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bloody-peach · 8 months

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Eat Me, Drink Me (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x F!Reader smut fic)

(Gif made by me, original image found on google images)

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Now Playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution, Marilyn Manson - Blood Honey

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, drugs (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, drinking, dom Vox, bottom Y/N, vanilla stuff around the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

A/N: Yep, had to make some smut with Vox now, didn't I? Welp, here ya go! I would recommend listening to the recommended songs while reading this, to get into the atmosphere. Headphones required, just for added experience. ENJOY!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk

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You left the Hotel, exhausted. You had to deal with Niffty trying to kill new guests, Angel Dust’s bullshit with Cherri Bomb, and Husk drinking his life away on top of all the other duties you had there. But the worst of the worst was Alastor, he always loved to torment you and make you suffer or feel scared. Even now as you walk further away from the building, you could still hear his laugh deep in your mind. At least you were able to leave for the night, but you always felt like someone was watching you. Someone....much more powerful than you.

Vox, the TV Demon, has had his eye on you for some time, ever since he caught you on the hotel’s TV commercial. He remembers pausing the clip when it froze on you and he’d jack off, just imagining of what he could do to you. He was obsessed. And he decided that tonight was the night.

You kept walking when you heard electricity buzzing. You looked and it was just a broken neon sign, but it still left you uncomfortable. You kept walking, but the buzzing came back. You started to quicken your pace to try to escape the noise or the potential source of it, but it just kept following you, even when you started to run. You then run into a brick wall, realizing you must’ve turned a wrong way while you ran. You just turned with your back against the wall, unable to escape. You saw a glowing blue square in the dark along with small blue zaps of electricity spreading through the area. Soon, the thing came closer to reveal it was Vox, the overlord that controlled the masses through the visual media. You had never met him before, but you felt a sense of dread, thinking this was another guy just like Alastor. Once he came close to you, he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin'.” You sigh in mild annoyance and say, “Look, I just...Alastor already torments me. If you just want to make my life a living hell like he does, then don’t bother. I don’t need another demon doing it too.” You didn’t have anything against him in particular, you were just too stressed out to deal with another demon who wanted to watch you suffer.

Vox’s red eyes flickered with a mix of confusion, then it turned to deep-seated rage. “Alastor...” he snarled. He controlled himself and then looked at you, with a slightly annoyed look in his face. “Is that why you were running? Because of that radio trash?” He put his hands behind his back, and said, “You know I’m not like him, right? I ain’t the type to get off to torturing folks. Well, not much at least. But you’re different.” He smiled as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “I don’t want to see you suffer, Y/N. I...well, i’m not entirely sure what I want with you.” He looked a little sheepish, an emotion you didn’t expect from him, but he quickly fixed himself and played with a strand of your hair. “But I do know I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

You wondered why he knew your name, but then another thought came to mind. “Wait...you know Alastor?” He then chuckled, saying, “Do I know him? I wish I didn’t. That motherfucker and I go way back. Can’t stand him, frankly. He’s all about radio and all that outdated shit, but me? I’m all for anything new, as you can see.” He then petted your head. “Has he been giving you a hard time? Of course he would, he always enjoys that kind of shit. You poor thing.” His gaze softened as you put your head down, your expression full of fear and sadness, due to those traumatic memories. Vox gently grabbed your chin and brought your head up to look at him, saying with an unusual tenderness, “I promise you, Y/N, I ain’t like that. I can be...different. If you’d let me.”

You got the sense that he seemed to care for your struggles, but you’ve been in Hell for a long time. Very rarely have you encountered a person who actually cared about anyone. The only ones you knew of were Charlie and Vaggie, and out of all of Hell, that’s saying something. How can you trust what this man was saying? How can you be sure he isn’t out to hurt you or take advantage of you?

You look away from him, your face still holding that sad expression. “I want to believe you, but...how do I know you’re not just manipulating me? This is Hell, after all. Hard to find a genuine soul around here.” Vox sighed, the sound of static echoing through the alleyway. His eyes held a look of understanding, a flash of empathy. “Can’t say I blame ya for thinkin’ that way,” he admitted. “This place isn’t exactly known for its honesty.” He petted your head again, this time almost touching his forehead on yours, his voice going soft. “I don't know if I can promise you heaven, Y/N. But what I can promise you is that I ain’t here to make your life more miserable than it already is.” He then extended his hand, a smile on his face, “How about we try something? No tricks, no manipulation. Just you and I. See where it goes.”

You think about it. Well, he did seem pretty convincing, and whatever he had to offer had to be much better than what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

You sigh and say as you shake his hand, “Ok.” Vox’s screen lit up with a cheerful grin as he felt your hand in his, the cool electricity sparking between your fingers. “That’s more like it, Y/N!” He said as he shook your hand. He let go of your hand and stepped back with a flourish. “Now let’s get outta this dump. If we’re gonna be...whatever we are, we might as well do it in style.” He then had an idea, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How about we head to my place? The entertainment district ain’t much, but it beats this shithole any day.” His usual cocky smile returned, the light of his screen casting a glow around the alley. “Besides, I’ve got the best view in Hell. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.” You smile, liking the idea. “Ok, that sounds real nice.”

You end up following him to his place and you’re amazed at how luxurious it was. Expensive furniture, so clean you could eat off of the floor, and a couch in front of a large window, showing the hellish night sky. You look out the window and he could see your eyes sparkle with delight as you marveled his abode. “Wow...you can see all of Hell from up here!” He chuckled as he crossed his arms, finding your joy adorable. He could get used to making you this happy. “Told ya, didn’t I? Best view in Hell.” He strode over to join you by the window, his eyes looking down at the fiery grounds below. “You get a good look at this place, you realize it ain’t all that bad. Got its charms, don’t it?” You turn to him and you nod. He turns to look at you, a genuine smile lighting up his screen. “Glad you like it, Y/N. Hopefully it makes your whole...situation a bit more bearable.” His gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer before he turned away to the bar, his screen showing an unclear emotion. “Now, how ‘bout a drink? I got a stash of the finest bourbon in all of Hell. Helps take the edge off.” “A drink sounds great. Thanks.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that you were slowly starting to warm up to him. “One helluva drink, coming right up!” As he grabs the bottle of bourbon, he then had a thought. He sat the bourbon down and dug out a small vial from the inside of his tux. It was a bottle of Valentino and Velvette’s ‘Love Potion’, an aphrodisiac they were collaborating on. Val gave him a bottle as a gift, but he never thought of using it. But knowing what Y/N had been going though day by day, dealing with that radio fucker’s bullshit all the time, he figured that maybe you needed a little something to help you relax, to feel pleasure and bliss instead of pain and fear. It’s not a betrayal of your trust if there’s good intentions behind it, right?

