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igotanidea · 1 year

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Make a wish: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Requested as a part of my celebration: Dick Grayson + midnight

Warnings: spoiler alert, there's some innuendo, but nothing explicit. And it's a bit short, given my standards (1.068 words)

***

10 minutes to midnight.

She was lying in her bed, with eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. She could not sleep, but truly she did not want to. Instead of turning onto the other side and falling into the arms of Morpheus, dreaming sweet dreams she was tossing and turning in the dark. Thinking.

Waiting.

8 minutes to midnight

Dick was out on the street of Bludhaven, patrolling as usual. After a couple years of a relationship with a vigilante you kinda get used to that, but the worry and fear can never truly go away. And on nights like this she was way more tuned to all the sounds coming from the outside. Catching the potential victim’s screams for help or the sounds of crashing cars and accidents, all by default. Even the barking of a dog in the neighborhood was multiplied today, making it seem like it was a monster from hell rather than just a house animal.

With every other breath her heart was picking up the pace, creating crazy scenarios of what could happen.

Please, be safe. Please, be safe…..

5 minutes to midnight

Her mind was going crazy and she caught herself on counting the reflexes of the passing cars on the ceiling. Each of them drove by people, man or woman, civilians of crime lords. Some of them may need Dick’s help and protection tonight, but who was going to protect him.

2 minutes to midnight

She sighed deeply and get out from the warmth of bed, stepping onto the ironically adverse cold wooden floor, not bothering by searching for the slippers. Since she was wearing only Dick’s oversized T-shirt and some shorts the chill of the apartment made her shiver, but Y/N could not care less. There were more important things occupying her mind.

Engulfed in the reverie, the girl took a few steps towards he window, looking down into an empty street. So quiet, so peaceful and so omniscient at the same time.

Bludhaven was no Gotham, when she was born and raised, but it did not made it crime-free and she knew it well enough. After all, she was a lawyer dealing with some examples of it. The cruelty and ruthlessness of people was appalling and even though it should not, it always made her dwell on the unfairness and helplessness of the justice system. She was doing everything she possibly could so the perpetrators would get their punishment, but it did not always work out, and some of them found their way back onto the street, causing the same havoc and pain as before. Or worse.

And maybe the knowledge of the details of those atrocities was what made her worry about Dick twice as much.

1 minute to midnight

She closed her eyes and leaned forehead on the cold glass-panelled balcony door, warm breath making it fog instantly, clouding the world outside and for a moment, when she lift the lids all she could see was her own reflection. Dilated pupils, pale face and the imprint of the pillow on her cheek. Y/N smiled lightly at the other her.

And then she opened the door and stepped into the air, still bare foot and poorly clothed.

30 seconds to midnight

5, 4, 3, 2,1 ….

“Happy birthday, Dick.” She muttered into the night, hoping those words would find him safe wherever he may have been at this moment. “I love you….”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest, baby?” the voice was familiar but before her brain could catch up on the situation, the body acted out of instance and she almost tripped over her own legs. If it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapping around her and catching her, her romantic and nostalgic attitude would result in a forehead bump and possibly a twisted ankle.

“Di….I mean, Nightwing. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my favorite girl.”

“Favorite, huh?” she raised an eyebrow at him “How many more are there?”

“Just a few here, but in Gotham….” He joked but she hit his chest making him stop “Auch! Is that how you treat the birthday boy?”

“No.” she shook her head and leaned forward to kiss him without any more inhibitions. His teasing could not deter her tonight.

“Mhm.” He groaned and smirked into the kiss “trying to convince me to leave the others?”

“Shut up” she muttered and yanked him closer by the shoulders feeling the muscle tension slowly let go as he reached around, embracing her and caressing the small of her back, getting dangerously close to her tushy, before she slapped his cheek lightly, out of pure instinct, quickly realizing her mistake.

“Auch!”

“Stop whining. It wasn’t even that hard.”

“Kiss to make it better?”

“You are one very needy birthday boy, aren’t you?” she muttered planting her lips on his face, but before she reached the destination he turned his head around so their mouths connected again.

“Hi, baby….” He smiled and leaned his forehead on hers “why are you up? And why are you outside? It’s cold, you’re gonna be sick” his arms around her tightened in an attempt to keep her warm.

“I was hoping you would swing by.” She muttered into his chest. “And I wanted to be the first one to give you your wishes.”

“I think my greatest wish is already in my arms.”

“Tease….”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You are my present. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby boy. But.. does this mean you don’t want the gift I got for you?” she pouted “I bought it today.” She grabbed his hand and put it near the hem of the T-shirt, testing the waters, letting his fingers graze her soft, silky skin “it’s blue. You just need to make a wish and maybe, maybe it will come true. ” Y/N added, whispering in his ear.

“Baby…” he groaned “I need to go back on patrol….”

“Oh,…. I hope this won’t distract you…. Just imagining what is waiting for you here....in this oh, so cold and oh, so lonely, lonely night….”

“Oh, screw that!” he yelled, grabbing her sides and taking her straight into the apartment “it’s a quiet night either way. And it’s my birthday so I might as well take some time off.” The boy smiled predatory and threw his girl onto the bed.

Tonight he was going to have some different kind of workout.

#dc #dc imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction

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pinkrose787 · 18 days

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Amnesia! Branch AU Chapter 2

AO3: Link Part 1: Here

Summary: Branch wakes up in a world that he doesn't fully understand, and finds that everything has changed.

Chapter 2:

The hospital is so bright and loud. The fluorescent lighting that illuminates the ICU hurts his eyes. And these machines won’t stop beeping. Each beep is like a knife into his brain. A far cry from Branch’s dark and quiet bunker. He can feel the IV digging into his skin, shifting every time he so much as breathes.

But even with this sensory hell, all he can think about is Poppy. Dr. Moonbloom referred to her as queen, a title that Branch dreaded Poppy getting for years. And the way that she acted. Hugging him, holding his hand, being there by his side. It’s a way that Branch had dreamed of her acting for a long time. Did they start dating? No. That’s impossible. There’s no way Poppy would ever be with someone like him. Besides she likes Creek. Not him. Never him.

Then his mind wanders over to his brothers. Are they really beyond those white doors waiting for him? Have they really cared enough to reconnect with him? And what of Spruce? Poppy mentioned John Dory, Floyd, and Clay, but didn’t mention Spruce. Maybe he really died like he always assumed his brothers did. Damn. He hopes not. Even if he’s been angry at them for almost his entire life, he never wished for death on any of them.

Dr. Moonbloom checks up on him. “How have you been feeling?”

“Confused, mostly.” Branch says. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

She writes that down in her clipboard. “Well, that stands to reason. You’ve lost the last four years of your memory. Now, I would catch you up on what you have missed, but I have a feeling that Queen Poppy would prefer to do that herself.”

It’s so strange to her Poppy referred to as Queen Poppy. He guesses that it’s just something that he is going to have to get used to. But he still doesn’t fully understand why Poppy is so insistent on helping him. As much as he wants to spend all his time with Poppy, he isn’t sure if could handle it. He looks up at Dr. Moonbloom who stands there with her trademark indifferent expression. “When am I going to be able to go home?”

Dr. Moonbloom looks back down at her clipboard. “Well, given the injuries you sustained we want to keep you here for a few days for observation. After that, you’ll be able to go back to your bunker.”

His bunker! If he’s not there who’s going to maintain it! He’s never been away from his bunker for more than a few hours. Being here in the open, injured, and surrounded by strangers, makes him want to get up and hide in his bunker. But these damn IV lines in his arm won’t let him. “I’ll be here for a couple more days?” He asks. The thought of being in this overstimulating hospital ward for another few days makes him wish he’d have died out there.

“Yes and no. Given your stable condition you’ll be moved to your own personal hospital room at the request of Queen Poppy. Now, I have other patients to attend to. A nurse will be here to move you shortly.” Dr. Moonbloom leaves Branch lying alone in the hospital bed.

There it is again. Poppy is referred to as queen. It was something he knew would happen someday, since she’s King Peppy’s only child. But he never expected it to happen so soon. Does that mean King Peppy is dead? He hopes that Peppy simply stepped down. He’d hate for Poppy to have to feel the pain of losing someone close to her.

It isn’t long until Dr. Moonbloom’s words come true. A couple of nurses come and help Branch into a wheelchair. Apparently, they don’t trust him enough to walk. There’s something strange about one of the nurses helping. She looks just like Cooper except different. In fact, as they wheel him to the room where he’s staying, he notices a lot of different trolls. Some are like Cooper and the nurse, others are small and gold, a few are fish-like, some are half-horse, and there are multiple trolls that have more muted colors like him but have much sharper features. He wonders if he doesn’t have memory loss but was rather knocked into some sort of warped nonsense dimension.

The hospital room he was moved to is incredibly nice. It’s so spacious, even though Branch isn’t going to be moving around much. A nightstand next to the bed with a lamp on it. There’s a small couch and an armchair meant for visitors.

Normally, Branch would assume that he won’t have any, But with Poppy and his brothers, he might actually have someone come visit him. That’s such a foreign thought to him. Frankly, he isn’t sure he welcomes it. He’s gotten so used to going through everything alone that the mere thought of someone being there for him when he’s at his weakest makes him anxious.

What really catches his eye in the hotel room is the window. It’s large and lets sunlight stream into the room. And it has an amazing view of Troll Village. Looking through it he can see all the different pods hung up on the branches. There’s all sorts of trolls going about their daily lives. It’s a world that Branch feels like he can never truly be a part of.

It isn’t long before there’s a knock at his hospital door. The door opens to reveal Poppy standing in the doorway. She’s holding a tote that’s so heavy; it’s causing her to lean. “Hey Branch!” She says. Her voice is excited and perky as it always is. She’s smiling so wide. If it weren’t for her eyes Branch would assume that she was happy. They are red and puffy. The mascara and eyeliner around them is smudged.

“Have you been crying?” Branch asks. Never in the entire time of Branch knowing her has he ever seen her cry. She’s always been so happy and upbeat. The thought of her being sad enough to cry is unnerving.

“What? No. I’m fine,” Poppy says. Her smile falters a little.

“Okay…” Branch doesn’t believe her. But he doesn’t want to push the issue. He knows how much it sucks for people to try and get you to tell you what’s wrong when you do not want to. He glances down at the tote. “What’s with the bag?”

Poppy perks up again. “I brought scrapbooks of everything that’s happened!” She pulls the armchair to Branch’s bedside. It makes a low groan as it scrapes against the floor.

He looks at the tote again. It’s almost ripping at the seams from the weight of all the scrapbooks. “Looks like there’s a lot,” Branch remarks.

“There is!” Poppy sits down in the chair next to Branch. “We’ve done so much over the last four years.” She pulls out a couple of scrapbooks and shows them to Branch. “These are the three really big ones where our lives changed the most.” The scrapbooks are labeled “Befriending the Bergens”, “Troll Tribe Togetherness”, and “BroZone: Here we Bro-again”.

“Befriending the Bergens?” Branch repeats the title of the first scrapbook. He looks up at Poppy with a skeptical expression. “There’s no way we befriended the Bergens. Did you forget that they used to eat us every year?”

“No, I didn’t. Besides they all agreed to stop eating us two years ago! And ever since then we’ve all been friends!”

“There’s no way that I would ever be friends with a Bergen.” He crosses his arms.

“Well…” Poppy chuckles. “You did.” She opens up the third scrapbook. On the first page is Branch in a suit standing next to a Bergen. Poppy points to the picture. “That’s you and King Gristle at his wedding! You were his best man!”

Branch cannot look away from the image. There he is. Next to the Bergen king. Someone he swore would always be his enemy. “There is no way that’s real.”

“It is.” Poppy puts down the scrapbook. “I know that us befriending the Bergens is going to be hard for you to understand without your memories, because I know that what happened with your grandma deeply affected you.”

Branch’s blood runs cold. Poppy knows his most deeply held traumas. All the years and all the effort of hiding himself from her were undone in just four years. “I told you about my grandma?”

“Yeah, in a pretty dramatic way actually.” She grabs the first scrapbook. “I detailed it in here. If you read it, you’ll see that it happened in the past. Things have changed. You’ve changed.” Her voice is soft.

For a second, Branch doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how. His gaze goes to the wall across from him. A flurry of thoughts fly through his head. He’s felt more emotions in the couple of hours since waking up than he has in years. Was that good? Was that bad? He isn’t sure. What he does know is that he doesn’t like it.

Poppy gently takes Branch’s hand. “Hey, we don’t have to go through this all right now. That’s why I brought the scrapbooks. So, you can read through them at your own pace.” Branch looks up at Poppy. She has a soft smile on her face. “Though if you want, I can go through them with you. Fill you in on all the little details the scrapbooks miss.”

“I… I.. guess I do have some questions,” Branch says.

“Ask away!” Poppy says.

Branch takes a second to think. There’s a million questions buzzing about in his brain. There is one that keeps showing up in his mind. One that he’s been having trouble getting used to. “When did you become queen?” he asks.

“A couple of years ago. Right after we befriended the Bergens, my dad abdicated and gave the crown to me!” Poppy says. She opens up the first scrap book to an image of her and Branch holding hands and standing on top of a toadstool. “You were actually right there beside me at my coronation.”

Poppy smiles gently as she brushes the picture. “Actually, you’ve been by my side for pretty much my entire reign as queen,” she says. A lone tear falls down her face.

There’s a bit of pain in Branch’s heart. He’s happy that Poppy didn’t have to lose her dad. But she lost him. Or at least she lost the troll that he was before he lost his memory. It’s strange to the see the woman you love mourn you while you’re still alive “I wish I could remember it.” Branch says.

