He stays standing between your legs, kisses you a few more times as you both relearn how to breathe properly. His nose bumps against your cheek as he finds your lips once more, like a cat displaying affection. It’s a much softer kiss. “How’re you feeling?” “Mmhmm, good,” your voice sounds raspy to you so you swallow as best you can before saying more, “need a shower.” He laughs again, a soft puff of air against your mouth as he rests his forehead against yours, “Always so practical.” “One of us has to be,” “So you keep saying. D’you think you can stand?” “Let’s find out. Get ready to catch me.” Roger helps you down, helps you stand on shaky legs, helps you walk to the bathroom. He insists on helping you into the shower too, saying he feels responsible for your lack of mobility since he’s the one who fucked you so well. You bat his shoulder but let him accompany you into the bathroom and under the steaming water. “Mr Johnson next door hates us by the way,” he said it with a grin, looking very happy with himself, “Think we might have been overheard,” another laugh, his hand sliding from your waist to press against your pussy. You lean against Roger as his fingers rub over you, collecting the evidence of the evening so far, sliding along your slit before pressing into you. “Think we can piss everyone off a little more though, don’t you,” You agree with a soft moan, the sound echoing around the small bathroom as Roger pulls his fingers free, lifts your leg, slides into you once again, pressing you against the cold tiles on the wall. Its much slower that time. Partly because of the location, partly because Roger isn’t as hyped as he was before you got home. He holds you tightly though as you whine into his neck, his fingers on your clit. The noise makes your head spin, the drops of water hitting the floor of the shower, his grunts and encouraging words mixed with your own sighs and moans, all of it bouncing around the room, layered over each other. Your orgasm builds relatively slowly, kept alive by the constant pressure around your clit more than the cock buried in you. And Roger doesn’t chase his release like before, doesn’t thrust into you forcefully. Rather, he just holds you as close as possible, bucking his hips a little but mostly just enjoying the way you clench around him as you get closer to the edge. He swears in response to the way you tighten, warns you he’s close. You reach up and drag your fingers through his hair, press your lips to the base of his throat. He doesn’t hold out much longer, running out of energy to maintain control like that, pressing you firmly against the wall as he fills you again. His fingers fall from your clit as he shudders through his release but it’s only a momentary lapse, the pressure back even as you whine at the loss. You both know you’re close, Roger leaning into your ear to tell you to let go, to cum for him. When it does hit, it’s not an earth-shattering orgasm. You don’t see stars, don’t scream, don’t collapse in an exhausted heap. You let out a soft whine against Roger’s skin as warmth spreads through you, calm and nice. He rubs his hand over your hip until you let go of his hair, let your foot drop back to the floor. The steady stream of water reminds you where you are as Roger kisses the top of your head. He asks how you feel now, stops hovering quite so close when you say you’re fine to stand on your own. But he doesn’t go further than the corner of the shower, watching as you wash your hair and lather yourself in soap, just in case. He gives you a hand out when you’re clean but stays under the shower himself while you get changed and take care of your post-sex routine. When you glance back at him he’s got his eyes closed, head tilted back, relaxing.

You’re sitting in bed, a book open in your lap, though you aren’t really reading it, when you hear the shower close off, the soft pad of wet feet, and Roger appears in the doorway. He digs around in his clothes for a minute, finds some clean underwear and slips them on quietly. He smiles at you, a soft sleepy sort of a smile, as he takes the towel to his head, trying to wring as much water from his hair as possible. When he can’t be bothered with it anymore he lets the towel drop to the floor, a problem for tomorrow much like the rest of the mess you made through the apartment. A trail of lust fuelled destruction you’ll need to pick up and put away. He grabs a hairbrush from the top of the chest of draws and sits beside you, trying to hide a yawn. “Tired?” “No,” Roger lies, settling himself and beginning to work the brush through his locks. “Well I am so if you were planning on starting another round you’ll have to do it on your own,” He shakes his head as he tugs the brush through a particularly knotted section, “I’ll keep – fuck – I’ll keep that in mind. You got any spare socks I can use?” You laugh but Roger winces as the brush gets caught once again. “Jesus, knew I should have used more conditioner,” “You want some help with that?” “Yes please,” You mark your page and place the book to the side before pushing yourself to your knees and shuffling closer to Roger. He turns around so his back is to you, handing the brush over his shoulder. Slowly and carefully you start to untangle the knots his hair has twisted into, pulling the brush through small sections over and over until it runs smooth. “You ever think ab-” “I’m not cutting it Y/N,” “Just a suggestion,” “If I cut it you’d have nothing to hold on to.” “Fair enough,” You keep chatting as you brush Roger’s hair, able to feel him relax against you, the tension leaving his shoulders and neck, able to hear the exhaustion in every word he says. By the time you’re done his eyelids are drooping, every ounce of the overabundance of energy gone. “C’mon babe, time for bed,” you say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Roger just nods, shuffles around until he can crawl under the covers. You put the hairbrush on your bedside table and join him, laying on your side to face him. He takes one of your hands, lazily tugs it to his lips. “Love you,” “Love you too, Rog,” He lets his eyes close but doesn’t release you. Not until he’s well and truly asleep.

