#there is a tension knot in my neck that’s going to turn about a month old now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grogusmum · 1 month

Text

IRL

Part 3 @han_shot_first

JAVI X F!PLUS SIZE!READER

SUMMARY: Set before the events of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. Javi and Reader are friends online, and after a year of DMing they decide to meet. (The only change is Javi and Gabriela are just friends)

WORD COUNT: 1800ish

WARNINGS: Reader has insecurities about her size and appearance. Javi is adorable, be warned. Things get spicy.

Part 2

“Girasol,” he whispers; voice husky. Your knees go a little watery not only from the want in Javi’s voice for you but for the sweet nickname, sunflower.

His warm, plush lips taste your mouth, chin, and neck. Tickling behind your ear, you had never kissed anyone with a mustache or much facial hair. It tickles and rasps over your soft skin deliciously, especially your neck, causing your shoulder to jump with a smiling gasp.

Being pressed against the wall was also new to you like this gorgeous man can't get enough of you and needs to be as close as he can possibly get. One hand is cradling your jaw; the other travels from your hip under your sweater, where he has found that the dress is sleeveless. He hums, pleased by his discovery. You try not to feel emotional and keep the thought - thank you. Thank you for being attracted to me, even though… inside your head. But it brings up some tears that you blink away.

The moment you open your eyes, the lights flicker, signaling you to return to the theater.

“Javi?”

“Hmmm?” He murmurs, distracted by devouring your neck.

“The next film-”

He pulls away as the lights flicker again.

“We will pick this up back at the hotel,” he rumbles.

Javi takes your hand and leads the way to the theater. Since you are among the last to sit, Javi looks and tugs you toward the back of the theater. He noticed your glassy eyes when he pulled away. He wonders if he overstepped.

After you settle into your seat-

“I'm sorry,” Javi looks at you with his puppiest eyes.

“For?”

“Well, I- for,” Javi struggles. “ Maybe I was too forward, and now we don't have good se-”

You smile; Javi really is the sweetest.

“Javi, I have never been so turned on in my life,” you murmur in his ear, and his face breaks into a broad smile, his eyes dancing.

While the rest of the day flies and is more fun than you've had in a long time, every once and a while, you get a little in your head when hobnobbing with “the beautiful people.” But somehow, Javi seems to feel it every time, and he brings you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, murmuring a sweet check-in.

Online, late at night, you would talk and talk, and you thought you felt a tension in the last month before planning to meet, but you always half-heartedly dismissed it. And when you saw his picture, you wholeheartedly dismissed it. How can someone like him…but here you both are. He doesn't even see the other women. Javi has at least one hand on you at all times. Holding your hand or on your thigh with his thumb chasing little circles during the films and Q&As, his arm wrapped around your waist during intermission. This new layer to your relationship is exciting, if a little scary.

All you have been thinking about since the alcove is getting back to the hotel, but as Javi checks you both in, your traitorous brain starts to race; you know Javi is a good guy, he would never just presume, and if you put on the brakes he would respect that…but now that it's here. It's not that you don't want to; you want to, by the gods, do you. But what if he doesn't like what he sees when you are, quite literally, laid bare?

Javi returns with the key cards, his stomach knots in new and exciting ways.

“It's a two-bedroom penthouse suite,”he murmurs, primarily to his feet. He can feel the tips of his ears going hot, “I got them before - but you know, if you don't - I mean, if we-”

Javi doesn't know what you are thinking. But he can easily see the anxiety scrawled across you. But he doesn't know what has you in this state—

Watching him, you can see his effort. To keep you comfortable, respecting your boundaries, and he keeps showing you he is attracted to you, all of you.

So you tell your liar of a brain to shut up for once, and your first finger goes gently under his chin, tipping his head to look at you.

“Javi? Please take me upstairs.”

This is when Javi’s brain short circuits.

The penthouse is, of course, gorgeous, just as Javi hoped. There’s a fireplaced living room, with the spread of chocolate-covered strawberries, soft cheeses, warm crusty bread, and the champagne he asked for on a coffee table.

“Javi! This is, does this just come with penthouse suites or…”

“There are always, well, ‘amenities,’ but um, I asked for your favorites.”

“When?”

“As soon as you said you’d come to visit.”

“But-”

“I know it was a little bold of me, but I - sort of had this big plan to try to win your heart this weekend. But like I said, I got two rooms, I wasn’t, you know, ‘expecting something’,” All of this comes out in a rush, but Javi takes a breath and slows down, his eyes taking in your lovely face.

“‘Han Shot First’, I’ve been having feelings for you for a long, long time.”

It's your face’s turn to warm, as romantic as his nickname Girasol is, as beautiful as it makes you feel... There's something about him using your url handle at this moment - the name he knew before he had seen your picture… You fling your arms around him, and without hesitation, his mouth seals to yours. His hand goes to your cardigan, peeling it off. Before you can have another wave of anxiety, the groan Javi lets loose as his hands run up and down your upper arms and around your back settles your qualms. He presses you as close to him as he can without occupying the same space, thus defying the laws of physics.

“Girasol”, Javi murmurs. “I can't believe how lucky I am.”

His hands rove your back, hips, and backside. You keep beating back your traitorous brain, so you can just enjoy how this feels. He likes everything he's touching.

One of his hands comes to the side of your face, holding you tight in his kiss.

“May I undress you?”

Javi begins unbuttoning your dress, his hands so sure at every button. He pulls back the top of the dress off your shoulders, and his needy kisses travel from one to the other, stopping to enjoy your collarbones and the hollow of your throat. Then he lets the dress fall, a circle at your feet. You slip his blue blazer off his shoulders and start unbuttoning his shirt. You peek back at his face to see adoration.

You nod, and the look he gave you in the alcove returns causes a pleasant zing in your lower belly.

Javi becomes impatient and brings his arms hurriedly out of his sleeves, and pulls you against him once more, his arms wrapped around your waist. With urgent kisses, he walks you backward until your calves hit the bed.

Giving a yip as you drop onto it, a nervous giggle bubbles up, and you take a breath, eyes closed. Mirroring your action in the lobby, Javi's curled forefinger gently lifts your face to him.

“I am enamored with every inch of you, Girasol. Every last inch.”

Against your will, your eyes swim, so that is where Javi decides to start in his worship. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brush the tears away. Pressing kisses to your cheeks.

Your hands rest on his narrow hips as you look up at this beautiful man, this silly, passionate, delightful man.

He wants me, you think, all of me.

Your hands travel up his sun-kissed torso, the sweet curve of his belly, but just as your hands settle on his chest, he has your shoulders, pressing them to the bed. And this was that moment you feared, laid out on the bed. Suddenly Javi’s got you behind your knees with those enormous paws of his, and with a quick and decisive pull, he's got your ass at the edge of the bed and thighs over his broad shoulders, and you can feel his breath at your core.

“Javi!” Breath quickening, you are pretty sure you almost came from being moved like that; you don’t get “thrown around”

Javi's hands run up your thighs, his thumbs massage the crease where your hip meets them -

“Did you like that, Girasol?”

💚 THANKS FOR READING 💚

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

If you enjoyed this fic and would like to read for Javi or any of my works, click the link to my masterlist. If you would like to get tagged for any of my fics, click the link to my taglist form.

#javi gutiérrez #javi g #javi gutiérrez x plus size!f!reader #javi gutiérrez x you #javi gutiérrez x reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez

111 notes · View notes

lokisrealpurpous · 26 days

Text

cramps

loki x reader with endometriosis

warnings: mention of blood, mentions of periods, extremely bad period pain.

lokis fiancé has always struggled with her endometriosis, the pain leading her every month to passing out, throwing up or sometimes even in hospital and he dreaded knowing there was nothing he could do, but he finds a way.

this is for all my endometriosis girlies , as someone who has it themselves I wish it was spoke about more and that doctors didn't neglet it so much, getting forced to go on the pill and never given a remedy since 10yrs old is a horrible experience. My heart goes out to you all. If you'd like more like this, maybe small headshots of him looking after you in hospital or how he reacts when you faint, then please send requests or comment x

Loki's pov

I had arrived late from the mission I had so desperately been trying to get back from after seeing the 4 missed calls and 18 text messages left from my fiancé. I couldn't check the messages, being in a jet so high up there was only little WiFi, which was all being used by stark, so I sat in the back anxiously, merely muttering a word as i begged the trusted gods above me to keep her safe before I get to her.

I knocked gently before bursting into our bedroom, I was frantic and worried, adrenaline rushing through my veins before I stilled, seeing her lay on the bed, curled around a hot water bottle. Her face was flushed red, and her teeth were gritted. Her hair was a mess, and the blankets her tangled around her. The pill bottle on the side was empty, and the sickbowl on the other was not.

"heya dove..."

I whisper, slowly coming up beside the bed, pulling down some of the blanket that covered her pale but flustered face teasingly before sitting beside her, bringing her weak form in my arms and kissing her forehead.

"is it your cramps?"

I whisper again, running my hands through her knotted hair, untangling it gently.

She nods slowly against my chest, finally looking up at me so I could see her entire face. It was tearburnt and swollen.

"Oh darling..."

I take her face in my hands, rubbing her cheek softly with my thumb. I lift her up, bringing her further into my lap and wrapping my arms around her waist as they find her lower abdomen, I massage the area gently while kissing her neck.

"This good?"

I mumble and she nods again, leaning against my chest. I felt the guilt twist in my stomach that I wasn't able to get here earlier during her flare up, I was proud she managed to find her medication and get herself a sickness bowl, but the thought of her having to do all that while in absolute agony, then to be sick without me to hold her hair and rub her stomach, i never wanted to leave her side again.

"I was fine."

I hear her croak out.

"I don't always need my knight in shining armour my love, I know how to take care of myself."

I let a sigh of relief before kissing her neck, still massaging her lower stomach.

"I know princess, I just worry."

She chuckles, turning her head up to kiss my lips, then laying between my legs, her head resting on my chest, humming as I eased the tension in her belly.

It didn't take long for her fall asleep on top of me, and not long for myself either once switching off the crystal lamp beside us.

your pov 2:27am

I sat up, taking in the shadows of darkness that surrounded me as I reached across my lover's body to turn on the bedside lamp.

my hand flies to my mouth as I let out a groan of pain, not at all wanting to wake loki up, then slipping out of his embrace towards the bathroom until I realised the sheets and my brand new baby-pink nightgown.

'shit shit shit'

I mutter, stood in the middle of the dimly lit room, clutching onto my stomach as tears begin to well in my eyes.

I cover my mouth with both my hands now, pressing hard to stop the sobs escaping. The pain was unbearable as I held onto my dresser, my new gown and sheets were stained crimson, loki layed right next to the mess on our mattress, I had no medication left and I would not make it down the stairs to make myself a bottle.

wake him up.

I kept telling myself, but I couldn't bring myself to do so.

Before I could act upon a single thought, however, a wave of nausea crashed over me as the pain stabbed at my stomach, feeling as if my uterus was collapsing in on itself. I desperately ran to the toilet, holding onto the seat and puking into the bowl. My stomach churned and tightened as I gagged.. another meal rising up my throat.

Every spiralling worry stopped when I felt his hands run through my hair, pulling it out my face and using the band that was in just in his hair to tie mine in a tight ponytail.

He knelt beside me, rubbing my back and whispering things I couldn't make sense of at the moment with the pain still cursing me.

"Loki..."

I sob, gagging over the toilet but not being sick.

He continued rubbing, kissing my head and making sure I'm sat comftable, I didn't even realise how he had put me in his lap.

"nghh.."

I groan, holding onto my stomach, my hands gripping and the area and pulling and pushing, I didn't know what I was doing but I just wanted the pain off... I couldn't bare it...

"Lokiiiiii"

I groan again, my voice strained in pain.

"P...please"

My voice cracks, tears spilling down my cheeks. Once he realised my scratching hands, he pulled them away slowly, replacing them with his own and massaging again.

I let out a whimper of pain.

"Shhh shh shh... trust me my darling, just relax"

He coos, rocking me side to side in his arms.

My eyes suddenly widen as I feel his palms heat up to the perfect temputure as he continues kneeding my skin.

I whine, leaning against him, the pain fading with every movement of his huge hands that now had mine wrapped around them. He dosent stop, just whispering words of affirmation in my ears and swaying me with himself as my eyes began to flutter shut, my body finally feeling at ease and calm.

"That's it..."

I hear him whisper as he lifts me in his arms, hands still on my belly..

"You're okay love, ive got you"

He says as he lies me in a bed, the sheets changed and fresh, and a new nightgown dressing my body with the flash of a small green light.

How he does it I will never know but I do know that him, and his mother's parenting, will always be there to guide me through terrible nights like this.

"I love you Lo..." I whisper as I feel my body sink into the mattress and a kiss on my lips, large arms wrapping around my waist.

"I love you more, my darling.."

He replies with another kiss, then turns the lamp off, keeping his hands on my abdomen throughout the early morning till dawn.

102 notes · View notes

violetmina · 2 months

Text

Chokehold - Ch. 11

Chokehold Masterlist

Accepting taglist requests!

Taglist: @roundroald @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @sexytholland @scraftsku35 @avastrasposts @missihart23 @ladyvillainous @elementress44 @haibara-ai-tsii @123passwort @sanscas @lulzbrokenbyfantasy @icantevenchoose @marksassybanana @a-rogue-tiddy-bot @itsyellow @lmarina2000 @d3adite666 @casualfansoul @missrandomheart @cvstle @elianamarie-blog @1970sbitch @depressed-but-make-it-cute @loversjoy @raktajinoaddict @trisaratops-mcgee

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,623

Warning: Swearing, adult themes, sexual tension and...well, Butcher.

A/N: I'm back~! Its finally here! After several months, the next chapter of this series! I promised that I would not abandon it, and I meant it. If it feels off in any way, I do apologize. And many thanks to all of you for your support and your patience. If I forgot anyone that wanted to be on the taglist, please let me know asap so I can fix it.

Two things ripped you from sleep that morning. The first was your final alarm blaring from the coffee table. The second was the abrupt awareness of a particular body missing behind you. The combination of the two had your muscles spasming into a flailing upright position, immediately revealing a slight kink in your neck as your brain tried to catch up. Your fingers fumble and flutter over the table in search of the obnoxious sound coming from your phone. Just as your hand starts to slap against the wood in groggy frustration, your eyes just make out a different set of fingers.

“Billy?” It comes out cracked and garbled from sleep.

The alarm dies quickly under his fingers and the blur in your vision shifts in time to bring him into focus, kneeling before you beside the couch. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets you with that crooked smile. “Gotta tell ya, I hear that alarm again, I'm throwing your fucking phone through the wall.”

“You -ah!” You wince as your neck twinges sharp at your attempt to swing your legs to the floor.

“Yeah, your couch did the same number on me,” he mutters. He slips his fingers to your nape, rubbing the smallest of circles there, just on the new knot. It's brief, his hand withdrawing before you can even sink into it, reaching back to bring forward a cup of coffee.

“Here. Can't send you off to Hughie with bags like that under your eyes.”

You give your thanks, taking a long draw before turning back to him. “Speaking of not looking so good, what about-?”

“Nuh-uh.” He wags back a finger at you as he stands to head out of the living room. “We had a deal. You're done playing nurse.”

