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anantaru · 1 year

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THREE SECONDS

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — as your relationship was ready to take the next step, itto wanted you to meet his granny who had raised him for the majority of his life and was beyond thrilled to show you where he grew up in as a child, or especially how cozy his old bedroom seemed to be.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — this fic stems from a little thirst i wrote a while ago and since i adored that idea so so much i just had to make a whole one shot for it, didn’t expect it to get so long though, still, enjoy! <3

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 5.9k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, messy, whiny itto but also rough itto, riding, fingering, he's insatiable, the horny took him hostage, slight size difference (i mean he's huge), semi! public + his granny is next door preparing dinner.

arataki itto, the one, the only— a man, who could never be easily defeated in the eyes upon his very self.

by the same token, he, in no circumstances regarded anything as a real believed problem which he would have to face in his life sooner or later on, to a higher notice, was he someone who'd pick out the clear positive in most heeded aspects and proceed to give his furthermost, unswerving best.

for you, he was everything and anything, all at once. The bordering, ingrained proximity between you both could have been esteemed like a mind altering drug— neither of you was marginally capable to keep a distance between each other, not when your relationship carried on to bring forth the best of your abilities.

arataki itto— the love of your life, your soulmate, a man who, to the actual core, triumphantly won your heart and sung a promise to protect it from danger of any kind.

be that as it may, tonight, your entire relationship had all gotten a different meaning in his life because of an undisclosed exponent, itto came into hazardous contact with his first real enemy in a long time— the name of the weighty villain was well known, ponderously soliloquized upon the brimming nations of teyvat, the revolting mischief;

anxiety.

now, to remain logical and give the full picture— today was the prized day where you were going to lastly make acquaintance with the person who had raised him for the larger number of his being— his granny, who graciously took him in as a little oni and fondly watched after him with peerless faith and love in this world.

and despite that, unbeknownst to itto, you were, without no holds barred, feeling the same level of distress. It wasn't unnatural to sought after such a devoted step in a relationship— on the flip side can it become undoubtedly frightening and alarming, singularly when it was a striking indicator to remark just how dead serious you both conceived your relationship and its fancied continuance.

when the evening befell the nation of inazuma in its brilliant illustrious artistry, you had met up with your timid boyfriend to then, fidgety stride to his grannies small sized house which had been a partially shade far outside of inazuma city.

your zooming thoughts— like cannon balls, were in abysmal need of required relaxation, in reality, you truly had no reason to be this frightened because even though you had never met her prior to this day, you heard nothing but subliming wonderful deeds about the woman in question, her accepting care and understandings, the way she did not see any differences in humans and oni— viewing them as equal.

"hey no sleeping!" itto suddenly barks, "wait wait are you feeling sick? we can turn around and sit for a while." oh, he sounds nervous but you insist you're fine, because truthfully, you had just reached your destination and you won't be defeated by something as insignificant as nervousness— it's alright, yet you wonder if your hands could please stop sweating so much? ignore it ignore it, there's no way back now.

in front of the door made of otogi wood, your boyfriend lessened his handsome face to meet you, holding your pretty eyes with his diamond shaped pupils. You easily allow yourself permission to cross the fleeting words in your thoughts to run over his question, what he had asked was indeed chucklesome, in a way that you weren't for certain if the spelled out sentence was solely pointed towards your person or if he was in reality questioning himself. "yes i'm alright— are you though?"

the jocular idea of turning around did not cross your mind, not when you came this far and speaking forthcomingly, the pronounced concern on itto's scrunched expression was much larger and dignified than your own, yet despite that, said tangible worry wasn't one bathed in hesitancy or doubts, more— in an enthusiastic procedure that you were, at last, meeting such an important person in his life.

"of- of course i am!" he blabbers, "do i not look okay?!" yeah.. he must be thoroughly relaxed, right? that must be the obvious case, though he was actively waving his hand in the air— yet in front of his cheeks, he made sure he's covering himself, so you wouldn't get a singular chance to catch him blush in a full scarlet pitch, "why— why the hell shouldn't i be?"

"you seem nervous." you bluntly stated but teased, firmly deepening the eye contact and archons, how flustered itto could become when you won't tear your enthralling eyes off him, "— or scared." you carry on to unfitly taunt your lover, sneakily drawing down a firm grin but leaving your brows quirked up light heartedly, "whenever you're experiencing one of those two emotions, your voice gets a little higher, you know?"

"wha-" he interjects, "it doesn't!" for a crisp second, itto came to terms with his graspable frame of mind— because why should he hide his agitation from you? and then the straightforward tension that had been viciously eating him up from the inside out ceased to exist, "not true!" now, come now, "not me!" it had blurred itself out when he got ruminated with a sudden contagious laugh from you while caressing his arm to soothe his worries once more.

"yeah, i can see that." these are some mean turn of events to play with your boyfriends sensitive feelings like that, he figured, so he let his strong hands shelter your soft cheeks in a heart beat, "i'm never scared of anything." he's unnerved, back to his confident self.

"never ever ever, in a million ever never years!"

"you're crazy." you laugh and offer him a signature smile, freely blustering out a sheltered breath as you humanely lean into his left palm— itto flashes you his pearly white teeth and his thumb was lightly tapping on your plump bottom lip before placing a sensual kiss on top.

curiously enough, he never missed the chance to do that, to flip his thumb over your lips with a large smile, so he could lead you through what he was originally planning to do— to smooth you.

"lets get moving m'lady." he refrains, behaving a split amount differently, in all respects energized, "we're already in front of the door."

"you know what i meant!" he pipes up in an immediate rebuttal while angrily stomping his feet on the ground, banteringly pinching your hip, "ouch!" you loudly squeak out in surprise but itto was quicker— because he directly then knocked on the wooden door so you couldn't get back at him without letting his granny see it too.

his coruscating eyes, they expectantly bunch up while actively awaiting for his granny to open the large door to his childhood home, the place, were no matter what past memories, whether good or bad, had been crafted.

"dear, is that you itto?" you paid attention to an older ladies puny asserting voice upon a small space between door and frame, revealed was a short and on the face of it, feeble woman, appearing from behind. "granny! oh granny!" itto loudly cheers and muses, "you sure took your time granny!" this was an all in all cherished attribute you treasured about itto's entire personality— while surely, it by no means has been spread amongst the crowds that he was known for his loud and sparkling persona, but observing his innocent delight when encountered with his parental figure, openly fostered a total gladden in you— it's because you love him, just how he was.

in redirected regard of your own self, you didn't dare to move a single inch— as if frozen to the cold ground, though be that as it may, you could proceed with your reasoning and refer to it as the 'not well regarded accessory' to your continuous pestering tenseness that wickedly sauntered through head to toe.

but on a positive note, it was beneficial enough for itto to be this tall and large in comparison to your own frame, meaning you were capable to easily slip behind his back in hiding.

"this is who i've been telling you about." damn it, a genuine smile plucked the outer region of his lips as he largely stepped aside to reveal you like a gift from the heavens, his hands embarrassingly pointing towards you.

before you can say anything at all, itto had gladly taken over the role of the awkward introduction process himself and introduced you to his lovely granny.

again, thanks to the electro archon for your perfect boyfriend.

"it is such a deep pleasure of meeting you, dear." whatever it may be now, the woman conveyed an immediate tranquillizing quell which had brightly subdued your tensed muscles. "the pleasure really is all mine, miss!" extending your hand to her, she slowly lunged forward to shake it as you introduced yourself again.

now, in retrospect, this entire time, you had been tremendously nervous— highly strung, repeatedly shifting in your shuddering stance from left foot to right foot, right foot to left foot, though now, as you walked into her small home— with itto being a gentleman and closing the door shut behind you both, you at present had felt like you were truly welcomed in her abode.

(major mental sticker for the next time: don't let the useless negativity consume your goddamn mind, okay?)

well, back to business.

throughout the time, itto's sizable hand was, no matter what, situated solidly on the region above your behind, lovingly stationed on your lower back while he guided you to the homely warm and restful living room.

when you listlessly skimmed through the many decorations of the place, you discovered a framed picture of itto as a child next to his granny, it wasn't difficult to see their emotions through the stilled memory, both were marvelously happy and utterly fulfilled— grateful, with a squishy onikabuto plushie being sponged and pressed into itto's chest.

how long have you been staring at the frame? you can't recall, but fortunately to you, you got drawn back to the present reality when your boyfriend pinched your arm. His grandma— such a warm hearted lady, had affectionately assembled two beverages meant for you as she further beckoned you two to take a seat on the mellow couch.

"this is quite embarrassing." she weirdly was in a panicked stance about something rather awful, even going as far as to idly enclose her slender arms around herself, shaking, "what is it granny? are you sick?"

itto pucks himself into the seat with concern, yet striving to stand up right again and aid her in whatever was the critical problem at hand, "oh no! dear." she worrisomely shakes her head and her cheeks irradiated a scarlet tint, "but the dinner isn't ready yet!"

"that's all?!" itto exhales enormously from his chest— to a greater extent, one could say he was about to pass out from the thought of having something serious happen without him being in on it. Despite your rocky state of emotions from beforehand, you were now hopeful and viewed this polished opportunity as your sweet time to shine.

"can i be of help?" you bring forth self assured confidence in your tone color, "i might not be as skilled as you but i can try!" sliding the glass back on the coffee table, you were ready to get up and aid in the kitchen— it was not a big deal and you were always happy to help, especially when it was someone who was regarded as the closest family member to your boyfriend.

having said that, the wishing reply you had longed for, wasn't actually what happened, "there's no need dear." she sweetly giggled around her words, being truly flustered to the core by your sweet attempt to help her out, pretty much warming up with you already— you were lovely in her eyes, "and i'm certain itto desperately wants to show you around, isn't that right?"

you, of course, won't argue with that, "so damn right!" itto was full of happiness, and now, he's pushing himself up from his seat, additionally inviting you over to grab onto his hand so he could lead you around everything, "there's much to show after all!" with your hands quietly placed on your thighs, you feel nothing but giddy and take his palm, but rationally, you'd rather spend time with her so you could get to know her better.

that certainly was the best idea, but inside of you, the sultry skittish feeling of watching itto like that— so happy and excited, was priceless in your very eyes, maybe ... you could sneak in a few fleeting kisses before having to come back, hmmm, this does sound quite bewitching now, doesn't it?

on the way out of the living room, you were met once again with objects from his past, all pridefully shown and displayed around the tiny corridor he was leading you in. Next, on the very left, you found yourself in front of a wooden door that wasn't like any other, it was, quite frankly, messed up with what seemed to be symbols clumsily drawn on with a bunch of pencils— very itto typical, you humbly added.

"there we go." he's so excited, happy, euphoric— are there any other ways to possibly describe his emotions right now because in itto's perspective none of them were doing it justice, "the room of a real oni!"

