#fall drabbles

[janeykath318]

Fall Drabbles Masterlist

Thor x Reader, woodchopping

TaserTorch, spooky and flannel

Shieldshock, blind dating a witch

Phil Coulson x Reader, leaves, witches

TaserBones, gourds, woodchopping

Shieldshock: Ghost! Steve

Clint Barton x Reader: Cider, haunted

Wintershock: leaves, corn maze

Steve Rogers x Reader: gourds, apples

Sam Wilson x Reader: Cider, spooky

Romanogers: Haunted, wood chopping

StrangeTaser: festival, spooky

TaserWings: Candy corn, festival

Jim Kirk x Reader: Costume, fall colors

Stephen Strange x Reader: apples, festival

Johnny Storm x reader: caramel, trick or treat

Bucky Barnes x Reader: fall colors, pumpkin spice

Steve x Sharon: costume, apples

WinterWitch: Caramel, apples

Daisy Johnson x Daniel Sousa: Witches, apples

Bruce Banner x Reader: leaves, candy corn

Quicktaser: Hayride, costume

BuckyNat: Corn maze, cider

Loki x Reader: apples, gourds

Bucky x Reader: jack o'lantern, sweater

Shieldshock: Haunted, trick or treat

SarahBucky: Haunted, apples

Steve Rogers x reader: pumpkin Patch, leaves

TaserBones: pumpkin spice, caramel

Wintershock: fake dating, hayride, pumpkin spice

Steve x Sharon: Celebrity/bodyguard AU, leaves, gourds

[theorist-fox]

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

[chrissv4mp]

♱ SOUNDS BETTER

"m'wife's so pretty," she whispers to herself, but you hear. saying you were soaked was an understatement.

WARNINGS. SMUT, breeding kink, cum-filled strap, strap in v, subtop!billie × dombottom!reader, nipple play, pet names, use of y/n a few times, fluff.

SYPNOSIS. when the topic of whose last name one of you would be taking after marriage comes up, billie finds herself in a rather... sticky situation.

LETTERS. i hate this okay bye 💔💔💔

"y/n o'connell," billie murmurs from her place at the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off while her body lays comfortably on the mattress. she rolls onto her stomach, resting her elbows on the bed so that she can lay her chin on her palms, "rolls right off the tongue." she giggles.

you shoot a smirk that matches her own cheeky one, your back resting against the headboard as your legs rested crossed over each other.

"yeah, but billie y/l/n sounds pretty good as well, no?" you ask, voice higher than usual. whenever you and billie landed on this topic, you always got so excited, and she was quite aware of that.

she shrugs, wiggling her entire body onto the bed and crawling over to you slowly. billie takes her lower lip between her teeth, blue eyes fixated on your own e/c ones. she straddles your lap, and you stretch your legs out straight so that she can sit comfortably, hands coming to her hips to pull her closer.

your smile grows as billie's hands cup your face, her thumbs—both adorned with rings—caress your cheeks gently. her smile fades, but you know she's still very much comfortable and happy in your presence. the cool metal of her rings on your warm skin makes you shiver, and when billie realizes, her smile comes back instantly.

in just a few seconds, billie manages to remove your hand from her hip, slip a ring off the ring finger of her right hand, and smoothly push it onto your own ring finger. she examines your hand for a long moment, her hand gripping your wrist possessively as she takes in the sight.

"a little loose, but..." billie speaks, voice quiet. her eyes flick back to yours, and this time, you catch the desire and longing swirling in her eyes—those pretty blue ones that always had you in a trance, "i think it looks pretty good on you," she whispers, eyes slowly moving down to your lips.

"mrs. o'connell." she adds, a lazy smile tugging at her pretty lips. your other hand squeezes her hip gently as you bite the inside of your cheek. it was taking all of her willpower not to beg right now.

you shake your head with a quiet chuckle, leaning closer to her face. billie quickly closes the distance between you two when she realizes. her hand moves to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat to pull you closer. she scoots closer to your body, her heart beating rapidly and her head spinning.

just the taste of your lips had her going insane, hips rutting against yours so that you could feel the strap she'd hidden beneath her boxers earlier that morning. you groan against her lips, and billie swallows the noise with pride, smiling against you as her tongue swipes along your lower lip.

you allow her tongue into your mouth happily, ears picking up on her needy whines as you fight against the wet muscle. in the end, you win, but billie doesn't give up her role that easily. reluctantly, she pulls away from your lips—but not without dragging your lip between her teeth, the action that always had you soaked, even more than you already were.

her hands leave your face, fingers brushing against the skin of your cheeks before trailing down your half-naked body—thank god you both only slept in your undergarments. her touch leaves a trail of fire behind, only adding to the aching feeling between your thighs. her eyes never leave yours, even as she reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra.

you let the straps fall off your shoulders, leaving billie to rip the piece of fabric from your arms, throwing it somewhere around the room. she practically drools at the sight of your tits on display for her, her hand coming back up to knead one of your boobs while her lips latch onto your other nipple. a soft whimper leaves her, eyes rolling back before shutting closed.

your fingers tangle themselves in her black strands, tugging at her roots and causing billie to moan against your skin. she clings to you like you're her lifeline, fingers digging into your breast so firmly yet with such care, her thumb rubbing circles along your nipple as she suckles on the other. it feels like she's in heaven, her head spinning with nothing but the image of you beneath her.

when she pulls away from your nipple, a thin strand of saliva forms, and billie licks her lips hungrily before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, stopping when she reaches the waistband of your panties. her eyes flick back up to yours, staring at you through her lashes, asking silently for permission to take the thin piece of fabric off of you.

"take 'em off, pretty." you whisper, voice quiet and breathy from how worked up billie had you already. your tone makes her shiver, and she wastes no time, fingers looping in the thin, pink waistband and tugging them down your thighs, legs, and ankles before throwing them to the side like she did your bra.

billie whines softly at just the scent of your arousal, scooting closer and taking her place between your legs, "m'wife's so pretty," she whispers to herself, but you hear. saying you were soaked was an understatement.

her finger glides through your folds, lips parting to let out a quiet sound of surprise at how drenched you were. she grinds against the mattress, the base of the strap-on rubbing against her clit perfectly. her cheek rests against your inner thigh, her breath fanning across your pussy.

you chuckle gently at her needy actions, your hands running down your body to grab handfuls of her hair again. she raises her head again, getting the memo whenever you nod your head in her direction. who was she to disobey her (soon-to-be) wife?

she pulls away from your pussy with a sad whine, eyes locked on your folds as she scoots off the bed to rid herself of her boxers. she steps out of them, the indigo cock standing proudly between her legs. her face flushes in embarrassment as she catches your gaze, her eyes leaving your body as she crawls back on the bed with her head hanging low.

both billie's index and middle fingers come up to her lips, spitting softly. you watch as the saliva drips down her lengthy fingers, your pussy clenching as she lowers her hand onto the strap-on, pumping the large cock in her hand. you huff impatiently, rutting your hips up against the nothing. a silent plea—or, more so, demand—for her to hurry up.

billie nods in understanding, biting her bottom lip harshly as she crawls even closer, her hands moving down to push your thighs even further apart. her eyes are locked on your soaked pussy, enamored by the way you clench around nothing. her heart beats faster in her chest as she lines up the tip of the strap-on with your entrance, breathing getting heavier at the anticipation.

"bil, hurry." you command quietly, your hands coming around to grab at her back, sneakily undoing the clasp on her bra. she bites her lip even harder when she realizes the straps slowly sliding down her shoulders, helping you by taking it off completely and throwing it to the side.

"jus—wait, baby," she murmurs, clit twitching at the sounds of your labored breaths and the faint smell of your perfume. her head hangs low, eyes fluttering closed as she thrusts her cock into your core slowly, her movements gentle as she whimpers, "fuck, ma—can you imagine how much better this'll feel on our wedding day?" she babbles, smiling at the thought.

you throw your head back against the soft pillows, her words barely registering in your head as you feel her splitting you open on her cock. your nails dig into her back, pulling her closer in the process and feeling her chest press against your own. the mix of billie's whimpers and your moans fills the room and both of your guys' ears.

one of billie's hands leaves your thigh as she begins to see a perfect pace—one that's not too fast, but not too slow either. her ring-clad fingers drag across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake before she reaches your arm and pulls one of your hands from her back. billie pulls away slightly, kissing down your body until she reaches your nipple, taking the erect bud between her lips again.

"jus' like that, love," you praise, mouth falling open into an 'o' shape. your eyebrows furrow as billie thrusts deeper, not even noticing whenever she interlocks your fingers with hers—until you squeeze and feel her large hand squeeze back, "shit, you're such a good girl." you moan.

billie moans against your skin at the name, hips rutting into yours faster. her hand on your thigh spreads you further apart, fingers digging into your supple skin as she suckles on your nipple. the combined stimulation of her cock rubbing against your walls and her lips on your tit makes you feel like you're on another planet—drunk off of her.

"gonna make you m'wife," she mumbles, releasing your nipple with a 'pop' before she continues, "then 'm'gonna make you a mommy." she says, voice laced with nothing but lust and adoration for you and you only. billie lets her head rest in the crook of your neck, placing gentle, open mouthed kisses on your sweaty skin.

at her words, you finally realize that she's fuckjng you with her special strap—one that she rarely used, but it was still her favorite, "s'one?—fuck, y'know how much i love 'ts one, bil." you breathe, nails dragging down her back and leaving a trail of red marks.

she hisses softly at the pain, nipping down on your neck in response before she feels a light slap on her back, "sorry—sorry, didn't mean to." billie babbles, soothing the sting with her warm, wet tongue.

"y'close, mama?" she asks next, voice whiny and broken as she feels her own orgasm approaching. her hips rock the silicone cock deeper into your pussy with each thrust, the base brushing her clit and sending shocks all throughout her hot, trembling body, "please. please, want'chu you t'cum for me." she begs, eyebrows furrowing as her hand leaves yours reluctantly.

her fingertips brush against your sweaty skin, your hips bucking in response before her touch is gone again. your jaw somehow drops lower as billie begins to rub tight circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, your nails digging into billie's back harder than before and definitely drawing blood.

billie didn't care. the only thing that mattered to her was getting you off, making you hers, and making you a mommy—even if it wasn't scientifically possible, who cared? not billie, that's for sure.

"fuck, baby, you're gonna make me—!" you cut yourself off with a gasp as she bites down softly on your nipple, sending shivers all throughout your body, "god, 'm'gonna cum, bil!" you warn, pulling her closer to your body once again, making her cock slide deeper between your walls—if that was even possible.