“I wish you could too.” Poppy wipes away the tear. “But we’ll work on getting those memories back!”

There’s that typical Poppy optimism that has pestered Branch for years. The optimism that made Branch fall for her in the first place. Though Branch doesn’t feel as optimistic about him getting his memories back. “Something else that’s been on my mind.”

“Yeah?” Poppy asks.

“What were we? Before I lost my memory, I mean.” Branch takes a deep breath. “Because it seems like we were more than friends.” Though Branch doesn’t really hold hope that she ever returned his feelings.

Poppy pauses at that question. Her eyes start to well up with tears. “We are… well…” She takes a deep breath in and blinks away the tears in her eyes. “We were dating.”

Branch’s heart almost stops at Poppy saying that. They were together. And he doesn’t remember a damn thing about it. This feels like another joke that the universe has played on him. “We were dating?” he repeats lightly. “How? And since when?”

Poppy picks up the “Troll Tribe Togetherness” scrapbook. She turns to the very end. On that page there’s Poppy, Branch, and a bunch of other trolls that Branch doesn’t know standing in a coliseum. The little Branch and Poppy scrapbook characters are holding hands. “It was right after Barb tried to steal all the strings. After I smashed her guitar and temporarily destroyed all music, we sang a song that brought music back to the world. And there on that stage is when you said, ‘I love you’ for the very first time and that’s when I said it back to you. After that we were always together.”

Branch is quiet. He wants to say something, but what? What could he possibly say to that? That sounds like such an amazing moment, like something out of Branch’s wildest dreams. And he doesn’t remember it.

Rage wells up inside him. He’s had so much stolen from him over his life. His parents, his brothers, his grandma. And now he’s had four years of memories stolen from him. Memories where he lived a happy life. A life that he thought would never be possible. He wants to rage against everything. He wants to tear everything apart. He wants to scream and scream and scream. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to say anything to hurt Poppy.

“Do you want to see my favorite scrapbook?” Poppy says.

This snaps Branch out of his own mind. He looks at her. She has a soft smile on her face, though her eyes are still misty. “Sure,” Branch says.

Poppy pulls out a brown scrapbook. It’s unlike all the other scrapbooks Branch has seen. The construction is shoddy. On the front there’s a poorly drawn image of Branch and Poppy inside a heart and written in abysmal handwriting is “Branch and Poppy’s Great Adventure”.

He stares at it for a second. “This is your favorite scrapbook? Why?” Branch asks.

“Because it’s the one you made for me,” Poppy says softly. She caresses the cover with a smile on her face.

“I made that for you?” Branch asks. Truthfully, he should have figured that out. He might know how to make traps that can catch anything and build a functional survival bunker, but crafts have never been his strong suit. It’s hard to focus on gluing paper together when you feel like any moment a Bergen is going to pick you up and eat you.

“Yeah, you did.” She hands the scrapbook to Branch. “I think maybe it’s best if you see what happened from your own perspective. Maybe that’ll wake up your memories!”

Branch opens the scrapbook. The construction of it is not any better on the inside. There’s so many little drawings of them, going on adventures, being with each other. The page that strikes Branch the most is near the beginning of the scrapbook. Him and Poppy are standing on top of a mushroom and holding hands. Written above them “You make me happy.”

Such as simple statement. But it feels like a stab in the heart. It’s a sentiment that he’s never expressed out loud, at least not that he can remember. Poppy makes him about as happy as he can be, which usually isn’t very much. But it seems like Poppy managed to break through every barrier he had set up over his life.

But without his memories, all those barriers are back-up. It feels like Poppy teleported behind them, and Branch doesn’t like that. As much as he loves her, as much as he wants to be close with her, having her be behind all his walls makes him feel panicked.

Branch looks over at Poppy. Her face has such a soft smile, one that Branch would hate to see go away. But they have to face reality. The one she’s smiling thinking about isn’t him. He looks away from her. “I know you want me to say that I remember everything now, but I don’t. Nothing in this scrapbook is familiar.”

For a millisecond, the smile on Poppy’s face fades. But she forces it back up. “Well, that’s okay! No one expects you to remember everything right away!” She takes Branch’s hand. “And while you get your memories back, your brothers and I will be here every step of the way.”

Oh, that’s right. He’d been so distracted by his forgotten past with Poppy; he forgot that his brother’s came back. “I can’t believe it. I thought I’d never see any of my brothers again.” Branch looks at Poppy. “It’s not some prank right? They’re really here?”

Pranks have been pulled on him in the past. A lot of them were cruel and meant to stir up his paranoia about the Bergens returning. But Poppy never pulled them on him. Usually, she would get on the case of whoever was pranking Branch. “It’s not a prank. They are really back. If you want to, you can see them. They’re actually in the waiting room right now.” Poppy says.

Truthfully, he still doesn’t know if he wants to see his brothers again. It seems like past him did. But from what he’s seen past him had a whole better life. All the anger at his brothers is still so fresh. He glances down away from Poppy. “I don’t want to see them.” His voice is angrier than he expected it to be.

“That’s alright. You can see them when you’re ready.” Poppy says. She gently smiles at him. “Meanwhile, I’ll be here for you.”

Branch looks at her. Even though she’s smiling, he can tell that she’s struggling to keep up this façade. “Is anyone going to be there for you?”

Immediately after asking Branch feels a little dumb. Of course, there are going to be people there for her. She’s the most beloved troll in all of Troll Village. If she so much as sneezes, the entire village loses their minds.

Poppy puts her hand on Branch’s. “Don’t worry about me. Viva hasn’t really left my side, since you were hospitalized.”

“Who’s Viva?” Branch asks.

“Oh? Yeah!” Poppy perks up. “I forgot to tell you! She’s my long-lost big sister!”

“Wow.” Branch really cannot think of anything to say to that. “You have an older sister?”

“Yeah, I know. And my dad never mentioned her...” Poppy starts to go into a speedy talk about her sister. Branch is barely catching any of it. He’s hearing Clay’s name mentioned a couple times. But he isn’t sure in what context it’s being mentioned.

A sharp pain shoots through Branch’s head. “Augh!” he exclaims.

Poppy stops mid-sentence. “Oh my goodness? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Branch presses his hand against his head. “My head just hurts.” It could solely be from his head injury, but the insane amount of information and emotions that he’s had to process in the last hour definitely have not helped.

“I should probably let you rest.” She gets up to leave, but leaves the tote bag filled with scrapbooks behind. Before she turns the door handle, she looks back towards Branch and smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow!”

With that statement, she leaves Branch alone in the hospital room. While Branch is sad to see Poppy go, he’s also relieved. Now, he can sit and process every thing without worrying if what he says is going to hurt Poppy.

____

Closing the door, Poppy feels a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She knows that she should have expected Branch to figure some things out. Nothing prepared her for the conversation about what the two of them were. Reminiscing on her and Branch’s relationship with Branch was one of the most painful things she’s ever experienced.

Right now, she just wants to go home and collapse. Well, what she really wants to do is collapse in Branch’s arms, tell him all about the day she’s had, and let her exhaustion melt away. But that’s not possible. She needs to be strong for Branch. Just as long as it takes for him to get back to how he used to be. Hopefully, that won’t be too long.

Helping Branch catch up isn’t the only tough job Poppy has to do. Now, she has to be the one to tell Branch’s brothers that he doesn’t want to see them. It’ll break their hearts, but it needs to be done.

Poppy takes a deep breathe to compose herself, and heads towards the waiting room.

#Branch #Poppy #Trolls #Branch Trolls #Poppy Trolls #Broppy #Groppy #Amnesia! Branch AU

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brighter-by-the-daly · 1 year

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Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Two: Dashed Hopes

AN: Shoutout to @yourwosogirly and @ac3may for helping me through the writers block this chapter gave me, ly 🧡

Turning up at camp and shuffling towards the building with your bags you couldn’t help but recognise the familiar blonde figure on the steps out front with her new beau. Too far across the car park to turn back without looking suspicious you had to keep walking, hoping to anything godly that neither would notice you. “Oh my god! (Y/n) is that you?” screeched the familiar voice of your ex best friend. Fuck. Time to put that Drama GCSE to good use! “Oh my god! Becky? I haven’t seen you in years!” you squealed in fake excitement as you pulled her in for a hug. “Wait.. you know each other?” Rachel seemed surprised yet extremely worried about the altercation that was happening in front of her. “Yeah we used to be besties, what happened to that?” Becky twirled her hair around her fingers as she pretended to forget why you fell out years ago. “You shagged our best mate’s boyfriend” you said bluntly, the fake smile wiped away and resting bitch face firmly back in her place. “And now you’re shagging my ex! Funny how things change aih.. unlike your clothes” tugging at the shirt hanging off of the brunette’s slim body. “Rach, you took my favourite shirt? I’ve been looking for this for weeks!” You knew exactly what you were doing but why the hell is she wearing your shirt? You wanted to rip it off her along with the extensions glued to her head. Unfortunately you have a reputation to uphold now and had to deal with things amicably, no matter how much you wanna hit her. “Wait, this is.. yours?!” Becky exclaimed disgusted at how she was wearing an ex’s shirt that she thought was her girlfriend’s. “Yeah.. Rach used to love me in this, didn’t you babe?” smiling sweetly and stroking Rachel’s arm, determined to wind them up as much as possible before you have to act professional until the end of August. Rachel visibly gulped as she scratched the back of her head which was her tell for when she was feeling awkward. “It’s sooo nice to see you both again, byeee!” Lies. Big fat lies. The extremely heavy sarcastic sweetness that rolled out of your mouth was undeniably two faced. You thought you’d be more hurt seeing them together but you kept your horoscope this morning at the forefront of your mind - you’ll be tested today but remember you’re better than them - couldn’t have been more true if it tried!

Strutting into the welcome meeting feeling like all the cards were in your hand, you were pleased to see some of your old friends again. There was a few you played with for England when you were younger and made your way over to sit with Georgia and Keira. Your overnight plane from America had only landed a few days ago and the jet lag was starting to catch up on you now - hoping Sarina’s talk would be quick so you could get some sleep. Your dreams of a few hours shut eye were quickly shattered, Sarina clearly hadn’t got the memo and bunked you up with none other than your ex. For fuck sake Sarina! Asking to have a quiet word with her after everyone left she said that if you found someone to swap with you could but was stern when she added “if you can’t work with her then we’re going to have to discuss your position on the team”. Brilliant. Get along with your run away bride or get kicked from the team, what an ultimatum. You’d been fighting to be recognised from over the pond for years, Rachel was gonna get a call up no matter where in the world she was but not you. You’d climbed the England ranks since 15 but knew moving to America would put your national career on the line. You were convinced you’d have made the senior team a lot sooner if you had stayed in the WSL.

Dragging your bags up to your room you stood with your hand on the door knob for some time before gathering up the courage to enter. You didn’t need to be nervous as the bags dumped on the bed told you Rachel had gone elsewhere. The luggage reminded you of how she would never unpack from travelling and it drove you insane. Busy sorting out your things you didn’t hear your ex enter until you came out of the bathroom. “Hey” she mumbled awkwardly as you both clocked each other. Moving your headphones to sit around your neck so you didn’t seem rude, “hi” you replied in a way that was unsure about how this was going to work. “I took this bed as I know you don’t like being next to the door but I can move if that’s changed” she said picking at her fingernails. You replied that you’re fine where you are and started listening to your music again while continuing to unpack. That was until your headphones died and threw them onto the bed disgruntled at how you’ve now got to listen to your ex breath the same air as you. Spending what felt like forever in silence until Rachel made the first move “I’ll get your shirt back to you” her voice somewhat perky like she was trying. There’s nothing you would want more, the way it was slightly faded and shrunk a little in the wash made it show your belly button. It was your old uni top and you loved how it reminded you of simpler times but your voice didn’t say that. “No it’s okay, it looks good on her” you shrugged, it wasn’t a lie per se but it wasn’t the whole truth - it deffo looks better on you and Rachel seemed to think so as well. “It looked good on you too” she said quietly looking over at you. Well you didn’t expect to hear that today! “Yeah it did, thats why it was my favourite” you hammered back with the same stiff eye contact she was giving you. “That’s why I kept it” she shrugged, “what to give to your next fiancée?”. Oops, that was meant to come out jokey but it deffo came out defensive and argumentative. “No, she wasn’t meant to find it” throwing her legs over the side of her bed and putting her face in her hands. “She tidied the house while I was out one day and found it, I couldn’t tell her it was yours. It still smelt of you and when I was sad I’d hold it. She washed it and put it on, I was so mad but I didn’t really have the right to be angry with her.” Rachel stood up from the bed “(y/n) I hate what I did to you, I just missed England so bad after the Euros, I needed to be with my family” she tried to win you over, to be honest the first part of her speech was quite cute but the last part hit a nerve. “I was your family too Rach, we were getting married! Do you know how humiliating that was for me? Calling all the suppliers, all of the guests, telling my family that my future wife had ran away? Just left me in a strange country you convinced me to move to!” your arms were flailing and your voice was raising. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to turn out this way!” she pleaded but you had seen red. “Then what the fuck did you mean to happen? You didn’t talk to me, you just left! You kissed me and said you loved me, waited til I fell asleep then fucked off on the first plane out of Texas!” you yelled. “I’m not proud of my actions” she said approaching you from across the floor “(y/n) let me explain, please sit down” grabbing your hand and trying to guide you towards the bed but you were determined not to get pulled into her sob story and snatched your arm away. “Your time for explaining was the minute you thought about leaving, now get the fuck out my face!” Pushing past her to reach the door, maybe you should have taken the bed closer to it for a quicker escape.