"aww!" you accept the entry and let him close the door, leaving you both sheltered in place. his room was bigger than you had actually expected; a small, cleaned bed lovingly decorated with two larger plushies on top— one specifically caught your eyes, it was the same one that you saw earlier on the picture with his grandma, the onikabuto exemplar, while the other was funnily resembling a ruin guard of some sorts?

without much to say, both were worn off, he must've played with them in his childhood days.

"what do you think?" he quirks a brow, "to be honest, i was a little worried it wouldn't do me justice." you roll your eyes in the back of your head, what a guy.

at the prospect of being quite the stunner at taunting or playing with your boyfriend, you breathe out euphorically before speaking again, "the bed is so tiny, how little you were itto!"

"tiny?! it's not tiny!" he stomps forward, "this isn't tiny! or is it?"

was this the beginning of a heated debate? not really, but maybe a little. to elaborate himself further without requiring words, itto was swift and eager to carelessly wind away the dear plushies to awkwardly drop his wholeness onto the frail bed and archons— let it be known that the old woman outside had trouble hearing because those damned squeaking sounds were violent, dropping off the walls with an intensity you haven't heard before.

was itto about to break the bed? no no, you suppose. hopefully not.

"looky looky." he thoughtlessly leans back into the silken cushions but props himself up with his elbows so his pretty view on you would turn out even prettier, "it's large, just like me." — how can this man be for real sometimes, you wonder, snorting out a silly laugh on how impossibly comical he looked right now, with the majority of his legs hanging out of the bed frame.

"it sure does." you feign your engaging sentencing, silently getting close and walking towards him to sit, somewhere— which, uh, wasn't possible because he took the entire space.

literally, how could he not?

so, instead, you had, emphasizing heavily on the 'had', resulted to therefore straddling his hips with your thighs on each side of him. You're leaning forward and to that— your dress instantly responded with unknowingly pining up and revealing more of your smooth legs. Due to this unseen course of events, itto thumbed down entirely, now laying flat with you mounting on top.

the shallow heave that unbuttons from his throat when you declined your head to sweetly plant a semi innocent kiss on his lips, it was overflowing with tension, beyond wishing, so he leaned in— one kiss, two, one more? perhaps a couple.

in a profound refrain, you found yourself relaxed, making out with itto, still largely gentle and shy— if only he wouldn't have began to skim over your body with his hands, up and down in circles, his palms were seizing the movements of you, heatedly glissading over your exposed skin until looming them further back to greedily grab a fistful of your flesh and knead your ass to drag you close.

on purpose or not? but your cunt was now directly brushing on top of his member.

"mmh." you inaudibly whimper into his mouth as you coincidentally rub down on his groin, "ah— i'm sorry." he speaks and unexpectedly drags your pussy over his hidden cock. "fuck-" normally, you're so so careful— fuck, you wouldn't, right? do it on purpose, never.

amusing, you, as a matter of action, did not miss how tensed up itto was, how overwhelmed with the budding pressure in his pants.

how ... he was in his old bedroom, giving his almost painfully growing erection the thing it desired, from you, his cute darling. His breathing had been erratic while his digits further altered your flesh to keep you stilled but surely pressed right on top of his swelling cock.

rationality, here we go, "w-wwwait." his cheeks had a sudden burn with an equal amount of both a higher consciousness of euphoric bliss and clear embarrassment, itto figures that— archons, he might already be done for, the 'little' problem in his pants, how was he supposed to get rid of it before dinner?

"sorry." you cheekily coo and bit your lip back at him, "but you're comfy." cozily wrapping your arms around his neck, maybe another kiss will do it, so you sloppily go down and pull away with a sharp tug on his lower lip. You smile, although sheepish, "we should get up." and whisper the evident.

but unmistakably, if you would've acted out on what you were manifesting, or that you were more than certain you had wholly slicked up your thin panties by now— sensing them stick on your core, you would've blindingly leaned in to whatever you were attempting to do this second.

"wait." oh? this tone was different and you liked it— remembering the cause of it too. Much deeper was the timbre and not in his usual airless color, because itto was dead serious in his shaking utterance, a single word demonstrated a devilish command, "i'm a little—" you follow his eyes with your own and watch the mess in between your sticked together bodies— your dress had been draped up even more and was now pressed up, resting right above the beginning of your ass while itto's pants were extremely tight.

he embarrassingly looks up at you with hesitancy, "oh you know- i think i need a second." and he forcefully exhales his words from his tight chest, "but you are- fantastic." and prolongs his trembling heave right after, "and warm." while he closes his eyes, only a short amount because he had to catch your hips and stop them when you tried to move.

"what are you?!" he groans so loud, too loud— shameless, as you were quick to shush his noisy tongue with your hand clutched around his needy mouth, "shhh, don't talk." you coo, "don't say anything." and he listens carefully, with wide opened eyes, nervously gulping down the assembled saliva, "let me help you out, okay baby?"

finally, fucking finally, he thought, "c-careful." itto mumbles into your hand as you used your other to clumsily open up his pants— pulling down his, with pre cum drowned, boxers, at last freeing his erect cock that was plopping out of the garments.

it's heavy, shading red and the deep blue'ish broad veins on the underside of his girth left nothing left for imagination— your mouth practically watered at the filthy, sinful sight, but it's so tasteful and you wanted to please him right away, maybe suck him off and let him fuck your face, but now— not now, his grandma was literally in the next room and preparing dinner for you, right, almost forgotten!

lets just get this quickly over with and help your handsome boyfriend with his not so little problem— later on there was still additional time, you can always fuck at home, real messy and loud— leaving yourself to him so he was able to pump his seed into you and let it ooze out again.

"ah- baby." his voice sounded impatient and a bit whiny, "it hurts." he grits his teeth and his cheeks burn up, he lifts his hips and softly grinds into you while keeping you down, his face was incredibly red and even the tip of his ears had now visualized the exact same color. There's no way he didn't spend time to think about it too— about the shared fantasy, about pistoling his cock deep into your spongy cunt, it makes him question himself if he can actually pull it off, in this small room with the bed squeaking at every move.

the delirious flutter was risky, but worth it?

"okay, you know what?" he spills out, chasing more relief, "just the tip." he whines, "only the tip, please!" you curiously readjust yourself to rut your cunt on him— on the brink of turning brainless yourself. "you know we wouldn't stop." but the mental image of his tip splitting you roughly had you close your legs around his body, shoving your pussy on his bare cock again.

"but it hurts-" and you shake your head, just wanting to scream that it hurts you too, "i know baby but we can't."

one hundred percent a bad idea— that's what it was in an outer perspective, but how could you ignore his mushroom tip leaving itself get messed up by your arousal— how now, he nudged himself into the flimsy material of your panties to rub his length within your folds, spreading them apart, loving your wet cunt, "five seconds." you can barely hear him say it, "just five seconds." archons, where were the infamous rational thinking skills when you were in dire need of them?

fuck this, rightfully so, "three." now, you start to bargain for the tasteful prize, "four." and itto was determinedly stammering right back at you while his mouth was still covered by your hand. You both cannot believe each other, truly, how desperately needy you were, at this point barely caring anymore when he slowly bumped his drenched cock into your pussy— your underwear by now fully slipped to the side.

"three seconds!" — "oh man .. fine."

you drop your weight before he could finish his words, catching him so off guard was rare in it's own glorious state and you‘re taking his tip further, making the man underneath you deeply groan into your hand. "shut up itto!" you laugh and embarrassingly snort a little, "i'm sorry!" this whole lively situation had a comical sense to it because when else are you fucking your boyfriend in his old bedroom— in a bed that was way too small for any of you, but maybe that's the fun part of being this close together, fusing your skins as one.

you go silent, overwhelmed and shaking, to counter attack your natural body reactions you forcefully bite down on your bottom lip to withstand the upcoming moans, "fuck, fuck!" for comfort, you lean into him as his tip naturally slips in and out of your warm pussy, in and out, in and out, catching a glimpse of his already hooded eyes. "only the tip." you jokingly repeat, "mhm the tip." he moans back into your hand while you felt him drool on you— because there you were flaunting your tits at him, rigidly pressing them into his chest with your pointy nipples finding friction.

itto shuts his eyes on the sprouting frustration closing around his belly, "mhm, i can't believe this." he almost laughs, as if to ease you both down in his own silly ways, "me neither." he further molds his hands over your hips to hold you in a precise way. Truthfully, your trembling thighs were burning and sore, firmly splattered with arousal and exposed to him.

the position you were currently in wasn't kind to you, if anything it was becoming harder to remain focused so you wouldn't end up suckling in more inches without realizing.

you carefully move away your hand and give him enough space to breathe more sizable and damn— the sight in front of you was a fucking longed one, downright unreal, it wasn't able to be somewhat framed or painted into words.

itto whatsoever, his face had spiraled into complete redness, granted, he was trying his utmost finest to be good and not greedy, though the punishing demonstrated fantasy of bulging his cock into your sensitivity was always there— his shaking hands clearly giving it away.

"ah- this is awesome!" itto clears his throat and needfully runs his knuckles over your skin, reaching your behind— two of his fingers ran down to your folds to spread them and leave him with more room to stay inside, "yeah.. this is better." he heaves and you whine because it really does feel better that way— you've been plenty wet by now and if you weren't this patient, you surely would've fucked him into oblivion by now.

you hide your pleased face in his neck, "i can't believe we're doing this." and admit, arching your back a little (for good measure) before slowing one of your hands over his damp forehead where a couple of his hair strands were sticking onto, due to the excessive amount of sweat, "i think I'm dreaming!" though it's stupefying, itto gladly relishes in the smug satisfaction, claiming you one inch further, a bulged type of sweet and honeyed pride was delivered when he let you do it— slurp up one more inch, ambling his hips differently for a finer angle.

you kiss itto's lips to soothe his gravelly groans, in addition to your own squeaky huffed out cries— he's so big and heavy that when you move just a little, it's as if he's strapping you off every single inch of control in your body, as if he's, on purpose, targeting the plushy splotches in your walls.

you grab onto another inch as he passionately groans into your mouth— more please more, bracing yourself, letting his tongue run free into yours, he continues it, pitching his hips further and spreads his thighs to rub you into him while his eyes flicker with lust and so do yours.

you just cannot think straight anymore, it's not possible nor required, you are so fucking fucked right now, both deliriously good and blazingly bad.

itto thinks it still isn't enough, his big cock was tingling in your walls and it should be criminal on how fucking fine your closed insides were, ravenously bordering on him and gripping him— it doesn't even compare to other instances in his life because you both couldn't keep your hands to yourself and wanted to straight up— lose your minds and bodies.

a hiss spills from his throat and it appears like your legs are about to give up on you— your tits too, bounce in tune to your actions and surge eminent bliss into your veins. You find yourself entranced when he crowds you and your toes curl at another easy shove forward.

the painstakingly grab on your hips was to leave bruises, his knuckles turning white and his dick shimmers with your arousal that you sink down further.

you adjust and squeeze around him, bending over when breaking off the kiss, your wet lips twitching in a shameless grin as itto chuckled right under you. The lower side was rammed with your transparent liquids puffing out your pussy— itto's eyes were blown wide and he makes sure to always remember to stretch your ass while you look so adorable above him, creaming on his cock that was now completely clashed into you.

hold on.

what happened to the three stated seconds? or just the tip?

three or none, oh no— not this, please no, archons above please send us mercy because how much fucking time has passed since you started this succulent and mouthwatering gamble?