He pours the potion into the bourbon and mixed it, making sure Y/N wasn’t looking. “This stuff’s got a kick like a mule, but it’s smooth. Just like me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and he hears her giggle along with it. Oh, how he adored that laugh and how he hoped that once his plan worked, he would hear more of it, along with other lovely sounds. Once he poured a glass for himself, he brought the glasses to the couch, giving you the tainted drink and offering you to sit on the couch with him. You couldn’t help but blush a tiny bit from how he looked, the way he was sitting, offering you to join him in a moment to yourselves. You sat next to him, a bit shy, but soon relaxing in the couch. Vox raised his glass, the light from his screen reflecting from the swirling liquor. “To new beginnings, Y/N. May they be as interesting as the journey here.” With that, you both clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing through the room as you both take a long sip, his eyes never leaving you. Luckily, you didn’t notice his gaze as you downed the drink completely.

You could handle bourbon pretty well, that’s pretty much what Husk served at the bar usually, but never as high quality as this. “Man, this stuff is really good. Sweeter than any other bourbon I’ve had.” ‘Yeah, that’s the love potion that’s doing that,’ Vox thought in his head. He smirks, watching you enjoy the drink. His heart pounded in his chest, light flicks of static on his screen due to anticipation. “Glad ya like it, Y/N. It’s a special brand, adds a bit of sweetness to the usual burn. Perfect for those wanting to unwind.” He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, seeing you this relaxed and comfortable in his presence, even if it was artificially manufactured. He knew it must’ve been a rare sight, one he’d yearned to see for a while now.

He finishes his drink, sitting his empty glass on the coffee table. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” He asks, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. As he asked that, you started to feel a change in your body. You started to feel way more relaxed, your mind beginning to feel a bit hazy. You weren’t sure why; maybe the bourbon was that good. Your body started to feel hot and you could feel a throbbing feeling between your legs. “I...I’m not sure...I...I feel kinda funny...” you say, your voice slightly slurred. Vox’s smirk widened, his eyes glowing with a devilish delight. “Oh, it’s just the effects of the bourbon, darlin’. Besides, you’ve been so stressed out, you haven’t had any time to just sit and relax.” He moved closer, his hand lightly tracing a line up your arm, causing you to shiver. “Just relax and enjoy the ride, Y/N. I promise it’ll be one hell of a time.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?” You feel your face grow even warmer as he started to pull you closer to him, his face so close to yours. “I..I guess so... You are a lot nicer than Alastor..” Vox chuckled, the sound low and rich in his throat. “Well, that’s the highest praise i’ve ever heard.” His hand rested on the small of your back, his fingers tracing small circles against your shirt. “I told ya, didn’t I? I ain’t like him. Not one bit.” He tilted his screen down, his glowing eyes meeting your slightly dilated ones. “Just relax, my dear. Let ol’ Vox take care of ya. You won’t regret it.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips against your forehead softly, something you were confused on how that worked, but that thought flew away like all the others. “Just trust me, Y/N. I won’t let ya down.”

In what your mind could come up with, as you stared at him and as he spoke with you, the thought of letting him take the wheel was starting to sound really good and you figured that it was better to trust him than anyone else in Hell. At least for now. “Ok..” Vox’s screen lit up with a triumphant grin, his red eyes glowing with delight. “That’s my girl,” he purred, his hand tightening around your waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He whispered against your lips, “You're so cute, Y/N. Just keep relaxing. There’s no need to fight it.” His other hand started explore, trailing down your body to rest on your thigh. His fingers squeezed gently, a small spark of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to moan. He knew your body was growing more sensitive by the minute. He pulled back, his screen displaying a smug smirk. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy the good feelings. Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’ll take good care of you.”

His hand continued its exploration, trailing up your thigh to rest on your hip. He dug his fingers into your flesh, pulling you even closer against him. His screen returned to your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so responsive, sweetheart. It’s...intoxicating.” He leans in to your ear, his screen barely touching it. “I’m here. There’s no need to be scared.” His touch felt so good, all you wanted in that moment was for him to touch you more. “Ok,” you said. Vox chuckled, his eyes glowing with anticipation. “That’s what I like to hear, Y/N.” His hand slid up from your hip, tracing a path up your side and under your shirt. His fingers curled around your breast, squeezing gently, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. “You’re so sensitive, darlin’. It’s so sweet.” His other hand slid down, resting on your thigh once more. He pulls your leg around him, positioning himself between your legs. He then starts to slowly strip you of your clothes. You were getting really hot, so it was a relief to get all those clothes off. Soon, you were completely nude before him, on full display. Vox’s eyes roamed your naked form, a low buzz rumbing from his chest. “Damn, Y/N. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” His hands traced over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He savored every moan and gasp, his touch sparking bits of static wherever he touched. He leaned in, his lips against your neck. “I'll make you feel all kinds of good, baby...”

His hand slid down, tracing a path down your body to rest between your thighs. His fingers teased your folds, a spark of static making you gasp. “That’s it, Y/N, just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. He then moved his face to you and kissed you deeply. You kissed back just as deep, moaning in his mouth as you felt his fingers slowly slip into your pussy. Vox groaned into the kiss, his fingers going deeper into you. He savored your moans, the taste of you on his screen intoxicating. He pulled back, a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me.” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp. His other hand was busy teasing your nipple, pinching and twisting it until you were writhing in his arms. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you...”

With that, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervor that left you breathless. You moaned more, the pleasure growing in intensity, “Ahh..mm..ohh..” Vox grinned and moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The combination of him working on your pussy and playing with your breast had you crying out, your body trembling in his arms. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Go ahead and cum for me, baby girl.” It’s not too long until you cum, covering his hand in your juices as your body tensed up.

Vox growled, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he felt you release all over his hand. His fingers slowed, gently stroking you through your orgasm. He slowly removed his hand and marveled at the wetness on it, licking it up until his hand was clean. “You taste so good, darlin’. So good..” His hand moved up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “You alright, Y/N?” You were there, still somewhat dazed from your orgasm. But there was one thought going through your head. “I...I...more...I need more...please...” Vox chuckled, “Needy little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from done with ya.” With that, he gently laid you down on the couch, his screen and his body hovering over you. “You ready for more, Y/N?” “Yes...please...I need it...” Vox’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Good girl, ” he purred. You see him take his jacket and pants off, revealing his hard and erect cock. You just sat there, amazed by its size. Could an overlord have a cock that big? Vox smiled, saying, “You like what you see?” He gave his cock a few strokes, pre-cum leaking from the tip. “It’s all for you, baby girl.”

