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ceilidho · 3 months

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 5) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

As it happens, the sun does rise the next day.

You wake up gummy-mouthed, brow furrowing before your eyes even open. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, diaphanous and left open from the night before. Warmer than usual. It draws you back into its arms for a brief moment, ensconced in its warmth, bathed in the fuzzy in-between of wake and sleep.

Memories trickle in slowly at first. It comes piecemeal; your first thoughts, a shallow pool that ripples when you dip your hands in, memories of the day previous scattering until you wait for them to come back together. You open your eyes to the window opposite you again. When you blink, it doesn’t fade like a dream. Your lips purse unconsciously because the truth is that you can’t recall ever sleeping in a room with a window. Or in a bed as comfortable as the one you’re in.

An arm around your waist pulls you in tight.

Your stomach swoops when you register the body behind you, a bracket of warmth at your back. Your immediate instinct is to kick away, go flailing off the edge of the bed and frantically search for the nearest object to brandish at the man in your bed. Then a hand runs up from your belly to cup your breast and your thoughts fizzle out again. His hand closes around the flesh and holds there, slotting your nipple between two thick fingers. Even with the fabric of your shift separating his hand from your skin, the feeling is electrifying.

He grumbles against the back of your head and the sound reverberates through you. A full body shudder. Mildly peeved that your neck breaks out in a sweat. The sound is familiar though, as is the way he chuffs in his sleep, a brief expelling of air that glides over the naked skin of your neck.

Something about his touch makes it click. You remember the glimmer of his badge and the rattle of the belt around his waist. The memory of his touch is bone deep; you’ve known John Price for less than two days, but you’ve felt almost every part of him by now.

His legs tangle with yours under the sheets, a big thigh slotted through yours, giving you a perch to sit on. The two of you completely intertwined. You don’t remember falling asleep wrapped around him; maybe the slightest cuddle before rolling away to the edge of the bed.

When the hand on your breast squeezes, you inhale sharply. Loud. It echoes in the small room, the only sound apart from Price’s slow, even breaths. Part of you aches to move his hand. Again, he touches you where no one’s touched you before. You count your blessings that the sound of your gasp hardly makes him stir, sure that if Price were to wake up now, he’d never let you live down the way your nipples bead at his touch.

As if your traitorous body answers to you these days. Your skin heats and sweats without your approval, heart always at a gallop when the man now known as your husband lingers close to you or sets a hand on your waist. Maybe in time it’ll become easier to withstand his touch, but the thought of lingering in his house even a week longer puts you on edge.

It feels more like a curse than a blessing when his hand slowly draws back down the length of your chest. Panic sets in the moment his hand twitches, worried that Price might have woken up, but he breathes the same. Even, deep. He’s touchy in his sleep, always looking for some part of you to hold. You relax for a moment when his hand lingers on your belly. The weight is almost comforting, in a sense. Tender.

Then, it dips farther down.

“John—John—” you whisper frantically, voice far too thin to pierce through the veil of sleep still shrouding him, trying to push his hand back up to no avail. He grunts in his sleep, curling around you.

The hand on your belly sinks between your legs. It bunches up your shift, dragging the fabric of your nightdress between your legs. Your heart thunders in your chest.

He cups your sex roughly, a firm hold that doesn’t budge when you try to squirm away. You’ve felt those fingers on your backside and curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, but between your thighs his palm feels wide. A man’s hand. The texture of his calloused fingers is dulled through the fabric of your shift, but you swear you can feel its heat.

He rocks the palm of his hand into your sex, the heel rubbing up into the apex of your thighs, making your whimpers go feathery and frail. You nearly bite clean through your bottom lip trying to stave off the moan crawling up your throat. His fingers rub at your hole through the gusset of your underwear and shift, the tip pushing just barely inside.

A fevered, aching hotness spreads in your belly when his fingers sink in just the slightest bit. You can feel how sopping wet the fabric is, where he uses your own slickness to push inside.

John practically growls when you finally cave and press your hand over his, tilting his hand just enough to grind the heel of his palm against your pearl. The shame is almost unbearable, so desperate for pleasure that you’d use a man in his sleep to reach your end. Hardly your heaviest sin, but it sinks into you anyway, another feather on the scale. Still, you choke back a suffering gasp and press down harder into his hand.

Pleasure suffuses through you when he grinds his palm just right. First, utter relief, the tension draining from between your shoulder blades and dripping onto the bed under you. Then, burning hotter than before, chewing your lip to keep quiet, terrified that you might wake John. Terrified that he might not, might keep you hovering over the edge with your feet kicking out.

You’ve played at touching yourself before, but never with a firm, steady hand. Never without the aftertaste of guilt. It whispers in the back of your mind even now, a thorny prick, but then it whispers something else. It’s not sinful if he’s your husband, mumbled deliciously into the whorl of your ear, in John’s voice somehow. A husband doesn’t ask forgiveness for spreading his wife’s thighs open. He takes what’s his.

John ruts against your bottom, huffing into your neck when you bite off a wail and breathe out heavier instead. The heavy shaft between his legs that you’d gotten a glimpse of the night before presses into the curve of your backside to nearly the small of your back. Thicker, hard as it is; you can only imagine how it’d feel to have that inside of you, to have him lay you flat on your back and bury his length into you.

His hand tightens over your mound, gripping harder than before. Two fingers nudging at your entrance break you. It sends you down the side of a waterfall, frantically trying to swim your way back before plummeting down into the frothy depths, directionless in the water until you surface.

John spills inside his trousers against your back. You feel it when he grunts and jerks against your backside one last time.

You lie there, basking in the aftermath while the sun warms up the room. It’ll be at least an hour before the heat truly sets in. For now, it’s a gentle warmth. John’s hand is a loose hold between your legs now, petting your sex softly in his sleep. You feel your guilt just on the periphery, waiting with bated breath for you to come back down to earth.

You feel John shift behind you and then a kiss is pressed into the crown of your head. Every inch of your body stills.

“Morning, darlin’,” your husband croons, the smile thick in his voice. “That was a nice way to start the day.”

You’ve felt embarrassment before. You’ve felt shame, humiliation, horror, terror, guilt, and a medley of other sentiments that are part and parcel of living at the behest of others. So it’s not embarrassment that leaves you lying frozen in bed while John climbs out of the other side of the bed, but perhaps its cousin.

It weighs on you so heavily that you can hardly even bring yourself to twist your head towards him.

“You were—” your voice is brittle-thin when you speak “—awake?”

He divests his nightwear with ease, pulling out a new day’s pants and shirt from the chest of drawers and then rounding the bed to take a knee by your side and cup your cheek. Not the same hand, you think wildly, staring at him wide eyed, still lying on your side. Frozen there. Tempted to say something else until he leans forward to press a firm kiss to your forehead.

“I’m an early riser,” he says, a warm smile spreading across his face. He’s got a lovely smile, you think in a daze.

He leaves you alone in the room, whistling on his way down the stairs. They creak one-by-one under his weight. When you finally sit up in the bed, you can vaguely hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. A pot clanging against a counter before the sound of the screen door shutting behind him. He must’ve gone to the well to fetch water.

It takes an age for you to find the strength to get up out of bed. There’s still a wet spot on the front of your shift that makes you blink when it brushes against your legs. Then heat up like a roast duck. You’re tempted to change into your daywear and maybe bury the shift somewhere out back where you never have to acknowledge it ever again, but when you look over at the chest of drawers, all you can think of is John dropping trou just a moment ago.

Your stomach aches all over again.

You limp hot-cheeked down the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast. The smell of fresh brewed coffee wafts from down the hall. You take a peek out the front window before joining him. Still hesitant, embarrassed like you’ve been caught. And you have been, you know. Caught and reeled in. Dragged to a courthouse and married to a man who hasn’t yet called you anything other than darling and honey. You wonder if he even remembers your name—or, your supposed name.

Beyond the dirt trampled horse pen, a thick blanket of wild grass sways gently in the morning breeze, dotted with white wildflowers. Hardly a cloud in the sky today. Bluer than the bluest sea. This early, the sun only glints in the eye, a spectral everywhereness about it. In the noontime, it’ll hover overhead and glare down balefully, a sweltering curse.

In the kitchen, John pours coffee into two cups. Rich stuff, not the bitter sludge served on the train or the watery cocoa that your aunt used to make to carry you through the brutal east coast winter months. You get a whiff of chicory.

It must amuse him to hear you hovering in the doorway before creeping tentatively into the kitchen because he looks up with a little smile. You keep shame as a periapt around your neck these days, it seems; it must jingle when you walk.

“Good morning,” John says.

“You know—I didn’t know you were awake,” you blurt out, fists clenched at your sides.

His eyes twinkle. “I caught on to that when you froze like a mouse.”

The comparison makes your lips twitch. “You should’ve told me that you were awake.” You don’t have any right to scold him. Even as the words come out of your mouth, you know how foolish they sound and what they say about you. Little harlot that chases her pleasure with her sleeping husband’s hand.

“Told you?”

“It’s only polite.”

“Polite.” There’s a teasing note in his voice that ruffles your feathers.

“It’s only right.”

“Well then. Want me to wake you up the right way next time?” he asks instead, leaning back against the countertop.

You frown. “The right way?”

He holds out a hand, beckoning you to him. You go, but with a stumbling step, nearly tripping into him when you take his hand. Without the barrier of your shift, you can feel the calluses on his hand when your fingers run over his palm. A shiver races down your spine. He reels you into his chest and holds you in place with a hand on your low back, pulling you so close to him that you’re practically leaning against him, as tangled as you were upstairs in the bed.

John lets go of your hand to tip your chin up. “Barely got my hand wet, darling. Next time, I’m gonna pull that little shift up around your waist…wake you up nice and easy with my mouth. Drown out that voice in your head giving you a million and one reasons to leave. Yes, I can—” he huffs a laugh when you squirm in his arms, held steadfast to his chest “—I can tell you’re not yet settled. Maybe itching to run even, take the next train out. Go back to your old ways. But I said I’d make it good, darling, and I will. You just wait for tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. I’ll make it good enough to give you a reason to stay.”

Your mouth is dry when you rasp, “Your mouth?”

“Every morning,” he promises, sun-sweet. “I’ll make it so you don’t have a care in the world apart from when you’ll come next.”

Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it. His words make your stomach pull in taut, leave you a threadbare, panting mess. Like a new language, spoken in stuttered breaks when you repeat it back in your head; the words somehow sutured together into a phrase that you know you’ve dreamt and forgotten.

In the wispy daylight hours, it’s hard to see where the edges of you diverge from his. You’re still back in the bed upstairs with your legs tangled in his and his arms pulling you in close, the burr of his beard scratching the back of your neck. Touching the dark hair of his forearms, the groves of the muscles there, the softness of skin giving way to the hard musculature underneath.

And then he dips his head for a morning kiss, his rough whiskers against your lips breaking the spell.

“You haven’t brushed your teeth,” you complain, face puckered up at the stale taste of his mouth. When he smiles against your mouth, you can feel his beard drag up your skin the slightest bit. He draws back.

“Well, guess I oughta wash up. Think you can start breakfast ‘till I get back?”

Cooking you can handle. You coat the pan with a lump of butter that melts over the iron. Two eggs cracked and sizzling in the butter. When he comes back, John cuts thick slices of bread that you heat in the pan with the eggs, the butter making the bread golden crisp. And it’s quiet. It’s quiet and there are birds twittering outside in the trees, chickadees and red-winged blackbirds.

“Do you have any fruit?” you ask. More of a mumble.

He hums. “Canned peaches in the pantry. Jam too.”

The pantry’s well stocked. Jams and jellies, cured and salted meats stored away in jars. Cornmeal and other grains. Pickled and canned vegetables. It’s the fruit you’re after though—the preserved peaches with the gingham fabric nestled under the sealed lid. Thick, juicy slices that come out of the jar coated in their own syrup that spreads out on the plate and touches the edge of your toast, softening the hard crust.

You sit across from him to eat. Breakfast is a quiet affair interrupted only by your eyes flickering up to his face with each bite. Interrupted only by your skittering heartbeat. It’s hard not to be drawn to him, tempted to sneak a glance. Though dressed in his daywear, the edges of sleep still cling to him faintly, in the lines around his eyes and the folds of his forehead. You catch your eyes caressing those spots with a tenderness that makes your heart flare red for a moment, troubled. Like a red hot iron glowing at its hottest point.

There’s no denying that you’d like to stay the course. Perhaps just out of curiosity.

You’re ruled by your history though. Again, you look over at him, watching him silently and wondering what it must be like to live without that pressed upon you. To not be fixed like a violet between parchment paper. You’ll leave eventually, you know; when the moment presents itself. Even now, though he stares down at his plate, contemplating something that he doesn’t vocalize, you know that he’s aware of your every move. If you should so much as twitch, he’d know.

A day or two won’t matter, you hope at least; there’s always a chance that your name might come across his desk, but there’s little chance at this moment that he’ll link it back to you, not thinking of you as his wife of another name that he refuses to say. It sits in his mouth like chaw. What you can’t wait out are the men surely following your scent, dogs with their noses to the dirt, sniffing you out.

There will be a moment when his attention shifts. You just have to wait him out.

The next train out, you think, scrapping butter onto your toast, picking at the crust with nervous fingers. You set a peach slice on top to make the perfect bite, bashfulness sinking back when you have to brush the crumbs from the corners of your mouth. Good etiquette finds you wanting here, sitting at the breakfast table in your thin shift with nipples pebbling in the cool air, crumbs all over your face.

John reaches across to drag his thumb just under your bottom lip, wiping up a drop of syrup. “Messy girl.”

The hammer comes down on the iron again, liquid metal poured back into the crucible. Swallow with a dry mouth. You just have to wait him out.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain price #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #price/reader #captain john price

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junicult · 11 months

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!! the bachelors when they’re horny

contains ; much suggestive content. fem!farmer. established relationships (marriage). reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail. nsfw, no actual smut. sorta proofread.

note ; here’s another apology for disappearing :,,

harvey.

- the love of my life.

- he’s more of a romantic.

- so he tends to take a sweeter, gentler route into hinting at him being in the mood.

- it’s not a hard task, either.

- this man is so in love with you. when he’s in love, it can just be the sight of you to turn him on.

- some of the easiest, i’d say is anything that reminds him he’s married to you.

- like yeah, of course he knows that, but it always makes his day when he reminds himself of it.

- such as coming home to you, making dinner for you or when you make dinner for him.

- sitting in ur home together, eating and talking about your day. just reminds him of the fact that he gets to do this with you, and no one else does.

- since he knows how busy you are, he absolutely loves being a househusband. spoiling you by doing all the household chores while you work your ass off outside.

- and he genuinely enjoys doing that,

- but on the rarer occasion when you take most of the day off, and he’s out at work—that’s what really gets him.

- the smallest gesture of picking up his empty plate and washing the dishes.

- when you constantly say, “honey, i’ve got it,” as he tries to help…it does something to him.

- it’s a small act of love that shows him you care so much about him without saying it.

- now, maybe it wasn’t your intention to turn him on. i mean, it’s quite literally a regular, basic gesture—

- but here he is. throat aching, palms starting to sweat and his growing hard-on straining in his pants.

- all because you showed basic human decency.

- lol.

- also because it’s the love of his life doing it for him, but still. he can’t help it. he’s just so infatuated with you.

- as for getting the hint across to you? ofc he’s not gonna fucking say it.

- he overthinks everything. and the last thing he’d want is for you to feel obligated just because he wants to.

- but there’s an obvious tell when it comes to harvey, and it’s not just the fact that his cheeks get all red.

- it’s the way he starts to fumble over his sentences, mumbling and stuttering his words.

- he’s not very smooth i fear.

- but that’s what we love about him🫶

- it doesn’t take long to realize you’ve got him tense. feel free to tease him a bit.

- the minute you show you’re on the same page, however, he gets a pick up in his confidence.

- whenever he’s turned on like this, it’s always the best for you.

- his beautiful wife does something sweet for him? then you better believe he’s going to be even sweeter to you.

sam.

- i’ve said this before,

- but it’s not hard to get him in the mood.

- show him even the tiniest sign that you’re horny, and he is too.

- what can i say, he’s a simple man.

- now, don’t mistaken that as anybody that comes along, shows a little affection can turn him on. bc that’s not true. at all.

- in fact, he’s incredibly oblivious to that kinda stuff. if he gets hit on, he’ll just take it as a compliment.

- it’s you that turns him on. it’s your affection. it’s the fact that you want him.

