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#it’s so infuriating that I can’t even talk about how I feel about the ending without getting mocked at home
puck-luck · 2 days
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let it slip | trevor zegras
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warnings: daddy kink. i said what i said. teasing, dirty talk, begging, embarrassment, orgasm denial to a certain extent, unprotected p in v sex, minimal choking, one sentence of overstimulation, potential use of "y/n" but i honestly forgot (i just reread this too, but i don't know if it uses y/n) pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader accidentally calls trevor "daddy" in bed and it doesn't go to shit! wc: 861
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Trevor was infuriating. You knew that before you started dating him, having known his friends for a good year before you two started going out. You’d hung out with Trevor’s group a couple of times and you knew well that he had a mouth on him. Normally, you were able to ignore his comments or use them to your advantage– but today, he was just teasing. He was running his mouth and holding you still on his cock, pulling out each time you tried to get him to move. Whether it was you grinding down, clenching, or pulling at Trevor’s shoulders and hair, it ended in the same result. He pulled out and, with an annoying smirk, waited for you to beg him to slide his cock back inside you. So really, you couldn’t help it when the word slipped out of your mouth.
“Daddy,” you complained when Trevor pulled his cock out of your pussy again. Then, when you realized what you said, you stilled. Your eyes went wide and you clamped your mouth shut, even bringing a hand up to cover your lips.
Trevor raised his eyebrows in surprise for just a second before smoothing his expression. “Is that how you want this to be?” He asked, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. When you kept your mouth shut, still reeling from your inadvertent admission, Trevor shifted his hips forward and pressed into you, barely. “Baby,” he said quietly. “Say that again.”
You let out a whimper and shook your head, embarrassed that you had revealed this to him in the middle of sex and not in a better moment, where you could explain yourself. You could feel your cheeks burning with redness. “Trevor,” you said instead, and cringed at the way your voice broke.
Slowly, Trevor shook his head. “No,” he drawled. “No, baby, call me what you want to call me.” He begins to rock forward, slow and calculated, making sure you feel every inch of him. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles on it at the same pace, staring as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Come on, sweet girl. It’s okay. Let me be your daddy. Let me make you feel good. Let go.”
You cry out as he starts to snap his hips in a more brutal pace. He’s still staring, taking in every single minute change in your expression. He’s good with his cock and good with his fingers and he’s great with his words, and he knows that he just can’t let you come until you call him ‘daddy’ again. He lets your release build until he knows you’re about to snap and he stops, buried completely inside you.
“You want to come, babydoll?” Trevor asks, wiping the tear from the side of your eye that leaked out when he stopped moving.
“Please,” you plead. “Please, Trevor.”
He makes a disapproving noise and begins to pull out of you, but it’s unbearable. You lock your ankles at the small of his back and hug tightly around his neck and he lets you immobilize him. He could break free of you in an instant with that hockey strength he has, but he’s waiting for you to say the word that’s on the tip of your tongue with baited breath.
“Daddy,” you finally breathe out. “Please, make me come. I’m so close, please don’t take it away, I’ll do whatever you want.”
He snaps his hips forward and resumes fucking you like his life depends on it, reaching one of his hands up to your throat and resting it there. “Keep calling me that,” he tells you. “And I’ll let you come.”
You nearly shriek when he presses down on your throat. Every sense is heightened when he chokes you and his cock presses into you so, so deep with every thrust. You’re babbling, calling him by his new title practically every other word as the pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach.
Trevor presses his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his nose nudging yours with each thrust. “Come for daddy, baby. Show me how good you feel.”
As soon as you let go, you can feel him letting go as well. He spills inside of you with a deep groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You reach down between your bodies and feel the way he continues to slide in and out of you through his aftershocks. His come is leaking out of you with each pass of his hips and he just continues to fuck it back in. He doesn’t even pull out, just maneuvers so you’re laying on top of him on the bed.
“Daddy, huh?” Trevor asks quietly. “I like that.”
You bury your head in his neck this time, blushing and hiding. “‘S embarrassing.”
“Mm, I disagree,” Trevor hums. He slides a finger over your clit and you clench down on him due to the overstimulation. “That one little word has got you this worked up and makes me want to stay inside you all night long.”
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notes: finally, my darkest (not dark at all because i'm very comfortable with it) secret has been revealed! yes, readers, i've been a fan of the daddy kink all along. and you know who's daddy as fuck? TREVOR ZEGRAS. not much else to say. hoping everyone enjoyed. definitely nsfw. ....will be including the daddy kink in my works as often as i find necessary. maybe i can pavlov y'all into enjoying it too... hmm...
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dykedvonte · 7 days
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If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.
#this is slightly joking but like also not but also like am mixed on Ulysses on many factors#infuriating because i sympathize with his pain but it’s like#he is a well written and fundamentally flawed character whose hypocrisy I found doubly in#black characters I can tell were designed by white people with a semblance of an understanding of activism and bipoc oppression#but not enough for the character to not feel like hand holding for the majority white audience#plus personal grips with the whole twisted hairs thing and reference to slave braiding patterns#Ulysses irks me as a black person on a weird personal level and I can go into debt on why him being black is a big detractor for him to me#like he continues this cycle of distancing himself from his roots before remembering over and over again through his actions#he leave so much in his wake that the courier ends up correcting or helping like in honest hearts and old world blues because he’s self#righteous in a subtle way even to himself that he believes he stand out of his one man rule when he does not play an active hand#saw a post talk about how you choose to continue moving through his story and can leave at any moment and this it is partially your fault#but what of the oath that is set before you and is forced to take that he set up#I do not have to walk it but when I do the steps are not my own but those taken for me#you have to go out of your way to change it which is not something he expects because he’s playing by a story he’s been perpetuating in his#head about you two and the effect one man has when he’s continually been that one man more so than you as many of his actions directly lead#to the one you go through also the irony in the flag he continues to bear being the real reason he has no home#like he reps it when the package is likely enclave and thus use the same symbol#also still can’t get over how anyone could have delivered the package and he tries so hard to act like it was the couriers destiny or fate#when this was the one case of chance and that once man was likely a enclave engineer and how it’s really is never one man#it the process and he’s so annoying about it like he’s a cool character but if you don’t believe in his philosophy or already went through#these ideas cause they are very common talking points in poc especially BIPOC spaces he’s just old hashings and stunted#fallout#fallout new vegas#Ulysses you upset me but I’m like I feel you could be better if you weren’t so incessant#I don’t think I ever want to make a serious post stating this about him just because I’d start yapping and it’d never get finished#ulysses fnv#fnv ulysses#lonesome road
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melzula · 2 months
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Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
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He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
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ageofstarkey · 6 months
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yes, really ✰ m. riddle
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prompt: “i knew you’d be here”
summary: you’re drawing in the astronomy tower to clear your head & mattheo finds you
pairing/dynamic: best friend!mattheo x reader, mutual pining but they don’t really talk about it???? just two oblivious besties in love w each other
warnings: mentions of smoking (cigarettes), very very mild innuendo?? not even??? idk i think that’s pretty much it
note: i’m actually very happy with this one (i think) so i hope y’all enjoy :) i’m still planning on working on some requests, but i just wanted to start w something cute n fun while i had the inspo
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comments & reblogs are so appreciated!! <3
✰ ✰ ✰
“can’t sleep?”
in other circumstances, you might’ve been startled - but you recognize the voice in a second.
mattheo stands just inches away from you - the scuffed toes of his black chucks nearly touching your own.
with a soft little sigh, you set aside your sketchbook. “no. what about you?”
mattheo shrugs, before moving to sit beside you. “haven’t even bothered to try yet.” he slides down the wall, letting his long legs sprawl in front of him. then - with his thigh pressed up against your own, he begins fishing around in his jacket pocket. you watch him curiously, lips quirking upwards in understanding when he produces a familiar gold zippo and a pack of smokes.
even though it’s a miserably cold night, the heat of mattheo’s leg against your own is enough to make you dizzy. in a vain attempt to calm your quickly beating heart, you draw your legs up against your chest, before wrapping your arms around them. you watch as mattheo slots a cigarette between his lips, letting your cheek fall against your knees. “you know those are bad for you, right?”
he offers you a familiar little grin, cigarette bobbing between his lips as he responds. “i had no idea.”
you roll your eyes, bumping your shoulder against his. “you should quit.”
“maybe you should pick it up.”
a quiet little giggle slips past your lips. “could you imagine me smoking?”
mattheo laughs softly as he exhales, and you pretend not to notice how he blows the smoke away from you. “not really.” he takes another slow drag, and you watch distractedly as the cherry illuminates his handsome features. “it’d be hot though.” he says the words casually, through a mouthful of smoke, and your cheeks suddenly feel like they’re on fire.
“mattheo!”
he shrugs with his lips tugged upwards in an infuriating smirk. “what?”
you roll your eyes fondly, suddenly unable to look at anything but your shoes. “you are such an arse.”
for a few moments, the two of you slip into a comfortable silence. while mattheo finishes his half-smoked cigarette, you gaze distractedly up at the stars. eventually, you grow tired of the quiet - opting to ask the question you’d been mulling over since he turned up in front of you. “why’d you come up here, anyways?”
mattheo’s quiet for a second and your mind races anxiously in wait. then, he stubs out the end of his cigarette with a shrug. “i knew you’d be here.”
your heart aches fondly in your chest. “really?”
another shrug, and then he’s turning to you with this soft little smile that seems to be reserved for you and you alone. “yes, really.”
he says it as if it’s obvious - maybe it is - and you can hardly contain your stupid little giggle. “oh.”
“oh?” mattheo’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, but his knowing-grin never wavers.
it’s your turn to shrug - you’re not sure if you can bring yourself to do anything more at this point.
he bumps his shoulder against yours, leaning in to look at you. “is it a good “oh” at least?”
he’s being awful on purpose and you pretend to hate it. with a meek little nod, you finally meet his eyes. “it’s a good “oh””
mattheo grins, dropping his arm across your shoulders. “good.”
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eveningepiphany · 6 months
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pirates gold, masterlist——✶
↳ pirate!harry x royal!reader
series summary: being a royal, you always knew you were meant to keep your wits about you. despite never fitting into your status, a lapse of your judgement leads you to getting taken captive by a group of pirates, and their captain, harry.
series warnings: getting captured by pirates, descriptions and talk of kidnapping, mentions of weapons and death, violent and heavy themes, alcohol, sexual tension, swearing, enemies to lovers. there will be smut!!
all parts will have individual warnings as we go
——✶——
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↳[PART ONE]
published!
after you’re taken captive, you wake in a cell, and are trying to gauge exactly how much danger you’re really in being stuck on this ship.
❝Nice to see you’re awake, princess. Can you open up them eyes for me?❞
harry is a stubborn— but awfully attractive— captain. you are an equally stubborn prisoner. the two of you are very quickly figuring out just how far you’re willing go to get out of this situation.
——✶——
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↳[PART TWO]
published!
challengers are arising as life on the ship continues. not only that, but all kinds of tension is building between you and harry. good and bad… and something that feels forbidden to even entertain in your minds eye.
❝You’re infuriating, you know? Unbelievably so. And I feel it all the way in my stomach.❞
yet somehow through all of this, you unexpectedly find a glimmer of hope. just not how you thought you would.
——✶——
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↳[PART THREE]
published!
finally, a break from the ship is in sight. you and harry end up in a very pirate-y bar, but even a good night can’t last forever. and seemingly, neither can uncomplicated feelings.
“Does that scare you?” He asks, and then asks deeper, “Do I scare you?”
jealousy, protectiveness and a sense of undeniable wanting are no such feelings harry wants to have for someone he’s holding captive. yet he’s stuck with them nonetheless.
——✶——
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↳[PART FOUR]
to be published!
summary is to be developed and written out. but this will be updated when it’s in production <3
I look forward to seeing how you all like this series! and thank you again from the bottom of my heart for your never ending support.
——✶——
to be added to the taglist, let me know in the replies and you’ll be tagged in ever part uploaded of this series in the future🤍
you can find my full masterlist here!
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goingmerryfics · 25 days
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Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk
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Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.
Shanks
Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between
Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion
Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him
“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”
Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained
The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing
Especially when it comes to keeping you safe
Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm
While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned
Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain
He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk
But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue
You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you
He doesn’t touch you
It’s painfully silent for a while
Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension
“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”
You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours
He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it
He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe
“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
You do
You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms
Buggy
Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here
Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it
Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through
But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another
Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating
Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though
Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life
Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though
He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal
“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”
He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose
He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin
He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago
As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious
He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again
It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again
“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”
You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place
“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”
He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose
He looks like a damn mess
It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you
he pouts up at you and you cave
He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long
Mihawk
If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it
Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you
Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes
He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?
But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is
Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt
Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book
This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away
“Darling, we need to talk right away.”
Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night
The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone
So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge
Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning
But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability
He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does
And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are
If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.
“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”
It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place
You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence
He can work with that
He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small
He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect
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deansapplepie · 4 months
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Everything with you, everything from you
Summary: Daryl and you always loved each other, neither of you acting on your feelings and him always scaring all the men that had interest on you. That is until you can’t take it anymore.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader
Era: Commonwealth
Genre: Smut, Romance
Warnings: NSFW, smut (there’s a small plot), sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids), creampie, Subish Daryl, Subish Reader, Sweet Dirty Talk, Swearing, Age Gap (everybody is of age, but Daryl’s concerned somehow. Reader is on her 30s and Daryl on his 50s). 18+ Minors, please do not interact.
Word count: 5,505
A/N: English is not my first language so it may contain errors, even though I proofread it. It’s lightly implied reader is plus size, but everyone can read because it’s just small hints of it.
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You were infuriated.
He infuriated you in the same amount he made your heart beat faster because of him.
It had been years of the damn apocalypse, years that you met him, years that your mom died and let you alone. It had been years since he became your best friend, protector and trainer. He taught you many things. He taught you how to fight, hunt and track. He also taught you about love, but he didn’t know it or he fakes he didn’t make you fall in love with him all those years ago.
It first started as a silly crush, when the world ended you were so young… you were in your first years of college when it all happened. You and your mom had become close with the Dixons at the quarry, Merle was a dick, but your mom made him respect both of you, as much as he could. Daryl… was Daryl, he was quiet and grumpy, but he was gentle and caring on his own way. Your mom’s origins wasn’t very different from the two rednecks, so she was able to understand them and where they came from, you were lucky that her and your dad could give you a better life. When the quarry was attacked by walkers and you mom got bitten and died, he was everything you had.
Still today, even with your big found family, you and him were like a package, you even shared an apartment at the Commonwealth and raised Judith and RJ together while Michonne and Rick were away. But your package… this package never included a relationship with him. You were on your 30s already, no boyfriend, no relationship and you couldn’t even blame yourself, guys did come to you and wanted to flirt with you, make plans with you… but he… he always ruined everything. He’d scare the men or make it impossible for you to go out with any of them. In the beginning, you thought it was ok, he was just worried, you were young and you were all still careful about people outside of your small circle. Then you started to think he also felt something for you and it made your heart beat fast and butterflies fly on your stomach. He never acted, he never did anything, and honestly you were tired of waiting for him, you were tired of being alone, you wanted to live just like everyone else. Have someone to hold hands, cuddle, have some physical contact and make plans for your crazy uncertain future.
You entered your shared apartment after him and knowing the kids were on a slumber party at Aaron’s, you closed the door with all the strength you had.
“Wha’ was that for?!” He stopped on his tracks and turned to you. He knew what it was for, He was just playing dumb.
“What was that for?” You sarcastically repeated his question. “Why do you have to ruin all my chances of going on a date with someone?”
“That guy’s a prick.” He leaned on the counter of the kitchen.
“Funny, ‘cause every guy that has some interest on me is a prick for you.” You took some cold water from the fridge, maybe it was going to help you calming down.
