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lieblinqs · 1 year

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retrouvaille. (n.) the joy of being reunited with someone again after a long time apart.

simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!reader

after getting heavily injured on a mission, simon gets a warm welcome from his beloved - but he needs them to promise him one thing.

//wounds, basic angst, very fluffy at the end! f!reader but only bcs “lass” is used once

word count: 2,134

You never really notice how small your apartment feels when there's no one but you - how comforting it is to finally feel his presence back after weeks and months of an empty house - you couldn't even call it a home until then. Because your home was standing tall in your doorframe, hunched just the slightest bit, dressed in gear and was reaching for your body. "I can't make it if you don't promise me to be okay."

"I don't want to be okay without you."

You've never been so on point with keeping track of time until you've had to wait for Simon to come back from deployment. When the final day arrives, you haven't slept for not a minute. You couldn't imagine not being there for him when he finally arrives — so when you hear the familiar heavy steps and keys rustling from behind your apartment door, your heart completely stops for a second. You've never been up this fast, making your way to your small entryway in a heartbeat - probably hitting your foot against a few tables of yours while running too, making sure everything that you've planned is intact for the moment. But that plan gets thrown off immediately by pure impulse and instinct.

He reached out for your body and you jumped in, like a natural body reaction; your bodies fitting together like a puzzle meant to be, the familiar musky scent of him that you swear you hate, (but, if we're being honest, you truly missed and love) all of it taking over your senses. He held you so tight to himself as if you'd disappear if he let go – like a man starved of human contact.

During all this time of knowing Simon, you've already figured that his actions speak more than words – even with you, he responds in short answers. He's more of a listener, anyways. So that hold told more than any of your words could ever explain, not even those you scripted and waited to tell him. Without words, you both exchanged everything you needed to say. "...Simon." you finally managed to murmur against his vest, yet all you could make out was his name; hands gripping onto whatever piece of cloth you could find on him.

"In the flesh." hearing his voice again is like a nostalgic hit in the stomach. Like listening to an old song you used to cry to before. "Missed me?" His exhausted smug face was wiped off by your lips crashing against each other; It was his voice that took you out of the shocked state and made you pull his Balaclava off completely – kissing him like it was truly the last time you could. Simon laid his one hand into your hair and pulled you closer to him, the other holding at your waist. Both your eyes were screwed shut, just enjoying the euphoric relief of tension

You didn't even know how long you two have been stuck like this, but you could stay like that forever. That is if you weren't mortals, who need air to breathe.

"How many weeks has it been..fuckin’ hell, months even. –"

"67 days."

"...You counted it?"

You decide burying your head deeper into his chest was enough of an answer. You did count it – and his heartstrings were pulled as guilt flows through them. He didn't deserve to come back to this. Ghost didn't deserve to be loved like this, he believes.

Leave wasn't always comforting like this for Simon.

Well, comforting, sure. Depends on who views it. He found comfort — but in the bottom of a bottle instead of your embrace. His apartment was empty; and not just empty in the physical sense. It was empty of life, just dim light coming from the halfway opened windows, unopened mail and boxes scattered around, only indicators that there even was someone living here.

But now he, out of all people, had the priceless privilege of coming back to you. To a warm home with someone who's waiting for him, who's waiting for Ghost to leave and Simon to come back.

"Every single day that you were gone." You never really noticed how small your apartment feels when there's no one but you - how comforting it is to finally feel his presence back after weeks and months of an empty house - you couldn't even call it a home until then.

Because your home was standing tall in your doorframe, hunched just the slightest bit, dressed in gear and was reaching for your body.

"Don't just stay at the door like some jehovah's witness, Please." You give an awkward snort and make your way to close the door behind him. "...How was it?"

"Harsh."

You knew better than to ask about details of his job. You knew where he was, what he was doing, and (about) when he comes back. It was enough for him, because if there's one thing he never wants to happen it's to bring you into the operations. You didn't need to know more.

You were curious, sure, and he would tell you about the Taskforce once or twice - both of you laughing at some dumb thing that happened to a rookie or that one time he absolutely obliterated Soap in training — for the record, he is very proud of that. (Please tell him you are too.) He'd tell you about the impressive shots he did, and some ego-boosting updates on his strength that you're sick of hearing, but that's about it. You were okay with that to some extent, too.

While helping out Simon get out of his uniform and lay off his gear aside, you had to glance back at it twice before realizing what you saw on the side of his stomach.

"Jesus fucking-... You told me you'd be more careful this time!" You hiss out at the sight of his wounds painted with dark, dried blood, practically left unattended except for the basic stitches and what looks like some worn-out bandages. "Not quite easy when you've got targets in yer back love." simply huffing at his remark, you shake your head with annoyance at his lack of care.

Without a word or further complaint, you drag him into your bedroom and sat down with him on the shared queen-sized bed.

Taking a closer look on what you were being left with, you began by cleaning off his scarred skin;

" Fuckin' hell—"

"...Might sting?" A quiet chuckle, that you just couldn't hold in, escapes your lips as well as a soft smile that creeps upon them.

"But whose fault is that now.." The look in those deep, brown eyes that you fell in love with a long time ago, now signal you that familiar sign to what this is going to lead into. Your own face scrunches at the thought of it; so, so close to breaking down at the already overwhelming situation. "Can't always come out without a scratch." "That is not a scratch." "I'm jus' saying. You know what I do and what comes with it. Right? Listen."

"Simon." The first time, it's a warning to him - to remind you avoid this conversation like the plague for a reason.

"You'll live a long time without me —"

"Don't." The second, it's a plea. A begging whine brought in a shaky voice and accompanied by eyes swollen with tears, interrupting what other painful daggers of truth he was about to give you - he always did this in the worst moments.

It's so easy to pretend that it couldn't happen.

"I need to know you'll be fine on your own without me." And there it was. His voice was grating and raised, — if you didn't know him you'd think he was mad. But he isn't. He's frustrated and this is the only way he can deal with it - He's frustrated because It's killing him to talk about it too, tearing at his heartstrings, knowing that he might not come back to you after one goodbye. That after one unlucky mission, one unlucky shot, one unlucky ‘scratch’... he won't come back to your embrace where war and blood find no home. His dark eyes that indicate death and a cold-hearted killer on the battlefield are now yearning for support and understatement in yours. You could've sworn you even saw them beginning to look glossy. His voice now begins to hitch and breaks itself - the grip he had on you now trembling and weakening, eyebrows furrowing; a vulnerable sight that Simon swore to never let anyone see again. Yet here he is, kneeling in front of his love on their shared bed, begging for a single promise. "I wanted that to be the first thing we do when i come back, in case.." He drifts off as he gives you a stern look into your eyes, his hands gripping your arms in a tight hold. "In case there won't be another chance."

"I can't make it if you don't promise me to be okay." "I don't want to be okay without you."

He doesn't know what to say; he wishes he never had to even hear that. But this is what comes with loving Simon.

"And you won't have to. But if something happens —" A quiet, cried-out whisper interrupts him once again. "Don't say that." In return, he can't bring himself to respond with anything else other than an exaggerated exhale and a head tilted to look down. "...If something happens, you promise to live out your life, alright? None of that 'mournin’ for me' crap, yeah?" Simon wasn't one to comfort others, even though he tried his best for you. But god, he does know how to make you cry.

"Tell me you'll stay strong for me." "I don't take orders" a weak smile creeps onto your face as you jokingly scoff, but still linked with that sad expression.

"..."

When silence falls between the both of you and no sign of that hazy and mean playfulness in the dark orbs of his that usually lingers, letting you know he means it when he tells you to confirm. Who are you to disobey the L.T.’s orders?

"I'll try." After a few moments run by, you manage to say something in return with a shaky voice – basically forcing yourself to accept that pill that's so hard to swallow.

"I'll try to Simon. But I don't know how long I can try for." Averting your gaze from his, you finish touching up his stitches and lay off the med kit into some random bedside table drawer.

"I want to know that you're always somewhere out there, that that smile of yours' still goes around." he took your jaw into his hands and his dreary eyes were taking you in, your head immediately melting into the familiar hold of his as the calloused thumbs begin to wipe your tears off your pretty face.

"Come on lass, traveled back to you n' all that, and ya won't even give me a smile? Get me a refund." Losing to fight back a smile, you hit your one hand against his chest lightly and hide your smiling face into the crook of his neck - a heavy weight lifted off your shoulders, and where there were sobs, there are now those warm giggles of yours that Simon dreams of when he's gone.

"I'm tired."

"What's stopping ya?"

"Your need to shower."

"Oi, piss off." He grunts a chuckle under his breath as he throws you over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom; placing a kiss onto the hips that he was carrying. "Barely home for an hour and ya already have an attitude. Gonna have to get rid of that."

"Bet you do."

The water droplets grazing both your nude bodies as he leans his head atop of yours, your hands working their way to his face and gently rubbing it's paint off. — An vulnerably intimate and loving scenario between you two. You have to admit, it took an ungodly amount of time to build that amount of trust between you. But you'd wait for him over, and over, and over again if it meant to be together like this. When you two finally get out, he insists of carrying you into your bed.

His embrace feels so comforting, his bicep curled around you, pulling you into his chest – his heartbeat and the dimmed lights lulling you to sleep. It's a perfect way to warm ones heart after one half of it was gone for so long.

"I've missed this Simon."

"It's what I fight for, love." It's so easy to pretend that it can be always like this.

tags: @lovsavangeline2

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list as well ^.^ pls like reblog or comment!! i love seeing ur interactions, ++ my requests are open for anything a/n : also should i keep the small font or write in a normal one??

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #i'll promise i'll post that series fic soonpls #ficlet #mj's lexicon #but first ill post a könig smut ficlet next hehe

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aeoncss · 1 year

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crave | professor!john price x f!reader

a/n: hey! first time posting my writing abt price on this account so i’m a teensy bit nervous, but i hope y’all enjoy this small drabble regardless.

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY), ‘forbidden’ relationship, female reader, fingering, not proof read lol

based off of this song

it was so easy falling into the space of john’s arms without ever thinking about the consequences.

the smell of his aftershave and the lingering scent of his woodsy cologne blocked all your senses of thinking clearly – inhabiting any coherent thought that you had about him, and about the relationship the two of you shared.

you two fell into a rhythm so easily – starting with longing stares from across his classroom, to idle touches whenever you stay a few minutes after his lecture to ask a simple, easily answered question.

you didn’t care. all you wanted was john’s attention, and without you ever knowing, he wanted yours as well. craved it every second when he would see your innocent smile from your seat.

but the two of you know better. know that it’s a horrible craving that either of you can’t crush, can’t bring yourself to break away from because the addiction is too much.

too pleasing.

so the thoughts of morality and future endeavors escape your head when everything about him fills your senses, leaving you wreck-less. it’s pathetic, almost; the way your brain can’t seem to gather it’s circulation when john whispers such filthy murmurs into your ear, two fingers curling slowly inside your slick walls. he pumps them to the tune of your heartbeat - his breath fogging against the curve of your neck as you flutter around him, completely surrendering yourself to him.

“price..” his last name slips so easily from between your lips, and the older male sitting below you can only reply in a seductive hum.

“yes, love?” john’s voice grows rough, more timber when the taste of lust coats his tongue.

it truly drives you mad.

“don’t—“ your words cut short when his middle finger gently presses against a spot he’s abused several times before, leaving your head spinning, lips parting in a desperate gasp. “don’t s-stop, please.”

your professor smirks against the your sweat-sheen skin, his warm tongue barely slipping past his swollen lips to deliver an open mouthed kiss to your bare collarbone. your body shudders on top of him, john’s eyes adorning the sight of you slowly coming undone, and he hasn’t even started with you yet.

this addiction - he’ll never bring himself to step away from it. not when your breathy moans are so pretty. not when the sound of you whimpering out his name is forever engraved into him.

he’s a lost cause, all thanks to you.

it’s a restless cycle that leaves you feeling breathless without him next to you - without feeling his embrace, no matter if it’s only raged by pheromones and the promise of his seed. you’ll keep finding yourself back to the place you call home, where the name ‘john price’ is stamped right above it.

consequences? damn them to hell.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #mw2 #mw2 2022 #mw2 price #captain price smut #cod mw19 #call of duty mw19 #mw19 #mw2 smut #call of duty mw2 #mw2 captain price

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interviewwithademon · 1 year

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Loss, and Everything that Comes with: A Short Vignette

TMC squad, how're we doing tonight

I am doing Not Well and neither is Adam so I wrote a lil poem in the second person, please enjoy

Loss follows you everywhere you go.

Your life is a series of dances, stumbling around the unavoidable chasm in your heart that tells you everyone you love will leave, a gaping maw of fear that only grows with each passing day.

You’re a child when it begins- when long arms gather you to a cold, unmoving chest in the dead of night, Mama’s scream echoing off tile as you’re whisked away from your entire world.