"fuck— just like that." itto mouths without a single care behind those eyes, "you're the prettiest baby, you know that?" he lifts himself into you and turns the bed into nothing more than a squeaky noisy problem. It could've turned out real embarrassing if not one of you had turned on your hazy braincells.

"itto wait!" you foolishly whine, "shit, too loud!" he bottoms out and smacks his balls into you, remembering the obscene situation as the bed loudly creaked. "shit, shit shit." your mouth clashes onto his with saliva bubbling out of the outer parts of your lips. Yet you don't stop, instead you grind your pretty cunt on him and smear his filth over your soft walls.

"do you think?" you're concerned for the obvious, stilling yourself, "no no, don't worry baby." itto speaks up, "are you sure? we were very loud right now." he captures your body in between his arms to twitch inside your core, you on the other hnd never adjusted to his large dick— you just couldn't stop pulsing on his length, it's swilled with your liquids. "i got you, i'm sure she didn't hear anything."

while you do want to place your greatest trust into him, you weren't stupid, but amidst the sinfulness of it all, you nod your head at him. "we need to finish this quickly." whispering from above, your warm breath fans over his skin.

itto doesn't answer, there was no need for it, not now at least. He reaches up to lift your chin to lead you towards his lips and you cry into the sloppy kiss while his other hand dampened down on your folds, roughly stimulating you with his knuckles. "i- fuck, i-got-you." he finally says in between groans and urges you to continue, "i'll make you cum on me." his words came out in a stitched together grunt.

his mind— it was gone and clouded and another moan leaves him right after at the galvanizing sight of you. Itto braces himself and leads you to heaven, it's overbearing and frustrating, but the new punctuated jolts were closing down on your sensitive cores, they were tempting and pressing on your beating thuds.

all you could think of was for him to please please go faster, but it wasn't possible, not anymore. okay, well, it was but, you would equally be busted and you were sure the embarrassment of being caught by his fucking grandma during the act alone would give you terrible nightmares for years on end.

his knuckles dig into your shining folds and rub you fiercely while taking you with his cock. By how rough itto was fucking you now you had to close your hand around his mouth again so he could freely grunt and moan— vocalize his pleasure to you so you can latch onto him finer, constrict on his shaft and milk him dry until he's wet of a white ring of arousal, the clear determination to finally cum was genuinely all you both could think of.

you cry yourself into his shoulder when he pulls you to him, fisting his palms into your draped up dress to practically rush you back and forward— using you as a fucktoy to drench his cock in. His hips are stuttering and you knew he was close— because in truth, you were too, the continuous intrusion of his sensual tip on your pleased insides felt so fucking fine you thought you were actually going to tear up from it.

it's when it began to burn as he continuously smacked his hips into you, both tightly squished into each others embrace and melting into your bodies. You were drooling on your entire chin and then it happened, bringing you back to the overstimulation which was twice as powerful, twice as deep— pulling out your climax from your strangled rooted core as you violently clenched on his heavy cock, your orgasm thundering over you.

"too much, too much!" you whisper cry on him and itto plants one of his hands on the back of your head to squish you close as he climaxed too, sealing his lips as you pressed your hand into him. "I'm so close— so close so close." his hips were still going but slower, his calloused palm holding you down, guiding you where he required you to release his seed, paint your walls with silken white and calm your inflamed skin.

"fuck!" he moans and his eyes roll back, "inside— im inside you." itto feels empty but fulfilled, the compressed position was in any other occasion insanely unfitting and uncomfortable, but for you there wasn't a better one. His breathing was hot and the entire room smelled of sex and filth, the spilling ropes of cum were seeping right out of you.

the both of you were utterly panting and damn, itto came a lot, cummed as deep as he could and his grunts were still there— low and under the shadowy rasps, leaving it to you to finish him and he relishes in it, entirely, when being milked by a warm cunt such as yours, a claimed one, by him alone.

it's silent before your thoughts come back swirling, heated but never forgotten, you prop yourself with your arms and smile at him, but then it hit you.

"no no." you panic and your eyes glue down on your not so innocent lower region, "we made a mess." he smirks back at you, all puffed out and blowing. "how do we cover that?!"

you lift your hips and are now presented with the post nut problem, vision still glassed up and shaded by how good you were being fucked just moments ago. "wait let me-" itto helps you lay down while he sits up on the bed, his cock limply coated in arousal, "do you need- uh, wait!"

he swiftly searches around the room and finds a towel, hastily handing it to you, "thanks." you shyly mumble, still sore, "how do i look?" you ask him jokingly while fixing your make-up simultaneously to rubbing off the crumbling perspiration on your body.

"like you just had the best orgasm in the world." he sings, putting up his pants while helping you as much as he could. "you're one to talk." you tease, breathless and still hot, pulling down your dress as itto reaches out his arm to you, aiding you to stand up.

a hand falls heavy on his palm and you curse yourself for not figuring out sooner that you were thoroughly sore and done— swelling and used, especially your muscles were burning, searingly aching, "oh— easy now." itto could do this all day, watch you fix yourself after he fucked your brains out— minus the doing it in his old bedroom. His inflated ego breaks records, "are you okay?" but the concern in his voice was sweet, "y-yes."

"lets eat dinner then!" you almost forgot about that.

he rubs his belly and you nod your head in agreement, spouting out a wheezy laugh while you began to fix his hair, "— and hope your grandma didn't hear a thing." and end his sentencing at last.

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gretagerwigsmuse · 5 months

Text

can't hardly wait

Summary: in which a guy named bradley likes you back on hinge...

OR a prequel fic with the first hinge messages

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: listen i know i have a picture selected for her, i just wanted to have the ice cream comparison and went with this one. also i have all the pics on bradley's profile if you're curious 💁🏼‍♀️ he's just so goddamn cute! written for @roosterforme 's 'rocktober' event and inspired by the replacements song. don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉 [image template (x)]

Your phone lit up with a notification, buzzing in its spot on your glass desk. You glanced down at it for a moment before going back to your slide deck - until it buzzed again. It was a Hinge notification. You hadn't been particularly active on the app the last couple days, not wanting to get your hopes up yet again. But you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy. Leaning back in your desk chair, you swiped up on the notification.

Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.

You scrolled back through his profile one more time, reacquainting yourself with the 6'1" brunet. He had a picture cuddling a chunky French Bulldog, one at a Rolling Stones concert, one with an older guy who was probably his dad, and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate, in addition to his main photo. Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.

Bradley, you tested the name out.

Without further delay, you pulled up his message:

Did you only like me because I also have a picture eating ice cream on my profile? I guess that means you're not lactose intolerant?

You let out a little giggle and twirled around in your desk chair. Oh, he was sweet (and a little nerdy). No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back. Trying not to overthink it, you typed out a response:

bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid

It was cute, a little cheeky. He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.

How far do you have UVA going in MM this year?

You pursed your lips. Hmph. And went back to scrolling his profile. Ah, there it was - he'd also gone to UVA, though a couple years before you. He also drank, didn't smoke, and was vaccinated and bi. You swiped back to the chat.

Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. Just has you were about to say Elite Eight! Bradley messaged back:

Sorry, that was really lame. I’m not used to this.

You smiled. that has to be a line...

His reply was instantaneous. It's not, I promise! Alright give me one more try. How's this?

In the background, your computer pinged with multiple Teams message notifications, but your eyes remained glued to your phone.

Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?

It was such a ridiculous and silly fun fact that it made you smile. Time to put all that barstool trivia knowledge to good use.

no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...

----------

Turns out all it took was a smattering of the world's silliest fun facts to get you hooked, and after days of texting you were at the Hard Deck. The beachfront dive bar wasn't exactly your ideal first date location, but it seemed like there was a good crowd inside judging by the excessive number of the cars in the parking lot. As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. You smoothed your hands over your dress and checked your hair one final time before heading inside.

You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. The last person you’d gone out with for more than three dates had been your ex-boyfriend Jack and even that relationship fizzled after six months.

But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date.

God, please like me. I hope he likes me.

The bell above the door jingled as you entered, suddenly taken aback not only by the amount of people in the bar, but also the Navy paraphernalia doting seemingly every usable surface. Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?

Scooting out of the way of another group entering behind you, you bit your lip and stretched your neck, looking around the bar for Bradley. What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. The Bradley you had gotten to know over the last couple days sent you fun facts and his Wordle score. He asked about your projects at work and what you were having for dinner. He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. At the very worst, you'd hope you'd get an it's not you, it's me text from him.

But your worry was all for naught because when you got closer to the bar, you saw him. And by some sort of miracle he hadn't seen you yet, which gave you ample opportunity to ogle because you seriously needed a minute. God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked.

And he looked nervous? His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late. You squared your shoulders and cleared your throat before closing the final few steps.

"Bradley?"

He spun around on his barstool at your voice. The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.

A smile crept across his face as he said your name in turn and you nodded. Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. His voice was warm and raspy and had your insides turning into honey.

"It's nice to see you - " He gave you a full hug that was over far too soon. God he smelled so good, too. "- Here, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"

"You too." You took his hand and got on the barstool, placing your clutch on the table and glancing around the bar. "Ummm, what're you having?"

"An old fashioned - sorry," he shook himself and glanced back down at his drink sheepishly, "you just look really pretty."

You cheeks warmed under his stare and you bit your lip. If your knee nudged his underneath the bar-top then that was just an accident. "Thanks, I'll uh - I'll have a margarita?"

Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim.

And then it was just easy. Everything just fell into place. You talked about your time at UVA - he even got you to admit that you were a Tri-Delta after he admitted to being Sigma Chi philanthropy chair -your favorite restaurants and neighborhoods in San Diego, and your job, which Bradley endearingly thought was fascinating - something you wouldn't exactly agree with, but it was flattering all the same.

And it was only because of the easy conversation and banter between the two of you that you finally felt comfortable bringing up your most burning question all evening:

“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around with a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”

And then the night took a turn...

don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉

a/n: so this was just something small to tide me over before i post my next fic about thanksgiving! hope you all liked it!

#bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley and smart aleck #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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kaylawritesfics · 2 years

Note

Could we get a Peter Ballard x fem!reader fanfic where they fall asleep cuddling in her bed and Peter accidentally forgets to go back to his own room so they get found out by Brenner? With Peter being all protective and ‘don’t touch her’ over the reader and like trying to take all the blame and hiding her behind him to try and keep her safe? Fluffy ending please. Sorry I know it’s pretty detailed lol

71. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!”

summary: after he spends the night in your room, your secret relationship with peter is discovered.

pairing: peter ballard x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, slight torture?

note: this is a little long i will add a read more tag to it tomorrow !!

You woke to the soft sounds of Peter’s delicate breathing. His messy, blonde hair was sprawled across your pillows and his head was tucked into the crook of your neck. His arms were wrapped loosely around your waist and below the white blanket that was covering the two of you, your legs were intertwined, creating a mess of limbs.

You slowly turned your body to face him, dragging a single finger down the bridge of his nose and across his lips. His face was illuminated only by the small stream of light coming in through the blinds of your window. You studied the details of his face; the way his lips were a little chapped, the way his long eyelashes fell gently onto his cheeks, and the redness of his nose, which indicated the winter weather could be felt even from inside the lab. A small smile made its way onto his face, giving away his awakening. “You’re staring,” he whispered, his eyes still closed as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You’re so beautiful, Peter,” you whispered back, continuing to draw little shapes across his face with your index finger. His nose scrunched as you found a ticklish point near the base of his ear.

Quick, constant footsteps throughout the hallway outside you room alerted both of you to the time. It was well past the time Peter would usually sneak away back to his own room. A pit of anxiety began to grow in your stomach as Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he held a finger to his lips, signaling you to remain quiet. He calmly placed a soothing kiss to the crown of your head, untangling himself from you and standing up. He had fallen asleep in his work clothes, which were now wrinkled and he looked quite disheveled. Doing his best to make himself seem more presentable, he placed an ear against your door, listening intently for any sign of approaching footsteps. When he concluded that it was safe, he cracked the door open, peering out. Before exiting, he sent you a grin and a promise to see you later.

The rainbow room was your favorite in the entire building. The children were allowed to play and explore using their talents and you were allowed more time with Peter, who often patrolled the room with you. You noticed that he looked far more presentable than he did that morning, his hair was neatly fixed and he had changed his clothes, opting for an outfit with less wrinkles. To preserve the secrecy of your relationship, the two of you chose not to interact very much in front of the children, however, the lingering glances spoke enough for the both of you. From his place next to 011, Peter caught your stare, sending you a barely noticeable wave and a tight smile.

The sound of a door opening caught the attention of everyone in the room. Dr. Brenner entered the room, eyeing each of the children before his eyes finally landed on you. “Miss Y/L/N and Mr Ballard, I need to see both of you in my office,” the tone of his voice frightened you and you sent a worried glance towards Peter, who kept his eyes on Brenner. The two of you followed Dr. Brenner out of the rainbow room and down the scarily white hallways of the lab.

Brenner’s office was a place you had visited very rarely. The walls were white and decorated only by various awards he’d won over the years. Everything seemed to have a specific place and was organized neatly. Two guards stood menacingly on either side of the room and you gulped as you suspected what this was about. Brenner took a seat behind his desk, motioning for you and Peter to take the two chairs across from him. “I suspect the two of you know what this is about,” Brenner leaned forehead, intertwining his fingers on top of his desk. “Perhaps you should blame Mr. Ballard’s blatant ignorance and disregard for security cameras,” Brenner’s dark eyes fell on you as he spoke, his tone becoming more hostile as he continued. When neither you not Peter responded, Brenner motioned the guards forward. “Take them to the electric shock room,” he demanded, standing and casually stretching his limbs.

Peter’s chair created a loud screeching noise that captured the attention of the room as he abruptly stood up. He struggled against the guard’s grip, thrashing about as he tried to free himself. The other guard quickly grabbed you by the arms, dragging you slightly. “Don’t touch her!” Peter’s unusually gruff voice rang through the air as he tried to reach for you. “It was my fault! Please, she didn’t do anything!” He begged, tears filling his waterline as he attempted once more to free himself. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!” Brenner seemed to perk up at Peter’s words and emotions, holding up a hand to stop the guard from dragging you from the room. “If Mr. Ballard wants to take the blame for this, we’ll let him. Escort Miss Y/L/N to her room and take Mr. Ballard to the electric shock room.” Peter’s eyes never left yours as he was violently dragged from the room and down the hall.

You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the day, choosing to lock yourself into your room and hide in your bed instead. As night fell, your room became too dark to see, however, as your door knob rattled and turned, a bright light filled the room from the hall. You peaked up over your blanket, watching as Peter made his way slowly into your room, softly closing the door behind him. A groan escaped his lips as he sat down on your bed, pain evident on his face. “Peter?” You mumbled, crawling over to him and wrapping your arms around his back, resting your head on his back. “Hi, darling,” he greeted, visibly relaxing at your touch. You gently pulled him down to lay beside you, your hand finding his hair. “Why’d you take the blame?” You inquired, running a hand through soft, blonde locks. He smiled wryly, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hands tugging through his hair.

“I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 10 months

Text

[21:32]

Heads up: Lee Seokmin x Fem! Reader, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex, hair pulling (f. receiving), me pushing my big dick! Seokmin agenda, petnames, voice kink if you squint, manhandling of sorts and spanking (f. receiving).

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Seokmin has always had pretty solid self-control. Whether it exists from his want to ensure you're always taken care of first before he indulges in his own pleasure or, some deep-seated, albeit misplaced, desire not to hurt you should he lose said self-control.

It's sweet, really it is. How careful he still is when sinks into you or kneads your breasts so that it's not too harsh for you or how he slowly pushes his pretty, long fingers into you when he laps at your clit.

However, it's just too much fun to push that ironclad self-control of his to its limits.

"I- baby wait," Seokmin heaves behind you. His enormous hands grip your hips tightly, not tight enough to bruise, of course, but still with enough pressure that they still you.

You're well-aware of what you're doing when you look at him over your shoulder with a pout, "Seokmin," you whine, your eyes fluttering shut briefly when his girthy cock twitches inside of your slick walls, "Why? You feel so good. I want you to move."

The way his jaw clenches prompts your pussy to do the same. More of your wetness coating him and, leaking onto your inner thighs. The man who's behind you right now with his inky hair that sticks to his sweaty forehead and, barely restrained stormy eyes is a far cry from your typically adorable Seokmin. Anticipation prods at your gut, white hot and instantaneous.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, I'm just-" his words are left completely swallowed by the choked moans that leave his pretty mouth when you push back onto him. Your ass kissing his hips when his cock is fully sheathed inside of you again. This time, your eyes flutter shut fully. Your fingernails clawing at your sheets from him deeply he's nestled inside of you. The stretch causes your thighs to quiver violently, and your answering whimpers join his pitchy moans.

A sharp gasp flies from your lips when one of his hands comes down hard and fast on your ass. The sting brings tears to your eyes, and your walls grip him like a vice. Seeming determined to never let him leave.

"You always go too fucking far" he grits out, dragging his cock along your walls until his fat tip is all that's inside of you before slamming back into in time with another heavy spank to your ass. This time, the tears roll down your heated face freely. Your mewls echo throughout your bedroom along with the lewd squelching of him thrusting into your poor, poor pussy.

"Never fucking know when to stop," he continues, his typically soft voice having dropped significantly in octaves and that just worsens the heat coiling in your core. You're already too far gone to think of responding to him. "Always trying to get a rise out of me," he mutters, weaving his hand into your hair and tugging you up until his breath hits the shell of your ear.

"This is what you wanted, right?" He groans into your ear as he thrusts into you particularly harshly, "For me to fuck this pretty pussy of yours until you feel me for days, right?"

"Seok- Minnie," is all your hazy mind can supply in response. Everything feels so overwhelming but, oh so good that you can't think of anything but, his massive cock shaping you around him and his stinging grasp in your hair.

His laugh is nothing like the sunshiney one that always brings a smile to your face, "Don't worry, baby. I've got you. Gonna fuck you until you're full of my cum."

You're not sure whether that's a promise or a threat but, you're not complaining in the slightest.

You sometimes forget how strong Seokmin is because of how gentle he is with you all the time. You're reminded of that fact when he shoves your face into one of your pillows at breakneck speed, his heavy hand pressed between your shoulders.

"You should see how your pussy looks swallowing my cock," he moans out, his other hand kneading the flesh of one of your ass cheeks as he presumably becomes enamoured with the sight of himself splitting you open, glistening with your wetness.

"It'll look even better with my cum dribbling out of it."

AN: Me? Writing more dominant DK? Who am I? Anyways, tagging my favourite kwiyeomdongmoim @onlyseokmins because it's the law and also *evil laughter.* Thank you for all the inspiration, Elv <3

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

#lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #dk seventeen smut #seventeen dk smut #seventeen smut

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netegf · 11 months

Text

birthday

pairing: ao'nung x reader

While his chest swelled with pride under the gaze of his father, the new tattoos and cheers of the clan were not enough to convince Ao’nung that birthdays were a good thing.

At the moment, they only meant the pursuit of Na’vi. Questions hanging over their heads about his strength as leader. You, behind the crowd at a more-than-respectful distance, far-away enough that his heartbeat laboured. It felt strange to celebrate a pressure growing.

Tonowari pats a large hand on his muscular shoulder and Ao'nung cracks a pained sideways smile that you know is meant for you. He looks to you once, then flicks his eyes to the shoreline. You know it means – please, let’s go – and maneuver through rock to trail after him.

Years ago, the Metkayina had a practice of aging the tulkun by their teeth. Ao'nung wondered how old he was by that metric. If his teeth saw something in him that resembled the future Olo'eyktan, or if they were slack and unruly like the child he still felt like.

Tired of the thought, he stops to bury his feet in grainy, wet sand and listens to the sounds of the raging Pandoran ocean. Always loud and shameless. A thief of rest and nuisance to the many Metkayina that lived nearby, but never him. It felt good to see wild waters do things he could not – how waves scream and ask for attention.

When the warmth of your body tickles his side like a slow-coming spring, he wraps a strong arm around your waist and engulfs you completely, matching the waves that crack against the beds of weathered rock.

“Listen, you’re really handsome and all.” You tease, peering up to his set jaw and the curly strands of dark hair that frame his pretty face. “But it’s my boyfriend’s birthday - and he’d be really upset if he knew I was with you right now.”

Ao’nung rolls his eyes and flicks you lightly in the forehead. He chews his cheek, gaze cast down in that uneasy way. “I look that different?”