“Not my problem you’ve got a bad taste in man.” He picked an apple from the tray and started eating it nonchalantly.
You looked at him, more specifically at the back of his head that you could see from where you were at the kitchen, he felt that soon your stare was going to make a hole on his head, but he tried to fake normalcy. “Yeah, I think I really got a bad taste in man. But apparently that’s your problem since you can’t let any of them get close to me.”
“Why do you keep doing that, Daryl?” You asked, honestly, and he turned to look at you.
“Tomorrow, we have family game night. It’s important.” He said, and that was what he had just said to Jake the guy from your work that asked you to go out on Saturday.
“And I can’t miss it one week?” He was full of bullshit when he wanted to. “What about Sunday? Why did you say I couldn’t on Sunday?”
“Because… I don’t like him.” You rolled your eyes. You walked to the other side of the counter, one hand on it and the other on your waist.
“You don’t need to, I’m the one that has to like him.” You blurted out. You were tired incredibly tired of that sick silly game of his.
“I…” you didn’t let him finish.
“I don’t want to be alone, Daryl. Nobody comes close to me because of you. If you feel anything for me, grow some balls and do something about it, or stop getting on my way.”
The following seconds were a blur, in one moment you were feet apart and in the next you were being lifted to sit on the counter, Daryl between your legs and his lips crushing against yours. A hot messy hungry kiss on your lips, for a brief moment you were surprised, but then you closed your eyes and just let yourself enjoy the moment, take this once in a lifetime opportunity that you have been waiting for years. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your hands tangled and tugging on his hair. You kissed him back with the same enthusiasm and eagerness, you had dreamed about this for so long. His left hand was on your lower back and the right one was holding a handful of your thighs, your thick delicious thighs that he wanted for so long. You tugged a little harsher on his hair eliciting a groan from him, he pulled you against his body and you could feel his hard on, knowing it was all for you. He gave open mouthed kisses on your jaw and descended to your neck, making you grind yourself against him and a loud moan come from you.
And he stopped.
He simply stopped and pushed himself away from you.
“Fuck.” He said as reality hit him, or what felt like reality for him. “I shouldn’t have done this I…”
“Funny, ‘cause your hard dick says otherwise.” You said still sitting on the counter, cheeks blushed, lips plump and all the tension that had gone threatening to come back. “I’m not complaining Daryl, actually it’s the opposite. So why would it be a mistake?”
“This isn’t right. Ya’re younger than me. Shit… ya could be my daughter.” He said, hand on his forehead, the other on his face.
“Unless you fucked my mom, and I don’t know. There are zero chances of you being my dad.” You tried reasoning with him, was it what he was thinking all this time and not acting on it?
“Ya understand what I said. Ya’re way younger. I’m on my 50s and you on your 30s it’s… it’s not…”
“Right?” You asked. “Is it wrong that 2 consenting adults want each other? I’m not a kid anymore, you just said I’m on my thirties. When we met each other maybe it could have been messed up, I mean I was young and naïve, but still of age. But now? You really want to put the age gap talking on me?”
“Didn’t say ya’re a kid.” He retorted trying to not look at you since your flustered image wouldn’t help him controlling himself.
“If you don’t, it doesn’t make any sense thinking that what happened right now was a mistake.” You jumped from the counter and put yourself in front of him. “What is it? Are you attracted to me but is ashamed of me? Am I not beautiful enough? Not thin enough?”
“I ain’t this shallow, Y/N.” He looked at you, and it broke him seeing hurt and self doubt all over you. “I made a promise to your mother, before she died that night in the quarry. I promised I’d protect you…”
“And you did. I don’t need your protection anymore, you taught me how to defend myself. I don’t even need you to eat, I can hunt my own food if needed. So you’re free you from this burden, I should have never been your responsibility.” You were so angry at that moment tears on your eyes threatening to fall down, his promise should have nothing to do with it. “Well. Fuck. So here’s the thing, if you’re not taking me, acting on your feelings or whatever, Stop hindering other people to do so! I’m not gonna wait on you my whole life and be unhappy just because you’re so close minded.” The words left your mouth like the water flowing from a broken dam. You took your bag again and headed to the door.
“Where are ya going?” He asked before you could leave.
“I don’t know. Gonna decide once I leave. Don’t wait for me. I’m not coming back for game night, tell the kids I’m sorry.” You opened the door and left, no looking back.
He stayed there for a moment staring at the door, he had just let you go. He had you on his arms, just like he dreamed many times and he threw it away, he didn’t do all the things he wanted to do to you. He didn’t showed you how much you meant to him, he just pushed you away and probably lost you, not only on the ways he wanted to have you, but probably also as a friend. He was stuck, desperate and helpless, he didn’t know what to do now that you were gone.
When you left the apartment, you didn’t know where exactly you were going. Now, you had two possibilities. You could go to Carol’s she was your friend, but she was also his friend and he would want to go to her and you would lose your moment with her. So instead, you decided going to Rosita’s, they worked together, but he would not look for her to vent about everything and he knew Rosita would kick his ass if he went there looking for you, or at least you thought so. A plus was, you could also use Coco cuteness to calm and warm your heart, since your kids were not around.
When you knocked at Rosita’s door she wasn’t expecting to see you, and right when she saw you she brought you inside and put you on a tight hug. You had watery eyes and when your friend embraced you so kindly you couldn’t control the tears anymore and let them roll.
“What happened babe?” She asked sitting on the sofa with you and holding your hands. “Who hurt you? Was it Daryl? Want me to kick his ass?”
“He ruined my chances to go on a date, again. We fought at home. We kissed and…” Rosita didn’t let you finish given the new information that was something you never said before when you complained about the archer.
“Wow, slow down. What? You kissed? So why are you here crying?” She truly needed to understand, she knew there was probably more to it, but she couldn’t hold herself when you mentioned kissing.
“Yes, and it was the best kiss of my life. But it doesn’t matter, he ruined everything. When it was getting heated, he simply pushed away from me and said everything was a mistake.” You said, the angry feeling about all the happenings coming again to your mind.
“Oh, he didn’t!”
“Yes, he did. He says I’m too young for him. He’s…ridiculous!” You wanted to pull out your hair, he was making you crazy. “I hate him!”
“You don’t hun…” Rosita pulled you for another hug and you just rested your head on her shoulders.
“I… I think I’m giving up Rosi… I can’t keep losing time like that.” You had already lost so much, not that he ever made it easy for you to know other people and find someone, but maybe you should have imposed yourself many years ago and things wouldn’t have gotten so bad like now.
Daryl couldn’t stay at home. The silence there without you were deafening, he left the apartment and went to the only place he knew he could find some solace if it wasn’t with you. He knocked on the door and waited for the answer. He wasn’t expecting for this person to get the door.
“Hey, Daryl! Is everything, ok? You look terrible.” Ezekiel told the hunter while holding the door.
“I… I didn’t know ya were here. I’m sorry, dun wanna to spoil yer moment.” Daryl scratched his neck nervously.
“Nah, you’re not disturbing. Come in, Carol and I were just having dinner and talking.” The former king invited him in.
He entered the apartment and ended at the table opening his heart to Carol and Ezekiel about everything that happened. Carol listened to everything in silence, but she already knew everything she needed to know.
“You know she’s right, don’t you?” Carol said when Daryl stopped telling them everything.
“I dunno if she’s right.” He stubbornly answered.
“You’ve liked her since when? The farm? And she also liked you for a long time and you already knew that.” Carol told the obvious, but at the moment she felt like she needed to draw for the observant and smart archer.
“Since the quarry.” He mumbled.
“Ok, since the quarry. Whatever. Even earlier and you still act like you shouldn’t be together because of your 20 years difference or something.” Sincerely she thought both of you would have it sorted out a long time ago. “She’s not a little girl and you’re also not a little boy, so stop acting like one.”
“Daryl, love’s something so rare in the world we live in. You shouldn’t let some prejudice like this prevent you from being happy with the person you love.” Ezekiel spoke for the first time, he was careful with his words.
“I ruined everything already.” He took a deep breath. Damn. The way you looked at him, he felt like the biggest asshole in the world, keeping you away from happiness but also didn’t acting on both of your feelings.
“You can still do things right. You just need to quit this nonsense about age. She’s a good heart, and I know she’ll forgive you if you talk to her.” Carol felt like she needed to grab both of your hands and guide you through this like two kids, or you would stay in this cycle forever. “She forgave when you left with Merle, all the times you lied to keep her safe and I’m pretty sure she forgave you for all the years you stayed out there coming and going to look for Rick, and you ended up with Leah, you and Y/N weren’t anything other than friends, but don’t you think it hurt her while she loved and couldn’t have you? She wouldn’t be around if she didn’t forgive you.”
He didn’t say anything, he looked down and started to chew on his thumb, an old habit of his when he was anxious.
“Now, I know it will sound cliché and cheesy, but forget all this shit and follow your heart. Go find her.” She gave a small squeeze on the archer’s hand and have him an encouraging smile.
“Do you have any idea where she could be?” Ezekiel asked.
“Maybe. I hope she’s there and not going after that fucking prick.” He answered, jealous rising when he remembered your colleague asking you out earlier. “Thanks, gonna see if I find her. If not I’ll just need to wait for her.” He got up and was ready to leave.
“Go get her pookie! If you need some extra time I don’t mind taking the kids and having game night with them here.” Carol said taking Daryl to the door. “If you both don’t solve this, I’m going to kick both of your dumb asses.” She completed.
He walked on the corridors of the old building following the path he already knew by heart, whenever he’d not find you, he knew you would be there. He was nervous, it could go all kinds of wrong, but he needed to try if he still had a chance. He stopped in front of the door and took some breaths before knocking on it.
You were at Rosita’s kitchen preparing some pasta for both of you to eat when Coco started to cry and she had go look after the baby. In that specific moment you heard a knock on the door. “Can you answer it, Y/N? It’s probably Eugene or Gabe.” Rosita said already with Coco in her arms.
“Yes, of course.” You lowered the fire you were using to cook the sauce and went to the door, opening it without even looking who it was. When you opened you met the last and first person you wanted to see at the moment, damn your lovesickness for him. You were just going to shut the door right at his face, even though the house wasn’t yours, but he was faster and held the door. “What do you want? I told you to not wait for me.” You tried to sound monotone, but you were pretty sure you sounded angry.
“Ya didn’t say anything about coming after ya. I want ya, that’s what I want. I’ve always wanted ya, and I’ve been an idiot trying to deny it. We’re both adults and I was being stubborn and dumb about it. I love you and…” he stopped to catch a breath since he hadn’t breathed since he started talking. “…I’m incredibly sorry. Please forgive me, and come home with me.”
“Daryl, I love you too. You know I love you. If you go back on your words…” you started to say, your voice shaken with emotion, but was interrupted.
“I won’t. I promise.” He took your hand in his and looked at your eyes. “Let’s get home and make things right.”
“Go girlie! Grab your man!” Rosita shouted from behind and you had almost forgot she was there. Daryl had ignored it completely just now being aware of opening his heart to you in front of Rosita, and Coco.
“I’m going er… Can you just wait a minute? I’m finishing dinner for Rosi. As you can see, she’s a little busy with Coco.” You said going back to the stove and checking if the sauce was good.
While you finished the dinner for Rosita he sat on the sofa near Rosita and the baby, and they talked about something you couldn’t hear from the kitchen. You considered you must be dreaming, this moment couldn’t be real, but you just burnt your pinkie on the pan and it hurt like a bitch, so you were definitely not sleeping.
When you finished you told Rosita it was ready, you gave her a warm hug and you kissed Coco goodbye. You left the apartment with Daryl following you and soon his hand engulfed yours and you could swear you were in heaven, you felt all flustered. Daryl was no different, he was a blushing mess from his cheeks to his ears. His mouth a thin line, his lips pressed against each other trying to contain the smile that wanted to come out.
Once you got home you opened the door and entered first, you waited for Daryl to lock the door and when he turned to you… You attacked him, you crushed your lips and body against him pressing him against the door. Daryl wasn’t going to lie that he didn’t want that to happen, he wanted that a lot, but he wasn’t expecting you’d like to engage in such activities so soon. He had imagined maybe cuddling with you on sofa or bed, talking about you or making dinner together. But he wasn’t going to sign a complaint, he was more than fine with your choice for your first night as a couple.
He quickly kissed you back, his hands coming to your back sliding on it and ending on your butt which he grabbed and pulled your body against his. You gasped in surprise and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, your hands were on his nape and on his hair tugging at it and scratching his scalp. You felt his erection against your belly and you couldn’t resist but slip your hand down his body and touch it, earning a groan from him. It was so hard and by the outline you could see it was thick too. You just couldn’t wait to feel and taste his cock, you unbuckled his belt and worked on the zipper opening his pants.
You shoved your hand inside of his pants now groping his dick with only the thin layer of his boxers separating your hand from touching it skin to skin. He threw his head back leaning on the door, groans and grunts escaping his lips.
“Do you like it Daryl?” You asked your eyes on his face registering all of his reactions on your memory.
“Yeah, a lot… ugh…” The way he was at your mercy was so delicious that you couldn’t contain yourself into teasing him.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” Your hand went up a little, your thumb holding on his waistband.
“Yeah, ‘m gonna be good. All for ya… Anything for ya…” he answered, his eyes closed his mouth agape and a little sweat on his temple.
“Good, so I’m gonna take good care of you. Ok?” You said while you pushed his boxers down with his trousers letting his dick spring free from it looking deliciously glorious. You took it in your hand, pumping it, playing with it… gods… your mouth was watering. “It’s this hard for me baby?”
“Yeah, always this hard fer ya.” He nodded, a groan escaping his lips at each different touch on him.
You got to your knees and he wasn’t expecting this, this wasn’t like he imagined your first time together to be, but again, he wasn’t complaining, he’d take everything you wanted to give him and you’d have more time to do it in all the ways you could and wanted.
You pumped his cock a little bit more and before giving it all of your attention you gave a delicate kiss on his balls. “Oh, fuck…” he hissed, goddamn how did you come so boldly like this? You licked them, your hand never stopping pumping his shaft and your eyes never living his face. Now he looked at you he wanted to watch you with the face of an angel work sinfully with your mouth. You started sucking on his balls making him moan and god, it was delicious hearing him moaning. You sucked both sides of it and just by doing it you had already a pool in your panties. Not that you wanted any other man, but after this you’d want to only suck his dick.
Your mouth left his balls and went to the base of his cock, giving open mouth kisses while your hand would wipe its head. You put both of your hands on his firm thighs and licked all along his shaft. “Damn! How can ya do it so well, angel?” He hissed, hands flattened on the door and the wall.
“You cockblocked me all those years, but at least I had some fun before the world ended.” You said before kissing the tip of his dick, just to put it in your mouth and swirl your tongue on it.
He wanted to throw a sassy remark at you, but at this point his brain couldn’t formulate anything coherent so he decided to just appreciate what you were giving him. One of his hands went to your head massaging your scalp while the other continued supporting him on the wall, it was so good that he felt like he would fall. You’d take little by little, more and more of him while you hummed on it at how it tasted deliciously like Daryl and his pre cum. You started bobbing your head up and down, going further and further, his moans and his hand on your head encouraging you to continue and when he alerted he was about to cum you slowed a bit, you wanted it on the top of your tongue, you wanted to fully taste and savor him. You touched his balls while sucking him and soon he was shooting his seed inside your mouth while he grunted and moaned your name. You swallowed every drop of it, not wasting anything.
“Tasty…” You wiped your mouth and he brought you from your knees to stand up.
His lips crashed immediately on yours, changing positions and pressing you against the wall. His taste on your lips and on your tongue making him taste himself on your mouth. He kicked his pants and boxers like he could without breaking your kiss, still wearing his boots, but now his legs were free to move. He lifted you from the floor and you got the cue to put your legs around his waist, her urged you to take your shirt off and took a moment to kiss your neck, shoulders and collar bones.