- bc he’s just that in love with you, he gets all excited when he’s in those situations with you.

- SO!!

- he gets so cute when he’s needy.

- he’s always down hug and hold you, trust me. his love language is for sure physical touch.

- even just in general, he has to be holding your hand while you’re standing together, he’s latched onto you when you’re laying together. he’ll even hold onto you as you’re cooking dinner. he loves touching you.

- and when he’s horny it’s no different.

- it’s so random, but one of his major turn ons is watching tie your hair out of your face.

- super casually, too. can be mid-conversation, or he just catches a glimpse of you doing it across the room.

- “your mom wants a me to bring a largemouth bass for dinner tonight, can you feed the chickens please?” your explain as you secure your ponytail with a hairtie.

- he’s all sorts of distracted, obviously listening to your request but he can’t help but focus on the action.

- “yeah, for sure—totally,” he nods, and the minute u walk out the door he has to let out a large huff of breath.

- another thing that vvvv much turns him on is when u walk fresh out of the shower with only a towel on.

- like, i’m talking u can still see the droplets of water on your shoulders, and your hair is soaking to the touch.

- he’s a simple man i said.

- and what’s funny is, he always showers with you.

- so seeing you like that will happen 9/10 times after u shower.

- he looks pretty much identical to you, too. same sopping wet hair and towel around his waist.

- he’s cute with it though. like, ofc he stares at you, but he’s got the cutest smile & obvious flush across his cheeks.

- mumbles a soft, “you just look really pretty,” after you ask about it.

- …idk abt u but he’s getting it after that.

shane.

- there’s no hiding it.

- he’ll straight up tell you.

- honestly, i feel like every time he’s with you or he sees you, he’s always at least a little turned on.

- within reason of course.

- i mean, how can he not be?

- it’s just like, when you’re that in love, he’ll find you beautiful no matter what. and if you’re literally covered in dirt or soot from the mines head to toe, if you tell him ur horny he is not complaining 💀

- simply put, he’s always down.

- he’s very respectful, however. he knows if the time isn’t right.

- but anyways, when he’s rly horny, it’s not hard to figure it out.

- he makes so much more eye contact, and becomes like the most intense listener.

- i don’t want it to sound like he isn’t already a good listener, he’s not an asshole (for the most part <3)

- it’s not like he’s doing the bare minimum just to get in your pants. he becomes such an intent listener because he’s turned on from the way you talk.

- like he’s enchanted. he could listen to you forever. he genuinely wants you to continue.

- when ur lying in bed together before going to bed, casually recapping your day and he can’t help but think about how pretty you look while u innocently put lotion on.

- and then his thoughts wander. and then he’s thinking the other pretty sounds your voice makes.

- and once you finish, you ask a sweet, “so how was your day, handsome?”

- he’s all, “pretty boring. missed you a ton.”

- you’re too deep in your relationship to know his compliment is also a pickup line, and that his thumb rubbing your thigh isn’t him just showing affection.

- it’s only a matter of time before he’s looking over at you with the smallest smirk and glazed eyes.

- “you feeling okay? still got some energy left?”

- not subtle indeed.

sebastian.

- in the beginning of ur relationship, he was turned on by many things you did, but he’d wait until he had an actual excuse.

- let me explain,

- when you were getting ready for bed, and he was spending the night, he’d watch you delicately take off your jewelry and carefully put them away—instant turn on.

- but it wasn’t until u joined him in bed, gave him a couple kisses on the cheek, & hinted that u were in the mood yourself when he’d fold.

- like he’d wait until he had an “excuse” for some reason.

- as for now, when ur relationship is very committed and ur living under the same roof, he stopped overthinking as much.

- instead of watching your dainty fingers unclasp each necklace, it was his to help you.

- then a gentle press of his soft lips to the center of your neck, & all he had to do was listen to your soft laugh, before you turned around and kissed him deeper.

- when he’s horny, that’s absolutely what he does. it saves him from outright saying it, and from making you feel bad if you aren’t. a win win.

- for sebastian to blatantly tell you he wants to have sex right now—he’s gotta be DEPRIVED.

- even though he’s comfortable with you, and no matter how long he’s been with you, he’s just not that kind of person to outright ask.

- plus, he likes when you come onto him. it’s an ego booster.

- he just loves u in general, and the fact that he knows u love him.

- now just bc i stated he doesn’t like to ask, doesn’t mean he never will.

- it’s rare, but he’s been with you for years. he’s bound to suggest it at least once.

- and if that were the case, he’ll still be shy about it.

- he’s been thinking about you all day, even clingy enough to bring himself out to help you with work.

- he’s sorta like ur shadow the entire day, and for a guy that deeply appreciates his alone time, it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

- “what’s up, sebby? you’ve been really clingy today.” you giggle, leaning into his touch that wraps around your waist.

- you’ll get nothing but a hum and a shrug for now.

- and by the time your chores are wrapped up, the sun is long since set, and you’re all cleaned and full from dinner—is when you finally pry it out of him.

- “you’re just usually not like this,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair after kissing his cheek.

- “can i not show my wife affection?” he dryly jokes back, causing you to roll your eyes.

- “okay, i don’t need the attitude. of course you can.” you tease, smiling when he wraps his arms a little tighter around you and pulls you in for a kiss.

- “you just look extra beautiful today, and i wanna do something about it.” he all but shrugs, his voice low and quiet between his lips pressing against yours.

- “like what?”

- “why don’t you let me show you?”

alex.

- pfft.

- he’ll tell you.

- he’ll actually make it known to whoever’s near. he has zero shame.

- he always gets rly horny whenever ur out in public together, like at dinner w friends, or at town gatherings.

- it’s definitely because he gets to see you all dressed up, spritzed with perfume and makeup done.

- trust me, the sight of you in your loungewear still makes him a horny. a different kind of horny, tho. i’ll get to that in a minute.

- but there’s something so satisfying abt showing up to an event with a fucking goddess by his side. you’re dressed to the nines and you’ve got his hand in yours.

- it’s like a silent bragging right that you fell in love with him, not anyone else.

- he’s a little possessive in that sense.

- when you guys haven’t seen each other in a couple hours, he’ll always come find you after a bit to check in.

- it’s so cute cus ur a little buzzed, and so is he.

- he’ll easily slot himself by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you close.

- just from the way your face immediately lights up, and a warm smile pulls at the corner of your cheeks is enough to turn him on.

- leans down to whisper in your ear, “when are you ready to head out? been dying to get this off of you,” while subtly tugging on the fabric hugging your hips.

- yeah, you’ll leave right after that😇

- and as for when he sees you in your loungewear,

- he tends to be a bit more loving.

- there’s definitely a side of him that only you bring out. he’s lowkey one of those guys that becomes such a softie when he’s alone with you.

- likes to hold u, or even be held if i may be so bold.

- so when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, mumbling abt how much he loves you and such, it tends to lead into a session or two.

elliott.

- he’s just beyond enamored by you and everything you do.

- he’s similar to shane in the sense that, no matter what he’ll always find you beautiful, and sexy.

- he’s the kind of guy who gets his own satisfaction by giving you what you want. so if ur horny, and you wanna have sex, well so is he.

- but for elliott, it’s different.

- it’s not so much as being horny and looking to just fuck,

- it’s him being in love with you, and wanting to make love to you, y’know?

- so when he’s horny, it’s usually when he gets his alone time with you.

- after you’ve finished work for the day, already showered, & he’s decided to wrap up his own work, is when you two can finally relax together.

- “you were out there for a while. busy day?” he asks curiously, silently patting his knee for you to prop your foot up.

- “ah, yeah, y’know, most of my crops needed to be harvested today and i had to run to pierre’s to plant some more.” you sigh, leaning back and indulging in his affection.

- it’s gonna sound a little weird, i know, but i feel like he silently loves when you’re a little sore.

- no, not because you’re in pain, but because he just loves the excuse to soothe you.

- he loves rubbing your shoulders and back, rubbing your feet when you’re tired while you tell him about your day.

- it’s usually then when he becomes infatuated, and all he wants to do is hold you and kiss you all over.

- so after some back and forth, talking about whatever news came up over the few hours you’ve been apart, is when he’s the most in love.

- there’s never really a verbal agreement, you two usually just feel it at the same time, which is when you lean in and it gets a bit heated.

- he can’t possibly pick one single thing you do that makes him hornier then another. it’s everything you do.

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suiana · 2 months

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Yay!

(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)

You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.

He's not what he looks to be.

Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.

You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.

His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.

You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.

But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.

Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.

Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.

You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.

"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"

You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?

"Hey! Are you not listening?"

You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.

"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."

"Hm..."

He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...

"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"

He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?

"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."

He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?

"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."

He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!

"W-what are you-"

"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."

He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?

You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.

"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."

He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!

"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"

He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.

But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.

And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.

He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.

"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"

Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.

Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.

Damn it, this was really the worst.

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere sweetheart #yandere sweetheart x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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another-lost-mc · 9 months

Note

Can you imagine the om! cast flirting with mc and thinking they're mc's only romantic interest when mc already has a booty call at RAD? There are no feelings involved, just intimacy, but still. I think the cast is too arrogant to ever think mc could be interested in anyone else.

(English is not my native language, so please excuse any possible mistakes)

a/n: that’s fair! I mean, mc has needs too, right? maybe trying to hook up with one of the avatars is daunting, but a hot lower-ranking demon lord who promises a good time every once in a while? that could be fun.

➤ when they find out you have a fwb | the demon brothers

0.9k words | nsfw | suggestive | gn!reader

c/w: jealousy and implied dark themes/sketchy behaviour squints at beel and belphie

read more: the dateables | when solomon is your fwb

Lucifer finds it hard to believe at first. Once he knows the demon’s name, he watches you two interact more closely. He picks up on the shared glances and flirtatious touches he somehow missed before. He’s been stewing in his own desires and feelings for you all this time because he wasn’t sure the best way to declare his intentions. He thought subtlety and patience would be best, but perhaps he can admit just this once that he was mistaken. Learning about your dalliances with someone else finally gives him the push to show you what a real demon lover can offer you. Once you have the Avatar of Pride to warm your bed, you'll be satisfied with no one else but him.

Mammon is one part incredulous, one part jealous, and just a teensy bit turned on. He can’t stop staring at the blurry photo Asmo managed to take of you sneaking out of a utility closet at RAD. His cock twitches when he takes in the image of your rumpled clothes and the way your forehead glistens from a light sheen of sweat. He wants to make you look like that, not some random nobody that doesn't deserve you. His mind races when he imagines his own fingers tugging your clothes aside for better access to your naked body. What did you sound like when you tried to muffle your moans so no one would hear you? Mammon would give anything to take that demon’s place. Y’know, both of you have a spare period after lunch—would you follow him into one of the dark corners of RAD for a little fun if he offered? Maybe it’s time for him to find out.

Levi is seething. Mostly he’s angry and jealous and he wants to tear the building to pieces. He’s also ashamed because the fantasy of you dragging him into an empty room at RAD for a midday fuck is hot as hell. He doesn’t think he deserves you, but he knows that the demon you’re fucking doesn’t either. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s burning with curiosity about your little affair, but he’s incensed by the idea that he might not be good enough for you. Envy can make him a little desperate. He's tempted to beg you for even a morsel of your love and affection. If he's pathetic enough, maybe you'll even take pity on him and oblige.

Satan is furious because he should’ve realized something was going on. The signs are all there and he missed them somehow. It takes all his willpower not to hunt down your little demon friend for daring to touch you that way. Satan is well-versed in human world literature—maybe declaring his intentions with a romantic gesture would convince you to give him a chance instead? Or maybe sweet and romantic love isn’t what you crave. If fast and rough is more to your tastes, all you need to do is mention your friend’s name—you’ll be too fucked out of your mind to remember it by the time he’s finished with you.

Asmo’s reactions are all over the place: he’s giddy that you’re so daring (fucking at RAD of all places!); he’s devastated that you turned to someone else instead of coming to him; and he’s frustrated that he didn’t realize sooner this was even happening. He pays more attention after he catches you the first time, and it seems so obvious when the current of lust between you and your friend flickers with interest throughout the school day. He finds reasons to keep you two from sneaking off together and pretends he’s not jealous every time he interferes. Perhaps when you’re frustrated enough, he can finally entice you to join him for a little pampering session in his room. You seem so frustrated today! But don’t worry—he knows exactly what you need to loosen up.

Beel is one of the few demons that understands what hunger and starvation feels like. Sometimes you need to do whatever it takes to satisfy those cravings, even on a temporary basis. You’re important to him, and he cherishes your friendship. He’s hidden his true desires from you because he doesn’t want to risk losing control if he’s too hasty, too rough, or too demanding before you're ready to embrace being with someone like him. His love is all-consuming and you're a constant strain on his self-control. If you weren’t turning to someone else for affection, maybe he could be patient and satisfy his urges for you elsewhere. Now that he knows someone else has had a taste of you, he wants you even more. When he finally confesses his desire to be with you, he hopes for both your sakes that you feel the same.

Belphie lashes out with barbed insults and backhanded compliments to hide his own hurt and jealousy. You’re not that bad looking for a human, I guess it was only a matter of time before someone wanted to fuck you. Once he learns the truth about that demon you’ve been fooling around with, he’s suddenly glued to your hip like he can’t stand to be parted from you. He’s selfish with your time and clings to you in his bed during naps. He sneaks his way into your dreams because he wants to make sure you’re not dreaming of anyone else. He might even have a private chat with your little friend, but he doesn’t tell you since it’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s a shame that your fuck buddy suddenly decides to call things off between you after that. At least you still have Belphie to comfort you and wipe away your tears. He appreciates you, even if that random asshole doesn’t—the only demon you ever needed has been here for you all along.

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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muchosbesitos · 3 months

Text

easiest thing

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman reader

contents: reader who thinks they’re hard to love and miguel who loves them so easily, mentions of death at the beginning, reader goes to therapy, somewhat angsty and fluffy?

author’s note: pls don’t take the characterization for ‘you’ srsly, this was purely self indulgence 🫡

word count: 4.3k

"Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

You'd given up on romance despite that you still had the lingering desire of wanting someone's eyes to sparkle everytime they looked at you and of wanting someone that just understood you in a way that nobody else had access to. You were a hopeless romantic with a shitty life in general, to say the least. If it wasn't the fact that you ended up getting ghosted time and time again or the fact that every talking stage you had ended up flopping like a fish out of water, it was the only best friend that you'd had dying. A part of you shut off the day you were forced to kneel down next to your Peter Parker, every sliver of hope in you fading away at the same rate that the life faded away from his eyes.

You knew that you weren't responsible for Peter's passing, but a part of you wished you could've done more than just watch the life from his body fade within your very eyes. You'd felt like the strongest person in the world up to that moment, being able to lift vehicles and pieces of rubble with ease, but in the moment, you were just as vulnerable as anybody else. You wished that you could've taken note of the strange behavior he elicited beforehand, that you weren't so caught up in your own issues to take note of what burdens he was struggling with. But now, all you could do was just linger on what you could've done, should've done, and what you wished you'd done differently.

You forced yourself to try to go through the motions of living without Peter, every task seeming more and more difficult with each day that passed by. Showering seemed like a tedious task, the almost borderline sting of the boiling water doing nothing to distract you from the pain that lingered in your heart. You'd even considered giving up the mantle of being Spider-Woman, the red and blue spandex suit collecting dust in the back of your wardrobe. Not even a year had passed by when you'd lost your Uncle Ben, the words from his dying lips ringing through your head. "With great power comes great responsibility," you murmured quietly to yourself, deciding to put on the suit after you'd failed to show up for New York time and time again these last few months.

You'd thought that coming back would be like riding a bike, that you wouldn't forget it no matter how much you willed yourself to try. But clearly, you'd been mistaken seeing as how you were currently dangling off the edge of the Empire State Building. You'd shot a web to cling onto the side of a building, finding yourself coming up short as nothing came out of your wrists. "Come on," you murmured to yourself, trying to stick your fingers in different positions to get the web to come out. It was almost like your body was giving you the consequences of neglecting it for far too long, refusing to work with you when you needed it the most. The grip that you had on the building loosened, the stickiness from your fingers no longer there as you dropped to the floor.

You frantically stuck your hand out to try to stick a web as you rapidly began your descent, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You weren't sure if it was the humidity in the air or the sheer nervousness that was coaxing your body at the moment. Most likely the latter, but you didn't have time to think too hard about it as you willed for just one measly web to come out before you face planted onto the pavement. Your body was running strictly out of fear now as you got dangerously close to the floor now, your mind starting to accept the situation for what it was. While you'd completely given up on trying more than surviving after Peter had died, all you knew now is that you didn't want to die. You really didn't.