You roll your eyes, knowing full well you're not going to argue with this mule. Butcher appears unfazed from the previous night's events, strutting in your apartment as his usual. The only outward indication of his escapade was the faintest peek of the liquid stitches on his head and the missing Hawaiian atrocity the blue t-shirt replaced. A very good looking replacement if anyone bothered for your opinion. But bravado and machismo are not enough to throw off what you already know - he was probably bluffing.

Taking a full gulp of coffee, you shuffle behind him towards your kitchen. The pizza box sits empty and abandoned on your counter. But next to it Butcher rifles through an unfamiliar bag, pulling out to-go boxes.

“You brought me breakfast in bed?,” you ask, smirk tight against the rim of your mug.

“Breakfast on couch,” Butcher replies without missing a beat, sliding warm styrofoam towards you before hooking a palm onto your hip. “Since ya made such a point of avoiding your bed.”

“Actually it was you making a point of avoiding my bed. You did say you wouldn't go near it if I wasn't in it, did you not?”

“Awfully cheeky for just starting that coffee.” He pushes away from the counter and pulls you in as you shrug in response. “And we could remedy that in a hurry, yeah? Being in your bed, I mean.”

“I, on the other hand,” you continue, bluntly brushing off the reply, “was avoiding sinful acts so as not to kill you.”

“Not a bad way to go, innit?” Butcher manages to wrap his arm around your back without sloshing your morning brew over either of you.

“Maybe not. But I'd hate to traumatize the others with the vivid details of what you look like naked,” you grin.

“Fuck off,” he hums before hushing you with a kiss. Then, purring into your ear, “You still haven't answered me…Your bed?”

Butcher doesn't give you much of a chance to respond. Not verbally that is. He kisses you again, longer, firmer. Warm steadily turning to hot, a slow delicious simmer. Your free hand slips along his side, just hitching under the hem to brush skin, and you can't remember this shirt feeling this soft. But you're not going to forget now.

Until he gives you something else to remember.

Butcher's grip on your hip grows firmer, and when you part your lips in invitation, his response is no different than how he handles much else - he does not hesitate. He delves to taste and you're quickly preoccupied with his own, enough to kiss back with more fervor. He nips your bottom lip and you know it's still not safe for him, not really. The concussion is still a danger…but you feel your bed pull at you like his fingers starting to tug at your jeans.

Until his phone buzzes loudly in his pocket.

“Billy…”

He shakes his head, whiskers whispering against your face. “It's nuthin’,” he breathes between kisses. “So? This a yes, lov-”

Another buzz.

You catch his wrist as he rips the cell from his pocket, barely saving the offensive thing from a warp speed trip across your apartment. When yours buzzes too on the other side of the room, the noise that rumbles out of him makes you bite your lip. He leans back from you snarling to the roof, “Fuckin’ cockblocks every fuckin’ one of ‘em!”

“That confident were you?” It comes out just a tad breathless.

He stabs a brief glare at you with a snort before finally looking over the interrupting notification. “Surprise, surprise. Hughie.”

“What did he say?”

“New orders, new case. And a little under the table meeting. Same bullshit,” Butcher grumbles. “I'm sure yours is near identical.” He looks up at you, some of the frustration leaving his face to give you a hint of a smile. “All things considered, I'm guessing you'd like me to let him know we'll be each other's plus one to the meeting?”

Butcher gives a little wink before you place your hand over his phone. His hint of humor falters when he sees you staring with furrowed brow at the text message waiting to be answered.

“...No.”

His face mirrors yours. “No? No what?”

You look up at him, shaking your head.

He stares for only a second. Then, “Ah, I get it. I'm your new dirty secret, eh? That it?”

“No,” you reply louder, more abrupt. Had that been the tiniest edge on his playful tone? You look up at him, shaking your head. “I didn't mean that. You're not that. I mean I don't know what you - we-!”

Something twitches in his face at ‘we’, something that makes part of you flinch, and you take a breath before speaking. “What I meant,” you answer slowly, “is that we shouldn't say anything just yet. Not to the others. I don't want anyone thinking that I didn't earn my place here, pull my weight. Especially Hughie.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“He's already shown me once how quickly he can change his mind, even more so when it comes to me doing field work. I hope I won't need you to speak to him on my behalf. But if I do, how much will your word weigh to him if he thinks it's only because we're past being friends…coworkers…what have you…”

You trail off on that thought, cutting back to the point. “Anyway, more importantly, we've got a big mission here. And I think it would be best if the team has no questions or doubts about where everybody's heads are at. No distractions. Right?”

Butcher gives a slow nod as your words sink in. “That'd be the thing they'd do wouldn't it?” Then with a humorless laugh, “Like they don't question me, bust my balls enough already. And Hughie!” He makes a tsking sound. “Yeah, none of that. We'll deal with this Persuasion business proper first.”

He nods and makes a quick reply to Hughie before sliding his cell back into his pocket. “I best get a move on, meet up with MM while it's still early. And you best get your ass in gear. You need to keep an eye on the congresswoman.”

Butcher smirks as he shrugs on his coat. “Real shame,” he drawls, giving you a long, parting kiss before beginning to back to your door. “Still wouldn't have minded breaking your bed.”

“Could've died,” you sing-song at him.

“Sounds like a good way to go.”

“Sounds like you're trying to tell me you wouldn't be worth a second round,” you tease.

Butcher shakes his head, a dark, heavy look rolling in his eyes at your sass. “When did I ever say it’d take only one round?” He pauses in your door. “That's a shame, love. I thought you knew me better than that.”

With a smirk your way and a glance over your apartment, he closes the door. You let out a sigh somewhere between relief and disappointment, picking at your to-go box as you remember the coffee somehow still in your hand. “Not yet,” you smile in response to his parting words.

As you eat the breakfast Butcher had delivered, you did your best to focus on the little spark of excitement in you, and ignore the last look he'd given your apartment. Ignore the sharp flicker he'd given the windows.

^^^

“We got one!”

You nearly jump as a news article slaps onto your desk. Hughie beams down at you, almost smug before sliding it closer to you. “Got one?”

“A supe. That fungi one, what's-his-face -”

“Cordycep?”

“Yep,” Hughie grins. “The asshole who was caught spraying those spores everywhere to hypnotize people. His case finally went to the judge. And the judge threw the book at him.”

You skim over the article as he leans against your cubicle wall, clearly pleased. “You're not kidding. Found guilty of all twenty-six counts of fraud, identity and grand theft, and forgery.”

“Every single one,” he says. “A long sentence. And no chance of parole at this time, or bail. We did that. We did that!”

You suppress a laugh as he takes back the article with a fist in the air. “That's kinda the point, isn't it? That's why the bureau exists.”

“I don't mean the bureau. I mean us,” he replies. Then he continues with earnest, “I know that the team has been kinda frustrated lately. We covered this case, and several like it, and it feels like we've been trying to climb shit mountain every time. But this shows that it's working. We're making a difference. And we didn't have to scrub blood out of our clothes to do it.”

“This time,” you emphasize. “We didn't have to this time. Forgive me for raining on your parade a little. But let's keep a little pragmatism here. Cordycep was a push over. Most of the supes aren't.”

He waves you off but you still notice the slight slump in his shoulders. “Whatever. Point is that we are making a little progress.”

You feel a twinge of guilt for being a bit of a realist on him. But despite that, part of you wants to celebrate with him. There has been progress for both the Boys and the bureau. Slow, grinding, frustrating progress. But still progress. Although, if Butcher were the one to measure, you would be found short today. You hadn't been able to keep an eye on Neuman as intended. Even those at work had only seen her in passing glimpses by her office.

With that in mind, you lower your voice just slightly. “Speaking of progress, are we still going over reports tonight with the team? That quarterly thing?”

Hughie nods as he straightens a little, eyes scanning for the congresswoman. “Yep. Right. Quarterly reports. Gotta make sure we're within budget and all that.”

“And are Annie and I still on for girls night?,” you ask, absently shuffling through some files. Not like you care what they are.

“Yes. Actually she hinted that she might - might - be able to stop by tonight. You know, say hello. Iron out some stuff for your upcoming bonding time.”

That certainly puts a little edge in you. You'd be lying to yourself if you thought you weren't hesitant about how the meeting would go. Yes, the whole mission and its variables were certainly part of that. But so was the fact that you now had to keep pretending like nothing was going on between you and Butcher, jiu jitsu or otherwise. Throw in the ever looming threat of Neuman's shadow, and the mutual disdain to put it politely between Annie and Butcher…

“That sounds great,” you smile wanely. “Is everybody else in on that particular detail?”

“Butcher knows,” Hughie deadpans.

“And how many new expletives did you learn from him after telling him?”

“None. Not yet, I mean. He's probably composing a whole list to shove down my throat after the meeting as we speak.”

“Wrapped with a C4 wire bow, I'm sure,” you smirk at him. You slap three files into his chest. “Here. You'll need those for tonight.”

He glares at the manila as if it's offended him while he thumbs the pages. “The hell is this?”

“Budget reports.” Your expression goes flat when his remains confused. “Neuman would want you to have those for the meeting…?”

A beat passes before you see the light bulb come on. “Oh,” he smiles sheepishly. “Riiight. Need those.”

“...How the hell are you my boss again?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles before pushing away from your cubicle to avoid the return of your smirk. Before he dips out of sight he peeps around the corner one more time. “Oh, by the way…”

“Yeah?”

Hughie spares a genuine smile. “I just wanted to let you know that, uh…I'm glad you're working again. You're kicking ass already.”

Fondness fills your chest and you return the smile before he jokingly barks an order to “kick those papers asses!”, and heads further into the bureau. You sigh at the small mountain of work on your desk before dragging a file towards you.

Kicking more ass than you know, Hughie. Just you wait.

^^^

Homelander's too-piercing blue eyes stare at you through a thin veil of false contrition as you stare back from your seat in the Flatiron. The act is thinner than a blade's edge, and you're grateful for the filter of the LCD screen and a brown-nosed interviewer hired by Vought between you - and everyone this side of the screen - and the supe. It's the second time you've seen it air today, but it still irks as bad as the first time as Homelander lays his woes and regret about Stormfront for the first time publicly since she'd been “apprehended”.

“Fuck him,” Frenchie mutters, snapping your attention away from the TV and back to the crew. He snaps off the TV just as viciously. “And fuck that nazi bitch, whatever is left of her.”

“Can we focus?,” MM asks at his desk, his fingertips burrowing deep in his temples. “We got a lot to cover and very little time to do it.”

Hughie heaves a sigh and nods, looking at each of those present to recollect the room as he stands in the center of it. “He's right. We gotta crunch these last numbers. I'll make it quick. Let's see…MM is good on the books. You submitted that last bit of papers for that druid-wannabe supe, right?”

“Yes. Ready for you to hand off to your attorneys.”

Hughie flashes a thumbs up before turning to the seats near your desk. “Cool. Frenchie, Kimiko. Looks like I just need that last budgeting sheet for…is this a flamethrower? This looks suspiciously like a flamethro- why?”

Kimiko signs before Frenchie grins, “Research purposes.”

You hold back a snicker as Hughie presses on. “Fuck, fine, whatever. Mallory can deal with that, I guess. So that just leaves-”

“Yours truly.” Butcher's chair creaks next to you at his desk, opposite side of Kimiko, as he swivels slowly with a bit of impatience. “It's all there, mate. Double checked the numbers me self.”

“All of it?,” Hughie presses. “Your ammo and armory form was off a couple digits last month.”

“Yep. Even corrected the pornhub subscription cost on the miscellaneous page.”

“Okay, okay. That was lovely news,” Hughie grimaces as everyone else shares a chuckle. “Bleaching that from my mind and moving on. Budgeting is done. Now for the real meeting.” He glances back and forth between Butcher and MM. “Any new leads on Persuasion or Walsh?”

“Only that Walsh is hiring third party goons to try to keep Vought from crawling up his ass. Ambushed me at the club the girl talked about,” Butcher shrugs. “Patched myself up away from the hospitals, so we don't have any tails there.”

Your mind slips into the memory of your fingers running through Butcher's damp locks. It hazes briefly at the memory of calloused hands and warm lips before you remind yourself that there's a reason you and Butcher are not sitting directly next to each other right now.

“I found two other cases from the same night,” MM cuts in. “One male and one female victim, not as lucky as our first. They were from different sides of town. Vought got to them long before me though. But from what I could gather, the situations are uncannily similar. If this is a test run, this drug is going to spread fast.”

“No faster than what Walsh will allow, you mean,” Hughie interjects. “He still has to keep ahead and under Vought’s radar.”

“Any clues what it's for?,” you ask.

“I have less leads than them,” Frenchie replies, rubbing the back of his head in agitation. “After what happened with the last sample, I've had to take the experiments a little slow.”

Hughie shakes his head. “Not gonna lie, that's not great news for our timeline before the gala. How are we coming on that?”

Frenchie perks up a bit. “That I do have good news. My surveillance equipment should be here within a few days. But I will need to know where in the gala we are playing our roles. I need just a little time to make any necessary changes to it.”

Butcher gestures around the room. “So? Where do you lot all wanna be?”

There's the crackle of paper as Frenchie smooths out the schematics splayed out on his desk, Kimiko and MM leaning to peer behind him. “We all start at the top and work down, right?,” MM begins. “Fifteen floors down. We should stack. Nobody more than one floor apart from each other. So I'll take fourteen and every third floor on.”

Hughie starts ticking off fingers. “So that means…”

“Means MM,” Butcher says, rising from his desk to stride to view the schematics, “will take fourteen, eleven, eight, five, and two. The love birds have to split what's left, and they all converge in the sublevels.”

Kimiko types rapidly into her phone before showing the display to everyone. I want to be closest to either of them if they need backup, it reads. I'll take thirteen down.

“I guess that leaves me with levels divisible by three,” Frenchie shrugs.

“What kind of modifications are you thinking?,” you ask him.

“Mostly wardrobe, so I know how to disguise your surveillance gear.”

Kimiko and Hughie smile, confusing you until you hear a voice behind you pipe up, “I guess I snuck out at the right time then.”

All eyes turn and you find Annie coming into the office. While you feel Butcher's not-so-welcoming smirk bloom from his spot, you and Kimiko each greet her with a warm hug before she greets Hughie the same with a kiss tagged on. “I'm guessing this isn't the budget report we're talking about?,” she asks the room.

“We could go back to that,” Butcher grins. “Being the altruistic soul you are, Starlight, I'm sure you'd be more than happy to make a generous donation to our cause, no? And using that Seven member payroll to stick it to Vought?” He lets out a low whistle. “It'd be poetry.”

“Tempting,” she responds tersely. “But even my money is micromanaged. Getting my charity for at-risk youth off the ground has been like pulling teeth, even with all the good PR Vought is expecting. And the last thing all of you need is for Vought to be sniffing further into my ‘donations’. Don't you think?”

“If you're a stingy bitch, you can just say that.”

“Okay!” Hughie quickly cuts in, placing his thin frame in the direct heat of their glaring. You're surprised he doesn't melt like butter in the thick of it. “Let's remember we're all on the same side here. We'll give you ladies a chance to talk over things while we, uh, find the best place to put our surveillance team.”