He started to walk, taking you to his room and you couldn’t care less as you took this time to kiss, nibble and suck on his neck. He threw you on his bed and took his boots off frantically, you were on your elbows observing him as he took your shoes off and threw them anywhere in the room. You observed him only using a black sweater, bare legs and his cock that you had sucked the life of a few minutes ago was already standing proudly. You licked your lips and he didn’t let it pass, having a smirk on his face.
He came back to you hovering you on the bed in between your legs, taking your lips one more time while his hand travelled down your body palming your covered bra. His hand went to your back and how he was able to open it so easily was a mystery to both of you. He massaged your breasts with both hands giving slight pinches on your erected nipples taking moans from you. His mouth came to your left breast while his hand took care of the other and his other hand descended to work on opening your jeans.
Once your pants were open he pulled them from your body taking your panties too. God, there was too many layers he needed to have you. He came back with his mouth to give the same attention to your right breast while his hand covered your wet covered pussy.
“Is this by just sucking my cock?” He took his mouth from your breast spit slipping from his mouth. “I barely played with ya.”
His fingers slipped between your folds making you whimper. “Princess, I made ya a question. Don’t ya wanna be a good girl and answer?” He watched you, observing every reaction you had. His thumb touching your clit and circling it, a cry leaving your lips.
“Yeah… it’s because of your cock.” You replied breathlessly. “It’s so delicious… ugh…” One finger slid inside your cunt.
“Are ya my good girl?” Husky voice, his finger pumping in and out of you.
“Yeah…” A second finger went inside of you. “Ugh… Dar…”
“And who d’ya belong to?” He asked finger fucking you, a lick to your neck savoring you and sweat.
“You… I’m yours…” Your hips bucked onto his fingers. He started scissoring, his thumb pressed on your clit.
“Whose pussy is this, hugh?” You were a trembling moaning mess, your cunt clenching around his fingers.
Damn. You were close. “Daryl’s! It’s yours…” His fingers going in and out of you, playing with your button till you burst out in your orgasm clenching and spasming on his fingers. His name being moaned again and again.
“Fuck. Ya’re so good fer me.” He kissed you passionately, fingers pumping you slowly, till he broke your kiss, just to have a taste of you from his fingers and slipping them in your mouth so you could suck and taste it too. “Such a good girl… what should be yer reward?”
“You know what I want… but first…” you tugged at this black sweater that he was still wearing, fuck, you wanted to feel his body against yours, skin to skin, the mix of your scents with sweat and the smell of sex.
He took out his shirt throwing it on the floor and coming back to you, looking at your eyes, his hands caressing your head scratching your scalp. “Now, tell whatcha want sunshine…”
“I want your dick, full inside of me. Please…” You pleaded your hands wandering on his chest, going down on his abdomen.
“Ya ask so nicely, I could give ya the world.” He kissed you, deeply, slowly and sensually, this time wasn’t like all the others despaired and craving for the other, it had more. It was as if this kiss could mean everything, all the years pinning for each other, all the feelings that were hidden, the lonely nights thinking about each other, the inability to be satisfied never having the other…
He aligned himself to your pussy and he pushed inside. You gasped, it had been so long… and you’ve been wanting this for so many years, that none of your fantasies or attempts to reproduce the feeling with your fingers could compare to having him inside you. He slowly bottomed out and started to move once you were comfortable. His hips trusting onto yours rhythmically and yours doing the same unable to contain your moves and the need for the man between your legs.
“Fuck, ya’re so delicious. I should’ve had give in to yer temptation earlier.” He groaned nibbling and sucking on your neck.
“Dar… ya do it so well…” Your arms around him holding on his shoulders. “Hhgmmm…”
A thought crossed his mind for a single second and he didn’t think twice. He rolled both of you so you’d be on top, his hand moved to your hips. “Ride me, I wanna see ya riding me…” you sat on top of him, he still inside of you. You looked at him and… Daryl has always been handsome but fuck… were he gorgeous right at that moment.
You moved your hips, both hands on his stomach, going up and down right on your rhythm, rolling on top of him. “You feel amazing…” You closed your eyes, throwing your head back, your hair down framing your face… in Daryl’s mind he was being fucked by a goddess., you glowed in all your glory. You felt you were close, that so familiar feeling inside of you telling you’d explode at any moment, you quickened your pace searching for your breaking point. You could feel by the way Daryl’s dick was twitching he was close too.
“Y/N… love… I need to pull out I’m…” you interrupted him, going faster by every second.
“I dun mind. I wanna everything with you, everything from you…” If he didn’t mind of course, but you didn’t had the time to say it, hearing your words were the ignition he need to erupt inside of you, filling you with his cum and bringing you to the edge as soon as you felt his warm seed inside of you. “Daryl, fuck…”
Your body collapsed on top of him, your head laying on his chest hearing to his quick heartbeat and heavy breathing, both of you calming down and relaxing on each other’s arms. He rolled you again, so now you were resting on the bed he was on top of you. He looked at you, his hand on your face admiring you.
“I love ya, I always have.” He confessed.
“I love you too.” You said teary eyes, you were so happy you weren’t able to control.
“Shush… dun cry, I’m not pushing you away ever again.” He said thumb caressing your cheek.
“I’m so happy.” You said trying to control your happy tears and failing.
He pulled out of you, your mixed fluids coming out and spreading on the bed. He took a clean humid cloth cleaning you and the bed the better he could. Then he joined you in bed again, holding you, your head on his chest, a blanket over both of you. You talked about nothing and everything, imagining how the future would be and imagining how the kids would react once they knew you were finally together.
In the middle of talking you fell asleep, while Daryl stayed awake a little more thinking on how long he deprived himself from happiness and how lucky he was that you never gave up on him, until he fell asleep. Little did he know that you also thought you were the luckiest woman for having him by your side all those years and finally being able pour your love on each other.
Final notes: Hope you guys enjoy it, it took me some time, but I’m happy with it.
Wanna be add to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)
Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325
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waywardcrow · 5 months
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Gorgeous.
Summary: Bucky is so gorgeous and you need to tell him in a very particular way.
Warnings: English is not my first language so please if I make a mistake tell me, alcohol, drunk rambles, fluff, a tiny bit of angst but not really, Bucky being Bucky, this was very self-indulgent and inspired in that Taylor Swift song we all love, if I forgot something please let me know.
I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted.
“I can’t stop looking at you, it’s infuriating” you needed to stop talking but the alcohol in your veins only fuels more your infatuation with the super soldier who looked at you with a smirk. “And why is that, sweetheart?” he asked like he didn’t knew, the little shit. You scoffed while making yourself comfortable in your seat –his lap- and rolled your eyes. He was so damn handsome, even in the multiple color lights that Tony arranged for the party and the music was so loud that you had to talk very close to him so Bucky could hear you which also didn't help, you could see every freckle, every little beautiful detail. “Barnes, you know why” It was impossible that he didn’t knew you were crazy about him, always daydreaming about his eyes so blue that you could drown in them, his dark hair that looked so soft to the touch, his smirk full of charm, all about him made it very difficult to even meet his eye and you weren’t the only one. Agents, lab assistants, even the damn journalist who interview the team a few days back, all of them fell victims of him. “I swear I have no idea what are you talking about, love.” He started to rub circles in your back, his cold vibranium hand sending shivers at the contact with your skin. The simple navy blue dress you chose for Yelena’s birthday was apparently enough to catch his attention but it wasn’t enough for you, he was in your thoughts since you two met and Bucky didn’t seemed to understand it.
“Because you are gorgeous, you cheeky son of a bitch” that was your answer when his smile got wider, as if he found pleasure in troubling you, the words were starting to blur in your tongue, most likely for the shots you had with Natasha and Maria but the need to tell Bucky everything that was in your heart burned in your tongue just like tequila “you are so fucking handsome that I can barely believe you are real and your laugh makes me feel all tingly and full of joy at the same time” you averted your eyes but his stare burn in your skin to make you know his attention was on you “and you make me feel so at peace that is aggravating.” The rest of the team was distracted which was good, if someone else could listen to you talk right now, they will never let you hear the end of it. “Sweetheart…” “Let me finish Barnes” you interrupted, his amused surprise made you sigh when you saw him bit his lip “see? That´s the shit I’m talking about, no one should look this fine, you should really think about the consequences of doing stuff like that in front of me or any other person, I don’t think your girlfriend approves, if you have a girlfriend in the first place. Bucky’s eyebrows got up, that was interesting.
“My girlfriend, huh?” “Yeah, or your girlfriends or boyfriend, boyfriends, significant one” you started rambling because who were you to assume things about him? His laugh broke your train of thought, leaving you in awe of such spectacle “this is so unfair.” You mumbled tracing with your fingertips the smile lines surrounding his eyes, all the embarrassment and concern about his love life forgotten. “You are one to talk about it, doll” he said helping you find a comfortable position so you could lay your head against his shoulder, starting to doze off after you yawn “are you sleepy?” You nodded and closed your eyes, hugging him as best as you could with your free arm. “I hate how good you smell and how comfy you are, I want to sleep here forever.” Bucky smiled, you fell asleep after that and he got up to take you to your room. “Is your girl ok?” Sam asked him when he walked pass him and Peter in the pool table. “She's just sleepy, I’m going to take her to our bedroom” Both guys said their good nights and Bucky made it to the elevators, your face was so relaxed that he almost felt bad for how much he will tease you about your confession for the next days but that's what you get when forgot you both were already married.
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thecuriousquest · 4 months
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Everything has a Price
Bisexual & Poly Yan!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom
Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, implied kidnapping, isolation punishment, neglect, starvation, conditioning, bisexual & polyamorous TodoBakuDeku, dominant behavior, aggressive behavior, I don’t know how frostbite works
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You realized fairly early on how to piss off your captor’s individually and combined.
If you want to upset Izuku, all you have to do is throw a tantrum. Cry, scream, kick, throw things. But you can’t stop even when he’s trying to calm you down. You have to bite the bullet, fight your declining energy because if you give in then it won’t work. You have to wail and flinch every time he tries to touch you, console you. If you do this long enough, he’ll end up in tears of frustration and sadness because you’re sad and he doesn’t know how to make you feel better.
If you want to piss off Bakugou, all you have to do is seem disinterested in anything he has to say. Every time he kisses you, you have to kiss him back and then look him dead in the eyes and say, “I’ve had better.” If he hugs you with a little squeeze, ask him, “Are you not going to the gym as much anymore? You feel a little weaker now.” Always talk to him with a lack of excitement. It will infuriate him.
Todoroki is a different story. He’s very unique compared to your two very sensitive captors. Not a lot of things piss him off. Throwing tantrums doesn’t work, and acting disinterested in anything he has to say or show you doesn’t help because he will just shrug it off and read a book or something. No, you have to hit him where it hurts the most. You have to do this one out of the blue. You can’t be arguing with him, you can’t be having a conversation with him before you say this. While he’s watching tv, tell him, “You remind me of your father,” and then don’t follow up with an explanation.
It will eat at him. He’ll sit there, wondering what you meant. He’ll try to ask you about it, but you just shrug and go back to whatever it is you were doing. He doesn’t get any sleep that night or for the remaining nights that week. It doesn’t work if you do it too often so space it out.
This is how you individually piss them off, though. Collectively, you have to target one of them when they’re all together. Don’t show favoritism. You have to verbally berate one of them in front of all of them, and it works even better if you attack Bakugou.
Deku loves his Kachan, and Shoto is pretty defensive of his boyfriend. Now all of them are mad, and you’re feeling very smug at having riled them up.
———
However, you never expected things to turn out the way they do when you suddenly find yourself thrown into an empty shed in the dead middle of winter. Bakugou pushes you in with a nasty snarl grazing his lips. He points a stern finger at you as you cower in the corner.
“Alright, bitch, we’ve all had enough of your fucking shitty behavior! You want out? You’re gonna learn to appreciate what we give you in that house, and you won’t step foot inside until you do.”
The ash blonde slams the door shut behind him as he walks out. You hear a bunch of locks click from the outside.
So, here you are in a sweater and jeans, curled up in a corner, trying to fight off the winter air nipping at your goosebump covered flesh. You’re very grateful for your fuzzy socks. You curl your toes, hoping to gather some warmth.
You can see your own breath in the dim lighting of the shed.
The sun slips in and out of the sky over the course of two days. You’re only allowed this view because of a very small window, not one you can crawl through. You could probably only stick your hand outside if you broke it. However, you don’t need anymore problems.
Stomach growling, shivering with the frost bitten air, you bring your knees up to your chest and hide your face in the warmth of your elbow. If you hadn’t made them so angry so often, they wouldn’t have stuffed you in here. Rebuking yourself for your situation is all you can do, and it reduces you to whimpers and sniffles.
The door opens, and you see Katsuki’s boots stomp inside. He throws a bowl of rice at you. Cocking his elbow back, sending it towards your feet, and letting the plastic bowl crash. The grains spill everywhere by your sock-covered toes, but it’s the only warmth you’ve gotten over the last few days.
Before you can even say anything, the door is closing, and you can hear him stomp through the snow on the way back to the house.
Gathering up as much rice as you can, you hold it in your numb fingers, letting the steam soak into the pads of your digits. You only eat it once the food turns cold.
Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya keep you like this for what you feel like is two weeks. You’ve only been able to stave off frostbite due to the warm meal you get once every two days along with the hot bottle of water thrown at you every morning. Bakugou is always the one delivering these things to you because you know if you started crying to the others, they would just bring you back inside. He never says anything to you, tuning out your pleas for mercy.
He walks inside the shed with no water or rice to give you, and you clutch your angry stomach. Katsuki tilts his head at you, analyzing you, trying to determine what’s going through your head.
“There’s a nice breakfast inside waiting for you. All warm and fresh. You want it?”
You nod, keeping your nose hidden in the crook of your elbow.
“Alright then. Beg.”
Sitting on your knees, you beg just like the explosion hero taught you.
“I’m so sorry I was bad, Master. I won’t do it ever again. I’ll be good now. I swear, I’ll be good. Please, can I go inside and eat? Please, please, Master?”
He runs his fingers through your hair, ruffling your scalp slightly. “That’s a good girl. You gonna stop pissing us off?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Come on then.” He picks you up, one arm under your back and the other under your knees. He takes you inside the house, and you feel the dramatic change in temperature instantly.
Shoto walks up to you, moving a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Breakfast is on the table, Snowflake.”
“What do you have to say to IcyHot and the nerd?”
You look down at your hands. “I’m sorry I was so bad. Thank you for letting me come back inside.”
“It’s alright, Bunny! I’m just glad you’re going to be a good girl now.” Izuku kisses you on the head, and you don’t move away from him this time.
Leaning your head on Bakugou’s chest, he takes you into the kitchen before setting you on a chair.
You begin eating, thinking about how everything has a price. Apparently, pissing them off has one as well.
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kingkatsuki · 9 months
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I feel like we always talk about how perfect a boyfriend Bakugou would be, but we never talk about how annoying he really is.
He pulls the worst, grumpiest faces when you’re trying to get a cute selfie with him.
He refuses to take off his hoodie and give it to you when it’s raining, because it’s your fault you should’ve dressed for the weather.
He’s already stabbing a fork into his food when you’re trying to take a photograph of it, or mixing the cream on top of his Starbucks frappe before you can get the perfect aesthetic because “I don’t have time for this dumb shit you’re supposed’ta be eating it.”
He’s a blanket hog. Curls himself up in it until you’re left with the edge (although this may just be a ploy to get you to cuddle up to him as you go to sleep), but then he gets too hot during the night and the covers end up bunched around the foot of the bed so you wake up freezing.