A shaky breath of relief escaped from your lips when you stuck to a building near you, the web that you'd been hoping for so badly coming into fruition. You looked down at the floor, silently thanking the web sticking to the side of the building after realizing just how close you'd gotten to actually hitting the floor. After that near-death experience, you'd decided to get back into training your body before you went out to patrolling the city like you used to. Forcing yourself out of bed was less difficult as the days passed, finding a purpose to get yourself out of your house everyday. Your body wasn't the fighting machine that it used to be but you were willing to work to get just a sliver of what you used to have.

It wasn't long until the citizens of new york city started noticing that Spider-Woman was back, met with some disapproval but overall, everyone just seemed thrilled over the comeback. The city had been buried in a cesspool of chaos and robberies after you'd left. A few of the small fry were smart enough to drop their sketchy business before they got caught, an instant relief felt in the small businesses throughout the city. You couldn't help but feel suspicious as even the villains that found joy in threatening the city had gone under wraps, your mind running through all the possibilities of what they could possibly be planning. Your feet swung off the building you were monitoring from, your eyes shifting to every little noise elicited below you.

Your feet sprung up to action faster than you'd expected when you heard the sound of rubble crumbling underneath you, the sound of screaming ringing through your ears as you swung throughout the different buildings. You went to the scene of the danger, a distinction from the people that were fleeing from the scene while screaming at the top of the lungs. You approached the scene, watching as Rhino destroyed every building that he had access to. a malicious smile on his face as he controlled the metal suit, taking pleasure in the way that the city panicked under his control. You weren't one to make any ceremonious entrances, simply swinging into action as you wrapped a web from underneath him to tie his feet together.

You'd taken a couple hits from the fight, your body still not used to the strain of these fights after only week of training. Despite the fact that every muscle in your body was begging for you to stop, to give into the exhaustion, you refused to give up just yet. "Just a little longer," you mentally assured yourself, the muscles in your legs starting to burn as you ran over to the Rhino. You wanted to separate him from any of the citizens that might've stayed to watch the fight, unable to take even just one casualty tonight. You rendered the suit useless after tying it up to the wall, punching through the thick glass of what seemed to resemble the eyes. You pulled out what seemed to be a cheap copy of the original out of the suit, your eyes widening at the realization that this was all a decoy.

Miguel was watching your fight intently through the monitor, watching your movements as you tied the villain down. It was everything that he would've done in your situation, every movement graceful as you kept the villain away from any civilians. "Thinking about her as a new recruit?" LYLA asked from beside him, popping up into view as she took in the sight of your reflexes. "She'd be a nice addition," Miguel uttered quietly, entranced by the way that your body moved under the spandex. He'd been overlooking your universe for quite some time, finding a couple things that elicited some red flags in the system during your absence. He found it impressive the way that you'd managed to put your pain to the side for the greater good of New York City, willing to come back and fight despite the fact that you had no one to be personally fighting for.

Blood leaked from the side of your mouth as you received a blow from the actual Rhino, half your ribs bruised from the sheer impact of his metal fists pounding into your body. His suit was nearly indestructible, you were unable to take him down but you were able to tie him. Almost as if sensing your plan to restrain him, he avoided every single one of the webs that you'd struck out at him and landing a couple hits in the process. You were reeling on the floor, clutching your stomach as the man mocked your position on the floor. Every little comment escaping from his mouth serving to belittle your position as Spider-Woman, of doubting your ability to protect the people of New York City. You hated the effect that his words had on you, every single little utter only serving to deepen the insecurities that you already felt about yourself.

Your eyes widen a bit as you noticed the man in front of you glitch, making it all too evident that this wasn't your Rhino. You had noticed that it was taking you a bit longer to get past his defenses. You were thinking of giving up, giving into the pain and exhaustion coursing through your body when you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up like a soldier on command. An orange portal appeared by the side, the swirling waves almost distracting you from the task at hand. You'd managed to briskly avoid a punch thrown by the robot, your legs barely sustaining you as you stood up. You expected for the portal to show some of the goons that the Rhino called for assistance, but you were instead met with people that were all too similar to you. They all wore the spider emblem on their suit, their movements synced to precision as they fought against the villain.

You'd joined the fight to the best of your ability, helping them tie down the villain until one of the members captured the man in a trap. You were approached by a rather tall man just as you were getting ready to leave, his figure imposing over yours as he looked down at you. The mask on his face disappeared with one tap of the watch he had on, his gaze showing no emotion in it as he looked over at you. "I want to formally invite you to the Spider Society. It's where spider-people from different universes come and gather to fight against anomalies, I'd recommend for you to give it a thought," he spoke up, his hand extending a watch similar to the one he had on over to you. "This should teleport you to the building whenever you're ready."

You looked down at the watch as you realized it was nearly a week since it'd been given to you, the decision still not clear to you despite how long you'd looked at it. While there was nothing here for you in this universe, no prospect of friendship, family, or romance, a part of you didn't want to leave out of how comfortable you were at the moment. You'd gotten used to the cycle of the crime rates in New York, of fighting small time criminals and the occasional villain that tormented the city. You thought to yourself about what Peter would do, trying to convince yourself that he would be assuring your decision to stay stuck in this spot. With every attempt that you tried to rationalize your decision, you were only met with more reasons as to why you should go. Your finger pressed the button on the gizmo hesitantly, looking at the portal appearing inside of your apartment.

You were awestruck as you walked into the Spider Society, overwhelmed by just how many different universes you'd been so blissfully unaware of. There was a Spider-Cat, Spider-Dino, and even a car version of Spider-Man, interacting like it was normal. The building itself was also impressive, a modern design to match those of the buildings outside of it. You'd thought of flying cars as a figment of your imagination but here they were, a common sight as they moved through the sky. "You're the new recruit, right?" A small orange holographic woman appeared in front of you, waiting for your confirmation before she led you inside. "Grab one of the bracelets on that table over there before you start to glitch out."

Before you got the chance to ask what she meant by 'glitch out,' you felt like your body was struggling to even mobilize. The atoms inside you seemed to be defying the building you were in, some of them morphing you into a different shape before it stopped. You quickly pulled the bracelet onto your wrist, following the holograph into the room that she led you in. "He'll be down from his platform in a second. That thing usually takes a while to load," she informed you, fading away just as soon as she'd arrived. You looked up at the platform as it started to lower, every second of waiting only making you feel more nervous about the situation. It was the same man that had given you the watch beforehand, the leader of this whole organization if you had to assume.

Miguel took one look at your expression, your eyes holding so much pain buried within them even if you were trying your best to plaster a smile on your face. Even that seemed to be crumbling under his very eyes, though, your smile not quite meeting your eyes as it wavered with every second that he spent looking at you. He knew the pain that came with being Spider-Man, knew of all the sacrifices that the people in his society faced once they took on the role. He'd seen this story play out multiple times, whether it be with Ben, Gwen, or with Peter. But for some reason, unknown even to himself, he couldn't handle seeing you so upset. "Welcome to the Spider Society, I'm Miguel O’Hara. Allow me to show you around."

Miguel took you along through the different areas in the society, taking in your reactions of everything that it offered. You couldn't help but notice that every member that the two of you passed seemed to look at him with awe, immediately scrambling to find something to do. "If you ever want or need someone to talk to, we have a licensed therapist on the first floor. Everything's confidential so you don't have to worry about anything getting out," he spoke up once he was finished with the tour of the facility, his red eyes meeting yours for the first time this evening. The orange hue in the background only accentuated how beautiful they truly were, the intensity that his gaze held.

Maybe it was the fact that he didn't want you to turn out like had, so consumed in your own pain that you'd become a shell of the person of who you used to be. A way for him to prevent yourself from delving in too far in your pain, the way he had when he neglected to speak his native tongue because it just reminded him time and time again of how his mamá had failed to show up for him. You weren't a bunch of sunshine and rainbows from what he could tell from the few clips that he'd seen from you in your element, but even he could tell that you were hiding the pain you felt. He wanted to be the helping hand he wished he could've had when he was struggling with Gabriella’s loss, the helping hand he wished he could’ve just had in general.

“I don't really need therapy but thank you," you assured him, thanking him once more for welcoming you as a member before making your way out of the room. While subconsciously you could feel that there was something wrong with the way that you were perceiving the world and reacting to the things happening in your life, you didn't want to feel like too much of a burden. You didn't want to take that help away from the people that could need it, despite the fact that you could tell within yourself you were slowly starting to wear down from the events happening in your life. Before you could go to get help, you had to acknowledge that deep within, you truly did need someone's help during this period of your life. But for now, you would just keep your head down and prove your worth in the society.

You'd made your way into therapy after you decided that maybe it wasn't as bad as you imagined, that admitting to yourself that you needed help hadn't been the end of the world. You'd managed to work out through your feelings of grief about losing peter and Uncle Ben, learning that it was okay to miss them just as long as you didn't let your life stop from the grief that you felt. Despite the fact that you'd made some progress with that aspect of your life, you refused to touch any topic that covered the progress of your romantic life. Maybe because you knew that it would delve into further issues, knowing that it would make you think about why you felt unwanted. You weren't ready to deal with those issues just yet, unsure if you would ever be ready to divulge.

You were slowly starting to come around to being the version of yourself that you used to be, of getting back into doing the things that you once enjoyed doing. You'd picked up a couple books from the library at the society, spending some of the time that wasn't training or going out on missions reading about silly romance novels. If it wasn't that, you'd found different activities that you found yourself enjoying. You realized that you wouldn't have tried them out if it weren't for the state of your life right now, having lived in a state of doing whatever was comfortable between Peter and you. You were finding things that belonged solely to you, finding memories that weren't involved with missing anybody.

Miguel wasn't too obvious with the way that he presented his feelings towards you, but if you'd looked a little closer, you would've noticed the little details. How the grumpy boss who avoided making meaningless conversation with everyone else seemed to present an interest in everything that you had to say, asking you questions of how you were adjusting to the Spider Society and asking questions about things that you showed an interest in. He knew that you were still coping with your problems so he didn't want to push you too far, didn't want to push you too far away from him. He was happy to keep talking to you in a platonic matter, just getting to hear that little rise in your pitch whenever you were excited filling him up with a sense of peace and tranquility.

"LYLA, can you log into her amazon account for me?" He spoke up to her, unable to decide what to get you for your birthday. He'd had months to plan out what he wanted to gift you, but every gift seemed to be dwindled in quality when he compared it to the type of person that you were. You were worth more than the complimentary pair of socks he was so accustomed to gifting the members of the society whenever they had a birthday. LYLA’s confusion was evident across her features but she complied with his request, hacking through your account to pull up your cart. While you had some necessities on there, you also had a list of the books that you were planning on getting in the near future. Perfect.

To say that it was the easiest purchase he's made in his life was a bit of an understatement, he was waiting anxiously to see the excitement on your face once you opened his gift. You'd even joked that he seemed more excited about the gift opening than you were. He watched as you opened up the gift carefully, trying not to rip apart the wrapping paper that he'd chosen for you. Your eyes practically sparked up with excitement at opening up the box, finding the catalog of books you were putting to the side until you were able to buy them. You were rendered speechless for a bit, your eyes shifting from the books over to Miguel who was standing to the side, gauging for every one of your little reactions.

"Thank you!" You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him as you enveloped him into a hug. The action was foreign to him, something he hadn't bothered to practice in a while. but every thought of that went out the window as his arms came to your back, rubbing small circles as he looked down at you. "I hope this means you liked your present," he spoke just loud enough for you to hear, an intimate scene set between the two of you despite the fact there was a crowd of people partying around. "I love it, thank you so much," you told him, the tightness of your embrace speaking for all the words you couldn't get out of your mouth at the moment. He let you cling onto him as long as you needed, unwilling to deny you anything.

Miguel wasn't planning on acting on his feelings, but eventually decided that it would be better to get a rejection straight up than stay wondering 'what if?' He ran different scenarios of how it would go, some of them resulting in the two of you going out on a date while some of them resulted in you ignoring him throughout your duration at the Spider Society. He tried hard not to focus on those thoughts too much, letting himself have a false sense of positivity despite the fact that you hadn't reciprocated his feelings at all. He ran different approach methods in his mind, trying to figure out what he could possibly say to you but every thought in his head seemed to be rendered useless just by taking a good glimpse at you in your natural state. Curled up on the couch with a book in your hand, the faint glow from the sun shining through the window illuminating your features.

"Hey, do you mind if I talk to you?" He came up by your side as you were reading one of the books he'd gotten for your birthday, a small smile appearing on your face as you looked over at him. "Yeah, for sure. What's up?" You asked him, scooting over on the couch to give him space to sit down. He sat down next to you, almost seeming nervous in front of you as he twiddled with his thumbs. It was a sight to behold, the man usually in command of every room he walked into nervous at the prospect of getting rejected. "I wanted to ask you out on a date. If you don't want to, I completely understand. I just hope it won't ruin what you've built here at the Spider Society," he finally spoke up after what seemed to be a couple minutes of silence, his eyes hesitant to look into yours as he waited for you to process the information.

You'd been oblivious to these signs for months, unable to even fathom that someone would see you in that way. You were so convinced that you weren't someone that people saw as date-worthy, that you were only a placeholder until they were able to find someone better. You blinked slowly as you tried to let his words sink in, the look on your face vulnerable as you looked up at him. "You're not joking right?" You tried to confirm, hoping that you weren't being used as the butt of a joke this time around. You'd started to grow comfortable around Miguel, enjoying being around his company and even envisioning him whenever you had your nose buried in a book. "No I’m not joking," his voice was gentle as he assured you, his hand holding yours as he rubbed circles on the back of yours.

"Then yes. I'd like to go out on a date with you," you finally accepted his invitation after no recording crew had come out to expose themselves.The two of you spent a couple seconds in silence before he spoke up again. "Pudiera escribirte un libro como esos que tanto te gustan nomas hablando de cuanto tu presencia me alumbra la vida y aun no seria suficiente para describir el amor que siento por ti, preciosa. You make me forget every word in my repertoire just by looking into your eyes," he murmured, his Spanish coming out nearly perfect despite the fact he hadn't bothered to speak it aloud in a couple years now. "Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

(I could write you a book like those you really like, just talking about how much your presence illuminates my life and it still wouldn't enough to describe the love I feel for you, precious)

Despite reading and re-reading all the romance books stacked up on your shelf at home, you'd never actually imagined that you'd be the one in the main character's position now. You lived vicariously through those books, all the romantic moments that you longed for merely described as words on paper. You remembered picking out books with the male's pov just to get that glimpse of what adoration sounded on both sides, of getting a picture of what you wanted someone to think about when they saw you. You'd seen multiple people in your life getting into relationships, assuring you empty promises that you'd find the person for you when the time was right, and you’d dismissed it all as pure bullshit. But all that waiting seemed worth it at the thought of going out with Miguel.

You couldn't help but feel butterflies taking flight in your stomach at the realization that Miguel, one of the smartest people you've ever met who seemed to have a response for everything, was rendered speechless just by having you around. The feeling was almost overwhelming as you slowly started to let your guard down around him, letting him love you the way he wanted to love you. You realized now that maybe you weren't as unlovable as you thought you were, that you weren't too broken to be the object of someone's love and admiration, just that you'd been seeking those things from the wrong people. All you wanted was to express the same love that he’d expressed towards you despite the lack of experience.

tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

Text

more than everything else

For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘proposal’ wc: 999 rated m cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍

“Steve! Freezer’s working again!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the floor behind their previously defunct freezer.

Eddie insisted he could fix it himself, hence the hours he’d spent on the floor with tools that weren’t doing anything and a lip bitten until it bled.

“Told you if you took your shirt off it would work faster,” Steve said from the doorway, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Eddie being half naked.

Sweat dripping down his chest.

A bruise forming on his side where he’d dropped a wrench on himself earlier.

His newest tattoo peeling because he’d forgotten to put Vaseline on it earlier.

“I always listen to you, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked as he stood up. “You got any plans later?”

“I actually do remember something on the calendar.”

Eddie walked over to him, covered Steve’s hands with his own and rocked him side to side. “Damn.”

“Why? You wanna make plans?” Steve raised a brow.

“I thought I could get a reward for all my hard work today,” Eddie pouted his bottom lip out, eyes widening as he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Maybe in the bedroom?”