You know he means the tattoos adorning his face. Maybe it was the future they promised. Spiralling patterns and shapes, beautiful and intricate. All of which seemed to be calling a particular attention to his lips that you were more than grateful for.

“I was just being silly.” You say, caressing the sides of his cheeks and leaning forward to give him a soft, salty kiss. He melts into it. Soil snow under the unrelenting sun, no need to protect the roots any longer. “You look like you. Beautiful.”

Ao'nung hums into the crook of your neck before shifting his body down until his head reaches your lap. The tide swipes like a teasing four-fingered hand from the past, wanting to bring something home. With the touch of your skin keeping him safe, for once, Ao’nung rests peacefully feeling like it isn't him.

“Happy birthday, Ao.” You whisper as his eyelids get heavy, surprised to see his body stir, mouth pressing a tender kiss to your knee. His head nuzzles into your hand that combs through his braids.

“Thank you, tanhì.” He murmurs sleepily, chest vibrating the words.

The passage of time was not something he took lightly. Most days, it felt like a thing he couldn’t pinpoint was escaping him. But tonight, it was easier to stomach.

He could lay buried in the sand, heartbeat synchronized with yours, and sleep with the comfort of your body supporting him at all sides like water. Forgive his age and the state of his teeth.

Because if birthdays were anything like your arrival to Awa’atlu, or those microbes that gave the ocean its glowing bioluminescence – then maybe, he could start to understand them as a good thing.

i missed my boy :') reblogs/tags are so appreciated! 🪐

#ao'nung x reader #aonung x reader #ao'nung #aonung #atwow x reader #avatar 2 #do i project! yes <3

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mayfieldss · 5 months

Note

Hi beautiful, I really love your holiday celebration and I was wondering if you could do Secret Santa with the prompt "decorating the Christmas tree" with bf!JJ Maybank. Thank you so much. <3

this is the best thing everrr I love you!!

JJ had never had a perfect Christmas. He didn't think that was something he was worthy of, let alone something he could have, but this year was shaping up to be the best year of his life. He had the girlfriend of his dreams, wide-eyed and beautiful, and all his friends surrounding him with love.

Currently he'd just got back from the store with you, both your bank accounts empty, but with big smiles on your faces. You'd just gone to buy a bunch of shiny—yet budget—Christmas decorations for the tree you'd got for free from an old friend, and it was the most exciting thing about this years Christmas yet.

You'd fought over what color lights to buy, and what tinsel would look best on the trees branches and the baubles you'd purchased were a bunch of mismatched colors. You wanted silver and gold, JJ wanted red and green, so in the end, everything went in the cart. It was exhilarating to JJ, to see just how much better his life was now. He was living at your place ninety percent of the time, and he was loving it. Spending his days and nights with you was more than he could ask for, and as he watched you unpack the large expanse of decorations he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't let anything—or anyone—ruin this Christmas.

"So, where do we start?" He stands above you, extending a hand to help you up from your position on the floor next to the bags. His arms wrap around your waist as you turn to face the tree JJ and John B had managed to lug inside earlier.

"I think baubles come first, then tinsel, then lights." you seem unsure, but the plan sounds good enough for JJ.

"Great!" he claps his hands lightly, making you jump a little in his embrace before you embark on your decorating journey.

You think you do most of it, JJ just messing about with the things you've bought more than putting them on the tree. He rolls around in the tinsel, slinging it over his shoulders like a scarf, and hangs baubles from his fingers and ears to make you laugh. It's the most fun either of you have had in a while, and it's the least alone JJ has felt in years.

"C'mere," He reaches out, arms wide and inviting, feeling instantly warmer when you slide into his embrace.

"The tree's looking good." your voice is soft, like snow in every Christmas movie JJ's ever seen. He can feel your voice, deep in his soul, like a blanket wrapped around his heart.

"You're looking good." he mutters against your hair, earning a smile from you and a gentle slap on his arm.

"We gotta' put the lights up." You move away to grab them, and JJ follows you grabbing one end of the string lights as you pick up the other. You'd managed to keep them from tangling so far, which was a good sign. JJ never liked to make things easy though, pulling you close when you least expected it. He wraps the lights around you both, holding you tight as they twinkle through the power of batteries.

"They're supposed to go on the tree." you laugh, JJ tickling your side with his free hand. It's a sweet moment though, and one you'll no doubt remember every time you see lights of a similar blinking beauty.

"But we look so pretty baby." He's grinning against your ear, before he unwraps you, twirling you swiftly out of the lights. "right, how do we put these up?" He's already made his way to the tree, throwing the light around it like a kid with glitter.

"If you wrap them around gently, it should work better." you coax, going to pick up the other end of the lights again. Working together you get the lights up well enough, and you tuck the ends behind the tree where no one can see.

You've done well, all things considered, and the tree looks better than you thought it would, with its mismatched decorations. Last but not least was the star, which JJ held firmly in his grasp, protecting the final piece of the puzzle.

"You wanna do the honors?" he asks, holding it out for you to take.

"Only if you'll help me." You know he wants to be a part of putting the star up just as much as you, and when he smiles you know you're right. With that, JJ lifts you onto his shoulders, and you lean precariously to put the star atop the tree.

"Jay, I'm gonna fall." you say rather loud, and you sway atop JJ's shoulders, trying your best to stay steady.

"No you're not, I gotcha." You trust him, and he's right because you manage to get the star on the top of the tree without incident. When your feet touch the floor once again, a huge grin is plastered on your lips. JJ's expression is similar as he takes in the tree, and you beside him.

He brings you in for a kiss, short and sweet, and when he pulls back, you're looking at him in a way that sets his heart alight. "Merry Christmas, JJ." you whisper, and somehow, that makes everything better. JJ is going to have the best Christmas of his life, with you and pogues starting now.

"Merry Christmas baby." he mumbles back.

I know it's not the best but hope you liked it val!!!

join the celebration here!!

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST: @scenesofobx

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rillils · 24 days

Text

There were times, back then, when Steve was sure he wasn’t going to pull through.

When the fever had consumed him for days, and the breath burned thick in the back of his throat, and Steve felt himself slip too close to the dark place that lived behind his eyelids, across the threshold of his consciousness.

Death, he thought: hovering like a loving mother at his side.

He could feel it, like a cold whisper gusting against his skin, chilling him with words of warning. Soon, it said; and Steve was too weak to do anything but lie there and listen.

He tried to tell Bucky once, drifting out of a delirious sleep.

“If… if death came tomorrow...”

“You’d punch him in the face,” Bucky shushed him softly, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. The healthy warmth of his hand felt nearly cool against the fevered heat of Steve’s skin, and Steve leaned blindly into the soothing touch, sighing his relief as Bucky’s knuckles stroked his cheek.

Bucky. The world seemed to be fading at the edges, like a sheet of paper burning from the outside in, curling ash-black and falling away piece by piece; but Bucky was still there.

Bucky was made of gentleness and sound, sweet like the sweet nothings he poured in Steve’s ear when Steve slept fitfully, swept into his feverish haze and lost to the world for hours on end.

Bucky was touch: an anchor. Bucky was color, familiar and dependable, like the blue of the sky, the yellow heart of daisies, the stain-black of charcoal.

Steve glimpsed the downturned corners of his mouth, his lovely lovely mouth, red like ripe apples. Steve had dreamed of kissing it once. Twice. Every other night.

Bucky’s cheeks were so pale. His eyes looked so tired, circled by the bruise-like purple of his skin.

He hadn’t been sleeping, Steve knew. Steve had been sleeping, though – he’d stolen Bucky’s share of it while his body burned up from the inside.

“Buck,” Steve rasped, his voice thin and crusty, like plaster peeling off the wall. “If... if I go...”

Bucky shook his head, one curl coming loose from the once careful sweep of his hair. His pretty lips quirked up, a slip of a smile found so easily like he’d rehearsed it a dozen times before.

“Nah. You’re not going anywhere,” he said, collecting Steve’s hand to cradle it in both of his.

Steve’s head lolled sleepily on his pillow, lured by the sound of Bucky’s trembling voice.

“Buck.”

“Shh. You’re staying right here, where I– where I can keep an eye on ya.”

Silence spilled in the room, just for a moment – the space of a sniffle, of a soft, shivery exhale.

“Gotta make sure you don’t get into trouble, don’t I?”

One of Bucky’s hands left him briefly, and when it enveloped him again, there was a wetness there; one little drop trickling from the bridge of his finger, to land cool on Steve’s skin.

“Just. Just like I promised.”

And Steve knew then.

If Death did come; if it seized his wrist with its bone-thin fingers and bade him to follow, Now, child, it is time, Steve would say: No. He’s not ready.

He would think of the apple-red mouth he had never kissed yet, save for in his dreams; of the love he hadn’t quite begun to shape into words. He’d think of the life he’d only just caught a glimpse of, stretched far on the road ahead of him, twined with Bucky’s own as they reached into the future, together. Simply. Always.

No, Steve would tell Death. He’s not ready.

And neither am I.

#stucky #stevebucky #not sure what this is or where it came from but you know how it is #sometimes the thingie just gets stuck in your brain and keeps on knocking until you let it out #*screeches softly*#rillers scribbles #prewar stucky #preserum steve

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iliektehhaxs · 9 months

Text

Under Cover of Night

Pairing: Carlos Oliveira/Reader (AFAB) Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Word Count: 1k words Summary: A midnight rendezvouz leaves Carlos with more than he bargained for. Warnings: 18+ content, dom! reader and sub! carlos, blowjobs. Author's note: This man gives me such enormous brainrot that I cranked this out in the span of an hour. Unbeta'd and unashamed, enjoy.

Red-faced, flushed a pretty pink as he looks up at you. As large as Carlos is you tower over him, a dominance not shown by size, but by the power you hold over him. Your words sweetened, a promise spoken of pleasure beyond his dreams.

“Just a bit longer baby,” you coo, the sound melodic. “Hold out for me and I’ll let you cum as much as you want.”

The softest touch drives him mad, makes his hips buck wildly as your fingers move so slowly around his cock. It’s evil, how you stoke the lust infesting his senses only to take it away, again and again.

The first time he grew frustrated. Head falling into the soft cushions, a shudder traveling down his spine, barely holding onto his threadbare sanity with a sly smile.

“Gonna have to do a lot better if you want me to submit, sweetheart.”

You smiled at him, a warning, like a shark baring their teeth before their next victim. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

He should’ve listened, because the second time was slower, more built-up, and even more drawn out than the first. His chest heaved, struggling to breathe under the weight of his own need. Only when your hand ceased its movement did he realize that he’d rather stop breathing than have the pleasure end.

A gasp, a deep inhale, and then: “Please—fuck—why’d you—“

You made sure to kiss him right on his chest, right over his heart. He wonders if you can hear it, hear how the muscle pounds away like a drum, before you look up at him between your pretty little lashes.