With that, he lined himself up with your entrance, his hands holding your thighs gently. He slowly pushed himself inside you, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. “Fuuck...that’s it, baby... take it in deep..” Once he was fully inside you, he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. You gasp and moan in pleasure as he thrusts into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the pleasure consume you. Vox felt a wave of pleasure hit him as he felt your arms go around him. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out.” His thrusts picked up in pace, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you. His hand moved down, his fingers slowly rubbing your clit. “You’re so tight, darlin’. So fucking good..” With that, he picked up the pace, his cock pumping in and out of you. “Ahh..ohh..V..Vox...i..it feels so good...” you moaned, causing Vox to grin. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” He continued his assault on your pussy, pounding into you so much that you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how many times you came, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Vox to keep fucking you.

“Gahh, fuck yeah...gotta get even deeper...” He then stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, flipped you onto your belly, and grabbed your hips. “Hold on tight, Y/N. It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He lined himself up with your entrance once more, pushing inside you with a single thrust. He quickly sped up his thrusts, making you a moaning mess. “Ahh..oohh..yes...yes..I...I love it... I love your cock...!” Vox grinned a prideful smile, proud of the fact he was causing you to lose yourself just from his dick. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby. I fucking love it.” It’s not too long til he could feel his climax coming, and he felt your walls flutter, meaning yours was coming too. “Cum for me again, Y/N. Let it out.” “Ahh..mm..V..Vox..! Please cum in me..! Please..! Fill me up with your cum! I can’t take it anymore..!” Vox growled, your pleas of ecstasy driving him further over the edge. “You ready, baby girl? Ready for me to fill you up? I’ll do it, but only on one condition. You belong to me from now on. You like that?” “I..I’ll do it! I’ll only belong to you, Vox! Please, fuck me!” Vox smiled, thrusting even more. “Alright, darlin’. Here it comes...!” With one final, powerful thrust, Vox released inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. “That’s it, baby..Take it...take it all..” You cum at the same time he does, feeling his cum filling up your womb. You cry out in pure pleasure, your body riddled with pleasure. It was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Vox kept thrusting, but he started to slow down, letting you both ride your orgasms for as long as possible.

Once everything was done, he pulled out of you and marveled at the cum-covered mess your pussy had become. He smiled, and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You did amazing, baby.” He brushed a strand of hair away and he looked at you, a bit concerned since you were so quiet, “You okay, Y/N? Do you need anything?” You turned to him and he was amazed at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes looked so full of joy and bliss, and your smile was so warm and genuine. You could almost cry if you saw it for yourself. He felt his heart flutter when he saw that. Yeah, he made the right choice.

You hug him and rest your head on his chest. “I love you so much...”

Time stood still for a moment for Vox when he heard those words. He hoped that he would hear those words come out of your lips towards him, and seeing and hearing it now, it filled his heart with joy. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He let out a quiet chuckle, his screen pressing against the top of your head. “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I feel exactly the same, baby girl.” He gently waves his hand and summons a wisp of smoke around your neck and along his hand, it soon turning into a collar with a chain leash, him gently gripping onto the chain. You now belonged to him, permanently. And he wasn’t gonna let just anyone touch you like he just did.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing rhythm. “Just rest now, Y/N. Vox has got you.” You let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms, forgetting about the world and any worries you had. Vox cleaned you up and carried you to his bed, laying you on it then entering it himself. He pulls you close, letting the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart lull him to sleep.

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#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x y/n #vox x reader #vivziepop #fanfiction

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minecraft · 1 year

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#for those wondering yes this post is influenced by hoyoverse but whatever. its genericized okay #i find it very interesting how split this poll is! I'm dividing gravity/time into 2 equal sections though because i honestly fucked up w tht #given 11-12 options the avg perfect split should be around 8 and 9% each.#didn't expect nature and electricity to be so popular #or vanilla extract tbh

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danndeemo · 7 months

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What are your Agents main weapons?

YES YES YES FUCK YES I LOVE THE WEAPON QUESTIONS

Agent 3 - Dynamo roller/E-liter. Three is better at rollers and chargers, shooters aren’t really his strongest class. When younger used to play more weapons like octobrush, carbon roller and cherry h3 nozzlenose. Three has very good upper body strength and solid mass, so using the Dynamo isn’t a struggle for him at all. (I like to headcanon that using a Dynamo can require being being heavy and fit enough to get anything out of the weapon).

Agent 4 - A lot of shooters + dualies and brellas. Four is more used to shooters, most used being splash-o-matic, n-zap and potentially the squeezer. Four likes to use dualie squelchers and tetra dualies, and he sometimes plays the splat brella just for fun. Three tried to teach him how to use the dynamo but Four likes to stick to more fast pace combat. Doesn’t really like the semi-automatics much though.

Agent 8 - Hydra Splatling/Ballpoint splatling. Eight always enjoyed getting a splatling weapon on a station, he liked having the range of a charger but not have to aim too precisely. Fun fact: when 8 was an octarian soldier he was in a group of splatling users. By now, Eight is very good with his movement, I like to think that splatlings take some time learning to properly move with the weapon.

Neo agent 3 - Out of not being able to stick to a weapon for too long he doesn’t really have mains. But, his most used weapons include blasters, Neo isnt the type of guy to have good aim, so he’s that one blaster main that mains the weapon because their aim is mid and just rely on the blast radius. Neo prefers the vanilla blaster, but sometimes uses the rapid ones.

Interesting bonus facts:

3 and 4’s mains are actually based on their games’ metas. Four is a shooter main because splatoon 2’s most dominant class are shooters, and Three mains E-liter and Dynamo as they were quite famous and threatening back then

Three uses E-liter 3k, not 4k

Three can fight pretty good up close even with an e-liter

Eight has a goal of 5starring all splatlings

Four started using brella after becoming an agent

Neo likes to play the same weapon as Three whenever they play together. Unfortunately he is tall, but not very strong, so he can’t exactly keep up with a Dynamo

Three and Eight like to swap weapons for fun

Eight tells Four things he remembers from an octarian army, like certain techniques and how some weapons are different from the ones on the surface

#ask #agent 3 #agent 4 #agent 8 #new agent 3 #alex (3)#almaty (4)#hazel (8)#pero (neo)#Neo agent 3 #splatoon

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0809sysblings · 11 months

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weapons the prisoners would play in Splatoon

I primarily play ranked/anarchy, so most of what I say will be from that perspective 👍. also it's kinda obvious from my picks that I have a defensive and supportive playstyle, so I have a bit of a bias towards those kinds of weapons lol.

read more cause this is kinda long and so people not into Splatoon can easily scroll past <3

Haruka

Haruka would play a support weapon that would allow him to be as passive as possible while still contributing to the team. he'd probably spend most of the match keeping mid inked and special farming.

so I think the N-ZAP '89 would be a weapon he'd like to play. he'd really like autobombs because it'd help him feel safer knowing he can chuck one to where he wants to go and it'll reveal any sharkers so he doesn't get jumpscared.