“Reward? For fixing the freezer that you broke?”

“I seem to remember someone saying that the freezer was just ‘old’ and that this ‘could’ve happened to anyone.’ Or am I mistaken?” Eddie let go of Steve’s hands but stayed close to him.

“I’m not sure who said that. I do remember someone saying that if you turned it down too far for too long, it would break, though. Maybe you can recall who said that?” Steve leaned in to peck his lips softly, teasing just a little with his fingers along the waistband of Eddie’s pants. “Seems like a smart guy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. At least the guy who broke it could fix it.”

“That’s right, baby.” Steve backed away. “Now. I’ve got baked chicken spaghetti in the oven for dinner and I made cookies earlier if you-“

“Marry me.”

Steve froze, his eyes widened.

Maybe Eddie could’ve been more eloquent, more romantic.

Shit, maybe he could do that still.

He reached for Steve’s hands, smiling softly at him as his eyes darted between Eddie’s, searching for him to say that it was a joke.

“I’m serious.” Eddie kissed his forehead before continuing. “You think I survived the hell of ‘86 to not end up with Steve Harrington? You think I’ve spent nearly every day of the last six years trying to be the best partner you could ask for, the kind you deserve? You make me wanna be more than everything else.”

“What-“

Eddie shushed him with a kiss. “When I was little, like barely old enough to ride a bike, my mom brought me to a flower shop. She said I had to pick a nice flower for my teacher so she knew I was a sweet kid. I picked a daffodil. She laughed and said ‘you know the love of my life always brought my a daffodil’ and when I asked why dad didn’t bring them to her anymore she said ‘he never did.’ And as I got older I realized what that meant. I never could ask her about it, but I eventually asked Wayne. He said-“ Eddie sniffed, biting his lip trying not to cry. “He said sometimes the love you get isn’t what makes you feel better than everything else, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel more than everything else. And I still didn’t quite get it, ya know? Made no damn sense to me when I was 13. Kinda thought Wayne was high.” Steve laughed, Eddie smiled. “But then I saw you in the cafeteria one day, and I saw the way you held the door open for some of the band kids even though Tommy was teasing you for it. And I saw how much you did for me at my worst, even before you had a reason to, before you knew it would be worth more. I see how you love, and how you keep loving, even when some people may not deserve it. I feel how much you are, how much more you can still be. And how much I wanna be more to be worthy of you. I don’t have much, you know I don’t, but you love me anyway. And you make me wanna be more.”

Steve’s tears were falling rapidly, a sob escaping at the end of Eddie’s words as he fell forward, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt instantly.

“You’re enough for me,” he finally managed to say against Eddie’s neck. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t want more. I just want you.”

“I know, sweet love. I know.” Eddie’s arms tightened around him. “You think you could marry me?”

“Eds. I would marry you every day if we could.” Steve sniffed as he pulled away. “We can’t really do it, though.”

“Maybe not. But we can wear rings, tell everyone. I can call you my husband around the people who love us.”

That was a hell of a thought.

Husbands.

“You’re sure you want that?”

“Of course I am. Who else is gonna fix your freezer when it breaks?”

“Maybe you could try not to break it in the first place.” Steve smacked his shoulder. He kissed him slowly, tongue brushing against his bottom lip but not looking for more. “But I guess it would be nice to have someone around all the time to fix the stuff he breaks.”

“Hey!”

“I love you.”

It was that simple.

“So. My reward?”

“My hand in marriage.” Steve turned away and looked over his shoulder. “And maybe my hand in other places. If you hurry up and shower.”

“I’ll be done in five. Be naked on the kitchen table-“

“Eddie, not-“

“The kitchen table!”

Steve rolled his eyes but threw his shirt to the floor and winked before making his way to the kitchen. “Five minutes!”

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #proposal

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saeist · 1 year

Note

itoshi brothers reaction to their little sister wearing a different jersey and supporting someone else 😭

anon ur mind… should i make this into a series 😭 100 milestone special

can you imagine the reaction of both brothers when they see you lounging around the house with a jersey that’s not from their respective teams?

sae never misses the chance to give you a jersey from his matches. he always makes sures to get two of the same jerseys no matter what. sae would never admit this though. when he gives you his jerseys, he just tells you it’s an old one but it’s a lie. he has his own sitting in his luggage, gym bag, you name it, it’s there. he personally got one for you cause you were his sister after all

rin on the other hand is the same but he only gives you hand me downs such as the blue lock one. if rin grows out of a jersey, you bet that said jersey will end up in your hands

so just imagine the look on their faces when you’re lounging at the couch, wearing a jersey from a team they’re not even in on.

sae is visibly pissed. you can tell by the way his eyes are more narrowed than usual and has his infamous bitch face on that he only makes when there were press around him.

rin is not as pissed like sae but he’s just wondering who owns that jersey. he only gets mad when he tries to connect the dots or something and ended up assuming isagi or someone from blue lock gave it to you behind his back (he already had a talk with his blue lock mates that they should not breathe, touch, or be even in the vicinity as you when you’re around or they’re gonna get “it” from him)

both brothers sit at each side of you and you can tell the atmosphere in the living room has shifted. i mean, it’s not like you’re used to it at this point but, what gives bros?

sae scans you from the bottom to the top with a face you can’t quite pinpoint. was he mad? was he disgusted? what’s he thinking? you can’t tell. you turn your head to rin for some help but he had the same face on.

was there something on your face?

“if you guys are just gonna be breathing heavily next to me and not say a word then i’m just gonna leave” you raise a brow at your two (idiotic) brothers. to which they only reply with them clicking their tongues and some grumbles under their breaths.

sae was the first one to break the ice

“who’s jersey is that?” sae frowns. like a deep frown. was this mf really THAT petty over a jersey?

you looked down at the shirt you were wearing and it was from bastard münchen.

“oh, it’s bastard münchen merch. this is kaiser’s jersey if i’m not mistaken” you explain, even turning around to show sae the number on your back. when you return back to your original position, sae looked like you just dropped the biggest bomb on him and he didn’t like it one bit. he instantly gets all over your face, basically interrogating you on why you would waste the hard earned money he gave you to buy another jersey that isn’t from real madrid (hc that he gives you allowance 😋)

“why the fuck would you even buy from bastard münchen? is real madrid’s merchandise not enough? is the quality shit? hold on, i’m gonna have to tell the managers about this. just why y/n. WHY”

sae almost goes into a complete mental breakdown. over you wearing some team’s merch instead of his own team, real madrid

“and it had to be kaiser’s number too”

“what’s so bad with kaiser?”

sae doesn’t answer directly but continues to bitch about kaiser and bastard münchen specifically. mumbling about something you can’t quite understand

you look at your other brother, rin. just to like check if you two were looking at the same thing, sae literally pacing around the living room with his arms crossed and his hands rolled up into a fists but all you see is rin concentrating really hard that was outright sweating and you can see prominent veins on the sides of his head

“that damn isagi…” you hear rin murmur beside you. oh hell nah, not rin too.

“rin-nii..?”

“have you been talking to isagi? how do you even know about bastard münchen? does this mean you’ve been talking to isagi behind my back? why didn’t you buy pxg’s instead?”

another set of questions (more like interrogation) comes rolling in.

at this point you are already feeling like you’re going insane with your brothers acting like it was the end of the world.

“guys.. i literally watch blue lock tv. of course i fucking know about bastard münchen!” you curse

both brothers stop their idiocy and both turn to you with stern faces, together they go,

“NO FUCKING CURSING”

#theyre so dumb… i love the itoshis #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock scenarios #bllk scenarios #rin imagines #sae imagines #sae itoshi imagines #rin itoshi imagines #itoshi brothers #ads’ 100 milestone #from: unknown sender #you have (1) new message!#oib lore

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ssplague · 2 months

Text

Benighted Beloved

Chapter One

Masterlist

(Read the PROLOGUE first)

Mature

Dragon King Bakugou x Moon Princess y/n

Warnings: A/B/O themes, soulmates, mating, sex, manipulation, power and control.

Oh how can one’s feelings

spin a tale so profound?

For only true love shall

Determine whether darkness

Or light shall abound?

The clouds of mist stemming from your shaky panting breaths resemble tendrils of smoke unfurling from the snout of a dragon. The vapors dissipate as they flow up towards the darkening sky. You had been running for at least an hour now, with no thought of stopping. Regardless of how much distance you’d put between yourself and the castle which you had escaped from, it would never be far enough. Sweat stung bleary e/c orbs as it slipped from your forehead down into them. The mud that you had carefully packed over the scent glands on each side of your neck was becoming itchy as it flaked off. It wasn’t just on your neck though; Each wrist had so much mud caked around them it almost resembled an earthy colored bangle. As well as the insides of your thighs, they were coated in it as well. Now that it was getting dark out you would have to be even more careful of getting tangled up in thorn bushes or slapped by jagged branches. The tiniest drop of blood would have him centered in on your location as soon as the breeze carried its scent to him.

All of these precautions were necessary when you were fleeing for your life. The gigantic disadvantage of just who was sure to begin pursuing you at any moment, already meant luck would be the only thing on your side.

Slivers of moon light forced their way between gaps in the tree tops.

He has to of returned by now.

Once that man steps a single foot inside the castle, your absence will be made instantly apparent. Not from the fretting of the structures hired occupants as they frantically searched for you, or threw themselves at the king’s feet pleading for mercy, shrieking apologies. None of that noise alerted King Bakugou of your disappearance, nothing so trivial.

It was the sudden feeling of emptiness that caused tightening in his chest, the return of that lonely longing in his soul.

Ignoring the idiots prostrating themselves before him, the beast of a man turned on his heel and exited the castle. Anger was coursing through his veins, white hot fury made his blood boil, sparks began emitting at random from clenched fists as he lost control of his thoughts. The hulking physique of the Dragon King was always imposing, but as his cloak billowed behind him in the night air, the man seemed to be growing larger. Anyone who had previously been out on the castle grounds was nowhere to be found, and good thing because even the bravest man’s heart would have given out as his eyes caught sight of the approaching ruler.

Katsuki Bakugou could easily be mistaken for the devil himself as he storms across the court yard. Muscle began swelling beneath the flesh of expanding limbs as they grew larger. The teeth that were clenched in a snarl elongated and sharpened, horns sprouted from the king’s skull to accompany the wild blonde hair atop his head. Smatterings of Glittering gold scales could be seen mixed into the majority of the inky black ones that made up his protective hyde. The now large ruby irises were iridescent as they shined with what resembled hellfire itself. Where the king had been standing, a dragon of monstrous proportions now stood. Leathery wings expanded outward as the beast threw back its head to release a bellowing roar. With that, it launched itself skyward and zoomed off into the night.

You were kneeling down at the bank of a small stream, gulping down handfuls of water as you tried to catch your breath. The soft rustling of bushes across the way had you frozen in fear, ready to spring up and start running again.

The head of a doe pokes out from a bush, you and the animal blink back at each other for a moment.

Your body sags in relief, deeming you not to be a threat, the doe and her fawn come to stand on the opposite bank. Both dipping their heads down to drink, you watch them with a small smile on your face as you begin to reapply mud atop your scent glands.

The fawn watches you with its head cocked to the side, curious as to what you were doing. All of the sudden both deer’s are on high alert and that was a good enough cue to you that it was time to get going. The three of you all bolt off in separate directions. Your legs were practically screaming in protest, feet were undoubtedly swollen inside your soaked slippers.

The one thing you were thankful for was the thick cloak you’d thrown on before making your daring escape.

You had never wanted this life to begin with, you’d merely been minding your business walking down the beach when you stumbled across him. Seeing such a beautiful man laying there with such grievous injuries, you were compelled to help him.

🏝️

One year prior

The people of this village had a shrine erected to the moon goddess Selene. Upon entering their midst, the island dwelling folk took one look at the crescent moon on your forehead and immediately welcomed you. Their crops were flourishing and nets were bursting with fish ever since you had taken residence within the shrine. It was far from easy to lug such a heavy man to your current home, but you inevitably succeeded. At first Katsuki was anything but grateful for your help. He scoffed at your efforts and cursed you out while doing your best at nursing him back to health. You took it in stride, never hesitating to clap back at the man with a gorgeous face and terrible attitude. As time went on you two had grown fond of each other, he knew you were the only one in this life for him.

Eventually the day came where he needed to return home, not once had he ever mentioned his title.

So when the young monarch confessed his feelings to you as he gripped your hands tightly, informing you that you were to be his future queen and he would soon return to bring you home, you were shocked. When he released his hold on you to step back and became a giant dragon, you screamed in terror, falling to the ground. Shrieking even louder as you attempted to scramble backwards when the beast leaned down to rub its snout against you.

I’ll be back for you soon, I promise.

You heard it clear as day inside of your head, lifting a shaky hand to caress the beasts sparkling scales.

The magnificent creature closed its eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of your touch. Then it was gone, leaving you standing there with misty eyes and a trembling lip. That was the first time you had experienced grief that stemmed from loneliness. All the while you remained silent. Watching the dragon flying on the horizon until you could no longer make out its shape.

“We wanted to tell you…but felt it wasn’t our place” the village priestess and wife of the chieftain says, coming to stand by your side.

“Tell me what? That he was royalty? Or a dragon?” You attempted to joke, failing to notice how grave the other woman’s expression was.

“To tell you that he is a monster, goddess born please you must flee from here, that man has caused rivers of blood to flow across these lands ever since he came of age”she pleads with you,“Katsuki Bakugou is more beast than he is man, his soul has been permanently darkened by all of the lives he’s taken and misery he’s sewn”.

“Please elder tell me more about this dragon king…I need to know what exactly I’m up against…”

A short time later you’re seated around a table of other women, a few men are leaned up against the walls of the chief’s home, including the man himself. Every person in attendance has told you the frightening stories of the dragon king’s cruelty, how he revels in the blood of his foes, commands a massive army made up of both beasts and men. You sit silently, soaking all of this information in, thinking back on the time you’d spent with Bakugou.

“I know what you must be thinking my dear, the man from our stories couldn’t be the one you’d helped…It’s only natural for a kind soul like yourself to want to see the good in others” a very old woman addressed you softly, reaching her gnarled hands across the table to gently grip your’s “Selene shines through you in every aspect of your life, you are a strong, smart, beautiful woman with an aura as pure as snow….A treasure that no mere mortal could ever create”.

The women at the table all chime in:

“Those reasons are surely few of the things that lead to the beast’s fascination and resulting infatuation with you…”

“A pure soul reaching out to one that’s grown so dark over time….”

“A beacon of light shining across a blackened ocean, a diamond hidden amongst coal”

Then the men speak:

“Dragons are self serving, stingy, beasts; Anything that shines beautifully they can’t help but be drawn too”

“They will obsessively seek out whatever it is that they desire, disregarding rationality and consequence”

“Once they get ahold of whatevet is they hide it away, if they can keep from destroying it beforehand that is, they may treat their hoard delicately, but how many of those treasures do you think were crushed under foot? Speared by talons?”

The villagers were right.

The man that you met was on deaths door, Bakugou was probably more vulnerable with you than anyone else had ever seen him. Anger is a result of fear, now the man’s crude language and sharp tongue made sense. Unfortunately, now that he was back to his beastly self, there was no telling what would happen between the two of you.

Or what would happen to you…

So you agreed to leave, accepting hugs and parting gifts from familiar faces, promising to return when it would be safe to do so. As you set sail on your one person raft, you admired the beauty of the moon shining down on you.Thankfully the mainland was only a day’s journey from here, and once you reached the shore you set off again. The best plan of action was to head west, but your journey towards the neighboring kingdom still took you through Bakugou’s territory.

Maybe I jumped to conclusions?

You couldn’t help but wonder as you rest atop a down tree within an unfamiliar forest. The village folk had no reason to mislead you, they were sad to see you go after all…

Still, the monster they described was nothing like the Man you had spent time with. How unfortunate would it be if all of this turned out to be a complete misunderstanding?

🔥

Seven moons later a red dragon soared over the vast ocean with ease, but the person atop its head was riddled with anxiety. Katsuki opted to have Kirishima fly him back to the island, that way the king could enjoy holding you close during the ride back.

Back home both people and creatures alike were all excited and joyfully anticipating the crowning of a new king, as well as a queen. After all this time thinking they wouldn’t ever have another one.