“I thought I told you already, I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

A hand reaches down his abs, stopping to trace the prominent v-shape that makes his cock leak just that bit more. A choked noise escapes him when your hand suddenly surges lower, squeezing the base of his length with no warning.

You planned this, he thinks to himself. The grin widening across your face is telling.

The third time he can barely remember, far too gone to pay attention to anything that wasn’t you and your lips against his cock. Soft, plush lips moving faster and faster, the wet noises accompanied by moans, no, pleas of your name.

“Fuck me—I can’t take this,” he groans, hands tight against the fabric of the sofa. “I need to cum, for the love of god—“

He nearly cries when you leave him wanting once again, hips pathetically moving upwards in search of any friction, only to find none. “Jesusfuckingchrist—“

Spit lines your smirk, devilish in its design. You move back to his aching dick and for a moment he has hope that this torture will end, that he can finally be released from the net that is your ministrations.

That hope is extinguished when you blow on the head of his cock, watching intently as he twitches at the slightest breeze.

Overworked, over sensitive, and still so fucking desperate. He lets out a pathetic gasp, voice hoarse from overuse. “You’re cruel.”

There’s a twinkle in your eye, almost as if you were proud of the fact. “You asked for this Carlos.”

He did, he remembers, over a bottle of tequila that same night. Lips loosened by alcohol, he told you a secret in confidence; that he hadn’t been dominated before.

“Really?” You had asked him, shocked. Another shake of his head before downing another shot, the burn radiating through his chest.

A beat, and then. “Would you want to?”

He raises his eyebrow. “Want to what?”

“Be dominated.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the gleam in your eye when you asked, but something compelled him to nod slowly, taking in how good you looked under the light of his small apartment.

You had crawled between his legs, the small couch barely enough to fit the both of you. “I asked you a question Carlos, so I need an answer.”

You traced his bottom lip with your thumb, straddling him so perfectly. The look you gave him, one of pure seduction, is an image that will be etched into his mind forever.

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s ripped from his thoughts, a stuttering cry ripping itself from his throat. Your lips are back on him, accompanied by a hand fondling his balls.

He’s so pent-up, the moans echoing off the walls nearly unrecognizable, a mess of half-finished sentences.

“Please let me cum,” he exhales quickly, and this time tears really do leave his eyes, rolling down his face. “I need it, fucking christ—“

He wants to be gentle with you, to spare you the aching jaw you’re sure to wake up with in the morning, but right now his body doesn’t care about what he wants. No, it’s instinctual, primal, and when his hands find themselves in your hair he gives no thought to anything except what he needs, and what he needs right now is to cum.

The minute stutter of his hips is the only warning you’re given before he thrusts into your mouth with reckless abandon, the filthy sound of him fucking your throat ringing in your ears. You gag, hold onto his thighs for dear life and make no effort to stop him, nose buried against his pelvis.

Carlos is lost in a sea of desire, babbling frantically as he uses you for his own needs.

“I’m sorry, I can’t—fucking hell—“ he cries, his grip on your hair getting tighter. “I need to cum, need to fucking cum—god you feel so fucking good…!”

It doesn’t take long for him to finish, but it takes him a minute before he stops. Your mouth is filled with his salty release, so much so that it leaks from the corners of your mouth, a mess of spit and cum. He doesn’t stop moving after he’s finished, as if his brain hasn’t caught up with his body yet. Even as his thighs shake his fingers don’t leave your hair, lazily moving against your mouth until his body can’t anymore, falling limp against the soft fabric.

His cock leaves your wanting mouth with a pop as you assess your current situation. Carlos is still muttering your praises under his breath, a slight shudder racking his body, while your own underwear is slick with your own arousal.

You’re definitely going to lose your voice in the morning, but making Carlos lose his sanity under you more than makes up for it.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira smut #resident evil #resident evil smut #I wanna bite a chunk out of him and chew slowly he makes me feel very not normal #robo writes

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 1 month

Text

someone else on here suggested the idea of a Bro zone story where Branch gets turned back into a little Kid and the Brothers consider the idea of leaving him like that and starting again and I just wanna talk about this idea a little more.

like imagine it as an episode of a Tv show or something yeah I know its probably a bit too heavy and serous but hey its fun to imagine lol.

cause this idea has some sweet emotional potential like for whatever reason Branch is somehow magically turned back into a little kid and he's lost pretty much all of his life memories.

so he's well and truly naïve innocent and carefree again and Despite them eventually figuring out a way to turn him back to normal there's a bit of a divide as to Wether they should.

maybe early on in the episode Branch has a big argument with his Brothers yet again probably due to one of his paranoid or overcautious tendencies annoying them so much finally causing them to call him out on it.

and Branch hits back at him only being this way in part because of them because he had to be to make himself feel safe and have piece of mind since he had no one else and he storms off into the woods.

which is where he gets affected by something that transforms him back into a child with no memories.

I imagine JD would be the first one to suggest the idea of leaving him this way as in a way it'd give him a chance to fix one of his biggest mistakes.

as they could stick around and be there for Branch growing up like they weren't before and he could get a chance at a normal childhood without the Burden of Grandma's death traumatising him throughout his life.

not 100 percent sure about the other's reactions I feel Floyd would be against it at first feeling it isn't their place to make such a life changing choice for him.

but who knows maybe he'd be Tempted after JD guilts him over his broken promise.

maybe Clay would also be against it but Bruce to everyone's surprise actually sides with JD secretly showing a bit of deeper guilt over the whole thing.

being a parent himself and thinking no one should have to grow up that quickly by themselves and thinking of it as if it were one of his children and how he wouldn't want that for them.

so yeah it leads to a nice bit of Drama between the brothers btw I wouldn't have poppy involved in this story as its obvious what she'd choose and I kinda feel like she wouldn't even allow a Debate as far as this is concerned.

given she loves Branch and likely wouldn't even entertain the idea of permanently changing him from the man she's with currently.

anyway in the end of the story obviously the Bros do change him back after tearfully saying a final goodbye to the young innocent Branch who they hadn't seen in decades and who they'll never see again.

with Grown up Branch not having any Memory of anything that happened and the episode ends with maybe something like all the Bros sat around having dinner.

and one of the Bros out of somber curiosity asks Branch if he ever thought about changing the past so things could have been different for him.

but Branch actually kinda surprises them by saying that he has thought about it but he realises that just isn't the way life is meant to work ultimately your experiences do help shape who you are.

and he doesn't think its really helpful to look back on the past at least not anymore given the amount of time he used to spend doing that and he just thinks its better to accept the past and make the best of the present.

making his bros all hug him while sobbing in an over the top way because of how wise their baby bro grew up to be while Branch is just confused as to what is happening 😂😂😂😂

like I said I feel there's some very cute emotional potential with this little story idea.

#trolls branch #trolls #trolls brozone #dreamworks trolls #branch trolls #branch #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls third tv show #trolls branch angst #trolls bro zone angst #Trolls #Trolls Branch #Trolls Bro zone #trolls fan fic ideas #trolls fanfic ideas #trolls angst #trolls Branch Angst

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kaicheri · 1 year

Text

home alone.

sub!beomgyu

warnings: anxious sulky gyu has a mini tantrum, mommy kink (reader is addressed as mommy), choking kink, fleshlight toy [masturbation (m. solo)], begging, gyu imagines reader riding him

wc: 1.4k

———

“I‘ll be good, mommy, I promise!” Beomgyu said as he waved bye, and a promise he even pinkie-sweared on. “Please be safe!”

He didn’t expect you to be out for this long. There wasn’t even much on your grocery list, and it’s almost 9. You’ve never been out this late, especially so close to his bedtime—why, just, why would you leave him all alone in the cold living room? He’d been resting his head on the couch cushion and drawing shapes into the window for a while now, waiting for you so obediently.

The curly haired boy didn’t know when he became so moody, so insecure, so…scared. Maybe you’d abandoned him. You’ve probably grown tired of his antics and ran away. He knew it was bound to happen at some point. Maybe you escaped to be with someone better, someone capable of taking care of you, instead of lounging around in the living room all day. Every bad thought he’s ever feared was trying to claw its way out.

So he retreated back to his room like a lost puppy, pout and all, flinging himself onto the bed and cursing. He wasn’t allowed to curse though, but you weren’t around, so whatever, right? Fuck this, fuck everything, and fuck—he might just curse you too, but maybe…maybe that’s too much. Ugh, Beomgyu just wants to throw a fit, but who would be there to see it? There’d be no point.

Still, he was angry. He needed to rebel—disobey somehow—break his good boy streak so that you could come home and take care of him, make you realize what a bad mommy you’ve been for leaving him all alone like this.

By now, you would’ve been wrapping up dinner, watching a movie, maybe, but most importantly, helping him out with his evening neediness (touching him and making him feel all special.)

Then you’d bathe together, pick out matching sleepwear, and cuddle to sleep. But everything’s way off schedule, and Beomgyu finds himself kicking his feet into the mattress like a sensitive school girl and whining against the sheets.

Until he spots a naughty little box, poking out from just under his bed, tempting him.

“No, c-can’t,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “Mommy says I…can’t…”

You surprised him with it at a recent birthday, strictly telling him it’s off-limits, and can only be opened if mommy says so.

He sniffles and reaches down anyway.

“Hmph, well…mommy doesn’t have to know. This stays between you and me, good ol’ box, okay? You’ll be good for me, right?”

It’s wrapped in pink. No one would ever know it had the dirtiest things inside.

He rips the lid open with sudden eagerness and an open smile—not caring if the box had anything to say back, but instead, for all the good it held in front of him.

The vibrator, cock ring, flogs, tube of sweet-whatever-flavored lube, puppy ears…(he gulps, blushing) It had definitely been a while.

But there was one special toy waiting for him the most: the precious, pink fleshlight.

In no way could it ever resemble your own pussy, but it gave him the tightness and comfort that he craved so much for. He needed it now.

In seconds, Beomgyu’s already drooling into it, sitting upright against the bed frame and nudging the box away gently with his foot. Shame, if you were here beside him, he wouldn’t have needed to go this far. Wouldn’t have even thought about it.

His room is dimly lit with his Peter Pan lamp and allows him every last bit of privacy. He rubs his lower stomach as a soothing gesture to relax himself and blushes, before letting his hand slip under the soft waistband.

It’s like he hasn’t seen his cock in ages when he pulls it out. It’s just as pretty as he remembers. Having a sex drive that’s too high and a mommy like you who doesn’t let him touch himself without permission, it’s hard to blame him. The pretty, pink thing stays prisoner in these cotton cells most of the day.

“Mmn…” Beomgyu bites his lip, before staring lazily into the spit-filled toy. He nods to himself with simple satisfaction. “Should be enough,” he says, as if he could somehow calculate.