Yuno

I think Yuno would play a more niche weapon. she'd want a weapon that's a bit more engaging than just holding down ZR, so she'd probably find playing the basic shooters pretty boring. she'd be a very strategic player, probably the type of player to like to bait opponents and take advantage of the weaknesses of their weapons. she'd be especially good at predicting what both her teammates and opponents will do.

all of this would make her a great backliner. so, I think she'd maybe like playing the Tri-stringer. it's a pretty fun and mentally engaging weapon to play if you know how to use it. she'd love taking advantage of the AoE properties of the charged shots and using them to make opponents go where she wants.

Fuuta

already talked about him, although it was mostly in a shitpost-y manner lol. but I do think he'd play the Range Blaster. he'd think the design is sick as fuck. I Know his ass would've loved the Grim Range Blaster from Splat 1 and 2.

he probably has a bit of a superiority complex surrounding the fact that he doesn't only play the current meta picks. but he absolutely trashes on the widely-considered weaker weapons, too.

Muu

I think Muu would be both an aggressive and passive player. she'll challenge you, but the second she's at a disadvantage she's running away. she probably likes flanking.

so I think she'd like the Octobrush Nouveau. not the vanilla Octobrush because I think she'd be too intimidated by Zipcaster to want to play it lol. this weapon would give her a lot of mobility, making it easier to run away strategically retreat. she probably uses squid beakons pretty selfishly, not really going out of her way to put them down in good spots for her teammates. (also I would make a Nouveau Haha French joke, but unfortunately the Japanese name for it does not include any reference to the word nouveau 😔...)

Shidou

let's pretend Shidou is not an adult with a Highly demanding job that would definitely not allow him to spend significant time playing video games. Shidou would definitely play support. he's very focused on the objective. he finds it more rewarding to help protect and backup his teammates rather than to challenge opponents on his own. he's the teammate that covers your jumps for you and always responds to callouts.

so I think he'd be naturally drawn to the Tenta Brella. the vanilla variant is bit more support-oriented than the Sorella variant which has a more aggressive special, so I think he'd probably lean towards the vanilla. he'd maybe switch it up though depending on what he thinks would help push objective best based on the map and mode.

Mahiru

Mahiru would be the type of player to just want to have fun. she probably only plays turf war and would want to do fun things and match outfits and weapons with people she gets to play with. Splatfests are her favorite thing, and she makes sure to ignore any salty plaza posts.

and so for the life of me I cannot come up with any actual weapon assignment other than I think she'd like playing around with an inkbrush because then she could draw cutesy things like hearts or smiley faces with it. she'll just play whatever will make her and anyone she plays with happiest.

Kazui

Kazui is gay so obviously he plays Splatoon. /j I don't have much to say on what his playstyle would be or what kind of player he'd be tbh... what I do know though is that he would play with stick controls because he's "an old man who doesn't understand motion controls".

maybe it's just the fact that he's very strong and has a solid physique, but I think he'd like splatlings, specifically the Nautilus 47 or the Hydra Splatling. while the Hydra Splatling fits the Strong Man vibes better, I think he'd also find the Nautilus 47's charge-holding gimmick neat and would like playing it because of that. something something it references him hiding his true self and sleight of hand tricks, idk.

Amane

Amane would definitely not be allowed to play Splatoon, or the vast majority (if not all) of video games for that matter, but... let's just pretend she plays video games.

thank you to @/laniemae for bringing up the umbrella Amane has in The Purge March MV and suggesting a brella for her, because that is what I'll be going with! I think she'd play the Splat Brella. specifically the vanilla variant as opposed to its Sorella counterpart. mostly just due to the fact that I feel like her playstyle would be safer and more defensive, which wouldn't match well with the Sorella Brella's more aggressive kit and especially its much riskier special.

Mikoto

I'm gonna give each of the 3 alters their own weapon(s). because I want to <3

Mikoto perhaps it's just the reference to 3 in its name, but I think Mikoto would play the Tri-Slosher Nouveau. he probably doesn't have that great of aim, so he'd like weapons with a wide hitbox where aiming isn't important. I think he'd love fizzy bombs, so he'd pick the Nouveau over the vanilla. and more importantly he'd be awful at Inkjet because of the aforementioned bad aim lol.

Orekoto Orekoto would definitely have the most aggressive playstyle of the three. I think the obvious choice for him would be the Splatana Wiper. although I think he'd prefer the aesthetic of the Splatana Stamper more, the Wiper is better for a faster and more aggressive playstyle. also he would LOVE Ultra Stamp.

Midokoto Midokoto is probably a player that prefers longer range weapons and would gravitate towards backline positions. so I think he'd play the Custom Jet Squelcher. I can also see him playing weapons like the (Forge/)Splattershot Pro, H-3 Nozzlenose(/D), and Squeezer.

Kotoko

Kotoko has such big charger energy. you cannot tell me she wouldn't play chargers. she's a very observant player who stays composed under pressure. she has a lot of game knowledge and can easily predict most players' movements. she probably takes the game a little too seriously.

I think the E-liter 4K would be her weapon of choice. her E-liter vibes are simply too strong. that being said, I think she'd also like playing squiffer once it gets a more aggressive kit. she's that terrifying charger on the enemy team that makes you want to scream every time they splat you and who you end up targeting the entire match just to try to splat them as revenge. she has made dozens of players rage quit and shows no signs of stopping.

🦑 thank you for coming to my Squidx Talk 🐙

^ if that doesn't format correctly on mobile im so sorry

#Milgram #squid posting #im not gonna tag this really cause. yeah.#🦑🐙🦑🐙🦑🐙#yippeeeee

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lighthearted-pewpews · 1 year

Text

purposefully dumb ooc ow hcs my friends and i discussed:

🦊‼️ shimada brothers + kiriko edition

hanzo & genji do like bbq actually. genji prefers honey bbq the most though; contrary to hanzo's favored type. it's not like they constantly argue or anything but it's up to you if they reach an agreement. kiriko's a ranch type of girl fr. for chips? kiriko's sour cream n onion (not self projection).