“I won't keep her long. The less I know, probably the better. At least in this case.” Annie gives Butcher one more pointed glare before shuffling you off a few paces. “It's been awhile since he's worn a shirt that didn't look like he stole it from a Miami retirement home,” she grumbles.

Oh, you had definitely noticed. He was still wearing the blue shirt from your closet, and Hughie had made a similar comment when he had walked into the Flatiron. Butcher merely brushed it off with something about laundry day. Thwarting away the image of what lay beneath said shirt, all stretched out on your couch, you asked, “We're still on tomorrow then?”

“Yes. I know a guy from my Christ for Capes days, his name is Torsten. He doesn't work for Vought but a lot of his clientele have been supes. He's got a hole in the wall for a shop in Manhattan. He can definitely tailor something for what you need.”

She glances at Hughie, who is preoccupied arguing with Butcher that no, they can't park the van in the goddamn venue lobby. Then says, “I get wanting to wear something you can fight in. But can you? Not saying you don't know how to take care of yourself. I'm just hoping you're going to have enough time to learn what you need.”

You wave at the team as MM seems to get them back on track over the schematics. “If there's anybody that can get me ready with this kind of time crunch, it's these guys. Right?”

Her eyes crinkle as she looks over each of them. “I mean…kinda? A little. I don't think their insurance would agree, but...”

“Says the one who can take a bullet to the chest,” you jibe back.

“Well I don't know what the hell they'll teach you. But we'll get you fitted for it.”

The idea of pitching Annie to supplement your training flits in your brain. What better way to learn than from the one friendly supe in your corner? But immediately you reject it. Annie is already under constant suspicion from the Seven, Homelander most of all. Not to mention what little spare time she has is just that - very little. And again, would she be able to hide your training from Hughie till the right time? Especially if she knew Butcher was involved, in more ways than one?

Not likely, the little voice huffs.

“Hughie told you about meeting at the apartment at 4, right?,” she asks, dragging you from your thoughts.

You nod.

“Okay. We'll meet there, then head to Torsten's. My window will be small though before I have to get back to the tower. So think about what you might like for the gala. He's a damn good tailor but not a miracle worker, and we're calling it pretty tight as is.”

“Sounds good. But one problem. I don't exactly have a budget for a custom fit. And Butcher wasn't completely wrong about needing financing for this.”

Annie shakes her head. “Don't worry about it. Torsten owes me a favor anyway. And it helps me get away from the tower for a time. Which…” She glances at the clock on her phone. “...I am nearly out of myself already.”

“You're not staying?”

“No,” she sighs. “I wanted to get the details to you in person, less risk of our plans being tracked or leaked that way. That and I need to talk to Hughie for a bit. I meant what I said about knowing less. Our resident asshole-”

“Which one?,” you ask in a cheeky tone.

“Our resident asshole,” she continues, “doesn't need any more reason to doubt my intentions. The less I know, the safer all of us will be if shit hits the fan, especially with Vought. Gotta keep my nose clean after the last time I was accused of treason, too.”

“I appreciate your help, Annie.” You glance over at Hughie and Butcher, still mapping out the eventual parking spot of the surveillance van. You notice MM approaching you. “I'll let you talk to your boy toy and see you tomorrow. I have a feeling I'm needed now.”

“That would be correct,” the big man says as he steps up beside you. “We need to start working on your ability to read the room. More like you should've started yesterday. So if you need anything, snacks, restroom break, whatever - now is the time. We're gonna be here late tonight.”

You give Annie another hug before she motions for Hughie to join her for a hushed discussion. You move back towards the others and the venue map with MM. “So what does this entail?”

“Body language is the big one. You use it all the time, you just don't know it. A lot of social cues are given and read more subconsciously. Your role in this depends on it.”

As Hughie and Annie call out a good night, explaining that they needed to headout, Butcher waves them off dismissively and walks towards his desk at the end of the office. “Already we got a snag in your little lesson here, MM. You think four of us is gonna be the same as reading a packed ballroom?”

“No, I think we are her training wheels and that's better than nothing.” There's a hint of exasperation in his tone. You have the distinct impression that Butcher has voiced his charming opinions to the crew on you being their spy for the event. If said impression was right, then at least you knew the crew was on your side.

Frenchie slides across his own desk with a small smile at the corners of his mouth. He disappears for a brief second before bobbing back up with a Bluetooth speaker, and begins setting it up with his phone.

MM watches him incredulously, palms up in confusion. “The fuck is he doin’? The fuck you doin’, Frenchie?”

“I am setting up for the lesson. We are teaching her body language cues, the gala is in a ballroom…” He thumbs over his phone screen before beaming at you. “So dancing serves for both, non?”

MM wipes a hand over his face as Kimiko sticks out her hands in invitation to Frenchie. “Oh my god, fucking really?”

“We're working, not fucking about!,” Butcher growls as a song comes on at random. The sound of a howl and three single notes flow out of the speaker, and Frenchie looks at it with doubt. But he shrugs and begins to turn and shuffle about with Kimiko.

You recognize now that his random playlist had chosen “Lil’ Red Riding Hood”. Not something you even expected with all the French rap you usually heard him play. You highly doubt this will be played at the gala either, but you just smile, enjoying the duo's antics as MM vents his frustration.

“As you can see, Kimiko's body language is open. She smiles! She is relaxed!”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Frenchie…”

You nod with thick enthusiasm, ignoring Butcher grumbling. “Yes, yes. I see.”

The duo continue to wheel about in the limited space as the song progresses. “Now notice that both of us have some tension in our shoulders? That is from suppression. Why?”

“Why?,” you play along.

“To not laugh at these two boring fuckers!”

MM flips them both the finger, which they return in kind. After another moment, MM finally steps forward. “Hold on, hold on. Let's at least do this proper. Kimiko? May have your hand?”

They paused, confused. But you catch a glint in MM's eyes and you give her the thumbs up. To Frenchie’s surprise, MM takes her hand, doing his best to maintain proper dance form with the size difference. He makes a “eyes on me” motion at you.

“Watch and learn. If you didn't notice, poor Kimiko's body language was giving all the subtle signs of distress.” He begins to move into a different dance than the awkward shuffle from before. “And why? She needed saving. Because he, and his white ass, ain't got no rhythm, and this is clearly a motherfucking tango!”

“Oh fuck you! You think I can't fucking tango?”

MM sweeps Kimiko further away. “Nah, you don't get her back now. You hijack my lesson, I hijack your dance partner.”

You can't help but laugh as Frenchie stomps after them, apparently offended, and MM dancing just out of reach round the office with Kimiko standing on his toes. After the apprehension you'd had about this meeting, this is a pleasant change of pace. But you know the song is just about over, and there's still work to be done. Not to mention there was still the hardass who definitely would not be dancing.

You tear your eyes from the three cavorting about, ready to catch Butcher scowling across the room. Instead, you catch him taking advantage of the trio's distraction to stare right at you. A small knowing smirk appears as the last verse plays.

Lil’ Red Riding Hood

You sure are looking good

You're everything a big bad wolf could want.

You're hit with the memory of that night at the motel, him staring up at you with that same damn look. Those wolfish eyes. He's being awfully bold, right in front of the others. But was he really anything else?

You are not going to make this easy, are you?, you think.

And in the blink of an eye, it vanishes and he is glowering at the others. Teaching you not to be distracted it would seem. He approaches them as they settle. “Turn the music off, and it stays off,” he snaps. “All she's learned in the last three minutes is how to look like a right wanker in a crowd. Which is exactly what she doesn't fucking need when she's supposed to sneak in, and then sneak the fuck out.”

He snatches Frenchie's phone and tosses it to him. Giving the other two one last huff, he turns to you. “Let's start with identifying when someone has a concealed weapon. Something you'll actually fucking use…”

^^^

Hours later, far later than you had even expected, you sit in Butcher's car, head propped against the cool glass of the window. You had originally hoped that he would insist on a rolling session after the training you'd done with the Boys. Or rather a rolling session and seeing where it would lead. But when Butcher had volunteered to drive you home - before the others could - on the ride in the elevator down, he had informed you that he would be out looking for leads again.

You admit, you were a little disappointed. But turning your head to look at him in the passing lights, you see just a trace of fatigue in the wrinkles by his eyes. A ghost of his concussion. And to be honest, you were still a little haggard from a long day, and the long night before playing Florence Nightingale to his stubborn ass. It was better this way.

That didn't stop him from cursing your fatigue. He peeled his hand off the steering wheel and placed it on your knee, rubbing firm circles there with the pad of his thumb. Just like that night at the motel, whistling low and slow that damn song in the Flatiron, as if in case you weren't remembering it.

You arched one eyebrow at him as he parked at the curb outside your building. He arched one back at you with a devilish look. “What? Something on yer mind, love?”

“Just wondering if I'm going to have to patch you up again tonight.”

“Are you now?” His voice is thick with disbelief. He gives your thigh a warm squeeze. “That all?”

“Yep.” You make sure not to bat an eye. “Not much else to think about tonight.”

“Well in that case…” The seat creaks as he leans in and kisses you. Firm and slow. Like that hand that glides up your thigh. Like the way he presses it against the center seam of your jeans…

And he pulls away just as you inhale sharply. “...In that case, since you got nothing to think about, I'll let you dance on up to bed for the night.” He unbuckles your seat belt for you with a cocky twist of his lip.

Fucker.

“Yeah. Not much to think about.” You make no attempt at hiding the frustration in your tone. You hear Butcher chuckle as you step out of the car.

“Give Tinkerbell my regards tomorrow,” he nods. Then with a wink, “And keep that bed warm in case I need a nurse, yeah? Be seeing you real soon, love.”

He closes the door and peels out into the road. You grit your teeth at how painfully aware you are of exactly how your jeans sit now. But you shake your head with a smile as you watch his taillights shrink. Because something tells you that the reason he peeled out was to keep him from stepping out of that car with you.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys fanfic

83 notes · View notes

avatqr · 7 months

Text

Please Stay [zuko x reader]

-please enjoy this one shot I came up with in the middle of night:3

-some extra info you might want: You are apart a noble family in the fire nation, Your father is a Commanding officer and serving in the war

Things have been so great with Zuko for such a long time. Since his he has returned from his banishment and started talking to his father again things were looking up.

We spent all of our days together, running through the royal palace, trying the best restaurants in town, sitting down and having tea with his uncle. I have one specific memory though, I wasn't doing so well. I was running a high fever and throwing up nonstop. The smell did not leave my bathroom for weeks! Zuko stuck by me the entire time though. He made me soup, tea, fetched me water, held my hair the whole deal. I could never thank him enough for that. Things were going well for not just him but for us. I loved him so much and he loved me. That's how it always was. That's how it was always supposed be. But after a few months something changed. I don't know when I started to notice the changes. Zuko was suddenly distant, less excited. It was was almost like the fire in his eyes has went out. I spent countless nights awake in my bed worrying about what could be wrong. Was it me? Did I make him angry?

I was walking through the palace, I had finally heard my father was back from Ba Sing Se. I make my way down the dark flaming hallway. I saw Zuko walking a ways down, I ran up to him and just walked by him silently waiting for him to greet me like he normally does but this time I get no greeting. We walked in silence for awhile listening to the flames rumble and the way our steps sounded together. The silence was tearing me apart. I finally broke.

"Why haven't you said anything?" I whispered. The tension was choking me. A chain is around my neck, a whisper was all I could manage.

"Me and Azula talked last night, and I have been thinking about some things. And I.." Zuko stopped talking. He let out a heavy sigh and turned to walk the other way.

"What has been wrong with you this past couple of weeks?" The chains that have been suppressing me suddenly start falling off. "I have done nothing but been there for you before and after your banishment!" I exclaimed. He was still faced away from me, he looked calm and collected unaffected by my words. "Your just going to stand there and say nothing! I bent over backwards for you, proving my love fixing your reputation. Fixing your mistakes!" I screamed. He turned and faced me he no longer looked calm and collected. He looked frustrated and hurt.

"I never asked you to do that! I never asked for your help. I never wanted or needed your help." He exclaimed.

I felt hurt by his words. I felt the tears starting to well in my eyes, "Are you saying you don't even apricate my help?" He said nothing. All of the sudden I was angry again. "I hate you! Be a coward and run away for all I care. Without me your what? A traitor to the fire nation and a fugitive?"

"I don't know what you want me to say." He whispered. He walked off and I never saw him again until 2 weeks later.

I woke up to the sound of my door being opened. I jumped out of bed and opened the curtain to reveal who it was. It was Zuko.

"What are you doing here? You don't talk to me for two weeks now all the sudden your in my room in the middle of the night! Who do you you think you are?" I said sharply. He was wearing all black with a mask and hood. really does no good because you can still see him in the full moon. I look down and in his left hand is a scroll rolled perfectly wrapped in a red ribbon with a nicely knotted bow.

"I'm sorry..I have to do this." He set the scroll on the desk and ran out of the room. I ran out after him.

I chased him all over town. He was trying to escape me but I wouldn't let him. I didn't understand what was happening. Was he running away? I cried and yelled out for him. I just wanted to talk. And I didn't want to yell this time I didn't want to get angry. I never meant to hurt Zuko. I still love him so incredibly much. I don't understand why we won't except my help, why he keeps running away from me. I continue running after him until we reach the docks outside the city.

"Please just talk to me!" I pleaded

"You wouldn't understand. The avatar is alive. I don't want to be around when the news gets around."

"That's really what your worried about?"

He looks at me, his eyes start tearing up. "Do you know what my father would do to me? He already disowned me once. I have made so many mistakes, I am an embarrassment to him! To our family! To the royal name!" He yelled. I could hear the hurt and the fear in his voice. It made my heat feel heavy. I just wanted to give him a hug.

"I have to kill the avatar. For my honor." He looked at me with tears in eyes. But after hearing him say that all my empathy washed away with the roaring waves that were crashing against the dock. I hate it when Zuko talks about his honor. His destiny. It fills me with rage that he lets his family dictate his path.

"Your honor!?" I shouted. I started stomping toward him. "Shut up with this honor thing! This is not your destiny! You understand what killing the avatar would do to the world? Of course you don't understand! Your running away because your afraid! Not because you feel the need to restore you honor." I grabbed the collar of shirt and pulled him to me and looked at him. My face filled with frustration and disappointment.

"You know what maybe I am afraid! Maybe I'm afraid my father will burn me to death this time! I am always the fool! I am looked down upon every single day! I am a fraud. I am not the great prince I am destined to be." He started to sob.

"Your going to throw everything we had away because your afraid? I'm here for you always, always Zuko. Please let me help you. Please don't run away from me." I started to cry too. It breaks my heart hearing him cry.

"I'm not the man you need. You need someone strong and who can protect you. Your right. Last time we talked, I am a coward. I'm running away from my problems and I don't want to accept the help that's offered to me."

"Zuko.. your are more than enough for me. I can't imagine myself with anyone but you. It's like you were put on this earth for me. Please! You don't have to go through this alone. You don't have to go through anything alone! Just please don't leave me!" I clung onto him and sobbed hysterically like a child. But in that moment my heart was being torn right out my chest.

"I'm sorry.. I love you." He didn't look at me, nor did he hug me back. He gently pushed me off and started boarding a boat. I couldn't believe it. He just walked away. He said I love you but did he even mean it? He didn't even look at me.