But it doesn’t matter, because the moment he slides it on himself, he cries out loud and realizes he should’ve been more careful. He has such a sensitive cock, you know.

“Hmph, m-mommy…please…” he whines some more, “p-please help me…”

There’s already tears in his eyes when he starts, slowly, but his grip falters. Ugh, why does he have to have such weak, pretty hands? They’re too delicate to be doing something like this.

Beomgyu’s whimpering loudly and his bulbous tip goes all the way, so he keeps it there momentarily to catch a breath. Anymore and he would’ve given out.

“N-no, just not…use-used to it, th-that’s all…” he swallows and tries again.

The self-reassurance almost seems useless as he slowly lifts the toy and slides it back down, having these labored breaths for no reason. It’s so warm and so tight—oh, so, so good—it feels like he’s being overstimulated already.

What’s worse is that he can’t stop thinking about you no matter how frustrated it makes him. He’s just so hopelessly infatuated and horny. He needs to be inside of you now—no, he needs to teach you a lesson, needs to make you sorry for making him this way.

But as his mouth droops open and vision blurs, it feels like you’re riding him, such a soft and warm pussy swallowing all of his cock, calling him pretty and squeezing his neck at the same time. The pressure builds up slow though, so he doesn’t get hurt.

Fuck, how he loves being choked. So stupid. He’ll take everything you give him. He’ll let you use him like he’s nothing. Poor boy.

“I…love it…love it s-so much…” He’s melting into the bed, eyes fluttering softly. There’s a whimper and a pout before he whines even more, “mmm..want m-mommy so bad…p-please..”

He didn’t want to be so loud for you, or at all, for that matter. He didn’t want to admit that he’s this dumb and desperate. But you’re bouncing on him even faster somehow—it’s just too much at once—he doesn’t want to hurt you, or hit the wrong spot-

But if you felt that way, you would’ve stopped by now—fuck, he’s so close—you know your limits, you know everything, because you’re his mommy, and mommy knows best, right?

Beomgyu’s hips are fucking into the toy as he grips it with both hands, so good that he can’t let go. But there has to be some kind of support—“th-that’s…ughh, y-you’re so warm, mommy”— so his fingers dig into the sheets under him, legs are squirming, thighs are sweating-

“O-oh, m’please mommy, please!” he hiccups, “Need it so bad- can-can I? Let me c-cum, please…been a good boy-”

Here he is squeezing his eyes shut and trying to hold it in a little more when you wouldn’t respond. “M-mommy! I-“

There’s a sharp gasp. His sweaty fingers are tight and tense, thighs are shaking, hips are erratic. Even when his mouth is wide open and his teary eyes are rolling back, no other sound fills the room but the squelching and wetness of his toy, and the warmth of his cum filling it up.

Regret washes over him as he bucks his hips into the toy a few last times, emptying out the last few drops. You’d kill him if you saw him like this, getting off like he doesn’t care. What about mommy’s permission? No, that hits him too late.

The bed rocks against the wall just a little bit. Beomgyu would have to apologize to the neighbors somehow, for he was too desperate to cum inside something that resembled too much like your cunt. He promises, yes, he promises he’ll say sorry to them, and to you too—for being such a bad boy, for doubting you and cursing, for fucking and wasting his cum on a toy, all without your permission—please, he’s so sorry-

“Honey, I’m home! Sorry, the usual store was running low so I had to go to another…where are you, baby? Mommy’s here now, mommy’s-“

He’s fallen asleep and left the lights on, laying on his side so peacefully…(you sigh) with a fleshlight hanging just on the edge of his wet, softening cock, and drool pooling out of his mouth.

You’d have to think about what to do with him later, but for now? You’ll just run him a warm bath. The poor boy needs it, you know? Give him some calm before the storm.

———

author’s note: hey y’all!! Happy reading and I hope you enjoy! :D

#choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu smut #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt x reader #txt imagines #beomgyu x reader

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msmargaretmurry · 3 months

Note

Anon doing ratnovel reread again - it's an absolute pleasure to (re)immerse myself in this world and these characters, and I know I'm not the only one who loves these extra little insights into haw-verse! Rereading it and knowing the general shape of Leon's side (poor guy with his soft little heart that he gave to Matthew and then...) makes it so much more hurty. Which I love. And speaking of (and I promise I won't bombard you with questions for each moment, probably, but I am still immersed in the feels), what is Leon's side of things when Matthew tells him to leave after the kiss?? Obviously he is heartbroken, but does he cry about it, is he very stoic German, does McDavid take on look at him and facepalm because he KNEW Leon was too much of a softie for this...?

Leon is an idiot.

Sitting in the back of the car back to the hotel, that’s all he can think. He is an idiot. He’s so fucking stupid.

He could think about other things. Matthew’s mouth against his, finally. The hot, desperate way he kissed back. That moment, lying together afterward, when Leon thought, stupidly, idiotically, that he was getting what he wanted. But if he thinks about those things, his hands start to shake and his stomach turns and he is not paying the clean-up fee for throwing up in an Uber, so he stays focused.

He’s an idiot.

He needs another shower, and he’s an idiot.

Not an idiot for thinking Matthew was feeling something even remotely similar to what he felt. No, he’s still painfully sure about that. An idiot for thinking Matthew felt enough — cared enough — to get the fuck over whatever the fuck is wrong with him long enough to have one honest moment. To think he'd see Leon putting himself out there and meet him halfway — not even halfway, a third of the way. A quarter of the way would have been enough.

At least it’s a short ride.

The hotel lobby is mostly empty at this hour, which Leon is grateful for as he stalks to the elevator, mashes the unlock on the digital key on his phone until it takes him to his floor. If he ran into a teammate right now— he can’t fathom having a conversation. He’s still burning so hot with humiliation that he can hardly see straight. The real world feels far away. Everything is white noise and his own stubborn heart still thudding in his ears.

He needs a shower. He still has Matthew’s come on him, under his clothes, drying on his stomach, sticking to his shirt. The sensation makes him want to puke, but he’s not doing that in a hotel elevator any more than he’s doing it in an Uber.

He’s such a fucking idiot.

In his room, he goes straight to the bathroom, stripping his clothes off with such determination that he pops a button off his shirt, then another as he yanks it off in frustration. He’ll care later, maybe. More likely he’ll just trash the whole shirt. He does not wait for the water to get hot, and cringes when he steps under the cold spray, but it doesn’t deter him from scrubbing himself clean. And it doesn’t take long to warm up. Faster than the water in Matthew’s shower warms up.

He is not going to cry.

Leon’s not an easy crier. He’s emotional, yeah, and he gets choked up easier than some guys, but it’s pretty rare that actual tears fall. But he’s got this tightness in his chest, this pressure behind his eyes, like there’s a dam inside him that wants to break. He rubs his hands over his face as water pours over him, streaming down his back and shoulders, hot enough now that it’s surely turning his skin red. Better than his skin being red from Matthew’s fingers digging into it. A sob tries to push its way up and out of his throat; he bites hard on the heel of his hand, turning it into a sharp, muffled sound.

And he shouldn’t care, he shouldn’t care about what Matthew is doing right now, but, fuck, Leon hopes he feels like shit. He hopes he’s still sitting there alone on his bed, staring at the t-shirt folded on his dresser, feeling like shit.

He presses his palms to his eyes, his breaths coming too fast and too short.

“Fuck,” he yells, the word swallowed up by the steam.

He’s such a fucking idiot.

If he could, he would stand in the shower until the water ran cold. But this is a hotel, so it’s not going to get cold. So instead he stands there until he can breathe without it catching in his throat. Until the pressure behind his eyes eases just enough that the danger of crying is no longer imminent. Until it hits him how fucking exhausted he is and suddenly all he wants is to lie down.

He shuts off the water, towels off, and goes to collapse onto his bed. He nearly steps on his phone on the way, so he scoops it up to take with him, but he doesn’t look at it yet. If Matthew hasn’t texted, it’ll make him want to throw up. If Matthew has texted, that might also make him want to throw up.

At least his life will be a lot less complicated now, he thinks, and that also makes him want to throw up.

He lays there miserably for who knows how long. He’s been miserable before, after losses, after breakups. The entire time they were getting swept in the conference finals last year while his ankle throbbed so badly he could hardly stand. Could hardly think. He wishes he had some kind of real physical injury right now to explain away how much he hurts inside. He’s been miserable before, but not like this.

He’s so tired, but he can’t sleep. The idea of sleeping feels completely foreign, like it’s something he’s never done before and might never do again.

He swallows his nausea and picks up his phone.

Are u still up, he texts Connor, knowing he won’t be. Connor goes to bed at a reasonable hour unless there’s a very good reason not to. He sits and stares at his phone for a few more minutes anyway, scrolling aimlessly through his texts without looking too closely at the conversation with Matthew. The temptation to tap in and backread is there, but he’s not masochistic enough for that. Masochistic enough to get himself into this mess, but not masochistic enough for that. If Matthew texted him right now, maybe. Maybe he’d open the conversation then. Who is he kidding — if Matthew texted right now with an apology, he’d take it. He’d forgive him so fucking fast. But it would have to be tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But only if it’s a real apology. Only if it acknowledges, even a little, that they were doing something real. If Matthew can’t do that, then there’s no point to any of this.

Leon squeezes his eyes closed. He’s not going to fucking cry. He squeezes his phone, willing a text to come through. Nothing.

He can’t fucking do this. He can’t lay here all night thinking about it. He’ll drive himself crazy.

It only takes a moment to find sweatpants, a t-shirt, slides — the bare minimum for leaving the hotel room. He stalks down the hallway and raps on Connor’s door. Hopefully it wakes him up the first time. Leon will keep knocking if he needs to, but he doesn’t want anyone else to hear and come ask him what he’s doing.

There is a long, excruciating minute before the door opens just enough for Connor, tousled and grumpy, to squint into the hallway at him.

“Leo?” he says. “What are you— what’s wrong?”

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Leon asks.

Maybe it’s the way his voice cracks, or maybe there’s something in the look on his face, but Connor’s brow creases and the sleepiness seems to dissipate.

“Yeah, come in,” he says, stepping back so Leon can do that. He’s wearing boxers and a t-shirt so old that there’s a big hole in one armpit. The ensemble makes him look strangely teenaged, like the shy, skinny kid Leon met when they first came into the league, and that for some reason makes him feel a little better about showing up pathetically in the middle of the night because some guy broke his heart.

Connor doesn’t turn on any lights, just crawls back into bed and turns the TV on with the remote. Leon follows, settling on top of the covers instead of under them. Clicking through channels, Connor eventually stops on one showing some sort of disaster action movie that Leon doesn’t recognize.