"please. please, sweetheart." she begs in that whiny tone of hers, and that was what finally did it for you. the knot in your stomach snapped instantly, and billie was quick to reach down between your two bodies, squeezing the base of her cock and releasing the fake cum into your tight walls. you almost lost it at the feeling.

billie helps you ride out your high, grunting gently into your ear and muttering, "you're gonna have my babies as soon as we get married, baby. gonna—gonna make you mine. all, fuck, all mine." she stutters, her own orgasm approaching as her thrusts get sloppier and sloppier with every second.

"c'mon, pretty," you breathe into her ear, your hand leaving her back to run your fingers through her hair. that simple motion gives her the final push she needed, her own orgasm hitting her in waves of pleasure as she slowly thrusts into you, "that's a good girl." you praise, and billie cries out.

her hips don't stop, though, slowly and slowly getting faster despite her oversensitive clit. she trembles above you, wanting—needing to fill you up again, although you were already leaking with both your cum and her own, "wan' more," she mumbles.

"jus' a few more f'you." she says it as more of a statement than an ask, and you can't deny her, not when she's giving you those pretty puppy eyes and pouting her lips.

"mrs. o'connell, mrs. o'connell, mrs. o'connell," she repeats it like a prayer, her hips rutting roughly against yours as she whimpers quietly. she was gonna marry you. she didn't know when, but she knew that she was definitely gonna put a ring on it.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere soldier with Stockholm syndrome

Part Two of Yandere Soldier

Yandere Soldier - Stockholm Syndrome

Yandere! Solider who can't get you to talk to him. You'll sit curled in the corner of the bed, resolutely looking anywhere but at him.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you books, flowers, even old picture albums he finds stashed at the bottom of your cupboard. And still nothing but silence.

Yandere! Soldier who's beginning to think nothing will ever break it. That he's stilled that vicious tongue of yours forever. Who hates himself for what he's done, but what choice did he have? Yes, he's taken you from your home and family and all that was familiar. But was an interrogation room really the better option?

Yandere! Soldier who comes home with a nasty cut all across his arm. Some dumb kid got smart and slashed him when his back was turned and now he's forced into recovery leave for a week.

At first, you just watch him struggle to change his bandages. But something about his injury, this reminder of mortality, sticks with you. You pluck the roll of bandages straight out of his hand and wrap his injury for him.

Yandere! Soldier who stays frozen while you work, terrified of frightening you away. Who basks in the intimacy of it - your bowed head, the delicate smell of your perfume, the pulse fluttering at your throat.

Yandere! Soldier who has to swallow and breathe before he can find his voice again.

Спасибо

Thank you.

You shrug and let go of his arm. Yandere! Soldier who hates to loose your touch. Who wants to pull you back and force you to cradle his face in your palms. But he doesn't want to ruin this tiny bit of progress.

Yandere! Soldier who fills the silence with his stories. Who tells you about his training, his childhood, the places he's been deployed to and how happy he was to leave them. Who teaches you words in his native language, even if you don't bother repeating them.

Yandere! Soldier who comes home exhausted and aching, who sprawls on the bed with a groan and instinctively reaches for you.

Yandere! Soldier who has to bite back a yelp of surprise when he feels your climb onto his back and straddle his waist. You slowly knead at his muscles, massaging away all the knots and tension and lingering aches.

Yandere! Soldier who has to stifle a moan because it feels so damn good.

Yandere! Soldier who finds you waiting at the door the next morning, still as quiet as a monk. He's immediately suspicious. Are you going to make a run for it? Instead you stand on your tip toes and press a quick, uncertain kiss to his cheek.

Yandere! Soldier who keeps touching the place you kissed him, even when it's hidden under his mask.

Yandere! Soldier who cooks you dinner most nights, even if he's dog tired, even if all you do is push it around your plate.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you news of the city and the war effort. The resistance is faltering, it's leaders hunted and put down like dogs. Part of him hopes the news will make you more pliant. Why fight the inevitable?

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't like the way your eyes get hard when he talks about the resistance, the way you clench your jaw and look away from him.

You mutter something and it takes him a moment to decipher it.

"I should be out there with them."

Yandere! Soldier who tries and fails to contain his anger. Who grabs your jaw and pulls you up to face him.

"If you were out there, you'd be dead. Can't you be thankful?"

You're quiet again after that and he stops bringing it up.

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't leave anything sharp around the apartment, but is still surprised when you ask him to trim your hair. He sits on the bed with you between his knees, carefully filtering the hair through his fingers. You're so close to him - willingly - that it makes him feel almost lightheaded.

Yandere! Soldier who carefully dusts the cuttings off you and is secretly pleased when you don't flinch away.

Yandere! Soldier who isn't sure how to react when you start greeting him at the door. At first he watches you warily, expecting you to bolt the second you can. But for some reason you don't and a part of him insists that you're starting to like it here.

Yandere! Soldier who exercises every evening, his shirt off and his black fatigues slung low on his hips. He likes it when you watch him and he'll usually throw in a few extra push-ups just to impress you. He complains that he doesn't have enough weight around for his workouts and you take to draping yourself across his back when he needs it.

Yandere! Soldier who finds himself craving you, even with your cold silence. Who is constantly aware of you around the apartment and has to force himself to look away.

Yandere! Soldier who turns off all the electricity in the dead of winter and claims it was damaged in the fighting. It's icy cold in old buildings like this and it doesn't take long for it to wear you down. Soon you're curled up against him, glaring at him to keep his hands to himself.

And he does, for the most part.

Yandere! Soldier who wakes up to you sobbing, your face pressed into his chest. He tries to soothe you, but you flinch away. You whisper between the sobs, sounding afraid and hateful and needy all at once.

"I love you..."

Yandere! Soldier who instantly understands what's happened. He's spent the better part of his life in war zones afterall, and it's more common than you'd think. Yandere! Soldier who secretly hoped for this outcome all along.

Yandere! Soldier who soothes you as best he can, stroking your hair until your sobs turn to whimpers. He presses his lips to your forehead and tells you to relax, that this was bound to happen, that's it's not your fault.

Yandere! Soldier who holds you in his scarred arms and knows that he's finally caught you, body and soul. Who says the words you long for but dread hearing.

я тоже тебя люблю

"I love you too."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Please, write something about facesitting with Stan and Ford, cuz with those giant noses I know its good.

A/n: 👀

Warnings: Oral sex, female receiving.

•Stanly Pines•

Stan love's nothing more than to eat you out though the moment you let it slip that you want to try something knew the man tease's how can he ever go back.

You're adorable, so adorable,

Stan can't help but smirk at your shy request, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation. He loves when you take control like that, it’s so damn hot.

"Anything, for you angel, though who knew you were such a naughty one."

He purrs, gently guiding you to straddle his face. His strong hands grip your hips as he eagerly starts to devour you, his tongue expertly exploring every inch of your dripping pussy.

Your cries only fueling his own desire as you tried to move, Stan's hands clutching preventing your movement as he held your hips tightly.

He moans softly against your folds, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. Stan's fingers dig into your skin as he worships you, determined to make you feel good. He loves the taste of you, the way you squirm and moan above him only fueling his desire.

You can feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin, his tongue flicking and teasing your clit with expert precision.

Stan's hands roam up your body, squeezing your breasts and teasing your nipples as he continues to eat you out with fervor. He’s completely focused on giving you pleasure, lost in the moment as he worships you like the goddess you are.

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good, baby,”

Stan groans, his voice thick with desire. He’s completely under your control, eager to please you in any way you desire. His cock strains against his jeans, desperate for release, but right now all he cares about is making you feel good.

•Standord Pines•

It all started in High School for Ford, he was tutoring you well doing his best as you complained about your boyfriend refusing to eat out which lead to you dumping him. You didn't know why you told him, maybe it was because you had a soft for him a crush and you were hoping that he would notice your feelings despite you being popular.

Though it didn't take long for you to try it, neither of you had experience and looking back on it, you couldn't help but chuckle at your first time with Ford though that night lead down the road of your experience with your six fingered lover.

Ford had gotten better, more experienced with sex when it came to you. One particular memory came to mind, you two were running from some asshole on some planet and one thing lead to another as the man had you pinned to the wall. Bottom's gone, panties hanging off your ankle as your legs draped themselves across your lovers shoulders.

You head hitting the wall as your eyes closed shut as your fingers wove through his hair. "That prick in the bar said he could eat me out better?" You had a teasing tone to your voice but you wanted to see Ford's reaction.

Ford's eyes darken with possessiveness and desire as he hears your words, as his glasses nearly slip off his face . His hand tightens on your waist as he adjusted your legs so you were more comfortable

“Like that bastard knows you like I do! I am going to show you what it’s like to be worshipped properly,” his voiced muffled by your thigh, his breath hot against your skin. The hunger in his eyes is undeniable as he eagerly waits for you to take control and give him what he craves.

Ford groans softly as you settle on his face, feeling the warmth and weight of you on him. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you into the perfect position as his tongue eagerly darts out to taste you. He moans in delight, the vibrations sending shivers through you as he starts to worship you like you deserve.

His tongue explores every inch of you, licking and sucking with skill and precision. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, making sure you feel nothing but bliss under his ministrations. The sounds of your moans and gasps only fuel his desire, and he's determined to make you unravel completely with his touch.

Your fingers gripping his hair, tugging at the silver strands, your eyes squeezing tightly shut.

He devours you with a hunger that matches his possessiveness, wanting to show you just how good it can be when you're with someone who truly cherishes you. And in this moment, with you on top of him, he's proving just how much he adores you. He may no longer be that fumbling teenager but Ford loves you and he'll always make sure you know.

[bakuhve]

our love through the lives

reincarnated bakugou katsuki x reader

the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was steady but weak, a fragile hourglass marking the dwindling moments of his life. the evening light spilled through the blinds in soft, golden slants, illuminating the deep lines etched into his weathered face. his once wild blonde hair had thinned and turned silver with time, but his grip- though weak- was still warm in your hand.

a news broadcast played on the small television mounted in the corner, the words barely registering.

“retired pro hero dynamight has not been seen in public for weeks, sparking concern among-”

you barely heard the rest. it didn’t matter. the world could wait.

katsuki let out a slow exhale, his chest rising and falling beneath the thin hospital blanket. his crimson eyes, once blazing with untamed energy, now carried the weight of decades, softened by time but still sharp as they met yours. a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips- fainter than before, but still undeniably his.