"So that's it?! Your just going to leave? After everything we've been through? Zuko Please!" I cried out to him. I begged on my knees even and pleaded but none of my efforts were enough to make him stay. I watched him disappear into the night. The walk home was depressing. It was raining, my pajamas were soaking wet and the smell of wet concrete and metal filled the air. I made my way home in the dark following the line of street lamps that have been extinguished from the rain. When I got home I sat on the edge my bed staring at the neatly tied scrolled placed on the table. I pick it up. I read it.

"My dear love, I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But this is the only way I can find my own destiny. Everything you have taught me about life I will cherish forever. Our memories I will cherish forever. Don't think because I am leaving means I don't love you. Because I love you very dearly. You encouraged and inspired me in so many different ways. I will be back for you. Someday I won't need your help. I am tired of finding the strength to keep going here. I am tired of being ridiculed and silenced. I wouldn't have made it any longer staying here. Please try to understand. I want to be strong so I can help you. And be strong for you. I have thought of you every single day since I have met you and I will continue to think of you."

I cried for the rest of the night.

#atla zuko #fire lord zuko #zuko #prince zuko #zuko fanfic #atla fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar zuko #atla #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #oneshot #x reader #angst

129 notes · View notes

xkaidaxxxx · 4 days

Text

Murderer's in love

Dabi x reader

Mentions: Aggressiveness, Murder, l.o.v, Emos, Sex, Virgin Reader, squirting(simple), Fucked Dumb, Fluff ending.

“ y/n you will always be an orphan! You will never have parents who care about you! You will never experience a parent's love!” Momo yelled at you. The party was going very well, laughter, food, drinks, games, etc. Bakugou was playing Just Dance way too seriously with Mina and Jiro, Denki stuffing his mouth with food. Uraraka recorded everyone doing silly things.

You looked at Momo, “ W-What?” you said. “ Woah calm down.” Kirishima said. Izuku was thinking of a way to clear the tension. “ What’s gotten into you, Momo?” Tsuyu asked. You started crying. “ It’s the truth.” she replied and turned away. You weren’t about to let her get away with what she said and so you gripped her hair then made her fall to her knees. “ What are you going to do? Hurt me? I don’t think our friends would be happy about that.” she said. The smirk on her face made you even angrier. You dragged her outside. They followed. You had multiple quirks. This time you’re using them for evil.

All your life you were treated badly and being a hero you promised to help civilians have a peace of mind. With the money you make from being a Pro- Hero you're planning to open an orphanage and make sure children will be safe and being cared for.

You made Momo levitate in the air. “ Y/n whatever you’re going to do. Don’t do it!” Izuku yelled. Momo isn't the only one who can create things. You tied a noose around her neck. Everyone was too shocked to even move. They couldn’t believe their beloved friend was doing such evil. You tied the other end on a tree. You were crying. Crying in pain. You’ve had enough. Everyone ran to Momo except Katsuki who held you down to the ground. You struggled to move. You’ve had it. Enough is enough. “Hurry up Idiots!!!!!” Bakugou yelled. You started burning his arms. No matter how much they tried to untie the knot and bring her down they struggled like crazy. It wouldn’t undo. They’d have to beat you unconscious if they want to save her. Denki zapped directly at you. You yelled in pain. “ Sorry..but you’ve crossed the line.” Denki said. You snapped your fingers and she was let loose. You made sure she couldn’t save herself. You laughed with tears running down your face. Bakugou let you go. “ We will give you a 10 second head start,” he said. Ida ran to the station and informed what happened. Within seconds other heroes showed up and at a distance sirens were heard. You caused a very huge explosion causing the fire and with that cover up you left. You knew exactly where to go. Your old hideouts as a child. Very hidden.

You’re officially a murder. A villain. You manage to live. Stealing was easy. Food, electricity, even water. A distant hidden location. It looked like no one lived there when you first moved in. After a month and a half. Someone kicked open the room's door. “ We like the update. Get out. You’re in our turf.” a man with a touch of gray and blue hair said. He had hands over his body. He looked in his late 20’s ? You yawned getting up off the couch remembering him. “League of Villains…Shi-Shigaraki.” you spoke. You’re a little scared and nervous. “ I’ll kill you,” he said. “ Go ahead. I’m fine with it. I’ve lived enough in this shit world.” you responded. He hesitated. Every Villain has a hard past. “ Who would’ve thought a little mouse like you would end up here. A pro hero.?” Dabi asked. He gave you a teasing look. You know they want from you. Intel. “ You will tell us everything you know.” Shigaraki said forcing you to sit down. Toga stared at you and licked her lips. “ You think you can get to me just because I murdered a hero?” you said crossing your legs. “Well now we know the reason you disappeared!” Toga said, giggling afterwards. Dabi was eye fucking you. “Quit eye fucking me. You’re old.” you said. “I’m still in my 20’s babe.” he replied sitting next to you. “If you give us some answers…we’ll reward you.” Toga said. “ I don’t need money so good luck.” You replied. “ I’ll kill your family.” shigaraki said. “ You can forget about that one too.” You replied. They felt bad for you. No friends, No family. Nothing. They also had no family but at least they have each other.

A month went on by and they basically lived with you. You wiped your tears and then shook Dabi awake“ I can’t sleep…had a nightmare. Can..I sleep with you. Only for tonight?” You asked. “ Okay.” He replied. You immediately got into bed. You kept your distance. Dabi is a hugger and so in the middle of the night he pulled you to him. You both felt comfortable. You slept so well that night. Like a baby.

You woke up in his arms. Clinged onto him. “ You’re finally awake. Can you let go now. I woke up 2 hours ago. I tried to get you off but you’re very clingy and strong.” he said as you let go. “ Drink tea for nightmares…chamomile and Lavender helps.” He said. You started getting ready for the day. Once you were done, you walked downstairs seeing your fella villains. “ Why did you kill a classmate?” Toga asked. “ You ask me that every morning it's annoying.” you replied. “ Leave her alone Toga. After all it’s her Birthday..” Shigaraki ordered. You looked over. “How the hell do you know?” you asked, upset. “ Ua students can’t just roam around freely. I’m sure you still have information.” he said. “ I don’t have any information. You can interrogate me all you want and threaten to kill me but I have nothing.” you replied drinking water. “ Lets celebrate! You’re one of us now. We always celebrate each other's birthdays. I know it must be shocking for you.” Toga said smiling. Twice handed you a full bottle of Whiskey. You sighed and said, “Fuck it. Why not?” Shigaraki smirked. “ There’s more where that came from.” Twice said. “Happy 18th Birthday to me.” You said chugging the alcohol given to you. It’s your first time drinking. Tears slipped from your eyes. They all knew how you felt so they didn’t stop you. You eventually stopped and burped. “ Like it?” Dabi asked. You nodded. “ Strong but enjoyable.” “Toga go do your job for her special day.” Shigaraki ordered. “ My classmate always bullied me..I kept pushing forward…My class planned a party to relax… she just bursted on me. She said that I'll always be an orphan. That I will never have parents that care for me and their love. That was my last straw. I have multiple quirks and I can create more..I used them to hang her.” you said aloud. “ Your 1st murder always hurts you but eventually you’ll know that killing people is for a good reason sometimes.” Shigaraki said. Villains are emos for sure but they hide. Your birthday was surprisingly fun. They really care in their own way.

Months passed and you were getting close to dabi. Too close. You’re 18 legal of course but he’s 5 years older. You didn’t care because you were underneath him.

“ You sure you want this y/n?” he asked. You nodded. “Words little flame.” he said. “ Yes Dabi please. I’m ready.” you replied. He slowly slid his cock into you. You whimpered in pain gripping his arms. “ It’s okay. It will go away. Relax, please you’re going to break me.” he said, allowing you to adjust to him. He pecked your forehead. He started thrusting. Groaning in pleasure from how tight you were. He loved the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in. He started fucking you hard. “ D-Dabi!” you yelled out as you felt immense pleasure. “It’s daddy now. Got that my baby girl.” he responded. He knew you wouldn’t last long. That won’t stop him from finishing. “Come on baby girl. Say it.” he ordered slapping your cheek softly. Your eyes rolled back with your back arched as you said, “Daadddyyy please.” He smirks, giving you what you desire. He was rough and fast. You gripped his arms and eventually left scratches all over his back. “S’close. Daddy.” you said legs spasming. “ Cum f’daddy baby. Make a mess.” he ordered. You came and squirted. A few more times as he kepted going. That only made Dabi chuckle and grow harder. Your juices were all over him and on the bed. After he played with you for awhile you were fucked dumb. He finished cumming.

He was planning to make you his since the moment he saw you. As he pulled out he noticed you were responding. He shook you softly. “ Passed out. I should’ve held back.” he said. You both developed feelings for each other. You guys wouldn’t have had sex. He knew you were a virgin and you wanted to lose it to someone you trust and like. He made you take a bath. You were too tired to even wake up. He also bathed.

The following day you woke up to him dressed in his usual clothes.. You sat up in bed feeling pain. “ Rest.” he ordered. You didn’t listen and got out of bed falling on the ground. You felt pain on your back and legs. “ What did I tell you Y/n. You need it. I’ll be taking care of you. You’re mine now. My girl.” he said, setting you back on the bed. “ I’m all yours and You’re mine.” You said smiling. “ Yes I’m yours y/n. You passed out on me last night. You didn’t even know we bathed together. It was a bit of a struggle but it worked out. I’ll make dinner for you. Something quick and yummy.” he said ruffling your hair. You fixed your hair shocked. “D-Dinner? What did you do to me?” you asked. “ I knew you would finish first. You came a few times. I needed to finish too. I overstimulated your body and you passed out by the time I came. You were great. I loved it. I hope you enjoyed your first time.” he replied. You blushed “ Yes I did. I didn’t think it would take a huge toll on me.” you replied. “ Sweetheart, I like it hard, rough, and fast. You’d obviously be tired and weak.” he replied, handing you a pain killer with bottled water. You swallowed the pill with the water. “ Hey..um..I know…I’m not much of an emotional dude in front of people..but with you.. I love you.” Dabi said while facing away from you. “ I love you too, idiot. Look at me please.” you said holding his hand. He faced you and you surprised him with a kiss. He returned it. The make out session started and it was full of passion.

34 notes · View notes

chronically-ghosted · 8 months

Text

sam and diane, eat your heart out

rating: 18+

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 3374

summary: after spending six months with FBI Agent Marcus Pike on a case almost-kissing, almost-flirting - almost - almost - almost - you decide to do something about that Unresolved Sexual Tension.

tags/warnings: thigh riding, marcus being a menace during a makeout session, marcus being a good agent first and an idiot second, i love marcus pike with my whole being (not a warning, just thought you should know), light cursing, reader is a journalist but no y/n or physical descriptions

a/n: from @trulybetty 's request from my 100 followers celebration: "Going with psychography and this is hard… Let's see, I pick prompt no. 9 and Pedro boy of choice is Marcus Pike as he's one you don't have your master list yet! → “i’m so sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit."I'll leave it to dealers' choice for smut vs. no smut on how it takes you!"

🤍Masterlist

“So, this is it? This proves the buyer knowingly purchased the artifacts illegally from the Belgian government.”

His mouth twitches. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know any court of law that wouldn’t uphold this as evidence.”

“And then used the money to bankroll the opposite party? These tapes, Marcus – I don’t know how you got them, but –,”

“Wouldn’t have gotten them without those bank statements,” he smiles at you, fingers pressing down those specific documents on his desk. “I don’t even wanna know how you got into that personal server, but –,”

“I’ll keep my secrets if you’re going to keep yours.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles and the sound sends a cascade of warmth down the back of your neck. You turn your head away to hide your cheeks like some schoolgirl with a crush. Well, about half of that is right. A crush on the FBI agent you’ve been working with on the side to not only bring an end to one man’s hunt for cultural artifacts that do not belong to him – how stupid could you be? This is not the way to getting your first Pulitzer!

Besides, this is only going to end badly – for you. Because whether or not you were convinced that Agent Marcus Pike may in fact be interested in you, depended on the day, the weather, and if you were susceptible to crying and eating chocolate bar by bar. Your combined case against this wanna-be museum pilferer was more airtight than your little book of tells: “Marcus noticed my perfume today”, “Marcus didn’t mention my haircut” , “Marcus complimented my outfit today.” You plucked off hopes and disappointments like petals from the most pathetic daisy and when you found yourself staring at an empty stalk, you were no closer to finding an answer you were happy with.

Because for every reason, every indication, every hint that no, Marcus annoyingly respected you only for your brains and journalistic integrity . . . he’d look at you like he’s looking at you right now and every semblance of dignity would go flying out the window faster than you can say defenestration.

Marcus drops your eyes, mouth parted as if surprised by his blatant staring, and he brushes the lynch pin to your case with his fingers.

“This is, um, this is really good work. Your editors are gonna love it.”

You lean your hip against the edge of his desk, crossing your arms, elbowing your way back into his attention. Your thigh teases the space between his. His head down, you watch his tongue wet his bottom lip the longer he stares at your hip.

“They’d love it more if the agent in charge went on record about the whole thing.”

Like you burned him, he retreats, stepping back towards the corkboard that’s been hanging in his office for six months. He tugs at his tie and clears his throat.

“Mhmm, yeah, maybe for a follow-up piece.” Swallowing, he pulls at the knot of his tie, and slips it over his head once the hole is big enough, quickly stuffing it in his pocket. He looks at the board like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

You can’t stop the irate scoff. The hurt, the embarrassment, it burns you. It’s such a stupid crush and he’s making you look like an idiot for it, desperate for scraps when you deserved a whole fucking meal. Your self-confidence had been hard won, built up under years of duress and shame, and a need for a change in your life. If you aren’t happy with something, fix it, your father used to say. So you did and you weren’t about to let Marcus goddamn Pike make you feel small again.

“You know what, fuck this.” In two strides, you move away from his desk and snatch up your shoulder bag. You know you’re making a scene, your cheeks warm, nose flared, and this isn’t the best way to end the last six months, or even continue a potentially invaluable insider source that could benefit your career for years to come. But you can’t help it. You hate how Marcus makes you feel. “I’m such a fucking idiot for thinking you’d have the balls to reciprocate so, you know what, that one’s on me. Keep the tapes, Marcus, I have copies. I’m going home.”

He frantically sputters out your name as he intercepts you between the door to his office. All the blinds are shut, this case of the highest confidentiality, and at least there’s the small miracle that his coworkers can’t see you act like a jilted fourteen year old. Your hand squeezes the strap around your shoulder when Marcus reaches for you.

“I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”

You grind your teeth together, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m talking about us, Marcus. This thing between us that’s been going on for months. The thing that you refuse to acknowledge. I’m so sick of this ‘will-they-won’t-they’ shit. I’m a grown woman, Marcus, and if you’re not interested then just come out and say it. Just stop . . . messing with me.”

The hand outstretched to you curls in, fingers, fist, retreating. His mouth twitches again, his eyes fundamentally unreadable. He glances over your shoulder at the board, and then when he looks back, his gaze is . . . different. Like he swapped his usual soft, friendly brown eyes with a pretense that carries a little more heat to it. The spilling of too black powder in a dangerous, unstable place, where careless matches are liable to fly.