Never wants to give you an answer to questions like “would you still love me if I was a worm?” Because “When the fuck would you ever be a worm?”, “Always askin’ the dumbest shit” even though he eventually appeases you and answers.
He’s terrible at replying to text messages, or sends back blunt replies or one word answers that are infuriating sometimes. Gives the standard thumbs up emoji to a wall of text and it winds you up to no end.
Will fight you for the last dessert/treat in the fridge if it’s his favorite.
Leaves his heavy ass grenades (that he knows you can’t lift) in random places all over the house.
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honeypiehotchner · 1 year
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the open road (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot
Happy 5.5k 🤪🤪 I’ve literally had this idea in my head for a WHILE so I am mf glad to have it out. Enjoy ;))
Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.
Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue
WC: ~2.8k
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It started when you saw how Hotch drives when he’s in a hurry.
Your body flung against the car door despite your hold on the safety handle above you. Infuriated, you went to yell at Hotch to slow the fuck down, until you saw the look on his face, the way his hands gripped the wheel, the way his muscles flexed underneath his dress shirt.
Oh.
Oh, the thoughts you had were beyond inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. You were rushing to catch the unsub, and you were having unholy thoughts about your boss.
You quickly focused your eyes back on the road ahead, chanting cleansing thoughts to calm your mind down from whatever the hell that was.
It worked in the moment, but only just. What truly didn’t help matters was that you somehow always ended up riding shotgun with Hotch, no matter what. Sometimes with Rossi in the backseat, but most times it’s just you two.
Which makes it impossibly hard to hide your staring.
On this particular day, you and Hotch went to a prison about an hour away to interview a serial killer on death row. This sort of thing is routine, but you’ve never tagged along for them. It’s usually Reid or Prentiss, but for some reason, Hotch decided to take you.
It was a boring day, to say the least. Traffic getting there was awful. The checks to get into the prison and then to the specific area took forever. To make matters worse, the killer didn’t really want to talk. He wanted to play games.
Needless to say, you feel like it was a waste of time. But you can’t say that to your boss.
Instead, on the ride back to Quantico, you say, “That was enlightening.”
Hotch scoffs, then laughs. “It was a nightmare.”
“Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say that.”
“It’s alright, you can say it.”
“Fine, it was boring as hell and a complete nightmare,” you blurt, glad to have gotten it off your chest.
Hotch laughs loudly this time. “You were holding that in.”
“Maybe,” you shrug, grinning. “Definitely.”
Hotch goes to reply, but stops himself when he has to slam on brakes. A sea of red taillights are ahead.
“That looks like a nightmare,” you groan, pulling up your GPS. “Two and a half hours to get home?”
“There must’ve been a wreck,” Hotch comments, angling his head to get a better look and that looks hotter than hell.
“We should probably get off at this exit,” you say. Thankfully, you’re in the far right lane, so exiting won’t be hard.
“Good plan,” he says, putting on the signal to get over to the ramp. “Can you navigate back to the BAU?”
“Sure,” you say. “Take a left up here.”
At first, the traffic is just as bad with everyone getting off at the same ramp to avoid the interstate, but soon it calms down.
You rant about the interview while navigating, not even realizing Hotch is replying to you until he compliments you.
“What?” you blink.
“I said you did good today,” he repeats. “You held yourself well. You should do more of these with me.”
“With you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t advise doing them alone.”
“Why not?”
“It’s better done in pairs,” he says, and that’s all he’ll elaborate.
So, you decide to tease him. “Sounds like you just want an excuse to spend more time with me.”
“I don’t need to make excuses to do that,” he replies smoothly, catching you off guard.
“Oh?”
“I chose you today on purpose,” he says. “Not as an excuse.”
“Oh,” you say, not sure what to make of that. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says. And the drive is silent after that.
+++
Now, you look forward to riding shotgun with Hotch.
Maybe you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think those wildly inappropriate thoughts. And the more tame ones, which you’re able to voice, because he’s taken a liking to complimenting you, too.
“New haircut?” he says when you knock on his office door. He had barely glanced up at you from where he’s sitting, but one second was all he needed to see the difference.
“First one to notice,” you smile, stepping into his office.
“I just pay a lot of attention to you.” That’s enough to make you swoon, but he continues. “It looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” you reply. You study him for a moment. “New tie?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, lifting the piece of fabric. “A birthday gift this morning from Dave.”
Your eyes widen. “Is today your birthday?”
Sheepishly, he nods.
“Aaron!” you scold, blowing right past the fact that you used his first name. “Why didn’t you say?”
“It’s not a big deal, and serial killers don’t care about birthdays,” he says, grabbing his briefcase. He stands and buttons his jacket. “Are you ready?”
“I guess,” you mutter. “I’m mad that you scheduled this for your birthday.”
“Not for my birthday, it just happens to be on my birthday.”
“Same difference.”
“Alright, let’s go,” he gestures for you to go out the door. “Before we’re late.”
“We won’t be late,” you scoff.
“You just have to have the last word today, don’t you?”
You pause. Well. Those thoughts are definitely inappropriate, and you’re glad you stopped yourself from saying something you shouldn’t have. Especially with the rest of the team staring up at you and Hotch from their desks down in the bullpen.
They’ve been listening to your bickering for the past few minutes. They knew it was his birthday (courtesy of Reid), but they also know he isn’t a fan of huge celebrations.
Still, you’re upset about this, and Hotch has no idea why.
You bid the team goodbye as you and Hotch head out to the garage to pick up a BAU vehicle to take to the prison.
The drive there is smooth on the interstate. The interview is slightly less of a bore than the last few, but also not enlightening. Everything the killer said, you already knew.
Hotch decides not to take the interstate back to Quantico.
“It’ll only add half an hour,” he says. “I’m tired of seeing only interstate signs.”
“Suit yourself,” you say. Normally he can’t wait to get back to work.
You use this as the perfect time to corner him about his birthday, sure that he’ll regret his decision and get back on the interstate.
“How are you celebrating?” you ask.
“I’m not,” he shrugs.
“Why not?”
“Well, for starters, we have work tomorrow.”
“And?”
“I don’t want to be out late.”
“One drink won’t be late.”
“I’m old.”
You snort. “You’re not that old.”
“I’m 44.”
“Not old, I’d still go--” you stop yourself abruptly.
“You’d what?”
“Nothing,” you laugh. Shit shit shit. “You’re not old.”
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing!” you cry, laughing awkwardly.
“Y/N.”
“Nothing, Aaron.”
“You can tell me.”
You shake your head. “I definitely cannot.”
“Y/N.”
“Aaron.”
You stare at him and he stares back at you, intermittently looking away to watch the road, but it’s wide open. No one is around. And he’s better at staring than you are.
“Fine,” you grumble. “I’d still…I’d still go for you.”
“Go for me?”
“Yes, like, have sex with you— with a 44 year old because 44 isn’t that old— Please watch the road and stop looking at me.”
He grins, but he looks back at the road. One car passes. You’re mortified. You want to jump out of the window and roll into the ditch and stay there.
“Will you say something?” you blurt.
He laughs, and that makes you grimace. This is not how you pictured this conversation happening.
“Thank you. I think,” he says.
“You’re welcome,” you huff. “Even though I shouldn’t have said anything. That was inappropriate.”
“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he replies, and his hand does what it has done this entire trip -- and drives in the past. He gestures into your space on the passenger side, each time nearly connecting with your arm. This time, his fingers graze your skin.
“Okay…” you hesitate for a moment, keeping your arm on the console, not inching away from his touch.
He doesn’t move his hand, either, and it’s strange. His knuckles brush down your arm, over your wrist and to your fingers where he rests his hand over yours. You can feel his own hesitation, wondering how many lines this is crossing and how many rules are being broken.
“So, if I-- if someone my age,” he corrects himself, “asked you on a date, you would go for it?”
“Absolutely,” you reply a little too quickly.
“It seems like you’ve thought about this.”
“I have,” you admit.
“Good to know,” he says, smirking. And that’s the end of it.
+++
It’s a slow progression, your relationship with Hotch. The many car rides together on the open road provide for perfect moments. Here, with no one around, the two of you can be affectionate without worry.
He holds your hand while he drives, occasionally bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. You play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles, the lines on his palm.
Sometimes, when he’s feeling bold, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh. The first time it happened, arousal paralyzed you. Now, it makes you want to climb in his lap.
He has to know what he’s doing.
He squeezes your thigh and you’re done for, squirming in your seat like it’s uncomfortable.
“What is wrong with you?” he asks.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” you mutter.
“What?”
“You have your hand on my thigh and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”
“Do you want me to move?”
“No, you-- Let me just--” You move his hand, only so you can give him a taste of his own medicine. You place your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and his jaw tenses immediately. “See?”
“I see.”
You squeeze your hand, digging your fingertips in, and you see him swallow hard. “Want me to move my hand?” you ask playfully. You begin to take your hand away and he grabs your wrist, keeping your hand right where it is.
Oh?
He says nothing about it, so neither do you. The drive continues in silence, only the radio playing lowly.
After a while, you notice that not a single car has passed by. The two of you seem to be alone again on this road.
Your skin is burning with the anticipation of what you want to do. Your fingers twitch against his leg, wanting to move further up his thigh, but resisting.
He’ll tell you to stop. If it’s too much. You should just go for it.
So you do.
In a moment of reckless boldness, you stare straight ahead at the road and slowly creep your hand up his thigh.
You hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t stop you.
You trace slow circles on the fabric of his pants, each time inching closer and closer to where you want to be. His belt will be in the way, though. That’ll have to go first.
“You should tell me to stop,” you murmur, letting your fingers travel to his belt. You begin to tug on it, getting his attention. “Aaron?”
“Keep going,” he says, through a tight jaw. He glances over at you but then back at the road. His left hand tightens on the wheel.
He wore the belt that snaps, so you’re able to open it swiftly. Unbuttoning his pants, you tug the zipper down. He’s already hard, but not fully just yet. His restraint is unbelievable to you, but you know his body well enough now to get around it.
He adjusts his hips to give you better access, but accidentally revs the car when he does.
“Relax,” you chuckle. “You can’t run us off the road.”
“I won’t,” he says firmly.
You hum as you tease him some more, lightly touching him, smirking as he grows. Easy.
He’s uncomfortable, reaching down to move his underwear. If you weren’t so pleased with yourself, you would’ve swatted his hand away. But instead you let him do it, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around him.
“Your hands are always so cold,” he laughs, his voice deeper now.
“You’re always so warm,” you retort, stroking him gently. “Is there anyone around?”
He looks in the rearview and then shakes his head. “No.”
“Good,” you smirk, unbuckling your seatbelt. You lean over the console, glad that this model has such a flat design.
“Shit,” he cusses, realizing what you plan to do. He should’ve known better than to assume otherwise, honestly.
You take him into your mouth with a low hum, loving the way the muscles in his legs tense immediately. Only the tip rests on your tongue, yet you feel his heart rate beginning to pick up.
He talks a big game, acting nonchalant and cool, until your mouth is on him. He’s said before that he loses it all with you. There is no holding back.
Taking him deeper, you feel him hit the back of your throat sooner than expected, causing you to gag. This angle is different, and his hand reaches for your shoulder, a gentle touch, asking if you’re alright.
You suck him down again, better prepared now, and his hand tenses, lifting off your skin to not leave bruises, even though you’d like him to (but you haven’t told him that just yet).
To compromise, you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, looking up at him. He glances down in surprise, meets your eyes, and groans, letting out the sound he’s been holding inside.
His hand pushes on your head, the pressure igniting something inside of you. You adjust to get a better angle, pulling back to swirl your tongue over his head.
The car speeds up again, but he catches himself, not wanting you to stop. His hand remains at the back of your head, keeping you in place, as if you’d go anywhere anyway.
“I’m gonna have to pull over,” he mutters, barely getting the words out.
You shake your head and he groans loudly. Lifting up, you look at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”
His head hits the headrest and he sighs, chuckling deliriously. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“You say that every time,” you tease.
He continues driving, determined now to not pull over. The thrill goes away if he isn’t driving.
Continuing as you were, you chase his release, desperate to hear him. You take him into your mouth fully again, swallowing with a contented hum.
You feel it when he begins to unravel, the way he twitches in your mouth, the way his abdomen tenses. He keeps your head pinned down, only lightly, but enough for you.
His climax is unexpected even for him, spilling down your throat without much more than a few seconds warning. He lifts his foot from the gas, willing his eyes to stay open enough to see the road.
You swallow it all, coaxing more from him, relishing in his little noises. If it weren’t for the console finally digging in a little too hard to your ribcage, you would stay.
You lift your head with a satisfied smile, squeaking in surprise when his hand on the back of your head pulls you into him for a kiss.
“The road!” you mumble through kisses, keeping an eye on it, even though it’s still empty.
“Fuck the fucking road,” he mutters, swerving to pull off to the side. He puts the car in park and pulls you back in.
“Aaron!” you laugh, letting him haul you into his lap.
“I can’t drive and do this,” he says, putting both hands on your face and smothering you in a kiss.
He grows harder underneath you, especially now that you’re sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against him.
“Thank god these windows are tinted,” you chuckle as he practically rips your pants off of your legs. You hear a seam rip and you give him a tired look. “Seriously?”
“I’ll buy you more,” he says, finishing the job and ripping them entirely. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Whore,” you snicker, but it’s broken off when he enters you in one swift movement.
“You were saying?” he whispers, smirking against your cheek. You can’t answer and he starts to grin, nipping at your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”
+++
When the two of you return to Quantico two hours late, the team starts to wonder what is really going on.
Each time, your excuse is traffic, stopping to get food, gas, or all of the above. But this time, there is no hiding the obvious.
Meaning, the way Hotch has to come into the office to grab your go bag from your desk so you’ll have a pair of fucking pants to wear into the building.
5K notes · View notes
wzrd-wheezes · 10 months
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Riled up. remus lupin x reader
I got it, Remus and reader fighting because she’s complaining about something and he’s in a mood because the full moon is soon and he’s all riled up about it, end it with either smut or fluff I don’t mind either ;)
AN - no this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written so I hope this is okay and not too filthy jsjjfjs. If there's one thing about me.. if ur gonna give me the option to end it with fluff or smut - im gonna end it with smut every time.
1.5k
Warnings: kinda toxic!remus like hes just a bit of a prick in this, n this is not a good example of a good relationship. a whole load of sex, daddy kink, choking, smoking and the like. as always minors dni and wrap it before you tap it. Enjoy!
“Remus, you know I hate it when you smoke like that.” Y/N said, looking over to her boyfriend that was chain smoking cigarettes on the balcony of their apartment. 
“And I hate it when you nag at me about it, love.” he replied, tapping ash into the ashtray next to him, “yet, you continue to do it.” 
“I’m just worried about you. There’s no need to jump down my throat about it.” she scowled, turning around and taking a large sip from her coffee. 
“God forbid I want to do something that calms me down when the full moon is soon,” he stubbed his cigarette out harshly, as if to make a point, the glass ashtray rattling against the table with the sheer force of it.  
“Oh, grow up, Remus,” Y/N spat, the grip on her mug tightening as she spoke, “You act like you’re still a fucking teenager sometimes.” She walked over to the kitchen and slammed her mug down on the counter. She hated it when he got like this. The days leading up to the full moon made Remus impossible. He was constantly tired and grumpy. He didn’t have a great temper at the best of times but the full moon only heightened it. It also didn’t help that Remus not sleeping meant that Y/N hadn’t been sleeping, resulting in them both being extremely irritable.  
She heard his footsteps approaching the kitchen and swiftly made an exit, shutting herself in their bedroom.  