You come back wrong, different; the world feels muted where it once was vibrant, and Mama is no longer there to coax the warmth from the hearth so the house grows frost. Dad rarely talks on the days he bothers to be home; you learn quickly how to tie your own shoes and sign your own report cards, and then one day he vanishes too.

You’re sixteen years old and an orphan, abandoned to an overloaded system that struggles to stay afloat so when you slip away at midnight there is no one left to chase after you, no one to care what happens to the sad boy with the big blue eyes. You stumble back home, managing to find your way up stairs that threaten to cave in and curl up in the spot that Mama’s bed once rested.

You make friends classmates who look at you with the same concern that the foster families once did, eyes a mix of worry and pity that makes your stomach churn uncomfortably so you drift away from them too. It’s for their own good, you tell yourself as the shadows of everyone you’ve driven off merge into one ominously looming figure in your mind. I’m cursed.

Maybe it’s true: one sticks around, determined to make you smile, forever ready with a joke and a kind gaze that doesn’t pity you but sees you instead; you tell him about your club and he matches your passion with a zest of his own, and when he pulls out a camcorder to document your adventures you can’t help but give him the grin he works ceaselessly to achieve.

You feel like a moth to flame; like his easy camaraderie has chipped away at the ice block surrounding your core, hope returning like pins and needles to a sleeping limb. For once, you think of a brighter future: one of maturity, of taking the job at the local videography store and falling into rhythm that slowly echoes your own heartbeat.

You’re wrong, of course, you always are; permanence and you mix like oil and water, your heavy weight of guilt dragging you into the murky depths as your friend looks down in disappointment. He pleads with his eyes for you to swim but you never learned how so instead you sink, plummeting deeper and deeper until the waves feel foreign yet familiar, a flickering screen replaying memories you wished had remained buried.

As quickly as he’d come, he’s gone once more. Where you’d once had a shield of frost to protect your delicate heart there instead exists only the wound, exposed and raw to all the guilt that hits you (it’s not the same, you refuse to let yourself feel victimized; how much emotional pain could equate to the wreckage of His car, His life, Your Friend-). You sink to your knees in the kitchen, the same coating of rime that’s mirrored in the shell you once called a heart.

You’re alone once more, or maybe you always were; the reflection in the tile isn’t one you recognize anymore, skin sagging in a horrifically inhumane way and even you have left you behind; your identity has slipped away like the hoodie that lays discarded on the floor, across from an obituary for a short boy with warm eyes that forever haunt you when you close your own.

It sits in its own misery, staring at the picture of its dead best friend for an indeterminable amount of time; there’s no one left to chase after it anymore, after all, and it’s lost inside the slowly spiraling mind of a monster.

#I have a lot of thoughts if you can't tell #Adam is so scrunkly please let him have One Good Day(TM)#the mandela catalogue #tmc adam #Adam murray #tmc alternate #I'm going to fight Jude Murray myself in an Arby's parking lot #writing #one shot #poem? idk

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ravensliterature · 1 year

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Embracing Dreams

A/N: Another request done!

pairing: Erwin Smith x Reader

warnings: Angst

w/c: 703

Prompt: You and Erwin discuss the future

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Erwin and Y/N lay side by side in their cozy bed in Erwin’s quarters, their bodies entwined, the softness of the sheets embracing them as they embarked on an intimate conversation about their future. Moonlight spilled through the curtains, casting a gentle glow upon their faces, as if nature itself acknowledged the sacredness of their dreams.

"What do you envision for our lives?" Erwin's voice carried a mix of hope and vulnerability, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he dared to envision a world beyond their present.

Y/N's fingers danced along Erwin's chest, their touch a soothing rhythm against his skin. "I see us," they began, their voice brimming with conviction, "building a home that resonates with warmth and love. A place where we can nurture not only our love but also our dreams. We'll have a garden, lush with vibrant flowers and towering trees. The scent of jasmine and roses will dance through the air, and we'll revel in the joy of tending to nature's canvas… Maybe even have a couple of children."

Erwin's eyes shimmered, the weight of his impending fate bearing down on his heart. He turned his gaze to Y/N, his emotions raw and unfiltered. "But what if I cannot witness our dreams materialize? What if my time on this earth is limited, and I must depart before our visions become reality?"

Y/N's touch turned tender, their fingertips lingering on Erwin's cheek as they brushed away the trails of tears. "Oh, Erwin," they whispered, their voice laden with love and understanding. "We cannot foresee the twists and turns of fate, but what we have in this moment is a gift. Every second we share together is a testament to our love. And even if our time is cut short, we will embrace the beauty of the journey we embarked on, cherishing every memory and savoring every heartbeat."

Erwin's breath hitched, his emotions threatening to consume him entirely. He held Y/N closer, as if seeking solace in the warmth of their embrace. "Promise me," he implored, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and longing. "Promise me that when… if I am gone, you will carry the flame of happiness within your heart. Promise me you will continue to pursue our dreams, creating a future filled with laughter and love."

Y/N's voice quivered, their own tears mingling with Erwin's. But within the tremor, their determination remained unyielding. "I promise, Erwin," they vowed, their words an unbreakable oath. "I promise to honor your memory and nourish our dreams. I will build a life that embraces the light, knowing that it is what you would want for me. Your love will guide me through the darkest nights, and your spirit will forever be woven into the tapestry of our dreams."

Erwin's grip tightened, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on Y/N's skin. He drew in a shaky breath, his voice a fragile melody laced with acceptance and yearning. "Thank you, Y/N. Knowing that you will find happiness in the wake of my absence eases the weight upon my heart. I love you more than words can ever convey."

Y/N pressed their lips against Erwin's forehead, their love transcending the physical realm and enveloping their very souls. "I love you too, Erwin," they murmured, their voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. "And as long as we hold each other in our hearts, our dreams will never fade away. Together, we will forge a future that blossoms with the essence of our love, a testament to the life we built together."

In that ethereal moment, time itself ceased to exist. Erwin and Y/N clung to each other, their love an unyielding force that defied the limitations of mortality. They understood that life was an unpredictable tapestry, and the future held no guarantees. Yet, their bond remained unbreakable, and within the sanctuary of their shared dreams, they found solace and the strength to face whatever lay ahead. With each passing moment, they painted the canvas of their lives with the brushstrokes of love, resilience, and an unwavering determination to manifest the dreams they held dear. No matter how short it may be.

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Submit a request here

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin erwin #erwin #erwin smith #snk erwin #erwin x reader #erwin x you #erwin x y/n #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith x you

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lire-casander · 6 months

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E, J, U?

E: What character do you identify with most? Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

It depends on the fandom, and it depends on the day. Although I'd never felt so pulled towards a character as I did with Alex Manes (RNM), it's true that I see myself a lot in Carlos Reyes (911LS). Lately I've been watching a lot of a Spanish show called 4 Estrellas and I see myself in at least two characters: Luz and Javier.

Funny thing is that, although I see myself a lot in Carlos, the fic that best represents me is actually a fic about TK's past and his mental state: from wedding bells to private hells (to fresh new starts and wish you wells)

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

You know, I discovered what tropes were very late in fandom. I think my favorite one is enemies to lovers, idiots in love, fake dating and being the last ones to find out they're in love.

I'm pretty sure I've written them in one way or the other a lot of times, but right now only a handful come to mind!

recipe for disaster (what’s in your heart) - RNM, Princess Diaries AU, idiots in love

forever in a second too short (home is a heartbeat) - 911LS, Marry Me AU, fake dating

Is there another example for my fave tropes? Probably. Do I remember writing it? Probably not...

U: Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet?

Right now, Gregory/Jeanine from Abbott Elementary and Christa/Neal from Code Black. And that's because, although I haven't given up on writing, I'm taking things slow.

ask me any of these fanfic writer's asks!

#thanks for playing!#you asked #you ask and lire answers #chamblerstara #fanfic writer's asks

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showfall-costumes-department · 1 year

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[Video transcript received.]

[The audio picks up on singing from a distance. The video shows the floor of the woods.]

?: “And I’d give up forever to touch you…”

[Jenny gets closer to the voice, the singing becoming clearer. She’s about 10 feet away.]

?: “‘Cuz I know that you feel me somehow…”

J: “… Much nicer song choice tonight…”

?: “You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be…”

[Jenny gets even closer, about 3 feet behind them as they walk at a strange rhythm, as if in a trance.]

?: “… And I don’t want to go home right now…”

J: “… Daffodil…?”

?: “And all— Aah!!”

[The worker yelps in fear at Jenny’s voice, whipping around to look at her, their arms up over their face for defense. The silence that follows lasts 10 seconds.]

?: “… Hello…?”

J: “… Daffodil… You’re… You’re real…”

?: “… I… Yeah…”

[It’s silent for 5 seconds more as Jenny takes in the worker’s appearance. Brown hair, cut short sloppily, with a too-big red flannel and loosely fitting blue jeans. A portion of their previously worn mask covers their left eye. Their face is covered in scars, most notably on their left cheek. A long line of stitching crawls down their face, and a large chunk of skin near their mouth looks much newer than the rest. The other more noticeable scar is over their right eye. It seems like it’s been long healed over. There’s a thick, dark red scar around their neck.]

J: “… You’re real!”

[The audio is spiked by a sudden movement of the device. The microphone rubs against fabric as Jenny hugs the worker forcefully, her body shaking.]

?: “… I am real…”

J: “God, you’re alive, I… How? No, nevermind, doesn’t matter, we need to get you to Edgar and the rest of them, I-I— They have to see this!”

[Jenny grabs their pale hand and pulls for them to follow…]

[But they don’t budge, and after a couple tugs, Jenny looks back at them with concern.]

J: “… Daff?”

[The worker is quiet as they look at Jenny with a strange expression. They gently pull their hand away from hers. Their right hand.]

J: “… Daff, are you okay…? I didn’t scare you that bad, right…? … Haha…”

[Jenny’s laugh holds fear as the worker examines their right hand, then their right arm. They blink slowly, their eyes holding an odd but specific feeling to them. They look at Jenny, before asking a question very quietly.]

?: “… Do… you… remember…?”

J: “… Remember what, sweetheart…? You’re scaring me…”

[The worker looks down at their right hand again, then their left. They place a hand on their chest, as if feeling for their heartbeat.]

J: “… Daff… What’s wrong…?”

[The worker takes a shaky breath, then shakes their head a little, attempting to not agitate the scar on their neck.]

?: “I… It’s nothing, nevermind…”

J: “Daff, you’re a terrible liar, what’s wrong…?”

?: “… I don’t want to talk about it… Nevermind…”

J: “Are you sure-?”

?: “Yes. … Very sure…”

[Jenny closes her mouth quickly as the worker speaks over her question.]

J: “… Alright… If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to talk to me…”

[Jenny pauses, then remembers something and reaches into her pocket.]

J: “I um… I have your phone. Fully charged. I thought you might want it back… I didn’t look at anything, I just didn’t want Daniel to have it.”

?: “… ‘Daniel’…?”

[Jenny’s expression changes to one of regret and shock, and her eyes widen with fear.]

J: “… Anyway! Um, here’s your phone!”

[Jenny passes a phone over to the worker.]

?: “… Thank you…”

[Jenny rocks back and forth on her heels, her anxiety apparent.]

J: “… Um… Were you… wanting to go to Edgar’s apartment…?”

?: “… You finally made it there?”

[Jenny looks down, avoiding eye contact.]

J: “… Yes… I made it over there…”

?: “… How is he?”

[Jenny pauses for a moment, thinking.]

J: “He’s… recovering. Slowly but surely, I believe he’s recovering…”

?: “… Good to hear…”

[The worker starts walking, and Jenny speeds to catch up with them.]

J: “Where are you going?”

?: “… I don’t know.”

J: “Pff, haha… I’ll lead you there…”

[Jenny gently takes the worker’s hand, and she starts leading them through the woods.]

?: “… Thank you…”

[End transcript.]

#encoreverse blog #showfall ask blog #jenny from showfall #the showfall worker

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 1 year

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Second Best (short story) (part 2)

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/719598614315499520/new-life-in-death-short-story-part-1?source=share

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Hootpetal hadn’t expected her mate’s and Myrtlewing’s home to be so….eerie, for lack of a better term. They had to wade through neck-high red mud before crossing the sharpest rocks she had ever felt graze her pads. She was relieved when the ground returned to prickly grass, until the undergrowth grew thicker and thicker until Hootpetal was sure that she would suffocate.

Then the wilted brown ferns and bushes lightened and Myrtlewing led the way into an open field. Hootpetal followed for a few steps. A sharp pain stabbed her already sore paw, and she yowled, raising it to see a sharp thorn embedded in her toe.

“Watch your step,” Myrtlewing warned. “Thistles grow here.”

Hootpetal pulled it out and looked around, only now noticing the darker markings among the blades of grass. “These are thistles?” Weren’t thistles purple?