Marcus shifts his weight, crosses his arms with the full strength of his back yanking on his blazer, and bites just below his lip on his left side, somehow making that bowed mouth even more pouty.

“No, I mean . . . why did you think I’d never act on it?”

Now it’s your turn to take a small step back, even though the low pitch to his voice is exactly what you’ve been all but begging for. The sound of it twists your insides, tugging arousal low in your belly. You swallow, suddenly blinding padding around for that righteous anger.

“It’s been six months, Marcus. Three since you almost kissed me during the stakeout. Two since I saw you staring at my bra after the rainstorm. A-and last month . . . last month, when you invited me over for dinner, I thought . . . I-I thought . . .”

You thought dinner was going to end in something sweeter than chocolate pie for dessert, when a woman called him, furious that he hadn’t been answering his calls. Her screaming was audible and the sheer look of panic on his face was enough to confirm every terrible thing you thought you were so terribly correct about.

“I told you about my ex-wife when we first met. I wasn’t hiding her. You weren’t the other woman.”

“Yeah, but people usually go their separate ways after a so-called nasty divorce.”

His eyebrow jumps at the unmasked condescension in your voice. You hold the strap across your chest like a lifeline.

Marcus’s eyes stray to the corkboard again as he works his jaw, split between being rather irritated and . . . something else.

That something else slams full force into your chest when he meets your gaze: heartbreak.

“Did you ever consider I tried to stop anything before it started, because I didn't want some asshole defense attorney to have any reason to blow holes in our case?” He shakes his head, this time overwhelming you entirely as he oversteps at least three professional boundaries by herding you back against a filing cabinet with just the sway of his body. The metal clangs as you crash against it, shoulders around your ears. “A reason like if the lead investigator and his CI were fucking?”

The messenger bag around your hips is the only thing keeping him from pressing up on you entirely. You are intimately aware of that when he tilts his head at you, eyes mournful and explorative as they draw a path over your cheeks, your nose, your eyebrows. Down the curve of your jaw and your neck.

You do the only thing you can think of and laugh at him: “A CI? Please, I think I was a little more integral than that.”

Marcus hums as he gently brushes the arch of your cheek with the pad of his finger.

“All the more reason to keep everything squeaky clean.”

You finally understand why he’s been looking at the board over and over, as if it’s going to suddenly catch flames. You suppose it's only fair that he’s worried – does a blasphemer not worry about his own state of grace on holy ground?

He’s knee-bucklingly close when you work up enough courage to look him in the eye and say what’s been looping around your mind like an unhitched railway car.

“But you said it yourself, the case is over, right?” There’s a corner of your mind that is keening with embarrassment at how breathless you sound, so you throw a shoe at her and drop your eyes to Marcus’s increasingly close lips. They’re wet when he runs his tongue over them.

“Yes, I did say that.” Fireworks explode in your brain when he tucks his middle finger under the strap of your messenger bag up by your collarbone, and then proceeds to slide his hand down the strap, knuckles very intentionally rubbing between the valley of your breasts. You wish you had worn a push-up bra or nothing at all. His hand shakes as it stops just above your belly button.

On a slow inhale, his palm changes directions, turning over to your stomach, heat blooming from where he touches you over your skin, to slide with a solid grip on your hip. A weight. The shifting of the scales.

“Marcus–,” it sounds like begging and he’s hardly even touched you so you have to follow it up with something. You drop your head back against the metal, trying to even your breathing. “Marcus, w-we got the evidence. The case is closed, we d-don’t work together any more. We - we can–,”

“I want to,” he murmurs and you swear the heat from his breath across your collarbone tightens your nipples in your shirt. “God, I fucking want to. But this case can’t be jeopardized. The bureau has been after this guy for years and if we fuck it up on a technicality –,”

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” you blurt out. The back of your head pinned to the metal locker behind you, you stare him down from the end of your nose, breathing hard and heavy. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them to his gun-powder gaze. “We don’t even have to do this more than once, but . . . fuck, I’ve gotta get you out of my system, Marcus. I can’t think straight around you anymore.”

Making a noise like someone popped him across the chest with their elbow, he shuffles closer, the bag between you digging painfully into your lower stomach. Both hands find their way to your hips. He squeezes you through your jeans, your panties a truly forgone mess at this point. You had men tease you before about how wet you got, like it was something shameful or embarrassing – giving so much of yourself away so quickly – but nearly pinned beneath him, you are quite sure Marcus would never have that inclination. Your own hands have latched onto his shoulders of their own accord.

“We don’t have to tell,” you hiccup when his thumb barely brushes the bottom of your bra. “I won’t tell, Marcus.” He tilts his head, the rough hairs of his beard brushing against your temple and you shudder, so eager to be touched by him on your skin and not through your clothes. “Please. Please.”

He groans again, eyes fluttering, head shaking. “Fuck, baby, don’t beg me like that–,”

His body presses you flat against the locker when he eagerly collides his mouth with yours. His broad hands cup your cheeks, holding you exactly where he wants you, your fingers digging around his wrists to confirm to him there’s literally nowhere else you’d rather be.

Marcus Pike executed everything in his life with dogged determinism. From catching criminals, to shining his shoes, Marcus was meticulous and detail-oriented. It made him a great agent – and one hell of a kisser.

His tongue rides along the bottom of your lip, then the top, not seeking entrance, but cataloging if the places on your mouth taste differently. He nips your plush lip and finds the sound you make is not exactly how he wants it. So he licks your mouth open, as forcefully as he politely shows a warrant before kicking open a suspect’s door. He finds that you like it when he’s a bit rough with his tongue, biting more at your upper lip to make you keen at that frequency he’s been craving. He does it again and you moan louder, fingers tightening around the curls at the back of his neck. He’s not satisfied with that sound alone, so he pushes even closer to you, seeking your heat with his thigh as if he could feel you pulse for him with just his mouth on you.

But this goddamn bag –

“Get this–,” he scrambles over your hands as you both incorrectly fight with the strap and the weight of the bag, “what is even in this?”

You chuckle as he manages to yank it over your head without pulling out your hair. “My little pheromones to drive hot FBI agents berserk. Why? Is it working?”

His moan is set between his teeth, sucking on both his own desperation and frustration at your teasing. Barrier gone, he shoves his knee between your thighs and slides it until it nestles against your crotch. It pushes the seam of your jeans against your clit and you rip your mouth away from his, gasping at the overly hot pleasure that roars up your middle.

“Fuck, Marcus,” you keen and his mouth splits open, eyelids heavy, as he watches you writhe on this thigh.

“You’re so warm, but are you wet? I can’t feel you.” His nose and mouth tucking into your neck, his wide palms tug and push your hips in a steady rhythm that has you fisting his jacket. “Couldn’t have worn a skirt?”

“I didn’-t know – you’d want to – do this,” you breathe through this rapidly swelling pleasure, your clit throbbing. He presses up with his thigh just barely and you moan like a fucking pornstar, his cock rock solid and hot against your hip.

“Can-can you do this?” He asks breathlessly, his own hips rolling in time with yours. “Can you come just on my thigh?”

You bite your lip and nod, eyes shut and head back against the metal. “Y-yeah, I think I’m – God, yes, I am – I am so close.”

“What do you need – to get you there?” He dips his head back to that spot on your neck that made your skin break out in goosebumps and he nips at your pulse point before soothing it with his tongue. You jerk at the sensation, your own pleasure ratcheting up to a soaring new height, the damp stripe of your panties almost soothing to your aching clit. You’re so sticky everywhere. You gasp, your hands curling into his shirt, shoulder digging into his jaw, neck arched to the side, as if your body is concerned how hard this orgasm is going to hit when he sucks a distinctive bruise into the hollow of your throat.

“Oh, God, Marcus –,”

“Tell me, what do you need?” he slurs in your ear.

You feel so empty, so wet and hollow, you want him to strip your pants down now and fill you as fast as you can. But you tremble on the razors edge – his cock anywhere near you is going to ruin you for the rest of the night – you just need to break through this one and then you’ll –

“Your fingers, Mar-cus, just put – them –,”

He huffs, grunting as he understands, and one of the steadying hands on your hips lurches to the front of your jeans. His knuckles dig into the skin of your stomach as he flicks open the button of your jeans, a low-heavy-drag whine as he finally feels the heat of your pussy, ready to suck him up inside you. He yanks down the zipper, cups you and that’s almost enough. It’s nearly enough and you gasp, your core fluttering, nails tearing into his shirt.

“Yeah, you need more?” Marcus hums, his teeth scraping your jaw as he pins you to the wall with his full body weight. “Can’t let anything be easy, can you?”

All sense and shame dragged out of you with every swipe of your clit against his thigh, you shake your head and let out a loud whimper.

He grunts something low and fast, heated and possessive, his hand shifting, knuckle peeling back your sticky underwear, fingers rubbing up against your puffy lips, and finally –

You toss your head back, a hot freeze locking your body up from your toes to your forehead, when he slides two fingers right up your cunt and curls them forward. A second later, heat crackles from your cunt up to your chest and you inhale, stars in your eyes and toes barely scraping the ground.

As you sink back down into your own body, your brain plugging back in, you realize he’s whispering to you, muttering, his lips moving fast over your skin as he gently brushes your cheek with his own.

“So good, baby, everything I thought you were going to be, you let me touch you, you make such pretty sounds, so good,”

The high continues to drag you back down, down until you’re shaking in his arms, a lethargic weight pulling you into his chest. He cups your head into the curve of his neck, his own heart pounding into the vein of his neck.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re messing with me anymore,” you chuckle into his skin and you feel him smile above you. “Okay, a little messing. A messing when asked.”

“Good. I like messing when asked.” He kisses your cheek, lips lingering as he breathes out his nose. “But, uh, I know you said you weren’t going to tell anyone, but you weren’t exactly quiet about it.”

You warm again, but this time with a bashful grin.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess there are advantages to being a workaholic and staying in the office until ten at night.”

He shakes his head, gently easing his knee from between your legs, careful to hold you until you are steady on your own feet.

“Don’t need to apologize for that, pretty girl. In fact,” he picks up your infamous shoulder bag and loops it over his neck. The strap catches the fluff of his hair and it stands straight up. You didn’t think you had the energy, but your heart goes wild at the sight. “In fact, when I take you home, I’d like you to be even louder.”

Apparently you had a lot more stamina than you thought because your toes curl and you can practically hear your pussy throb. Your eyes flicker to his crotch.

“You don’t want . . . here?”

He pulls you into his arms, and kisses your forehead. “I do. I want very much. But the first time I’m inside you with anything but my fingers, it’s not going to be in my office. Won’t be able to concentrate.” He takes a look around what had been the epicenter of your investigation for months. “Actually, I might have to repaper the whole thing now.”

You chuckle, leaning up under his arm where he’s damp and warm. “I think that might tip off someone to our little technicality.”

He matches your smirk with an eyebrow raise. “Fair. Guess it’ll just have to linger here.”

You kiss his throat as he leads you out of the abandoned building, arm tight around you. Where he does take you home, where he does come inside you with something other than his fingers, and where you scream his name . . . yes, even louder.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smu #marcus pike fic #marcus pike x f!reader #100 followers event #100 followers

139 notes · View notes

starsarefire824 · 7 months

Text

Byler Fic Recs

I haven't posted some fic recs in a while so I thought I would!

Here are some ones I love:

In Undertow (M) by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we): This is my favorite thing I'm reading right now. It's. Just. So. Good.

The Wheeler’s lakehouse was a two-story wooden building with white siding and blue shutters on each of the little windows. It sat on the edge of a large blue-green lake, a long backyard full of tall tufted grass that ended in a wooden dock extending out over the water. Will had been to the Wheeler’s lakehouse twice as a child, once when he was eight and again when he was sixteen. Now, he was twenty-nine and pulling up to the long driveway of the house in his beaten-up Ford Escort, his stomach in nervous knots that he was trying to calm with a half-full can of ginger ale.

or, four months after one byers/wheeler couple breaks up, another gets married. and, of course, will and mike are both the best men. and, of course, there is a plot to get them back together. nothing goes to plan.

one soft infested summer (M) by wheelersboy (@lucasvenkman)" The Stoned Byler to ever be stoned. And it's sexy and emotional and just delicious summer vibes. And I'll forever be thankful for the Director's Cut. 😉

The Party spend their last summer before college together at Summerfest in Milwaukee. Oh yeah, and they're stoners.

My Teeth In Your Neck (T) by @foodiewithdahoodie: Boarding school, sexual tension, and fencing. It's dope.

Mike and Will used to be friends. Best friends! But after one fight they couldn't come back from during the summer, they haven't spoken to each other since. The only time they cross paths is on the piste, with epee swords brandished, as fencing rivals for their opposing boarding schools - Hawkins High vs Lenora Hills Prep. This year is no different, except it kind of is. Something pulls them together and this time they can't escape it. Because there's no Mike without Will and there's no Will without Mike. Simple as that.

the strawberries are dying (T) by @eggowls Rated T: the world needs more historical au Byler fics, and this one is perfect. Beautifully written and an interesting premise. I have to catch up on this one.

At the height of the stock market crash, the Wheelers are the richest family in Roane County and in need of domestic servants to fulfill their estate's needs. In a bout of desperation, they end up hiring the Byers family, much to everyone’s (except Nancy’s, who has a crush on Jonathan) chagrin.

However, in the midst of it all, two outcasted young boys from completely different lives find a light in each other. And—slowly—their lives begin to intertwine to the point of no return.

need, lie, mean, cry (T) by @willow-lark: a good shorty fic with lots of angst!

Nobody needs Mike Wheeler. He probably wouldn't be so mad about it if Will hadn't lied and made him think otherwise.

Let's Go Crazy Together (but not like this) (M) by Julia_Skysong: Byler hate each other and end up sharing a room at rehab. It's awkward. I'm only halfway through, but I'm loving it.

Anger, fear, trauma, grief. One turned to alcohol. One turned to drugs. Now, somehow, they've ended up sharing a room at the same mental hospital. Will and Mike are stuck, forced to work through their issues together, for better or for worse.

things i can't say (T) by @chiquitablanquita. Switched notebook trope, my beloved. I really liked the writing here.

Will’s sketches contain a confession: he’s in love with his best friend. Unfortunately, his best friend’s journal looks a lot like his sketchbook.

If You Stay (M) by Flurryofstarz. A The Proposal AU, Byler edition. It's fucking cute. Impatiently awaiting an update.

Faced with the threat of deportation, career-oriented Mike Wheeler says he's engaged to his hapless assistant, Will Byers. Will commits to the lie while imposing a few conditions of his own. With a skeptical immigration official waiting for them to slip up, the two must work together to fool their friends and families into believing that their once-strained relationship has since evolved into true love.

But what happens when they start to believe the lie too?

Or, the fic inspired by the enemies-to-lovers rom-com, The Proposal (2009).

he could be a bee to a blossom (E) by anonymous: I loooveed the writing. Truly a Tragedy that it's anonymous.

Mike reached down and grabbed something. He was seated on the edge of the bed, curled towards him with his knee resting near Will’s pillow. He had a carton of freshly washed and cut fruit in his hand. “I already went to the grocery store and got, like, a million things. We could probably shelter in place here for a month and a half.”

Mike said it in a way that was not remotely sexy, but it still made something in Will’s stomach heat. He almost felt like purring, kneading his hands into the mattress with satisfaction. [My alpha got that for me. My alpha is making sure I’m healthy and hydrated. My alpha is taking such good care of me.]