#my fics #my writing #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #look i just love writing boys who are cocky little shits but also very somft

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

genuinely

[requested]

member: minho wc: 1.2k genre: questionable angst (?), fluff (?) no one knows warning: explicit language note: late af bc i had to deal w meetings + there’s this song that goes self self self ur strong ur beautiful this cant be we cant be weak for our crushes just one check and u already seen it but like in my language lmao

[12:51 AM] Minho dials your number on his phone’s keypad for the twelfth time tonight, fingers shaky at pressing the all-too familiar sequence until he gives up halfway again, hurriedly deleting the numbers and closing his phone. On the other end of the sofa, Seungmin also sighs while typing his term paper, also for the twelfth time tonight, smacking the older boy’s legs with one of his book references after and effectively garnering his attention.

“Ya, what was that for?” Minho winces with a pout, rubbing his ankles where the hardbound cover landed.

“If you’re just going to continue dialing Y/N’s number without actually calling them for the rest of the night, you should just go and do it in your room because I can’t think with you typing obnoxiously loud and sighing.” Seungmin hisses, not even looking up from his work the entire time. “Or at least put your phone on silent, it’s getting annoying.”

From Seungmin’s peripheral vision, Minho only pouts harder. “I’m getting to it, I swear.” He protests, opening his phone once again and looking at it once before crawling over to Seungmin who only scoffs. “Okay, maybe I’m having some difficulties.”

“I can tell.” Seungmin deadpans, snatching Minho’s phone out of his hands. “How about this: I dial and you get out of the living room?”

Minho nods in defeat, letting Seungmin type and scroll away on his phone to look for your name on the phone’s contacts. After an agonizingly long moment, Seungmin successfully calls your number, the faint ringing making Minho’s heart beat faster.

He can only think about how you were feeling when you were in the same shoes a week ago.

Seungmin then hands Minho his phone, snapping him out of his daze and shooing him out of the living room. “Okay, out.” He orders firmly with the same book held up threateningly. “I have a paper to finish and I don’t want it getting infected with cheesy love confessions.”

The last comment makes Minho rolls his eyes but he obliges anyway, walking back to his room as he presses his phone to his ear and waits for you to answer.

[1:10 AM] You pick up after the twentieth ring, just as Minho’s reached his room and he’s seriously started contemplating on hanging up. With your groggy voice barely passing through the lines, you greet him, “Hello? Minho?”

Minho’s voice catches in his throat and he doesn’t speak for a moment, making you continue, “Are you there?”

“Y-Yeah.” Minho ends up stammering in response, clearing his throat once before asking, “Did I wake you?”

“No.” You lie terribly, a yawn escaping your lips after and making you laugh. “Yeah?”

“Sorry.” Minho bites his lips unconsciously, his free hand fiddling with the doorknob next to him as he has his back pushed to his bedroom door. “I can just call you in the morning, if you want.”

He doesn’t see it but you sleepily shake your head on the other line before answering, “No, it’s fine. I’m awake now, anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You reassure unconvincingly, your nervousness overwhelming you. “What’s up?”

With that, Minho inhales a shaky breath, exhaling it quietly before replying, “I, uh, I just wanted to say hi?”

“Okay? Hi?” You respond in the same questioning tone, making Minho smack his free hand up to his forehead. Dumbass, he thinks to himself, that’s not what you’re supposed to say.