“you’re starin’ at me like i’m already dead,” he muttered, his voice rough with age but tinged with dry amusement.

you huffed a quiet laugh, squeezing his hand, the cool metal of his wedding band felt beneath your fingers. “maybe i’m just admiring you, old man.”

his thumb brushed faintly over your knuckles. he sighed, eyes growing heavier. “never thought i’d get this far, y’know? always figured i’d go out with a bang.”

“you did,” you murmured, shifting closer. “you just took your time with it.”

his smirk widened, but only slightly. his hand tightened around yours, as if grounding himself in your presence. “guess i did…” his voice grew softer, barely above a whisper. “and i got to spend it with you. that’s all that ever mattered.”

his hand, once strong enough to tear through concrete, now rested in yours with a fragile kind of warmth. the years had stolen his strength but not his fire- not the stubborn, unyielding spirit that had burned so brightly through every battle, every hardship, every damn thing life threw at him.

he had survived it all. and now, here he was, at the very end of the road with you.

katsuki let out a slow breath, his eyes half-lidded but still gazing at you, as if afraid to blink. “you’re still here,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

your fingers tightened around his, anchoring him to the moment. “of course, always will be.”

“dumbass… ‘course you are.” his eyes drifted to the window, where the sun hung low, painting the sky in soft oranges and golds. “y’know… i always hated sunsets. meant the day was over. meant time was runnin’ out.”

your throat tightened. “katsuki-”

“but,” he cut in, his thumb once again brushing lazily over your skin, “you liked ‘em. so i started watching ‘em too.” his voice grew quieter, raspier. “guess they ain’t so bad.”

you blinked back the sting of tears. you wouldn’t cry. not yet. not when he was still here, still holding on.

“you always had to be difficult,” you murmured, forcing a small smile.

he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “yeah… but you loved me anyway.”

the words settled between you, warm and final.

the heart monitor beeped- steady, but slower. his fingers twitched in your grasp, his breaths growing shallow. his gaze softened, his body sinking further into the bed, into the pull of sleep that he wouldn’t wake from.

“katsuki,” you whispered, leaning in close, pressing your forehead to his. “i love you.”

his lips parted slightly, his next breath barely there. “love you too.” his voice was nothing but air, slipping through your fingers like the last rays of sunlight.

and then-

the monitor gave one last, drawn-out beep before falling silent.

the world outside kept moving. the news kept playing. the sun kept setting. but in this moment, in this room, time stood still.

you stayed there, holding his hand. as the sky faded to night.

because love like this- like yours- didn’t end.

not really.

it would find it’s way back again. it always did.

—

the sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the endless grassy plain. the wind rolled through the tall grass in gentle waves, carrying the scent of earth and wildflowers. you had been walking for hours, wandering. the weight of countless lifetimes pressed against your chest, when you spotted him.

a lone figure moved across the horizon, his silhouette cutting sharply across the distance.

even from a distance, you knew.

bakugou katsuki.

your breath caught. he was different in this life- wilder, untamed. his blonde hair was slightly longer, messily tousled by the wind. a crimson cloak was slung over his shoulders, multiple necklaces consisting of fangs hung from his neck. his furs and leathers were worn from battle, dusted with the remnants of his travels. a sword hung at his hip, his posture relaxed yet ready, like a predator always on edge.

he hadn’t seen you yet.

you should’ve kept walking. should’ve turned away before he noticed. but after waiting for so long, of remembering what he has forgotten- how could you?

and then his gaze snapped to you.

you barely had time to think before he was striding toward you, footsteps firm and unwavering. his crimson eyes burned with suspicion, scanning you like a threat.

“the hell are you doin’ out here?” his voice was rough, sandpaper and steel- just as you remembered.

you swallowed, steadying yourself. “i’m just a traveler.”

his scowl deepened. “tch. yeah? then you’re a dumbass traveler.” his gaze flicked over you, sharp and assessing. “ain’t safe out here. bandits, beasts- you’re either lost or stupid.”

you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

a dry, bitter laugh almost slipped from your lips. if only he knew how many lives you had spent trying to find him again.

but he didn’t. not yet.

you met his gaze, steady. “i can handle myself.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “that so?” a smirk ghosted over his lips, dangerous and intrigued. “doubt you can keep up.”

and just like that, you were whisked away into your next adventure with your beloved. the journey that followed was nothing short of relentless.

at first, bakugou had no intention of letting you travel with him. he was a warrior, a king, and he didn’t have time to babysit some wandering traveler who didn’t know better than to walk alone through dangerous lands. but you were persistent, keeping up with him despite the grueling pace he set. he tried to shake you off, throwing warnings over his shoulder about the beasts that lurked in the forests and the mercenaries who would gut you for a single gold piece. you didn’t waver.

and so, begrudgingly, he let you stay.

your journey took you across endless grasslands and through thick, mist-covered woods. you met many people, most of which resembled your friends from previous lifetimes. a short, green-haired boy who was devoted to his knightly training. a sweet mage who used her powers to heal and make things float, a prince who could control ice and fire.

you camped beneath starlit skies, listening to the distant howls of wolves while the fire crackled between you. bakugou was guarded at first- gruff and distant, keeping conversations short, always watching you like you were hiding something.

but with time, the walls between you began to crack.

there was the time when you fought side by side against a pack of beasts, creatures with blackened fangs and glowing eyes. he had been wary of your skill, but when he saw you hold your own, his usual scowl shifted- just slightly- into something like approval.

then there was the moment you caught him staring into the fire one night, lost in thought. he never spoke of his past, but there was something in that expression that was painfully familiar- the weight of expectations, the burden of leadership. even without his memories of your past lives, he was still the same katsuki.

and slowly, something changed.

he started waiting for you before setting off in the mornings. tossing you extra rations without a word. grumbling about how you were too soft-hearted when you insisted on helping a lost child in a ruined village, only to turn around and build the kid a fire himself.

and when you collapsed after days of travel without rest, he had cursed under his breath, scooping you up into his arms without hesitation.

“dumbass,” he muttered, adjusting his arm around you as he carried you, his grip firm and warm against your skin. “you don’t know when to quit, huh?” but his voice was softer now, no longer the harsh growl it used to be.

you found yourself looking at him differently. his gruff demeanor, the way he carried himself like a lone wolf had always intrigued you, but now it felt different- like the walls between you were slowly crumbling with every shared glance, every quiet night spent together.

one afternoon, as you traveled through the thick and dark forest at the edge of a kingdom, you were ambushed by a group of bandits. they came from the trees, their swords drawn, but bakugou was ready.

with a roar, he lunged into action, taking down the first two with brutal efficiency that you had come to expect from him. but then, one of the bandits turned toward you, his blade aimed at your chest. you barely had time to react, your own sword drawn, but before you could strike, bakugou was there- his fist slamming into the bandit’s face with a force that sent him flying into a tree.

“you okay?” his voice was low, the familiar scowl back on his face, but there was something else in his eyes- something deeper, protective.

“i’m fine, thank you,” you said, though your pulse still raced. “but you’re reckless.”

that night, as you sat beside the fire, you couldn’t help but notice how close he had gotten. not just physically, but emotionally. the long silences that had once stretched were now filled with casual teasing, shared laughter, and the occasional quiet conversation that stretched into the night.

he started to ask you more about your past, though never prying too deep. when you mentioned your travels, he listened intently, his usual bravado replaced by something softer, more curious.

one evening, you found yourselves at the edge of a cliff, watching the sunset paint the sky in streaks of orange and purple. bakugou stood next to you, arms crossed, but this time, he didn’t seem so distant.

“you ever stop to think about what you’re doing here?” he asked, his voice quiet.

you glanced to him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. “what do you mean?”

“i mean… why are you still here? with me, i mean. not everyone’s cut out for this kind of life. it’s not easy.” he shifted slightly, his gaze faraway.

you smiled softly, the memories of your past life flickering at the edges of your thoughts. “i think i’m exactly where i need to be.”

his eyes flickered to you, narrowing slightly as though trying to decipher your meaning. but then, without a word, he reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

you froze, feeling the connection between you stir once more, and you didn’t pull away. neither of you said anything, but in that quiet moment, it felt like the world had shifted.

and with every passing day, the distance between you- the one he had built, the one you had tried so hard to bridge- was slowly disappearing.

he had started to remember, in the smallest ways.

you were sitting by the fire, cleaning your sword after another skirmish with a band of raiders. bakugou was sharpening his blade beside you, his usual scowl etched across his face, but there was something different in his eyes- something far away.

“oi,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “you ever feel like… like this isn’t the first time we’ve done this?”

you paused mid-motion, your fingers tightening around the hilt of your sword. you glanced up at him, trying to hide the flutter of your heart.

“what do you mean?” you asked, though you already knew.

He shifted. “i dunno. it’s just… every time we fight together, or when we get quiet like this, it feels… familiar. like i’ve known ya longer than the past year.”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral. “maybe you just got used to traveling with me.”

but deep down, you knew the truth.

it wasn’t just the time he had spent with you. it was something deeper- something he was starting to sense, like the lingering pull of a forgotten memory.

a few days passed, and the feeling seemed to grow stronger. every so often, you’d catch him staring at you, like he was seeing something more than just the person beside him. one evening, as the sun dipped behind the mountains, bakugou spoke, his voice unusually quiet. his eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed into a tight line as if he were grappling with something just beyond his reach. “i’ve seen you before… but where?”

that night, as you both lay beneath the stars, the fire crackling softly, bakugou’s sleep was fitful. he tossed and turned, his brow furrowed in frustration.

when he woke the next morning, he didn’t immediately look at you. he sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“i had a dream,” he muttered, more to himself than you. “a dream about… us. it felt real. like we’ve been through so many things together before.”

your heart raced. you remained still, waiting for him to continue.

“it wasn’t just some damn dream. it was real. i don’t remember everything, but i know… i know i’ve been with you before, haven’t i?”

you could feel the weight of his words, the hesitation, the confusion in his voice. and yet, despite the uncertainty, there was something else- something that made you know that he was starting to remember.

for the first time since meeting him in this life, you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. his muscles tensed at your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“yes,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “we’ve been together before. more times than either of us can count.”

bakugou turned to face you then, his eyes wide and the usual fire dimming in them for a moment. “why can’t i remember? why does it feel like i’m losing my mind?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. “maybe it’s not time for you to remember completely yet. but it will be, eventually. i promise.”

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. he simply stared at you, as if searching for something in your eyes- something that would make sense of the chaos inside of him.

and then, without a word, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative at first, unsure. but as you kissed him back, something shifted. the connection between you, long buried beneath layers of forgotten lives, began to resurface, like a flood of memories fighting to break free.

when he pulled back, his breath was uneven, and his hands trembled slightly as they hovered at your sides.