The current Queen Mitsuki was thrilled at the prospect of finally being a grandmother, she had just about forced her idiot son to at least reproduce with one of the now out of work concubines. Katsuki may hold the title of “Dragon King”, but he has yet to officially take the throne. It was traditional for the first in line to be mated before being granted the right to rule. The kingdoms oracle had foretold the young monarch’s eventual meeting with an ethereal beauty capable of soothing the savage beast residing inside of him, and the two of them would rule together over their prosperous kingdom for many decades to come. At least that is the official part of the prophecy the public was privy to…

“Land here Shitty hair, we don’t want to frighten her” Bakugou commands his companion, making an effort to mask the excitement in his gruff voice. Once the king dismounts, the crimson dragon begins to shrink and soon a red haired man of similar stature appears in its place. Both men walk through the now silent village, so focused on the task at hand they fail to notice the lack of activity or occupants. On the edge of the village a short forest path leads to the shrine where the king stayed with you. Kirishima stops short and allows Bakugou to walk up the short staircase alone.

“I’ve returned for you, just as I promised I would” Bakugou announces before sliding open the door. Instead of the beautiful woman he was expecting, the shrine was empty…a single insense burned beneath the painted moon.

No sign of the woman he loved.

Sensing the distress of his best friend, Kirishima comes to peek inside, seeing the empty space makes his heart ache for the man beside him.

“Maybe she’s out enjoying the sun? Why don’t we walk around a bit, I’m sure we’ll find her!” The red head

suggests, always the optimist.

The suggestion is met with silence, and now the absence of this island’s inhabitants dawns on both of them.

Unbeknownst to the dragon shifters above, the villagers had fled down into the island’s underground cave system.

It was the best shot they had at avoiding the vengeful Dragon King’s retaliation. Yes all of them were far beneath the surface where they planned to reside for some time to come. Well all of them with exception of one…

“Did you really believe she would wait for you after finding out all of the awful things you’ve done? After she learned the truth about you?” A voice calls out from behind the two shifters. They turn to see a man similar in age but his build was drastically smaller than each of there’s. He was the village chief’s eldest and most arrogant son, Shindo. The newcomer shows no respect to the royalty before him, his eyes are narrowed and he sneers at the king he hates so much.

“A monster has no right to claim one that is goddess born, your darkness will suffocate her light, the blood on your hands will sully her pure heart, im sure you know that though…but you don’t care do you, your majesty?” Shindo taunts.

“Where is she?”

Three words are all he gets in reply to his mockery of the king.

“Where is she?”

The question is repeated, gradually becoming more aggressive and louder than the time before.

“Somewhere you won’t be able to reach her” the dark haired man replies with a shrug, all he’d wanted to do was get under Bakugou’s skin and obviously he’d succeeded.

Just as Shindo turns his back on the Dragon king, does he feel something yanking him backwards. A shocked cry follows the agony of sharp talons stabbing into his shoulder.

“Tell me where she went and maybe I’ll be merciful and make your death quick, or I can peel your flesh off In tiny little strips, before I roast you alive on a stick like a pig”

So began an interrogation turned execution, the screams resulting from it had all of the birds on the island taking flight.

Kirishima watched as Bakugou washed the blood off of himself in the ocean, the kings cape hung off his faithful companion’s outstretched arm. Flames shot up towards the darkening sky as a raging inferno engulfed the empty village behind them. A rare grimace had replaced the red head’s usual shark toothed smile, beads of sweat lined his brow and dribbled down his broad back. The only sympathy within the red dragon shifter’s heart was for his best friend; Not an ounce was spared for the people that had now lost their homes, nor the bastard that had his life snuffed out by royal hands. This was the price to be paid for causing the king such immense grief. They got off easy honestly, maybe the two dragons would return when the rats thought it was safe to come out of wherever they were hiding. Only to end up being massacred by unforgiving talons and teeth. Once the blonde exits the water he takes his cape back, fastening it, and giving his comrade a simple nod before both of them begin to shift. Neither one of the massive dragons spared the burning island a glance as they took off toward home.

💐

“Oh what should I do now? I have no idea” you huff, somehow you ended up in a picturesque meadow.

Various types of flowers are surrounding you, all of them are so colorful and vibrant. You apologize to each one you plucked from the earth, nimble fingers setting to work on weaving a crown to set atop your head. “Id gotten so comfortable with life at the village I’d almost forgotten that I’m not originally from this world…nor am I used to such solitude…” Your whispers are carried away by the wind as it begins to blow rather harshly.

🍃

“I think that’s good enough to replenish my stock for now, guess I’ll head back and drop these off before I go back to the capital, better hurry if I want to make it in time for Kaachan’s return” the green haired male says to no one in particular, wiping the sweat from his freckled brow. “Oh no looks like a storm is approaching” Izuku mumbles as he exits the dense forest and takes in the darkening sky over head “Damn”. Upon reaching the floral meadow the first drops of rain begin to fall, just beyond the flowers hidden by a clump of trees, sets a small house his deceased mother used to call home. It now serves as a miniature library, as well as a laboratory that the greenette uses to practice his alchemy. The spontaneous down pour is surprising in itself, but the sudden boom of thunder, and flash of lightning is unnerving. What could have caused such a sudden severe change of weather? Another loud boom sounds above but a frightened scream comes from somewhere in the meadow.

Emerald eyes squint against the pelting rain as they scan the surroundings, and then he sees her.

A lone figure shivering amongst the flowers, hands clasped over her ears and eyes squeezed shut.

Midoryia wastes no time hurrying over to the frightened woman, “Hey there! Are you out here all alone miss? Have you been injured?”.

Your eyes open as you hear the concerned tone of a stranger, opening your mouth to reply a bright strike of lightening hits a tree mere yards from where you sit.

A yelp escapes you and suddenly you have one of the man’s arms in a tight hold. “Oh no you’re soaked, c’mon I have shelter just ahead and I’m sure you would appreciate a change of clothes” the green haired stranger gives you an infectious smile that you do your best to return, allowing him to lead you out of the storm.

A/N: Thoughts? Should I open a tag list?

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x y/n #bakugou x y/n #dragon king bakugou

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bridgetotheskyyy · 1 year

Text

bad idea

series masterlist

chapter summary: megs is caught with his hands full

chapter warnings: nsfw, 18+ content, aged up characters, utter filth don't look @ me, masturbation, oral, facials, reader is more dominant

a/n: can someone punch ao3 for me the dreaded paragraph spaces are back 😭 I sincerely hope y'all enjoy!

read on ao3 here

This was the mother of all bad ideas.

But as Megumi crept his hand down his abdomen toward his excited cock, he couldn’t imagine it being anything but a good one.

The hotel room was quiet save for the clock tick, tick, ticking at the wall; Megumi groped his crotch and felt his hardened cock twitch in his palm —

Megumi stifled a groan, quick to undo his fly.

He was a fucking animal, but he couldn’t help it; he had mistaken his drawer for yours and had found an entire collection of your lacy panties, one after the other, and what was worse: his sinful mind’s eye had imagined you in them, your sweet cunt hugged into the underwear, squeezing your plush thighs together —

“Ah, fuck,” he couldn’t remember if he had locked the door or only closed it; the idea of you or Yuji walking in at any moment and seeing him jerking off when they should all be searching for curses was horrifying, but the fabric of those panties and the stroke of his cock were all that could occupy his brain.

Megumi stroked himself, one eye cracked open to survey the door. He felt his cheeks grow hot, breath shallow — and then hitched as he thought of your hand coming over his cock, literally in the palm of your hand.

She can come in if she wants, Megumi’s mind cottoned with desire. I don’t care.

He did care, but the feel of his hand palming his cock evaporated his shame. A part of him ached for you to creak the door open and see what you did to him. He thought of your drawer and cursed himself for not having stolen a pair just for this occasion.

Megumi felt sweat on his neck as he tightened his grip, quickened the pace. He thought of you hooking your fingers under the band of your panties, sliding them down slowly past your thighs, for him.

“A—ahh …”

If he had any pride at all, he’d stuff himself back in his trousers and help himself to a cold shower, but the thoughts of you propelled his hand. Megumi bit his lip, felt the raise of climax begin to tighten his stomach. So close …

He thought of the slick from your cunt as you removed your panties, his fingers deep in your cunt, taking them out only to taste you. Tasting you himself, licking a mixture of your cum and his off your labia —

Megumi felt his hand frantic now. He raised off the bed, curling toward his climax. His other hand gripped so tight in the sheets he was sure to tear them.

“Ah,” curse after curse spilled from his lips, climax precipicing, “ah, f — ah, shit —“

“Megumi …?”

His eyes popped open. In a flash, he retreated into the bed, covers over him.

So. He hadn’t locked the door.

Secure under the sheets, he angled his head toward the door, dread creeping over him.

You were there, hand on the door frame, looking over him with concern.

“Y — (Y/n) …”

“Are you okay?”

Actual total opposite of fine.

“I heard you it — it sounded like you might be hurt so I came to check on —“

“Fine,” he lied, turning away from you, desperate to ignore the painfully hard throbbing cock between his legs. “Just … a headache is all.”

“Hm …” he envisioned the cute head cock you must be doing right about now. “You don’t seem fine. Let me just —“

“I said I’m fine,” he pressed, tone firm, but it did nothing to still the frantic beating of his heart.

Footsteps.

“Let me just see your head, Megs.”

His crazed heartbeat was in his ears. “St — stop,” he ordered, but it was weak and knew it wouldn’t deter you.

He came to lean beside him opposite the bed and looked him over. He could imagine how he appeared; sweaty, face flushed and red, under different circumstances, sick, maybe with the flu?

It wasn’t the fucking flu.

You reached for him, pulling him backward. His hold on the sheets was awkward, and they slipped —

“Wait —!”

Too late; the sheets he had balled in his hand fell to the floor, his cock springing to life in your face.

You startled, eyes glued to his cock.

Megumi froze, save for the frantic twitching of his eye. Fuckfuckfuck —

Your expression softened, eyes never leaving his cock dangling dangerously close to your lips.

Finally, you looked up at him.

“You’re a lot bigger than I thought.”

….

What?

He couldn’t reply — was that a compliment or an insult? He didn’t know, couldn’t know; his head swam as reality turned to mush and you came forward.

“I —“

Megumi swallowed as you left a hand on his inner thigh, forcing him to spread the leg attached.

“Is this for me?” You asked innocuously. You were on your knees, literally, eyes glittering with the orange hotel lights and batting eyelashes at him.

Megumi couldn’t bring himself to speak as your breath ghosted over his cockhead.

This is a dream. No way is she going to —

Your hand fell over his cock, angled it forward. Your sweet lips began to part, your head bowing forward to take his cock into your mouth.

Oh.

You moaned, as though eating melting candy. Megumi felt the shiver of your hum tickle his spine. He opened his mouth to speak only for his voice to die at the feel of your hand coming to grasp the rest of his shaft.

You bobbed your head even farther, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck …” Megumi’s head fell back. “If Yuji walks in —“

You popped his cock from your mouth to answer. “He won’t; he found the curse.”

Megumi looked down. Oh. The reasonable part of him figured they should be out there, helping him —

Instead, you’re here getting your dick sucked.

Megumi’s hand tentatively grazed your forearm with his fingers as you took him in your mouth again.

“So you say …” he murmured, concern lingering.

Again, he left your mouth.

“If he walks in,” You began before flicking his tip, “he can watch.”

He clutched the sheets as you worked your mouth on him. He felt you hollow your cheeks and his legs weakened at the feel of your sweet, pillowy mouth around his cock. He felt the hotel sheets tear in his grip as the ghost of your teeth grazed against the skin of his shaft —

“(Y/n), fuck —“ he choked.

You popped him from your mouth. He eyed you, leaving his cockhead on the cushion of your lips.

“You taste a lot better, too,” You said.

You jerked him, opening your mouth, waiting for his cum to coat your pink tongue. Fuck. He shuddered at the sight, climax rising dangerously up his spine —

That was when he pulled himself away from you.

“Megs?” You said, surprised.

He gripped your arm and pulled you into bed, switching positions with you.

“No,” he murmured, feeling braver, hands lifting your skirt up your thighs, eyeing the hot pink of your panties. “Not yet …”

He didn’t know why he stopped you; maybe it was because he wanted your pussy in his mouth. Or maybe he was a sick fuck who liked to edge himself, whatever the case, his mouth ran dry at the sight of the slick wet spot blossomed at the cup of your panties.

“Megs …” You moaned.

He hooked his fingers and pulled them down. “I want to taste you first …”

He wrestled your panties from your legs, then wrestled with the idea of stuffing them in his pocket for later, before you parted your legs for him with a soft moan.

Megumi settled his hands where the fat came to rest at your hips, hooked his hands there and scooted you toward the edge of the bed, toward his mouth. His breath inches from your cunt sent you trembling in his grip before he gave an experimental lick at your folds.

You mewled, hands tangling in his hair, fingers massaging his scalp. He moaned in your cunt, your juices coating his tongue.

“Megumi …” You moaned, tugging his head closer.

He poked his tongue and felt the gush of juices hit his tongue. His hand reached up to thumb at your clit. Fuck, if you only knew how long he’d wanted to do this to you, how obsessed he was with the idea of your cunt, how thoughts of it had sent his hand clinging to his cock.

His nose brushed against your cunt as you brought him closer. He closed his eyes, focusing solely on how his tongue ventured into your folds. His cock stood painfully hard, a string of precum seeping onto the hotel carpet.

A low groan escaped Megumi’s throat as he substituted his thumb for two fingers flicking at your clit sideways —

He heard you gasp from above before you shoved his face into your cunt.

“Oh, Megumi, I — fuck, oh!”

Megumi held on tighter, eyes rolling back as you suffocated him with your twat. Too much … he reached for his cock, fisting it all while desperate to burn this moment into his memory.

Plunging his tongue into your depths he earned low purrs from you.

“I — I hear you, Megs,” You said between desperate breaths. “I hear you je — jerking off. Don’t you dare, I — want it in my mouth! — Megumi …!”

The way you said his name —

His groan sounded from deep within him as he used all his strength as a fucking sorcerer to tear his hand away and focus only on your drooling cunt. In a fit of thinly-veiled revenge, he pinched your clit between his fingers.

“Aa— aha!” You trapped his head between your thighs. “You like this? Like drowning in my cunt — aah!”

You have no fucking idea.

He wanted to stay like that forever, head buried in your pussy. Your legs began to tremble, your back cat-arching off the mattress, moans growing higher-pitched as he worked he trapped your clit between his fingers and left it victim to his tongue.

“Megumi!”

He felt your pussy clench and convulse against his mouth, delighted in the way your juices glazed his lips and tongue. He drank your orgasm, wished he could save your water and put it on his breakfast every morning.

Your hands lost themselves in the spike of his hair as you rocked against him. He was determined to let you ride your orgasm out on his face, convinced he had a face for just this purpose.

A few desperate, victimized “oh, oh, ohs” escaped your lips before you began to relax, convulsions coming less frequently. You looked up at him.

He licked his lips.

“Get up here,” You ordered. “S’ your turn.”

He abandoned your legs, more animal than man as he gripped his cock, and positioned it before your face. You opened your mouth for him, your tongue a canvas for his cum to paint —

“God, fuc — fuck …!” Megumi furrowed his brows, fought to keep eyes open — because no way would he miss this — as he spilled over your eager tongue.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his cum splattered into your mouth.

“Fuck — (Y/n), I —“ the climax killed his voice. Megumi couldn’t control his hand moving frantically over his cock, draining himself over your face.

Cum dripped from your lips as you looked up at him, a soft, cum-painted smirk coming over your face.

Megumi blushed. “I’m — I’m sorry —“

You tilted your head in disbelief, smiling up at him. “For what?” Fingers came to scoop up his seed from your lips and into your mouth. “S’ what I asked for, after all.”

He swallowed. “Mm …”

Your eyes trailed down to his cock. He followed you — and was almost embarrassed. Figures. His cock stood to attention; your very existence made him hard, but covered in his cum? It wouldn’t have been long before his cock had come back to life, ready again.

You had sparkles in your eyes. “C’mon, we probably don’t have much longer.”

You scooted toward the top of the bed, head on the pillows. He followed you, hands groping everywhere. The two of you were still mostly dressed, yet his cock twitched at the soft squeeze his palm gave to one of your tits.

“Mm …” You purred.

He bucked into you, causing you to gasp. His hand fell on the side of your head, and when you looked up at him he leaned forward, kissing you fervently.

“Mm …” Megumi breathed. “Can taste myself …”

And you on him and he on you. Fuuuck. You nibbled on him, your hands flat against his back as he ground into you.