“No, uh, that’s not what I was supposed to say!” He quickly clarifies, groaning in frustration. “What I wanted to say was that, uh—shit, how did you even do this last week without blanking out?”

Your breath hitches too loudly on the other line and Minho hears you shuffling around. When you don’t speak, he continues, “Anyway, what I really wanted to say is that—I’m, I’m sorry about last week.”

You clear your throat on the other line and Minho patiently waits for you to respond. When you do speak, your voice comes out smaller than you expected it to be. “W-What, what are you sorry about?” You laugh awkwardly, shuffling around even more as you force yourself to speak louder. “I told you it was fine, I understand if you feel that way.”

Minho opens his mouth to speak but you’re quick to add, “I get it—friend’s younger sibling and all, of course you’d naturally think of me as a younger sibling too.”

This makes Minho frown. I really said that last week? That’s a load of bullshit, Minho, he scolds himself. “That’s exactly what I’m sorry about.” He clarifies, pacing around his room now as he looks around the dimmed space for his next words. “I didn’t mean to tell you that I don’t like you back in the same way—I was just surprised you’d confess to me, let alone with your brother Chan around. I was also surprised you’d even have feelings for me at all; it kind of fucked up my feelings there.”

There’s a pause again on the other line and even though the two of you have lost count on the amount of times this has happened in your call, it still drives Minho over the edge as he anticipates your response.

“I really do have feelings for you, there’s no doubt about that.” You mumble from the other line as if you don’t fully mean for him to hear it. “But are you sure you’re not just pitying me right now?”

“W-What?” Minho’s eyes widen in the darkness. “No, of course not. Why would you say that?”

You sigh but try and present yourself as calm as you can even when your entire chest feels like it would explode any moment now. “It’s just that it’s been a week and if you really like me too you would’ve just told me the second Chan left or just generally a bit sooner than this.” You explain, a bit faster in speaking now because of the unfamiliar feeling the words give you. “Of course, I can’t help but think that you just feel bad or something like that.”

“I was...trying to sort out my feelings.” Minho replies slowly, finding his bed in the darkness and sitting on its edge. “But I really don’t like you in a pitying way; I genuinely like you.”

Another beat of silence. You calm your heart on the other line while Minho breathes in and out slowly at finally saying the words out loud.

[1:22 AM] The next moment someone speaks, it’s you breaking the silence once again. “You know I can’t just accept this.” You point out. “I still like you but that doesn’t erase the fact that I was hurt by last week.”

Then there is one last silence in your call as Minho processes this. Of course, he can’t help but feel a little hurt too but then he thinks that really is the point on why you would say such thing.

In the end, he agrees, “Of course, I understand.” He then falls back on his mattress, already feeling that this particular call is about to reach its end. “But can I—can I earn back your feelings? I can prove to you that I’m being genuine, I swear, if you let me.”

And for the first time since Minho called you this late in the evening, you start to feel less nervous talking to him. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

m.list

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cagestark · 4 years

Note

Starker Drabble pls ??? the first time their son/daughter sleep through the night Peter or Tony cant help but go check anyway to see if they are alright

As a mom, this prompt hit me right in the feels omg lmao. Thank you!

“Tony.”

Tony hums, more than half-asleep even though it’s movie night, even though they had promised to spend time together as a couple after Morgan went to sleep. Reaching out with one hand, Tony searches for Peter’s own, ears picking up the scene on the television: blasters and lightsabers. Fuck, he’s missed half the movie.

“Morgan isn’t breathing.”

His eyes open, unseeing. The terror is visceral, like a knife to his chest. He sits up so quickly that his head spins, taking in Peter’s face lit up by the light of the baby monitor they’d installed in Morgan’s nursery. Even in the blue-tinged light, Peter looks pale and terrified, eyes wide as moons as he stares down at their daughter.

“FRIDAY!”

“Morgan is breathing boss. Respiration rate is 42 breaths a minute which is within normal range. Heart rate is 130 beats a minute, also—”

“But look at her, Tony!” Peter thrusts the monitor under Tony’s face, the glow burning his eyes. “Look at her! She’s not moving.”