“i remember you,” he whispered, his voice raw. “i remember you… even if i can’t remember everything.”

you smiled, feeling the weight of years of love and loss that led to this moment. “it’s okay. you don’t have to remember everything right now. we have all the time we need.”

years passed, and the world around you both seemed to change, even though the battles and struggles never truly stopped. the two of you, side by side, had seen countless faces come and go, witnessed victories and losses alike.

the bond between you and bakugou had only deepened, but time, as it always did, wore on. you both had grown, in ways both subtle and grand, shaped by everything you’d endured together. bakugou was still the warrior he had always been, strong and fierce, but the fire that once burned so brightly within him was now tempered by the passing of the years.

one evening, as the sky painted itself in shades of pink and purple, you stood together at the edge of the very same cliff from years ago, overlooking a valley. the winds had settled, and there was nothing but the hum of the earth, as if everything had come full circle. bakugou stood beside you, his posture strong, but the weight of the years was beginning to show.

“do you ever think… that maybe we’re finally done with all of this?” he asked, his voice quiet but carrying the years of uncertainty and battles fought. his gaze was distant, looking at the horizon, but his words were for you alone.

you took a deep breath, feeling the wind sweep across your face, tasting the salt of the distant sea. “maybe. but i think we’ll always find something else. something worth fighting for.”

he chuckled softly, though it was laced with an edge of something unreadable. “always you, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

you smiled softly, turning to face him. “always you, too.”

and so, you and the barbarian king looked out across the vast horizon, and you knew that although this life might be winding down, the end of this era was just another beginning waiting to unfold.

—

the blaring sun in the sky casted it’s golden glow over the vast expanse of the ocean as your ship sliced through the waves. your crew worked in rhythm, their shouts and laughter carried by the salty breeze as they adjusted sails and checked the rigging. you stood at the helm, your fingers gripping the wheel with practiced ease, eyes scanning the horizon.

you’d been sailing for days now, the winds favorable and the sea calm. it wasn’t until the sun dipped lower that you saw it. a ripple in the water, far off in the distance but growing closer. at first, you thought it was perhaps some large fish breaching the surface. but then, you saw him.

a flash of pale golden hair broke through the waves, followed by the sleek and powerful form of a merman. he was a striking contrast to the dark water, with glistening crimson scales that shimmered like polished gemstones. his tail flicked in the sea, the sharp movement sending waves against the ship’s hull.

but it wasn’t the sheer power of the creature that caught your attention. it was the way he moved, the way he looked at you. his eyes locked onto yours, and your heart swelled knowing that you had finally come across your love yet again in this life. your katsuki.

the merman’s lips curled into a smirk as he swam closer, the water parting as if he owned the sea himself. his muscular form stopped just short of the ship, hovering in the water as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

“so you’re the captain of the crimson tempest, huh?” his voice was deep and rough, carrying the weight of the ocean itself. he eyed you with a critical gaze. “i’ve been hearing rumors about ya. thought i’d come see for myself.”

you felt the familiar rush of recognition, but you knew better than to show too much. he didn’t remember yet- as usual. the bond between you that transcended time, that only you knew, was still buried deep within him. but here, in this new life, you had to tread carefully.

you leaned against the ship’s wheel, matching his gaze with calm confidence, despite the racing pulse in your chest. “what’s it to you, merman?” you asked, keeping your voice steady despite the longing that you felt deep inside. “i don’t know what rumors you’ve heard, but they’re just that- rumors.”

he didn’t falter, though something flickered in his intense red eyes. it was there, something beneath the surface that he couldn’t quite grasp, but you could feel it. you could always feel it when he was near.

“you don’t look like the kind of captain i’d expect,” he said, his smirk widening into something dangerous. “but i guess you don’t need to look the part to be effective, right?”

you chuckled darkly, a small smirk of your own pulling at your lips. “i’m plenty effective, merman. you’d do well to remember that.”

you saw a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of something you both had shared before. but it vanished quickly, swallowed by the vastness of the sea between you.

“maybe i will,” he muttered, though the words seemed to hold a different meaning. his lips parted, as if to say more, but instead, he just gave you a short nod.

then, without another word, bakugou dove beneath the water, his powerful form disappearing into the depths, leaving only the gentle ripples of the sea in his wake.

a few days later, you steered the crimson tempest into a small, sheltered cove. the crew had already begun preparations to unload. the ship finally came to a halt against the dock, and after doing your part of the unloading you made your way off the ship and onto the sandy beach of the cove.

and then you heard the sound of water splashing, too rhythmic to be a simple wave. your instincts kicked in and you turned just in time to see a flash of pale blonde hair rising from the water’s surface.

his presence was commanding as usual, and for the briefest of moments, you forgot about all of your responsibilities as captain. all that mattered was him- the katsuki you had fallen in love with over and over again.

he pulled himself onto a nearby rock, water dripping off his body. his gaze never left you, intense and unreadable. the usual cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and you could feel the pull of his presence like an invisible thread between you both.

“you seem to be everywhere i go, captain,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “figured i’d find you here too.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his words, but beneath the teasing tone, there was something more- an underlying tension, an unspoken understanding that had been brewing ever since your first meeting. it was as if he was beginning to recognize something too, even if he didn’t have the words for it yet. even if he didn’t remember.

“you’ve been following me,” you replied, your voice calm but with a hint of amusement. “what is it you want, merman?”

“what i want?” he let out a low chuckle, his voice like the rolling waves. “i’m not sure yet. maybe i just like seeing if i can catch your attention.”

“well,” you said, your tone steady but not without a trace of amusement, “it looks like you’ve caught it.” you will always have it.

you took a step closer, the air between you crackling with an undeniable tension, as if the universe itself were drawing you together again. the warmth of the sun on your skin and the distant sound of your crew working on the ship felt like a distant hum compared to the pulse of energy between you and the merman. it was magnetic, powerful, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

he studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he held your gaze that made your heart race. “you’re different,” he said finally, his voice almost quiet. “can’t put my finger on it.”

you almost laughed at the irony, knowing all too well what that something was. you weren’t just another face to him. you were the one he had always come back to, again and again, in every lifetime.

“i think we’ll figure it out,” you replied softly, the undertone of promise hanging in the air.

and then, as if he had just come to a silent conclusion, his smirk returned, but this time it wasn’t teasing. it was real. a promise.

“alright then, captain” he said, his voice low and steady. “i think i’ll stick around. for a while.”

and so, the tide carried on, as it always had, bringing you together once more, just as it always would.

—

the city stretched out before you like a jagged labyrinth of glowing neon signs and towering skyscrapers, the horizon obscured by the haze of pollution and constant movement. neo-musutafu, a city that never slept, pulsed with the rhythm of the future, its streets crawling with the lost, the desperate, and the dangerous. high above, the hum of drones filled the air, ensuring that no one forgot who controlled the night.

you stood at the edge of the rooftop, your gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the flashing lights. the winds howled, carrying the smells of the city- oil, rain, and something darker. below, the streets were alive with a mixture of humans and aliens, some here to live, some here to fight. your job? to ensure the latter didn’t survive.

you were a hunter, part of a covert division tasked with eradicating alien threats before they had a chance to invade. but unlike the other hunters, you didn’t follow the company line blindly. your methods were efficient, precise, and without mercy- traits that had earned you respect, but also enemies. the company you worked for was one of many, and all had their own way of dealing with the extraterrestrial threats. your company? a well-oiled machine, protecting humanity at all costs.

it wasn’t glamorous, but it was necessary.

as you adjusted the grip on your weapons, the sharp hiss of your comm device broke the silence. “hunter 19, we have a target. a class-4 alien near the central district. immediate extraction is required.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. in this line of work, hesitation was a luxury no one could afford. strapping your weapons securely, you made your way down the building to the streets below. your mind was already working through the logistics where the alien would strike, how to contain the threat, and the quickest route to the rendezvous point.

this life had worn down both your heart and mind. though the memories of your past lives with your beloved lingered, the countless alien lives you had taken- the blood spilled in the name of duty- had slowly suffocated your spirit, leaving a shadow over your thoughts that you couldn’t shake. for once, you did not go out of your way to find bakugou. he was a dear, but faraway memory. a memory that was too good for someone like you.

you arrived at the outskirts of the central district, the city’s neon lights flickering in the distance like the heartbeat of a restless giant. the alien was close now. the familiar thump of your combat boots on the cold asphalt was a stark contrast to the chaos that simmered just beyond the horizon. you didn’t have to be told twice. every instinct you had honed in your years as a hunter kicked into gear.

the silence stretched, heavy and thick. then, without warning, the alien struck, it’s massive form tearing through the shadows. a blur of movement, its skin slick and black as it lunged toward you. your reflexes took over, but as you dodged, something about the alien’s speed and strength unsettled you. this wasn’t a typical battle.

the alien wasn’t going to make this easy.

the alien roared as it stumbled back, its claws slicing through the air just inches from your skin. you had barely managed to evade its strike, your weapon raised, ready to retaliate when the sudden sound of footsteps broke through the silence.

a shadow darted into your peripheral vision. a figure, hooded and cloaked in dark attire, lunged toward the alien with lightning speed, and in a series of fluid movements, the creature was brought to the ground.

you froze for a moment, startled by the intruder’s sudden appearance. before you could react, the hooded figure twisted, driving a sharp blade straight through the alien’s chest. it let out one last guttural screech before its body went limp.

the hooded figure stood still, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, the alien’s blood dripping from his blade. the streetlights above flickered briefly as if even the city itself had taken a collective breath.

you snapped out of your shock, clenching your fists. your voice rang out, sharp and scathing as you strode toward him. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

the hooded man didn’t flinch at your approach, but his back remained to you, his posture tense. you could tell he wasn’t afraid, and that pissed you off even more. your tone was cold, but there was an edge of frustration you couldn’t hide.

“you think you can just waltz in and kill like that?” your voice grew louder, shaking with the weight of your own guilt. “you’ve got a life on your hands now, a soul you’ve taken. is that really what you want?”

the anger bubbled up inside you, a mix of protectiveness and the instinct to save others from the same burden you carried. your gaze narrowed at the man’s back. “you don’t know what it’s like to have blood stain your hands, do you? to have to live with it, knowing you’ve taken a life… i don’t want that for you. i don’t want you to feel the same damn thing i do.”

the hooded man stood motionless for a long moment, before he slowly lowered the blade and turned toward you, his posture stiff. you couldn’t see his face- just the dark outline beneath the hood- but there was something in his presence, something familiar. it made your stomach twist, a feeling you couldn’t place.

and then, he slowly removed his hood.

the world seemed to stop for a beat, the neon lights casting a glow as your eyes locked onto his face.

those same eyes.