“Guess the colour gets sapped here,” Myrtlewing shrugged. “There’s our home.” He nodded ahead to a large, impressive tangle of briar and bramble made up of the longest thorns Hootpetal had ever seen in her entire life, even as an exploring rogue.

“This is your home?” She couldn’t help but be disbelieving. Why would Alderstar or Myrtlewing want to live here?

Why would they want to kill our Clanmates? A voice at the back of her head asked her.

Why would you want to kill?

Maybe they didn’t like it here. Maybe they hate it and are punishing themselves. Claws pulled on the strings of her heart.

“Wait here,” Myrtlewing instructed. “I’ll go get him.”

Hootpetal didn’t want to argue. Her path had been long, but it had been mostly filled with taken in the varying scenes around her, nevermind the fact that she had just died. Now it truly caught up to her that she was about to see her long-lost love, her perfect star. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the golden pelt from between the branches.

—-

Alderstar was not expecting this. He absolutely was not expecting this. But the reality was suddenly confronting him, and he had no idea how to react. He knew he couldn’t hide away in the thorns forever, much as the idea felt favourable, so he waited for a few, long heartbeats to get his head in order before padding out into the open.

When he saw her, he couldn’t breathe, like this was all a dream and in reality he was being held in a river, unable to find air and rhythmic, tormenting waves pounding at his ears.

Hootpetal’s eyes were on his, as wide as he expected his own were. It took him long, too long, to realize that they were much too far apart and that he should probably move closer. Hootpetal seemed to come to the same realization, for she stepped forward at the same time he did. He decided to allow her to come forward if she wanted to, and stepped back. Hootpetal had the same idea once more, stepping back too.

They chuckled tensely, and remained still for a moment longer. Then neither could take it any longer and lunged toward the other. They slammed into each other hard, spinning and collapsing to the ground, laughing even as the wind had been knocked out of them.

“I’ve found you!” Hootpetal was exclaiming. At least Alderstar thought that that is what she said–it was hard to tell with every word being drowned in licks she gave over his head. “I’ve finally found you! It’s been too long!”

“Far too long!” Alderstar agreed. But the bliss gave way to distress. For one, because Hootpetal would have to suffer in the Dark Forest as well–he was sure to hear that story another time. For another, he would have to explain to her that he had found a new mate. He would have to watch the happiness in her eyes shatter into a million desolate pieces. He couldn’t let her hope linger for too long. He had to tell her. Now. Just…softly.

“I love you,” Hootpetal sighed contently, pressing into Alderstar’s chest fur.

“I love you too,” Alderstar told her. It was true. He did. But….

Hootpetal didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong, simply happy to be with him again. How long had she hoped for this day? How long had she waited for it? Now it was here, and she had to learn that it was all in vain because while she held onto her love, he had moved on.

Did it count as moving on if he still loved her deeply? As much as he loved Myrtlewing?

There was no point in wondering. He had to choose one, and he made his choice. The idea of choosing Hootpetal over Myrtlewing came into his head, and he pushed it away quickly. Okay, he loved Hootpetal with every fiber of his being, but maybe not as much as he loved Myrtlewing. Still….to tell her of his choice, that she was second-best….

“There is something I have to tell you,” he spoke grimly.

Hootpetal pulled back. “What?”

She was looking at him, but Alderstar didn’t meet her eyes. He was looking ahead, studying the shadows playing on the ferns. “I….If I had known you would return to me, I don’t know if things would have been the same, but….I….I found someone.”

Hootpetal visibly froze. Alderstar spared a glance at her to check that she hadn’t turned to stone. “You…someone else? Someone you….That you love?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Someone that you love like you do–did me?” She didn’t seem angry, nor upset–simply unable to do anything but process.

“I love him so much,” he admitted. “And I love you too. That’s why it’s so hard to tell you, but I couldn’t let you go on living a lie.”

“Him?” Hootpetal repeated dumbly. “So you like toms? Does that mean that you never….loved me?”

“Of course I did!” Alderstar stared at her, then wanted to bite himself when he saw the sharp pain reflected in her eyes. “I like toms and she-cats, and this tom….I really like him. A lot. And I like you too! A lot!” Alderstar’s voice rose in frustration. “But I never would have expected you would do something to end up here! I never thought that I would have to make a choice, and leave you heartbroken!”

Hootpetal didn’t say anything for a very, very long time. Alderstar’s words echoed around the clearing, returning and clanging between his ears like thunder. He had just told Hootpetal that she came second to his heart.

Once Hootpetal’s eyelids finally tired, they drooped. Her ears fell lower. Every muscle appeared suddenly weak and vulnerable. She stood and began to pad away. “It’s alright,” she stammered when Alderstar reached for her. “I don’t want to cause any more problems. You’re good here and I….I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t have to go!”

“I’ll be okay,” Hootpetal repeated, giving him a wavering smile. “You’re surviving here. I can do the same.” With that, she was gone, and it felt as though she had only been here for a few heartbeats. But he guessed a few heartbeats was more than enough time to shatter somebody’s entire world. Alderstar watched the ferns that had engulfed her, and couldn’t help but wonder how much of everything he had just ruined.

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gellertsbumblebee · 2 years

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Terminal Illness AU Short Fic

short Grindeldore fic for @loyalgrindelwald using prompt 44, Albus will be terminally ill. Warning:Gell commits...Not alive at the end, as he can’t bear to live without Albus, he does this via a potion he made, which is in his vest pocket in a black vial. Albus has been coughing blood for a very long time, he knows something is very wrong, so after he leaves Gell a letter, he gets examined at St. Mungo’s, Gell arrives. He finds the letter and reads it... “My dearest Gell:I have been coughing blood for a very long time, I’m worried this is a deadly disease, so I’m being tested at St. Mungo’s. Come if you want to, I won’t force you to. If it is a terminal disease, please be by my side in my final days and hours of life, I’ve left a ring for you on the desk, since I’m too sick to verbally propose to you, I’ll ask the question here:Gell, will you marry me? My final wish is for us to marry before I inevitably pass away. I’m sorry to leave you in such a way. Forever your man, Albus.” Gell sobs, but nods in response to the marriage proposal in the letter, putting the ring on his wedding finger. “Yes I’ll marry you, bumblebee.” After this Gell rushes to St. Mungo’s, the nurse has him wait in Albus’ room while he is being tested. Numerous tests are run on Albus, blood test, Brain scan, biopsies of his major organs, Albus starts gasping to breathe, so they put him on oxygen immediately, Albus takes deep breaths, his breathing eventually stabilizes. Albus is returned to his room where Gell waits for him. Many hours pass, the tests come back, his lung biopsy reveals a tumor, it was tested, sadly, the doctor tells them that Albus has Stage 4 Lung Cancer and that he only has a few weeks to live, he and Gell elope right away! “I’m sorry, Gell...I have stage 4 lung cancer, this means I only have mere weeks to live, they caught it too late, so chemo and radiation therapy won’t work.” Albus is released into Gell’s loving care, they apparate into Nurmengard, where Gell lays Albus in a hospital bed that he set up, they sent him home with tanks and masks of oxygen in case Albus starts to become breathless. Overnight, Albus becomes breathless, so Gell hooks him up to one of the oxygen tanks. “It’s all set, take deep breaths, bumblebee.” After taking many deep breaths, Albus is able to breathe again, he’s getting weaker every day, Gell remains by his side, he has quit his wizarding revolution due to his husband’s fatal cancer diagnosis. A few weeks pass, Albus stands up to walk, but passes out instantly, his pulse and breathing begin to weaken, Gell immediately attempts to save Albus by giving him CPR. The Qilin he has runs over carrying the AED in its mouth by the handle, it sets the AED beside Gell, who hooks the pads to the machine and uncovers them, this AED is automatic, so it turns on right away, he listens to the prompts, putting the pads on Albus’s chest as shown, the AED analyzes his heart rhythm, Gell’s hands aren’t touching him, he hears it say “Shock Advised,” then it prepares to shock Albus! “Everybody stand clear!” The shock is delivered, the AED tells him “Shock delivered, Continue CPR.” After 5 rounds of CPR and 4 shocks, Albus’ rhythm is Asystolic, he’s gone. “No, I couldn’t save you, my bumblebee...” He looks at the clock, it reads 2:35 AM. “Time of death:2:35 AM.” Gell lays Albus on the bed and lays beside him, cradling his lost bumblebee in his arms one last time, he then pulls out the black vial containing the potion that will kill him, breaking the seal... “I’m sorry Albus, I know you wouldn’t want me to do this, but...I must, I can’t live without you!” Gell downs the potion, then makes Albus look like he’s holding him, Gell closes his eyes and the potion takes effect, ceasing Gell’s breathing and heartbeat, he passes away seconds later, both he and Albus are ghosts now, but Albus’ spirit is giving Gell’s an angry look! “Why would you do this? You know I wanted you to live!” “I know, bumblebee, but I see no point in living if you’re dead, I wouldn’t be able to hug, hold and kiss you anymore. Now that we’re both etheral, we can hold, hug and kiss one another like we did when we were living, did you ever consider that...This was my final wish? For us to die together?” “I had no idea that us dying together was your final wish. I’m sorry for getting mad at you, Gell.” Gell holds Albus in his arms, the same warmth overcomes them, this warmth is what they felt each time they held the other in their arms when they were alive, their spirits kiss and hug, happy to be together forever at last. The end.

#grindeldore short fic #OTP prompt 44 #tw: major character death #tw: cancer

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maps-to-elsewhere · 23 days

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Prose: Edge of Eternity

It is so that humankind has, throughout its history, shown a fascination with the idea of immortality. With the coming of the scientific revolution, those fables were made a reality.

Yet what should have begun an age of prosperity and expansion was quickly shown to be the beginning of the end.

With immortality, the too-human drive for perfection and, the disparities that beset the species tore their world asunder, couched in such a nebulous ideal. What began in their furthest colonies soon towered into a wave which swept inexorably back across the nighted expanse, cresting as it did to reach their most ancient home.

There is little left of it, that venerable cradle, its once verdant surface rendered now a pocked waste of dust and ash by unimaginable weapons. Oceans boiled in nuclear fire, sweet waters were rendered a poisonous haze as engineered plagues ran rampant where the flames had not reached.

Fully two-thirds of the population was lost in the initial barrage, gene bombs ripping their victims apart from the very cores of their cells. Those who did not die were left monstrously altered. Those not twisted beyond recognition found themselves lost and undying upon the corpse of the world.

There has always existed a certain short-sightedness when it came to starry-eyed ideals as living forever. Much like flight, it seems so simple at a glance.

Of course, when one delves deeper, what seems at first so easy and convenient is beset by detail after detail. Humans have, as ever, been a relatively fragile lot, how could one hope to breathe in the thinned atmosphere at high altitudes? Or think not to be abraded by high-speed winds?

Such considerations and more besides reared their heads once the disease called death had at last been cured. Where that eldest of sicknesses was no more were still so many others.

Illness aside, injury stood as a mundane threat to the uncautious. Worst of all was the inevitability of entrapment, for with an infinite lifespan came the mathematical certainty of becoming entombed far from any aid. This last scenario became an intimate reality for myself and it is in the shadows of my tomb that I dictate this missive.

~~~

I long for even a glimpse of wan sunlight through the polluted clouds.

~~~

My name, for the record, is Aurelius. Born the second son of the Fifth House of the vaunted Jovian Estates. I have lived fully three centuries since my birth, most of those years spent plying the edges of the solar neighbourhood in search of new prospects to feed into the ever-churning engine of Progress.

I've never considered myself superstitious, with the dawning of the Undying Age such things were left by the wayside. Our forebears had been merely children playing at being gods. Theirs had lived in awe and fear to unseen spirits dissolved in the Light of Reason.

Still, it seems sometimes so clear in my mind that the day I returned to Earth was nothing short of Fate.

My memory, made perfect by careful cultivation of the basal genes, can trace the line of every moment leading up to the second I boarded the shuttle and every moment since I stepped from its ramp onto the soil of my ancestral home. The trip was to be such a simple thing, an ambassadorial meeting with buyers of our newest stock.

Prospects within the Kuiper belt had been nothing less than fantastic, as the icy bodies there rendered up a wealth of resources both chemical and mineral. It was as I shook hands with my client, there in the golden dawn of a fresh spring day, that the sky was rent asunder.

It seems funny now, those first nightmarish days have since become quaint in light of what followed. Years spun into decades as I and my fellow Methuselean peers wandered the prison that had become our lives.

I find it funny now, the pangs of hunger pulsing with my heartbeat as I watched first one and then the other succumb to injury, to sickness. Strange to watch the undying perish, to see a man fully a century one's senior be pulled apart, screaming, by the hulking, tendriled brute which had for many months been his compatriot.

Their voices still echo in my thoughts and sometimes I wonder which of the two had been more afraid.