Tony’s heart still hasn’t slowed—God, he thinks, is there anything more terrifying than hearing that your child isn’t breathing? If there’d been any doubt that the parental instinct wouldn’t develop in him, it was long gone, chased away by his thundering pulse. He looks down at the sleeping bundle, so tiny in a crib she has yet to grow into. He squints. It’s hard to tell over the poor quality of the monitor (fuck this, he’s going to have to design one of his own, forget trying to appease whoever had bought this for them as a gift at the baby shower). Is her chest rising and falling with the rapid breaths of a newborn?

It’s impossible to tell. But— “You know FRIDAY watches her, Pete,” Tony says. “Who are you going to trust, a screen with the quality of a 2006 flip-phone, or the most advanced digital assistant in the Western Hemisphere?”

“I trust my eyes,” Peter says. They’re bloodshot eyes. Exhausted ones, one full of tears. Getting Morgan’s sleep cycles on a normal circadian rhythm had taken a toll on both of them, but especially on Peter who was sensitive enough to hear Morgan rolling and whining even through the walls.

“Alright,” Tony soothes. “Then let’s go in there and check. That’s the only way to be sure, isn’t it?”

The look Peter gives him is scathing. “I don’t want to wake her, Tony! She’s only been asleep for three hours—”

Tony doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He buries his face in his hands lest he laugh and hurt his husband’s feelings, but Peter must see the way his shoulders shake because the younger man delivers a modest push to Tony’s shoulder.

“I’m serious!” Peter laments.

“What do you want me to do, Pete? I’m—”

A cry from the next room startles them both. Peter’s whole body goes lax with relief, and Tony feels his heart clench. What an asshole he is, when Peter’s fear (even as illogical as it is) is so painfully real. But the younger man stands, knuckles rubbing away the tears that had filled his eyes. “You sit,” Peter says tenderly. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got her.”

Tony sags back into the sofa cushion. “Call if you need backup.”

But instead of sleeping, he sits, face lit by the monitor, watching his husband rock back and forth in the sweetest slow-dance with their daughter cradled in his arms. And he decides that some moments are more important than sleep.

#starker #kid fic #drabble #cagewrites

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just-my-fandom · 5 years

Text

Embrace (Billy Hargrove x Reader) SMUT

Only 120 more followers until we reach 1k AHHHH

I included a little smutty part for someone who requested, yes youre welcome I know, im amazing. So this requires a mature warning oop

Warning; smut 18+

Tagged (I literally had to write the entire list on paper so I wouldnt forget anyone lmao); @irreplaceable-ecstasy @avocadoesatlaw @rexorangecouny @fraeppuccino @shane-isa-shame @teenwolflover28 @buckysjuicyplums @lcgaf @ahoy-ladies-67 @itsfangirlmendes @tellmyselfies @xkotkuu

_________________________________________

"Can you at least tell me whats going on?"

Your house is silent. Your parents have gone on a business trip almost a week ago, and wont be back for another two, leaving you charge of the house, leaving enough money for food every day and personal needs,

You lean against the wall of your living room, finger twirling the phone cord tangled around your arm mindlessly,

"I'll explain when I get there," Billys voice is quiet, a shout in the background from Neil causing you to jump, "Just- wait outside for me?"

You sigh, rubbing your eyelids tiredly and nodding, remembering he cant see your actions, "Yeah. See you,"

Pressing your phone back to the wall, you shrug on the jakcet hanging on the rack mear the front door, and youre glad you dont have to stand in the cold too long, Billys '79 Camaro pulling into your driveway,

"Mind telling me why the hell Neil was so pissed off?" You walk up to his car, arms crossed as he stands up, closing the door behind him. Thats when you catch his gaze, his cheek bruised and his nose busted with blood,

"Holy shit," You grab his arm, tugging him into your house and pushing him near your kitchen so you could close and lock the front door, "What the hell happened?"