A record scratch went off in Will’s head. Christ alive, Mike was NOT his alpha.

(A/B/O AU… And they were roommates!)

Be mine through the Hawkinspocalypse (and I'll be yours forever) (E) by TikaWayward: I love this whole series. It's unique and sexy and well written.

Mike was long. Long frame extended in a stretch. Long limbs shaking from exhaustion. Long fingers clenched around ripped sheets. Long hair damp with sweat, sticking to his long pale nape and freckled shoulders. Even his back seemed long as he tensed. Will had to commit this view to memory, engrave it in his mind forever. Even if it was the only time they ever shared such intimacy, even if Mike had only asked him for help because he was there, familiar, convenient, and they needed his heat to stop as soon as possible. There are goddamned monsters out there Will, I can’t be in heat right now, I can’t! He needed to revere this moment.

Mike truly was the most beautiful creature Will had laid his eyes on. __________________________________________________________________

Or Mike presents as an omega in the middle of his patrol with Will in a monster infested forest.

The Best Ever Death Metal Band Out of Hawkins (M) by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we): uhmmmmm, I'm obsessed with this. Rock star angsty Byler.

Will had the same pre-show ritual before every gig he ever performed. About twenty minutes before he had to go on stage, he would lock himself in any confined space he could find. In a bathroom stall, his dressing room, the maintenance closet, he would turn off the lights and hide for a few minutes. Today, though, it was five minutes before he had to go on stage, the clock ticking down, and he had spent the last half hour wandering around the venue looking for Mike Wheeler.

Will needed to talk to him.

or, the party has a band. will and mike make out on stage. for the bit, of course. it causes problems.

I’m a Wreck (Without You Here) (M) by @talkingtothelights. I'm only on the first chapter but it's so heartbreaking and emotional. Good shit.

Mike has been living 2,200 miles away from his family and hometown for the past fourteen years. He rarely visits, but when he receives heartbreaking news, he’s forced to return home for a funeral. It’s in this unfortunate chapter of life that Mike must come to terms with the consequences of abruptly running away from home and perhaps reconnect with the one person he’s tried his damnedest to forget about.

not strong enough to be your man (T) by @perexcri. The prose is fucking beautiful. I really enjoyed this one.

He swallows down a flurry of all the things he wants to say �� every moment and untold truth and aching thought that’s bruised his mind for years – but it comes out so plain, so stark and oddly-jagged in the silence following the lighting, taking up space where thunder should be:

“I meant it, Will. You’re not an inconvenience.”

Will shakes his head and turns.

Mike wants to feel like he's meaningful, like he's an active part of his own life - worthwhile.

It's a good thing Will needs him now more than ever.

Right?

Make Believe (E) by FlurryofStarz. One of all time favorites. Amazing slow burn and super interesting a/b/o dynamics. Mike centric. I cannot wait until the plot point I think is going to happen is revealed. 👀

There's absolutely no way to know what a person will present as ahead of time, but Mike's never been more certain about something in his life. Will Byers is going to be an Omega--a male Omega--and the second that happens, he'll lose everything. Some knothead Alpha like Troy or James will claim him as their own and no one will be able to stop them. Luckily, the Party has a plan. It might be complicated and unconventional. It might not even be legal, but it's something and that's all Will really needs. Something. And Mike's more than willing to try it if it means saving Will.

But what if Will isn't the one who needs saving?

*** if you’re listed here and want to be tagged let ms know!

#byler #byler fanfic rec #fic recs #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #if youre in the mood for some good shit.

77 notes · View notes

gyupremacy · 1 year

Text

Kiss & Make Up | cs.

↳ Pairing: choi san x fem!reader

↳ Genre: smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

↳ Au(s): slice of life

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word Count: 2.1k

↳ Warning(s): cursing, mentions of past cheating (not san), argument, mention of parental divorce, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), missionary, t*tjob, dirty talk, fondling

↳ Summary: Your fiancé San hasn't been as active in the preparations for your upcoming wedding, and it's starting to get to you. Tensions rise after an argument about the subject.

↳ a/n: Hi, everyone! April's been a pretty busy month for me, with preparing for finals and personal conflicts, but I'm back with another fic. Thanks to @hwasrie for beta-ing and @snoozeagustd for creating the banner!

This is my submission for k-vanity’s "Idols Over Flowers" event.

Main flowers: roses (romance), violets (angst), marigold (hurt comfort), fresia (slice of life)

Supporting flowers: amaranthus (marriage & co)

Greenery: myrtle (soul mates)

Ribbons: band of satin (weddings)

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

"What do you think of this, baby?" you said, turning the bridal magazine around to show your fiancé.

"I think it looks beautiful! I like the style," San responded, barely glancing at the photo.

He was more focused on you, more importantly, how you were straddling his waist in the bed as you frantically flipped through pages.

"Come on! You already said that about that last one I showed you," you huffed in frustration.

"Well, I'm sorry, Y/N. I just don't see why you're dead set on finding a dress so soon," San remarked.

He had a point, whether you admitted it or not. He proposed to you on Valentine's Day, and you still hadn't made a decision on the date you'd tie the knot.

"It's not just about finding a dress. It's about finding the dress," you began.

"Many girls dream about their wedding day, and I'm one of them."

You sighed dreamily, looking at a ballgown style that caught your interest. Seeing the expensive price, you quickly moved onto the next page.

"Well… if it means anything, I think you would look really sexy in a mermaid gown," San chuckled.

"One that accentuates your body really nicely."

His voice went down to a whisper, and he soon sat up in the bed. Soft kisses were placed from your shoulder to your neck.

"Sannie… don't start," you warned.

"What? I can't imagine what my gorgeous bride will look like on our wedding day?" His hands trailed down your hips, then down your legs.

"As much as I would like to spend the resting of the morning making sweet music with you, I need to take a shower," you laughed, getting up to go to the bathroom.

"Maybe I could j-" San began before you stopped him mid sentence.

"Don’t even think about it, Choi."

After the long shower, you got dressed in a crop top and leggings since you were about to do your daily yoga routine.

San was in the kitchen making breakfast for the both of you (an omelet for him and a pastry for you). He topped it all off with some fresh fruit on your plate and green tea.

"My baby is back from the shower!" San beamed.

"And my baby made me breakfast," You gave him a kiss before grabbing the plate off the counter.

He sat beside you and began to feed you the pieces of fruit from your plate. You made it a point to purposely suck on his finger after you finished one bite.

"Mmm… so delicious," you moaned out.

"You're playing with fire, princess," San whispered.

"Let's hope you don't get burned then," you teased, going to take a bite out of your pastry.

The rest of the time was spent completely devouring the meal your fiancé prepared, but you were still thinking about the conversation earlier.

You and San had arguments like any other couple, though you didn't want to call what happened earlier with the dress an "argument", but it did bother you that a proper date for the nuptials wasn't set.

"San? About the dress…" you were about to tell him that it was fine that he wasn't as enthusiastic about it as you were, but was stopped by him speaking.

"Really, Y/N? We're still on about that damn dress?" San laughed, wanting not to focus on it.

"What? No, I was going to say that it was cool that you didn't see it as much of a priority right now," you said.

"Almost like you don't see the wedding being a priority."

You muttered that last part, not thinking he would hear it. You didn't actually mean this, but you were so frustrated at his seemingly lack of commitment towards preparations that you needed to get it out.

"Excuse me?" San said, dropping his fork on the counter.

"Did you just say that I don't think this wedding is a priority?"

"It certainly feels like it. Anytime I bring up wedding stuff, you clam up and avoid the conversation," you remarked, folding your arms.

"Because I thought it would be a compromise. It's like you've already made decisions on the wedding and just want me to go along with them," San gets up from the stool and walks towards the door.

"Where are you going?" you said, going towards him.

"I'm going to hang out with the boys," he responded nonchalantly.

"Of course you are," you muttered.

San didn't even waste his breath, just shutting the door on his way out. You sighed, going back to clean the dishes that were left.

Once finished, you got your yoga mat from the side of the couch and rolled it onto the floor. Hoping to clear your mind for a few hours, you turned your meditation music on, wanting to block out the rest of the world.

Hours had passed, and you had slipped out of your workout attire into something more comfortable. You grabbed your robe from the bathroom closet and put it on, tying the cloth belt around your waist.

San was scrolling through his phone on the bed. He had come home from his afternoon with the guys an hour ago, not speaking a word to you.

The tension was eating you up inside, so you walked towards the bed and made your way next to him.

"Hey," you greeted nervously.

"Hi," San said, turning to the side to look at you.

"So… um… I'm sorry about what I said earlier," you started.

"I shouldn't have said you didn't see the wedding as a priority. I just… want everything to be perfect."

You started fiddling with your fingers and took a deep breath before continuing on.

"My parents… didn't have the happiest of marriages. The loud arguments, the cheating, having to witness all of that was just - " your voice began to crack, and that's when San sat up from the bed and brought you into an embrace.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed.

"My mom deserved a better partner, a better relationship as a whole, and I try to compensate for that with our relationship," you finished.

"I know how much this wedding means to you, but you're going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself to such high standards," San explained.

"You're an amazing woman, and you've been through so much to be able to become the woman I chose to spend the rest of my life with."

"San, I appreciate your words, but sometimes I feel like I can become too much for you. Almost as if I have to try and prove how much I love you to keep you satisfied," you revealed.

"Y/N… never in the entirety of our relationship have I not been satisfied or happy," he assured.

"You've made me a better man, and making a relationship work is a joint effort."

"Your feelings are valid, but if you ever feel that there is some form of miscommunication, you can always come to me," San said, bringing your hands in his and pressing a kiss on them.

"I love you, Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that earlier," San apologized.

"I have too much respect for you and our relationship to let it go because of our feelings at that moment."

You began to cry tears of happiness, feeling all the love and adoration the man in front of you had for yourself. He brought his thumb up to wipe them away.

"Perfect is boring, my love. Just being with you is enough," San smiled lovingly, showing his signature dimples.

"Choi San, you're my everything," you responded, bringing your hands up to hold his face.

You both lean in close and kiss each other with such palpable affection. San brought his hands down to your waist, pressing his hands firmly against your hips.

"I can't help myself whenever I'm around you, Y/N," San whispered.

"You're so gorgeous, and I can't wait until you're mine forever."

Butterflies formed in your stomach, both from his words and the way he was kissing down your neck. His hands wandered your body some more, grabbing your butt and carefully placing you against the pillows.

San repositioned himself, straddling your body for a moment before becoming eye level with the belt on your robe.

"What is my princess hiding underneath here, huh?" San teased.

San bit his lip, looking at your bashful demeanor, making it his mission to find out what was underneath. He untied the robe hastily, soon looking at the purple lace lingerie on your body.

"Surprise," you whispered out, watching his eyes widen before an all too familiar grin appeared.

"Oh, baby… you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," San said, grazing his hand over your underwear.

His thumb rubbed your sweet spot, causing you to let out soft whimpers until he slid the lace garment to the side. San kissed your slit before diving his tongue inside.

"Fuck! Sannie, that feels so good!" You moaned.

San giggled as a response, continuing to lap you up like his life depended on it. He hummed against your lips, licking your juices and keeping his hands firm on your thigh.

You ran your fingers through his hair and leaned your head back in pleasure.

"I must be doing an amazing job if you're making those sounds, baby," San smiled, taking in your blissed out appearance.

"Y-You could s-say that," you managed to moan out as he continued working wonders with his tongue.

San brought his lips to your bundle of nerves, taking his time to suck it and watch you unravel for him.

"You're about to come, baby? Let it out all for me," San said softly.

"Oh shit! I'm so close!" You screamed out before your orgasm surged through your entire body, causing you to shake underneath your fiancé.

As you came down from your daze, San tapped your shoulder for you to switch positions with him so that you were the one on top this time.

"As much as I would love for you to return the favor, Y/N, I just want to be inside of you," San moaned, gesturing to the noticeable bulge in his sweatpants.

You obliged, pulling down his sweatpants and underwear. His member sprung up and pressed a kiss to the tip before sliding your underwear down.

You guided your slit over his and slid down on him, tilting your head back once you feel him inside of you. San grabbed hold of your hips, watching as you bounced on top of him.

"Yes! Right there!" You moaned.

"Feels so good, baby! Ride it out!" San grunted, letting you control the pace.

He placed his hands behind you, unhooking your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

"I can never get tired of these," San said, fondling your chest.

"Oh yeah? Then how about this?" You stopped grinding on him and moved to jerk his member.

You licked up and down his shaft, taking the tip into your mouth and savoring all of your juices. San thought he'd burst at the sight, but that's when you caught him by surprise.

Taking a hold of his member, you slid it in between your chest and squeezed them snugly together. Your fiancé's eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

"Mmm… they're so soft and pretty. Just like that!" San groaned.

He was leaking from the tip, and you knew he was about to come, so you increased the speed of strokes, paired with the stimulation from your cleavage.

"Y/N, I'm about to come!" San gasped out until the clear liquid oozed out, landing on your chest.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out and lapping up whatever you could reach.

"Did you like that, baby?" You smiled, moving to sit up on your knees.

"I think you know the answer to that," San said, running his fingers through his hair and catching his breath.

You got up and grabbed a washcloth to wipe yourself off as he put the rest of his clothes on. When you returned to the bed, San snuggled up with you and kissed your forehead.

"September 16th." He said abruptly.

"Huh?" You asked.

"That's the date I want to make you mine," he reached out to caress your cheek.

Your eyes lit up with excitement as you couldn't stop picturing what the day would look like.

"Guess I'll have to continue on with finding the dress," you laughed.

"And the flowers, the venue, the cake, the time…" San said, counting his fingers to prove his point.

"You'll be helping me every step of the way, San," you kissed him, getting up once more to go into the shower.

You throw a glance back at San, giggling at his confused expression.

"What?" San questioned.

"Well, aren't you coming in?"

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

#wkcnet #kvanity #kidolflowers #choi san smut #choi san fluff #choi san angst #choi san imagines #san smut #san fluff #san angst #san imagines #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez imagines #gyupremacy

303 notes · View notes

nighterwriter · 2 years

Text

Compromise

Jason Todd x reader

Word Count: 947

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The poking in your side is persistent. You had tried to ignore it, favoring turning over towards Jason’s side of the bed instead of opening your eyes and dealing with the annoyance, but with Jason’s side being cold from another sleepless night, it would be best to get up and help him. Flopping onto your back, you rub your eyes and trail your other hand to intercept the next poke, wrapping two fingers around Jason’s index.

Even without your glasses, you know he’s tired. His shoulders hunch forward as he rests his head on the corner of the headboard. You’d be correct in guessing that there’s an incredible amount of tension in his neck and that his eyes were red and bleak from tossing and turning all night.

“Hm?” You hum as you escape from the duvet and sit on your knees, your hand immediately moving from his hand to his neck to dispel some of the tension.

“Sorry,” Voice hoarse and guilt-ridden, he raises his head, “Tried to do it myself, but my back started to cramp.”