Bursting into Millie and Mary’s room where some of the others had gathered, “eurgh!” you bellowed making your entrance known “someone swap with me! I can’t stay in that room with her!” pleading with your teammates. “(Y/n), you’re gonna have to get along with her for the sake of the team” Mary tried to reason with you. “I could do that a lot better by not bunking with her” begging the girls to swap rooms with you but they were all settled and didn’t want to move their stuff again. “Millie please, you’re her best friend why wouldn’t you wanna bunk with her? I’ll do your laundry until we leave” trying to bribe your ex’s best friend. “I think it’ll be good for you two to talk things over” she said taking you in for a hug. You sighed feeling defeated, “what’s there to talk about? She set up a transfer without telling me and waited until she could disappear in the night! I’d rather sleep on the pitch!” throwing yourself back onto her bed in frustration. “That’s not what she said went down” Millie said confused. “Well that’s exactly what happened!” you projected around the room. “She said you broke up with her after she moved?” Mary said quizzically. How did she think the truth wouldn’t come out? Why did she tell everyone I broke up with her? “That’s absolute bollocks, you believed that? You know I loved her more than anything! I would have come home too, I wouldn’t have moved there in the first place if it wasn’t for her!” curling yourself up into a ball as the tears started to run again. “Okay, I’ll swap alright but you still need to try and get on with her.” Millie turned empathetic and stroked your back giving you comfort.

Knocking on the door Rachel was surprised to see Millie standing there with her bags. “Why did you tell us (y/n) broke up with you?” pushing past her to get inside the room. Rachel couldn’t believe you’d got someone to swap with you and that the truth was out, rolling her eyes acting like you were the one being childish. “Can you blame her for swapping?” Millie’s arms folded, sticking up for injustice came easy to her. “It was just simpler, I didn’t think she’d be here” Rachel was pacing the floor trying desperately to figure out a way to wriggle out of the mess she had made. “You didn’t think she’d get called up so you thought you’d never have to see her again? She’s an amazing player Rach, you thought you could leave your old life behind and never get found out! I’m your best friend, why did you lie to me?” Millie’s voice was raised, she was protective of the first time campers especially ones that had been wronged by someone she holds so close. “Because I knew you’d hate me!” Rachel’s eyes started to fill up with tears as she felt interrogated. “I wouldn’t hate you Rach, I’m disappointed though! You just left in the middle of the night? She was gonna be your wife!” Millie was getting more and more irate with every word that was coming out of her best friend’s mouth. “I know! I’m sorry!” Rachel yelled across the room at her. “And who the fuck is this new bird? You do know Sarina told her she’s got to get on with you to stay on the team right? You’ve put her whole career in jeopardy and she’s a bigger person than I would be cause I would have knocked you out by now!”

“Look, I don’t need both of you yelling at me okay. I know what I did was shitty but I have my reasons, no one will let me explain!” she pleaded to have her side heard. As much as Millie didn’t want to give Rachel the time of day, she was inquisitive of why she did what she did. The defender threw herself onto the bed and patted the mattress beside her for Rach to scooch in. No matter how much she was mad at her right now, she knew she must have had a good reason.

Part Three

#rachel daly #rachel daly x reader #woso masterlist #lionessss x reader #millie bright #woso x reader #lionesses #lionesses england #england x reader #england women #aston villa wfc #houston dash #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso community #georgia stanway #kiera walsh #mary earps

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waltwhitmansbeard · 9 months

Text

Perc'ahlia Week Day 1: Dawn/Treasure

happy first day of @percahliaweek! you will also find all of my fics for this week on ao3!

The youngest de Rolo child screams her way into the world right at dawn, but she herself is the color of sunset. Of blood. Of a heart, beating and alive. The birthing suite is quiet, except for the miserable squalls of the newborn. The midwife, the same one who ushered in all of the child's elder siblings, holds her, eyes wide, unsure of where is the least improper place to be staring right now.

Pike is the one to break the spell. "Well, get her cleaned up!" The bite in her tone jolts the midwife into action. She scuttles to the basin of water that Keyleth has been keeping warm. While they clean the baby of the detritus of her birth, Pike lays her hands on Vex's arm. A golden light flickers across Vex's sweat-slick skin, and the exquisite aches of childbirth all but disappear.

Leaving Vex with little to think about but her tiefling daughter.

She looks first to Pike, a holy woman, a friend, for wisdom, for salvation, but Pike can offer nothing but a gentle pat on the arm and an encouraging smile. Keyleth is the one who brings the baby over, all clean and swaddled in a lavender blanket that clashes horribly, and when Vex looks to her, she finds scarcely-concealed panic.

"She's beautiful," Keyleth murmurs, nestling the baby into Vex's arms, which reach up automatically, without conscious thought. She wonders if Keyleth's lying. She was never very good at it—but then, she's been in politics for a while now. Maybe she's learned a thing or two.

It isn't until the baby's round cheek presses into Vex's chest, until the tiny, grasping fingers latch onto the end of her fraying braid, until her heart claws its way to lodge in her throat, that she looks up at Percy. How many years has she known this man, how many ways has she pulled back his layers to see into the heart of him—shouldn't she be able to see the tears in his eyes and know if they are tears of joy, of revulsion, of love, of fear? For years they've been able to read each other's thoughts with nothing more than a glance; are they even in the same room?

His hand is clenched white-knuckled around the poster of the bed, as if it is the only thing keeping him upright. (Maybe it is.) His eyes are locked on the baby, on the jerky movements of her arms, so new, so unsure. Vex watches him watch her, and she doesn't know what to say.

"Why don't we..." Keyleth trails off, nervous and hesitant, but Pike finishes the thought with, "...let you have some time?" The two of them usher the baffled midwife out, and then they are alone.

The baby gurgles. Vex tears her eyes away from Percy to see her tug with that mysterious baby strength on the end of the braid. She really is beautiful, with a dusting of fine dark hair and a button nose.

"I didn't cheat on you."

The words are out before Vex can think about them. They're answered with a loud, shaky exhale and a croaked, "Fucking hell, Vex'ahlia."

Her eyes snap to his. "I didn't."

He's looking at her like she herself just sprouted horns. "Are you operating under the assumption that I believe you did?"

Oh. His face is entirely unreadable, the phases of some inner turmoil happening too quickly for her mind, exhausted after a long night of labor, to make sense of. "I...how do you explain..."

"Vex..." He runs a tired hand over his face, and for the first time, Vex sees the age that Percy tries to hide from her. She's reminded of the fact that while he certainly did not expel an entire person from his body today, he did, at the very least, stay awake with her through the agonies of the night, hold her hand and wipe the sweat from the brow as her body contorted in its familiar dance to bring another de Rolo into this castle. He perches on the edge of the bed facing her, brings his long, delicate fingers up to toy with the minuscule feet hidden beneath the swaddle. "Vex, I did this."

She frowns. "I don't think that's how this works, darling."

He smiles. "It is when you make a deal with a devil."

All of the breath leaves her. She hasn't thought about that in ages, the contract that sits beneath the castle in a vault, never to be seen again. All these years, it was so easy to believe that they'd gotten off scot-free, that the follies of their youth had exacted all of the tolls to be exacted.

Yet here she is, holding her baby girl, bright red as a devil. She trails her fingers over her tiny head, and she can feel them, twin bumps where someday, horns will grow.

In these earliest moments of day, when the first golden rays promise all of the potential of what is to come, there is a choice to be made. Vex knows that whatever is said next will forever change the future of this girl, this marriage, this family, this city. There is a choice to be made, and for her, it is no choice at all.

"She's perfect."

She juts her chin out, looks to her husband in challenge. She dares him to say something, to disagree with her assessment of their child. He doesn't, of course, because Vex knows he doesn't have it in him to reject anything they've made together. His fingertips, so wonderful at handling the tiniest, most delicate things with care, brush along their baby girl's cheek, and she lets out a small cry. He grins a grin as bright as the Dawnfather's sun. "Our greatest treasure. Brighter than any jewel in our coffers."

"And anyone who suggests otherwise will face our wrath."

"Swift and exacting."

"We'll need to get out ahead of the rumors."

"I'll bet you all the gold in the castle that Keyleth has already threatened the midwife within an inch of her life."

"Only if Pike hasn't done it first."

"We have the best of friends."

"Mm, we really do." She sighs. "Do you think the other children will..."

Percy slides over so they're sitting shoulder to shoulder, both gazing at the baby in her arms. "Tease her?" Vex nods. "Well, they are your children..." He's not quick enough to evade the pinch to his ear. Laughing, he says, "I think that we are far from perfect parents, but that we've done our best to raise our children to be good, kind, empathetic people, with a near-pathological instinct to protect their own. So I'm not worried, no."

She tips her head onto his shoulder. It is dawn, but she is so very tired. "She really is a treasure, Percy."

A kiss as familiar as her own name is pressed into the crown of her head. "As are you. The greatest prize a de Rolo ever claimed."

She wrinkles her nose. "Okay, first of all, you didn't claim me—"

And he shuts her up with a kiss, and she lets him, because a new day is dawning for the de Rolo family, because she is holding their child, because she loves him, because she is happy, she is happy, she is happy.

#percahliaweek #percahliaweek23 #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #my fic #perc'ahlia week

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frick6101719 · 6 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing goood)) Please do tell, are you going to continue writing the sequel to The Last Songbird? I'm so worried cos SaB now cancelled((

HI ANON

Sorry for taking so long to say so, but yes! I am hoping/planning to write a sequel to TLS. My idea right now is to cover some key moments from the actual duology and explore how they would change in this AU, but I haven't quite landed on how to do that yet. I have written part of one important moment though, and since I've made you wait so long I think I owe you a snippet.

~~~

He could see Inej’s little slippered foot dangling over the edge of the crate. She was still, lying on her belly. He could still hear the Blacktip dying at his feet, but it was Kaz who felt like he was choking on his own blood. Climb, you fucking idiot. He ordered his body like he would order any other Dreg, and because he was Dirtyhands, their lieutenant, the brain and the spine of their operation, his body obeyed. He had to climb from another side of the pyramid, wasting precious time. He was not as agile as she, and there were so many here on the docks, waiting for them, he couldn’t waste a second when she could be—

He turned the corner, saw her lying there frightfully still. He grabbed her ankle, and she stirred faintly at his touch. While a shudder of revulsion passed through him he didn’t let that stop him as he leaned over her body, taking her by her shoulder, his other hand on her hip. He hadn’t touched her in so long—she was so small. He tried to be gentle, but he was not a gentle man, and she groaned in pain as he rolled her over.

The knife was free of the sheath hidden in her sleeve before she was even fully turned, and its wickedly sharp point settled beneath her breast with practised precision. Kaz almost dropped her.

“May the Saints receive me,” she whispered.

“No!” He grabbed her wrist, felt her pull against it, but his grip was iron. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even hold the knife, which fell from her grip with a clatter.

He struggled to find his voice. “Not just yet, Inej,” he said. His grip didn’t loosen.

There was no way to be gentle about it, but he slipped the knife back in its sheath and scooped her up, pushing the sound of her pained moans somewhere deep in his mind where he couldn’t touch it, where it wouldn’t drive him insane until he needed it to. I got Brekker’s Wraith.

He jumped down, and though he expected it, the sharp explosion of pain in his leg was staggering. For several moments his world flashed hot and white. He squeezed Inej closer to his chest—her body was limp, and though she didn't weigh much she felt oddly heavy. Perhaps he forgot gravity acted on her the same as everyone else, because he’d seen her move like she weighed nothing, and now she was here, almost dead in his arms—

Not dead, he thought, gritting his teeth. He began to run, each step a fresh burst of agony through his bad leg, but he ignored it. His cane lay tucked in his arm, useless, digging into Inej’s back between her shoulder blades. His Wraith. She’s not dead.

She groaned, head lolling with the rough, unevenness of his gait. “Did we win?”

He inhaled sharply. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He didn’t want her to ask about winning, or what happened, or how his plan went to hell and left her bleeding, clinging desperately to life. Not for the first time, a dark, gleeful voice—Jordie’s voice—reminded him.

I’m here, he thought instead, but he wasn’t willing to look down at her.

“I don’t want to die, Kaz.”

Her voice was small and quiet, and no knife could be more precise carving through his insides and piercing his heart. He swore he’d protect her. He was the worst sort of liar. “I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you,” he said. He knew it would upset her, and he hated himself for it, but she needed a fire in her to pull through this, and anger was the kind he was most adept at stoking.

He waited for her retort, for an indignant sniff, a righteous proverb—anything—but she remained quiet. “Keep talking Wraith,” he demanded, his voice wavering. “Don’t slip away from me.” Not now. He always knew when she eventually left him it would be his fault, but if he got her killed…

Her head lolled against his chest, and she gave another soft groan. “But it’s… what I do best.” Her eyes were shut.

He squeezed her tighter again, not caring if it made it harder for her to breathe. He hadn’t been this close to her since he became Dirtyhands, and even through the pain and the panic and the blinding rage, he felt the edges of nausea. He clutched her tighter anyway. She wasn’t going to die in his arms. She couldn’t. “Just… just make it to the schooner,” he said. His words sounded desperate even to his own ears. It had been a long time since he held her—it had been longer since he begged for anything. “Open your damn eyes, Inej.”

~~~

I just realised this is the second snippet I've posted; the first is here.