"oh hey guys so uh haha i got some chips for us!" kiriko pipes up, accidentally walking into a provoking conversation the shimada brothers were discussing (honey bbq vs standard??). they both turn around and look at her; the girl holding an ever-so familiar green bag—sour cream and onion flavoured chips.

hanzo drinks coke and genji has sam's cola as his fave (they're literally like the same i think). kiriko prefers pepsico products because they're sweeter to her (pepsi, dr. pepper, mtn dew). also genji would like lemon lime stuff maybe possibly indefinitely.

also hc that he probably was a soda junkie or something in his youth. over time though he kinda savors it like a "fine wine"; where he'd prefer to not have it by himself. rather, he'd drink it to complement a certain food he's having. this one actually makes sense somehow.

hanzo's a playstation person, genji's xbox, and kiriko's nintendo. basically colour coded fr. apparently also: hanzo's pc, genji's console, and kiriko's mobile. though, my friend INSISTS that genji's a mobile player (he plays mobile fortnite and probs got that samsung galaxy skin).

hanzo plays fortnite also to "practice his aim". genji (un)ironically gets all of the anime collab skins and somehow is goated with pickaxing the poor players early on. kiriko is their supplies manager and carries all of their meds and shields because the brothers are busy collecting all of the cool broken guns.

i'm unsure who'd be super good at building. i feel like they'd purposefully play on no build because "only the most talented players don't rely on building" or something dumb as kiriko instinctively pressed the buttons to build stairs as they get third-partied.

btw kiriko loves driving cars esp the fast sports ones and makes one of them sit on top of oit (since only two players max can get on it). she interrupts battles that other plays are in and has genji and hanzo pick off the surviving ones like little scavengers.

they're so good and can actually get into comp stuff, but they'd rather not since they're "lighthearted" (hanzo's upset he's getting bot lobbies and genji's getting reported for "hacking" whilst kiriko's the string holding the whole team together).

if they played splatoon obvs you can tell hanzo's stringer, genji's splatana and maybe kiriko's something supportive like n-zap whilst still having great frontline potential.

i know a lottt more about 2 than 3 actually. i'd say maybe genji would like things with echolocator even if that's more of a widow thing. i thought of reg. squiffer first but that's my main but i think mainly it's how genji can rush in and w aggressive front/mid-line squiffers you just see them go in and out of the ink, trying to kill you w either trickshots or something dumb (it's ok ily guys). also genji's ranged too as well.

maybe also he might play roller because 1: technically melee (his sword) + in reference to his shurikens, the vertical and horizontal spray of the roller can be in reference to his. or maybe he's ANNOYING and plays carbon roller (deco) with ninja squid. ninja squid.

hanzo plays pure mpu bamboozler and then shits on other players for having pure gear because "it's way more affective to have a mixed, sorted array subs instead of trying to make it all the same"/j

tbh the whole "genji, hanzo and kiriko" stuff is just literally splatoon 3 splatfests honestly. hanzo's vanilla ice cream, genji's chocolate, and kiriko's strawberry. i don't know how to explain it.

#🦊‼️#these are so dumb but honestly i don't mind #overwatch #overwatch 2 #kiriko kamori #kiriko yamagami #kiriko overwatch #genji #genji shimada #genji overwatch #hanzo #hanzo shimada #hanzo overwatch #shimada brothers #overwatch headcanons #headcanons #ow hcs #out of character

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raidenloml · 3 months

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3 from the askgane dor whichever characters u want >:]

ack!!!! ok so!!!

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

(this is a perfect question as ive been playing more splatoon 3 recently so i actually have a feel for the weapons i want my characters to use hihi + ill just list all of the ones i currently have chosen weapons for!)

turns out, this post grew way longer than i thought it would so uh woe read more be upon you

Arsenic:

Definitely Splatana Wiper as main and (Luna) Blaster as secondary, he has a quick and agressive playstyle so these are the weapons he usually goes for (also his aim is absolute dog with chargers and splatlings are a little bulky and slow for him, he can use shooters when needed but he doesnt find them interesting to play)

Link:

Probably sticks with a vanilla Splat Charger, likes to play support/backline but still pressures the opposite team quite a bit whilst staying out of fire himself. Other than his proficiency with his main weapon he probably has some practice in with other weapon classes as well. (This is because he works for Ammo Knights hihi)

I'd imagine him being kind of well known for his absolutely bonkers k/d ratio because of his high awareness playstyle but he would definitely have the dumbest deaths in practice :')

Zel:

Zel is a HUGE fan of heavy weaponry like this woman is absolutely insane about them and practices every single one she can get her hands on but her main weapon of choice in battle would probably be a Dynamo Roller or a Nautilus when she's feeling extra silly... as for why its mainly because it helps her stay physically strong and uhhh lifting super heavy weapon in practice means she doesnt have to go to the gym often

A4:

Definitely shooter class weapons, probably sticks to something like an N-Zap, Splash-o-Matic, Splattershot and Splattershot Pro but is quite handy with a Squiffer when needed. I imagine at some point A4 and Link would switch roles just before a match to confuse the opponent (very silly behaviour)

BONUS!!!!!!!! These are characters which i havent really thought of in a competitive sense or havent developed yet

itll be very messy going forward mainly because i want to yap so hard about these little inkfish thumbs up

Fern:

Fern doesn't really play that much but would probably prefer Dualies, not sure which but she'd probably switch it up sometimes

Violet:

Brella 100% (i dont know how to explain it i just feel it in my bones) her Brella would probably be decorated to the max literally her pride and joy (also known as her favourite fashion accessory as she's too busy with her job to actually use it in battle :( boowomp)

Amber: (<- Arsenic's younger sister!!!)

Brella/Bucket, i haven't really thought of her in battle but she'd probably just mess around a ton lol

Ise Rotag:

Ise was originally the character that was Link's like future partner??? their story was really nice but he got replaced by Arsenic after i abandoned the two for a few months and decided to revive Link again (you will see Ise more btw i fucking love his design and cuntyness) FOR THE WEAPON! Probably an Inkbrush honestly this guy loves to be annoying and sneak up on backliners when they least expect it, plays very aggressively as well... also his name has a really funny origin and if youre able to guess it ill uhh idk good job

I have 3 other characters but they all dont have names so uhm yeah ill just go quickly through these

oc based on coroika, inkling, probably something backline, dont imagine them in battle often

waiter, octoling, grim blaster (or so me from 2 years ago wrote down)

shut-in, inkling, new squiffer (again according to notes left to their design drawings)

2&3 were together and 1 was a sona for shits and giggles but uh theyll come back someday!! i promise!!! like their designs and relationship dynamics too much!!! they might even be Ise's new teammates!!!

#long post #<- activated all 5 of my braincells for this one #ask game #sick-ada #oc posting #took me 6 hrs to write help i got so busy

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zerosocialskillz · 2 years

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top 5 video games

Friday Night Funkin’

The mods are cool, and the canon has lots of worldbuilding potential. Like, lots of worldbuilding potential.

Ace Attorney

Yes, that gay lawyer game. The mysteries are cool, and seeing the characters interact with it and each other is very enjoyable.