“…(y/n).”

your name. he had said it.

he had never remembered you first before; it was always you who had to find him. but now, the man you had loved through countless lives, the one you had adored over and over again, stood before you.

and you were a monster. he had found you, but at what cost?

you did not reach out to hold him, you did not run into his embrace. instead, you averted your gaze, shielding your eyes from him.

“i’m sorry,” you said, fists clenching by your sides. “i’m not the one you once loved.”

bakugou’s expression twisted, his jaw tightening as if the words stung more than they should have. his eyes, fierce and unwavering, bore into yours as he took a step closer.

“don’t say that,” he growled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “i remember you. from the moment i was born in this life, i remembered all of our past lives. every damn moment of them. i’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

he paused, his chest rising with each breath as if trying to steady the storm building inside him. his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a force that made you flinch, pulling you toward him.

“i don’t give a shit about what you’ve done. none of that matters. it will always be you. it’s always been you, no matter how many lives we’ve lived.” his eyes softened, but the intensity remained. “you’re mine, and no way in hell am i letting you go.”

tears streamed down your face as you struggled in his grip, desperate to break free. “you don’t understand,” your voice cracked, raw with pain. “i have a trail of blood behind me, lives i’ve destroyed… everywhere i go, i carry their ghosts. i’ve hurt so many, katsuki! i’m not the same person!”

katsuki’s grip softened, but only for a moment before he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. you felt the heat of his body, the steadiness of his heartbeat, and for a second, it grounded you in a way nothing else could. his voice was low but firm, holding an edge of desperation.

“don’t tell me you’re not the same person,” he murmured into your hair. “i’ll fall in love with you every damn time, no matter what you’ve done or how many lives you’ve taken. you’re still the one i’m meant to be with. always have been.”

he pulled back slightly, enough to look you in the eyes. “you can carry your burdens all you want, but you don’t have to carry them alone. i’m right here, and i’m not going anywhere.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, the weight of them crashing down on you like a wave. the tears continued to fall, but this time, they weren’t just from pain- they were from a relief so deep, it left you breathless. you slowly lifted your gaze to his, meeting the intensity of his eyes, and for the first time in this life, the past ones, everything seemed to fall into place.

the countless lives, the struggles, the distance between you- it had all led you here, to this moment. and no matter what had happened before, no matter the paths you had walked, there was one undeniable truth that echoed through the core of your being: you were meant to be together.

you trembled as you cupped his face with shaking hands, your voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you’d felt across all lifetimes.

“katsuki,” you breathed, your heart pounding. “i… i love you. i always have, and i always will.”

his thumb traced the tear stains on your cheeks before lifting your chin, his gaze softening, but the passion in his eyes was unmistakable.

“i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i love you too, always. every lifetime, i find you. and i’ll keep finding you.”

in that moment, everything that had ever separated you- every pain, every fight, every lifetime- faded away. the world around you disappeared as you stood together, hearts in sync.

the universe had tried to pull you apart, had tried to erase the love you shared, but it had failed. you were soulmates- bound together in ways beyond time and death. no matter what came next, nothing would keep you apart.

you both leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips finding his in a kiss that sealed your fate. the kiss was not just a promise for this life, but for every life that had come before and every one that would follow.

and as the kiss deepened, as his arms tightened around you, you both knew- the story wasn’t over. it had never truly ended. it had only just begun.

—

this whole thing is based off the song would you fall in love with me again by jorge rivera-herrans, especially the last part of it. (no seriously. listened exactly 26 times while writing)

i’d love to write more about these universes! inbox is open.

[cute-sucker]

being rafe's girl meant giggling along to his jokes, as his hand was possessively wrapped around your waist.

being rafe's girl meant sitting in his lap during important meetings, bright eyes, and whispering in his ear every single time you didn't understand something (50% you were just looking at him confused)

being rafe's girl meant wearing your wedding ring, and whenever someone got too close - flashing it in their eyes so they knew who you belonged to

being rafe's girl was seeing him in his worst, and best, as his bleary eyes called out for you, you cooed at him like he was the prince in your fairy tales

being rafe's girl meant going to the beach, before shrieking going into the water, and then jumping out with a cute pout on your face, demanding that rafe buy you an ice cream

being rafe's girl meant that he would smile at you earnestly, from ear to ear, and someone people would be so shocked seeing you - a cute thing that was hanging on his lap

being rafe's girl meant going to his work and accidentally getting mistaken for his worker, and ending up doing some work at his firm before him coming to find you

being rafe's girl was getting special attention the minute rafe found out you had been mistaken for his worker, and getting that very same person who forced you into the job fired

being rafe's girl meant playing the piano for him, and then shly asking rafe to join, as you watched his trembling hands reminisce of a time that was better than all

being rafe girl was jumping into his arms every single time he came home, kissing his cheeks, and then telling him how much you missed him,

being rafe's girl meant many things <3

[teatreeoilll]

If you were to ask Gojo Satoru who his first kiss was, he would always say it was you - making everyone at the dinner table, party, or bar look up at him with dreamy eyes while mouthing small awws and oohs to match.

And you’d sit there in silence, listening to him tell that blatant lie as your face grew red and your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, knowing that he had, in fact, kissed many girls before; whether they pressed their lips to his in high school parties, or grinded against him in clubs until finally shoving their tongues in his mouth; he had already done it plenty of times before he had ever laid eyes on you.

But on some drowsy night, when the thought first popped in his head, he muttered the words into the air like a prayer, “You know you were my first kiss, right?”

And he pouted when you laughed at what you felt was the nth joke of the day, until he started softly explaining that each kiss before you had never felt like what a kiss was supposed to be like; That when for the first time you finally found the courage to grab his face and press your lips to his, he knew the true terror of kissing. How he was scared that his tongue was too deep in your mouth even though he wanted to push it deeper and deeper, and how when you smiled against his lips, his stomach did cartwheels for hours after it ended.

“You don’t get to choose these things, Satoru.” You reprimanded, but never corrected him once.

[alrightberries]

*heavy sigh* barbarian bkg kidnapping the princess from the neighboring kingdom as a strategic move to lure out your father's knights and slaughter them as revenge for the warrior your people have killed, but it's been two full moons and neither the king nor his knights have come for you

and you... you've been the freest you've ever felt, with no knights guarded by your doors or tutors drilling politics in your head while your father pretends that you, the bastard daughter, has never existed and kept you either busy with extracurriculars or locked in your room so he never has to face you

and bakugou... watching you play wrestle with his tribe's children, pick the loose scales off his dragon's back, read the scrolls to learn his language, chew out the elders when they mentioned your name and the word 'sacrifice' and bakugou's never laughed harder in his life at their stupid dumb founded faces

and that was— that was all you were to him. a sacrifice, he reminds himself. a pig waiting for slaughter while he rethinks his strategies and reorganizes his plan to get revenge at your tyrant of a father who killed his men.

...but later, of course. not now. not when you're dancing around the fire with his people, in his home, singing the songs of his tribe and looking every bit like the woman the oracle described to be his future queen, while his parents share a knowing look

[kittykalliarts]

For decades, the blank vision that Iudex Neuvillette wears near his heart has been subject to much discussion in Fontaine. Nobody remembers who it had once belonged to or why the ancient dragon protected it so jealously. It is said that if the Chief Justice would to stare at it for a long while, it would be sure to rain right after. Oh, how beloved that person must've been.

[flame-cat]

stan gets the portal going and gets ford back. ford is big mad and wants nothing to do with him. stan doesnt make it far before his car breaks down. tries to fleece the people in town to get it fixed. ends up making things much worse for himself. a week passes, hes chased out of town, the cops are after him, and hes maybe a bit starving. a tiny bit. maybe. so the cops find his car and chase him out into the woods, he loses them. but he finds something else.

something hungry.

he dispatches it, but not without losing both quite a bit of blood and all sense of direction (and any faculties he had left). he stumbles until he sees a vague structure. he knocks on the door.

ford answers with a crossbow for the second time.

this time, stan cant manage a sarcastic response.

ford goes from shocked, to appalled, to bemused in seconds. "what are you doing here?"

stan blinks at him. "i dont know."

a few shivering seconds pass. stan starts to list sideways. ford catches him on instinct. before either of them know it, stan is being lead to sit on the couch.

"... what happened to you?"

stan curls inward and winces. "got caught, i guess."

its clear hes fading fast. ford resists the urge to shake him. "why are you still in gravity falls?"

stan struggles to think of an answer. "i couldnt... engine froze over."

ford did not consider that. "... ah."

there is another long pause.

"... and you didnt think to get it fixed, or take a bus, or...?"

stan laughs hollowly, then that laugh turns into coughing. he doesn't explain why thats so funny to him.

"... right. i believe you're delirious," ford assesses. "i'll be right back."

damn him. always cleaning up his brothers messes.

when ford gets back with a blanket and some coffee, stan is either asleep or unconscious. he is also bleeding quite a lot.

... maybe he shouldnt have left him alone.

[chrissv4mp]

♱ ONE DOOR DOWN

warnings. smut, use of y/l/n, masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex, subtop!billie, dirty talk, mild praise kink, language.

synopsis. your counselor asks you to ride along with the track team while they're on their tournament. you're not particularly happy about it, until rooms are assigned and billie texts you late at night.

au. g!p jock!billie × leadership/cheerleader!reader

words. 3.7k

letters. quickest thing i've written in a while, WHO CHEERED 😛

you found out during sixth period. just before class ended, your name was called over the intercom to come to the counselor's office, and your leadership advisor had told you there was some kind of last-minute shuffle, that the chosen leadership rep had something come up and they couldn't make it.

she follows up by saying you're the next best choice because you're "reliable," "organized," and "a good presence for the younger athletes." along with a quiet comment about how you were the first choice, but they decided to give someone else a chance.

you want to say no. want to point out the large stack of homework on your desk that you'd usually have done by now but got too busy, the group project in history that no one else is working on, the way you hate long bus rides and shared hotel rooms and being in charge of a bunch of kids who don't listen.

but you don't.

because you're reliable. organized. a good presence.

so now it's friday night and you're standing in an—almost empty—hotel lobby six hours away from home, sitting and staring at a man arguing with the front desk ladies.

the head track coach is listing off room assignments, voice heavy with exhaustion and irritation from the long, rowdy bus ride here. people are cheering tiredly once they hear their names together, some groaning, and others immediately rushing down the stairs and to the elevators in an effort to beat the other there.

you're leaning your chin against the palm of your hand, nearly asleep, when you hear your name being called.