#RIP TO SHADOW AND BONE #we lost a real one #I'm still sad #but bless this fandom #you are so much fun #Kanej #Six of Crows #a fic... of mine???

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strawberry-valentines · 2 years

Text

-Vibes of dating the V3 boys-

AN: Hello stranger! Make sure to stay hydrated and eat something if you haven't <3

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Rantaro:

☆ Late nights spent on the school roof talking about the places you want to go and the things you want to see in your lifetime, him watching the way your face just lights up everytime you get excited, his heart internally melting and a slight grin spreading across his face.

☆ Lighthearted, half-joking debates on conspiracies while you concoct various theories and explanations for them, the two of you getting way too swept up into it before collapsing on the ground laughing.

☆ Knowing he can be vulnerable around you and knowing that...He feels like he knows himself better when your around. What his purpose might be in life.

☆ Hikes through the woods side by side equipt with only bitter coffee and chocolate chip trail mix, as you pick up cool rocks and leaves you find along the sides of the trail.

☆ Picking leaves out of each others hair after a long day out and curling into each others arms as he tells you about his most thrilling ventures, promising that from now on...you'll go on all of them with him.

Song: Devil Town, Cavetown ♡

Shuichi:

☆ True crime and way too many blankets to be socially acceptable. Warm sweaters and hot chocolate with whipped cream. Being so close to each other that you are practically chest to chest each others heartbeats turning to one.

☆ Psychoanalyzing the smallest things together and picking them apart as you read or watch movies....Being each others rock and allowing each other to become stronger and more confident around each other and everyone else.

☆ Being each others biggest hypeman in a quiet sort of way...Its Just knowing that if you ever fall down Shuichi will be there to catch you and help you get back on your feet.

☆ Being with Shuichi is being able to slowly see him be comfortable sharing things he's never shared with anyone...His past, his interests, hell his favorite music.

☆He knows you won't judge him. He doesn't feel special with you...quite the opposite. You make him feel normal and happy and that is literally all he needs to be stable.

☆Just...Lying down side by side under a tree and seeing the sunlight stream from between the leaves, warming your face, his golden eyes light and squinted with joy.

Song: Watercolor Eyes, Lana Del Ray

Ryoma:

☆ Waking up before everyone else and grabbing coffee in the library together, aimlessly discussing things that can't be changed and things that haven't happened yet but might someday.

☆ Watching the sun slowly rise over the horizon and knowing that you are here today, and you are alive and that you have each other.

☆ Watching him drop the tough guy act instantly as soon as he sees a cat and seeing how happy he is, knowing that there is so much goodness inside him that he has yet to show the rest of the world.

☆ Holding his hand in yours subtly throughout the days, him shooting you a knowing glance and a calm smile, almost as if he's saying that this is fine and he trusts you more than anyone else here.

☆ Sitting in the rain together at a bus terminal, him just resting his head on your shoulder as you both enjoy the ambience.

Song: Sleep Awake, Mother Mother

Gonta:

☆ Purity and puppy love.

☆ Sitting in his lab over tea as Gonta excitedly explains to you how each of his friends function in the wild and how much they mean to him He even eventually tells you about his time growing up in the forest and its just so sweet to see how he lights up at every question you ask him.

☆ Noticing how gentle he is with every single thing around him including you, and how he constantly checks in to make sure he doesn't breach your boundaries.

☆ Going on little dates to butterfly observatories or even just to the woods outside of the city, feeling the grass sway under your feet amid the bright sunlight. Picnics, with little tins full of fruit and sweets (He wrote down your favorites in advance to suprise you ;)

☆ Him carrying you to your dorm on your back if you get too tired, and just tucking you in because gentleman don't let there partners get colds.

☆ ...Being with Gonta is like a spring love feeling? To sum up? Childish and giddy and just joy. Pure joy.

Song: Strawberry Blonde: Mitski

Kaito:

☆ Travelling 3 miles out of the city, snacks and blankets in tow, to a empty hill just to watch a meteor shower without the city haze ruining the view.

☆ Him pointing out every star and constellation in the sky and telling you their meaning, and how someday, somehow he is going to overcome the vast nothing that is space and how he'll be darned if you aren't right by his side when he does it. You'll be there right? Waiting for him at the site once he gets down out of that rocket, for him to lift you into his arms and twirl you around and scream to the world that Kaito Momota did it all thanks to Y/N believing in him.

☆ Warm hands and cold weather. Wearing his jacket even though the poor dude is freezing just because he doesn't want you, his beloved S/O to fall ill.

☆ Half joking, half serious retellings of your greatest accomplishments, both of you subconsciously trying to out do the other while everyone else grumbles around you.

☆ Trips on the city bus or the train to wherever the hell the wind takes you just to have fun, just to have the thrill of not knowing where your going next but feeling grounded because...your boyfriends there and his spontaneity is surprisingly grounding.

☆ Knowing each other on a friend level too and just...getting each other.

☆Having his arm around you when your nervous and just knowing that he's always going to be right here to make sure you never EVER give up.

Song: Apocalypse: Cigarrettes After Sex

Korekiyo:

☆ Library dates and thriftstores...Travelling to abandoned buildings together for the aesthetic, and the peace of being alone with something taken back by nature, you two speculating the entire time of what this might of been at a point. Who lived here? Who might have died here? What did this mean to them...?

☆ Getting to see the more raw and vulnerable side of Kiyo...The parts that weren't stripped away from him growing up. Listening to him happily ramble for hours about his interests and love for anthropology, just the way he talks too fast sometimes and gets this starry eyed look whenever you let him get started. How he tends to lean over the table towards you. Him staring at you like..your the only one who would get it, because to him you are the smartest most accommodating person he knows, and...God he wants to share all his knowledge with you and pick your brain some.

☆ Him trusting you enough to let you see under his mask one night after you both finish talking, hesitantly pulling it down expecting you to recoil in disgust and hate, but you only pulling him into your arms and holding him a moment tracing it with your fingers.

☆ Going off of that topic...Him finally trusting someone enough to let them help change the many bandages that coat his arms and hands because he knows...you won't judge him.

☆ Him taking you on his fieldwork trips with you and buying you little gifts and doting on you the entire time. One day its a poppy picked from the side of the road, the next a handcrafted figurine...You never know with him.

☆ Autumn time...And listening to funky playlists filled with mixes of classical music and alternative scavenged from radio stations he likes, as you both walk holding your slightly overpriced coffees, the leaves crunching under your feet.

☆ Holding his hand in yours and feeling it shake then loosen and noticing that under the mask he is smiling softly.

Song: WasteLand Baby: Hozier

Kokichi:

☆ Elaborate pranks and late nights spent planning your attack on the world- your plans to force Shuichi and the others to loosen up and throw a party or do something interesting because its sooo goddamn boring in this school- well except for you his beloved S/O.

☆ Carnivals and balloon fights and sporadic dates to the weirdest places. Maybe a beach date one day- the next you are sitting parkour style on someone else's fire escape commenting on graffiti and watching the sun go down.

☆ Being the only person he let's see the softer side of him- the quieter toned down Kokichi.

☆ Him constantly dragging you out to dice meetings and taking your advice into consideration- hell if you wanted to he would let you join their heists- you've got the guts! You're dating him!

☆ Him finding little ways to express him emotions (besides clinging to you he isn't really...good with words.) You might find little doodles of you two slid onto your desk, or some sweets.

☆He will never leave you behind. And if someone fucks with you? They are DEAD.

☆Snowball fights in the winter time, and days spent in the school casino gambling alongside all your classmates...For a guy universally distrusted he sure brings the class together.

Video Games: Lana Del Ray

K1B0 (Kiibo♡):

☆ Very traditional and cheesy-- to the point of wholesomeness. Red roses and chocolates and...*gasp* how lewd...Handholding.

☆ He tries so hard to understand human emotions...Therefore he will do everything in his power to make you feel cherished and loved. He dotes in his own awkward way...Checking on your day and helping you with any inconvenience.

☆ Holding onto you in a public place unconsciously to help him feel safer...Interlocked pinkies or hands.

☆ Dates to quiet places like the back of the school among the flowers and weeds and just talking about life. Him considering you one of the only people he can trust to not discriminate against him...Considering you a best friend on top of a lover.

☆ The way he looks at you with pure adoration...You just KNOW he cares about you.

Nothing: Bruno Major

-----------------------------------

A/N: Thank you for reading!! Please take care ♡

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vacantgodling · 10 months

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Eve's weird question timee: How do your ocs kiss? Is it tender, hungry, loving, or what ever you think it is?

hello hello! thank you for the ask and an excuse to talk about one of my favorite things KISSING!! i think i may do this for a couple of oc couples just bc maaaaan i love writing kisses.

AMON AND HYA (paramour)

these two actually don't kiss all that often; due to the nature of their relationship and hya having the biggest stick on PLANET EARTH up his ass, things that would be considered par for the course intimacy wise he just kind of shoves off. i mean hell, he doesn't say amon's Actual Name until nearly the end of the book.

when they kiss, its hungry and unrestrained. the sexual tension? through the fucking roof. their kisses are more about channeling that inner desire to claim (and to be claimed in amon's case COUGH)

have an excerpt of a kiss from the role swap au:

Hya reached across the worlds of a table between them, grasping Amon by his tie. He dragged him forward, all strength and no balk, until Amon felt hot breath skating like ice shards across his lips. “Would you say that’s the spell you’re under?” He whispered. Hya answered him with a bite to his lower lip and a commanding sweep of tongue that made Amon’s knees nearly buckle. He righted himself and surged back, fisting rough hands into Hya’s suit and dragging him too, till they were both nearly hanging off of it, having some ravenous conversation in the privacy of their tucked away table. When Hya pushed him back Amon’s head was spinning.

DAGMAR AND LILLIABET (celestial weddings)

i haven't talked about celestial weddings much but my god i'm not normal about any of these relationships; dag and lillia especially. their kisses are sweet and caring, full of love and longing and childlike wonder; they are childhood friends and each other's first loves and destied to be married even if dag wasn't going to take a stab at becoming the celestial ruler. they make me so UNBEARABLY soft

“You could start with a kiss.” Lilliabet’s arms tugged him closer until their lips brushed against one another’s. “I have been longing to kiss you for ages, Dag.” “Isn’t it bad luck to kiss before a wedding day?” He quipped, but he closed his eyes and drew closer, pressing their lips together softly, but soundly. When Dagmar pulled back, Lilliabet took a moment to let their eyes flutter open, gazing up at him as though they were caught in a dream. Overhead a comet crossed the dark sky, but they were both too enraptured with the quiet intimacy of this moment to pay it much mind.

PERI AND DANDY (peri & dandy)

these two are (literally) two halves of the same soul (right and left brain to be exact). whenever they kiss it's like coming home, its like everything that was off in the universe has realigned. its hungry and its passionate, but its also filled with desperation to be safe, to never be parted again.

He squeezed Dandy again. “Missed it.” He mumbled. Dandy looked him back in the eyes. “I missed you.” And finally the ritual was complete; Dandy, ever eager, crashed his lips against his. It was never elegant when they reunited; there was never any finesse. Dandy always kissed him like a man drowned and even Peri would admit to his own impatience.

GRAVES AND DOVE (the graves we dug)

oh these idiots. these absolutely toxic and struggling bafoons.

their kisses hurt and they're bittersweet. they're reminders of what they used to have before dove "died" and how they can never regain what they lost even if they so desperately want it back. its like a nice memory before the gut punch that all of this is wrong; the swill of bitter coffee underneath whipped cream, etc etc.

He straddled Graves’s lap, tracing that gloved hand down until it reached the first button of his shirt. Before he could pop it, Graves’s hand covered his own, surprisingly gently. “I know you’re lying.” He didn’t mean for his voice to come out like that, this… soft amid the tension. It did something to Dove, he could tell. The angry lines on his soft face smoothed, until that cherry lipped smile was the only thing left tugging at Graves’s heartstrings and then he was tasting it. Dove pulled back, and as with everything, Graves let him do what he wanted. He popped the first button. “Let me pretend.” Dove sighed. “That you’re not lying?” Graves found his hands already inching to that familiar seat on Dove’s waist. “That I want what you want.” Another button popped. “Just for a little while.”

N AND BEAU (dead rites)

its the type of "i shouldn't want this as much as i do" type of kiss. it feels forbidden (and technically is to a certain extent; vampires who sleep with or have relationships with humans in this world can face jail time for up to 15 years yikes) but there's this magnetism about bibi that n just finds himself helpless to resist. he does his best, though bibi doesn't make it quite easy. he's quite obsessed with n to put it mildly.

Before N could even process anything else, Beau’s lips were claiming his in a desperate kiss. His tongue pushed its way past his rosy red lips and plunged into his mouth, harsh and claiming and N couldn’t stop his head from spinning even if he tried. There was hardly a panic around them; in the back of his mind, N swore all he heard was a door opening, then shutting, but all he could focus on was Beau. N wound his hands tighter into the vampire’s hair, tugging his head to the side to kiss him deeper and Beau groaned into it, rocking his hips instinctively against the barely there fabric of N’s dress. One of his heels was lost in the sauce— he felt it drop to the floor when he hooked his legs tighter around Beau’s waist but he couldn’t bring himself to fully care. All that mattered was Beau’s lips on his, after a month of wanting him, craving him, this is exactly what he needed.