Ghost Trick

The story and the twists are fucking amazing. I never played the game before (although a Switch port is coming), the gameplay is very unique.

Splatoon 3

Yep, I play Splatoon! I love how the weapon types are varied, and that each of them are flexible to any kind of play style.

I main the Flingza Roller, the vanilla N-Zap and the Inkbrush, btw, although this might change.

MO: Astray

Made by literal students, this little platformer has a unique little something: you are a slime. And thus, you have to hop around in order to move on with the game.

The lore and story is also cool, although I’ll tell you that you may need some tissues for this.

#attempts at socializing #ask

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inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

i have the warmth of the sun within me tonight

characters: takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut n fluff

notes: this piece was written with someone specific in mind, but i wanted to share it here, too!! this is, by far, the healthiest and most wholesome piece i’ve ever posted on my blog ehehe | title cred: the warmth of the sun by the beach boys

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is extremely scared of thunderstorms, v romantic, shower sex, minimal prep, slight size difference/size kink

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

It’s dark. It’s so dark it almost looks like night despite the fact that it’s only late afternoon, heavy bloated clouds—charcoal and fluffy and overstuffed with raindrops—obscuring the safety of comforting golden rays from the entire city.

The torrential downpour feels endless, and for a brief second you’re terrified it truly may never stop, streets below having flooded with the rain, cars slowly wading through them, tires spraying out streams of water as they do.

Magnificent strikes of lightning crack through the dreary sky like thick roots snaking through the foggy canopy of smoke and steel, momentarily tainting them in shades of periwinkle and lavender and casting flashes of brilliant silver light across the skyscrapers and condominiums.

Their sudden presence makes you jolt, a rapid shudder working its way through your entire body, skin pebbling with chills in its wake.

But it isn’t the lightning that bothers you—not really, anyway.

It’s what comes after.

Rumbles of thunder so loud, so violent they cause the glass windows of Keigo’s apartment to quiver and the hardwood beneath your feet to tremble, roll through the sky, and you swear you can see the clouds ripple from the force.

Arms squeezing tighter around your body, your fingers curl in the material of your—his—hoodie, desperately attempting to resist the urge to grab your phone, to frantically scroll through social media as worried eyes scan for any mention of his name, for shreds of dreadful news, for things you never want to hear.

You hate it when he has to work in storms such as these. And you know, you know you shouldn’t be watching the sky, shouldn’t be searching the splotches of gunmetal adorning the atmosphere for a glimmer of scarlet and gold, shouldn’t be standing so close to the pristine glass windows that your uneven puffs of nervous breath cloud them, tiny blankets of condensation left by the hot air you exhale fleetingly staining the surface, evaporating into nothing just as quickly as they appear.

But you can’t help it. It’s a compulsion, almost—like some sort of sick obsession, some sort of twisted addiction you can’t control. Because—Because you have to know, unable to stand that feeling of uncertainty that gnaws away at your insides, incapable of handling the ambiguity and vagueness that comes packaged with the not knowing. You have to at least try—try to do everything in your power to stay informed, and if that means facing a vicious thunderstorm head on, with your cheek pressed against the cold glass as your gaze searches the tumultuous sky, then so be it.

You can brave it for him. You swear you can.

“Baby,” he scolds gently, his sudden presence surprising you, causing you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Topaz eyes observe you, overflowing with concern, pretty bowed lips turning down, soaked strands of gold hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and neck. “How many times have I told you not to do this?” And although he’s reprimanding you, his voice is sweet, smooth and syrupy like the finest honey. “You know how much thunder freaks you out,”

You scoff, stiffening almost defensively as you turn your nose up a little, still avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t freak me out,”

“Oh?” he laughs a little as he kicks off his boots, tension easing from his shoulders with every step towards you, every step further into the warm sanctuary of your shared home, wet sock-clad feet slapping against the hardwood and leaving gleaming footprints.

“Kei,” you whine a little, gesturing his dripping body. “You’re getting water everywhere,”

“Hey now,” a playful smirk spreads across his lips, and a sudden, sharp whoosh slices through the air as his wings spread, spanning nearly half the living room. He gives them one good, thorough shake, crimson feathers trembling and sending tiny droplets of water flying. “I wasn’t done,” he speaks over your squeal of his name, smirk growing into that trademark mischievous grin. “You shouldn’t just stand at the window and stare up at the sky—it only scares you more,”

“I’m not scared,”

Vicious growls of thunder roil through the sky before you’re even finished speaking, almost as if it’s laughing at you, mocking you, your body flinching as the sounds crash over you, curling in on yourself a little, face puckered up in a wince as your words stutter, catching on a gasp in your throat.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Keigo holds his arms open wide, wings still stretched to span them. “Yeah, right. C’mere,” When you don’t begin moving immediately, he sighs again, strong hands gently pulling you towards him.

Your body melts into his touch—an automatic and involuntary reaction, almost instinctual at this point—and you slump against his damp chest, nuzzling your cheek against the firm muscles.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, arms wrapping around your body as he holds you tightly to his, voice reverberating against your ear. “The Big Bad Scary Thunder can’t get you here,”

Eyes rolling, you scoff at his playful teasing, a tiny smile materializing on your face as you pull away a little to look up at him, greeted with the sight of brilliant eyes—made of sunshine and liquid gold, you’re absolutely sure of it—gazing down at you, lips quirked in a cute little smirk.

His beauty never fails to knock the breath from your chest—it seems you can never be prepared for it; no matter how many times you’ve seen him, how many times you’ve been close enough to count the individual eyelashes lining those orbs, how many times you’ve been close enough to feel the inviting tickle of the short golden hairs decorating his chin—and you’re not sure you’ll never get used to it, either.

A peculiar mix of adoration and concern swirl in his honey irises, though you can see the mirth and amusement dancing just beyond that, thinly veiled by the love and worry.

“Oh, shut up—” another bang of thunder fissures through the sky, so raucous it makes the thick clouds waver and swell, your words morphing into a fearful little squeak, quickly burying your head back against the safety of his chest.

Fingers curl in the wet suede and you hug yourself closer to him, tugging him closer to you, body beginning to shudder.

He’s hushing you now, arms and wings curled around you in a defensive embrace as words of comfort pry past his lips, tender voice sheathing the armor of crimson surrounding you.