"Its my dad," Billy pulls off his jean jacket, dropping it on the back of a kitchen chair, "Max ran out of the house and I was apparently held responsible for it,"

"So he beat you?" Your hand grabs at his jaw, turning his head side to side to examine the wounds, "Fucking asshole,"

Billy chuckles at your mutter, leaning back into the kitchen counter to watch you open the medicine cabinet, pulling out alcohol and bandages,

"And that," You stand on your toes, pressing a alcohol damped cloth to his nose, "Is why youre staying here tonight, let him cool off,"

"Was already planning on it, sweetheart," Billy places his hands at your waist, watching you wipe away any remaining blood from his nose and patch a bandage to his cheek, "Like I got my own personal nurse,"

"Dont think you got it easy Hargrove," You set the cloth to the side, hands at his torso, "I'm still pissed you called me at almost," You glance at the clock on the wall, "One in the morning,"

"Good thing its summer," Billy leans down, his large hand guiding your face closer to his. He pauses, lips hovering over yours, and you grin, leaning up so your lips pressed to his roughly,

"I have a diagnosis," You hum against his mouth, pulling at the buttond on his shirt, "You're in desperate need of immediate treatment, and Im just the girl you're looking for,"

Billys hands curl at the back of your jeaned thighs, lifting you up and turning to sit you on the counter behind him,

"My hero," Billy mutters, leaning back long enough to tear off your shirt, throwing the fabric behind him, hand sliding under your bra strap, shoving it down your arm so his lips had access to the exposed skin,

"This wasnt planned, was it?" You breathe out into his ear, fingers fisting at his hair,

"This is never planned sweetheart," Billy pulls you forward so your pelvic meets his, his hips rutting against your covered area between your thighs, "But Im feeling much better now,"

Your hand raise to his face, thumbs drawing across his cheek bones, eyes searching his for any rejection in your action,

"You know your father loves you, deep down," You whisper, sliding your hand to the back of his neck and allowing him to drag his lips down your neck, "Hes just stubborn, like you,"

"Youre really pushing it, babydoll," Billys hands press at your inner thighs, slowly drawing them apart, "You dont know how hard Im trying not to take you on this counter,"

"How uncomfortable," You tease, leaning away from his touch, "Carry me to my bedroom?"

"The couch is closer," Billy swiftly eases you into his arms, walking only a few steps before dropping you on the couch, crawling over you for better access, "Now, try not to disturb the neighbors this time, yeah?"

"No promises," Your head falls back, knocking the armrest in time for Billys hand to slip through your jeans, finger pressing to your panties,

Your eyes fall shut, chest meeting his in an arch when his middle finger slides past your folds, allowing you to swallow him,

Your mouth drops in a moan, Billy looking up from where his hand worked to meet your eye's, free hand drawing to your mouth,

"Shh, baby doll," Billy curls his finger, your gasp blocked by his palm, "Ive got you,"

"Guess your nose doesnt hurt anymore, huh?" You choke out, grinning as he rolls his eyes and draws his hand back, forcing it forward,

"Time for me to pay my medical bill," Billys fingers loop at your jeans, tugging them down and tossing them over his shoulder, hands lifting your thighs so his lips could brush at your stomach,

"Youve got a big bill, young man," Your eye's pinch shut, Billy chuckling and pressing his lips to your sex, sucking roughly to add pressure,

You gasp, loudly you note, hands reaching for anything and ending at the cushions, brain fuzzy when Billys tongue presses into your folds, your juices settling at his tongue,

"So sweet," Billy lowers your hips, hands pulling at his belt buckle to give you time to catch your breath, "I should have came sooner,"

"Your father did you a favor," You sit up, backing him against the couch and settling into his lap, lowering yourself into his pulled member, "A nurse must care for her patient,"

Billy chuckles, hands resting at your hips to roll you forward, his lips parting to release a low groan when your clit finally touches the tip of his dick,

"Gonna ride me, baby girl?" Billy settles his lips against your hair, his pants loud in your ear,

Your head falls onto his shoulder, whimpering when he reaches balls deep, and, throwing your head back, you raise your hips, forcing them back down to meet his thrusts,

"Holy-" Billy grunts, jaw clenching as his hips rut upwards, smacking into your pussy, "Shit, sweetheart, never seen you take me like that,"

Your hands slide away from his neck, whining into his skin before your hands grab at his torso, forcing your lower body to quicken their pace,

"Billy, shit," Your eyes pinch shut, the rough smack from skin to skin echoing against the walls, "I'm gonna cum,"

Billys groan rises in volume, both arms tightening at your lower back before his hips sputter, slowly to ease You through your high,

He hums into your ear, hoarsely, raising your hips off of his to gently lay you down, grabbing a tissue to wipe your lower area clean,

"I think Im cured," Billy winks, your smile tired as you laugh quietly, pecking his lips slowly,

"Good. But that was just half your medical bill,"

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