CLEAR AND FORTE (the chronicles of lathsbury)

technically this is all epilogue/mid section between books 1 and 2, however, they're so TENDER with each other it hurts so good. its the kind of tooth rotting fluff that makes you squeal and hide your face in your hands. its all the butterflies of a first crush and a first love, the nerves, but also the reassurance that this is your friend, someone who you've trusted time and time again so why not with your heart too? it just makes me ache i'm so EMO about them

Kissing Forte was overwhelming, in the best way. Clear slowly let himself reply, pressing back gently, letting his eyes slowly fall closed and his arms slid up his firm chest to pull Forte closer. He went. His other arm came around to rest on Clear’s waist, and he tilted his head, letting the kiss fall deeper. Clear smelled of lavender and fresh lenin, and Forte felt intoxicated by the way lithe hands slowly climbed into his hair, tugging gently, but purposefully. Forte licked gently at the lip pressed against his, and Clear easily opened his mouth, and their tongues slid languidly against one another— enough to hint at an underlying desire that they would perhaps explore later. Much later. For now, it was enough to prod, to acknowledge, to taste, to slowly savor.

RAYMOND AND LAURENT (vampires don't take roadtrips)

these two are the sort of "long time coming" kind of kiss. its slow and methodical and unhurried, but definitely exploratory. the "i didn't realize i could have this" type of kiss; the kind that seems never ending because to make sure its real you have to explore it

Laurent stroked long fingers against the bunched material of Raymond’s shirt tucked into his dress pants, and let his friend work his mouth open with long, languid drags of his tongue. Laurent’s eyes, half lidded and not fully closed, studied the half furrow of Raymond’s brows. If it was stress, or relief, pain or pleasure, he couldn’t tell. But he licked back against Raymond’s tongue as it started to retreat, coaxing him back to him after a scant parting for breath.

alright let me calm down that was a LOT of kisses and idk if you were really bargining for all that when you asked but i LOOOOOVE talking about any of my MANY couples so thank you again for asking lol

#ren writing #s: darren and co #s: tcol #s: dead rites #s: the graves we dug #s: peri & dandy #s: celestial weddings #s: paramour

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popchoc · 1 year

Note

Fic prompt… Taryn & Mika, angst 7 please 💔

I Know I Have A Heart Because I Can Feel It Breaking Grey's Anatomy - Taryn Helm & Mika Yasuda

A day becomes a week. A week becomes two, then three. And before Taryn knows it, she and Mika are dating for over two months.

Two months of joy and delight, of long cuddles and sweet romance, of hormones and sex, all mixed with discovering everything there is to learn about each other. The two of them grow closer every minute they spend together, and Taryn can hardly believe how easy it all comes.

Except that it doesn't.

Not in the real world, where she happens to be Mika's superior. Where Mika is her intern, who messes up every other day like interns do, whether it's by dropping stuff, mixing up patients or simply being late. But where she excels too, showing - no, proving - over and over again that she's the one to watch.

Taryn tries. She tries to stay professional, to ignore her constant desire to lure Mika into a closet or on-call room to make out with her; to just keep it safe with only some stolen kisses here and there. She tries to tell Mika to get her act together when she screws up. She tries to stay impartial when it comes to handing out tasks. She really does.

But the fact that she's reprimanded - warned even - four times already by her own superiors tells her she's failing badly. And though they haven't said so yet, she knows she is presented with a decision - one she hates to make more than anything.

"Hey," Mika cheers, drawing her from her thoughts as she swiftly makes her way towards her through the crowded bar. She greets her with a smile and a kiss. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"

"You saw me like an hour ago," Taryn chuckles, despite the huge knot in her stomach.

Mika shrugs. "You know that doesn't count." She steps closer, wraps her arms around Taryn's neck and locks their lips into a slow and promising kiss. When she breaks it to drag her mouth towards Taryn's ear, she whispers, "I have a confession to make. I think I've fallen in—"

"Don't," Taryn says before Mika can finish, abruptly pushing her away a little. "Don't say it."

Not understanding the sudden change of tone, Mika looks at her with confusion and disbelief. She opens her mouth, but no words come out. The question is written all over her face though.

What the hell is going on?

"This has to stop," Taryn goes on, forcing herself to not look away. "We have to end this."

Still perplexed, Mika stares at her. "But… why?"

This time, however, it's Taryn who stays quiet, seemingly searching for words, for some sort of explanation that actually makes sense. Mika narrows her eyes, questioning. "Is it work?"

Taryn shakes her head. "No," she answers, still quiet at first, but then more firmly, "No."

The truth is, she can't tell Mika. She can't tell her that it's going to be Mika or her promotion, because she knows Mika won't let her choose one. She won't let Taryn give up her chief's position - not after everything she's been through. But she won't let work get in their way either, not of their careers nor of them being together. She would insist on going for the third option: a transfer to another intern program, at another hospital, in another city - maybe even another state.

And with that they would be a thousand times less together than when they stop being together for real.

The idea alone is unpalatable to Taryn.

"It's me. I am… not feeling it."

Squinting her eyes even more, Mika tries to see into Taryn's. "You're lying. These past weeks, the way you've been with me… looked at me, hold me. That wasn't nothing."

"I'm not saying it was nothing," Taryn sighs, fighting the deep urge to take Mika in her arms and never let go of her. "I'm just… saying it's gone. Over."

Mika crosses her arms, her chin up stubbornly. A simple passerby might see her as unfazed. Steady. But Taryn catches her lip trembling, as well as the tears welling in her eyes.

"You're lying," she tells her again, "You're either lying, or you're heartless."

Watching this girl, her girl, in this much pain—because of her!—almost makes Taryn agree on both. She honestly wish she could. How much easier would all this have been?

But she can't.

In fact, she can't say anything at all, even though the voice in her head screams to get out.

"If only you were right," it cries, "But I'm anything but. I know I have a heart. I know, because I can feel it breaking. I can feel it shattering into a million pieces, just by looking at you. You just can't know. Not yet. It would all be for nothing…"

Mika raises her brows. "Well?"

Taryn can hear the panic in her voice. But that's not all. She can also hear their future, she can tell what will become of them if she's gonna leave her like this.

It's the one thing she hasn't thought of. Yes, they would keep seeing each other, but Taryn pays the highest price for it. Instead of moving on like before, heck, maybe even making it through the next years till they can try again, she's ruining any possible chance they've got left. Mika wouldn't go anywhere, but she would never talk to her or even smile at her again.

She would just hate her. Hate and distrust her. And Taryn couldn't blame her for any of that.

Biting her lips, she swallows, then mumbles, "I'm sorry."

"Taryn, no," Mika squeaks, shaking her head in distress, but Taryn already turns around. "I really am," she emphasizes as she starts walking away.

She doesn't look back. She doesn't have to. She already knows she's going to regret this moment for the rest of her life.

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

homesweetnothing's prompt list | more like this

#taryn helm #mika yasuda #mika x taryn #grey’s anatomy #writing prompts #fanfiction #i can't believe you had me make them go through this when they haven't even really started 😂#(and with such a shitty sentence - lol)

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r-anela · 2 years

Text

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!- YOU SMOKE?"

-not edited-

summary: Eddie Muson finds out you smoke and isn't really impressed. You and Eddie have known each other for a while, but he finds out by accident that you smoke.

pairing: reader x Eddie Munson ( no gender mentioned, pet name princess used from Eddie)

word cound: 1,1k

warning: smoking cigarettes and weed, cursing, arguing, language (please let me know if I've forgotten anything). (do not smoke, it is bad for you)

Likes, comments and reblogs are always highly appreciated.

Please note that english is not my native language <3

GIF is from @alinastarkhov

Finally it was recess, you wanted nothing more than to escape the crazy world of high school. Only a few more weeks until graduation, hallelujah.

You weren't an outsider at school, in fact most of the students liked you, but you just couldn't stand the hierarchy and grouping. In addition, the whole bullying, exclusion and insulting of certain groups of people.

Unfortunately, some of your friends belonged to this group of people, Eddie and Dustin were especially on the radar of the jerks.

Eddie because he was just Eddie, loud, hyper, said what he thought and he was a metalhead who also played D&D. Dustin because he looked at Eddie like a big brother and always stuck to him, also he was a total science nerd and on top of that he had cleidocranial dysplasia which many saw as a reason to tease him.

Of course you always intervened when someone was teased, they left you alone, they knew you would make their lives hell.

You were in a really bad mood again and just wanted to come down and relax your nerves.

The pack of cigarettes in your pocket rustled and the lighter in your hand felt heavy.

Finally you arrived at your place, it was a spot in the woods similar to where Eddie always sells his drugs.

However, your place was even more hidden and quiet, there was no picknick bench here - just an old tree stump lying on the ground.

When you sat down on the tree stump, the world started to turn slower for you. Everything became quiet, you heard the birds chirping and small animals rustling in the underwood. You liked the smell that emerged from the forest, earthy, warm and fresh. It had rained during the night therefore the smell was more powerful than usual.

You breathe in and out the forest breeze, it feels good.

Then you take the cigarettes out of your pocket, flip your second-to-last one out of the pack and light it.

Immediately the air is filled with the scent of tobacco and burnt paper.

You take one hit after the other and enjoy the silence. You close your eyes and lean back, facing the treetops.

At that moment you heard a person moving through the forest, running in the direction of the school. So there was someone else in the forest and didn't want to be seen, you thought to yourself.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!- YOU SMOKE?" in your shock you almost swallowed your cigarette. "What the hell - Eddie Munson how dare you scare me like that!".

"Scaring you? Scaring you!! Jesus h. Christ! You're smoking- fucking bullshit. You out of all people!"

" Eddie stop yelling at me like that, calm down, it's not like you don't smoke a lot more than I do" your face was splotched red with anger, not because Eddie had caught you smoking, but because he was yelling at you like he was going nuts. " You want me to calm down? Why should I calm down? Just because I smoke doesn't mean that it' okay for you to smoke!"

"Eddie, how many times have I smoked a joint with you, please, have you forgotten?" " This is completely different!" He yelled, dropping his arms in frustration after throwing them up to point at you.

" It isn't Eddie, both are unhealthy" you said to him calmly. That made him start up again" That's exactly why I don't want you to do that!" he waved his arms wildly through the air to draw your figure in the air.

You sigh loudly and rolled your eyes, you so couldn't understand his problem. As if you didn't find it shitty that he smokes and deals. But you don't decide what he can and cannot do.

"Eddie Muson, stop talking to me like that. I know you worry about me, and that's nice to know. I don't think everything you do is good either, and you know that.-You are welcome to care about me, but can you please do it at a different noise level?" Your voice was calm and clear.

Eddie blushed and looked embarrassed. He just mumbled " Sorry" and wobbled back and forth on the spot. You stood up and walked towards him, when you put your hands on his shoulders he stopped wiggling around. "Everything is okay Eddie, take a deep breath - and then we can talk about it properly, okay?" he nodded and you rubbed his arm. At that point he took your hand and pulled you back towards the tree trunk.

"Sorry again, I didn't mean to scare you and all-" he paused to take a deep breath "you're just important to me and I felt kind of betrayed, just because I didn't know and we know all about each other" at the last statement you looked at him crookedly. "Okay, maybe not everything, but a lot" Eddie began to smile.

"Oh Eddie you are sometimes really a hothead" you shake your head smiling. Your now burned cigarette hung in your fingers like a memory. You waved it in Eddie's direction to make a point " As long as you do your stuff I don't like, I can smoke too. Is that a deal?" you looked at him with expectation. " Deal, but when I'm around only weed" " You are really hopeless, you and your weed".

You took the last cigarette out of the pack, held it in front of Eddie and said "This is the last one I'll smoke in front of you, because of the scare you gave me, you have to bear it now". You looked him provocatively in the eyes and winked at him.

He just shook his head laughing, reached into his jacket and took out his lighter. He grabbed the cigarette from your fingers and put it in his mouth. He smiled lopsidedly and when you were about to protest, he lit it and put it between your slightly parted lips.

"Eddie Munson, you are hopeless" you mumble with the cigarette in your mouth.

You took a deep drag and then held it out to Eddie, like you usually do with the joints.

He looked at you cross-eyed and took the cigarette " I would never have thought that I sit with YOU here in the forest on a tree stump and smoke" he said in disbelief. "Oh come on Eddie, just imagine we sit in your room and smoke a joint" he grimaced and you had to laugh heartily.

Eddie would probably never come to terms with the fact that you smoke more than the 1-2 joints the month with him.

Everyone else would be happy if you just smoked cigarettes.

#eddie x reader #eddiemunson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson fiction #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson × reader #st eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson × you #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson story #eddie munson stranger things

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xieyaohuan · 2 years

Text

Ravishing a god

Fandom: The Boys

Pairing: Billy Butcher/Homelander

Summary: Homelander’s got himself trapped. Billy decides to take advantage. It's a good thing he’s definitely not attracted to the cunt.

Notes: There were no Butchlander tickle fics, so I wrote one!

This takes place in an AU where Soldier Boy wasn't captured, and Maeve didn't lose her powers, but Butcher and Homelander have reluctantly teamed up because they're madly in love with each other but can't admit it.

Written for august-anon's TickleTober 2022 challenge, prompt no. 9: "Trapped" (I'm doing these out of order, and no way I'll manage to write 31 of them)

Part 1 of 2;

Read on AO3

Warnings: non-con/VERY dub-con; canon-appropriate level of swearing; bondage; part 1 is semi safe for work?

Billy Butcher is stuck in traffic when he sees the first explosion. There’s a bright flash, and a cloud of dust and debris raining down from what’s probably somewhere between the tenth and fifteenth floor of yet another half empty office building. This is where supes go to fight these days. Less property damage. Fewer deaths. Legal drama is rare. Everybody wins.