“At least they aren’t as bad as the ones back home, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you mumble, unconvinced, eyebrows knitted and mouth sculpted into a deep pout. “I still don’t like them, though,”

“I know, I know,” a warm hand rubs soothing circles into your back, voice only marginally louder than the next bout of thunder as it vibrates against your face, another quiet yelp clawing its way up your throat. “Shh, you’re safe, you’re safe,”

“Kei,”

The nickname escapes in a mangled little whimper, and you can feel it—fright, terror, dread—building in your chest, a strangling type of panic that weaves and winds itself around your windpipe and crushes; because they’re getting worse, they’re getting closer, growls and grumbles following the flashes of lightning almost immediately, roaring loud enough to quake buildings, your heart thudding so violently it’s almost painful. Tears sting your eyes, and you shake your head against him, as if trying to burrow into his chest, to carve out a little space in his ribcage, right next to his steadily beating heart, and live there.

“I-I take it back, they are as bad as the ones back home,”

Or, at least, this one is

Keigo doesn’t argue, all traces of amusement evaporated from his face, replaced by trepidation that mixes with his worry and pinches his features, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned as he cradles you against him. Ferocious tremors course through your form, chest beginning to hitch with swallowed sobs, and he squeezes you.

“Okay, alright,” he’s saying as he rocks you gently, crimson wings wrapped entirely around you both, shielding you from the storm. The scent of freshly mown grass and sticky vanilla ice cream is nearly overwhelming as it washes over your senses, invading your lungs and smothering you in its embrace. It’s a welcomed feeling, the beautiful suffocation it affords you with, vibrant bursts of heat rushing through your veins, whole body flooded and thrumming with a deep-seated comfort—a special type of solace, of reassurance, of contentment unique to him, unfathomable and mystifying on all accounts, that soothes your frayed nerves and calms your irregular heart—because he smells like home; not your home halfway across the world, your real home, your forever home.

“Come,” he instructs a moment later, stern yet tender, keeping an arm draped firmly around your shoulders, one of his wings curving around the limb as he leads you away from the window, scarlet feathers obstructing your vision.

—

The bathroom—comprised of gleaming marble and shining chrome—is enormous, housing a mammoth glass shower that spans the length of the furthest wall, large enough to more-than-comfortably accommodate his wings, and then some.

Steam fogs the glass, and a soft hiss slips from between your teeth as he cages you between his chiseled body and the freezing marble, cold rock stinging your already heated skin, his wings spreading to mimic his arms, providing another layer of protection and entirely immersing you in him.

It’s your favourite when he does this, when he engulfs you in his grasp and creates a tiny universe where it’s just the two of you, whole world having fallen away outside of the barricade his thick wings offer—and you’ve never felt safer.

And it’s amazing, you’re thinking to yourself—or maybe you’re murmuring it, lips moving in a daze—it’s amazing how even after all of the rainwater pouring from the sky, all of the zipping through those dense clouds, all of the vicious wind that whips against him as he soars; none of it could ever manage to wash away, to ever dull, his intoxicating scent, not even for a second.

You’re completely overcome by him, vanquished by his enamoring eyes and his saccharine smile—drunk and high off of it all, addicted to him in the sweetest way—and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

But you’re leaning into him, closer and closer and closer, lips parted as you inhale deeply, filling your lungs, your chest, your heart and veins and blood with his aura, his essence, him. He conquers you, intoxicates you, poisons you in such a beautiful way, and you’re enchanted by it, yearning for more, a greedy and insatiable craving that will never be fulfilled.

And he knows it. He knows the effect he has on you by merely existing near you—his cocky smirk and dazzling gaze tell you so.

But then his eyes soften, glazing over with something else, lidded as they slowly travel across your body bared to him, and his mouth falls open only for his tongue to suck his bottom lip between his teeth, and his fingers reach to trace your features, the curve of your cheek and line of your jaw, the most gentle caress.

“You…Are breathtaking,”

And he really does sound out of breath, as if he’s in awe from your beauty, as if this is his first time seeing you, as if you’re some sort of goddess, having descended right in front of him, and it forces chills to erupt across your bare skin—damp and splattered with tiny droplets of water that gleam like morning dew clinging to grass—despite how boiling it is between him and the steam from the shower.

It’s a feeling you can’t quite explain, a feeling you’ve never really been able to find the appropriate words for, something that makes you feel simultaneously powerful and weak, a swirling concoction of contradictions that invade your bloodstream and travel straight to your brain, infusing the tissues with the potent mix and sending tiny sparks buzzing through your veins, collecting to flutter together in the pit of your stomach.

He kisses you slowly, tonight. He kisses you like it’s his last day to live, kisses you like it’s his first time, unhurried tongue deliberately exploring the concavities of your mouth—every nook and ridge and crevice—as if committing them to memory, as if attempting to leave his stamp, his mark, his claim, on the real estate there.

He kisses you until neither of you can breathe, lungs shriveling as your chests heave, exhaling into each other’s mouths only to suck breath from each other’s mouths a moment later. He kisses you until you’re dizzy from the lack of air and he’s burning and hard and pressed up against your thigh, leaking head rubbing against the supple skin, leaving the prettiest gleaming trails of cream. He kisses you until you’ve gone stupid from his spit alone, fervent in the way you swallow it greedily, in the way you attempt to suck, slurp, steal more from him as it surges to your brain, tissues and nerves vaporizing into nothing more than a dazed mist, spiked with him.

The kiss breaks with a sharp whoosh of air, his lids lifting to reveal glassy pupils outlined with the thinnest ring of amber. Your tongue darts out from your mouth to lick and lap at the stringy, viscous remnants coating your chin; starved, ravenous, and forever unsated.

The chuckle huffed out from between swollen, saliva-soaked lips is nothing short of sinful, makes your vision blur and your stomach swoop, a murmured tease following it.

“Eager, aren’t you,”

And you want to point out that you weren’t the one practically humping someone’s hip, but the words tangle in your throat, catching on a gasp as nimble fingers slip between the apex of your thighs, an involuntary groan spilling from his throat.

“Fuck,” his head falls forward, face buried in your neck, and sucks an inhale through his teeth. “How are you already this wet?”

He’s nearly whining as he dips two fingers into you, soft little sounds that fall from his lips and sop into your skin, his breath scorching—sizzling more than the steam in the shower—against your neck.

And those fingers, now plunging into you, knuckles curling the moment they’re deep enough to press moans from your chest and cries from your throat, feel so familiar as they stretch you open—the same fingers that pet your hair and brush away your tears and feed you pieces of fried chicken; they feel like home.

Yet as comforting as that is, as much as it has your chest swelling with something so large, so dense you’re terrified your ribs may shatter and splinter under the strain, they aren’t enough. Not right now, not today.

Because even with the water hitting the tiles and the exquisite symphony of his pants and your mewls, you can still hear it, menacing blasts encroaching on you, deep and heavy and threatening to split the little world Keigo has created, the small haven his wings and arms provide.