I never took on any companions after that day. One never knew when the random turning of a genetic switch might pull one's companions inside-out, to fill them with frightful hunger and rage. Pragmatism, I told myself, would see me through the hell of my every day and soon, always soon, I would find rescue.

At night I saw, through the tattered clouds, the glittering motes of the orbital colonies like gems suspended in a backdrop of blue velvet. Bespecled with stars, their steady motion across the sky pointed them out so very clearly against the unmoving Firmament.

~~~

Even as my body began to succumb to one of the innumerable sicknesses which incubated in the warm sands I raised my eyes aloft. Weeping sores pulled open my skin, the very flesh turned gangrenous and fell away but never all of it, never enough to end the constant ache.

My lungs heaved bloody sputum between toothless gums. My hair fell away in clumps. Once in a pool of brackish black water, I caught sight of myself reflected and drew away in horror at the corpse-like visage which met my gaze.

Still, I lived and cursed my Fate, cursed my family, my father for sending me on that so simple errand to this accursed mote of mud and rock. I fumed and spat and railed against the memory of my mother who had so eagerly held her newborn child, as perfect as the rendering she had so meticulously designed months before.

I swore at the gnarled roots I chewed and the wretched animals I snared for the scant comfort they brought my empty belly. I cursed them more as I retched and heaved their desecrated bodies back upon the soil. I screamed at the very air which filled my lungs, mocking me as it carried my pitiful cries across the desert to no ear that still lived.

Now, as I languish within this tomb I long for that very same air. I long for the acrid stench of a dead civilisation.

I should have known better, should have noted the rotting supports of this grotto not as signs of life but the markers of a grave. So much I missed as that thing pursued me, seen only as its wretched body bashed loose first one pillar and then the other in its single-minded pursuit.

At least now its hunger was sated, extinguished by the ton of rock and soil which crashed down upon it and sealed me behind the capstone of its corpse.

~~~

It is so that humankind has, throughout its history, shown a fascination with the idea of immortality.

Trapped as I am, I can say that my greatest wish is to find the peace shared by those most fortunate, the grateful dead.

#creative writing #writeblr #short story

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mars-soobin · 2 years

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좋아요 (I Like It)—HK x Female!Reader (nsfw)

Tags: BestFriend!HK, female!reader, neighbor!kai, cunnilingus (receiving), bed rutting, dryhumping, oral

Readers Discretion Advised

There is just something about the puppy-type. Their charming perspective on life truly warped you out of reality. When your neighbor, and forever best friend Huening Kai bashfully decides to take a leap into the pond, you can’t help but to teach him how to swim.

“Kai-ya! I’m heading to my room, so bring the popcorn when it’s done,” you yell across the house. Kai screams in response, making you shake your head as you shuffle down the blue hallway. After nudging the bedroom door with your hips, you manage to bust your way inside. Once you set your drinks down, you finally start setting everything up for your annual “(Y/N) & Kai’s Super Scary Saturday” movie night. The sunset bleeds through your sheer curtains, the light bouncing off of Kai’s home reflecting onto your suburban one.

You stare across the green yard, eyeing the familiar blue curtains before you. That was Kai’s room. With wide windows that he would sneak out of every night at sixteen to see you, now remain shut at the ripe age of nineteen. Old enough to simply walk down the driveway to explore.

Kai stumbles through the door abruptly, with a bag full of steaming, salted popcorn and a family-sized bag of m&ms.

“Shit (y/n), stop staring and put the popcorn up it’s literally burning my skin off as we speak,” Kai whines. That was enough for you to snap out of your nostalgic daydream, hurrying to snatch the bag away from the blonde boy.

“Let me grab a blanket and we can get started, okay?” You stare into your closet for a moment, before behind down to wrestle a bundled up ball of fuzzy fabric. Naively, you don’t feel the wide brown eyes scanning the exposed skin from your black pajama shorts. The spandex material stops right at the bottom of your ass, leaving little to the imagination as you curse the blanket for getting stuck.

“Sorry for the wait. Stupid thing was caught on my suitcase,” you ramble. You notice Kai crouched on your full sized bed, mid halt in his movements. His open drink seconds away from spilling on the sheets, and his mouth is slightly agape.

“Hello? Get your drink before you spill it dude,” you say in annoyance. Kai manages to snap out of it, making sure his drink was intact before continuing his task of setting the bed up. You find your remote, searching for the shittest horror movie you can find.

“Oooh Kai look! I found another two star 80s flick!” you exclaim. Kai quickly brightens up, eyes glittering with excitement.

“You know what the say about terrible movies,” Kai starts.

“It makes great jokes!” You finish.

“Let’s get started, i literally can’t wait anymore!” You exclaim.

You turn off your bedroom light, making sure your curtains are drawn all the way closed before jumping on to your bed. Snuggling up next to Kai, you grab your snacks and start the movie.

And it’s absolutely, positively, respectfully-boring.

Halfway through the movie, you already managed to eat all the food, drink two drinks, and use the restroom in the same time period. Kai remains hyper-focused on the screen, while you’re fighting to stay awake. Your head keeps dropping on to Kai’s shoulder, blinking rapidly whenever you stay quiet for too long.

“Huening-“ you whine. Kai’s bodily flinch goes unnoticed at your voice.

“I’m bored. This movie sucks ass.” Kai simply turns his head to look at you, tilting in a way that reminds you of a young puppy’s

“Is there something else you wanna do, (y/n)?” His eyes trail down your neck, briefly admiring the small amount of skin poking out of your tank top. You just hum absentmindedly in response, dropping your body across the blonde’s lap dramatically. Your breasts push into his thighs, and he can feel the heartbeat in your chest thrumming steadily. He strokes your back daringly, getting greedy with the warmth of your skin. On reflex, you arch back with a small whimper at the light touch tickling your spine.

“Hey (y/n)…” Kai trails off. You hum absentmindedly, basking in the light soothing touches of your best friend.

“I hope this isn’t weird to ask or anything,” Kai stalls. You give up on him being honest and flip over, allowing the boy to look down at you properly.

“Kai, just spit it out already.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He frowns.

“I’ve known you since I was ten. I don’t think anything can make you uncomfortable anymore,” you state with your eyes closed. Maybe if Kai shuts up for a solid five minutes, you could probably doze off real quick.

“Yeah but-“ Kai starts off.

“There’s no buts Huening. Ask away dude.” You say bluntly. Kai shudders at the assertiveness, yet still looks at you nervously.

“Okay okay fine! Here I go,” his eyes shift to you once more, like he’s daring you to back out now. You wave your hand in the ‘hurry up or I’ll slap you’ way, making the blonde take a deep breath.

“IknowwearebothsexuallyexperiencedbutunlikeyouIfeellikeIknowabsolutelynothingandIwantyoutoteachme.” Kai rushes.

The silence is deafening as you sit up to stare at him. His cheeks are the color of your favorite blush. You can basically feel his palm sweat from where you’re sitting.

“….huh?” you say after a while of looking at Kai like he suddenly sprouted three heads out of nowhere.

“(Y/n) please for the love of god don’t make me repeat that.

“I’m sorry, but I did not hear a word you just said to me.”

“(Y/n.) ” Kai deadpans. You scowl, smacking him in the arm quickly.

“Say it or I’ll pinch you.”

“(Y/n)! No please don’t. It’s embarrassing,” he whines. You scoot in front of him, gathering your hands in his before you speak.

“Listen Kai. I’m not gonna judge you. If you think it’s that bad, then we can drop it. But I would love it if you told me. Cause curiosity is gonna kill this cat,” you halfheartedly joke. Kai mumbles under his breath about how you’re gonna kill him eventually before he says his next words slowly.

“I want to learn more things about sex. Please let me eat you out.”

And just like that, your body woke up.

“You, want to eat me, out?” you bluntly ask. The question was so obvious that he shakes his head easily. His eyes are analyzing your face, as if he’s waiting for you to slap him in the face at any given second.

“Wait, woah, hold on. Why me?”

“Why you? I thought I was the only one allowed to ask stupid questions.”

“Huening Kamal-“ you start off before Kai lets out a screech of laughter.

“Okay sorry. I thought it was obvious (y/n). You’re the only person that I’m actually comfortable with, and you’re a good teacher. So I trust myself with you.”

You sit and decide to think about it quietly. After thirty seconds of awkward silence for Kai, you finally come to a conclusion.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What is this? A John Green book? I’ll do it, Kai.”

“Let…me eat you…out?” Kai questions lightly.

“Yeah, I’ll let you experiment. Just promise me you won’t hook up with other people until we both agree that the experiment is done.” Kai shakes his head furiously at your terms.

“Deal. Now lay down.” You snort at the eagerness.

“Why are you so excited? Have you’ve never given head before?” You mock. Kai hums before taking off his burnt orange hoodie, letting his black muscle shirt rise up underneath the fabric.

“I have a few times, but it was normally for preparation reasons. This,” Kai motions between you two.

“Is just for learning and leisure.”

You stand up, removing your shorts but leaving the underwear on for decency. Laying up next to the headboard, you cross your hands on your stomach and look at Kai.

“Alrighty big boy. You know how to start, I’ll just teach you tips and tricks I like on myself, personally.”

Kai cracks his fingers quickly before laying on his stomach between your spread legs. Something shifted in his gaze; his dark eyes stare straight into your soul as his deft fingers pull the fabric down your legs. Once your underwear reaches your ankles, he gives you one final look.

“I’m okay, you can continue,” you answer calmly, but in reality you’re a poke away from losing your shit.

Kai dives straight in, flatting his tongue against you. He goes straight to your clit, giving it an extra kitten lick before lightly suckling on it. His hands gradually moved from your hips to the back of your soft thighs, holding them wider and more against your body.

You gasp at the contact, hips bucking as your hands instantly bracing against the bed beneath you.

“Again.” You demand, inching your hips farther down.

Kai takes a bolder approach, the tip of his nose nudging your clit as he teases your entrance with his tongue. Then, he lazily drags his tongue in vertical motions. His eyes are zeroed in on you, watching every muscle twitch in your body as you fight back minuscule whimpers. What really gets a reaction is his tongue diving in full force at a snails pace, making him shove his entire face in between your legs. A punched groan leaves your body at the sight. Disheveled blonde hair curling up at the ends, brushing against the insides of your thighs.

“Fuck, Kai. Gimme more.” Kai pulls off to look up at you once again.

“Can I touch you?” His voice is deeper than usual, and you can feel his hot breaths against your skin. You try to hide your eager nod as Kai removes his hands from your thighs.

“Hold yourself open for me,” he says seriously. You grasp your thighs without hesitation, not wanting to miss a second. Kai lowers himself again, except he makes direct eye contact as he goes straight for the clit again. In the midst of going down, he managed to wet his finger in between his tongue and your clit. He teases your entrance briefly, doing tiny circles, before easing the digit in carefully. That sparks a reaction from you, whimpering as you shift your hips down on his index finger. Kai wastes no time setting a pace, allowing squelching noises gradually grow. He easily slides his middle finger in from his right hand, making you grip your thighs in earnest. Kai moans once your juices start rolling down his hand, the sound vibration you straight to your core. Kai starts curling his fingers once he inserts the third finger. His tongue lazily plays with your clit in between the slow kisses he places randomly. He even nips at your thighs, making you smother his head momentarily.

“Shit sorry I-“ Kai stops his movements at your words, pausing his fingers right at the base inside of you. Your breathing heavily at the fullness of his lengthy fingers, the thought of other king things making you dizzy.

“Do it again. Close your legs around me. Suffocate me, I don’t care.”

Kai continues his very dedicated motions of drowning in your glistening pussy as he rolls his hips into the mattress. You let out a particularly loud moan at the curl of his fingers, eventually making you squeeze your legs shut.

“You like when I smother you Huening? You like when I take control?” You mock, slowly clenching around his fingers. Kai jerks at your tone, moaning straight into your pussy.

“Right there! Huening-fuck,” you gasp, your head buried deep in the pillow behind you. Kai snakes his left hand up your torso, his large palm spread across your stomach before he reaches underneath your shirt. He pushes past the material to grab at your hardened nipple, effectively rolling it between his fingers. Kai starts moving his head side to side, stimulating your clitoris in the best way possible. He alternates between digging deeper in your vagina to flexing his fingers wide, exposing you to his tongue. The feeling becomes unbearable in your lower stomach. Your toes clench and unclench at every thrust Kai makes. It creeps down your spine, igniting nerve in your body.

“Use your fingers-ah ah fuck-I’m gonna cum Huening,” You mumble. The feeling only intensifies as Kai uses two of his fingers to rapidly rub on your clit horizontally. He makes sure to alternate between quick movements and long thrusts of his tongue in between.

“Cum on my tongue, (y/n). Lemme taste all of you,” Kai says. His voice is rough and textured due to the excursion. The words alone make the dam burst between your thighs, making Kai’s hips build up in speed. Your back arches off the sheets, your body twitching at the several sensations at once. As you start to tremble, twitching in overstimulation, Kai plunges two more fingers inside of you once again.