He’s not far now, so Billy decides to get out of the car and walk the rest of the way. There’s a second explosion, and the numbers on his geiger counter are spiking now. Fucking Soldier Boy and his propensity to blow shit up for attention.

It’s all quiet by the time he arrives at the building, except for a handful of spectators. Billy’s not usually one to miss a fight, but of course Homelander had to fly ahead and didn’t take him with him, not that he would have ever agreed to let that bastard carry him (the supe also didn’t offer, he can't help but notice).

Billy quickly ducks around the corner of the buiding and lights a cigarette. He’s here now, so he might as well wait for the caped cunt to come out, make sure Soldier Boy didn’t bruise his ego too badly, maybe gloat a little, and then drive home. Drive Homelander home, too, in case he got hit by that white chest blast from hell again. It’s happened more than once now, and it doesn’t really seem to harm him much, except it fries his powers for a few hours.

By the time Billy finishes his cigarette and casually flicks the butt on the ground, all is still quiet, but there’s also still no sign of Homelander. Fucking great, now he’s got to go look for the cunt in the nuclear wasteland Soldier Boy’s left behind. If the Temp V doesn’t kill him soon, the bloody radiation will.

This is what he gets for agreeing to this silly little scorched earth team-up make-believe whatever you want to call it.

That’s right. The media have latched on to their story, because everything has to be a fucking media spectacle these days, apparently. Vought is trying to sell them as some ridiculous arch enemies to lovers story. The lovers part is bollocks, of course, but the world can’t seem to get enough of them. (Their Q-rating is a solid 95, which isn’t the best, as Homelander has pointed out, but pretty damn close, not that Billy would give a fuck or know what a Q-rating is.)

Yeah. He’s stuck with Captain Cunt now, so he might as well go check up on him.

Billy sighs and enters the building through the side entrance. The elevator is broken after the blast, so he takes the stairs, following the blast damage in reverse. He can tell the room the supes fought in by the way that the door is ripped out of the wall and there’s a hole in the ceiling.

“Oi!” Billy calls. “Anybody home?”

Homelander is lying flat on his back amidst the rubble and shredded office supplies, arms above his head, eyes closed. Soldier Boys must have hit him from up close and knocked him out.

Billy steps closer and takes another look. Nah, cunt’s awake. He probably heard Butcher coming from a mile away but is choosing to ignore him.

“Oi!” He repeats, bending down to tap the supe's head. “Anybody home?”

Homelander is still refusing to acknowledge his presence, but his face is twitching ever so slightly. And then Billy sees it. Underneath the rubble there’s a bloody steel pipe wrapped twice around his wrists, ends slammed into the ground, pinning his hands above his head.

Bloody hell.

It’s like Soldier Boy left the cunt here, gift-wrapped, just for him. Ben’s got that twisted sense of humor, and the pipe doesn’t exactly look like it wrapped itself so perfectly around Homelander’s wrists through the sheer force of the explosion. Billy makes a mental note to reciprocate the favor at some point. He and Soldier Boy may be arch enemies now - doesn’t mean they can’t give each other small gifts every once in a while.

“Well, well, well,” he says. “Looks like America’s sweetheart got himself trapped.”

Homelander’s eyes snap open. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I would not have noticed had you not pointed it out.” Billy can’t quite tell if he’s annoyed or amused or a bit of both. All he knows is the bloody supe’s so fucking full of himself it’s gotta hurt him physically.

“Told ya not to get ahead of yourself, but you never listen.”

“That’s all very fascinating, but I need you to stop your lecture and help me get out of here, William,” Homelander says, unfazed. “I need to be on set in two hours.”

“Yeah, don’t think you’re gonna make that, love.” Billy smirks. And with that, he’s finally got the supe’s full attention.

“Ah, okay.” Homelander smiles and nods, then drops the smile in an instance. “And. Why. Is. That?”

Billy could tell him that he can’t break the pipe because he’s got no Temp V in his system. That would be a blatant lie, of course; he wouldn’t have headed to a supe fight without it, and Homelander knows it. Or he could tell him that it’s not his job to save his spoiled arse, so he’s going to have to wait for the Vought crew to show up.

Instead, he squats down next to Homelander and places a finger under his chin. “I just think you look awfully pretty pinned down like this. Think I’m just gonna sit here and watch for a bit.”

Homelander has the gall to sneer and cross his legs. “Make yourself comfortable. May I offer you some tea to enjoy with the view?”

He looks just a little too complacent for someone in his predicament. How often has Billy fantasized about wiping that smug grin off the cocky bastard’s face. Despite his shitty upbringing, he’s got honor though, occasionally at least. It’s not terribly honorable to hit a man who can’t hit him back. It’s not very entertaining either, come to think of it.

Billy’s grin widens. Yeah, he knows what he’s going to do instead, and he suspects it’s going to be just as satisfying as beating the cunt up. Now that he thinks about it, probably more. If he’s honest with himself, he’s always wanted to try this.

He places one hand on the supe’s chest and slowly starts sliding it down.

Homelander rolls his eyes. “You gonna grab a feel now? Really, William? That’s low.” Billy’s move has the intended effect though: his body has tensed up, and his eyes follow the hand as it trails down his suit, tracing the fake muscles.

“Maybe.” Billy straddles Homelander’s thighs. The cunt sure looks less smug now, making a last ditch effort to twist his hands free. Futile, of course; Billy makes a mental note to send Maeve a thank you before he resumes lightly grazing his sides.

There’s absolutely no doubt Homelander can feel his hands even through the thick padding of his suit; he’s scrunching his face and trying to wiggle away, all while trying to pretend that absolutely nothing is happening and that Billy hasn’t just discovered a pretty fundamental weakness in his natural armor.

This is going to be fucking delightful. Billy feels a flutter in his stomach. He unbuckles the other man’s golden belt and starts pulling out the top of his suit, just enough to reveal a thin strip of perfect marble skin.

“Oh for God’s sake, William, control yourself!” Homelander protests. He’s still trying to hide behind a thick layer of snark and sarcasm, but he’s nervous now, and Billy wonders if he knows yet what he’s got coming for him.

He slides his hand under the fabric. Homelander’s skin feels strangely normal, soft even, not at all like the practically impenetrable suit that it really is. He lightly brushes his fingers over Homelander’s belly and gets a brief burst of laughter in return.

“What the fuck, Butcher! What-” There’s surprise in the supe’s voice, something like anger, and, as Billy notes with satisfaction, a hint of panic. No. The caped cunt clearly did not see this one coming.

Butcher sits back to contemplate. If Homelander has lost his powers that probably means his supe-senses are weaker too. Which is a real shame, Billy thinks, but doesn’t really matter because he’s quite pleased with the reactions he’s getting so far, and this is much less likely to result in death and broken limbs. Let no one ever claim that Billy Butcher can’t spot an acceptable compromise when he sees one.

He slides his other hand underneath the dark blue fabric, squeezing both of Homelander’s hips at the same time, then watches him struggle to suppress a very childish giggle.

“This is ridiculous.” Homelander’s voice is strained; his whole body is twisting to get away from the hands that are prodding and probing his waist as they slowly slide upwards.

“You’re right, this is ridiculous,” Billy agrees. “Your silly costume’s too bloody tight, can’t even move my hands properly.” He rips the suit top open with both hands and pushes it up as far as he can, tearing off a golden eagle in the process, not that he cares. The bloody cape’s still half stuck underneath a struggling and cursing Homelander.

Billy thinks for a moment, then rips it out, folds it in half twice and pushes it under the supe’s head. “Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, darling.”

“You need help,” Homelander says. He’s recovered some of his composure and all of his snark. “Your, your obsession with me… it’s unhealthy, William, you know.”

“You’re the one who insists we play lovers for the cameras,” Billy points out, “and bait the media with that silly enemies to lovers fantasy Vought made up.”

“That’s… that’s just for the points,” Homelander says, a little too quickly.

Billy smirks, watching the supe blush just a little. “Yeah, sure it is.”

He takes another look at his work. Homelander isn’t half as muscular as his now shredded suit would suggest. Half naked, arms pinned above his head, strands of blond hair falling into his face, his head resting on a makeshift pillow of red white and blue… the cunt looks pretty ridiculous. Grotesque, really, distractingly grotesque. Butcher definitely doesn’t find him attractive. Absolutely not.

Fine. So what if he does?

“Right.” Billy snaps out of his thoughts to refocus on the task at hand. He pulls Homelander’s pants down just enough to reveal red briefs (red bloody briefs, god, is there no end to this man’s tackiness?). Then he lazily runs a single digit along the line where red fabric meets pale skin, back and forth, watching as Homelander’s facial expression changes from annoyed to uneasy to actively distressed.

“Fuck! Will you stop that, you fucking pervert!” The cunt may be hurling curses at him, but his voice is cracking now, and Billy knows he’s very close to completely cracking him open. All of this with just a single finger; he’s got to make sure to remember that spot. The thought of seeing that bloody marble statue of a body writhe and twist underneath him is fucking electrifying. He hasn’t felt this alive in years.

“Stop!” Homelander cries.

“Oh, but I’m only gettin’ started.” Billy leans forward until he lies comfortably on top of the supe, his legs pinning his thighs, one elbow pressing down on his shoulder, his own head right next to Homelander’s. It looks quite obscene, probably. If someone were to walk in on them now, they’d have questions.

“Mmmmmhhh. Where’d that smile go?” He gently cups Homelander’s face with one hand while the other moves playfully across his armpit, his belly, his sides. He can’t see where his hand is going, so he’s navigating entirely by the responses he’s getting. “Oh, you are going to smile for me, love.” That, and so much more.

Homelander is whimpering softly now, shaking his head, kicking his legs, pressing his lips together, clenching and unclenching his hands, trying anything really to distract himself. He’s not protesting anymore; he probably knows full well that any sentence he starts now is going to end in uncontrollable laughter.

Billy’s hand has found Homelander’s belly button and is drawing light circles around it before pushing his index finger in and wiggling it around. (“If you were poured out of a tube, how come you got this, love? Ah, maybe they made you with a belly button just so I can tickle you to pieces!") He’s now using both of his hands, moving up and down Homelander’s body, tickling him in two different places at the same time. (“Oh, you’re just loving this, aren’t you. You’ve been waiting for this. Trapped yourself, I bet.”)

Maybe it’s the teasing, maybe it’s Butcher’s relentless fingers, but Homelander finally breaks. He throws one last “Fuck you!” in Billy’s face before he dissolves into helpless giggles. He’s squirming and twisting, and Butcher is beginning to have trouble pinning him in place, but, hell, he’ll find a way just so he can keep listening to that sweet sweet laughter.

He bends down again until his face is uncomfortably close to the struggling, panting supe’s.

“This is going to be fun,” he whispers in his ear.

#TickleTober2022 #augtickletober2022 #butchlander #homelander #billy butcher #hi there I think I wrote the first Butchlander tickle fic?#tw: non-con #tw: dub-con #prompt no. 9: trapped #shameless tickle fic #don't hate me ok #butcher and homelander team-up AU #butcher and homelander are IN LOVE #pure unadulturated crack fic straight from my brain #no beta we die like the queen #my fics #maybe if he was a little less fuckable he wouldn't be in this mess #mine

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kageyuji · 3 years

Text

shortening his name except he thinks you called him another guy’s name

⤷ oikawa, bokuto, atsumu, suna, mattsun ; [gn!reader]

GENRE/WARNINGS: comfort(?), angst if you squint hard enough, mild swearing

NOTES: i will literally offer my hand in marriage if you reblog. and thank you to @/sugawaaras for giving me the idea for mattsun’s <33

━━ OIKAWA

even though he tried to be confident, in reality, his self confidence sat on a throne built from things he told himself in the mirror and compliments he never believed

so its not a surprise that his first reaction just... isn’t one. he’ll stop and replay it over and over again in his head to make sure he’d heard you correctly

and then his heart breaks — it actually hurts him, makes him feel like he can’t breath, and before he even knows it theres tears in his eyes

of course, he knows you’re never supposed to let the reason you’re crying see you crying

so he attempts to act like he’s more annoyed than that he just had his heart just obliterated

it’s not a secret though. through the pain in his eyes, anyone can see the shattered remnants of what was once his heart

“ru, can you grab my phone for me?” you called to your boyfriend from the couch, remembering that you’d left your phone in the other room.

it was quiet for a moment; not long enough for you to ask if he was okay, but long enough that the silence was odd. you heard heavy footfalls again, then saw oikawa standing just inside the room with a clear look of betrayal on his face.

“what?” you asked him, wondering if he was kidding around. you hadn’t done anything, there was no reason why he’d actually be upset with you.

as he stepped closer to you, you could see the tears whelling up in his eyes, and you were left to wonder what was wrong.

“what’s wrong? tooru, hey, are you ok?” your voice was much softer when you spoke this time. your heart dropped when you saw him step back at your step forward.

“so now you can call me by my name?” you think his voice was meant to be low and hostile, but in his struggle not to cry it came out strangled and cracked.

“what did... do you mean ‘ru?”

“yes! who the hell is that? if you wanted to-“

“no no, babe, your name is tooru. the last syllable of your name is ru. it’s just a shortening of your name, not someone else’s.”

you watched his lips form a smile and he let out something like a laugh, seemingly at his own confusion, and then the tears finally fell.

he’d walked into your arms soon after, with his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in the crook of your neck

“sorry... sorry for not trust- trusting you, i just-” his sentence was cut through with sharp breaths and hiccups, and then finally stopped with your own voice.