He trailed to your jaw. He felt your nipple harden under his palm.

“Aah! Megs, stop —“

You rocked back into him —

“— teasing.”

He groaned, sitting up to grip his cock. He lifted the hem of your skirt, positioned against your entrance — a sigh of unison sounding between the two of you as he slid into you.

The grip of your cunt sent him reeling. He came back down on your lips. A part of him wanted you on top, to ride him as you drained his cock and any remaining dignity he had, but you felt too good for him to even consider doing anything but thrusting inside your hot welcoming pussy —

His hips slapped you into the mattress, his hand already going to that abused clit he loved so much. You turned your head, teeth biting into the pillow, nails biting into his shoulder blades as he fucked you how he always wanted, hard and fast and —

“C’mon, Megs,” You rasped out. “Fuck me, you can cum inside me, wherever you want — you already know that — oh!”

“Fuck …” he hissed. You were trying to drain the cum from his cock again already.

He tore your shirt, revealing the lace of your bra. He yanked it away and assaulted your nipple with his mouth, sucking intently.

“Mm — aah!” Your moans mingled with the slap of his hips against you.

He growled, feeling it again. Next time, you were definitely riding him, tits bouncing in his face, cunt slamming down on him. Even in the midst of fucking you he still dreamt of fucking you. Pathetic.

He slathered your nipple with his tongue, rolling your clit around in his fingers.

“Meg — oh — fuck —“ You gasped out as his pace turned wild.

He felt you clench around him and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. He bit into your neck hard. The swirl of your wet cunt surrounding his cock was like nothing else in the world —

“I’m —“ he choked.

“Please, Megumi,” your tongue swirled around his earlobe. “Please …”

That was it; a few more hard thrusts and he buried himself inside you, cum spilling into you. He buried himself in your neck as you pressed yourself into him, pussy milking him.

Megumi rose away from you. With great pains, he pulled his cock away, watching as his cum pooled from your cunt onto the sheets. He scooped it before shoving his release back in with his fingers.

“Oh …”

He sat on top of you, spent, the sweat of your bodies sticking the two of you together. You pulled him forward and he butterflied kisses over your neck and jaw, relishing in the soft bloom of hickeys beginning to be born on your skin.

“Mmm …” You purred at his attention.

He made it to the other side of your face before something caught his eye.

He reached forward, cock still sheathed in you. His cheeks reddened as your panties draped around his shoulders.

“Can I keep these?”

You snorted. “What?”

“Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again,” Megumi said, eyeing the undergarment shrouding his fingers like a museum piece. Then he witnessed the way you were staring at him and shrugged. “I’d like them for myself.”

You shook your head at him. “It’s always the quiet ones,” then waved him off. “Sure, whatever, do what you want.”

The two of you jerked at the sound of a faraway door closing.

“I’m back!” Yuji’s voice carried through the hotel room. “Didn’t miss anything interesting, did I?”

#megumi smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you

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mggsv · 9 months

Text

Diner Boy

m!reader x dean winchester (18+)

summary: he’s a regular, comes often but there’s never really a pattern. he sits with his brother, Sam, you learned. sometimes they’re smiling and having a good time, other times they look like they’ve just fought, but no matter what- they always sit together, and today you’ve caught his eye- Dean.

warnings: car sex, hair pulling, overstimulation

“He’s staring at you…” Your work friend, Charlie, had said. You were standing at the counter sorting the tickets. It wasn’t a busy day, but it wasn’t slow either. It kept you both working, with plenty time to talk. You gave her a small look before scoffing, “You say this almost everyday Char.”

“Well yes, but, Sam and Dean don’t come here everyday.” You catch her eye as she motioned over to the table she just came from not too long ago. “You are very pretty..you get mistaken for a girl often-“

“I don’t want to talk about that. And besides,” you pick up a tray of food, fit for another table, “I’m sure they’re staring at you, you just like girls and don’t take interest.” You give her a wink while she starts to giggle.

It was true, though. He was staring at you. Your beautiful frame, your curly hair fanning around your face, your perfect lips that pulled into a smile whenever you interacted with the tables to catered to for the night. Dean was watching, and you felt his gaze.

You could hardly work. His eyes made your legs week, and your pants tight. You felt hot but there was no sweat. Your hands shook while taking orders. You knew what you wanted, what your body screamed at you to take before the chance of a lifetime slipped away.

Your shift ended roughly at 10. You’re tired, body aching. You take off your apron before saying your goodbye’s to your coworkers. Charlie had left an hour before. It was raining outside, it made you groan. As much as you loved the rain, you walked to work, and walking in the rain meant an umbrella you didn’t have. “Need a lift?” you hear a voice behind you, a familiar one at that, his voice. Dean. You hear yourself chuckle, turning around to look at his tall frame. “No.”

“No? It’s raining like hell out here and you have no umbrella, and you say “no”?” He’s leaning against the glass frame of the wall. He bore a small grin, but those eyes..those eyes said so much more. You felt it. They trailed your body down to your hips, and rested before making their way back up to your eyes.

“Yeah.” you cleared your throat. “And if you’re done..” you look away, staring at the rain pour harder. The droplets beginning to splash against your legs and his boots. Dean moves closer, the soft clack of his shoes perfectly in sync with the rain. Where was Sam, you had wondered. “Do you..need a ride?” He asked again, lowly, fit only for you.

“…yes.”

the walk back to Dean’s beautiful car felt like forever. He shielded you from the rain, his brown leather jacket over your frame. His arm wrapped around your shoulder securely like you were the most precious thing in the world at that moment, protected..

“ha….ha fuck.” Your hand was lost into his short locs of hair, gripping on what you could. You breathed heavily into the small space of Baby’s backseat, suffocated. Dean held your waist, cock disappearing into your hole for what seemed like the hundredth time this night. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, sweaty forehead rested against your shoulder. “Dean..” you moan.

He shuddered, bottoming out inside of you. Your cock leaked against his stomach. You were so closed it rubbed just up against it in the right of ways. Your breathes came to a shuddering halt. Your heart seemed to drop into your stomach, and a clean wash fell over you. Your hands found their way to Deans shoulder, squeezing as you rode out another orgasm, your seed shooting lazily across you and Dean’s stomach. “You feel so good baby..” He groans. His hands tightened the grip onto your waist. While your body relaxed against his own, he sped up. Your body moved quickly against Dean’s thick cock. “So fuckin’ good.”

Your body rolled against his. Your legs felt tight, you tried your best but your body shook to its core. “Dean-“ You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder. He hit that spot inside of you so well…You couldn’t help the helpless whimper falling from your lips. “Almost there.” Dean grunts, failing to notice Sam’s name flash across his buzzing phone.

#dean winchester #male reader #supernatural #sam winchester #winchester #dean x reader #dean x castiel #dean winchester x male reader #m reader #dean winchester supernatural #m!reader #male #dean winchester smut #castiel #lgbt #dean #baby supernatural #sam #sam and dean

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stvharrngton · 1 year

Note

Okay how about a blurb where reader got out of hospital like a couple days ago (totally not self inserting) and wants sexy time with Steve but he’s afraid of hurting her so he’s so gentle and loving and it’s just lots of fluff within the smut <33 also ily so much

your wish is my command 😌🫶 hope you enjoy bestie ily more <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k (because i apparently don’t know what a blurb is)

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, fingering, p in v, lots of pet names and praise, softie steeb

taglist: @dukesmebby @saturnband @sweetbabygirlsworld

You were staring.

You really couldn’t help it. Eyes glued to your boyfriend who was sauntering around the place shirtless, no less. Steve wasn’t making this easy for you.

He insisted you didn’t lift a finger, that you ‘sat your pretty little ass on the couch and don’t move’, were his specific words. Why he had to fluff your pillows and refill your juice with no shirt on, hair all tousled and grey sweats hanging low on his hips, you had no idea.

The muscles in his back and broad shoulders flexing every time he moved, biceps bulging when he reached to fix a photo frame. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs, an audible sigh that could have easily been mistaken for a moan falling from your lips as the boy stretched in front of the window, the light peaking through the blinds decorating him in a warm glow.

Steve shot you a look of concern over his shoulder at the small noise, immediately rushing over to your side. Features worried at the discomfort on your face, a look that Steve mistook for pain, rather than, well, a craving for something else.

It had been a little while since you and Steve found yourselves tangled between the sheets, your extended stay in the hospital putting a minor dampener on your intimacy. But you’d had enough, every little touch or soft spoken word from Steve sent a shiver down your spine.

“Babe?” He asked as he knelt down beside you, “What is it? Are you hurting? What do you need?”

Your heart swelled at his concern but all you could think about was how big his hand looked as he placed it on your thigh.

“What is this, twenty one questions, Stevie?” you hummed.

He scoffed playfully, pretending not to notice how you took your bottom lip between your teeth as his fingers inched instinctively further up your leg.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, “what’s got you all hot and bothered, babygirl?”

Warmth prickled your skin, excitement coursing through your veins. You couldn’t help but just blurt it out, Steve looking all too irresistible, the way he was smirking at you all too coy.

“You, Steve,” you whispered, voice shy and quiet, “you’ve got me all hot and bothered.”

“Oh,” Steve stammered, looking a little hesitant, his mind pondered between his options, “baby, look I—“

“Please don’t say what I think you're about to say.” A sigh fell from your lips, a defeated look washing over your features. Lips forming into a pout that Steve thought was oh so cute.

Steve reached up to cup your face, his thumb swiping over your cheek, “Honey, you just got out of the hospital a couple days ago,” he said, taking a second to press a kiss to your knee, “I want to, fuck, I want to so bad but I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” your act of persuasion had begun, leaning up in hope of capturing his lips in a kiss, “but I can’t wait anymore, Steve, I’m aching for you.”

The moment those words were spoken into the space between you, Steve was like a rabbit in headlights. Wide eyed and jaw slack, he couldn’t speak. A best of silence in the room, a quiet ‘fuck’ murmured from his lips.

Steve leant in slowly, his lips brushing against yours ever so slowly. Sure, you’d spent plenty of time exchanging kisses here and there but this time felt like it would actually leave somewhere. Somewhere that would have your legs shaking and cunt dripping.

It was soft and slow, a kiss full of want and longing. You breathed a sigh into Steve’s lips, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as everything started to unravel inside you.

Steve was gentle, his hands barely touching your skin as they wandered over your body. His fingers danced over your chest over the soft cotton of your t-shirt, curling under the hem, thumb brushing over your erect nipple.

You moaned loudly, a feat that would be embarrassing if you weren’t so ready for Steve to take you there and then. He smiled against your lips, fingers travelling lower and lower until they reached your shorts.

Delving beneath the waistband of your shorts and panties, Steve ran a finger through your folds, soft and slow. You keened under his touch, hips bucking involuntarily.

“Easy there, pretty girl,” Steve cooed, “God, you’re so wet already.” Finger pressing into your already throbbing clit, moving in tender circles. You cried out in pleasure, a sweet sound that Steve was so happy to hear once again.

Steve groaned as he slipped his fingers lower down your heat, plunging two thick fingers into your sopping hole. Your walls clenched around him, back arching from the plump pillows propping you up.

His fingers pumped in and out of your pussy painfully slow, a teasing motion that wound you up tight, already so close to the edge. “Steve,” you whined, “please, need more. Need you.”

It came out strangled, pleading, begging. Steve was in awe of your figure laid out on the couch, loved up doe eyes in a haze as he watched you come undone.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “are you sure, baby?”

“Yes, God yes,” you wailed, fingers coming to rake through his soft brown locks, “I can’t wait any longer, Steve, please.”

Steve carefully removed his fingers from you, subtly sticking them in his mouth as he groaned at your taste. He curled his fingers around your shorts, pulling them down your legs. A sharp intake of the boy’s breath as his gaze fell on your soaked panties.

Standing up straight, losing his grey sweats, Steve’s cock hard and straining against his boxers. He leant over you, fingers wrapping around your cheek as he pressed his lips to yours.

“Can you scoot up, sweetheart?” He asked, “Let me get in behind you, hm?”

You nodded against his kiss, shuffling closer to the edge the best you could. Ridding himself of his boxers, Steve wrapped his fingers around his throbbing cock, exhaling in pleasure.

Steve slotted in right behind you, both of you laying on your sides. He let his lips wander over your neck to your shoulder, teeth nipping so softly. Cock still in hand, he swiped the tip between your folds, collecting your slick and spreading it over his length.

He pressed the head of his cock into your entrance, barely getting the tip in before you moaned out. Steve hushed you, hand rubbing up and down your arm soothingly, “Oh sweet girl,” he cooed in your ear, “it’s okay, you’re doing so good.”

Steve pressed his lips to your neck as he felt you nod, urging him to press himself into your pussy more. He inched in slowly, your walls hugging his cock tightly.

“Fuck, I missed you.” Steve hissed. He squeezed your arm as his head rolled back against the sofa, a loud moan tumbling from his lips at the feeling.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you hummed Steve’s name, a pretty whisper, a delicate sigh. You felt so full, Steve’s cock stretching you out sinfully. A fluid motion of his hips rocking against your ass, his cock fucking in and out of you slow and gentle.

Steve’s lips were all over you like a whirlwind, soft kisses all over your dewy skin. The shell of your ear to your cheek, lips sucking on your earlobe before licking a stripe up your neck.

“Steve,” you whimpered, the feeling so overwhelming, your boyfriend being so close to you, fucking your so deep but so gentle.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, fingers curling around your cheek, bringing your gaze to his, “I know, you’re doing so good for me. Taking my cock so well,�� lips crashing to yours, tongues mixing and swirling together, “missed this pussy so much.”

Steve snaked his arm around your back, his hand grasping onto your tits, the other went to your thigh, lifting your leg ever so slightly. The new angle allowing him to go deeper, his hips still rocking slowly against your ass.

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to realise what you were doing, hand travelling down your stomach to your pussy. Middle and pointer finger rubbing over your clit slowly, the sensation paired with Steve’s cock soothing your aching cunt causing you to mewl out an outrageous moan.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby,” Steve moaned, nose nuzzling along your neck, “there you go, that feel good, hm?”

You could only reply with a moan of your own, your climax fast approaching. It was all too much, Steve’s hands all over you, all soft and loving, his lips pressing sweet kisses to any exposed skin he could find. Your fingers on your clit, Steve’s thick cock filling you up.

“Can I cum, Steve? Please, baby, please.” You whined, fingers moving a little faster, a little harder over your puffy clit. The wet sound of Steve fucking himself into your pussy only pushing you towards your orgasm faster.

“Come on, pretty,” he cooed, eyes switching quickly between your own fingers on your clit and your beautiful fucked out features, “cum all over my cock, honey. Let it all go.”

Crashing over you like a tidal wave, your body wracked with pleasure and electricity. You arched your back off Steve’s chest, wailing out incoherent babbles that only Steve could pull from you. Your chest heaved as everything went white hot, Steve’s lips on your shoulder bringing you back down to the ground.

“Such a good girl,” Steve whispered from behind you, “so beautiful, so sweet. Fuck.”

Steve wasn’t far behind you, your walls clenching around his length pushing him closer to his own high. Hips moving a little faster, as fast as he would allow himself whilst still holding you like a feather, so soft and delicate. Steve sunk his teeth into your shoulder, whispering words of encouragement to himself.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” Steve moaned, letting his climax overcome his senses, thighs clenching and fingers digging into your thigh, “shit— ‘m gonna cum.”

One more roll of his hips and he was gone, cock spurting hot cum inside you, high-pitched moans leaving his pretty lips. His soft tan skin flushed pink, sweat dampening his brow. Steve called out your name, a strung out moan as his cock stilled inside of you.

Steve’s chest heaved against your back, his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, nose inhaling your perfume. You stroked your fingers along his arm in a soothing manner, coaxing him through his orgasm.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I missed you so much.”

Steve chuckled against your neck.

“Missed you more, beautiful.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #k.fic #request

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the-marvelclub · 5 months

Text

While you were sleeping

bucky barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is in love with the mysterious man who goes every week to the bar where she works. When one night she witnesses a fight that leaves the man in a coma and he´s taken to the hospital, she is mistaken for his fiancée, unaware that the mysterious man is Steve Rogers himself. With no family and after losing everything in The Blip, reader becomes captivated with Steve's friends and their unconditional love for her that she can't bring herself to tell the truth. Things get complicated when she finds herself falling for Steve's best friend, Bucky.