"y/l/n," coach avery murmurs. "and... eilish. rooms 129, 130."

billie glances over at you, backpack slung over her shoulder, duffel bag hanging loosely on her other. her lips twitch up in a small smirk as she nods at you, the hall, and then gets up without another word.

you follow behind her slowly, feet dragging against the carpet as you make your way to the elevators. it's quiet until you reach the second floor and check into your room, the door shutting behind you. that's when you finally let out a groan of exhaustion.

before anything else, you drop your backpack in the corner along with your suitcase, unpacking your toothbrush, hairbrush, and makeup. you set everything in the bathroom, then go back out into the room and unpack your outfit for tomorrow, setting it on the little desk by the tv.

with that done, you turn off the overhead lights, strip out of your clothes, climb under the sheets, and flick on the bedside lamp, getting comfortable beneath the soft comforter and trying to ignore the hard feeling of the pillows.

then a door opens. and it's not the room door.

it's the adjoining door between yours and billie's rooms. your eyelids flutter open slowly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, squinting.

she's leaning against the door frame, towel slung around her neck, sports bra hugging her chest, collarbones still a little damp from her shower.

"goin' to bed so soon?" she asks, voice smooth, low. teasing.

you pretend not to look at her chest. or the way her shorts hung low on her hips. you fail. miserably. so, you try to brush it off with a reply. "that bus ride was hell. i'm surprised you're not dead asleep right now."

billie grins, stepping into your room. "can't go to bed without a kiss, boss, you know that."

that stupid nickname. she'd started calling you that recently, and ever since, it stuck with her. and you hated how much it actually effected you, how much you loved hearing the way it rolled off her tongue.

"mhmm," you deadpan. "well, tonight, you're going to."

she groans loudly, exaggerating the sound and acting like you just stabbed her right through the heart. billie fake-limps toward the bed, fingers curling at the edge of the mattress and frowning when she sees you roll back onto your side.

"baby," she whispers. "you're, like, a different person when you're tired. it's kinda funny." you roll your eyes at that.

when you kick her from under the sheets, she jumps back. "but alright. whatever you say, boss."

"take your ass to bed, billie," you grumble under the sheets.

and she does, muttering a small "i love you" before she pads back into her own room, not even bothering to lock the door behind her. when she leaves, you think it'll be easier to get to bed. but it's quite the opposite, especially with the loud ac humming in the room and the thoughts of c's and d's filling your grade book when you get back.

the missing assignments you had were already starting to pile up, and you couldn't afford to get kicked off the leadership team this late into the year just because mrs. johnson is on top of everything with her grading technique.

so you slip the covers off your body and walk over to your backpack, grabbing your laptop from inside of it and crawling back into bed. the bright screen so close to your face makes you flinch when you open it, not used to the lighting this late at night.

you go through multiple assignments in the span of 15 minutes, answering test questions like they're preschool topics, along with fixing up the weekly newsletter that always seemed to have a million typos although the writer was your english teacher. you couldn't blame him through, you always saw mr. grayson falling asleep behind his desk while flipping through a powerpoint.

the chill of the ac makes you shiver. and it's nearly midnight when your phone dings, lighting up on the bedside table and catching your attention.

shutting your laptop and setting it on the table where your phone was placed, you grab the small device and unlock it. it's billie.

bils, 11:48pm: it's cold without u

bils, 11:48pm: keep turning over like ur gonna be there

bils, 11:49pm: wanna feel your skin on mine.

your breath hitches, eyes flicking over the words over and over again like if you re-read them you'll maybe see something different. but, nope, it's exactly what you think.

she was always like this. bold. shameless. never scared to send something risky. and this just proves it.

but you don't give her the satisfaction of your real reaction.

you, 11:51pm: you should've stretched harder today, eilish. maybe you'd be faster at getting over yourself.

the message doesn't even read 'delivered,' it just flicks to 'read' as soon as it's sent. you see the typing bubble appear as you laugh, then they disappear.

no reply for a few minutes.

you blink once. twice.

one message, plus an attachment.

you open it. and—god, this girl might be the death of you.

billie. lying in her already messy bed, sheets pulled down low on her body. bare chest on full display, the swell of muscle visible under soft skin. she has one arm bent behind her head, the other resting low on her stomach. your eyes trace over the faint lines of her abs until you realize it—her hard, thick length protruding from between her legs.

the tip is red, swollen and dripping with precum already. it's resting against her lower stomach, veins running up the base and making your stomach twist.

your mouth goes dry.

the text under the photo doesn't help.

bils, 11:57: need u bad. pls come over here.

you let out a small sigh, shaky and desperate as your eyes flick to the door. it's cracked open just a bit, giving you the smallest opening to peek through. but all you can see from your bed is the edge of her mattress.

so you get up, slowly, pushing the covers off and stepping onto the soft hotel carpet. your heart stutters as you reach for the door handle, fingers twitching—but then you hear it, and you swear your heart stops for a moment.

quiet whimpers, shaky gasps, broken moans of curses and—and your name. repeatedly. those words catch your attention before the fast, wet squelching sound does. she's touching herself. couldn't even wait until you got there.

it makes you even wetter than before.

you twist the handle slowly, pushing the door open all the way and freezing in place when you finally see her. billie. at the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around her length as the other gripped the sheets so tight her knuckles bled white. her skin was shiny with a thin layer of sweat, strands of hair sticking to her neck and forehead as she stroked herself.

her room is darker. warmer. it smells like vanilla lotion and her arousal. you can hear the faint voice of some sports commentator on the tv, but nothing can overpower her desperate moans and the sound of her hand pumping up and down her dick.

when you step in and shut the door behind you, billie finally looks up—eyelids hooded, lips parted and swollen from biting down so hard, cheeks flushed. she moans quieter, hand stopping at the tip of her length.

"knew you'd come," she smirks lazily, voice low. needy.

you swallow hard, hands moving to grip the dresser like you need an anchor.

"you're insane," you breathe. hardly a whisper.

"'nd you're late," she murmurs, eyes dragging hungrily over your body. "missed you." she whines, and your knees almost give out beneath you.

her breathing becomes even less even than before as you slowly stalk over, brows furrowing like the space between your two bodies physically aches. because it does.

she watches as you cross the room. slow. cautious. like you're afraid she'll disappear if you blink.

you stop just a few inches from where she's sat at the edge of the bed. her head tips back to look you in the eyes, seeing the desperation swirling in your irises even in the dark atmosphere of the room.

"please, c'mere," she begs, breathless.

the rapid beating of your heart against your chest is so loud you swear she can hear it. but you step closer anyway.

her hands find your hips immediately, pulling at the hem of your shorts and whining when you place your hands atop of hers, stopping her movements. you watch as her hips buck instinctively when you lean down to press a kiss to her lips—a quick one, leaving her wanting more when you pull back.

a small grin pulls at your lips when you feel her fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts.

"been thinking 'bout you all day," she says quietly, lower lip trembling. "watchin' you—mm, boss everyone 'round, lookin' so pretty in your little leadership shirt... had—god, it drove me crazy."

your breath stutters.

her eyes meet yours again—dark, needy, so full of longing to feel you against her, to feel you around her.

"billie, you can't just—" her lips find yours before you can finish your sentence, kissing you like she's been waiting for this since the moment she stepped on the bus.

and she has.

the second her tongue slips between your lips, you lose any ounce of self control you might've had left. her hands tug harder at your shorts, huffing in frustration against your mouth when you deny her once again.

billie whimpers against your lips, eyes fluttering open. "i'll be so good for you tonight."

and how could you not believe her? you always do.

still, you remove her hands from your hips and nod over toward the headboard. billie gets the message quickly, scooting back onto the mattress until her back hits the board. you rid yourself of your shorts, hearing billie's breath hitch at the sight of your curves in the shadows.

you crawl onto the comforter, eyes flicking to the way her cock stands proudly between her leg—9 inches. that's what she'd always brag about over calls when she was away for meets, games, tournaments. just whenever she was away from you for more than a day.

you'd only ever seen her once. just taking her into your mouth was a struggle by itself—you have no idea how big she'd feel inside of you.

billie shivers when you straddle her lap, hovering over her just close enough that it drives her crazy. lips close enough to hers that she'd feel your breath fanning across her skin, to watch the way her eyes search yours like she's trying to figure out if you're actually real.

"prove it to me," you whisper.

and billie wastes no time.

not rushed, definitely not slow—but intentional. she straightens up, hand sliding down your side until it rested on your hip, tugging you gently to fully sit down on her lap. her lips brush your collarbones, free hand pulling the strap of your tank top to the side so that she'd have more access to your smooth, soft skin.

her mouth is warm. lips pressing the most gentle, caring kisses along your neck, jaw, and cheek, until she reaches your lips and she really can't continue with the softness.

you kiss her back with the same amount of fervor, hands reaching around to tangle in her hair, nails digging into her scalp and massaging softly—so soft it elicits the smallest whine from billie.

the tips of her fingers tease the edge of your top, sneaking under the hem, not quite waiting for confirmation but not exactly rushing it either.

"couldn't wait 'til after your meet tomorrow, could you?" you tease against her lips, pulling away just to see her.

she shakes her head quickly.

you pause. "use your words, track star."

billie's cheeks flush in embarrassment at the name. "y'looked too good to wait. needed my hands on you now."

her hands slide around, moving to your back slow and reverent, pulling your shirt over your head. you shiver when the cold air hits your skin, but her hands are warm and grounding and right there, soothing the chill and teasing the clasp of your bra.

your lips curl into a smirk when she doesn't undo it, pulling away just enough to take her in, your eyes dark and teasing.

"gonna do something or are you just gonna stare?"

billie huffs, pouting and working her fingers quickly on the clasp, undoing it and watching as you slide the straps off your shoulders, throwing it to the floor without a care in the world.

"you're so pretty," she mumbles, leaning close and pressing sloppy kisses down your sternum. "so perfect."

you tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in the feeling of billie's plump lips wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking along the bud until she feels it harden beneath the stimulation. she moves on, her hand coming up to palm your breast as she wraps her lips around your other nipple, earning a pleased moan from between your lips.

her hand grabs your thigh so tight you're sure it'll bruise in the shape of her palm, dragging you down closer on her lap where she's already so hard it makes your head spin.

you grind into her mindlessly, hips moving on instinct. she lets out this soft, broken sound against your skin that makes your entire body throb, arousal pooling into your panties and forming an obvious wet spot. her hips buck up, eyebrows furrowing in painful pleasure.

"please. please, baby," she begs, letting your nipple go and resting her forehead on your chest. "want—fuck, i need to be inside you so... so bad."