“it’s alright, i didn’t mean to scare you. we can cuddle if you want, hm?”

he was already struggling to keep himself from fully breaking down. but when one of your hands came up to pet his hair, a whine left him — you think it was supposed to be an ‘mhm’ to your offer — and his hands gripped tightly at your shirt, his arms around you getting tighter.

━━ BOKUTO

he doesn’t miss a beat, immediately looking up at you to wonder if he’d heard you correctly

it’s just a small spike of anxiety at first, but the more he lets the foreign name resonate with him, the more it makes him worry

he has to build up the courage to ask you who the other guy is, because he can’t do it right away, he’s way too nervous

he looks so sad as well, puppy dog eyes looking at you, seemingly just slightly worried

unbeknownst to you, his heart is pounding in is chest and with each passing second, it runs the risk of shattering

“‘taro!” your voice was a giggle as he left little kisses all over you. they weren’t nearly enough to leave hickeys, just little pecks across your face, your neck, your chest.

as soon as the name left your lips though, he stopped, golden eyes snapping up to look at you with a pain you’d never seen in them before.

you could tell he was definitely upset about something, but you had no idea what it could be. hell, the way he looked at you, it was almost as though you were the reason.

of course, you were unaware that bokuto’s first thoughts went to rintaro, middle blocker from the famed inarizaki. suddenly he was thinking of every time you’d ever spoken about the team, said how many fan girls they had, how many games they’d won.

he wanted to say something. he really wanted to ask what you’d meant. but the words seemed caught in his throat.

it wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it though, and he pushed the words out, despite the alarms going off in his head and his heart immediately jumping to his throat.

“who is ‘taro?” you didnt think you’d ever heard him sound so small. so timid, so close to his voice cracking with the tears he was holding back, so... scared.

“you? who else? i can call you kou if you’d prefer that though. you don’t have to look so upset.”

bokuto smiled then, relaxing the weight on his arms enough so he was on top of you. he supported himself enough not to crush you, but there was nothing more he wanted in the world right now than to be held by you.

━━ ATSUMU

he liked to consider himself a tough guy. he liked to.

but there were times whenever his support fell, leaving his world to crumble in his hands, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold it all together

and when thought he heard a guy’s name that isn’t his own come from you, it felt just like one of those times

he was asking what you’d meant before his mind could even properly register your words

and by that point he didn’t care enough to replay the name in his head, his mind already caught up looking for the things he’d done wrong, the things he hadn’t done.

“oh, ‘umi, if you want to we can go to th-”

“what the hell?”

it surprised you how much venom laced his words, despite the fact that you’d done nothing wrong. the thought that he was being sarcastic or joking with you crossed your mind, but atsumu wasn’t exactly the best actor.

he couldn’t fake the look on his face, couldn’t fake how his heart had seemingly stopped just from the look in his eyes.

“what do you mean?” your voice was soft when you spoke now, no longer so nonchalant.

he lips pressed into a thin line and he set his jaw in frustration. it took him taking a deep breath to finally say, “you called me ‘omi.’ if you like-”

“tsumu.”

“no, i heard you, you called me omi. if- if theres...” he never finished his sentence. there was already a lump in his throat and he knew that if he were to say anything more, he’d cry.

“no, no. i called you umi. like your name just a little bit different.”

his face was drawn in a look on confusion. his eyes studied you, trying to look for any sign of you lying. but he trusted you, of course he trusted you.

he came over to hug you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you heard him sniff, but you knew he’d deny crying if you asked him.

“i love you,” his voice made him sound so small, it was a level of weak and vulnerable you’d not seen from him.

“i love you too.”

━━ SUNA

the words “stay calm” had never been repeated in his head to himself so much

well, it was more like a string of curse words with “stay calm” thrown in occasionally, but he’d never felt so scared

the look on his face is annoyed at first, but it quickly starts to shift into one with a little more worry

he’s terrified, in all honesty. but he’s already told himself he’s not going to let you see that

“taro, can we stop by a corner store on the way home? i need something.”

your voice had been so calm. so why did it feel like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest?

he knew you hadn’t meant to. but why you’d even slipped and call him by another name in the first place worried him. it took him only a few seconds for his mind to land on bokuto koutarou.

bokuto koutarou, one of the top aces.

“well fuck you too i guess.” his tone may have been confused with one of anger at first, but you could tell that wasnt it. anger is a secondary emotion, you knew in reality he was hurt.

the only problem is, you didn’t know what. from his words you knew it was something you’d done. but there was nothing that came to mind.

“sorry? what did i do?”

suna hesitated for only a second before asking why you’d called him by another name. he took a deep breath immediately after speaking, your silence only breaking his heart more. as though it wasn’t already destroyed.

but your silence was born from shock and confusion, not being caught like suna had assumed.

“taro. like rintarou. like your name. who else would i be talking about?”

“uhm. koutarou? i don’t know, forget about it.” he’d never felt like a bigger jackass before; he never swore at you.

you smiled a little at his words and walked over to hug him. he hummed at that and pressed a small kiss to your temple, then buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s ok, rin.”

━━ MATTSUN

he had to stop for a moment to let it sink in before he could react

after that there were too many emotions rushing through him to do anything for another few moments

in fact, his silence coupled with the distant, betrayed look on his face was somewhat unsettling

it takes him longer than he would like to question you, but it’s because he’s already preparing to collect his shattered heart after one of his worst fears becomes true

“why are you here?” mattsun heard iwaizumi’s voice and he smiled a little to himself, knowing that he must have been talking to you.

he’d been waiting for you all day, it seemed like forever since he’d last seen you. the only thing he wanted right now was to hold you.

“oh, i’m here to see ‘kawa!” you said happily. mattsun could hear the smile in your voice without even seeing you.

you were here for oikawa. of course you were here for starboy oikawa tooru, of course your boyfriend was just a stepping stone.

he was still frozen when you rounded the corner. the look on his face was concerning, you couldn’t remember the last time — if there ever was one — he’d looked absolutely terrified, the last time he looked so hurt.

“mattsun... are you ok?”

he didn’t answer you. it took him a few moments before he could finally speak, and even then his voice was different than it usually was. it was... pained? betrayed? whatever it was, you knew it wasn’t mattsun.

“did you really come here just to see oikawa? what happened to me being your boyfriend?”

it took you a few moments to try and understand what he was talking about. you’d never said that. hell, you always came for mattsun, not once had you ever spared oikawa a thought.

“no, babe. i said ‘kawa’, as in matsukawa.”

he seemed to melt at your words. that expression disappeared from his face, his body untensing. he moved to pull you into his arms, holding you close to himself with a desperation he’d not had before.

him thumb rubbed soothing circles on your back. you could tell he wanted to say something. but then he stopped right before the words left him, instead opting to make a joke to lift the mood.

“good, i was about to kick oikawa’s ass.”

“...we were having a moment.”

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rafescoke · 3 years

Text

Jealous ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe finds himself being jealous over his friends with benefit flirting with a certain blonde boy

Warnings: Straight smut, angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, jealous Rafe

A/N: i am so sorry JJ for making you the second choice for almost every fic ever i still ly :( anyways thank you for 380+ followers wtf you guys are beyond amazing <3 here’s the smut you guys have been craving for:

“You’re handsome.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ smiled, showing her his pearly white teeth. “You’re not too bad, (Y/N).”

“Just not too bad?” She glowered, and leaned closer onto the blonde boy. He stared into her eyes, feeling her body heat now that she was too close to him, and he could smell her sweet scent. She reminded him of an ice cream during a hot day.

“Fine,” he huffed, and watched as her mouth morphed into a smile. “You look hot, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” she giggled, placing a soft kiss against his cheeks as he laughed along with her, putting his arms around her.

(Y/N) never really had anything with JJ, being friends with him since god knows when, but she wasn’t cool with his other friends. He was there for her, and she was there for him, but they weren’t what people would call as best friends.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” JJ asked, a glint in his eyes. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at this, being done explaining to him that she’s not dating Rafe Cameron and will never be. They were the total opposite; he’s a kook, and she’s a pogue.

“JJ, I don’t know what to explain anymore,” she grunted, resting her back against the lawn chair as she watched the partygoers dancing to the booming music. “He is not my boyfriend.”

“You’re always out with him,” he shrugged, and (Y/N) gulped before she could answer him. After being Rafe’s friend with benefits for 5 months now, she didn’t think anyone would notice their relationship. They did everything in their power to keep themselves lowkey, but here JJ was; spilling everything.

“I won’t judge, you know,” he said, and gave her a sly smirk. “I get it if you like a kook.”

(Y/N) laughed nervously, and then proceeding to cup his face in her small hands. Her breath hitched at how adorable he looked in her hands, and she felt the urge to kiss his cheeks.

“I’m not even friends with him,” she rolled her eyes, and JJ swung his arms around her one more time, this time pulling her close. They stayed in silence for a few seconds before JJ pointed to a couple by the fire, saying a joke, and (Y/N) had laughed from the punchline.

She didn’t know it was the humour or the alcohol taking over after how many shots of vodka since the start of the party. Whatever it was, she truly enjoyed JJ’s presence; her childhood friend.

Rafe Cameron entered the party with a brunette girl he owed his father to bring, and he had never looked so miserable being in a party before. People looked at them as they made their entrance, and Rafe almost let out an annoyed groan knowing that people will talk about him and whatever the name of the girl was.

His eyes swept over the swarm of dancing bodies to look for a particular (H/C) haired girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, continuing to walk to where they served the drinks.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Rafe,” the girl said, and Rafe nodded, not wanting to make any unnecessary conversation with her. He tried to negotiate with Ward, saying how the business will still go on without him having to take whoever this girl is to the party, but Ward had insisted him to do so, saying how he should think about making his family proud.

Rafe grunted, and his feet moved towards the backyard. He was glad the girl didn’t try to follow him after seeing her friends, and he didn’t think he would even talk to her if she did. He didn’t know what he want; he was just as confused as everyone else.

“You think so?”

His head perked up at the sound of her familiar voice, and Rafe found himself searching for her small figure. His eyes passed the couple making out by the fire, some pogue munching on a burger, someone preparing to jump into the pool and then -

Her. And JJ.

He crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her as he watched her laughed again, her head tilting to one side. Every time Rafe would tell her a joke she would do the same thing, and Rafe felt a minor pang of hurt across his heart after knowing that she did the same with JJ as well.

“You know I would love to, J,” (Y/N) said, running her fingers through his blonde hair. “But your friends just don’t like me.”

“They do!” JJ insisted, “They just think you’re too intimidating. I don’t know what they’ll think about you if they know you’re with Rafe.”

Rafe raised his brows at the sound of his name, but before he could express a proper reaction, he heard her speak.

“JJ, enough with his name,” she groaned, “I don’t like Rafe, and I will never like him.”

Rafe almost laughed at this because god, who does she think she is? She was begging for him every time they did the ungodly activity, pulling his hair and leaving scratches behind his back. Rafe had to explain to Topper and Kelce how it was Sarah’s new kitten that had scratched him when they went out for surfing, and they didn’t even have any pets.

He listened intently again, getting more amused every second. Although he wanted to hear more of their conversation, he couldn’t deny the hurt coursing through his veins at the sound of her voice practically hating on him. He didn’t know if it was an act or if it was the truth, but he didn’t like anything about it.

“Then be with me,” JJ mumbled, and Rafe watched as she nervously laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Rafe stayed quiet, wanting to hear her reply to that plea, and his heart was beating so fast.

“You’re cute,” she suddenly said, pressing a slow kiss against his cheeks again. “I’m so glad I have you in my life.”

Was that a yes? Or was that a no? Rafe cursed in his mind, not having a clue about the truth behind what she just said, and before he could process it further, the girl that he came here with tugged on his arms, catching his attention.

He clicked his tongue, “Yeah?”

“I want you to meet my friends,” she smiled, and proceeded to pull him to her group of friends who were waiting by the corner. Rafe tried to maintain his grim smile, trying to figure out how in the hell this girl did not notice the obvious signs that he was trying to show;

He was not interested.

“Here’s Rafe,” she exclaimed to her friends, and continued to introduce them to him. He smiled weakly at them, not really hearing their names, his mind wandering to a certain girl a distance away.

“Rafe?”

“Huh?” He looked at her again, “What is it?”

“They’re asking if you’re joining the truth or dare game in a few minutes,” she replied, and she had a look that wanted him to say yes.

“No,” he shrugged, and he watched as her shoulders slump. “But we can stay, I guess.”

She cheered, and Rafe used almost all of his energy not to mutter anything back, and followed her to the middle of the party where everyone started to gather for whatever middle school games they were planning to play.

He sat right next to hear, flicking his lighter on and off, not paying any attention towards his surrounding until she heard the familiar laugh again.

(Y/N) giggled at something JJ had said, walking towards the circle and sitting opposite of Rafe. They didn’t notice his presence, being too caught up with each other, and Rafe watched as she laughed again. He gritted his teeth.

“Who’s playing?” A voice suddenly spoke, and Rafe assumed him to be the host of the party. He thought of how the party sucks and he could hold a better party than this, but when she saw (Y/N) saying that she will be playing, he knew he had to be in the same game as her too.

“I’m playing,” he said, and watched as the people around him stared at him. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the voice and she quickly looked at his direction, and he watched as she tried to contain her shocked expression.

“Okay, we have enough people playing,” the host said, “We’ll start with. . . John B, wanna choose first?”

“Yeah,” John B sat up straighter, looking around the circle until his eyes landed on his best friend. “JJ, truth or dare.”