“(Y/n) fuck I’m-,” Kai whimpers. The rough thrusts of his hips shake the bed, his rhythm getting close as he approaches his orgasm. The hand teasing your nipples pins your hips down as he buries his face in your thighs. Twisting his fingers at an agonizing speed, he places open-mouthed kisses along your thighs to ground himself. He’s lost in your sweet scent, high off your natural pheromones. You bring one of your limp hands to his hair, brushing the long strands away from his eyes before giving it a rough tug.

“You were so good baby. Make a mess for me,” you whisper. Kai lets out a gut wrenching groan, biting down on the softness of your leg as he releases in his sweatpants. Letting go of the grip on his scalp, you continue combing his hair to ease him through his intense aftershocks. The room is humid with the smell of sex, and the shitty movie starts blaring the outro song on the screen.

Kai removes his fingers, licking them tiredly yet humming at the taste. You never take your eyes off of him as you fight the urge to get turned on again. Kai then climbs up your body, pressing a soft peck to your red bitten lips. After a couple of loving kisses, you smack Kai in the shoulder again.

“You didn’t need to be taught anything, you ass. Either giving head is your best skill or you’re just in love with me.”

Kai tilts his head with a little smile, his hands resting softly at your hips before he lays down on your chest.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to figure it out then,” Kai teases.

#huening kai smut #huening kai #txt smut #huening kai x reader #huening kai x reader smut #y/n txt #hueningkai hard thoughts #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai smut #HueningKai #tommorow x together smut #Spotify

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delmoyy · 3 years

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The Devil's Red Lace

Paring: Matt Murdock/F!Reader

Notes: This is my first Matt Murdock fic and my second post on Tumblr so I thought I'd make a good impression ;) for a better experience listen to Heaven Can Wait by Michael Jackson. Also sorry if the formating is shit I'm still tryna get used to this app

Summary: you convince Matt to take a day off from patrolling so you might as well make it worth his while.

Genre: Smut??

Word count: 1.5k

It was a Friday night. Matt got back from the office and you were off of work. You spent all day planning this. So when you heard the sound of keys jingling in lock, you couldn't help but feel giddy.

"Sweetheart?" The lawyer announced as he entered the small hallway, even though he already knew you were here. He could hear your heartbeat blocks away. It was faster than usual, not hurt or scared. He zeroed in on the constant thumping: you were excited. He couldn't help the smile that sneaked its way onto his lips. He tried calling your name again as he followed your scent that waved through the apartment. This time he got an answer.

"Hey baby," you greeted simply, he could tell that you were smiling just by your tone alone, walking out to him from the bedroom and sliding the door closed. Something was...different about you today. "How was your day?" You asked, keeping your distance . You watched the visible confusion play on his features, his brows furrowed slightly. Normally you couldn't keep your hands off him whenever he walked in,bringing him into a long embrace.

"It was...good." He said before elaborating "There wasn't too much to do today, just went over some cases with Foggy. How was your day at home?" He was taking slow steps towards you now, reaching his hand out so he could feel the soft plush of your skin, so he could hold you even if it was for only a few seconds.

"My day was okaaaay." You said, dragging out the last word as you swiftly made your way to the couch, completely rejecting Matthew. You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a fit of giggles when you heard an impatient huff come from behind the couch.

"Just okay?" He echoed, playing off the slight rejection. Soft footsteps followed you to the furniture. When he took a seat next to you, you slid away to the other side of the couch with a small hum.

"Yeah,just okay." Your back was leaned against the arm of the couch."I missed you" you said softly, your voice barely a whisper.

"Really?" You rolled your eyes at the sarcasm practically oozing from his voice. "You've been avoiding me ever since I came in, not even a kiss" Matt said, pretending to be hurt. You laughed at that before scooting near him to lay your legs in his lap. He instantly ran his hands across the smooth skin, humming softly at the comforting heat radiating from it.

"Will you stay tonight?" You asked, skillfully avoiding his comment. As he ran his hands slowly up your skin,he was surprised by how much of it was bare. Maybe you were wearing shorts? He couldn't tell from this angle and you weren't allowing him much to go off of.

"Will I stay?" He echoed once again, all of his senses focused completely on you. He could hear the consistent beat of your heart, smell your body wash mixed with your personal scent. It was intoxicating. He wanted nothing more than to hold you close and live in this scent forever with just the two of you. But his city needed him. Evil doesn't sleep and if he takes a break who knows what'll happen. He needed to keep the innocent people of Hell's Kitchen safe, he needed to keep you safe. Matt was removed from his internal battle with himself by the loss of warmth. You were now sitting with your feet flat against the cushion of the couch as you hugged your knees toward you. Denying him from touching you at all. The man's brows furrowed once again.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asked quietly, reaching out for your warmth again.

His words hung thick in the air like honey. A pink glow drafted through from the digital billboard centered outside his apartment. It highlighted his features in the otherwise dark room. He was selfish and greedy when it came to you. Despite his better judgment, he would risk everything to stay here with you. He would stay because that's what you'd want. And deep down it's what he'd want too. All you had to do was say the words. God, how he wanted to hear you say it. Your scent was in every breath he took despite the distance you put between the two of you. It snaked around his lungs and fogged his brain till all he could think about was you. All he could care about was you. The silence was almost painful as he anticipated your next words.

"I want you to stay, Matthew." You finally said, your voice cutting through the tension like a hot knife. Hearing his name on your lips made him sigh softly. You got up from your spot on the couch. He could tell by the faint sound of your feet hitting the cold wooden floor. "Will you?" You asked, whispering to him like a secret. Soon enough you were straddling his lap, your thighs hugging the outside of his knees.

"Yes" you heard him breathe out,his voice almost a whine or better yet a beg. He went from not touching you at all from having you all at once. Your scent was stronger when you were in his space like this. He brought his hands up to touch you but you quickly intercepted him, grabbing both of his greedy hands and pinning them to the soft cushion of the couch. "Sweetheart—" he pleaded

"I thought about you all day, Matty" you said, your voice still quiet for him. When you were sure that he would keep still, you dragged your hands off his and moved them to cup his face.

"Really?"

"Mhm" you hummed with a small nodd. His hands still laid flat on the couch. You ghosted your lips over his, just a few inches away. You were so close. When he darted his tongue across his lips, he could taste you in the air. "I couldn't wait for you to come home" you placed a gentle peck against his lips, pulling away quickly to kiss down his neck before he could deepen the kiss. "I got all dressed up for you too…" You whispered against his burning skin. "Can you guess what I'm wearing Matty?" His breath hitched when he felt your teeth graze over the sensitive area of his neck. He groaned softly, focusing completely on you. Your scent was heavy over him, like a weighted blanket. He could feel the heat radiating from you. You weren't completely naked, but damn were you close. As you rocked yourself over his growing erection, he could hear the soft sway of a lighter fabric draping against your shoulders and flowing down your back like a waterfall. Then there was something else, it was tighter. He could hear the way it gripped deliciously at your curves. After moments of antagonizing silence and your painfully slow grinding, he was able to finally find his voice.

"Lingerie," he answered. You could feel his hands tense next to you, it took every ounce of self control he had to not flip you over and have you right there on his couch. You hummed again before biting down on his neck. He could feel you smile wide against his skin at the way he hissed softly for you. After licking a stripe up his neck you finally spoke again.

"Do you wanna know what color it is,hon?" you teased, pressing your cheek against his as you held your hands over his bigger ones. He nodded impatiently, causing you to smile again. You guided his hands to your waist, silently giving him permission to explode your vast frame. His hands traveled greedily across your skin as if he were trying to paint every inch to memory by touch alone.

"I need your words, Mathew"

"Yes" he breathed out with a shaky exhale "Yes,please." One of his hands followed the curve of your waist while the other ran the flat of your back. He played with the lace there, relishing the contrast of your soft skin and the rough lace. You kiss his cheek yet again before whispering in his ear.

"It's red Matt..." You reveal, deciding that you've dragged it long enough.You bite down once more on the sensitive skin of his neck, immediately soothing it with kitten licks and smooth kisses. "Daredevil red." You say l, your voice dangerously low against his skin as if you were teasing him. Hearing those words from you made him burn with want. He could feel sin flow through his veins. Hear it as his heart worked overtime to pump blood through all parts of his body. That's when his self control came crashing down like a broken damn, eagerness flooding his every movement. With ease he flipped you on your back against the couch, his larger frame towering yours. He stared down at you like he was a starved man and you were his last meal.

"You ruin me" he panted as he loosened his tie, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

#matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x reader #matt murderdock #daredevil fandom #daredevil #daredevil x you #nmcu fanfic #nmcu #daredevil smut #should i do a part 2?#first post #I love Matthew Murdock #matt murdock x you #how the actual fuck do people write on here #I was fighting the app just so I could format it the way I wanted and it still fucked up

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

HELLO HOW DO U FEEL ABOUT MILFS AND DILFS

oh man, here we go-

disclaimer!!- my feelings towards these people have nothing to do with their cannon actions, it is simply based on how much i want them to step on me!

also, if you think i forgot someone, let me know! i am always up for dilf/milf conversations!!!

(all photos are form either the manga or cannon animation<3)

the dilfs<3

there are so many of them so these are just a few, lol

toji fishiguro<3

this man makes my pussy leak.

take a second and look at him, google this man, it send me into shock every time without fail

(ignore the worm that i am most definitely not jealous of, definitely not, never)

idk if it’s the scar on his lip, but HIS SMIRK

ahem, back to the dilf-ing

you can’t tell me he wouldn’t domestically abuse your holes

this man would give you the dicking of your life then let you sleep alone and i’d let him

and if you pretend he didn’t forget his own sons name, he’s a pretty decent guy!

jk, lol

unfortunately, he has some cons:

would not remember your name

cares more about money than you

would leave you in the dust the second something came along

overall, 10/10

would do again, def recommend

(pro tip! if you shift into jjk and get to fuck him, you can convince yourself that you aren’t forever alone!) deff not a personal experience

enji todoroki<3

pls don’t kill me

have you seen his thighs?

and/or his titties?

i’d let him suffocate me in either of them

plus i think he’s grown out of the whole misogynistic/ sexist front so there’s that too

and there is no way this man is 6’4 and doesn’t have a magnum dong

he’d wreck my pussy them ask me to get palates for him, and i would

and his whole breeding kink thing, definitely into that

overall: 7/10

y’know the five kids thing, that’s a lot

ukai keishin<3

this is understandable

not technically a dilf, but accepted in the community as the technical team father and i’m good with that

how could anyone pass up being fucked on the counter of his shop, exactly, you can’t

in real time, right now, he’s 32

so he definitely has some experience, he knows where the clit is

this man tears you like royalty in public then fuck the shot out of you when you get home

100% dilf material

(not that anyone was doubting it)

overall 9/10

i will never not think about being fucked over the store counter, never

ikkei ukai<3

JUST HEAR ME OUT

he knows where the clit it

and he still has a fair amount of stamina left in him

and he still has muscles, he could throw his grandson onto the floor sooooooo

seems unconventional, but he would be a good sugar daddy, no question

overall, 8/10

he’s definitely really sweet to you too

silver fullbuster<3

look at him

he has big strong arms

and abandoned his son, but that doesn’t matter

he is also a villain, but that doesn’t matter either

this man would dick you to the end of the earth then ask you what’s for dinner

plus, he has earrings which is an immediate pussy getter

and he has a really hot voice, like really really hot

overall: 9/10

he’s a total asshat, but definitely would rearrange my cunny

ryuuji azuma<3

he likes food

doesn’t gain weight

it all goes to his dick, that’s cannon

he also has a hot voice, and i would actually die if he called me a good girl

he’s like 31 so it’s not that bad and he used to be a swimmer so he has a hot body

i could go on and on about how much i want to do this guy

he has a blog to do real dad behavior!

overall: 8/10

i love this man, have a nice day!

the milfs<3

mitsuki bakugo<3

yup

hate to bring this up but: boobs

i feel like she would take good care of me too

she would let you wear the bakugou family matching slippers too

but you do have to deal with katsuki, sooooooooo

overall: 8/10

she’s just a regular, extremely attractive, milf

irene belserion<3

she’s a pretty bad person

but that makes her a perfect mistress, or maybe a dominatrix

lemmie tell you, i would be this woman’s submissive in a heartbeat

plus her thighs are out of this world

no but she would definitely treat you great, no objections

overall 9/10

she’s still sweating vengeance for things that happened 400 years ago but we can move past that

hoshiumi’s mom<3

i literally don’t know what to say about this woman other than i would let her use me as a step stool

thank you

midnight<3

i feel like this is self explanatory too

i would be her fuck toy

plain and simple

this was short, but it said a lot

overall: 10/10

i would let her do literally anything to me

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #endeavor x reader #todoroki enji x reader #ukai x reader #ukai smut #endeavor smut #silver fullbuster #silver fullbuster x reader #ryuji azuma #mha smut #bnha smut #haikyuu smut #free smut #fairytail #fairytail smut #midnight x reader

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notchesandbullets · 4 years

Text

Take it From Your Hot Neighbor Baby (Virgin!Sub!Midoriya x Reader)

Art credit: Heijiu Comics

Requested by anon: OMGGGGGG I love your writing, I was thinking If I can make a request on a smut with my baby Izuku Midoriya. Where he's so beautiful and innocent and the older neighbor next door from him likes him and basically targets him for sex which is the reader of course, and he likes her too. So then she totally doms him and invites him to her house and basically go at it as Izuku's innocent's self can't handle the pleasure the reader gives him!If you could do that I love your writing, If not it's cool!!!