“You can’t avoid me all day, darling.” he called out. Even though she couldn’t see him, she just knew that he had that cocky grin on his face. The one that made her feel weak at the knees. The same grin that Remus knew could get him out of anything. They could be arguing and he would flash her that smile and it was as if she couldn’t be mad at him anymore. It infuriated her that he knew exactly how to get her. Y/N sighed, knowing that he was right and opened the door. 
Remus was stood on the other side, leaning against the doorframe, cigarette hanging from his mouth.  
“See? I knew it wouldn’t take you long to come around,” he grinned.  
“It’s like you’re purposefully trying to wind me up today. I fucking hate it when you smoke inside,” she sneered, “and you can wipe that fucking grin off your face as well.”  
“Aw, don’t be like that, baby.” he smirked, leaning back against the wall and taking a drag of his cigarette. “You’re getting all upset over nothin-.”  
He didn’t even have chance to finish his sentence before Y/N had stormed off. She made it all of five steps before Remus swiftly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. 
“Don’t fucking walk away from me when I’m talking to you.” 
“Talking?” she let out a laugh, “You’re such a condescending prick sometimes, you know that?”  
“And you’re a whiny, little, brat sometimes.” he barked, his voice significantly louder now. 
“Fuck you.” 
As fast as lightning Remus had flipped them round so that Y/N’s back was pressed against the wall. Remus had one had above her head, bracing himself on the wall as he towered over her. The grin that was plastered on his face had disappeared. His jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed into a line.  
“You need to watch your fucking mouth before I have to do something about it,” he said roughly, his fingers tangling in her hair.  
“Oh, really?” she retorted, “what are you gonna do about it?” 
 Just as quickly as he did before, he flipped them back around and roughly shoved her down on to her knees. Y/N let out a gasp as her knees hit the floor and she looked up at her boyfriend. 
“What? Cat got your tongue?” Remus goaded, the infamous smirk back on his face. 
“Not at all,” Y/N smirked back at him, reaching up to unzip his jeans. Remus smiled down at her as he leaned against the wall. Y/N took his dick out and eagerly put it in her mouth. 
“Atta girl,” Remus grumbled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it, “Look so pretty down there with my cock in your mouth.”  
He took a drag of his cigarette while she sucked him off, lazily grabbing a handful of her hair to keep her in place. Letting out a groan, he leaned his head back against the wall, cigarette hanging from his lips as her began fucking her mouth. 
“That’s it, baby. Can’t whine with my cock in your mouth, can you?” he chuckled darkly, “Jus’ what little brats like you need, isn’t it?” 
Y/N looked up at him, tears streaming from her eyes. Remus pulled himself out of her mouth. Her lips were swollen and drool was running down her chin. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Remus whined, “Gonna be a good girl and let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, yeah?” 
“Remus, pleas-” 
“S’not my name, baby.” 
“Please, daddy.” she whined 
He smiled down at her smugly and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. He threw her roughly on the bed, and she scrambled to remove her clothes, throwing them in a heap on the floor. Remus followed suit, his belt dropping to the floor with a clatter as he threw his jeans down. Y/N was spread out on the bed, looking at him needily as he stood over her. Remus dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, grabbing her ankles and dragging her down the bed roughly so that her core was level with his face.  
“Dripping already, baby?” he mused, “Haven’t even touched you yet. If I knew you’d get this turned on just from sucking my cock, I’d have you do it more often.” 
“Can you stop being a cocky little shit and just fuck me already,” Y/N moaned. 
Remus looked at her, grin instantly disappearing from his face.  
“You just don’t learn, do you?” he snapped, “always have to be such a brat.” 
Pulling her underwear to the side, he plunged two fingers inside of her, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. If there was one thing about Remus, it was that he knew exactly what to do to get his girlfriend going. He knew exactly how to make her tick and he prided himself on the fact that he could bring her to the edge in a matter of minutes. He licked at her clit as he pumped his fingers inside of her, smirking against her as he listened to her moans. 
“Please, daddy, I’m close, I’m-” 
He withdrew his fingers abruptly, wiping them on her thigh. Y/N let out a loud gasp. 
“You fucking dick.” she groaned. 
“Watch your fucking mouth. I won’t tell you again.”  
“I just need yo-”  
He cut her off, quickly removing her panties and shoving them in her mouth. Y/N whined in protest, her eyes widening in shock. 
“I won’t tell you again. You better keep those in that pretty mouth until I tell you to take them out, understand?” she nodded in response.  
“Good girl.” 
Remus positioned himself between her legs, looking down at her as he lined himself up. With one fluid motion he was inside her, letting out a deep groan as he felt her clench around him.  
“Feel so fucking good baby. Take my cock so well.”  
He wasted no time and began fucking into her roughly. His hips snapping against her at a quickening pace. Y/N’s moaned were like a drug to him and he couldn’t get enough. He thought that she sounded so pretty when she was whimpering underneath him, the panties in her mouth feebly trying to stifle her moans. She reached up to wrap her arms around him, legs trembling as she chased her high. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand. He smirked as she clenched around him, her moans getting louder and louder. 
“You close, baby?” he asked, looking down at the girl laying beneath him. Y/N nodded frantically and moaned through the makeshift gag. He thrust into her roughly a few more times before pulling out of her again. “Didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?”  
He reached down pulling the panties from her mouth and tossing them on the floor. He manoeuvred her roughly so that she was on her knees with her face pressed against the mattress. Once again, he entered her, grabbing handfuls of her arse as he fucked her. He smacked his hand against the flesh sharply, earning a loud moan from Y/N, and leaving a large hand print on her skin. Remus’ thrusts became more sloppy as he reached his own climax, reaching round to pull Y/N up so her back was flush against his chest.  
“Want you to look at me when you cum, baby. Gonna come on my cock, yeah?” he said gruffly. 
“Y-yes, daddy.” she let out a strained moan, “so close.”  
Her eyes all but glazed over as she reached her peak, seeing stars as she clenched around him. Remus wrapped a hand around her throat, holding her in place as he fucked into her. Letting a strangled moan, came inside her, her body going limp against him. 
“Fuck.” she gasped. 
“You okay?” he asked, collapsing on the bed and pulling her towards him. 
“More than okay.” she smiled, her eyes fluttering shut as she snuggled into him. 
785 notes · View notes
bitchinbarzal · 8 months
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What you left behind | A Fantilli
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based on this ask
-
You’d heard them talking about you at the Hobey award ceremony.
“I feel bad acting like everything’s ok! Y/N has no idea”
“Adam should’ve told her before she flew all the way out here”
“I can’t believe he’s breaking up with her”
Your heart dropped and you walked away before you heard anymore. You sat throughout the whole ceremony with a wary smile.
By the end of it you had excused yourself on account of not feeling well. You were so ill and knew fine well why but now this was making you feel worse.
When Adam did return to your hotel room that night, bustling around while you faced the wall in the darkness you were deciding if you wanted to address the situation or not.
It wasn’t until he got into bed that you spoke
“I know you want to break up with me”
Adam sighed and turned on the bedside light “Babe it’s not you-“
“Do not say it’s not you, it’s me! God, Adam I thought we were better than this!”
“I don’t want to hold you down while I’m away!”
You were now stood up from the bed “You want to go to Columbus! It’s like four hours from Ann Arbor!”
He groans “I could end up literally anywhere and I don’t, I don’t want to drag this relationship with me while I’m starting off in the NHL!”
You gasp lowly “You think this relationship is a drag? Adam there’s something-“
You were crying now, getting yourself upset thinking about how your entire world was crumbling around you.
“Listen let’s just call it ok? You’re clearly getting upset and-“
You laugh ironically “I am getting upset because my boyfriend is breaking up with me and I’m trying to tell him I’m p-“
“I get it, you’re pissed but I think this is for the best I’m going to stay in Luca’s room for the night” Adam finishes, almost infuriating you as he picks up his hoodie and phone before kissing your forehead and leaving the room.
When the door clicked shut you sat down on the bed and let out a shaky breath and placed your hand over your belly “It’s just me and you kid, eh?”
You were packed up and gone before Adam got back to the room the next morning, leaving him feeling somewhat disappointed.
He had tried to call but you’d blocked his number. Eventually he gave in and stop trying to contact you to apologize for how it all went down.
You on the other hand were too busy in the summer break preparing for the baby’s arrival in november.
It felt weird being home all summer. Typically you’d be spending your time split between vacations, lake houses and this year was supposed to be spent by Adam’s side as he was drafted.
Now you were knee deep in baby sleep suits, stuffed animals and diapers all needing to be organized into boxes.
The summer was hard, you’d been contemplating not going back to college now you would ultimately be single parenting and how difficult that was going to be.
It had taken a lot of thinking but you knew you couldn’t give up on school, not now you were all your daughter had.
The new school year looked a lot different. You’d moved out of dorms with your best friend and into your own apartment, you’d dropped out of your position as social admin of the hockey and lacrosse teams and even changed some of your classes to better align with better paid positions post graduate.
It only took the boys a day to notice your absence from the team.
“Where’s y/n? There’s no way she left us because Adam broke up with her!” Dylan whined as the team got changed after their first practice.
Luca just shrugged “I haven’t seen her, I don’t even know if she’s back this year”
“She wasn’t in our sports management class this morning” Mark adds “And her best friend has a new roommate”
Luca then became a little concerned. He’d gone from seeing you all day, everyday to not even knowing where you were.
That was until that evening at Tony’s, the pizza place you, Adam and Luca would go every Tuesday. It seemed as though you guys were keeping to the tradition as you both stood in line to order your pizza.
“Y/N?” You froze hearing his voice, slowly turning around with a coy smile
“Hey Luca” You reply sweetly, not missing how his eyes were now glued on your now seven month pregnant belly.
“Hey so-“
“You’re pregnant?”
You tut “Yeah it looks like it” you joke “so don’t judge when I tank a whole pizza alone I’m technically eating for two”
He softly laughs before he asks “Is it Adam’s?”
You can’t hide it and you know it so you nod “Yeah, it is”
You expect Luca to yell at you but he doesn’t. Instead he grumbles “and you didn’t tell him?!”
His anger takes you back a little and you sigh sadly “I tried Luca”
“Not very hard!”
The tears started the gather in your eyes as you thought back to that night you and Adam broke up and you tried to tell him about your little baby girl.
“Luca You don’t know anything ok? I tried to tell him but he was too busy breaking up with me! You know what Lu, pretend this interaction never happened!” You scoffed, taking off out of the restaurant.
Only five minutes after you got in your apartment the doorbell rang and you waddled to the front door, very unamused and hungry.
On the other side of the door stood Luca holding your order from Tony’s.
“I’ve got pizza?” He smiled and you gestured him in.
The two of you ate the pizza and garlic knots in silence until Luca asked
“Is It a boy or girl?”
You wiped your hands with a napkin before you said “A little girl”
He smiles “and you’re due?”
“November, middle of November”
He nods before he reaches across the table to squeeze your hand “I’m really sorry you’ve done this alone, but I’m sure Adam would want to know he has a daughter”
You retracted your hand from his and scoffed “He didn’t want to be ‘held down’ Luca! His words! So no, I’m not telling him because when I tried, he shut me down so this is his loss!”
Luca wanted to fight you, to stick up for his little brother but he knew better so he gave in. He knew which battle he wanted to pick
“Can I… can I be in her life? She is my niece after all I want to be in her life”
You softened “Of course you can Luca, you can be as involved with her as you want as long as you don’t tell your brother”
Luca reluctantly agrees and so he begins a part in this secret.
Over the following weeks he spent nights over at your house, helped you set up the nursery and was helping you study in your new classes.
He’d slowly stopped speaking to Adam as the secret was getting harder to keep and Adam had noticed.
When Luca didn’t go to Columbus with the rest of his family for Adam’s birthday, Adam knew something was wrong.
So when I’m November the blue jackets played Detroit, Adam, Nick and Kent took the trip to Ann Arbor to watch their old team play.
You wouldn’t have gone to the game that night had you known he would be there but it was too late. You saw him in the crowd. You’d been sitting in a seat, wearing Luca’s jersey so nobody else on the team could see your bump when you spotted Kent closely followed by Adam.
After that you made a mad dash out of Yost, but not before Adam saw you.
He watched you leave, watched you walk out and never said a thing. He had conflicted feelings about seeing you again. He knew it was a possibility but he didn’t know for sure not after his friends told him you’d basically distanced yourself so far from the team, what caught his eye though was his brothers name and number on the back of your jersey.
After the game Adam found his brother outside the locker room
Luca looked surprised to see him, looking around cautiously for someone else by the looks of it “Adam, what’re you doing here?”
“Dropping by to see the team, what’s wrong? You seem on edge? Looking for someone?” Adam wasn’t sly with his questions.
“No I just-“
“Not my ex girlfriend? Not Y/N? Who left by the way”
Luca looked panicked “you saw her?!”
“Yeah i saw her leaving, wearing your jersey! Dude are you fucking y/n? How could-“
Luca scoffs “I’m not fucking her!”
“Well what’s going on? You haven’t come to visit, we hardly talk, she’s walking around here in your jersey and you seem really agitated about her right now so cmon dude spill it! I’d rather you just told me straight but I’m gonna be mad you know I’m still in love with her!!”
Before Luca can even defend himself and you, his phone starts ringing. It’s you.
As soon as he picks up the phone he can hear you crying “what’s going on? Talk me y/n”
That peaks Adam’s interest.
“I fell Luca! I fell and I need to go to the hospital I’m bleeding-“
“I’m coming, I’m coming just hang in there you guys are gonna be ok is the ambulance there? Ok just go and I’ll meet you at the hospital”
Adam is traipsing behind him still demanding answers when Luca shouts “Just get in the car Adam! I don’t have time to deal with you right now”
Adam can feel Luca’s stress and it’s confusing him, a lot.
When they arrive at the hospital he finally asks “Why are we here? What is going on? Who’s hurt?”
Luca sighs, pinching his nose and just praying you’ll understand why he did it
“Y/N is pregnant” he states as if it was the simplest thing while Adam’s entire world just exploded.
He was still in love with you and you were having a baby.
“Is It yours?” Adam asked “Because if it is I’m gonna let you call mom before I fucking kill-“
Luca holds his hand up to his little brother “The baby is yours”
Adam is going through every emotion possible at the moment, stuttering out “Why didn’t you tell me? She didn’t-“
“She tried Adam, the day you broke up with her”
He feels horrible, he feels heartbroken.
“And Why are we at the hospital? Do we need to go in? Is she ok?”
“She said there’s been bleeding, that she fell after the game. That could be bad Adam so just don’t go in there guns blazing when she could have lost her baby”
Adam’s heart breaks even further for his baby; who’s existence he’s only known of for a minute who might now be dead.
The brothers make their way up to the ward and ask for you to which the nurse smiles sympathetically “It’s family only, sorry boys”
Luca hurries “He’s the babies dad, she’s pregnant-“
“Actually, miss y/l/n had a turn in the ambulance after she was picked up by paramedics and she is no longer pregnant” Adam and Luca both gasped lowly, heartbroken when the nurse continued “She delivered her babygirl in the ambulance on route here. Congratulations dad, head on down its room 103”
The two shared glances before Luca patted his little brother on the back “You’re a dad, man!”
“I’m a dad…” he repeats, almost in disbelief.
When Adam got to your room and walked in you were laying in the hospital bed holding your little girl in your arms mumbling something to her. When you looked up and saw Adam the smile on your face dropped
“What’re you-“
“Is she ok? Are you ok?” He interrupted, walking over to you both.
You looked surprised “Luca told you?”
He nods “the cliff notes, we were in a rush”
You nodded understandingly “She’s perfect, all eight pounds of perfection”
You watch Adam step closer and closer to you both when you say “Adam, do you want to hold her?”
He nods, sitting down in the chair next to your bed and taking her into his arms. You watch them as Adam whispers sweet words to her.