"show me," you say, just as needy. "be good like you promised."

her eyes flutter shut at your tone, her trembling lip caught between her teeth. her hands slide back down to your hips, lifting you without struggle, bucking her hips up against the thin fabric separating your arousal from hers.

she breathes heavy into your neck, whining and whimpering as she rocks her hips against the warm fabric, feeling your sticky slick even through your panties. "take 'em off—"

"s'no time," she cuts you off with a moan, a few octaves higher than before. "can't—baby, i can't w—wait anymore."

"then don't."

billie shivers when it reaches her ears, one of her hands coming down between your legs to push your panties aside. you hover over her, lips parted slightly as you slowly lower yourself down onto her cock. you choke on a moan before you're even past the tip, feeling just how big she really is.

what she feels somehow seems more enhanced—especially with the way she's shaking and gasping and digging her nails into your skin. she can't take her eyes off the way your pussy swallows her so well, taking inch by inch with hardly any pauses.

your fingers pull at her hair harsher than before, unable to contain yourself once she finally bottoms out.

"fuck, fuck, fuuckk—so... you're so tight, ma," she whimpers, stumbling over her words, cock throbbing. "feels... s'good."

a moan of her name rips through your throat when she bucks her hips up without control, both of your eyes squeezing shut at how good it felt. she grabs your hips tight, thrusting up in sloppy, deep motions that make the whole hotel room fade away until it's just you, billie, and the heat blooming in your stomach.

every time she brings you down, she whispers something.

"so tight."

"missed you."

"wanted this so bad."

"wanna make you cum," she whines, head falling back against the headboard when she feels you clench around her throbbing length.

your jaw falls agape when billie's hand sneaks between your thighs and starts to rub tight, controlled circles on your puffy clit, urging your hips to move forward against the extra stimulation.

when your bounces start to get slower, billie whimpers and quickly—but gently—flips you over, your back on the mattress and her body hovering over you. her hips never stop moving, thrusting faster and deeper and maintaining a steady pace.

"bein' so good f'me," you praise between moans, nails dragging down billie's back and leaving a trail of marks. "fuck, don't stop, bil."

she whimpers directly into your ear, her rapid breath fanning across your neck and sending goosebumps all along your body. your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer and causing her dick to slide deeper into your cunt, her tip kissing your cervix perfectly.

billie gasps loudly, brows furrowed and face red—you kiss her without wasting another second, not wanting her coach or one of her teammates to come knocking on your door telling you to be quiet. the teasing would be terrible for the next few months.

"gotta be quiet," you mutter against her swollen lips, "can you do that f'me, pretty girl?" you ask, voice broken.

she nods eagerly, lips finding yours again to shut herself up—she doesn't trust herself not to make more sounds with the way you're squeezing her so tight, the warm feeling in her belly nearly overwhelming.

you cum without warning, moan muffled against billie's lips, legs wrapped tightly around her waist as she fucks you through it, her hand between your bodies and rubbing your clit to help you ride your high through every last aftershock.

the feeling of your walls fluttering around her length had her head spinning, mouth running dry, the knot in her stomach about to snap. she just needed to warn you before—

"baby—oh fuck—baby, m'gonna cum," billie whines, hips stuttering, "can't—oh my god, i can't—"

you can't even process how billie pulls out just as she lets herself go, sticky, white ropes of her arousal pooling onto your skin and the ruined fabric of your panties. her breath comes out in fast, sharp gasps as she comes down, fingers wrapped around her length and pumping quickly to prolong her orgasm.

her hips still buck subconsciously even when she pulls her hand away, cock going soft.

the both of you just sit there for a few minutes, staring at the mess that billie made, breathing heavy in the warm space of the hotel room that you're realizing is really quiet now that you two aren't lost in the pleasure.

you see billie finally snap back into reality the second she hears your quiet giggles, eyes flicking up to yours. her cheeks flush under your gaze, hands moving to find the comforter and hide herself under it. she's so shy now that she isn't so needy. it's adorable.

"m'gonna go get a towel," billie murmurs quietly, fingers brushing along your thigh as she scoots off the bed and pulls on her discarded pajama shorts from before you came over.

she comes back from the bathroom after a few minutes, a damp towel in one hand. she parts your legs with her other hand, dragging the warm cloth along your skin to clean up her arousal. you shiver beneath the ticklish feeling, earning a small smirk from the girl between your legs.

"sorry," billie looks down again, clearing her throat. "...think i pulled out too late." she murmurs, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

a soft grin pulls at the corners of your lips at her words, your hands coming down to grab at her forearms. billie gets the memo, tossing the towel aside and crawling over your body. she can't even look you in the eyes she's so shy, so ruined.

"wasn't your fault," you say, trying not to giggle. "you looked so pretty trying not to fall apart. seeing that was an apology in itself, so don't feel bad, bil."

that's when she finally gathers enough courage to look at you, the fog in her head slowly starting to clear out and get replaced with her usual smug personality.

she pulls the covers over your body, fingers finding your hips and pulling you close to her under the fabric, lips finding your shoulder, your neck, your jaw—anywhere she could manage to reach, she pressed a kiss there, each one sweeter than the last.

"...still got that goodnight kiss," billie murmurs quietly, smug, a grin forming on her lips like she's proud of herself. "you said i'd have to live without out, but here i am."

"kissing you anywhere i want," she brags softly, laughing against your skin as she does exactly that.

you roll your eyes, "yeah, well those goodnight kisses better be worth whatever shit we'll have to face tomorrow."

she goes silent immediately, pulling away from your body only to stare you dead in the eyes like you just confessed your undying hatred toward her. you laugh at the way her cheeks flush 10x redder than before. but then she shrugs, leans forward, and presses her face into your neck again.

"worth it."

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @dyingbymistake @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises

[yan-randomfandom]

Hi! Is it possible to get a platonic Yandere Stanford with a teenager reader? The reader likes mysteries and monsters and all that just like him, so Stanford sees them and he’s like ‘yup. That’s my kid now’ lol

P!Yandere!Stanford Pines & Teenager!GN!Reader

warnings: violence(toward monsters), implied abuse

[THIS IS PLATONIC] I think I made this a tad too long... it's not even in bullet form anymore. thank you for the request! I love your idea sm 😭 [Word Count: 1047]

Stanford Pines has completed another mission. He lifted his head, his eyes squinting at the sight of the looming trees. The sun peeked between them, visibly on its way down.

To keep it short, he had to chase a dangerous, vile monster into the woods and take its life.

He probably saved thousands of lives. It's just that... it came down to the price of being lost. Ford has never gone this far from Gravity Falls before.

That's totally okay. Curious, even! This is perfect material for his research! He'll have to use a makeshift one for now—this cheap notebook he got from the gift shop.

As he was about to start writing, a panicked roar reverberated throughout the forest. Such strong growls—enough to blow away his clothes and body! Ford had to see it with his own eyes!

He ran and ran until he finally saw the giant. A single, widened eye stared at him, and suddenly he couldn't move anymore. Heavy breaths rose and plunged from his chest.

But he didn't have to worry any longer. A figure hopped down, continuously slicing the middle part of the eye as they descended.

Ford grunted, falling on his back as its blood squirted and leaked, even having some splatter on his nose. He watched the monster turn and run away, knowing that it'd die soon enough.

"Woah! Grandpa, you okay?" A small hand filled Ford's vision. "You froze up pretty quickly. I bet you'd be dead if I wasn't here!"

Once his vision finally cleared, he paused at the sight of a teenager. He's never seen this kid before. Ford cleared his throat, accepting your hand and standing up. "I'm fine. And don't call me that."

You hummed, tilting his open wallet with a nod. "I dunno. Being in your sixties sounds pretty old to me."

"What? How— When— Give me that!" Ford swiped his wallet out of you, to which you respond with a silly grin. He scoffed, crossing his arms. This is such a Stanley thing to do. "Who are you even, kid? Why are you out here?"

"I'm out adventuring!" you declared, placing your fists on your hips. You do certainly have equipment fit for an adventurer. "I mean, did you see me back there? Killed that monster with one swipe!"

Ford rubbed his chin in deep thought. He smiled. "That was pretty impressive. It reminds me of my nephew. You've gone straight towards the monster's weak point."

Unbeknownst to him, your face starts heating up from the praise. You've never received positive reactions from your oh-so-dangerous hobbies. "Well, yeah! It's no big deal. Eyes are usually common for being weak."

Ford chuckled. "Anyway, do you know the direction to Gravity Falls? I may be a little lost."

"Course, duh! It's like... that way! Opposite of the sun," you grinned, pointing behind him. He turned around to check, his shoulders slumping. You touched his nose with a grin when he looked back at you. What a Mabel type of personality. You were really just removing the monster's blood, though. "Boop!"

...Okay.

One glance at the sky, and Ford knew that there's no way he's going to go home at this time. While he loved adventuring, especially at night, he's still in undiscovered territory and would very much like to go home in one piece.

"Alrightnicetomeetyoudude! Byeeee! Good luck!" you exclaimed, already waving at him and walking away.

Wait! You're his only ticket out!

"Pray tell, kid, are you alone? Don't you have guardians or friends tagging along?" he asked hastily.

"Naw. I have parents waiting for me back home, though," you smiled.

Ford somehow convinced you to bring him home to yours.

Now, you stood in front of your house with him by your side. The older man couldn't help but notice that you looked a bit anxious, weirdly enough. You're scratching your arm.

The door finally opened. The first thing Ford saw was a frustrated face of an older woman, which was swiftly wiped when she took note of his presence. How odd.

"Oh, sweetie, who's this with you?"

"Found him in the woods! Isn't he neat?"

"Let's talk for a bit. Please give us a moment," the woman smiled at Ford, grabbing you before closing the door on him.

Ford awkwardly stood outside the house, checking his watch. Faint voices reached his ears. That's your mother, yes? She sounded upset. You sounded upset. He hasn't been in this dimension in a while, but would it really be so bad to take home a man you haven't met? He's just literally lost!

You opened the door. He froze when he met your tear-filled eyes.

"Sorry, whatever-your-name-is. I can't let you in," you muttered meekly. "But you can wait for me tomorrow. I'll help you go home. Bye."

The door closed. Why were you crying? That's not right.

Next day.

Ford waited for you on your front porch, mindlessly writing in his notebook. He had to sleep on a makeshift cushion of laundry. It wasn't the worst place to sleep, and he's just glad he didn't get caught.

"Good morning! You're early today!" you beamed, already walking.

"Is there anything I should know about your parents?" he deadpanned, trailing next to you.