Author’s note: This is my first time writing for Bucky and I'm planning to make it a series. Loosely based on the 1995 movie "While You Were Sleeping". English is not my first language. Feedback is always appreciated.

If someone had asked you a couple of years ago if you believed in love at first sight you probably would’ve laughed in their face, the whole concept seemed to belong only in the white pages of a book or in the bright screen of a tv, but not in real life, real life was more complicated than that. The idea of giving your heart away to someone you just met was ridiculous.

But that was before.

Now you were completely sure that you belonged to him, that you had belonged to him from the moment he walked through the doors of the small and almost empty bar where you worked.

It was the way he carried himself, hands in his pockets as he made his way to the front bar, the way he wore that ridiculous baseball cap that hide his dirty blond hair, the way he had run his fingers through that full beard when he ordered a drink and how he had closed his eyes shut placing a hand on his chest laughing when Joe, the bartender and owner of the bar, told him a joke. You'd be lying if you said you didn't spend most of your time daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss him, hold his hand or even start a life with him. Well, I guess Joe was right, you needed a new hobby. His routine was always the same; Monday night, when the bar was almost empty, Steven would arrived and go straight to the front bar, order a couple of beers and exchange a couple of jokes with Joe. One hour later he would pay and then leave. Although you hadn’t spoken to him, you couldn't help but admire him from afar, happy just to see him once again.

“Earth to y/n" Jimmy, your co-worker and next-door neighbor spoke, waving his hand repeatedly in front of your face forcing you out of your thoughts that always seemed to revolve around Steven and how much you wished the weekend would end so you could see him again. "Busy thinking about me?" You saw him giving you a crooked smile in the dim light and running his eyes up and down your entire body in a not so subtle way.

“You got me" You sighed standing up straight, cleaning the table in front of you. Since the first day you started working there, he had taken a certain interest in you, always making flirtly comments and asking you to dates despite making it very clear you would never go out with him.

“I'm going to bed" he let out as he put on his denim jacket, little drops of sweat covering his chubby cheeks and making his curly black hair stick to his skin. "You are more than welcome to join me." He said winking at you and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at him, shaking your head in desapproval as you wave goodbye.

The clock in front of you read 2:43 a.m. as you let out a yawn and rub your eyes from exhaustion watching the only clients left in the bar. Working as a waitress in a small bar wasn't your dream job but it paid the bills. Besides, Joe had taken you in and allowed you to stay in the small apartment above the bar for a reasonable price, which helped you a lot.

Things after the Blip hadn't been the same, one day you were in the kitchen of your beautiful apartment making dinner and the next thing you knew, you woke up on the cold hard kitchen floor with the most horrible headache. Strangers, who seemed to be living in your apartment now, giving you shocked looks. In a matter of seconds, 5 years had passed and everything you once knew had disappeared; your home, your job, your family. You shook your head pushing those thoughts away not wanting to think about it at that moment. Turning to look at the couple when they ask you for the check, you smiled, thinking about how in a few more minutes you would be curled up in your soft and warm bed. You really had to talk to Joe about switching to the morning shift.

You cleaned the table once the couple had left and turned off the lights making sure the doors were securely closed. Grabbing the garbage bags you made your way to the back door and into the back alley of the bar to throw them away. The cold wind brushed against your skin making you shiver, the old streetlight which kept flickering was the only thing that separated you from the darkness of the night.

The dead silence that lately seemed to fill the city was interrupted by a sudden loud crash that startled you making you drop the garbage bags, turning around you saw a man lying on the ground trying to get up, where the hell had he come from?

You gasped.

It was Steven. Your Steven. Only this time his pretty face was covered in small cuts and blood was coming out of his nose dripping into his white shirt, the shock written all over his face when his eyes set on you made you froze. In a blink of an eye, he had lunged at you and pulled you behind the big metal trash container before the deafening sound of guns being fired and bullets passed by the two of you.

"Are you okay?" he shouted over the noise when you let out a scream and hold onto him, his worried eyes searching your face making sure you were okay. It was the first time he had ever spoken to you and you couldn’t breath, the words got caught in your throat, refusing to come out. You haven’t been this closed to him before. He seemed rather familiar. "Stay here, don't move" he ordered you when you didn’t say a word and then run into the alley again.

Your stomach shot up to your throat when you took a quick look to see what was happening; Steven was fighting with a man who were dressed in black, two more were lying unconscious in the floor, his cold and calculating look told you that he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. The smell of sweat and blood filled the air and fear ran through your body as you watched the man take the gun and point it at him, everything after that moved in slow motion; in one quick movement, Steven had snatched the gun from the man’s hands and threw it away as he connected his fist with his face. Blood splattered on the ground. You didn't know he could fight like that, his movements were fast and precise, as if he had been training for that moment his whole life. He smashed his knee against the man’s face and without giving him time to recover from the blow, he attacked him again, his fists reaching his already bloodied face again and again making him fall to the cement with a thud, totally unconscious. That's when a bright white light appeared, illuminating everything, a fourth man that you haven't seen before was leaning against the brick wall near Steven, he didn't look bigger than the man lying unconscious on the cement next to him but an uneasy feeling invaded you, he wasn't trying to fight Steven, in fact he hadn't tried to attack him, no, he was studying him, he was studying every move he made, that's why when Steven attacked him, he quickly dodged his blows and with a quick movement he placed both hands on his head, the white light no longer illuminated the alley but small flashes of light seemed to want to escape from in between his fingers, you didn't know what was happening but when you heard Steven howl of pain and fall to the ground on his knees you knew that he was hurting him.

You didn't know what came over you but the next thing you knew is that you grabbed a metal pipe that was lying next to you and ran towards that man, catching him off guard and hit him in the back of the head, making him dropped to the floor. You quickly turned around searching for Steven, that’s when you saw him, he was on his knees on the pavement, his back was turned from you, he stay there for a couple of seconds not moving before fallen to the ground just like the other guys. You ran to him immediately, dropping to your knees, ignoring the pain that shot up all over your legs as you did.

“No, no, no, are you okay? Talk to me" you whispered desperately as you brought your ear to his chest trying to see if his heart was still beating. "Come on Steven, you have to wake up" you pleaded shaking him but his eyes remained closed. With shaky hands you grabbed your phone from your pocket and diall 911.

He was not waking up.

——

"W-where are you taking him?" you asked the doctor once you finally caught sight of Steven, everything was moving so fast in the hospital, they were carrying a very unconscious Steven on the gurney and everyone was shouting instructions. You frowned as they look between Steven and you, curiosity and what it seems like confusion written all over their faces. What was going on?

The gray-haired doctor immediately turned around, finally noticing your presence when they led Steven through some doors and you tried to follow him. "Oh, you can’t go in there" he said quickly raising a hand, stopping you from entering those doors.

"No, you don't understand. I was with-"

"Are you family?" he cut you off, his gaze full of exasperation.

"No," you muttered. You just wanted to know if he was going to be okay. "But I was-"

"You can't go in. Family only." He interrupted you again "Wait in there" he said coldly pointing to the small waiting room.

You sighed in defeat knowing that there was nothing you could do now, you followed Steven with your eyes until you saw him disappear through the white doors.

“But I was going to marry him" you murmured to yourself, hating the fact that this was the first time he had ever spoken to you and now it was very likely that you would never get the chance to talk to him or see his handsome face anymore, hell you didn't even know if he was going to be okay, or if you would ever see him alive again.

You bit your nails feeling nervous as you waited in the waiting room. It had been 2 hours and you knew that they had already contacted his family and that you should probably leave but you couldn't help but stay to see if you heard at least something that would tell you that he had woken up. That he was okay.

"Hello, sweetheart" you looked up as you heard the nurse's voice standing in front of you with sympathetic eyes. "You're y/n, right?" You noded. "Come with me". Without saying a word you followed her, noticing that she was taking you to the intensive care area. "I'll give you a few minutes" she smiled stopping in front of a door and indicating for you to go in.

Steven was lying on the white hospital bed, machines connected to his still unconscious body, a sigh of relief left your body as the small sound that filled the room indicated that his heart was still beating. "Is he here? What the hell happened?" You heard a voice say before other voices chimed in and everyone started talking at the same time, commotion filling the hallway outside the room. You stuck your head out the window trying to see what was going on outside and your face lost its color. The Avengers were in the hallway along with the same doctor you had talked to hours ago and they were heading to the room. What the hell was going on? You slowly made your way to the wall as far from the door as you could when the group of superheroes enter the room, all their attention fixed on Steven, oblivious to the fact that you were in the room. You frowned at how weird the situation was and then you darted your eyes to Steven. Realization washing all over you.

You take in a sharp breath.

How had you not noticed before? Blond hair, blue eyes, the only thing different about him was his beard which made him look very different from that golden boy that America loved. Steven... Steve. Steve Rogers. The Steve who used to be Captain America. You put your hand to your mouth in disbelief as to why you hadn't recognized him much earlier.

"What is going on?" You heard Sam Wilson ask, you remember hearing about him on the news although lately you didn’t pay much attention to what was happening, always too focus on your job or in attending the meetings of your support group.

"He's in a coma" the doctor began to explain and you took a breath "What they told me is that they found him in an alley unconscious, apparently there was a fight. We don't know much yet". You opened your mouth to tell them that you knew what had happened but the doctor spoke again "We don't know what caused this state, his vital signals are strong as well as his brain waves. He's a super soldier so i'm pretty sure he's going to be just fine". You sighed in relief as you listened to him.

"Thank you doctor, but we'll take it from here. We already have everything ready to transport him to the Avengers Compound." One of them talked and at that moment the policeman who had take your statement when you had called 911 hours ago walked through the door, his eyes fixed on you, the nurse who had let you into the unit behind him.

"I've been looking all over the hospital for you, I need to ask you a few more questions" he addressed you, making everyone in the room turn to look at you for the first time. You froze, your heart starting to pound as all eyes focused on you.

"Who's she?" The woman with short blonde hair spoke. You opened your mouth to answer when the nurse spoke for you.

"She's his fiancé."

Wait, what?

"She's Y/n and she's going to marry him" She spoke again throwing you a smile.

You shook your head repeatedly, your mouth opening and closing but no words came out, why had she said that? Commotion filled the room once again preventing you from speaking.

"Better yet, she save his life" commented the policeman smiling.

The whole room fell silent.

"I thought it was a fight," one of them said, confusion on his face.

"She fought the other guy, Steve was too weak to keep fighting, without her, he might not have survived".

They all stared at you once again, surprise written all over their faces. Before you could say anything else, the blonde haired girl, who you knew was known as Black Widow, walked up to you and wrapped her arms around you, making you freeze, squeezing you tightly before pulling away, only then you were able to see the tears that run through her face, she looked relieved but there was still worry in her eyes, she wiped away the tears quickly before speaking. "I'm sorry, it's just that we hadn't seen or talked to him in over 2 years, we didn't even know he was here in Brooklyn, after everything that happened -" you could tell her voice cracked and she shook her head before continuing "We thought we'd never see him again. But I'm glad he found you and that you're taking care of him.” She whispered, a smile dancing on her lips. “Thank you for bringing him back to us, I can’t wait to hear all about you”.

No, no, no.

"Oh, and by the way, welcome to the family".

#bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #marvel fics #sebastian stan fic #steve rogers x reader #marvel masterlist #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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thedgeoftheuniverse · 6 months

Text

THE END OF ALL THINGS | gale dekarios

pairing: gale x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: talk of insecurities with self, allusions to suicide/death (mystra when i fucking catch you), gale has no self confidence, not proof read i'm so sorry, i cannot stop slightly rewriting scenes from the companion's perspectives

Tomorrow, an inevitable fate will whisk him away from this plane of existence. But tonight? Tonight, the sky is alive and illuminated by a creation of his own making; if he is bound to sacrifice himself for a goddess that does not care for his life, then perhaps he is afforded selfishness in his final hours of existence.

It is not an unusual occurrence for Gale's words to seemingly run loose, escaping his mouth long before his brain—however knowledgeable it may be—has the chance to understand what he is saying. A small slip of the tongue, a misspoken sentence, an accidental admission of a thought that should have perhaps been voiced in a more private setting. He has always seemed to hold a special reverence for the sound of his voice; he knows how to string together a collection of sounds and syllables in his everyday speech that is akin to poetry, and his cadence cannot be ignored, not even intentionally. Even still, he falls victim to his prose far more than he would wish.

Especially around you.

He cannot seem to pinpoint the cause past you. There is no mistaking that his worst slip-ups—the kind that make heat spread across his cheeks and embarrassment sit on his chest—happen around you. He is unsure if it is the way the sunlight illuminates your eyes, transforming your already perfectly colored irises into an expanse of stars so vast that he could never hope to conjure a replica. He has contemplated the possibility of your laugh being the culprit; it is infectious, it is contagious, and it is a sound so melodious and rapturing that it could put a Harpy's song to shame. But no—he's sure that cannot be it. Nor could it be the gentleness of your voice during your conversations when it is late at night, when the camp—save for him and you—is asleep. It could not be the relentless selflessness and kindness that you have shown to strangers again and again and again.

It well and truly could not be the way you accepted him—his condition—and all of the impracticalities of his companionship without even a moment of question. It could not be that the relentless love you have shown to strangers, you shared with him tenfold; that despite the wretched monster, the menace he knows himself to be, you were kind—kind in a way that he fears he will never again find. It surely cannot be for any reason that could be mistaken for him being hopelessly in love with you; there is nothing that may be interpreted as his soul being eternally devoted to yours because his soul does not have an eternity—nor even a single lifetime—left. Perhaps it will only have tonight and the stars in the sky.

He knows he is selfish for entertaining these thoughts; however, he is unable to keep them from the front of his mind. He cannot keep you from the front of his mind. He knows that he is no good. He’s known it for longer than he can remember; he knows he is undeserving of your kindness, and it would be pure evil to ask for more from you.

But it would only be for tonight.

This is what he tells himself as he awaits your company with sweating palms and a racing heart. Perhaps the conjuration of himself was not the most romantic way to request your company for the evening, but he needed time—the stars were not going to hang themselves after all, and this had to be perfect. He has swallowed down his devotion to you for so long that he fears that one more moment will begin to choke him. Words will no longer do justice for you. It has to be perfect. He has to be perfect. He stands on the cusp of oblivion, moments away from taking his final steps, and he is desperate. Desperate to have you—the object of his desire and subject of his yearning—in his arms for the rest of his hours; desperate to live past tomorrow; desperate for a way out of his cruel fate; desperate to touch you, to hold you; desperate to be someone worth remembering; desperate for death; desperate for life; desperate to unwrap every layer of himself—to show you what little he has to offer; desperate for you to choose to stay in spite of that, even if only through tomorrow.

He is not sure hanging stars will provide him with much clarity on his conflicting desperations, but he does know that you will love them, and this is all that matters.

“Am I talking to the real Gale or mirror Gale now?” You question with a playfulness hidden behind your voice. Your eyes are glued to the sky. His are glued to your face, the way the moonlight dances across your cheekbones and illuminates your eyes. They cannot help but betray the depth of his affections.

He ignores your question, “Come—sit with me.” He lacks the mental clarity to reciprocate your lightheartedness. His heart seems to be the owner of his voice tonight (she is heavy, and he is running out of time). You join him on the grass, trying to ignore the anxiety balling up in your gut. He begins: “I love this time of night.” His heart hammers in his chest, and he is gripped with the fear that he has misread your previous interactions—that perhaps you were merely treating him with the same kindness you had shown every unfortunate soul that had thus crossed your path. Perhaps that moment of magic shared between you and the wish of a kiss, the lingering touches, stolen glances, and evenings shared while the camp rested were misread attempts at friendship rather than intimacy. Perhaps what he thought to be a deeply intimate connection shared through not only your souls but the Weave itself was simply nothing—a fairytale conjured by the emotionally starved recesses of his brain, which echoed through the hollowness of his ribcage, a desperate piece of him holding onto the illusion that he was enough.

Nevertheless, he has to do this—if he is to die tomorrow, it cannot be without you knowing how special you truly are.

He meets your gaze once more, though you are still enraptured by the picturesque scene before your eyes: “There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d believe the dawn will never break.” He hopes you cannot see the slight tremble in his hands as he speaks, “The cradle of eternity… the timelessness of lovers.” Your gaze finally meets his, and Gale can only pray that he would be shown the mercy of a believable facade of confidence. He is terrified, more so than he has ever been, but he does not want you to know this. He wants to be seen as a man who is hopelessly devoted to you, not because of desperation in the face of an imminent demise, but rather because this is how it has been since the moment he laid eyes on you, how it was always destined to be, and he dreads the thought of his fear leading you to believe anything less than that he would renounce every one of the Gods and Goddesses and declare them as false idols in favor of merely worshiping the ground beneath your feet.