“Hi babygirl, I’m your daddy”
When he finally puts her in her bassinet, Adam turns to you “I’m so sorry you went through this all alone, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you that night and I’m sorry I just abandoned us… I regret it everyday”
You smile softly “Do you miss me?” It was a lighthearted jab but Adam grabs your hands, seriously and says “So much, everyday I’ve thought about what an idiot I was to let you go. The love of my life”
“Adam you really broke my heart, I’m not sure how I would’ve survived if it wasn’t for her” you say gesturing to the baby asleep next to you.
He squeezes your hands “I know and I can only apologise and beg you to understand I acted on stupid judgement. We could always make long distance work and you have never held me down ever, you make me a better person y/n, I guess now you both do”
Eventually around eleven your nurse manages to sneak Luca into your room. He fully expected you two at each others throats when he entered but instead he found you both sitting on your bed holding your daughter in your hands just adoring her.
“Hey guys, she’s beautiful y/n congratulations”
You smile “thanks uncle Lu”
“So what’s princess called?”
Adam looks at you to tell him and you take pleasure when you say “This is Lucia, her name is inspired by our role model. Both of us”
Luca crouches down by Lucia’s sleeping body and brushes his thumb over her cheek “Hi Lu, I’m your uncle Luca. I love You so much already and I don’t even know you yet”
Your head absentmindedly rested on Adams’s shoulder and he kissed the crown of your head and mumbled “My girls, my whole world”
551 notes · View notes
akoyaxs · 5 months
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˚༄ Tìyora Pt 5 - Final ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: shit is filthy, rut, oral (m and f recieving), 69, rough sex, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff at the end because we got to finish it off nice :) ~ I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for all the support throughout this smutty slutty little story, I swear it's so unserious at times and I have a good little giggle writing it, but I couldn't do it without all my pookie pies and this one is for all of you Aonung sluts cause this man is so fine 😻 OKAY ENJOY!!! - Zenna
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“He’s a complete skxawng,” you growl, stabbing the knife you’re meant to be sharpening harshly into the sand.
“Right,” Tsireya says consolingly, though you suspect if you raise your gaze, you’ll find her rolling her eyes. The two of you are sitting on the beach, doing your various tasks, though it seems more like you're ranting and less like you're actually doing anything.
“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you scowl. “He hasn’t been at training, or anywhere around the village or the bay or even the rest of the reef. And he’s not even hiding in your marui.”
“And how would you know that?” Tsireya asks, a small smile curling her pretty lips.
“Because I checked,” you say bluntly. “Several times. Because I’m bothered that my supposed warrior commander is neglecting his duties. That is all.” Tsireya doesn’t say anything, just pursing her lips and nodding seriously, and your frown deepens. “I’m serious. What sort of leader is he going to be if he’s just sulking around and hiding from-”
“And what would he be sulking about?” your friend counters. “I haven’t seen my brother in a couple days, even after he’s been avoiding you or whatever, if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell me what happened.”
At that, you pause.
You aren’t even entirely sure what happened. The last time you saw Aonung, which had been over a week ago, he’d caught you with Ta’ru behind the rocks. You had played a little game which ended up with you on your knees, getting the shit rocked and breath knocked flat out of you as he fucked you like he hated you (which, of course, he probably still did).
You had probably just imagined that he’d become less haughty towards you, that he’d been sweet and gentle sometimes instead of his usual taunts and condescending idiocy towards you. But apparently not, because now he’s even worse. You can tolerate fights and comments, Eywa knows you’ve battled off enough of them, but getting cut out and ignored just stings so much more.
No. You don’t care.
It’s not that deep. Why should you care that the most infuriating person you ever met is treating you with the same hatred you’re meant to feel for him.
You shouldn’t care.
But you do, for some inexplicable reason, and as always, your upset comes in the form of anger.
“Hello?” Tsireya snaps you back into reality. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about whatever weird thing is going on between you and my brother, but maybe stop trying to murder the beach?”
“What?” You look down to realise you’d been violently stabbing the sand with your knife, shells shattered at the bottom of the jagged grooves you left behind, loose sand scattered all over you from your unconscious stabbing. “Oh, sorry.” Tsireya grins, and then the rest of her words process in your mind and you straighten up to glare at her. “There’s nothing 'going on' between me and Aonung. He’d be the last per-”
“Oh really?” your friend scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not blind. I’ve never seen Aonung like this before.”
“Like what?” you scowl, but a guilty tone of your curiosity shines through your voice as you study her. But Tsireya just laughs and shakes her head, as though she can’t believe you right now. “Fine,” you snap. “Don’t tell me then. I’ll go find him myself.”
“That’s probably not a great idea,” Tsireya says, scrunching her nose up. “If Aonung doesn’t want to be bothered, everyone knows best than to try and disturb him.”
“Well he can suck it up because I don’t care if he’s some stupid silly prince or some bullshit,” you shrug. “I care that he’s ignoring me, because no one ignores me and gets away with it.”
Tsireya just grins as you stalk away, and you swear you hear her muttering smug, giggly nonsense to herself as she watches your furious, purposeful storming.
You end up in the forest behind the village. You’re not entirely sure why; maybe you’re just too worked up and you need something the least bit similar to home, or maybe you just think better when surrounded by trees instead of sand and sea. Either way, the second your feet hit soft, damp grass and the sunlight is barred by lush shady canopy, your annoyance doesn’t quite dissipate, but at least your body seems to relax in the mere presence of the forest.
You’re just wandering, enjoying the sounds of the birds and allowing the damp, cool scents to roll over you like home, albeit more tropical and sweet than rainforest. Or at least, you think it’s only the sounds of the rainforest wafting through the damp air, until you hear it. Deep, pained, laborious groans. Like someone’s hurting, aching, and there’s nothing they can do about it.
You pause. You could run back and get help, but the groans sound oddly familiar, and you find yourself instantly following them. Through the bushes and trees and shrubs, past thickets of bright flowers and sharp thorns and random animals. They’re growing louder, hungrier, the closer you draw to the source of the sound until you burst into a small clearing, a small woven marui stretched over in a shelter in the centre, blocking the groans from view.
You stalk closer, silently, though you can imagine they could never hear you over their own groans and grunts. Then you’re peeking through the gaps of the weavings and stepping into the hut.
Aonung’s slumped against one side, curled up slightly so you can’t see him properly, and he’s hidden in the shadows anyway. His face looks flushed and frustrated, and there’s a certain darkness around him that has your tail pricking up unconsciously. But when he looks up, when he sees you, his eyes darken further.
“What are you doing here?” he croaks, gritting his teeth, sounding furious.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap, crossing your arms in the entrance. “It’s been a week Aonung, where the fuck have you been? Cowering in this little hut doing Eywa knows what?”
Aonung just continues to stare, eyes growing darker and hungrier with every second they rove over your body, and you feel them lingering particularly on the curves and hidden places he knows only too well now.
“You need to leave.”
“What?” you ask, taken aback by the audacity of Aonung. “No.”
“Leave now,” Aonung growls, his voice deep and desperate and dangerous, and you feel a sharp jolt somewhere deep within you, as though your body is recognising something the rest of you cannot.
“What did I tell you about you and your orders?” you say stiffly, glaring at his slumped figure. “I don’t give two flying fucks who you are, you cant-”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roars, eyes narrowing to pale slits, face contorted with desperate frustration.
“NO!” you shout back with equal ferocity, standing your ground and taking a stubborn step into the marui.
And then it hits you. The scent, the energy, the strangeness of his behaviour and his absence from the village, not just you. It should have been obvious already; the lustful darkness in those usually bright eyes, the heat with which he snarls his words, the sheer frustration surrounding him that was no doubt sharpened by days with only his own company.
“You’re in rut,” you whisper, tilting your head down at him.
Aonung doesn’t reply, just breathing heavily. For a moment you think he’s trying to compose himself to speak, but then you realise that his eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping himself back with fierce desperation for a reason.
It’s starting to piece together in your mind, but not at all. It makes sense that he would go away from the village, hide away and try to master himself in solitude, but he had you. The thought makes you frown, that he didn’t want you near, that he clearly doesn’t want you near, and he didn’t bother asking for your help.
Aonung’s growing more frustrated the longer you stand there, and you can sense wave after wave of pure, vicious, animalistic desire radiating off him and breaking over you in a way that makes something… change.
“You need to leave,” he whispers, his voice a small plead. The change from his snarls and roars for you to leave makes you shiver, and you can already see himself slipping away, his will cracking under your presence and his last attempts to get you to leave becoming weaker as his hunger conquers him.
But you don’t. Surprising yourself, and definitely him, you step closer again, body feeling strangely shaky, even nervous. His ever-darkening eyes watch your every step, and his grip tightens so hard you see his large hands paling, anchoring himself, stopping himself from moving.
“I thought we were supposed to help each other out,” you say quietly, taking another step closer.
“Please,” he breathes, his voice nothing more than a small whine, and you exhale shakily. He’s a fucking mess, and you find yourself longing to take care of it, living off that hunger he’s trying so hard to hold back. You can see that, and that’s probably why you do it.
Your hand reaches out to lift his face towards yours, fingers trapping his chin in your gaze. He’s obviously struggling, whether to refrain from looking away or trying to hold the stare, you don’t know. And you know is the dark desperation in those eyes, and understanding passes between the two of you.
“I won’t be able to control myself,” Aonung whispers, head unconsciously leaning into your palm, looking so lost and helpless you just want to fuck it all away.
“I know.”
“I’ll hurt you,” he says, chest heaving with the cracking efforts to control himself.
“I can take it,” you say quietly, gaze turning defiant. He should know that by now, you have an excellent threshold. Either way, you can’t imagine Aonung ever hurting you badly enough that you’d stay away anyway.
And then he cracks, his restraint crumbling, his grip holding himself back loosening, and he’s crashing his lips onto your with a vicious snarl.
With a small jolt, you remember you never kissed. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you; kissing seemed to intimate, and the arrangement had no room for intimacy. You always told yourself you didn’t have any time for it anyway.
But now, with Aonung tugging you closer with every second, kissing with such desperate fervour, it feels like he’s devouring you whole. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, rough and insatiable against yours, tongue slipping ruthlessly past your lips, fangs sinking lightly down on your warm, kissed skin. His hands are hungry too; roaming all over you with careless abandon, squeezing at the flesh of your ass, trailing between your thighs before infuriatingly pulling away to yank your top straight off your chest.
You let out a small hiss, whether you’re annoyed about the top or just shocked or just plain taken aback by his reckless thirst. The beads go scattering everywhere, the light, joyful plinks sounding completely inappropriate to Aonung’s heaving breaths, or the lewd, mortifying moan you let slip when he hefts you up into his lap and closes his lips around your breast.
You unconsciously arch backwards, pushing your chest forward, and he moves with careless hunger; licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks sharply at it before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.
And then, as though Aonung’s impatience gets the better of him (and you have to remind yourself that this is completely about him, and he wouldn’t be in the right mind to be processing your entire pleasure either), he’s pulling you away and tossing you against the floor.
You aren’t used to it. Sure, he’s been less than gentle before, but when he said he wouldn’t hold back, you admittedly had no idea what you were getting into. Seconds later he’s on top of you, pinning you down and sinking his fangs into your warm neck, inches away from the throb of your pulse.
Another symptom of heats and ruts; marking. It was another thing you’d been careful to avoid, so no one found out you were fucking, but Aonung’s animalistic instincts were obviously overpowering. And besides, it made you feel things you never would have imagined.=
At the first whine of his bite, Aonung knows you like it. So again and again he sinks his sharp fangs into your warm, soft flesh, along your neck, the underside of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the inside of your trembling thighs. Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger. You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.
Everything about him is just too much. His hands are holding you down with the force of an akula, as though he’s worried you’re going to scramble away from him, but you doubt you’d be able to anyway. He’s suckling at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. 
You’re never really that worried about being too gentle with him either, but you’re finding yourself more free in his rut state, knowing his mind is too hazy to focus on any of the little details he’d usually taunt you for if you dared to do them. He doesn’t care that you’re rutting into his face with desperation to rival his, in fact, you can see his hips searching for any sort of friction with the floor.
“Aonung,” you try to say, but it comes out as more of a broken whine. You cough and try again. “Aonung!”
He doesn’t respond, the only indicator he even heard you was the slight twitch of his ears before he’s sliding a thick finger into you. Trying your best to beat off the lewd moans that spill out of you, you try your best to tug at his head to speak to him, cause there’s no fucking way he’s listening properly when his head is nestled in its favourite spot, squeezed tightly between your thighs.
“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you huff, growing frustrated with the effort to slow him down. “That’s sort of the whole po-”
You cut yourself off with a positive shriek when he’s flipping you over, letting you flop against his front before dragging you up his body so your cunt is hovering over his face, thighs once again straddling the sides of his head in a very different scenario.
“Better?” he grunts, sounding extremely irritated.
“Where did you learn this?” you ask, looking in shock at the insatiable man beneath you, growing suddenly familiar with this position when your gaze drops to where it naturally falls, at the very large tent in his tewng. Aonung just huffs, as though growing increasingly annoyed that you keep delaying him.
“Don’t worry about that,” he growls. “You want to help me, go ahead. Now can I finish you off or are you going to keep yapping like your life depends on it?”
You scoff, but before your next words can be spoken, he drops you down onto his face and sucks at your clit. Hard. You let out a shocked squeak, jolting on his face, but he doesn’t protest at all by your weight, and when you worry you might suffocate him and try to lift off, his arm is looping around your waist and forcing you back down before remembering what you’re meant to be doing.
You reach out to grab his length, and he lets out a soft huff of impatience against you, the vibration making you flutter. Quickly, before you can get distracted to the point you’re completely useless to help him, you lick a long stripe up his length before closing your lips and swirling your tongue around the tip.
Thankfully, he seems somewhat satiated, letting out a relieved groan against your throbbing clit, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh. But unfortunately, you forgot to factor in the rut aspect.
Soon enough, he was thrusting mindless up into your mouth, hand reaching out to hold you there, force you to take it all down your throat. You oblige, tears leaking from your eyes, moans spilling around his length in your mouth from his relentless nipping and sucking and licking between your thighs.
It is, by far, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done. You almost feel ashamed of all of it – the lewd sounds you make, the mortifying wet sounds from Aonung between your legs, his strong abs rubbing against your naked tits as he ruthlessly thrusts up into your mouth – but you remind yourself that it’s all for a noble purpose. You’re helping him out, that’s all. That is all it ever is.
And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.
And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.
He seems larger than ever, pulsing and swollen and obscene, driven mad and inconsolable with the animalistic desire consuming him, and you know he’s probably completely deaf to you. He pays no mind to the small sobs you let out against his length, though he remains determinedly focused in his task of sucking your soul out of your cunt.
You can’t tell if your lightheadedness is caused by the lack of air from Aonung being stuffed so far down your throat you can imagine he’s prodding your heart, or the overwhelming pleasure from his far less than gentle treatment between your legs, or maybe even both.
It’s filthy. It’s obscene. It’s fucking humiliating really, that there is just something so deliciously wrong with this situation. Oh god, Tsireya probably knew Aonung was in rut, probably knew what would happen, what’s going on right now in this hidden hut in the forest. You can’t even bring yourself to care.
Aonung’s practically leaking into your mouth and you continue, trying helplessly to keep up with his insatiable paces, but you’re growing further from focus the longer he continues, the harder he sucks at you, the further he pushes himself into your throat.
It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and mingling with the tears flooding shamelessly down your cheeks.
And when you come undone, it’s with a moan that’s positively obscene. Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock.
There is something just so perfectly fucked about the scene, and when you come back down, tears and come and saliva smeared all over your face and collar and tits, Aonung is still hard, and when he pulls you back down to his face, you realise he has no intention of letting up anytime soon.