You got uncomfortable quickly. "Uh, next question? Hey, look, a parasite! So weird!"

"Don't touch that! I can't believe it ranges up to here!"

The journey towards Gravity Falls felt long and tiring. But it simply made you and Ford closer.

"What's your name again?"

"Ford. Just call me Ford."

"For— Holy shit! I didn't even notice earlier! You have five fingers and a thumb!"

"Please—" he hid his hand in reflex.

"Six cylinders on your hand! That's so cool, Ford!"

Ford simply sighed, a smile growing on his lips.

Eventually, you both reach the mystery shack.

"Woah... That's yours? No wonder why you're so used to being in the woods. You live in one!"

Ford chuckled, opening the front door. "I can safely say you're going to get along with my family, kid."

...

You paused, hesitating. "I can't. I have to go home."

...

He smiled sweetly. "Not even for dinner? It'll be quick."

Your stomach growled quite loudly, causing your cheeks to heat up. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little."

Stepping right into the shack, Ford shuts the door behind you. He can't let you go back in that godforsaken house. You looked too miserable.

You can be happy with the Pines family here.

[joyfulhottubfuntik]

Shortly after weirdmageddon, when everyone is busy restoring the shack and tending to Stan, Ford approaches his brother. The latter doesn't remember him yet, as they hadn't really interacted one on one. He is doing well, though, all things considered, making swift progress in getting his memories back, there's just a lot of work still left to do.

They talk for a bit, not really a full on conversation, just Ford wondering about Stan's well-being, about what he's remembered so far and Stan answering. The rest of the time they just fall into slightly awkward silence. Overtime Ford sees that Stan's taken notice of his hands, watching them as Ford gestures with a somewhat confused expression.

Ford realizes almost immediately that it has to be because of his fingers. And he knows he should have expected it, after all, Stan has only forgotten every piece of information related to himself, his general knowledge is intact, so of course he knows what amount of fingers is normal and what is not. But it still hurts, rubs salt into the fresh and open wound. Because Stanley has never once looked at his hands that way, the way everyone else has at some point —like they're noticing something odd and wrong, something that shouldn't be there, trying to figure out whether they're having double vision or seeing things. For Stan his hands have always been the most normal thing in the world, after all, he's never not had a six-fingered twin brother. Well, he has now. And it hurts because that's just an extra reminder that the person sitting next to Ford is not his brother, at least not fully. Maybe will never be him. Hopefully not.

So they sit there. Stan doesn't speak and Ford doesn't either, trying to hold himself together, preparing himself for when Stan's inevitably going to point out his hands. Even though he's had a lifetime of responding to questions about them, even the most uncomfortable ones, he never thought his brother could be the one asking them. This is different and worse than it's ever been. He has to just endure it, it's all his fault after all.

Then Stan finally speaks again. But instead of judgement, confusion, disgust, shock, fear or all the other responses Ford has mentally prepared himself for it's

"Oh, you have six fingers, right? That's pretty cool".

Said calmly, with a warm smile. Like it is the most normal thing in the world. So much like back in the childhood that only one of them remembers.

And that almost moves Ford to tears. Or maybe it does. Not the first time he's cried over this and not the last one either, he feels. But these right now are happy tears. And Ford feels that maybe it will all be alright after all

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Could you write about being fingered by Ford? The idea is just rather titillating.

A/n: 10/10! Love this idea! I apologize if this sucks.

Ford had the date all planed out.

Cook you your favorite meal✓

Go for a nice little hike✓

Then finish the night off watching a meteor shower and some star gazing.

He honestly had no clue how it lead to this, you a whimpering mess on his lap, Ford's calloused hands caressed your thighs with reverence, his touch igniting delicious sparks of pleasure within you. He gazed upon you with unbridled desire, hungry to bring you the delightful fulfillment you craved.

Lowering his head, Ford nuzzled the sensitive skin of you neck, his stubble grazing your delicate flesh. A low, rumbling growl escaped his lips as he felt her part her legs further, silently begging him to take you.

"Patience, darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. Slowly, tantalizingly, his calloused fingertips trailed up your inner thighs, inching ever closer to your most intimate place. He relished the way your breath hitched, the way your body instinctively arched toward his touch.

Finally, he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of your skirt, caressing the silky heat he found there. Your muscles clenched around him as he stroked your slick folds, sending jolts of ecstasy racing through you. Ford swallowed your soft moans with a searing kiss, determined to savor every delicious sound you made.

"That's it, love'," he growled against your lips. "Let me hear how good I make you feel..."

Ford's calloused digits worked skilled magic, coaxing breathless whimpers from your lips as you rode his fingers,a gasp leaving you as the man slipped another finger in your warmth, his sixth finger slowly rubbing your clit. He drank in the sight of your flushed, rapturous expression, his own pulse thundering with unbridled desire.

Lowering his head, Ford nuzzled the delicate curve of your neck, his stubbly jaw grazing her soft skin, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. A rumbling growl of approval vibrated in his chest as he felt you clench needily around his plunging fingers.

"That's it, love'," he rasped, voice thick with lust. "Let it all out for me." His thumb brushed your swollen pearl in a maddening rhythm, coaxing ever more delicious sounds from your trembling lips.

Ford's free hand slid up to caress your cheek, guiding your face back to his. He captured your mouth in a searing, possessive kiss, swallowing your cries of bliss. He wanted to savor every last shudder, every spasm of pleasure that wracked your body.

Letting out a whine against his lips, your fingers clutched his tie as you rode his fingers. A shudder running down your spine as you felt your impending orgasm.Ford groaned in pure satisfaction as your slick walls clenched rhythmically around his plunging fingers. He swallowed your cries of bliss with a searing kiss, determined to prolong your ecstasy for as long as possible. His calloused palm cupped your cheek tenderly, his thumb caressing the soft, flushed skin.

The sight of your rapturous expression, the feeling of you trembling in his arms, ignited a primal hunger within him. He wanted nothing more than to worship every inch of your supple body, to explore your most intimate places until you were utterly spent.

Slowing the pace of his ministrations, Ford peppered your neck with reverent kisses, murmuring words of praise and adoration against your skin. His touch was equal parts soothing and sensual, coaxing the last tremors of your from your quivering form as your orgasm hit you.

" You're so goddamn perfect..."

Ford tenderly gathered you into his embrace, his calloused fingers caressing your flushed, quivering form. A satisfied rumble rose from his chest as he felt the last tremors of your climax shudder through you.

Pressing featherlight kisses along your temple, he murmured words of praise and adoration, reveling in the way you melted against him. Ford knew he would never tire of seeing you like this - utterly spent and happy in his arms.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand, gently trailing his fingertips along your sensitive flesh. He chuckled lowly as you shivered at his touch, his heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of pride and possession.

Cradling you close, Ford peppered your face with tender kisses, his rough stubble grazing your soft skin as you let out a small but tired giggle.

"You were absolutely perfect, darlin'." His fingers caressed your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Ford's eyes gleamed with unbridled adoration, his heart brimming with the knowledge that he had pleased her so.

You were his, and he'd make damn sure you never forgot it.

[homosexualgirlandbags]

Anyways cross fandom time because the epic brainrot is coming to me.

Brainwashed! Soap meeting Ghost again after his supposed death.

Just imagine Ghost standing there opposite Soap, his mohawk was more grown out, his hair tied up in a bun. The stubble on his face had turned into a full grown beard, turning him almost unrecognisable.

But it was still Soap, still the person he had fallen in love with years prior.

The familiar spark of mischievous was still behind those blue eyes, the wrinkles around Johnny's eyes were still there, more prominent now. A reminder of the years lost between them. His frame seemed taller now, almost as tall as him. And yet all Ghost could think about was how much he wanted to kiss him.

Simon's eyes couldn't help but soften a little, his hands instinctively lowering his gun. He wants to reach out, to run his hands over Johnny's face, to call out his name and see the light in his world come back once more.

"Johnny? You good?"

Oh god, Simon hated how vulnerable he sounded, how meek his voice sounded as he called out, akin to a child calling out to the darkness for comfort.

And yet, for all it's worth, Simon could have sworn he saw a little light of familiarity flare up Johnny's eyes. The eyes he used to stare during moonlit nights flickering over his mask, attempting to find recognition to cling to.

Ghost couldn't really care about the consequences of his actions at this moment, and certainly not that fact that he was sacrificing his identity for the almost fruitless attempt of his Johnny coming back to him.

And there Simon stood bare, devoid of the identity he hides behind. He could feel the dirt and dust stuck on his face, his hair tousled from sweat. He could feel the wind around him, his eyes crinkling as he looked into Johnny opposite him.

"Johnny?"

His voice sounded as though he was gonna cry now, and yet he couldn't have cared about the vulnerability of his actions when Johnny's eyes softened a little more, bloodied lips opened apart, as though he was trying to whisper out a name long buried in his memories.

Simon ignored the static in his earpiece, hardly caring for the mission at large now. It was completed either way, and Price could go to hell for all he cared about at this moment. His gun dropped onto the ground next to him, hitting the concrete floor as he took a step forward.

"L.t?"

The gruff voice across from him called out, voice cracked from years of misuse. Simon could see Johnny staring at him, eyes tired and desperate. Johnny's fingers loosened on the trigger, his gun hanging loosely from his hands as he stared back into the freckled face of Simon.

It wasn't long before Simon was running towards him, embracing Johnny into his arms. He could feel the tears staining his cheeks as he held Johnny close to him. Simon could hear shaky breaths in his ears, though he couldn't tell whose it was, nor did he care. Johnny's hands were on him in the next moment, gripping at Simon's shoulders.

"Si?"

Johnny's words sounded like reassurance to him, familiarity and surprise in his tone as he held Simon against him.

"Yes?"

Simon's voice came out hoarse from crying, shakily pulling away to stare into the eyes of someone he once loved. Up close, Johnny's face looked different now, more ragged, harsher around the edge. In the years he was gone, his love's face had been scarred, and his nose possibly broken in many times if the way it was crooked was anything to go by.

But it was his Johnny, the same Johnny he had fallen in love with so many years prior. Still the same Johnny that adored him, still the Johnny he loved.

Relieve flooded his heart as Johnny's eyes filled in tears, staring up into the man he had dreams of, visions of a life that was robbed from him years ago.

Later, when Johnny sat in the medical office, being tested on over and over again to ensure his and the teams safety, Simon couldn't help the feeling of overwhelming comfort rising in his throat as he watches Johnny. His eyes watching every familiar movement of the Scot, how Johnny's accent was gradually coming back the more he spoke, how brash his words were becoming.

Finally, he thinks, his love was home.