“Good enough,” Connor mutters. His eyes flick over to Leon. “What happened? You look like shit.”

“Feel like shit,” Leon says, trying for deadpan, but a lump rises up in his throat and all of a sudden he feels like crying again.

Connor looks at him for a long moment, the light from the television distorting the shadows on his face. “Weren’t you going to see Chucky tonight?”

“Yeah,” Leon croaks. He squeezes his eyes shut and is embarrassed to feel a hot tear slide down his cheek. Fuck. He scrubs it away, sniffling and sucking in a ragged breath. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Leo,” Connor says softly. “What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Leon’s voice is tight, wobbly at the edges. “I just want to watch a movie.” Onscreen, some sort of storm is wreaking havoc. People are yelling, but the volume is down pretty low.

There’s another long pause.

“Okay,” Connor finally says. Then, hesitantly, “Do you want a hug?”

Leon kind of really fucking does, but he doesn’t want to open his mouth again, because he will definitely make some sort of awful crying sound. But Connor moves anyway, scooting up and over to wrap his arms around Leon’s shoulders. Leon slumps against him and tries to breathe through it, but the dam inside him feels like it’s about to crack down the middle.

Connor squeezes him, his cheek pressed to Leon’s damp hair.

“Just tell me if you want us to hate him now,” he says. “Because if he doesn’t want you, he’s an idiot.”

#ask #ratnovel #hockey for ts #i started to write a normal answer to this and then was like..... actually i think i just want to write this scene for real lol #hope this is a good answer to your question anon <3

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fandxmslxt69 · 6 months

Text

Daisy (modern, small town AU)

mechanic!Frank castle x f!sunshine!reader

Warnings: Frank's an asshole lmao. UM me making up shit as I go about cars (i dont know enough abt them okay). Um, Frank works at an automobile shop/garage (he owns it more like but whatever). WRITTEN IN LIKE 3 HOURS AND AN IDEA THAT WAS BIRTHED THIS MORNING. Some swearing, lazy descriptions, probably HORRIBLE structure but idc idc idc.

Synopsis: You just moved to a small town, and just your luck, your car breaks down after a few errand runs. You have no choice but to go to the town's official Mr. Grumpy (Frank) to ask for help.

Word count: 1.8k (WHOOPS)

A/N: BAHAHAH SO THIS WAS BORN LIKE THIS MORNING/LAST NIGHT and i could NOT get the idea out of my head so I had to do SOMETHING about it. Yeah, there'll probably be more to this but FIRST, i have to go study after putting it off to finish this. SORRY IT MIGHT BE SOOO FUCKING OOC AND CRINGE BUT I WAS TOO LAZY TO WRITE IT PROPERLY! this is kind of just a set up/build up bit it gets BETTER promise promise anyway was this just me reading like 10 small town romances and going "all of them, but with Frank?" yeah basically, you're welcome.

Tags: YEAH um @soft-girl-musings its kinda your fault for encouraging me (im kidding ily) and um @runa-falls cuuuz yknow you <3 and Frank <3

Imagine a modern AU in a small little town where Frank owns the only garage there. It’s just a small happy town with a little community that grew up with each other- everyone knows Frank as Mr Grumpy- he’s always got that frown and those eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.

Imagine you’re new in town and you feel just a bit out of place in this tightly knitted community. You try to make some friends, but it’s hard fitting into already tight social circles.

Imagine your car breaking down on your way home from a grocery run. The front of smoking and its making weird jumbling and rumbling noises. You leave the car quickly, not wanting to be inside of it in case something goes wrong. You’re nowhere near your house, and the cute sandals you’re wearing are in no shape to walk the rest of the way. You really don’t want to barge into a random shop and ask for help. But you notice, a little far from the rest of the shops in town, a little store with an ugly neon sign that said GARAGE in big, flickering red letters. You sigh heavily, making sure to grab your keys from the car, along with your purse and phone, lock it, and start walking towards the shop.

Imagine walking into the little automobile shop to find it pretty much deserted. The walls were lined with different tires, tools and various car parts lined the little room with a small area left unlittered for the cash register. And yet, there was no one to man the station. You walk around, feeling hopeless, until you hear voices coming from behind the door at the back of the room.

Imagine walking through the door hesitantly into a big garage, and you’re greeted with the sight of a gorgeous shirtless man in loose jeans stained in grease stains. He’s bent over a car and wiping the windshield while a radio beside him blasts some country tunes. You stood in the doorway, mouth hanging slightly open at the sight. Who could blame you? His hair looked so soft, and from what you could see, his face was probably just godly. He looked heavenly,and he clearly didn’t hear you come in from how loud the music was. You clear your throat lightly, clutching the strap of your purse tightly. “Um, excuse me-” you say as quietly as you can, not entirely sure you want to draw his attention. Yet somehow he still hears you. His eyes snap up to meet yours and the look of peace on his face immediately transforms into a look of permanent annoyance.

Shit. He does have a pretty face. A sculpted jawline and a little stubble lined his jaw. Pretty eyes too.

Imagine the way his eyes would roam over you. Your hair held back in a little ponytail, your short blue sundress with daisies that barely just reaches your thighs. The way his pretty lips would set in a hard line and his jaw clenches, and while his eyes take in your pretty look, the way that dress rides up your thigh whenever you take a step, you can see his jaw tick and the frown lines forming.

“Yes?” He said slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“Um,” You shuffled a bit, carefully stepping into the garage, but making sure to keep a distance from him and the car. “Um, my uh, my car broke down, and I kind of need help,”

He wipes his hands on the towel tucked into the pocket of his jeans, walking around the car to stand in front of you. Well, more like tower over you. He was, to put it simply, enormous. At least 6 foot something with broad shoulders and a deliciously sculptured and defined chest. His muscles weren’t the pretty boy skinny things you’d see at the gym- his biceps looked big enough to crush a man’s skull, and his chest looked comfy enough to use as a pillow.

He clears his throat, and you realise you missed a question. You look up (practically STRAINING your neck) to meet his eyes. He definitely looks frustrated. Maybe he's annoyed that he has to repeat himself.

Imagine how mean he’d be about it- he doesn’t mean to be rude, or to come off as an asshole. He definitely didn’t mean to act as if your lack of knowledge in this situation bothered him. Normally he didn’t care, but the way you looked up at him with big worried eyes and the anxious fiddling of your hands just…ticked him off. He certainly doesn’t mean how condescending his tone is, but he just can’t help it. Pretty girls fucked him in the head.

“What’s wrong with your car, doll?”

You fiddled with a strand of your hair. “Um, I don’t actually know,” He lets out an annoyed grunt, running a hand down his face. “Where’d it stop?” “Um, just a little back,” You pointed behind you. “Not too far. I don’t know, it started smoking and making weird noises. Assumed it was bad, so I came here,” He shakes his head, throwing the towel in his hand to the side and grabbing a shirt from one of the chairs. “Yeah sweetheart, that is very bad,”

“Okay well, I figured,” You hesitated. “Can you uh, can you fix it?” “Depends,” He grunted, pulling the shirt over his head. He’d walk past you out front to grab his truck keys from the cash desk, making a couple more caveman noises to indicate that you should follow him.

Imagine getting to his truck and you stand there awkwardly because there’s no fucking way you could get in there. It’s too high up, and you sure as hell can’t just jump into it. You throw your purse in, brace your hands on the door, and try to lift your leg high enough to reach the step.

Imagine Frank getting so fucking pissed when your dress rides up to barely even cover the curve of your ass and he just places his (very big, very warm) hands on your waist and hauls you up, firmly sitting you on the chair and slamming the door shut.

Imagine how the short drive to where your car stopped is just filled with really awkward silence as you clutch your purse to your chest. Frank's got the radio on, an arm hanging out the window, but his other hand on the steering wheel is holding it so tightly his knuckles are turning white. And he looks almost calm, if not for the way he’s clenching his jaw so hard you think he might shatter his teeth.

You pull up to your car, and Frank whistles quietly as he gets out of his truck and walks over to examine it. “What d'ya do to this thing?”

You practically hopped out of the truck, frowning. “Nothin’! I didn’t even do anything. I was just driving back home and it broke down,”

“Well ya must’ve done somethin’ if she broke down this bad,” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Can you open the front?”

“What if it like- explodes on you? What then?” You ask horrified. That’s a horrible impression to leave on someone.

“Not gonna explode, now open the damn front,”

You nod hesitantly, unlocking the car to open up the front. He tries to blow away the smoke with his hand, but it’s really no use. “Yeah, might need to take it back to the garage,”

“But-” You felt your bottom lip wobbling. How could everything go to shit so fast. “I need to get home!”

Despite how grumpy Frank wanted to stay, he can’t help soften when it’s clear how panicked you felt. He knew you were the newest person in town, and he also knew he’d have everyone on his ass if he didn’t try and help a little more.

But he’s still gonna be an ass about it. “I’ll drive you back to your house and send someone for your car, no need to cry ‘bout it, doll,”

You nod hesitantly, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, thank you,” And then you smiled this shy, grateful smile at him and he felt like the air was knocked right out of his lungs. You were gorgeous, he knew that, but looking at you now he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. You looked….cute. And he wanted to keep that smile on your face. Shit. Imagine Frank realising just how fucked he is, having to help such a cute and pretty girl out, he’d just shut himself off even more. His frown deepens and he only communicates in grumbles and grunts as he drives you back home and calls someone to come pick up your car. He only holds out his hand to ask for your keys- not even uttering a word, just holds out those really sexy hands. He just sits in his truck with his arm out the window as you hop out of the seat and make your way up your porch. He feels so screwed. Even your house looked cute.

“Thank you,” You call out to him.

He raises a hand in return and then he pulls out from in front of the house and drives back to his shop.

You falter a bit, feeling a tad stung at how shut off he is. Maybe not everyone is as open as you were, but he could have at least smiled. You sigh, walking into your house and dropping your purse at the door. You discard your shoes, and head to the kitchen to grab a couple snacks and collapse on the couch, feeling overall exhausted and drained from the whole day. Maybe you won’t have to see Grumpy for another few days- just so you could cool down.

The landline rings a few minutes after, and you frown. Who the hell would have the landline’s number? You get up and answer the phone. “Hello?” “Hey daisy, it’s Frank. You left your groceries in the car,” Frank’s voice fills your ear (god he sounds so…so hot)

Your eyes widen and you gasp in shock. “Fuck, I did!”

He hums in response. “Yeah. Bet you need those, don’tcha?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I kind of do,”

There’s commotion from Frank’s side, it sounds a lot like someone yelling at him. He sighs heavily. “Alright daisy, I’ll figure somethin’ out f’r you,” And then he hangs up.

Daisy? Figure it out? And why was it so oddly comforting to know he could handle this without you needing to worry?

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #the punisher #jon bernthal

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