Warnings: slight dumbification, precious bby izuku is 19, everything that happens here is consensual, unprotected sex, pet names, overstimulation, virgin!sub!izuku (mainly), Aged up!AU, filthy smut, dirty talk, cursing.

18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!! i loved writing this :D (feel free to send me another to write, i’m already almost done with what i suspect is your other one xD)

Words: 4k

You grinned as the shared wall between you and your neighbor shook, signaling that the boy from next door was finally home.

Midoriya Izuku, a passionate and utterly clueless broccoli-haired boy turned fresh pro-hero, sweet and sensitive, everything you ever wanted in a partner. That, and he was clearly too shy to approach you.

You had been neighbors with him and his mom for forever but only until recently, after his admission into UA did you start to see him in another light besides platonic. And it wasn’t until he graduated that he had completely dominated your interest in another way entirely.

It was no secret that he used to be a scrawny kid but since his high school days, he had bulked up considerably.

Now, with the body of a tank and a soul bursting with positivity, you were completely hooked.

It really was astonishing to you how he continued to maintain that innocent personality after becoming a pro-hero. No one was that optimistic and oblivious all at the same time.

You had started out with smaller hints, bringing him food once a week to make sure he was eating properly, taking care of him when he was sick or injured and just too stubborn to admit it and go to the hospital, you name it and you’ve done it.

What was extremely exciting at first to be interacting with him like this dulled the moment you realized this baby was so innocent that all your signals were completely going over his head.

The dumb baby. Your dumb baby.

He was fast approaching 20 but you were willing to bet he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. With the way he walked, it was as if he was still the same kid you had met ten years ago.

Your parents had long since moved out of the apartment, going closer to where your grandparents were since they were getting older and needed to be taken care of. You had politely declined their invitation to go with, asking if you could take over the lease on the place since they would no longer be living here.

As their only child, they had a soft spot for you and let you do as you pleased now that you were old enough to be living on your own. They even helped you out with the rent even though that was entirely unnecessary.

Your day job paid enough.

An upbeat tune floated throughout your apartment and you danced along to the music in nothing but a thin cami and a pair of scarlet lace panties. Since it was so hot today, you had decided to forgo actual clothes. It was perfect, but you were definitely still sweating.

Tapping a finger to your chin thoughtfully, you recalled how your adorable and hot neighbor’s mom was out working all day and wouldn’t be back until late. Plus, you knew that he had no hero work today, courtesy of the boy telling you himself via text when you checked up on him earlier this week.

Pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head so that it brushed just below your thong clad ass and fell off of your shoulders, you fluffed your hair, giggling to yourself at your reflection in the mirror.

Today was the day you would make Midoriya yours.

Grabbing a few cookies from the kitchen that you had made just last night because you felt like it at that moment, you flung open your front door, knocking on his a second later.

Hopping in place excitedly, you couldn’t contain your enthusiasm. You hadn’t even bothered to message him that you were coming over, knowing that he would prefer it be a surprise.

“Izuku!!” You cheered when the door opened, immediately thrusting the plate of cookies out towards him.

He staggered a couple steps back, unprepared for your sudden attack but rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile, emerald eyes shining with gratitude.

Midoriya bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N!!”

It had taken literally years before he was comfortable calling you by your first name without any honorific attached to the end of it. But it was worth the wait as warmth sparked through your heart and a soft smile adorned your features before it was replaced with a mischievous one.

Bounding up to him, you pressed your chest against his purposefully, making it so that you almost lost your balance. You gasped in mock surprise when he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist to catch you, relishing in how strong his arms felt around you.

Midoriya stuttered as your boobs were practically smushed against his face by how close you were to him. Were they always that big?!

It wasn’t like he masturbated to you everyday or anything. Definitely not.

He groaned, throwing his head back as your body heat encompassed him.

Who was he kidding, he jerked off to you every spare second he got. He couldn’t help it though. Your beautiful smile always beckoning him over, those alluring eyes of yours enticing him closer and closer until he felt as though he could combust merely by standing in your presence alone.

Giggling, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip and you batted your eyes at him. A shudder ran down his spine and you bit back a smile at the blush that sat on his freckled cheeks.

“Do you want to come over for a little while?” You asked softly, feigning shyness and you rubbed your thighs together. “I have something I want to show you.”

The action didn’t go unnoticed and Midoriya’s mouth dried as the swell of your breasts peeked up over the low scoop of your shirt when he glanced down.

“Uh, y-yes?” He uttered, voice shaking with uncertainty as he automatically agreed to what you had asked him without even thinking about it.

You giggled, eyes lighting up in excitement. “Great!!”

He stumbled after you as you dragged him next door to your apartment, losing his balance and falling on the couch as you pushed him inside.

Your eyes shifted from playful to concern as he landed on his back with an ‘oomph’.

You were quick to cup his face, examining him closely. “Oh no, Izuku, are you alright?”

“Y-Y/N!!!” He stammered out, face bright red at your proximity.

“Are you alright?” You repeated, uncharacteristically serious and seeing as how you were asking him more than one question, he nodded to both.

You chuckled, leaning in close. His cheeks burned at your proximity and although you wanted so badly to tease him, you needed to get something straight first.

“You ever been fucked before, baby?” You cooed sweetly and a visible shiver shot down his spine.

He gaped for a moment, not used to you saying something so brazenly but shook his head wordlessly.

You smiled, your tone taking on a gentle lilt as you sensed his nervousness. “Want me to be your first?”

This time he didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.” He whispered, barely breathing as he finally confessed what he had been longing for ever since he turned of age. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t outwardly show it, but your heart skipped a beat at his admission and the butterflies fluttered uncontrollably.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip to contain the wide smile. “Something tells me that you want to be played with, am I right?”

A whine bubbled past his lips and your smile turned wicked. Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him. You wondered how he would look when you played with his nipples, which you sure would be so sensitive it would have him hard in a heartbeat, or how he looked writhing under you when he was about to cum.

Anticipation thrummed through your veins and you couldn’t believe that after all this time, you finally had the opportunity to give him that kind of pleasure.

“Such a good boy.” You crooned softly and he audibly keened, stretching towards you desperately as you denied him a kiss. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

Midoriya’s head was spinning and his brain was short-circuiting from how unbelievably close you were to him. The sweet smell of your perfume flooded his senses and he swallowed thickly, very much aware of how little clothes you were wearing. You had yet to touch him and he was already a goner.

“S-Safeword?” He stammered out, his eyes shutting automatically as you threaded your fingers through his hair, a small moan breaking through the weighted silence as you scratched his scalp.

You observed his every move, every flutter of his lashes as he fell under your spell without even trying to succumb.

“Mmhm…” You hummed. “A word that you can use at any time and I’ll stop everything.”

A safeword was for both parties but you were fairly sure that you wouldn’t need it, being more experienced than him and aware of your boundaries. But just in case, you whispered that little tidbit of information in his ear so that he wasn’t left out of the loop.

“What if…” Midoriya gulped, restraining himself to keep his hands at his sides no matter how desperately he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked. “C-Can’t I just tell you to stop?”

You frowned a tiny bit, not put off by his question but rather how fucked out he looked already. The poor boy was already straining in his pants, the bulge making your mouth water but you kept your head on straight.

“You can.” You agreed. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

He glanced away from you, thinking hard. He wasn’t all innocent. He had watched porn before when dared to by Bakugou after one of the class movie nights at Heights Alliance back when they were at UA, and he was embarrassed how quickly he got attached to the videos that had bondage and overstimulation.

It always looked so enticing. He wanted to know what it felt like to be pinned down and overpowered until pleasure rode on every one of his senses.

He wanted you to do that to him.

“W-What about if I just used your name?”

Midoriya cringed as soon as he suggested it and took it back faster than you could react, another idea tumbling out of his mouth in a split second.

“Black?” He whispered, avoiding eye contact with you.

Baby boy blinked so nervously, worried you might refuse or reject him for any reason and you took his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his face close to yours.

“Alright baby, that’s perfect.” You reassured softly. “Either one of us can use it and then everything stops, okay?”

He nodded, getting more excited as your breath fanned across his lips.

“Need to hear you say it.” You demanded quietly.

His green curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. “I understand!!”

Midoriya stiffened for a moment in surprise as you finally pressed your lips against his, sealing his first kiss and he swore his heart stopped beating. Then, he melted into putty as you moved your lips skillfully against his, coaxing him to return it with as much lust and passion as you were igniting within him.

You pulled away to lean in close to his ear, trailing a finger up and down his chest playfully.

“Let me take care of you, Izuku~” You cooed, slyly licking the shell of his ear, savoring in the shiver that shot down his spine as a result of your ministrations.

You continued down, planting hot and wet open-mouthed kisses along his jaw as he whined and wriggled beneath you. Trailing down his neck to his collar bones and then his bare chest as you ripped open his shirt in one swift movement, you pinned his wrists above his head.

A protest ripped from his throat at your display of dominance.

“Y-Y/N!! I wanted to—”

“To what?” You questioned smugly.

Midoriya whimpered pathetically and you smirked.

He blushed, looking away. The boy was built like a bull but was an absolutely softie, innocent pure little bean at heart. He didn’t have what it took to take over.

“You wanted to touch me?” You asked, laving your tongue around one of his sensitive nipples. “You wanted to be on top?”

His face scrunched up at the strange sensation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as you bit down on the tender flesh.

You licked your lips seductively, making a show of your tongue grazing over your teeth as you gazed down at him through hooded eyes. “Do you think you deserve to touch me after being such a bad boy?”

You heard him every night. The walls were thin in the cheap apartment complex you lived in. Too thin.

“Don’t touch me until I say so.” You ordered.

You heard every wanton moan that bubbled past his pouty lips, such pretty little sounds that you wanted to hear all for yourself. You were jealous of the others in the vicinity that can undoubtedly hear him as well. The only thing that settled your heart at ease was the luscious cries of your name falling from his lips.

And now, all your neighbors would know just who he belonged to.

Midoriya gulped nervously and you reveled in the adrenaline pumping through your veins at being in control and dominating him. Your shirt rode up as you straddled his hips, and he wriggled beneath you, wanting nothing more than to touch you.

You trailed a finger from his chest all the way to his navel, teasing the waistband of his pants. He whined as you wiggled your ass down to sit comfortably on top of his thighs. Deftly unbuttoning his jeans, your eyes flickered back up to him.

“Oh my, these look so uncomfortable.” You mock pouted, sneakily biting the zipper of his fly and pulling it down. “Do you want me to take them off for you?”

You grinned as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into your feather-light touch, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes in frustration. Slowly pulling down his pants and boxers together, your eyes bugged out as you saw what he was packing.

“Oh…” You mused. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

If you thought he was big, you were dead wrong. This boy was hung as a horse. Well endowed to the max, he was easily packing eight inches and you couldn’t even fit your hands all away around his thick girth.

You stroked him as best as you could but judging by that guttural groan that erupted from his mouth, you’d say you were doing a pretty good job.

“Please!!” Midoriya begged, practically sobbing as you teased him and it was like music to your ears. “Please, Y/N, make me feel good!!”

“Yeah,” You whispered, suckling on the vein that ran on the underside of his stiff member. “You want me to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes, please!!” He cried, fisting the fabric of the sofa, remembering your rule not to touch you yet.

But it was killing him.

The foreplay had made you wet enough to take him and you weren’t keen on waiting another second longer.

Positioning yourself over his leaking head, the tip of his engorged shaft rubbed against your puffy folds as you pushed your thong to the side.

Midoriya’s eyes bulged out of his head as he saw the red lace and he couldn’t stop his hands from shooting to your waist as you threw your shirt up over your head, leaving you in that thin cami that left nothing to the imagination.

“F-Fuck—” You cursed as you sank down on him, thighs trembling from the effort of taking him. “Izuku, baby, you’re so big.”

He was rock hard and pressing against your inner walls just right. It had been so long since someone had filled you up like this and now that you had him, no one even came close to any of those prior.