The softness in your eyes allows him to relax, and the slight raise of your eyebrows invites him to push this conversation further: “The most beautiful of fantasies.” His eyes part from you to look upon his creation.

“Did you do all of this?” Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Has anyone ever performed such a gesture for you?

A small wave of confidence surges through his veins. “I did.” He dares another glance into your eyes, and he believes them to be far more intricate than his conjuration in the sky. “The curse still lingers, of course—just veiled and at an arm’s length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight is… different.” Your face crumples, and Gale’s fear returns tenfold. He knows you are no fool—that you know exactly why he chose tonight for such a spectacle; that you are no less aware than him of what tomorrow will bring. Perhaps even more than him. The sadness that radiates from your body is palpable, nearly creating an almost physical barrier between your two bodies and leaving a rotten smell in the air. “Tonight may be my las—”

Your voice, normally so sweet, is laced with a combination of rage and despair, and something else that Gale was simply unable to identify: “Don’t say that. We’ve discussed this time and time again, Gale. There has to be another way.” Your words come out rushed—panicked as though he would disappear before you could finish speaking.

“You know there isn't.”

“There has to be. I do not want to lose you. I cannot lose you, Gale; I do not want to leave you.” The sincerity in your eyes feels akin to his chest being ripped open, his heart exposed to the coolness of the night, and torn from him. “Have you no sympathy for those left to stand in your ashes?”

But this has to be done. (Doesn't it? Doesn't he burn with the desire for forgiveness? for a purpose greater than himself? Is this not the only way he will find it?)

“Do not be so foolish. I have no desire to leave you—you must know how special you are to me.” He does not miss how your body flinches at the words that he cannot prevent from leaving his mouth. Instead, he turns his head far enough to shield his eyes from the hurt he has inflicted. "But this is the only option. I cannot idly stand by and watch you or anyone else die, knowing I possess the ability to put an end to this. You must understand: I am doing this because I love you. I cannot bear the risk of living knowing it came at the expense of your life.”

He did not entirely realize the magnitude of his verbal slip, perhaps his most damnable yet, until he met your eyes once again. "You—you what?” In an instant, your gaze softens. The rage once dividing your bodies fades into an entirely new sensation, one that Gale still remains unable to identify. Gale, however, feels nearly sick to his stomach. This was not how he intended this evening to go.

“I…” And for the first time since you met his acquaintance, Gale is at a loss for words.

“Please don't go. I would risk death a thousand times over if it always meant one more night with you.” Tears are freely falling from your eyes. You are desperate. You can feel him slipping away from you. “Don't go. We can find another way.”

“I don't know what else there is to do.”

“Nor do I, but I know this is not the answer.”

“If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning? I am… terrified. I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it, even if my words sought to deny it.” He pauses for a moment and inhales a shaking breath before continuing: “There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it—on my own terms.”

“And what of me?” The shock on his face is evident, and his confusion is even more so. “You say you love me. Show me. Stay and show me."

In an instant, something lifts; clarity falls upon Gale’s shoulders as he watches tears streaming down your cheeks. Mystra’s forgiveness is not guaranteed, but he is almost able to believe that your love is a far greater purpose than absolution from a Goddess who forsook him in his most dire time of need. Perhaps you—a living, breathing deity made of nothing more than flesh and blood and infinite flaws but pure perfection nonetheless—are a far greater purpose than anything he ever believed he could be afforded.

It takes a moment for his words to return to him: “One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime and prise the fear from my heart.” He appears almost solemn in his confession. “I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you. You must know that you're… You're very special to me.”

“Surely you know—”

“If things were different..." He almost seems to be unaware of you speaking, completely drowning in his mind. “If we were home, I’d have taken the time to do this properly. To say it all better, but time is short… I’m in love with you.” Fireflies dance around your bodies as you dry the tears from your cheeks. You cannot help but notice the fabricated sky illuminating his skin, doing nothing to conceal the signs of his age, nor does it hide the fear behind his eyes. He is wholly imperfect; wrinkles line his forehead, small patches of gray streak through messy strands of brown hair, his eyes are wet with tears that he forbids to escape, and his hubris, which will damn him to the Hells one day, has left his body brittle, but he is Gale, and he is nothing short of remarkable in your eyes. He is wearing his heart on his sleeve; he is unzipping his chest, showing you what rattles inside of his ribcage, and silently begging you to stitch him back together when the dust settles and…

And he is looking to you for an answer, despite having never asked a question.

“You surely must know my affections are the same.” His eyebrows unfurl and relax at your words, a visible weight taken from his shoulders. “Stay. Stay here, by my side, and show me how special I am. Show me what it is you deem worthy of loving.” For what seems like the one thousandth time, your eyes lock. All traces of doubt, anger, and fear have given way to purely ardent love.

While Gale believes he will spend the rest of his life at war with himself if he chooses to defy Mystra, he knows it will be a life well lived if it is to be spent at your side. Damn Mystra, damn the Gods and Goddesses, damn the entire world; his calling will be found nowhere that is not beside you.

Words, once again, fall from his lips before he knows what they will be: “May I kiss you?”

“As long as it is not a parting kiss.”

“Never.”

a/n: part 2 will prob take me 2025982 yrs but it will have smut :3

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale fanfic #bg3 spoilers #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #baldur's gate gale

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 years

Text

Yandere Gangster

CW: NSFW, lap riding(GN reader), wounds/bruises, kidnapping, manipulation, gang activities

Yandere gangster who forces you to grind down on his lap as you're bandaging him up. What, you expect him to sit through all this pain without some form of relief? All he wants is his cute little victim spouse to make him feel good. It's the least you could do after all your hitting and screaming he's had to deal with since he "brought you home." You ask in disbelief how he could be worried about getting off after narrowly escaping being shot at. But he doesn't care for your protests.

Yandere gangster who threatens you without wavering, his beaten body only fueling his short temper. Maybe his buddies should get a round with you, as punishment for still having not learned your place. And that threat is more than enough to get you hesitantly inching towards his bloody pants. He already has them unbuttoned, black boxers hiding a bulge that pulses. But once you sit down, feeling him flex and poke from below, you're fully aware of how hot and bothered he's become. You try to focus on wrapping gauze around his bicep with his arm lowering to grip your waist.

Yandere gangster who whispers, "Move your hips" as he gently humps upward. You do as your told, whether more out of fear or out of the desire to get this over with, you aren't sure. But your kidnapper isnt bothered, too focused on the inpatient arousal inside of him. He sucks in through his teeth each time you pour antiseptic on an open cut, but he doesnt seem to mind the pain as long as you kept softly thrusting. He gets even more eager once his free hand pushes yours down towards his erection. You see the healed scars on his lower abdomen as his shirt pushes upward. They were sickingly familiar, as you had seen them everytime you were forced to "service" him like this.

Yandere gangster who you dont doubt would try to kiss you right now if it weren't for the bruises flourishing on his skin. You stare at his beaten face, a stream of dried blood down his nose as the cuts on his lips reopen when he bites them. Your hands become shakey the more he thrusts into your palm and against your groin, his bouncing legs making it harder to patch up his wounds. The sweat dripping down his chest, his slicked back hair now wild and free, it made him look more deranged than before. He was like a wild animal, starved and only interested in the meal in front of him. "Keep going." He huffs, and you aren't sure if hes talking about your work on his bruised knuckles or your hips that have been rocking back and forth.

Yandere gangster who uses you as the perfect stress toy, one that helps him get off with your soft body and oh so gentle fingers. His head leans back in the chair, lazily rocking upward as the friction becomes a desirable pressure. He cant help but feel he deserves this, after all his hard work and the time it took to get you here. Once you finish with the worst of his cuts and bruises, patching up everything to the best of your ability, you attempt to get off his lap. He's gotten what he wanted, right? A little pleasure to help keep off the pain. But you were sorely mistaken to think that would be the end of it.

Yandere gangster who lives up to his name, growling and cursing through his teeth, daring to pull out his switchblade the more you struggled to leave. He always had a short fuse, but today was no comparison. Waving the knife around he shot vulgar threat after threat, nearly nicking you. You didn't doubt hed cut you if push came to shove, having the scars to prove his past lack of patience. You still remembered how they burned, how he slid the blade painfully slow, refusing to clean you up until he got what he wanted. And so, what choice did you have? You only hoped that if you went faster, forcing him to come undone, he may end up too distracted. But you knew your captor, and wishful thinking never got you anywhere.

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n3ptoonz · 5 months

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How’d u think earth realm boys would react to their wife telling me there ready for kids 🎤

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to their wife being ready for kids

warnings/tags: suggestive, fluff, female reader obv

Liu Kang

The way you brought it up was so subtle and casual. It was during his downtime, which was kinda rare. A simple "Hey...I think I'm ready to have children." and Liu is looking at you with surprised eyes and a full heart.

Being the kind of man Liu is, and how busy his life has become since being appointed as a god, this man set an exact date and time where there would be zero distractions. All his focus and effort was on you. And in you (ba dum tss)

So be prepared for a long night of passion, love, lust, and care. Cause you're not leaving that bed until you've gotten every last drop

Doesn't mind the gender. Boy, girl, he would love them just the same. Hell, even if it was more than one child at once, he wouldn't hesitate to give them the world.

Smoke

You mentioned it while you two were cuddled up on the couch. Little did you know how red his face turned until you felt his heart beat increase in real time, looking up at him with his genuine concern.

At first you thought he was nervous or probably didn't want to, and once he saw your slight frown he immediately countered that thought. He was so excited he froze. Endless reassurance from him until you verbally say you got it.

Did you think he wouldn't nervously suggest you start as soon as possible?? Pish posh, you are sad- happily mistaken. "Why not try right now?" he said, except he's stuttering over his own words and sweating profusely. No matter how many times you've been intimate with one another, he's always nervous around you <3

Gender doesn't matter to him either, however he does lean more on the side of a daughter. Simply because he'd die at the sight of a little girl running around the house that looked like you. If you had a son though, he'd be sure he doesn't meet ol uncle Bi Han bro would prob try to recruit

Johnny Cage

What if I told you he brought the idea to you one day as a "joke" and you're immediately like "That's crazy, I was going to say the same thing!"? You both looked at each other with narrowed eyes before making a run for it to the bedroom

Less talk, more action. It's safe to say y'all were up all night, touchin', lovin', going multiple rounds to the point where you forgot the entire reason for heading straight to bed. But hey, who's complaining? Johnny promised to tap that at the earliest opportunity (yes, i went there)

He SWORE that cowgirl and mating press were the "only efficient ways" to make sure you'd definitely get pregnant. As if going raw wasn't enough already-

Daughter. He wants a daughter. Give the man a daughter. He won't shut up about being a girl dad when you aren't even a month in yet. He's practicing dad jokes. Even coming up with ones that are tailored to daughters. Has a CVS receipt list of girl names and the only one you both decided that was perfect is "Cassandra/Cassie" (wink) He CANNOT wait to have another favorite girl in his life to spoil!

Raiden

It was after training. You finished first and watched him complete his, and the idea came to you while he was helping one of the younger recruits. You just laid it on him without warning: "I think we should have kids." and cue him almost spitting out his water. Was he dreaming?!

Another nervous one who blushed and stuttered a bunch upon trying to conjure up a response. The thought of having a child with you has been on his mind for some time now and it's like you read his mind, he just didn't want to overwhelm you.

Speaking of overwhelming, that was all out the window once you got home. Going from a peaceful walk to a heated make out session on a matter of seconds. Not to mention, you both had a longgg day of training and could use a shower...why not save some money on the water bill!

Raiden is too good with all types of kids to really have a preference. Growing up with his little sister AND kung lao gave him experience on both sides

Kung Lao

After your weekly sparring session, you got to thinking. You're already married, you've seen him handle kids and younger people well, and most of all he looks so damn hot when he's sweaty and out of breath. Not an unfamiliar sight to you at all!

It was when you two went to Madam Bo's for a good after-spar meal when you slyly threw it into the conversation. Mid bite, he couldn't help but back up from his food and look at you with that classic smirk he does and his dimples are fully visible (currently dying at this imagery.) And he'd end up saying something cocky but playful like "You think I'd oppose you carrying the next great Kung Lao?"

Got straight to it when you got home. Luckily you had already showered after the session, otherwise the water bill would've been looking like a traditional Chinese scroll after you were done. Prepare for his teasing, flirtatiousness, and pride to be multiplied by a thousand

I feel like he'd want a boy, and we all know why. He's not at all opposed to the idea of having a daughter. But if your first child was a daughter, you're going back to that king sized mattress once you've fully healed and trying again! (who's complaining 🤨)

Kenshi Takahashi

He had come home from a long day of a series of trips and tasks given by Liu Kang. You were in the kitchen brewing some tea late at night just because when you heard him come in. He wasn't exhausted, but you could tell he just wanted to drop everything and spend all his time with you the way he plopped down at the dining table.

When you offered food he politely declined since he had already eaten earlier. But he could sense something else was on your mind by the slight shift in your tone. Being visually impaired, his auditory has improved considerably since. "Is something on your mind?" he asked. "I think we should have kids." you responded, sitting next to him with your cup of tea.

He was at full attention now, whatever tired him from the day vanished just like that. You took his silence as uncertainty, so as you began to start listing the pros and benefits, he quickly cut you off with a "Let's do it." "Seriously?" you said, just to make sure you heard him. He stood and took your hand in his, "I'm very serious. We can start tonight, tomorrow, next week. The sooner the better." (hey, starting tonight didn't sound like a bad idea 😮‍💨)

He says he doesn't really stress the gender, but he'd like a son. Kenshi would adore your child under any circumstance, but being an only child (idk if that's canon but it's gonna be today XD) who practically raised most of his younger cousins who mostly consisted of girls, he gets a little giddy at the thought of having an older son younger daughter dynamic around the house.

Sub Zero

With how busy he is all the time and how even more tense he's become since the rift, it was a little difficult to find a way to get his undivided attention. However, the whole reason he married you is because you don't take any shit. You voiced your opinions and concerns whenever you deemed fit, and it never got in his way. So, you waltzed into his office on a mission.

It was one of the few times he wasn't running around or training his heart out. He just got done talking to Cyrax when you walked in looking as determined as the day you met. He knows you never interrupt him unless it's something terribly important. At a moment's notice, he gestured for Cyrax to leave so you could speak your peace.

"What is it?" he asked. You made sure the door was securely closed behind you before walking over to sit in his lap. He was quite surprised but also would be lying if he claimed he didn't enjoy it. "Let's have kids." you said. He always told you to be blunt with him about anything, and this was no exception. "Alright." he replied, seldom reason to say no, especially to the love of his life.

Bi Han would for sure want a son. He's set on carrying on tradition, even if he did oppose some of his late father's views. If you had a daughter as your first born, like Kung Lao y'all aren't stopping until you had a son. Though, he knows he will have to learn to raise your kids better than how he was raised. He'd rather die than ever neglect or overwork his children. Plus, you wouldn't have any of that anyway.

Scorpion

Despite being busy a lot as the head of his new clan, he always makes time for you. All his down time was yours unless you said otherwise. You were giving fighting advice to a recruit when Kuai approached you, a gentle warm hand on your shoulder. Earlier in the day, you said you wanted to talk in his free time

After excusing yourself and talking to him on the way to his office, you wasted no time laying it on him. "Kuai...I think we're ready for kids." He stops in his tracks and looks directly into your eyes. "...You're sure about this?" he asks softly, taking your hands in his with the most gentle gaze you've ever seen from him. He's been thinking about this for a while now, but didn't know how to bring it up. Your approving nod with a smile set his heart ablaze with happiness.

Because of his busy schedule, like some of the other kombatants with a lot on their plate, there's a set day and time. And once that time comes...it's tiimmeee (mariah carey voice) That night is gonna be filled with romance and deep love for one another.

Kuai wants a boy. He, like Kenshi, wants the older son and younger daughter dynamic, but for no particular reason. He just likes it. His feelings wouldn't change if your first kid was a girl though, the older daughter younger son dynamic would remind him of how his mother treated Tomas when they were kids before she passed.

a/n: as a mf who doesn't even want kids, this was so fun and cute to write omg😭ty anon for the idea! remember y'all my asks are open and i'd be down to do x or 11 if you want! just clarify pls <3

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