Your first orgasm has barely abated before you feel it building again. It’s humiliating really, all your sounds and the way Aonung can definitely feel you practically throbbing. It’s overwhelming to the point you think you might actually die, but there’s no physical possibility you could pull away, not with his arm looped strictly around your waist to hold you still.
It’s hot in the hut, or maybe it isn’t, but you feel as though there’s fucking fire coursing through your veins, heating your face and definitely between your thighs. It seems impossible how much you like this, it’s fucked and filthy as well, but there’s something about Aonung’s insatiable hunger and his plain, shameless desperation.
Your moans are growing hoarser at his absolutely relentless movements, warm, textured tongue and slicked mouth sealing around your overstimulated, throbbing clit as his hands move to squeeze the flesh of your waist and hips and ass. You’re writhing against him with enough force to break his nose, but he’s just groaning right back as though this is helping as much as anything in his frustrated rut.
It’s too much, and it feels as though you might actually pass out on this once. Humiliatingly, yet somehow shamelessly, you’re begging for more, for less, to stop, to keep going. It’s slowly slurring into a sobbing mess until finally all that comes out of your mouth are lewd, strangled cries. You think that somewhere amidst that strangled heap of moans that his name is repeated, over and over again, his body tensing under you with every time you whine it, followed by a demeaning flood of incoherent sobbing.
And then it crests.
Somewhere in the middle of your euphoric, delirious vision of blank, tranquil white and the peaceful ringing in your ears, it strikes you that it really is like a wave. Because when it breaks, you fucking flood.
Your muscles are tensed so tight you might pull something, and you couldn’t care less. You can’t feel anything anyway, beyond blow after blow of overwhelming, world-shattering pleasure, completely unaware of the way you squirted beyond his mouth, over his whole face and body, your intense release gleaming with the tahnì over his flushed skin.
You babble incoherently for a moment, eyes wide and drooping at the same time, mouth open in hopeless shock, hands searching to find purpose on his hips before Aonung is lifting you up, chucking you back against the floor and crawling onto your trembling body.
If you thought the regular Aonung, your Aonung, had gone before, you have no idea what’s happening now. There is no trace of that taunting, careful, jealous, gentle man in those large blue eyes. Hell, there’s not even any blue either, just a starved icy ring around the pools of ravenous onyx gazing at you, filled with raw thirst.
There’s no sign of Aonung in any of his movements, not with the way he’s tugging you into him like you’re a fucking ragdoll, not with the heaviness of his breath, the way he claps you against him so he can sink his fangs into your shoulder as he pushes past the ring of resistance and slides into your tight, welcoming heat.
Your cry is strangled by the dryness of your throat, feeling yourself being stretched to a point you don’t think he ever even met before. It’s painful, but you find yourself not wanting anything more than being able to take him, to be able to bring him pleasure, to let him into his paradise between your legs.
This now is a brutal reminder of why you’re here, who all of this is about. Aonung radiates complete careless selfishness as he pushes deep into you, until you physically can’t take him anymore, until you’re sobbing against his shining chest, gripping his arms so tight his flesh is starting to bruise, before he pulls out and slams back in. Fuck.
You don’t know shit, where you are, what way’s up, even if you’re fucking na’vi or tawtute, because the stretch of his relentless length feels as though he’s absolutely ridiculously massive compared to you. All you can do is cling to his tense, growling figure, praying to Eywa that this is satiating him, your own body limp in his iron grip.
Your lolling head allows him perfect placement to your neck and shoulders and chest, where he litters you with hungry nips, warm, wet, textured tongue licking away the blood his fangs spilt. Your own hands can’t do much either, but when your nails dig into his back, he lets out a low, snarling groan against your skin, and you can’t help raking you hands up and down, tracing your mark into the rippling muscles under your fingers.
And when you think you might actually pass away, where the pleasure has peaked so high it might as well be in the fucking heaven tawtute talk about, Aonung pulls out to the tip, fingers lacing back to tug your kuru, neck completely exposed and throat tight with the stretch, and gaze trapped helplessly in his.
“You’re mine,” he snarls, face inches from yours, large eyes deluged in sharp ferocity. “Mine, forest girl.”
And you find you can’t do anything but whine weakly against him. You can hardly breathe in this position, feeling impossibly empty without him stuffed deep in you, yet still being stretched wide by him. His gaze is raking fiercely over your tear-streaked, flushed face, before he buries himself deep inside you once more and completely loses himself.
And you do lose yourself. You just blank out, knowing nothing but his weight against you, his lewd growls in your heart, feeling strangely safe and comfortable. And content.
When you come back, whether seconds or minutes or hours or maybe even days have passed, you don’t know. All you know is you’re slumped against the floor, and you’re no longer drenched in shining sweat, no longer glimmering with release over your skin. The bites scattering your body are throbbing with a warm sting, no longer bleeding, now ruby adornments to your skin.
There is nothing more distressing than the realisation that hits you next; that you’re alone.
With a flare of panic that makes all of you throb painfully, you creak up to a small, seated position. It stings more than the bites, than the stretch and the intensity of your releases. Aonung must have left you, used and littered, a helpful toy during his rut. The wound deepens when you remember that’s all he would have thought it was.
He had no idea - let alone his mind being in its animalistic, desirous state - simply believing you were here to aid him in his struggles.
But then something catches your eye, a dark, muscular pile in the corner of the hut. With terrified tentativity, you pad lightly over to Aonung’s slumped form, back turned to you, face buried in his lap. You can see the marks you raked into his back as you move closer, but you don’t dare to touch him.
“Aonung?” you whisper nervously. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and the tension curling inside you throbs painfully again. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t look at you. “Are you…”
“You should go,” he says tightly. His voice sounds strained, painful, but his words sting further than any ache he could be possibly feeling. You still, hands half reached towards him, face twisted in a helpless expression of hurt, trying your best to breathe. You have no idea why you feel so vulnerable right now, why he suddenly has the power to break everything within you, everything you know, and why he’s already halfway there.
“What?” you whisper, and despite all your best efforts, your small, trembling voice expresses all the ache and horror and heartache you tried to hide. Aonung’s muscles tense a little at the so painfully obvious brokenness of your voice, and you would give anything to see what his face looks like right now, as he ruins you.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters.
That’s all. No name. No explanation. Just two meaningless words tossed carelessly your way, like some twisted reparation for all the damage his last three words did. You bite your lip, feeling your eyes welling with tears.
WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.
This is Aonung, the man you hated since the moment you landed in Awa’atlu, the same one just a week before you had practically at your fucking feet. The one you swore you’d never feel this way about. But now here you are, already breaking at his carelessness.
WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK.
The tears stinging your eyes disgust you. Since childhood you had never cried. Not when protecting your siblings, not when getting shot by demons, not when leaving your clan and birthright and all you had ever known. And now you are about to cry over a fucking man, one that you tried so impossibly hard not to care for.
FUCK HIM.
“Fuck you.”
The words are out, they are spoken. Not with quite the ferocity you meant to snarl them with, but the brokenness of your voice had a certain effect too. Aonung tenses, but that just sparks the usual fire inside you. He had no fucking right to be upset right now.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice steadily emotionless, and that fire blazes brighter.
“Don’t be,” you glare. “I mean, the perfect prince of the clan does no wrong, right?”
“I’m sor-”
“Stop!” you shout, rage boiling inside of you. “Stop fucking saying that Aonung. I mean, this was the arrangement, right? Careless sex, no strings, no attachment, no concern, fucking NOTHING.”
Aonung’s shoulders slump slightly, and once again, your annoyance flares that he still won’t face you.
“So what was all that shit about your mine if you’re just going to kick me out now,” you say rawly. “Was it just your rut? Are you just a weirdly jealous fucking man, getting mad when people touch shit that isn’t actually yours? Why are you so fucking angry-”
“Look at yourself!” Aonung explodes.
It takes you a moment to realise that he’s suddenly standing, towering over you, fists balled and whole body tense, face twisted in rage and disgust. With himself.
You can’t think of anything to say for a moment, tense, furious silence falling in the dangerously small space between the two of you.
“I mean, you’re hurt,” he says, eyes raking over your body. The bites are glowing against the dark, rich blue like sanguine crescents. Your skin looks raw and flushed still, and you realise that he must have wiped everything off you. “You’re ruined.”
“Aonung I-”
“And I did that to you,” Aonung sighs, face twisting in slight distress as his eyes fall over the bites and grips and few bruises he left over you. You let out the breath you’d been holding.
Aonung’s gaze flicks up to yours, emotionless and blank as you stare back at him. There’s terror in his eyes, which are slowly returning to their usual blue, pupils shrinking away as the animalism of his rut starts to pass. He’s worried, maybe you’ll slap him, or shout at him again. But your hand comes to rest gently on his face, thumb brushing lightly over his flushed cheek.
“I told you Aonung, I can take it.”
Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, face screwed up in overwhelming emotion. But his head unconsciously leans into your hand, and you smile slightly.
“But I hurt you,” he whispers, sounding disgusted with himself.
“You’ll have to try harder than that skxawng,” you smile weakly, and Aonung lets out a shaky laugh. “But I was more than happy to do what it took to help you.”
“Eywa,” he groans, his own hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sor-”
“Stop apologising skxawng,” you frown. “Or I’m actually going to leave.”
Instantly, Aonung’s hand closes around your own, his fingers lacing through yours and tugging you back, so you’re inches away from him, neck tipped back to look at him. There’s that usual grin playing around his face; although his face remains blank, you can see the smirk glittering in those eyes.
“Go on princess,” he whispers. “What were you saying, before I so rudely interrupted you?”
“That you’re a complete idiot,” you grumble, but you don’t let go of him. You don’t want to ever let go of him. “What did you mean before, about me being-”
“Mine,” Aonung finishes. “You’re mine.”
And you feel a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.
“Alright,” you smile, blinking up at him.
“Alright?” he echoes, as though that wasn’t at all the answer he was expecting, what he dared to hope for.
“Yep. I’m yours, fishlips.”
There’s a brief moment where he’s silent, eyes wide and staring blankly at you. He blinks several times, lips parting, before he’s stepping in and wrapping his arms tight over you, pillowing your body in his own. After a moment, you lean in even closer and snake your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.
“I still think you’re a skxawng,” you mumble against his skin, and his laugh rumbles warm and comforting against you.
“Of course syulang,” Aonung grins, squeezing your waist lightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You stay in that embrace for a moment, before he realises just how tired you are, and then he’s instantly fussing about you, making sure you’re alright, that you don’t need anything, before he’s making you rest against him, cuddled warmly and comfortably on the floor.
His hand is resting lightly over you, lightly tracing your darker patterns or gently playing with your hair as you drift comfortably off, head resting comfortably against his solid chest. You can feel his warm heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring.
When you wake up, he’ll be waiting to be able to hold you tighter without being scared of waking you up, having already gone out and hunted while you were sleeping. He’ll take you gently back to the village where you both deny any of the suspicious comments your friends and family shoot you, but no one believes you; the hopeless grins on your faces and the sly grins you send each other aren’t all that sneaky.
But for now, you’re warm and comfortable and happy in your fucked out, satisfied state, snuggled against the man you once hated so fiercely.
As far as it goes, you came out alright on this one.
Quite the victory it was.
Your tìyora.
──────⊱⁜⊰──────
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farfromstrange · 11 months
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Can I make a Matt Murdock x reader request. You and Matt are fighting, you kick Matt out of bedroom. Matt sits outside the bedroom door and hears you crying yourself to sleep. Maybe there is a happy ending
Hi, nonnie! Thank you so much for your request (and I apologize for the delay). I hope you don't mind that I put my own spin on it. I got heavily inspired by Taylor Swift's "You're Losing Me" which I can't seem to get out of my head. I felt it to be the perfect foundation for your request. Still, I stayed as true to it as I could, and since you said "Maybe there is a happy ending" I ended it kind of on a hopeful note. I hope you like what I made out of this and that it's anything like what you've imagined!
You're Losing Me | Matt Murdock x Reader
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)
Summary: You and Matt get into an argument and you throw him out of the bedroom with a choice to make. You cry through most of the night as Matt sits in front of the bedroom door, contemplating and hating on himself until you can't take it anymore.
Warnings: Angst, relationship problems, Reader feels neglected because of Daredevil, Matt Murdock is an idiot when it comes to his feelings, talk about breaking up, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3.4k
A/n: This song isn't even released yet and it's killing me inside...
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You had planned for a normal evening with him. Dinner, dessert, and a nice bath. You promised each other that today, you would take the time out of your day to spend time together. If it isn’t your work, it’s his, and if it happens to be neither, it’s usually his hunger for justice that ends with you alone in your shared apartment at night. You get it you do, and you support him with all you have, but tonight was so important to you and he promised you he would be there, that he would put Hell’s Kitchen on hold for just a few hours of normalcy in your chaotic lives, and he still didn’t show. 
You feel neglected. Part of you feels bad for wanting him to choose you over the responsibilities that are on his shoulder, but you have needs too. You’re a human being that craves the touch of your boyfriend and his undivided attention every once in a while. It’s not a bad thing.
You know what you’ve signed up for, and you don’t often complain, but you asked him for one night where you can show each other how much you truly appreciate each other, without you having to patch him up after a rough night of patrol and him thanking you with endless kisses, and it hurts that he couldn’t even be there for an hour or two because something in the city called him and he had to be there. 
“Everything okay?” he has the audacity to ask when he comes home, luckily unscathed, and finds you brushing your teeth in the bathroom. You don’t greet him, even though he initiates a kiss, and your distance makes him grow significantly more suspicious. There have been only a handful of times when you’ve given him the cold shoulder, let alone refused to let him kiss you. Something isn’t right, but it infuriates you to no end that he can’t even make the connection himself after you’ve practically begged him to stay with you. 
He thinks you can be so easily swayed and that you’ll just take and take and take until you’re okay with being second place, but he is wrong. This time, he is so wrong, alarms are blaring all around him to showcase just how wrong he is, and even with his sensitive ears, he can’t hear them. 
“Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?” he asks. 
The audacity to blame it on your well-being seems to come from a place of genuine confusion, but for someone who prides himself on being perceptive and always knowing what you need, he’s missed a billion too many hints. Not just today but for weeks; your feelings have been eating away at you, and your fear of losing him grows alongside the anger that makes it hard for you to even look at him without crying. 
As you look around the apartment, you remember talking to him about how the different colors of the billboard give the place its unique beauty. He’d laughed and told you that you were the first person to think so. You remember telling him that it fits him, the colors and the milky windows and the almost nostalgic flair that his home carries. You’ve lost count of the many kisses shared in the lights of the color wheel instead of the artificial yellow of the ceiling lamp. The vibrations of the billboard are more comfortable to his heightened senses than those of the lightbulbs covering the apartment, he’d told you, so from the day you started dating, you’ve barely used the light switch and relied on the funky little ads that play in front of your windows every night. 
But of what worth is seeing the beautiful colors if the person you used to describe them to is barely present anymore?
You let out an almost bitter laugh and turn to his confused frame in the door. “I wanted you here,” you say. 
Matt nods, but his jaw is clenched and he looks as stern as always. “I told you, the city needed me,” he says. 
“But I needed you too.”
You’re growing tired of repeating the same few words over and over again. It’s like he refuses to listen or even acknowledge that your emotional needs are important to you and that you simply want him by your side because he is the man you love. Every time you tell him, he tells you he loves you, but you’re not sure if you believe him anymore. He can’t tell that this is killing you inside, even though he should. He used to, once. He used to be so attuned to your needs that he would drop everything, but for a while now, something has been missing, and you now realize that the thing missing between you is him, but he simply won’t come back to you, no matter how tightly you cling to him and try to pull him back from the abyss. 
He doesn’t even seem to realize that he is slowly losing you. Your heart aches and it wants to stop beating; it wants to stop beating just for him, but you know that your soul is dependent on him, which hurts even more because no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape, and he will keep on ignoring you until it breaks you. 