You tut and wave for him to sit on the bed. You hated having to watch him go out at night and come back broken, having to sit and convince him to let you wrap his knuckles while he sits silently, refusing to talk about his nightly activities even after constantly asking to be more involved. The final straw was when he didn’t come home for three days only to return with the stench of hospital antiseptic clinging to his bones no matter how many times he had tried to wash it off back at the manor. He was in the hospital with a shattered rib cage and a concussion and didn’t want to tell you. You couldn’t look at his face for a week without feeling rage and pain burn through your veins. Alfred had decided to stay until Jason could sit up by himself and had immediately rounded into the boy when you had left for work. You came home to flowers, a new puzzle, and a regretful boyfriend and spent the next three hours talking about the future of the relationship and your involvement with his vigilantism. It had been a month or so after that talk and Jason was still weary; he’d downplay all his wounds, stop by the manor to get patched up instead of making you do it (needles freaked you out, but you’d spent weeks with Alfred learning how to stitch wounds.) It frustrated you how reluctant he was to accept help so it was a bit concerning when he woke you up.

You drag the first aid kit from out under the bed and begin the regimen the butler had taught you: check the wounds, redress said wounds if needed, then tackle whatever else was bothering the patient.

“Those’re fine, it’s-“ Jason winces as he reaches for the unraveled bandage near his right shoulder blade. You kiss his hand and finish removing the bandage as you sit behind him in the middle of the bed.

“Relax.” You murmur, grabbing your glasses off the nightstand to inspect the wound. The wound was red and Jason hisses when you touch the skin around it. “Infected. Not too bad though. I’ll put fresh gauze on it and we’ll go to Leslie tomorrow.”

It’s his turn to hum in response as you dab ointment onto the wound and rebandage it, peppering a light kiss on top of the itchy fabric. He prepares to stand, but you stop him, kneading a hand into the back of his neck while preparing an antibiotic tablet for him to swallow before setting back into bed. He groans, shoulders dropping as the knot finally loosens and he can shift his neck without shooting pain. He accepts the tablet, washing it down with a half-empty bottle of seltzer you’d forgotten about.

With the way his head is dipping towards your hand, you know that Jason is ready to sleep. His brilliant mind that kept him up most nights had finally begun to taper and the exhaustion had set into his bones. You coax him to lie on his back on your side of the bed, seeing as it would be impossible to get him to move another inch and pull the covers over the both of you.

The room is silent except for the white noise of the ceiling fan. You know he’s trying to find the right words to say, but you cut him off before he can try.

“I do this because I care about you,” You murmur, running your fingers on his spine. “I want you to be okay. I don’t mind waking up in the middle of the night a few times if it means you’re coming home to me.”

He says nothing but he stares at you in the dark, reaching a hand to pull your glasses off and place them on top of your headboard. They’re going to fall off in the middle of the night and you’re going to huff in annoyance as you crouch down trying to reach for it, but right now, all that matters is Jason. Placing a hand at the back of your neck, he pulls you forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, nose, and lips before tucking you under his chin.

Jason Todd is difficult when it comes to accepting help and saying the right words. But he knows that at the end of the day, if all he has to do to come home to you is let you play nurse for your peace of mind, then he'll do it until he can't. And that’s all that matters.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd drabble

604 notes · View notes

isabella-kr · 1 year

Note

Hiii I saw your post about Gromsko and I was wondering if you would want to write for him🤍 is it possible you could do a fluff fic about him. Like maybe some cuddles with him. No rush at all and if you don’t want to write it that’s totally okay💕 have a wonder day or night 🌙

Hello!! First of, I’m so sorry this took so long! And second of, thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like this! I made this a GN reader because you didn’t specify, so I hope that’s alright!

Welcome Home

Do not repost

Synopsis: He was always exhausted when he returned home, but feeling her warm embrace him around him made him want to stay up just a little longer.

Pairing: Gromsko x GN!Civilian!Reader - second-person pronouns used

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word Count: 948

General Masterlist | COD:MWII Masterlist

Had to make my own gif for this… that’s how underrated he is 😔🤚

He was tired, exhausted even. After weeks away on deployment, he wanted nothing more than to cocoon himself in his own bed – to feel the warmth of his soft duvet, to be enveloped by the floral scent of the laundry detergent, and to feel your soft fingertips against his skin once more. He was desperate to go back home, and when the sight of your small, shared home came into view, his heart began to race in his chest.

The air was cold, and prickled on his skin when he got out of his car. His cheeks quickly turned a bright, pink colour and his nose began to feel numb as he made his way to the front door. His hands were slightly shaky when he pushed his key into the lock and twisted it, smiling at the satisfying click of the door unlocking.

The warm air and smell of a home-cooked meal greeted him the moment he stepped foot inside his home, and he barely had time to put down his bag, let alone take off his shoes, before your excited figure rushed towards him. He welcomed you with open arms, eager to feel your warmth pressed against his as he nudged his nose against the side of your face. He shamelessly inhaled your scent, his shoulders relaxing and arms tightening around your form as he pressed a loving kiss against your cheek.

God, he missed you.

Pulling away just enough to look at your face, he couldn’t help but grin once his eyes locked with yours. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

You nodded, eyes searching his face; he had a yellow bruise on his temple, and a faint cut above his lip. Even though there were many times when he returned looking worse than he did then, you couldn’t help but frown at the sight. “Are you?” you turned the question around.

He breathed out a chuckle, “I’m fine,” he assured, pressing a quick kiss against your lips.

“Would you like to go take a bath, the-”

“Are you trying to say I stink?” his tone was light-hearted, and a toothy grin appeared on his face.

“Honestly?” you couldn’t help but laugh, “A little, yeah.”

He feigned offence at your words, “Wow,” he shook his head at you, “Can’t believe you’d say that to me.”

You sent him a look, rolling your eyes at his dramatics before speaking, “I was going to say the food isn’t done yet, so you might as well use this time to have a bath.” You placed your palms against his cheeks, and he practically melted into your touch, “And then you can go sleep... you look exhausted.”

“Okay,” he wasn’t going to argue, only pressing another kiss to your lips before disappearing in the bathroom.

The moment his sore muscles submerged under the hot water, he let out a sigh of relief. The warmth felt delicious against his body, and he could feel the knots in his neck begin to relax, the tension slowly leaving his tired and beat up body. He let his eyelids fall closed, and his lips parted slightly at the comfortableness he felt for the first time in what felt like months.

The second he felt himself slipping, he shook himself back awake. If he was alone, he would have let himself fall asleep, but as relaxing as the hot water was, he would rather be with you. Pushing himself up, he moved to clean his body, slightly wincing whenever he pulled on his strained muscles.

When he made it to the kitchen, you were already waiting for him, a smile ever-present on your soft lips. He couldn’t help but mirror your expression as he happily sat down at the table. He only realised how truly starved he was when the food was placed in front of him, and he scarfed it down like an animal that hadn’t eaten in a month.

You were happy to see him enjoy the food you made, but the way he inhaled it made you afraid the man was going to choke and die right in front of you. Pressing your hand against his shoulder, you urged him to slow down, “No-one’s going to take it from you,” you told him with a laugh.

He snorted at your words, but in the end, he listened.

It wasn’t long after he ate the food that he made his way to your shared bedroom, the exhaustion quickly catching up with him. Even when he tried to act as if he wasn’t tired – eager to spend more time with you – the purple circles under his eyes betrayed him.

You followed him to the bedroom, and happily joined him under the covers when he asked, nay begged you to. It would be a lie to say you didn’t miss the way he held onto your form, pulling you impossibly close as if he needed to feel you beside him – needing to feel you to know that you were there, and that you were not leaving.

You were laid on your back, and once your fingers drowned in his brown hair, he hid his face in your warm neck. His arm was securely wrapped around your torso, thumb drawing invisible circles on your skin after he pushed your shirt up just a little bit.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.

You hummed happily, tilting your head to press a soft kiss against his forehead when you responded, “I love you, too.”

He always slept best when he was next to you, your scent comforting him even in the state of unconsciousness.

#gromsko x reader #cod gromsko #gromsko x you #sobiesław kościuszko #sobieslaw kosciuszko x reader #sobieslaw kosciuszko x you #sobiesław kościuszko x reader #sobiesław kościuszko x you #call of duty #call of duty gromsko x reader #call of duty gromsko x you

188 notes · View notes

bestfriend491 · 1 year

Note

AAAAAAAAA i cant believe you write for okoye, you’re a godsend 😭🙏🏾 i have a request if that’s okay— i just want something sickeningly cute with her like waking up with her in your arms and just lazying in bed and sharing kisses UGHHHH. if you can write that i’ll give you my right kidney

Morning Sun

Okoye x Reader

Summary: You two and the morning sun.

Fluff

Warnings: None

The sun pierced through the windows of your house, 6 different shades of pink, yellow and orange hitting the objects shattered around your room. Nothing could beat the sunrise in Wakanda, and both you and Okoye could account for this, having compared many sunrises together.

You woke up, and soaked in the scent of your shared bedroom. It smelled like the one place you always loved being.

Home, it smelled like home.

The two of you hadn't been in this bedroom for months now, with both of you either staying in hotels and rented houses when you left Wakanda, or having to sleep in your headquarters in the palace for your duties.

Today was the first of 7 days where you both were excused from work and had no official plans made. After 6 months of hard work and dedication to your jobs, Shuri felt that you more than deserved it.

You laid there, unwilling to open your eyes before having fully woken the rest of your body up. You always did a quick inspection on yourself before and after you slept, just to make sure that you were in top shape.

Yesterday, you remembered almost going to sleep with a really bad ache in your back, but Okoye had stopped you. Seeing the clear expression of discomfort, she made you sit up and turned you around facing away from her.

She went to work on every knot and tension built area on your back, and after the most soothing massage ever, she gently hugged you from the back, kissing the nape of your neck, before coming closer and kissing your cheek.

You turned your head, kissing her passionately while turning around to face her. You hugged her firmly, removing your lips from hers and allowing her head to lay on your shoulder while you laid yours on hers.

It was a peaceful moment, this. Hugs and kisses in private were your favourite thing to do with each other. You loved when she kissed you because she did it with such care and intention, every place she chose to kiss lighting up inside the moment her lips touched them.

She, on the other hand, loved when you hugged her. Your hugs were never too hard, or too soft. They were always just perfect and the way that you let her know that she could stand down, even if only for a few moments, always left her feeling so safe.

When the two of you were alone, it wasn't like when the two of you were in public. In public, you were two warriors that happened to be in a relationship. Two warriors who were clearly in love, and would die for each other, but still, warriors. Never showing signs of weakness.

When you were alone, however, you were just two women. You were two vulnerable women, who craved love and needed to feel all of the things they couldn't while working. You were two women loving each other in ways that no one from the past ever had.

These moments were the ones that kept you going when you had to be warriors. Knowing what waited at home when all was said and done is what kept the both of you moving.

That night, your hug lasted much longer than usual, both of you not wanting to let go, and eventually, you decided to just sleep like that. You both got under the covers, and then proceeded to get into the same position as before, you hugging Okoye with all of your heart.

Now, in the morning, you laid in the same position. Opening your eyes to see yourself wrapped around your world. She was still sleeping comfortably in your arms and you were still holding her with the same intensity that you had remembered falling asleep with.

You thought about everything that you might need to do over the next week. You wanted to change a few things in the house. You had to visit family, and at some point there was a wedding happening. You'd need to get up soon, breaking the moment to go ahead with your lives. But you decided that all of that could wait, so you continued where you had left off. You kissed her head, then her forehead.

There was a scar from an accident on her head from years ago, and although it usually wasn't visible, you knew it like the back of your hand, having been the one to fix the wound. You'd had to stitch the deep cut after your first mission, when you two had just gotten out of training and on the field.

You'd been together even back then, and although you'd never admit it to anyone who asked, you'd both cried that day. Okoye, from the shock of seeing what being a part of the Dora Milaje was actually like, and you from seeing her hurt. To current day, you still felt a tug in your heart whenever you looked at it.

You proceeded, kissing it too.

This must have woken her up because the moment you aimed for the next kiss on her cheek, she moved suddenly and your kiss landed on her lips.

You hummed good morning through the kiss, and she did the same, tightening her grip on you, as you indulged in each other's presence.

When your lips finally separated, the two of you held eye contact. You two were like the moon and the stars. Beautiful both alone but only truly complete together.

You couldn't compose your smile around this woman, and it drove you crazy.

"I love you."

"I love you." She replied, her voice still hoarse, much like yours.

This wasn't just a normal I love you, like some of the couple's you'd see on TV. For the two of you, I love you was an affirming statement that you never went far into the day without saying.

Since the first day that you had both said those 3 words, you hadn't gone even half a day without saying it. On days where you weren't together, you'd use your kimoyo beads and send short messages that only the two of you knew meant I love you, while other times you would just mouth the words to yourselves as if you were next to each other, and then say it a bunch of times when you reunited.

It was a promise that you made to each other everytime that you said it.

I love you really meant: I'm yours. Forever and Always.

The two of you looked up at your roof, with its large open window centre, where you could see the sky. You watched the sun start to wake the rest of the sky up.

"What do you want to do today?" Okoye asked suddenly, running circles on your shoulder with her fingers.

"We can go around the city, or we could go shop for what we want to wear at Rishe's wedding, or-"

"Can I just lay here with you?" You asked, interrupting her train of thought.

You got a smile and a kiss in return.

"Okay, then I guess we're laying here."

So you spent the morning in bed, barely talking, but rather just enjoying the morning sun, and loving each other.

The End

Author's Note: I hope this was fluffy enough, although there is no such thing as too much fluff in my opinion.

2 Requests are now being worked on.

#okoye one shot #okoye #general okoye #okoye x reader #morning fluff #domestic fluff #domestic life #x reader #x reader insert #black panther #black panther2 #wakanda forever

113 notes · View notes

sapphire-weapon · 11 months

Note

i enjoy meta analysis of RE4make but even though a big part of the fun in shipping leon x ashley is extrapolating from all the little details in the game, sometimes i wonder what is it about them exactly that makes me go insane and the answer really just boils down to: royal/knight dynamic, fighting through hell to get back to you, blurring the line between duty and love

It's because their relationship doesn't end when the game does. The dynamic that they have in canon will actually carry over into their everyday lives when they're home, but... they're home now. It's different now. Their relationship is Not Normal, and they both know it even if they'd never acknowledge it out loud -- even to each other. And they have to find some way to live with themselves and also each other within the confines of mundane reality after escaping from a waking nightmare together.

It's the possibilities that pop up around that kind of conflict.

It's them at the same government function and locking eyes with each other from across the room until they can't bear to keep it up anymore. Ashley nervously draws her gaze down and to the side to look at nothing. Leon puts his hands in his pockets and quietly clears his throat, trying to tell himself that the anxious fluttering rising up from the center of his chest isn't there.

It's the way they still try to pass their tiny touches back and forth -- because they both feel the need to be in physical contact with each other for reassurance -- but they both know without saying aloud that they have to be much more subtle and natural about it in order to not raise eyebrows.

It's Leon sitting nervous whenever he's alone in the room with the President, because he's terrified he's been too obvious about even the quiet, subtle affections he's given Ashley since they've been home. He's sure he's going to get the "stay away from my daughter" talk any day now -- despite the fact that even those little affections have been infrequent and wholly innocent -- but it never comes.