JJ put on the smirk Rafe hates, “Easy. Truth.”

The crowd groaned and some booed, but JJ still had the smirk on his face, yelling to the crowd that he was just trying to calm everyone’s nerves.

“Okay,” John B rubbed his hands together, “Who would you like to fuck in this room?”

The room fell silent as their attentions were on JJ, and JJ laughed before replying the question.

“Seriously? I thought you’re going to ask for my bank account or something, not that I have money in it. But (Y/N). I’ll fuck (Y/N).”

Rafe found himself gritting his teeth, staring straight at the girl who was also staring back at him. She had a teasing smile on her face and Rafe had to stop himself from pulling her out of this goddamn party and into his car.

“I’ll go with (Y/N). Truth or dare?”

He watched her again, his heartbeat quickening.

“Dare,” she shrugged, and the crowd cheered, finally getting any actions they were craving since the start of the party. Rafe sat up straight, wanting to see to what extend she would do something, and he would be lying if he says he wasn’t nervous.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

(Y/N) stood up from her seat, walking away from JJ and towards Rafe. He widened his eyes, not sure if she would actually do it or if she was messing with him, but she was clearly walking towards him and everyone knows it.

She leaned onto him and Rafe swore he could feel his heart stopping. He could smell her scent now; that goddamn cupcake smell he loves so much.

“You’re drooling,” she whispered, and turned on her heels.

She proceeded to return back to her position and kissed JJ with all of her heart and the crowd cheered, but Rafe was trying to calm himself down. He felt his anger rising, being humiliated just like that in front of everyone.

He stood up, ignoring the girl beside him’s questions and continued to walk upstairs, leaving the stupid game downstairs to smoke and probably snort some coke in his pocket. He didn’t know anyone here that much, being in a party outside of Kooksville and only knowing the pogues, but he’s not friends with them so he was totally alone in this case.

He entered a guest bedroom and proceeded to climb onto the bed, taking out his stash and unfolding a dollar from his back pocket.

“Hey.”

Rafe jumped to his feet, shocked to his core from the sudden voice, but he relaxed when he saw (Y/N), though he didn’t show it. He continued to separate the powder into lines, rubbing his nose a few times.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” He asked, sniffing and lowering his head to inhale the intoxicating substance. He threw his head back, feeling warm, and looked at her again.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, being questioned with “where’s the boyfriend?” almost two times now on the same night, and crossed her arms.

“You have no power to be mad at me, Rafe,” she said, and walked closer to him. He watched as she leaned onto him like she did downstairs a few minutes ago, “You’re not my fucking boyfriend, and you know it.”

Rafe laughed, his head getting woozy, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling at that time, and god he felt like doing the most filthiest things to her.

“And if I want to fuck JJ,” she continued, her face so close to him that her voice was just above a whisper, “Then I’m allowed to.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, and he stared into her eyes with a smirk tugging on his lips. “You wanna fuck him? He can fuck you better than I can?”

Her breath hitched as he trailed his pointer along her soft cheeks from the temple, and he whispered again, this time with his face so close she could feel the heat from his breathing.

“I’m asking, baby, can he?”

One thing that (Y/N) hate was being challenged, and the look that Rafe gave her fit that exact meaning.

Before she could mutter anything else he attached their lips, moving so fast she didn’t have time to catch a breath. He pushed her over so her back was against the bed, her chest heaving, and Rafe had never looked prouder when he saw her in that state.

“Wanna be a bitch again?”

“Maybe,” she answered, with that twinkling in her eyes.

“Wrong answer,” he replied, and kissed her roughly again, hearing her moans and her fingers pulling on his already unkept hair, making them more messier. He groaned when he felt her biting on his lips, knowing that he would have to create a new lie to Topper and Kelce on why his lips are all bruised.

He pulled her apart again, this time with both of their chests heaving, and Rafe swore he had never looked at someone more beautiful than the girl before him. His eyes trailed down to her chest, seeing her breast all pushed up and her nipples hard against the cold air.

He licked his teeth, “No bra?”

“No-pe,” she giggled, emphasising on the ‘ope’. She inched closer to his ear, “Making it easy for you.”

“Thanks, baby,” he replied before kissing her fully on her lips again, and slowly going down to her core. He placed his wet kisses from her neck to her stomach and down to the aching heat as she arched her back from the tingling feeling, placing her palm against her mouth to silence herself.

He continued to place soft kisses on the outer side of her pussy, his member hardening when he could see the wet mark on her panties. He watched as she bit her lips, closing her eyes from just the kisses.

“Beg,” he whispered, and (Y/N) looked up from her laying position, feeling like dying at the slow reaction from him. She groaned, desperate for her release, and bit her lips.

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, withering as he ran his fingers along her thighs. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Before she could prepare herself he dipped in, collecting her juices with hid tongue and flicking back and forth on her clit. She couldn’t contain her voice anymore, whimpering and moaning his name as he continued to please her, liking the way she was so submissive under his touch.

Just like putty.

“Oh my god, you’re amazing,” she gasped, gripping onto the sheets with her fingers. “I’m close, Rafe, oh my god.”

He chuckled against her core, sending vibrations throughout her body and causing her to yell from the overwhelming pleasure, gripping on the sheets even harder she could feel it coming undone from the mattress. She could feel the familiar euphoric feeling inside of her stomach and arched her back to reach it, until-

“Rafe!”

“Huh?” He looked up to her, innocently wiping his mouth with the back of his hands as he crawled back go her. He gave her a smile, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I was so close,” she answered, with tears in her eyes. Rafe tutted, using his thumb to wipe a tear that escaped, and proceeded to press the thumb on her clit, causing her to jerk upwards in shock.

“You’re okay, baby?”

“You’re a dick,” she answered, and jerked again as he pressed his thumb into her one more time. “The biggest dickhead I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” He raised his brow, and placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Should I go then?”

He made a move to go away and without any shame she pulled his by his wrist back, not letting go until he chuckled, placing himself before her again.

“Answer me one question,” he whispered, and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Me or JJ.”

“You.”

“Who?”

“You, Rafe.”

“Not my name,” he said in a sing-song voice, and proceeded to fake-yawn.

“You, daddy.”

He watched her with a smile on his face, leaning closer and pressing a kiss ok her cheeks one more time. “And will you be good to me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Rafe was harder than ever, he could basically cum just by seeing her all worked up under him. His breathing was heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck the girl before him.

“Okay, then,” he sighed, and before she could process anything he turned her over, exposing her ass to the air as the skirt she wore rode up to her waist, and (Y/N) felt a rush of cold against nipping on her skin.

She yelped as she felt his palm made contact with her cheeks, spreading his fingers and massaging them right after. He liked the colour of her skin now, all red, just because of him.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his boxers down, letting his member springing free and watched as his precum pooled on his tip, and quickly positioned himself before her.

“Please,” she begged, and that was enough for Rafe to push into her, closing his eyes and muttering a curse word while he felt her closing on him.

“Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he swore, fastening hid movements. The girl was practically screaming under him, and he had to place his hands against his mouth to keep her shut. He groaned, feeling the warm feeling inside him growing.

“Shut up, you bitch.”

She moaned at his words, taking a liking at the way he downgrades her since the first they had sex, and pulled on his hair as she tried to comprehend the euphoric feeling inside her.

“I’m close,” she warned, tugging on his back as he pushed into her, this time with a faster speed than before. “Fuck, I’m so close, baby-”

“Cum and I’ll fucking kill you,” he groaned, pushing himself into her that he ended up balls-deep, watching her scrunched up face trying to take his full length. He grunted, feeling his own end nearing, and getting ready to pull out.

“Fuck!” He yelled, aiming his penis at her face as he shot his load, and she could feel the hot leaks dripping off her face down to her neck. She didn’t reach her high, not wanting to disobey Rafe before, and she felt like crying her hardest.

“You’re crying now?” He laughed, cupping his face with his hands and watched as his cum dripped from her eyebrows down to her eyes, and he took the chance to clean them using his fingers before placing them before her eyes.

“Suck.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her eyes glassy.

“I said,” he leaned closer, placing his knee against her core and watched her jerked again, “Suck.”

She gritted her teeth and took his fingers into her mouth, tasting him and making lewd noises. Rafe watched her with his mouth slightly parted, his eyes a shade darker.

“You’ve been a good girl, princess,” he smiled, and made a move to hold her. She pushed his hands away and he laughed, “Tell me what do you want.”

“I want you to fuck off.”

“Really?”

She bit her lips, not wanting to answer his question. In truth, she wanted nothing but for him to fuck her like it was their last day on earth.

“You still want me to fuck off when I do-” he inserted a finger inside her and she grunted, “This?”

“Y-yeah,” she answered, biting her lips.

“Are you sure? Even when I do-” he inserted another finger, “This?”

“F-fuck, yeah,” she gripped the sheets, feeling the familiar feeing knotting in her stomach again for the third time.

“Really?” He sighed, and took his fingers out, pretending to wipe them on his shirt. “Guess I’ll go. Respect the lady, you know?”

“Fuck you,” she said, and Rafe chuckled when she took ahold of his fingers and inserting them into her by herself, arching herself at the feeing she’ve been craving since forever.

Rafe bit his lips, watching her guiding his fingers and he wished he had his phone with him so that he could record this moment and watch them over and over again.

“Close, baby?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, thrusting against his fingers. Rafe sucked in a breath, hearing her moans, and before he knew it she released himself against his fingers, screaming his name as she reached her high.

He laid himself beside her, staring at the ceiling as they tried to catch their breaths again. (Y/N) turned to look at him, and when he noticed she was looking at him he turned his head to her in the same way, so they were both staring at each other.

“You’re still an asshole.”

“I know.”

“And I hate you.”

“I know,” he smiled, and god, (Y/N) never had a stronger will to slap that stupid smile from his face.

“You love me though,” he suddenly said, and (Y/N) turned to look at him again.

“God, you’re full of yourself.”

“You just don’t want to accept the truth, (Y/L/N).”

“Whatever,” she got up, searching for her discarded panties and fixing her fallen top and skirt. She ran her fingers through her hair to disentangle them before making her way towards the door, only stopping to look at him before she could return to the booming music.

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

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swaqcenix · 2 years

Text

࿐ྂAngelique x fem!reader࿐ྂ

Dating Angie Bouchard | Prompt

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Prompt: If you were dating Angelique Bouchard

Warnings: None

Minors DNI

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Let's be honest, she’d tease you CONSTANTLY. There would be no escape of endless teasing, especially when it came to public events. If she saw you remotely flustered, she’d push it further. She likes seeing you flustered.

Absolutely doesn’t want anyone touching what is hers. If you even remotely seem excessively friendly with someone, she walks over and pulls you into a deep kiss. Nobody, touches what belongs to her. Certainly not you.

I actually think in private, she’d be extraordinarily soft. She would NEVER admit it of course. Hell no, she’d deny and scoff at even the remote idea of her being labelled ‘soft’, yet she was.

Absolutely spoils you rotten. You’d start dating and perhaps only have a few of your favourite clothes in your wardrobe. Not even 2 weeks in, your wardrobe would be absolutely FULL with gifts she’d brought, and that’s only the cloThes.

She’s a freak in the bed. I mean, you already knew that, you could tell. The way she teased, and flirted to no ends, but god it still didn’t prepare you for how much of a freak she could be. She’d do anything to get you to moan.

She doesn’t exactly remain quiet in bed. She’s not a screamer, but she’s certainly not a silent woman. And when you push her over the edge, the words of french slip easily from her lips.

If you do something stupid, and don’t think it through, expect her to get pissed. Especially if you get yourself hurt by being reckless. If you got drunk, she’d find it funny but if you got hurt drunk, she’d yell at you in english then switch to french. It would scare the SHIte out of you.

She does not beg for ‘cuddles’ even if she wants them. That word would be too juvenile to even pass her lips. She’d want them constantly, but she’d have created her own subtle way of asking. Perhaps a word, perhaps a phrase of even something she’d do that would give you the hint. But, she loved them.

She’s big on physical affection. This surprised you at first, you never expected her to be someone who was big on it. Yet, oh boy she was. Even if it was just her hand on your wait, her hand in your own, or hand in your hair. She would do anything to be close to you. You’d be lying if it wasn’t adorable.

If anyone hurts her, you’d cause a riot. Let’s be honest, nobody touches you and nobody touches her ether. You’re extremely protective of each other. Everyone knows it, therefore nobody dares to push it.

Celebrating anniversaries with her are the best. She’d spoil you as you always knew, but there’d always be a surprise something she’d add extra. She loves you and it showed.

After the most mind blowing sex, she’d hold you close to her and not want to move. She’s also an extremely heavy-sleeper, but knows instantly if you’ve moved from her arms. It makes waking up in the mornings if you do want to surprise her, extraordinary hard.

She’s actually a morning person, you on the other hand are not. She loves to tease you some mornings which, ether ends up with a pillow in her face, a pillow in yours or perhaps both.

Her secret talent is actually singing. You found her one day singing softly something in French. She looked almost flustered when she saw you observing, but you wanted her to carry on so she did. Ever since then she’d never hidden her talent. She even sometimes sang you to sleep if you were unable to sleep.

Her favourite time of the day is when she gets to go home and be with you. Lying on the couch watching a movie wrapped up with you, wasn’t something she pegged herself for. But, for you she’d give the world as you are world.

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#eva green #angelique bouchard #angelique bouchard x reader #dark shadows #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #alma peregrine #eva green web

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Note

Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭😭

Anyways, have a great day 💙

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #sir lewis hamilton #sir lewis #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers imagines

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