Midoriya was huffing, moaning uncontrollably as the rush of pleasure he got by being encased in your tight heat so quickly. His hands gripped your hips, kneading the flesh of your ass as he started to rock you back and forth in his lap.

You completely ignored the fact that he disobeyed your order.

“Dumb baby,” You cooed softly. “Does that pussy feel good around your cock? Huh? Tell me.”

“Yes— hhgh, I love it so much, Y/N, you feel so tight, ahh!!” He mewled, unable to think of anything else except how good your cunny felt fluttering around him.

His face was beautifully flushed, unable to tear his gaze off of where his cock had disappeared into you. The sticky wetness smeared against his hip bones made your arousal evident and he was impossibly turned on at the vision in front of him.

You threw your head back as he took over control, gyrating your hips for you before you were even adjusted to his massive length. A breathy moan tumbled out of your lips as his fingers knotted their way into your hair, yanking it back so that your hips canted into him with every thrust.

“I-Izuku!!” You moaned loudly as he roughly and sporadically pounded into you.

You squealed as he pulled you down to his chest to get a better angle, all the breath vanishing from your lungs as he planted his heels and fucked up into you so fast that you would’ve fallen off from the force if he wasn’t holding onto you with an iron grip.

“Sorry, Y/N!!” He broke off with a whine and burrowed his face into your neck as you clenched around him, his hips stuttering. “But I’m about to—”

You shrieked as he released inside of you, painting your walls with his thick, milky white cum. Chest heaving, you pushed him down and straightened up, clicking your tongue.

“Such a selfish baby.” You crooned, controlling your breathing enough to put up a confident front. “I didn’t even get to cum yet.”

His eyes widened in horror at not satisfying you first. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t— Gah!!”

His earnest apology was interrupted as you began bouncing on him again, keen on reaching your high. His spent length twitched inside of you and he whimpered, eyes screwed shut at the pain.

“Y/N!! It… It hurts!!” Midoriya whimpered pitifully, his eyes screwed shut at the overstimulation.

“Aw,” Your smile was sadistic and you threw your ass back into his lap intentionally, causing him to throb within you. “Does it?”

“Yes!!” He cried out. “Fuck, please stop!!”

You pouted sadly, gyrating your hips faster. “But I haven’t even cum yet.”

It was too much. Your words spun with those sinful rocks of your hips was making a lethal mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his system and he whined, pawing at your hips.

“Y/N, please!!” He begged, unsure what he was begging for at this point.

It didn’t take long for him to get hard again. You weren’t sure if his short refractory period was a side effect of his power or the fact that he had just lost his virginity to you and wanted you again, but you were definitely going to oblige him either way.

Midoriya arched into your scalding touch as you leaned down to kiss him once again. Your soft lips and the hot cavern of your mouth distracted him as your tongues danced together and he almost forgot about the fact that he was balls-deep inside of you.

Until you started to move again.

His cry was muffled as you licked it out of his mouth before pulling away.

Your grin widened and you rocked your hips back and forth at a mind-blowing pace, reducing the blubbering boy beneath you into a whimpering mess.

But your confident façade soon vanished as his hands found purchase on your hips and bucked up wildly.

The grin slipped off your face and you whimpered, fingers splaying on his bare chest for balance as he went wild, fucking up into you with abandon.

You could do nothing else other than hold on and pray you wouldn't fall off of him as he took over.

Biting your lip, you desperately tried to regain control. “Izuku—”

He gritted his teeth, ignoring you and your eyes widened as green lightning started to surround his body.

Your eyes widened. “Wait—!”

He didn't.

Your head tipped back and the loudest scream you've ever produced ripped from your throat as he used One for All to completely destroy your pussy. But to your disbelief, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down when you contracted around him.

His hips slammed up into yours at a breaknecking speed and tears blurred your vision as you cried out, sobbing with pleasure as he finally made you cum.

“Y/N, you’re milking my cock so much!!” Midoriya blurted out with a raspy moan as another orgasm spiraled to you and you shrieked, this one hitting harder than the last.

At some point, you blacked out.

When you came to, Midoriya was hovering over you worriedly, his green eyes glistening with concern as he called your name over and over again.

Sitting up with a groan, you realized that he had laid you down on the couch and covered you with a blanket.

“Y/N?” The boy asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes as he sat down by your side.

You offered him a smile, every bone in your body protesting as you sat up. Midoriya was helping you in a second, ignoring your feeble protests that you could do it yourself.

The next minute, he played with his fingers awkwardly.

“Was… Was it good for you?” He asked timidly, blinking his big eyes up at you.

You cracked a smile at how earnest he was. Cutie.

“Of course it was.” You murmured, planting a soft kiss on his forehead before staring straight into his eyes. “You know this means you're mine, right?”

Midoriya blinked his doe eyes, mouth parting slightly. “Eh?!”

You smirked. “Yup.”

“Really?!?!” He asked excitedly, leaning forward to stick his face close to yours and you giggled.

Adorable. Simply adorable.

“Yeah, baby.” You whispered, cupping his face and pecking his freckled cheek. He was so sweet. So pure.

You couldn’t wait to defile him more. Wait until he was exposed to the world of BDSM.

Licking your lips slyly, you smirked. “You’re all mine.”

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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lire-casander · 2 years

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He compartido 11.207 publicaciones este 2022

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He etiquetado 4109 publicaciones en 2022

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Longest Tag: 138 characters

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Mis publicaciones más populares este 2022:

forever in a second too short (home is a heartbeat)

here it is! my contribution to @911lsbb! i hope you're ready for a ride! chapters will be posted once a day for twelve days. are you ready?

on ao3

chapters:

chapter #1: intro — on tumblr

chapter #2: first verse — on tumblr

chapter #3: first pre-chorus — on tumblr

chapter #4: first chorus — on tumblr

chapter #5: second verse — on tumblr

chapter #6: second pre-chorus — on tumblr

chapter #7: second chorus — on tumblr

chapter #8: solo — on tumblr

chapter #9: bridge — on tumblr

chapter #10: third pre-chorus — on tumblr

chapter #11: third chorus — on tumblr

chapter #12: outro — on tumblr

pairings: tk strand/carlos reyes, judd ryder/grace ryder, nancy gillian/mateo chavez, paul strickland/marjan marwani

characters: tk strand, carlos reyes, jonah, owen strand, enzo, judd ryder, grace ryder, nancy gillian, tommy vega, mateo chavez, paul strickland, marjan marwani, izzie vega, evie vega, gabriel reyes, andrea reyes, mitchell, alex, original child characters, original characters

warnings: alternate universe — au, alternate universe — with kids, alternate universe — future fic, alternate universe — school teacher, alternate universe — celebrity, alternate universe — movie, alternate universe — marry me (2022), vaguely inspired by the movie, angst, fluff, cheating (not between tarlos), past/reference drug addiction, grief, references to sister act 2, mentions of death, mentions of accidents, breakup, emotional hurt/comfort, fake dating, more tags to be added

disclaimer: the opinions expressed by certain characters in this work of fiction are not shared by the author.

rating: teen and up audiences

summary: tk strand is a famous singer who’s about to marry his beau alex fletcher onstage in front of around twenty million fans. carlos reyes is a teacher whose whole live revolves around his twelve-year-old daughter and his classes. when tk’s wedding ceremony goes south because of a video of alex cheating on tk with his assistant, their lives become a tangled mess. as they wade through life together by a whim of fate, carlos and tk learn to move forward from a past that haunts them both and into a future that could be everything they wanted it to be, if they just allowed themselves to be happy.

fun facts about writing this fic!

i’ve used transcripts for both the movie and some episodes of the show. here you have the links!

* marry me

* 911 lone star s01e01

* 911 lone star s01e03

* 911 lone star s01e10

* 911 lone star s02e04

* 911 lone star s02e14

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22 notas. Fecha de publicación: 26 de julio de 2022

six sentence sunday

the thing is, this is the last snippet i share publicly from the fic™ until it gets posted as part of the @911lsbb challenge. it's done at 108,763 words, only a few loose ends to fix and then the process of proofreading. so yeah, my baby is definitely grown.

since this is the last i'll be posting about the fic™, i wanted to tag some of the people who have made this possible. you guys rock! @tarlos-spain, @noxsoulmate, @doublel27, @moviegeek03, @meloingly, @marjansmarwani, @morganaspendragonss, @alilypea, @alidravana, @ravens-words, @aliceschuyler, @laelipoo, @breannacasey and everyone in our little discord family! this fic couldn't have been done without you, and i'm so grateful for all of you.

here, have the last offering of the fic™ until july... it's angsty, as you might have already guessed.

“What’s wrong is that I don’t have an answer to give Jonah whenever he asks me about why you guys aren’t in our lives anymore,” TK replies, voice tinged with something that’s rawer than pure feeling. Carlos stares at him wide-eyed. “What’s wrong is that I wish you’d be there but I know that I fucked up and I don’t deserve you, or Leyre, or the happiness we had. What’s wrong—” he trails off for a second, looking down at his feet until he seems to muster up enough courage to look back up at Carlos, who’s entranced by the passion that oozes from TK’s words. “What’s wrong is that every morning and every night,” TK continues slowly, deliberately, as though he’s measuring every single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I lie in bed wondering why you’re not beside me. That’s what’s wrong.”

23 notas. Fecha de publicación: 5 de junio de 2022

wip wednesday

i'm presenting you today a new snippet of my 911ls big bang, that is slowly but steadily growing. now over 7k!

TK wakes up on the day of his wedding to fingers jabbing into his skin. He groans; he went to bed last night relatively late after spending most of his time after rehearsals playing board games with Jonah. It's way too early for anyone to be trying to wake him up so unceremoniously.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Jonah says, his childish voice cheery and clear. "It's time for breakfast!"

"Oh, is it now?" TK replies, cracking his eyes open in time to see Jonah hovering over him. "C'mere, Jonah," he coaxes. He reaches out, but Jonah playfully bats his hand away.

"Not Jonah here," he says, faking a deep voice. TK smiles at the giggles that follow.

"Not Jonah? Then who are you?" he plays along.

"The Cookie Monster!" Jonah shrieks, dropping his whole weight on top of TK. For a moment they're both a pile of flailing limbs until TK decides on attacking instead of defending, and he launches himself into tickling his brother.

"Aaaah, the Cookie Monster is attacking me!" he cries out. "Time for revenge!"

It's not long before Jonah is reduced to a panting, laughing puddle over TK's covers. He smiles softly at his little brother, hair spiked in all directions and still laughing. "That wasn't fair," Jonah accuses him.

"All's fair in war."

"This wasn't war!" Jonah sticks his tongue out to him. “You were attacking an innocent child.”

TK tickles him some more before allowing Jonah to just lie down with his head on TK’s chest and his arms pinning him to the bed. He thinks it’s nice to have his little brother around. He should ask Enzo to bring Jonah over more often, even though he knows that his schedule is all over the place most of the time. But maybe now that Alex is finally finishing his tour and they’re starting a new page of their life together, TK can settle down enough for Jonah to start spending more time at the penthouse.

Maybe that way Jonah may get to know Alex and stop hating on him.

24 notas. Fecha de publicación: 9 de marzo de 2022

the dream of someone else

[4,700 words] [teen and up audiences] [beta’ed by @moviegeek03. you're the best, brit. i wouldn't have finished this without you.] [title from you’ve got mail] [carlos reyes, tk strand, original female characters] [alternate universe — college, alternate universe — coffee shop, alternating povs, carlos is a criminal studies major, tk is a health science major, vandalizing of public property, alternate universe — movie setting, loosely based on you’ve got mail au, mentions of past drug addiction, mentions of recovery] [written for @911auweekend, day 1: not your average coffee shop au, day 3: outsider’s pov tinder date au, day 4: writer’s choice and for my good things happen bingo square coffee shop au]

[carlos reyes wasn’t expecting a penpal out of his busy mornings studying at the cafeteria. tk strand hadn’t expected anyone to reply to his message left on a table out of boredom and struggling.]

the dream of someone else on ao3

The cafeteria is bursting with life when Carlos sets foot in the place, ready for a quick break in between his classes. He’s spent the past three weeks holed up in his room trying to finish one of his essays, and he’s made it in time, so he thinks he deserves a reward. However, he would have liked for the place to be a bit quieter. He eyes the tables warily until he sees one free table further inside the cafeteria. He makes a beeline for the table, dropping his messenger bag on top of it noisily. Whatever happens now, this table is his now.

He knows he needs to leave the bag on the table to go order, and he isn’t really so keen on doing so, but he doesn’t want to give up his table and he desperately needs caffeine. He grabs his wallet, checks that nobody would want to steal his secondhand Introduction to Psychology textbook, and runs to the counter. For all the people boisterously chatting across the cafeteria, the baristas are not too busy, so he gets his coffee and a bagel in record time and rushes back to his table. His messenger bag is still on top of the table, and it doesn’t look like anybody has come even close to it. He sighs, falling down on the chair while managing not to spill his coffee, and takes his book out of the bag.