It's the way that Leon has to physically choke back the urge to put himself between Ashley and anyone who gets too close to her. That's not his job -- and, in fact, it was an offer he knows he consciously turned down -- but it's an automatic impulse that he never fully trains himself out of.

It's Ashley making sure that she doesn't ask her dad about Leon too often as to be suspicious or annoying -- which equates to her doing it almost never, even though the desire to is always at the forefront at her mind, and not a day goes by that she doesn't think about him.

It's the way they just ignore the growing tension between them from their forced distance apart. It goes on for days, then weeks, then months -- until they can't ignore it anymore. They're not sure who kissed who first, but Leon has both hands buried in her hair, and she has one hand curled into the lapel of his suit jacket and another hooked around the knot of his tie, pulling him ever closer. Before long, he has her back pressed against the wall and her skirt hiked up just far enough to tuck the tips of his fingers beneath the hem of her panties. She can't get the buttons of his shirt open fast enough before pushing the fabric around his shoulders and down the length of his arms. Leon knows that he should stop this -- that this is wrong -- but Ashley's hands on his bare skin has him feeling normal for the first time in almost seven years, and he can't stop kissing her like the cure for his nightmares is written somewhere on the surface of her tongue.

It's Ashley on her back and running her fingers through Leon's sweat-damp hair as he hovers over her, eyes closed and head bowed as he tries to catch his breath and recover in the afterglow. Drops of sweat fall from his brow and the tip of his nose onto her bare chest and neck, and she lets them lay where they land. He's beautiful from this angle, and she so desperately wants to allow the words "I love you" tumble from her lips, but she holds back out of fear that, if she said aloud the truth they've refused to speak for so long, he'd put a stop to their now-repeated yet still infrequent midnight trysts. He kisses her slowly -- gratefully -- as he takes hold of one of her hands and weaves his fingers between hers. Her heart aches. Even though she has him for this moment, she still can't call him hers.

At least

I mean

That's what does it for me about the ship idk about you LMAO

#resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #ashley graham #this was fun LMAO #i think about this shit a lot sry

26 notes · View notes

agonycrossbow · 3 months

Text

Eagleone is so compelling because their relationship doesn't end when the game does. The dynamic that they have in canon will actually carry over into their everyday lives when they're home, but... they're home now. It's different now. Their relationship is Not Normal, and they both know it even if they'd never acknowledge it out loud -- even to each other. And they have to find some way to live with themselves and also each other within the confines of mundane reality after escaping from a waking nightmare together.

It's the possibilities that pop up around that kind of conflict.

At least

I mean

That's what does it for me about the ship idk about you LMAO

#eagleone headcanons #resident evil headcanons

4 notes · View notes

bsdndprplplld · 1 year

Text

26 III 2023

I had a lot of headaches recently, idk why. probably something to do with muscle tension, because my back, neck and jaw just lock up sometimes to the point that every movement hurts. I need to see a doctor about it, maybe I injured something or there is some other underlying cause

I wasn't very strict with studying this week, because a lot of stuff we did was a review of what I already knew but obviously it needs a refresher. if I keep ignoring it, I will end up in a situation where I won't know what's going on at all

I picked up some side hustles along the way, one of which is reading the extra topics from hatcher. one of the lecturers recommended a book to me, about galois theory in the context of covering spaces, I'm reading it right now, seems pretty good

tomorrow I'm seeing my advisor to discuss my progress with solving the problem for my thesis. I think I found the basis for the module, at least I proved that the set I chose generates all the other elements, remains to show that it's linearly independent. the second part of the question is the rank of the module, which is how an algebraic topology problem turned into a nasty cominatorics problem eh

today I completed the first "serious" task for my IT job, which was translating the code from java to python. I have never seen java before, but it looks a lot like c++, so I managed. I wrote 500 lines of code but I haven't tested it yet so debugging might be very painful. lol I guess that means I shouldn't say I completed the task

I am wondering if I should go to a conference, I have until the end of the month to submit a presentation. I am not sure if I can handle a trip to another city, it would be in a month, so there is no way to predict how I'll be feeling. this week I am giving a presentation about some knot theory (skein modules, bracket and jones polynomial) and it's a good pick for the conference too, which makes it a really touch choice as the hardest part will already be done. idk I guess I'll toss a coin, like I did about the IT job lmao

other than that, big thanks to everyone who interacted with my post about book recommendations! there are many great suggestions, it turned out much better than I expected tbh, I thought I would get like 2 or 3 notes. I will post a list of the books mentioned in that post, so it will be easier to find for anyone interested

#studyblr #mathblr #math

9 notes · View notes

mrssimply · 1 year

Text

22th: Knots

Hello Dear, you've been so very patient, but then again, you chose the 22th for your gift so I think you just like to torture yourself. I think you'll find you're not the only one, Johnny and Kerry are right there with you ;).

As always, you've been a real MVP during this whole month, keeping up with the rhythm, leaving kudos and commenting each time. It's always a pleasure to read your reactions, so I hope this one pleases you. I made it very frustrating to everyone involved, reader included because I'm a demon

This one is for @strandhai, who prompted: "A little bit of shibari. Johnny has to be a good boy all tied up and has to watch V and Kerry before he is allowed to cum"

The prompt should be enough to clue you about the rating ^^

You can find the prompt list here.

Every fic will be posted on my AO3 Account here.

V had to go on a trip to help the Aldecaldos. He said he would be gone for five days, and told his inputs they couldn't get themselves or each other off during his absence. He said it with a tender smile, kissing Kerry sweetly as the man kneeled up on the bed. He kept straining needily for more kisses every time V leaned away. Once he was finished with Kerry, V turned to Johnny and gripped his hair to wrench his head back, looking him straight in the eyes.

“That clear?” he whispered against his lips, knowing full well which of the two was the least well behaved.

“Crystal,” Johnny replied, trying to look as innocent as he could.

So V left them… and came back one day earlier, only to find Johnny balls deep into Kerry.

V waits for a night and a day to Johnny stew in the anticipation of his punishment. Kerry doesn't even try to take his share of the blame, and only shrugs when Johnny argues he was a tease on purpose. V believes that, but the rule was clear, and Johnny broke the rule, like he always does.

So tonight, V makes them both kneel naked on the bed, Kerry against the headboard, and Johnny by the foot of the bed. He watches them look at each other with matching desire in their gazes. Johnny growls softly and widens his knees, already hardening just because of the situation. Kerry looks more composed, fakes patience better than Johnny these days, after a lifetime of interviews. The singer looks at V behind Johnny, who is slowly walking around the bed, wrapping a long silky rope between his hands. Following his gaze, Johnny turns to him too, and curses when he sees what V pulled out of their kinky closet.

“Face forward, Johnny, arms behind your back,” V indicates, coming closer.

Tension rises inside Johnny, his whole self rebelling against the order, but he still does it slowly, showing his reluctance.

“Good boy,” V comments cheerfully, and gets glared at for his troubles. He just raises an eyebrow as the rocker, amused by his attitude.

Then V wraps his arms around Johnny’s chest loosely and kisses his nape before softly biting the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Kerry baby, why don’t you give us a show while I work?”

Said man exhales softly, half lidded eyes lazily roaming over Johnny’s naked form before he moves to the side of the bed and retrieves the lube and his favorite toy. It's a simple short but thick dildo that matches his eyes in color.

Johnny watches him hungrily, barely feels it when V releases one end of the rope so that it flows over his skin, ticking over his abs and pooling between his legs in a sensual caress. His cock twitches and his hips jerk forward but other than that, he doesn’t move. He knows his place in these games by now.

As V wraps the rope between his pectorals, forming a knot right under his collar bone, Johnny watches Kerry settle back against the pillows and spread his legs obscenely. He cups his balls, squeezes them just a bit before moving up to his cock. He teases himself with light fingers, curls them around the head to give himself a few strokes before he stops again. With a soft sound, he trails his hands up over his hard stomach to his nipples and plays with them nearly absently, gaze still watching what V is doing. He moans softly when he pinches them, and his cock twitches in answer to the stimulation.

V divides the rope so that two strands go on each side, underlying Johnny's pectorals like Kerry’s chrome does on his own chest. V caresses Johnny’s stomach slowly, enjoying the feeling of his scarred sensitive skin under his palms before he plunges between his legs, stroking the inside of his thighs tenderly.

“So, you couldn’t wait five days? You’re so desperate you have to get off even when I tell you not to?” V asks conversationally.

Johnny doesn’t reply, only turns his head to seek a kiss. Feeling benevolent, V grants him that, still grabbing his hair in warning: he’s pushing his luck. As he kisses him, V grabs his cock and give it half a dozen deep strokes that have Johnny growling and bucking forward. V bites his bottom lips and grabs the rocker’s balls tightly to make him still.

“Fucking slut,” V whispers against his lips, “you’re greedy.”

Johnny smirks, an expression that disappears the next second when V pulls sharply on his hair again, making him wince.

“Being horny makes you dumb, Johnny.”

And with that, V goes back to his ropes, tightening the strands until they bite into the rocker’s skin. Johnny groans softly, eyes fluttering for a second as he luxuriates in the sensation. Kerry’s soft moan makes him focus again, eyes jumping to him. The singer now has a finger in his ass while he teases his rim with his other hand, hips slithering back and forth, fucking himself sweetly.

Johnny hisses as his cock gives another pathetic twitch. He exhales long and deep and looks up at the ceiling for distraction, but it's in vain. He knows it's only the beginning of his torture, but damn, it’s already nearly too much, like every time V does this to him.

Kerry continues to play with himself; he goes slow, savors the sensations with closed eyes and a beatific expression. He progressively adds more lube to reach deeper, and pour some in his other hand before wrapping it around his cock. He sighs, enjoying how nicely wet the inside of his fist is, not really jerking off yet but teasing himself and by extension, Johnny. He gives V a show like he was asked to do.

Over Johnny’s chest, the black silk rope slowly gets tightened as V works. He ties a knot in the middle of Johnny’s back, right above where his arms rest, metal and flesh bound together by will only. V divides the strands again to wrap each limb individually, and then together. As he weaves the rope around Johnny’s wrists, a swift process thanks to experience, the cord heats the man's skin and constrains flesh and muscles. Each time V pulls, Johnny has to bite another moan, has to force himself to stay still when the only thing he wants to do is to melt against V.

Once the back is done, V joins the front and back ropes on each side, just under Johnny’s last rib.

“Kneel up,” the merc says and Kerry moans because it’s his favorite part. His hips buck up and he strokes himself helplessly a few times before stilling with a laborated breath. Hands shaking a bit, he reaches for the lube and the toy, getting them ready and placing the dildo at the entrance of his ass.

Johnny obeys and V gather all the silk strands to the front, letting them hang between the man’s thighs. He shuffles around his partner to see what he’s doing while still leaving a good view to Kerry. He knots the rope under Johnny’s navel then divides the strands again so that two go on each side of Johnny’s cock. He wraps one around each of Johnny’s legs, leaving that for the time being, before making the two remaining ends cross over Johnny’s cock and under the rocker’s balls. Slowly, he pulls up and it tightens around Johnny’s hard length and heavy balls.

As he does so, Kerry pushes the dildo inside himself and Johnny curses, strains against the rope because he loves it when it nearly hurts, when it aches, and because he can’t help it when he wishes he could bury himself in place of the toy.

V chuckles behind them and passes the cords under his captive, loops them though the rope around Johnny’s arms and knots them. It makes a sort of thong, and later when V pushes him forwards, it will expose his hole perfectly between two black silk strands. But better yet, every time he’ll move his arms it will pull tighter around his cock.

Johnny is panting now, trembling already, but V ignores him, focusing on finishing the legs. He can still hear the way Kerry is fucking himself: he goes deep and slow, clenches around the dildo on each push, sucking the thing in like he can’t live without it.

“You wanna suck him, Johnny?” V asks as he wraps the rope over and over around Johnny’s thigh.

The suggestion makes Johnny buck forward and curse before he nods frantically. He can already feel the saliva gathering at the back of his mouth.

“Hum, that’s too bad, cause I said you couldn't touch him for five days but you disobeyed so… We’re gonna have to start over.”

It takes a moment for Johnny to understand the implications and he gasps and tenses when he does.

“No, fuck, V!”

“Ah, don’t worry, you’ll get off. By my hand only,” the merc explains benevolently as he finishes his last knot.

Johnny can still easily move his legs, but the rope will tighten with each step so he’s gonna have to make them count, or not move at all. They both know what he will do.

Going behind Johnny again, V admires his work, following the rope lines with his index and smiling.

“It really suits you,” he praises and Johnny shivers, turning his head with pleading eyes.

“What, you want a kiss?”

“Yeah,” the other man breathes needily. With a glance at Kerry, who’s wanthomly fucking himself now, V nods and smiles. He leans forward to kiss Johnny, but doesn’t actually do it, teasing him until he groans impatiently. He catches Johnny’s chin and observes him with gleaming eyes.

“Open,” he orders, “show me your tongue.”

Shaking with anticipation and leftover rebellion, Johnny plays with fire and stalls as long as he can. V tuts and tightens his grip until Johnny has no other choice but to gasp. Looming over him, V let’s saliva dribble from his mouth to Johnny’s tongue.

“And don’t forget to say thank you,” the merc comments as Johnny closes his eyes and moans like a bitch. V forces his mouth close anyway and hums happily when he sees the other man swallow obediently.

Johnny opens his eyes to catch V’s raised eyebrow and he grits his teeth.

“Thank you,” he growls between clenched teeth.

“Good boy,” V praises, finally kissing him.

Kerry hasn’t said anything since the beginning, but now he curses with a wrecked voice and arches back, watching them with glassy eyes. V kisses Johnny breathless, biting on his lips, tongue fucking him until he melts, claiming his mouth like he will his ass later.

Later, after he’s taken Kerry.

“Stop,” he commands and both men tenses and still. It was directed at Kerry, but by now they’re both getting desperate and that makes them obedient.

“I’m gonna fuck Kerry, now,” he announced, thumb brushing Johnny’s bottom kip tenderly, “And you’re gonna watch without moving, clear?”

“Cristal,” Johnny whispers but this time, V really believes he will try to obey. It’s gonna be a sweet battle to watch, it always is.

With a condescending pat on Johnny’s cheek, V turns to his neglected input, who’s breathing hard and fast. His hands are trembling on his thighs as he tries not to reach between his legs for his cock or the toy.

Tutting gently, V pulls out the dildo, reveling in the way Kerry shivers and jerks. He takes his time getting comfortably positioned between the musician’s legs, forcing them apart further, and pulling him half on his lap. He pushes pillows under his waist before he deems the setting ready.

“Comfortable?” He asks Kerry with a warm voice. The man nods, expression a bit vacant already. It’s cute. V leans in to kiss him sweetly, a lot differently than he did with Johnny, all soft teasing touches and tender swipes of tongue.

Then, after brushing Kerry’s sweaty hair back from his forehead, V guides his cock in. He starts thrusting right away, no need to make himself wait with how wet and open Kerry is. He’ll take his time though, won’t stop until he’s made his input come at least twice.

And all the while, Johnny will be watching and holding still.

#kerry x johnny #kerry x v #kerry eurodyne #johnny silverhand #Johnny x Kerry #silverdyne #silver V #male V #silverVdyne #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #my writing #fic advent calendar

10 notes · View notes