You know he doesn’t mean any harm. He loves you, he does, but you both have different ways of showing it and you both love and crave certain things in very different ways. When he’s not Daredevil, he’s sheer perfection, the best boyfriend you could ask for, but then nights come around and you realize that begging for his attention is something that should not be part of a healthy relationship. 
But God, you don’t want to give up. You want him to see you, just once, and you want him to listen so you can fix this before it’s too late. And you are so close to turning your back and saying goodbye, shattering both of your hearts in the process. You don’t want it to come to this, but if he keeps this up, you see no other way out to keep your heart safe. You’re getting tired of healing your own wounds while also treating his. At this point, finding a pulse in your relationship is getting harder and harder by the second.
As you stare into the dark apartment behind him, the red of the billboard dancing in patterns along the leather couch, you wonder if it’s time. 
“It’s always them and never me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “and it hurts.”
He senses the vulnerability in your voice, and his eyebrows furrow as he swallows the lump in his throat. his heart aches at what you’re implying. The calm sound of your voice almost breaks him. “I don't understand,” he whispers back. 
You smile sadly at him. “I know you don’t.”
He calls your name softly, but there is a hint of frustration behind his voice. “You know that I’m the only one who even thinks about doing something against all the pain out there, right? I’m the only one who fights. I’m there when no one else is, and the people are dependent on me. Terrible things happen at night here and I have to do something! I can't just leave people to die for dinner or- or a movie night that I can't even enjoy. That's not how it works. I- It's not my fault, I just have to do this, and you should know that by now. I can't change who I am…”
It’s always the same. His words brush past you like a gush of wind. He’s talking, but you don’t hear him. You’re flatlining, and your relationship fades before your very eyes. 
“Matt,” you stop him before he can talk himself further out of your life, “if you keep going at this pace, you’re going to lose me sooner or later. You’re going to lose me because you’re already in the process of doing so,” you say. “I’m not asking you to stop or change who you are, I’m just asking for you to be there from time to time when I need you to just be my boyfriend. I need you to fight. I need you to put in an effort because this relationship can’t survive if we both don’t give the same. Lately, it feels like I’m the only one who’s fighting, and it’s making me feel so alone.”
You gave him everything, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop the bleeding, and you hope he finally sees the scars his behavior has left deep within your soul. 
He doesn’t move. You throw your hands up. “Just say something, do something, anything! Just fight for me,” you beg. 
Nothing. 
You swallow your tears. He’s like a rock, unmoving, and his unfocused eyes are darting around wildly. You don’t care. You brush past him into the bedroom, grabbing the pillow and blanket from his side of the bed. You toss it to him worldlessly, meeting his sightless gaze. 
“Sweetheart,” he begins, but he doesn’t know what to say. 
You cut him off, “If you can’t listen to what I have to say, I don’t want you in bed with me. Think about what you want. If you love me, truly love me, you show me, but if you don’t… well, make your decision. I won’t sit by and take it any longer. I’m tired.”
“Sweetheart, wait!”
The bedroom door slams into his face and he is left with his bedding in the cold space of the living room. He sighs, dropping his forehead against the milky glass, calling your name, but you don’t answer. 
He slides down the wall, hearing you climb into bed with heavy limbs. His mind begins to reel, and he finally begins to realize too late that he screwed up. He took you for granted, and he gave up fighting for no other reason than simply because he’s never been more scared. 
Matt is so in love with you, it hurts. He’s felt you pull away before, but he tried not to let it get to him. That was a mistake, as he now realizes. He would never prioritize being Daredevil over you, but he’s not sure how to tell you without sounding like an idiot. You accept him, all of him, and you support him unconditionally. That can get overwhelming for someone who’s not used to being accepted. All he wants is to be seen and do the right thing, but every time he does, he goes about it the wrong way, and the same people he’s vowed to protect end up getting hurt. 
He tried to give you space from the buy life he’s leading to show you he cares, but he now realizes that his attempts to keep you safe backfired and might as well have sabotaged his relationship with the best thing that has ever happened to him. By trying to keep you safe, he’s involuntarily pushed you away. Your love has never been anything short of perfect. You have never been overbearing or pushed him beyond his limits. It’s what he appreciates about you; your blind faith in him is what keeps him going.
But he’s been blind in more sense than one, not realizing how much effort goes into a healthy relationship, and he realizes now that the unique circumstances that surround your life together require even more effort. You’ve been fighting in his war, taking care of him, catching him, and he’s viewed everything through tunnel vision for so long, he forgot that, to keep you and to make you happy, he has to fight just as hard. 
His hand touches the glass of the bedroom door, the shadow appearing on the other side, but your eyes are closed. He opens his mouth to whisper your name. It’s then he realizes you’re crying. He can hear you sniffle, trying to muffle your sobs that break free into your shared pillow. It smells like him and you, and the scent seems to be overwhelming to you. Still, you won’t let it go. Your tears roll off the green silk, mixing the salt with the sandalwood of his cologne. 
Matt wants nothing more than to breach the barrier, storm inside and hold you. He wants to apologize, he wants to make things right, but suddenly, words don’t seem enough anymore. He’s not sure how to tell you exactly how he feels because he never has before, and his inability to do just about anything makes him afraid of what’s to come. He doesn’t deserve you, he’s losing you, and a big part of him plays with the thought of letting you go so you can move on and find someone who can give you exactly what you need and deserve. Because he can admit his mistakes all he wants and promise to be better, but he is his biggest enemy and his biggest saboteur; he knows that one day, he will break any promise he makes and then you’re going to be twice as crushed. He can’t do that to you. He loves you, but he can’t hurt you any more than he already has.
You’re both sick. The air is thick with your shared pain and the fear of losing what is most dear to the both of you, but hearing you cry because of him makes him want to throw himself off the nearest cliff or hide somewhere and never come out again. He doesn’t deserve someone else’s love if he can’t give it back the way the other person deserves, and you’re truly a diamond compared to him. You’re the most precious gift he’s ever received, as is your love, but this is no way to treat someone as good as you. 
All you’re doing is for him to say something, to fight for you, to risk something and come back to you, and he can’t even do that. He’s so lost in self-pity and the sound of your tears, he finds himself drowning. 
Your tears carry on for what feels like hours. The agony is etched deep into your bones. You’re exhausted, your muscles ache, but the sobs just won’t stop. He’s so close yet so far away. Of course, you can see his silhouette outside, his hand against the glass, and his lips moving with unspoken words. You need him, but even so close to you he is so far away. 
Though as you think about it, there has to be a cure for even the worst of illnesses when it comes to a relationship just like yours. You’re sure there is something. If only Matt would see it too. He’s so caught up in himself, he makes your symptoms worse, but you love him too much to let him give up on you, even though you’ve never been more tired of fighting. 
You’re not sure what compels you to do so, but your hand finds his against the glass. He can feel your warmth through the cold and he sucks in a sharp breath. 
You have become a sad song, but every sad song can be turned into something hopeful, can it not? You would have never considered yourself a positive person, but as you see Matt cowering in front of the bedroom, clearly conflicted, you know he wants to fight, he just doesn’t know how to deal with himself amidst something incredibly new to him. 
His voice sounds hoarse when he speaks up. “You know, I see you in my own kinda way,” he says. 
“What’s that mean?” your voice is almost entirely gone from crying. 
“You’re everything to me, I just don’t know how… I didn’t think it would be this hard. On my end. I didn’t think it would take so much from me to make this work, but I… I want to make this work. But I can’t, and you deserve so much better than that.”
He’s crying too, you can hear it. You want to touch him, but you’re not quite there yet, so you sit down against the door, your back to his, only the glass protecting you now. 
“You’re right, I deserve better,” you say, “but that doesn’t mean I need someone else.”
“But maybe it’s better.”
You hope he’s not being serious. “Don’t say that, Matthew.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you.” 
You almost don’t catch his words, but when you do, the sob that follows breaks your heart. 
He ruffles his hair, removing his hand from the glass. Your vicinity hurts. He doesn’t want to lose you, but sometimes you have to lose what you love. 
“You can’t decide that this is over just because you don’t want to hurt me,” tears of your own start forming again, “that’s not how adult relationships works. I know you’re not used to being loved or being in a stable relationship, but that’s why fighting is so important. So please, baby, let us fight.”
He sniffles, covering his face with the crook of his elbow. 
“They say you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone, but I don’t even want us to go this far,” you say. You’re being so open and vulnerable with him, and every word spills the purest truth. 
Matt wipes his cheeks. “Are we too far gone?” he asks, waiting for an honest answer. He knows you would never lie to him. 
“No,” you breathe. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t take me back either. I’m complicated and I can’t promise that I can keep all of my promises because I screw up. A lot. It’s just who I am. That’s why I said you deserve better.”
“I deserve you, Matthew.”
“No, you deserve better. That’s what I said. A pathological people pleaser. You can’t say that’s something you want to grow old with. And I’d understand if you said it wasn’t. Maybe the vision of us was more of a fever dream, anyway.”
The door slides open. Matt looks up, his eyes are red, his cheeks stained with tears, and his resolve cracks some more when he feels you towering over him, then sitting down next to him. 
You take his hand in yours. “I only need you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I told you to fight for me, and you didn’t walk away, so I know you want this. I just need you to admit it, I need you to promise that you’ll try, that we’ll both try. I don’t need you to be perfect, I just need you to show me that you want this. I just need you to try.”
Your touch sets his skin on fire. He whimpers when he feels your fingertips brush his cheek. “I want to try,” he says, “but I don’t know how-”
You shush him again, your name a fleeting breath on his lips. “That’s all I need.”
“What?”
“I just need you to see me and show me how much you care. Just try, that’s all I’m asking for you. Everything else… we’ll figure it out. I’ll find the faith in us again, you just have to choose me.”
Your eyes are hopeful, he can feel them. Slowly, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours. Your salty tears mingle and you melt into his touch, only for the moment, only until he pulls away and tries to look into your eyes as he says, “I will always choose you.”
And then you’re diving right back in. This time, you initiate the kiss, but he is more than eager to return the display of affection. His hands caress your face, almost as if you’re so fragile, you might break under his touch. And maybe you might. You have lost sight of each other and you need to find it again.
“I choose you too,” you break off the kiss to say, “because I love you, Matthew, and I don’t want to give up on us.”
His nose nuzzles against yours and you succumb to the magic of his lips once again. It’s his way of telling you that giving up on you is the last thing he would ever want to do, no matter how badly he screws up, and you are more than willing to run back into his arms and let him hold you through the night because finally, oh finally, you got what you wanted, which is simply him, not just a piece but all of Matt Murdock, and he swears not to leave your side until sunrise. 
And this time, he keeps his promise, his head resting against your chest and your limbs entangled as you begin to heal, together. 
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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year
Text
LIKE FINE WINE
A/N: i don't know where this one came from, but i thought about this while cleaning today so i wrote it!
WORD COUNT: 1k
SUMMARY: Harry needs glasses, but he refuses to put them on and there's a deeper meaning behind it than you thought.
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“H, don’t be such a baby!”
“I’m not!”
“Then put them on!”
“No.”
“Oh my God!” you groan which then turns into laughter as the infuriating conversation carries on over such a mundane and insignificant thing. Or so you thought it was insignificant, but it seemingly means the end of the world to Harry.
He sits by the table, arms folded over his chest, a grumpy look on his face that reminds you of the teddy bear from his Gucci collection. He denies having any similarities to the bear, but at times like this you just want to take a photo of him and put it side-by-side with the design.
Grabbing the pair of glasses that’s been treated as the devil by your husband you hold them out for him.
“H, just put them on. Please!”
“Why? I’ll just wear them when I need them,” he shrugs, still refusing to even touch the glasses.
“Tell me a time when you don’t need to see,” you narrow your eyes before sighing. “Come on, you can’t be this vain!”
“I’m not vain!” he scoffs, but even just the way he said that tells otherwise.
“Then put on the glasses! You need them! You’ve been squinting at the TV for months and you’ve been misreading signs at concerts!”
“I feel like I’m being attacked,” he mumbles under his breath as he stands from the table, moving to the kitchen and you exhale in defeat, putting the glasses back to the table before you follow him.
“Harry, why wouldn’t you wear them? You were grumpy before we went to the ophthalmologist too, but I thought you were just afraid there might be more to it than just your eyesight going bad, like having glaucoma or something. I thought you’ll be fine once it turns out you just need glasses, so then what’s the problem here?”
“It’s not gonna be fine, Y/N! I don’t want glasses, I see just fine!” he protests again.
“You don’t!” you laugh in disbelief. “Is it the glasses? You don’t like them on you? We can just get another one or maybe get contact lenses, how about that?”
“I don’t want any of that! I’m fine and my eyes are fine too!” he snaps back, truly upset this time and you know it’s past just some random tantrum when he storms into the bedroom and shuts the door behind him.
There’s really more to it, now you know. But how can you help him if he doesn’t talk to you about it?
Leaving the glasses behind you go after your upset husband. You don’t knock on the door, just softly push it open, peeking inside before walking in, seeing Harry sitting on the edge of the bed on his side, his head hanging low. You sit beside him and place a gentle hand on his knee closer to you.
“Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“I told you, I just don’t want to wear—“
“I know there’s more to that, H. Why are you so against them?”
He exhales sharply, closing his eyes for a moment before he takes your hand on his knee. At first you think he’ll just push it away, but instead, he links his fingers together with yours, so you give him a squeeze and kiss his shoulder as you wait for him to speak up.
“It’s just a reminder that… I’m getting older. I never needed glasses, my eyesight has been perfect for over thirty years!” His head falls back and you just want to kiss him and tell him it’s alright, but you also want him to talk it out so you remain silent and wait for him to continue. “Now it’s the glasses, tomorrow I might wake up with a random back pain and then boom, suddenly I’m sixty and feel like I’ve wasted my time.”
“Do you feel like you’ve been wasting your time?” you softly ask. He takes a few moments to think before shaking his head.
“No. I spend it with you, with making music… I’m not wasting it.”
“So then why do you think you’ll waste it in the future?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers, finally looking into your eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me, it’s just… Sometimes it hits me how fast time is passing by.”
“I know, it’s scary. But as long as you do things you love doing and spend your time with your loved ones, you’re not wasting it.”
“You’re right.”
“Plus, we’re getting old together,” you smile at him. “I’ve been finding grey hair all over my head for years.”
“They look gorgeous on you.”
“Ah! So you’ve noticed too?” you gasp with a laugh.
“Yeah, but I think it’s sexy,” he shrugs.
“You know what’s sexy too? Glasses,” you bring up again and he takes it noticeably easier this time.
“Uh-huh, right,” he mumbles.
“Come on, let me see you in them.”
You pull him out of the bedroom and back to the dining table, taking your previous spots and you hand the glasses to him. This time, he takes them and puts them on.
You can’t push down a gasp.
“What? Is it that bad?” he asks, reaching up to take them off, but you stop him instantly.
“No, it’s… God, you look really hot in them.”
“Really? You’re just saying that to make me feel better, aren’t you?” he narrows his eyes at you, but you shake your head, moving closer to him, hands on his thighs as you lean in, your face just inches away from his.
“No, you look so fucking sexy, Harry, I swear… Like a… Like a sexy professor,” you smirk at him coyly.
“And you’re into that?”
“Kinda. You had nothing to worry about, you age like fine wine,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him
He examines your face, looking for any signs of lies, but when he realizes you actually meant it, he can’t hold back his growing grin.
“Oh yeah? So, Miss Styles, I’m afraid you’re late on the assignment. What should we do about that?” he asks, getting into some roleplaying, his issues with the glasses now long gone.
“Well, Professor Styles, I have a few ideas how I can make up for it,” you giggle before pressing your lips against his.
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