Carlos opens the book at the page he last marked, realizing he needs to take more notes from the book than he initially expected. He huffs; he’s been attending class these past weeks, but the stress of having to hand in an essay on Violence in Society has made him slack in his other classes. He needs to be ready for his class in around an hour and a half — he’s still cursing the planning he made at the beginning of the year, but he thought it’d be great to have such a span of time to relax and do nothing. If he could travel back in time and tell Carlos from three months ago that he wouldn’t have a moment to himself even with the ninety-minute gap between Introduction to Criminal Justice and Introduction to Psychology. He’s grateful that the building where he has most of his classes holds a cafeteria so he doesn’t have to run around campus and waste a lot of time. He skims over the last of the notes he took in class, which should be complementing the ones he takes out of his book, and reads that, according to what he jotted down a week ago, the professor announced they would be paired up for an upcoming project today.

Carlos doesn’t really want to work with anyone these days. He’s a perfectionist, he doesn’t like how other people work, and he ends up taking more than he can manage in order to finish the assignment in time. He’s been lucky to ditch working with peers for the past three months; he guesses his lucky streak ends this afternoon.

With a shake of his head, he focuses back on his textbook. He notices that the paper where he’s been writing down a few ideas is almost full, so he puts the book downwards and sticks his hand into the half-open messenger bag on top of the table. He fishes for a notebook and his pencil case, only to come up with just the former. He mutters to himself, “I know I put it somewhere in here,” before proceeding to turn the bag upside down — careful as to not slosh his coffee out of the cup. The movement makes the few contents inside the bag spill over the table, and as he finally sees his pencil case, falling onto the surface with a thud that gets somewhat lost in the background noises of the cafeteria, he also notices there’s scribble on the table.

He frowns. He isn’t one for vandalizing public furniture, but the presence of whatever message that’s on the surface makes him feel a bit icky about the cleanliness of the cafeteria. “What the—” he refrains himself from swearing, still under the spell of his mother’s words about gentlemen and swearing. He leans in, face almost against the wooden surface, so he can read the black-inked words, so different from his usual chicken scratch.

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.

He repeats the words slowly in a soft voice, for fear that someone might overhear him and think he’s gone crazy. They roll nicely on his tongue, and the message behind them reaches Carlos’ heart. He’s moved by the force of the verses, which he recognizes are from Henley, and before he knows it he’s grabbing a sharpie and writing in the best handwriting he can muster the following verses to the poem.

In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.

He feels a wave of accomplishment at having followed the poem with the next few verses — conveniently forgetting he’s just written on public property with permanent ink — and sets to re-read his book and jot down a few notes that could help him study for his test.

There's a calmness in the cafeteria right before closing time that TK cherishes. He spends his days running around campus, attending classes or volunteering at the in-campus LGTBQIA+ association he discovered during his very first day of college. And, since about a week ago, he's had to juggle that with having to meet with Carlos Reyes for their joint Psychology project.

Sometimes he hates his life.

He waves at his favorite barista, who's wiping down at the counter, before he approaches her. "Hey, Anne," he greets, leaning onto the surface. "How's the day been?"

"Hectic as always." Anne smiles at him. "Your usual? I can even throw an avocado and Philadelphia bagel in it."

"You haven't run out of them today?" TK beams at her. Those are his favorite treats, but his schedule doesn't allow him to be at the cafeteria before everyone else's gone through the supplies of avocado and Philadelphia bagels.

"Let's say I got one for you," Anne tells him with a wink. "C'mon, TK, I'll bring you your coffee and your bagel to your table."

"You're the best!" He lifts his fingers to his lips to send her an air kiss before turning to his usual table by the far end of the place.

He flops down on the chair, immediately checking the surface for new words. TK knows he shouldn't have done it, but he'd come to the cafeteria one night after his weekly meeting at the local NA — a requirement from his parents in order for him to go to college three thousand miles away from them — and he hadn't felt all that good. He'd taken out his sharpie, and before he'd known it, he'd been scribbling down the first four verses of his favorite poem about remaining whole in the face of adversity. He'd needed the reminder. Anne had almost had a conniption when she'd seen how he'd written on the table.

But, the following night, TK had found the next four verses of the poem scribbled beneath his own four, and his heart had done a giddy somersault. He doesn't know who's behind the chicken scratch, but for a whole week straight he's been exchanging verses and messages. It's been a wild seven days, and there's been some sort of weird comfort in the knowledge that there's been someone at the other end of a sharpie ready to read TK's thoughts and whines.

He checks the surface, but the wood looks pristine — not a single word inked in black and blue.

Anne comes by with his coffee and his bagel, and sighs when he looks up at her helplessly. "Anne—" he begins, but she cuts him off.

"I couldn't stop it," she explains with a shrug after she's left his coffee mug and his bagel with so much as a small droplet of liquid sloshed on the otherwise clean table. "I know it's been some sort of escape these past days, but my manager said she couldn't afford having any table littered like that."

"It's not—" TK bit his lip before raising his voice. He's gone to enough anger management sessions to recognize the signals and try to appease them by breathing in deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth before continuing, "I didn't think when I started doing it. I'm sorry. But this is the only way I could communicate with this person," he says in a small voice. He doesn't even know if he's penpalling with a guy or a girl, but he knows the other person might as well be his soulmate, be it romantic or platonic.

"What about you stick to post-it notes?" Anne suggests. "You can place it under the table, make sure it doesn't fall down."

"If it isn't on the surface, how will the other person know where to look?" he asks, frowning. He has a stack of post-it notes, but he isn't sure the glue on the paper will hold for longer than a few minutes. "And won't it be taken away anyway?"

"What's under the table isn't checked that often," Anne offers. "Plus, Abigail from the morning shift thinks she knows who your penpal is," she continues in a conspiratorial voice. "She can always explain where to find the next note."

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30 notas. Fecha de publicación: 22 de marzo de 2022

Mi publicación más popular de 2022

the fire within

[1,718 words] [teen and up audiences] [beta'ed by @meloingly] [mateo chavez, judd ryder, captain tatum (house 129), captain andrews (house 122)] [character study, angst, spoilers for s03e02, mentions of collapsed buildings, mentions of rescues, mateo-centric]

[the fire has robbed him of so many things. the fire gave and the fire took, and mateo isn't about to let the flames burning in his soul consume him without having fought back.]

the fire within | on ao3

a sense of family series

Mateo wakes up every morning right with his alarm. He gets out on the bed, steps into the ensuite bathroom in the room that was TK’s but it's now his, brushes the morning breath out of his teeth, and comes back outside ready to make the bed. It's his routine — his schedule for every single day that he's got a shift, no matter his schedule, he never fails. It's simple and yet effective; he's never been late a day in his life, not even when his teachers back at school thought he wasn't the most brilliant pea in the pod and he was lacking motivation. He likes having a structure in his life, and he's been thankful for his ingrained habit ever since the 126 station had been red-tagged for demolition.

He wakes up. He brushes his teeth. He makes his bed. He has some oatmeal and orange juice. He grabs his keys and drives to the 129 firehouse every single shift.

He still feels empty inside.

Switching firehouses — being cast separately from the rest of his friends at the 126 — has taken a toll on him. It'd taken him so long to actually believe in himself, in his abilities, and he'd needed Captain Strand and his northern vision to flourish. He'd found a family in the 126, in the outcasts and the abandoned, in the diversity that painted every single corner of the building with bright colors of acceptance and tolerance. He’d felt like he belonged, for the first time in his life — like there was nothing wrong with him, like he was worthy of being loved. When the 126 got closed, the building fit for rezoning, he thought they had a chance at fighting. He thought they could overcome anything if they stayed together.

He’d been so wrong.

They’d drifted away from the very beginning. Paul, Judd and Marjan had been placed together at the 122, and TK and Nancy had followed Captain Vega first to save the world during a dust storm and then into the private sector so they could remain together. Captain Strand had accepted some position in the higher-up ranks as to be able to get the 126 up and running through a shortcut that, instead of working, backfired on them when Billy Tyson used Captain Strand’s arguments to demolish their hopes and their future.

Captain Strand had demolished Tyson with a well-placed right hook, and that had been the beginning of the end.

And he — he’d become stranded at the 129, with people who hadn’t respected them in the beginning, but who had learned to treat him like a human being after saving his new Captain’s life out of a sense of duty; not because he thought the Captain deserved to be saved when he’d given him so much grief, but because this was — is — who he really is. A first responder. A firefighter.

A damn hero like the movies he loves so much.

Not that he feels much like it right now, in front of the collapsed building that once was Providence Pasture Church, waiting on Captain Andrews from the 122 and Captain Tatum — his own Captain, now — to tell them what to do. He can’t stop replaying the exact moment when the building crumbled around Paul, engulfing his brother-in-fire and sequestering him from the light and the safety of the open spaces around the building. Objectively, he knows the dangers they all face every single day — he’s learned the hard way exactly what they might encounter out there during a call, after what happened to Tim — but it’s very different to see it happening to one of his own. With Tim, he’d been far from the scene, Captain Strand being the only one who actually witnessed the ball of fire impacting against Tim’s chest. With Paul, he’s seen first-hand the collapsed roof giving out beneath Paul; he’s been witness to Paul disappearing in a mist of rubble and dust.

It’s giving him a headache.

“Cap, we gotta get in there before USAR boys put a red tag on the whole building,” Judd is almost shouting at his Captain, who’s having none of that. Captain Andrews goes off about how it’d be safer for all people involved to let the building be red-tagged and start a snail-paced rescue who’d end up being a recovery instead. He sees the moment Judd snaps, the vein in his neck pulsating against his skin as he spits, “Well, with all due respect, Sir, that would take a couple of days.”

“That’s better than the roof of Damocles crashing down on your heads right now,” Captain Tatum retaliates, looking really satisfied at his punch line. His radio cracks to life, a voice requesting his attention, and that’s the moment Captain Andrews chooses to intervene again.

“Judd, you saw what happened the last time we went in. We don't even know Paul or that girl's status. Much less where they are in the pile.”

Judd looks crestfallen for a second, but if Mateo knows him well enough — and he does, because he’s grown up with the old 126 — Judd’s just gearing up for a comeback. “Okay, well, hey, Cap, Cap, Cap, Cap,” he begins, almost breathlessly, gesturing back to where Lindsey’s parents are shivering under the snow. “Hey, look, if we lose their little girl, I wanna be able to look 'em in the eye and say to 'em we did everything we could to save her. And right now,” he continues, “we cannot do that. However, if we go in there and we're quick and we tread lightly, we can take a look around before USAR shuts this whole scene down.”

There’s a pregnant silence, heavy with all the words that are kept unsaid between them, like a wordless conversation that Mateo is still trying to figure out. “Okay,” Captain Andrews concedes. “But if they make the call I want your word, you get your butts out of there right away."

For a moment, Mateo fears Judd's just going to flip off his Captain, but after some tense seconds, he says, "Deal."

Captain Tatum chooses that moment to come back, announcing that the 129 is required somewhere else — Mateo isn't paying enough attention. He's staring back at the building, debris and smoke in equal parts calling his name.

"Chavez," he hears Captain Tatum calling him. "You got a wax build-up? Your house is on the move."

Mateo stares back at him. Suddenly, the whole world has slowed down enough that he can feel the twitching of the Earth under the soles of his boots. He can feel the icy bite of the snow already plummeting from the skies. He dares a glance at the collapsed structure, the broken metal a heap of devastation in front of his eyes.

The fire has robbed him of so many things. The fire took the house he shared with his inconsiderate roommates, but it gave him a home with Captain Strand. The fire sent the 126 tumbling down in between well-placed explosions, but it provided him with a renewed sense of purpose. The fire destroyed Carlos’ condo, but it gave Mateo a new family to come back home to. But when the fire that burned deep within them had finally caught in flames around them — sending millions of sparks igniting around TK as Carlos finally walked out barely hours before Captain Strand made a beeline for Hill Country — then the fire had given Mateo anything but grief and despair.

The fire gave and the fire took, and Mateo isn't about to let the flames burning in his soul consume him without having fought back.

He’s a phoenix rising from the dust that settled in his soul when he got swept away from the place he called home. He’s a supernova ready to explode.

He makes the decision in the split second that takes him to understand the difference between duty and love.

"The 129 may be my house," he says clearly, shocking everyone. He’s staring at his captain straight in the eye. "But Paul's my family.” He takes a deep breath, but he’s not backing down. If anything, he’s soaring. “I have to help rescue him, sir.”

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31 notas. Fecha de publicación: 16 de enero de 2022

Descubre tu resumen del 2022 en Tumblr →

#tumblr2022 #resumen del año #mi resumen del 2022 en tumblr #tu resumen del año en tumblr #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

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