“Please, please, Kei,” you’re nearly wailing out, forcing bleary eyes to open, belated in the way they find his gaze. “I-I want you, I need you,”

“Sweetheart,” he starts—and you know that tone, stitched together with hesitation and concern and embellished with thin ribbons of patronization. “You know you can’t take me without being opened up at least a lil’ first,”

Another clap of thunder rattles the apartment, sounding as if it’s just outside the bathroom door, ranting and raging to get in, and both of your hands claw at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away as words bubble past your lips, high and terrified and desperate.

“No, Kei, not tonight. Please, baby, please, I need you now, right now, Kei, right now, pl-please,” and you’re nearly choking on the pleads as they barrel up your throat and out your mouth, all garbled together and stuffed with spit. “I can handle it, promise,”

A hoarse whine hitches in his throat, the worried knitting of his eyebrows carving creases into his forehead. With pinched features and a scrunched face, it looks almost as if he’s in pain; like it’s pure agony to deny you. And you can see it, can see the internal struggle reflected in his eyes, stare wrought with the tug and pull between desire and care. But that need is growing, spreading, curling around your organs in a tight embrace, suffocating you with its urgency.

A final please, Keigo, croaked out in a broken whimper and thick with the threat of tears, is what breaks him, shatters his resolve to a fine dust and whisks it away in one breath.

“Alright,” he’s murmuring, though his voice is strained, tense and gruff under the combined paradoxical weight of lust and apprehension. “Alright, hush now, I’ve got you,”

Then he’s hoisting you up, and your legs are wrapping around his waist, one hand clutching the top of the glass door, the other digging bruises into his neck as he buries his cock inside of you in one swift movement, a set of relieved gasps escaping you both.

It stings a little, sharp pinpricks shooting through your gut as his thick cock stretches you open, but they’re chased promptly by thorns of pleasure that dissipate the pain.

Because he feels so good, and you feel so full, and everything feels so perfect like this—everything feels right again.

But a boom of thunder explodes through this moment, blowing it to bits and pieces, and you reflexively jump, whole body flinching in his arms.

“Shh,” he’s whispering to you as he pulls you closer, chest pressed flush against yours. “Don’t worry, songbird, I’m gonna make it better, alright? Just focus on me,”

And so you do, eyes slipping shut as his hips begin to pump—slow at first, almost languid in the way they roll forward, each thrust thorough, cock nearly entirely unsheathed before it plunges back in, the head nudging your cervix, and you revel in the delicious cracks rasps—of your name, of curses, and praises—that fall from his lips with each rut.

“S’deep,” you mumble, words already jumbled from the carnal bliss, from the hedonistic decadence that surrounds you, emanating off him and percolating into you, instantly diffusing the tension and panic knotted like thick vines in your chest—even though he’s barely fucking done anything. “S’deep, Kei,”

“Yeah?” the word fans across your face, sweet and fragrant, hazy eyes opening to be met with glittering gold, strands of honeysuckle hair stuck to his forehead and temples, framing the dark gaze watching you, pupils almost voracious in the way they soak up your expressions, almost greedy in the way they scan your face as his hips move, looking for more. His forehead knocks against yours, penetrating stare boring into your face. “Good? My baby like it?”

“So good,” your head nods in small movements with the whimpered affirmation, bumping against his. It’s already beginning to build, smoldering deep in the pit of your stomach, the spark that had been dulled when you had begged him to stop, begged him to give you more—to stretch and fill and form you like your insides were made for him—reigniting, bright and scalding.

“More, please,”

It just slips from your lips, brain already beginning to melt as you allow yourself to be submerged, swallowed and consumed by him; an innate desire that swamps your mind and floods your senses, and you want it all.

But he complies without complaint this time, void of the usual teasing remarks and requests that you beg for it, because he can see how depleted, how drained you are, utterly exhausted from the terror of the storm, his understanding evident in a gentle confirmation tumbling from his lips.

And his groans and grunts are so beautiful, vibrating deep in the recesses of his chest, louder than any thunder as they rumble in your ears. You find solace in them, gulping them in as he pushes them out, letting them vibrate down the column of your throat and collect deep in your belly, kindling with the flickering embers that burn and glow and multiply with each thrust, furling together in a tense ball of churning heat.

The canting of his hips increases, faster and faster and faster with each rock forward, the escalating force resulting in your body to rubbing against the marble and glass, tightly curled fingers readjusting themselves, slipping a little from the foggy condensation coating the surface.

You don’t even realize that your sensitive skin’s been rubbed raw from the action, too tangled up in his noises, his pleasure, his cock, to notice, too tangled up in him to care at all.

“Here,” Keigo pants out, hips suddenly stilling. A low whine catches in your throat, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to fuck yourself on his cock, a breathless snicker escaping his parted lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he’s telling you as strong arms readjust you, folded wings suddenly spanning, a gentle gust of air bathing your slick body in little goosebumps, before they wrap around him—around you—sheltering you from the glass and marble as they swoop under your ass and thighs, aiding Keigo in supporting your weight. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,”

And it’s so much hotter like this, so much more intimate like this, uneven puffs of breath mingling as his forehead rests against yours, florescent lights reflecting off of his thick feathers and tinting everything—his skin, his eyes, his hair—scarlet.

The sudden snap of his hips startles a moan out of you, and he laughs again, carmine-tinged topaz eyes positively glowing. And he looks so gorgeous like this, looks like a fucking god like this, those fine gold hairs that cover his body catching in the soft light and shimmering.

He’s kissing, licking, nipping anywhere he can reach, stamping your flesh with physical manifestations of his love, pace never faltering as skilled, powerful hips continue to pound into you, cockhead dragging against that spot with every buck.

Your legs flex around his waist, muscles coiling as the sphere roiling in your stomach blazes, curled into a concentrated ball of fire. The heat it exudes is nearly unbearable now, heavy as it sinks into your gut, glowing orb spiraling as it coils, tighter and tighter and tighter until—

“Want you to cum for me, baby,” Keigo nearly keens, almost as if he’s begging you instead of commanding, voice cutting through the dense haze your brain has evaporated into. “Can y’do that for me? Be good and cum all over my cock?”

Yes, yes, yes, your head is nodding, emitting affirmatives in the form of high little mewls with each jerk. And it only takes two more sharp pistons of his hips before the fire-filled ball bursts, half of his name escaping your throat in a fractured cry as your entire body stiffens, cunt clenching so vigorously it’s almost painful.

Words start to spill from his mouth, an endless stream of praises, sandwiched between dark groans and broken whines and hitched curses; Y’so good for me, y’know that? Ah, f-fuck—So gorgeous when you gush all over my—my cock, baby, y’feel so good, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hot, thick cum fills you suddenly, coinciding with his last choked out declaration of love, cock throbbing as it spurts rope after rope, taut stuttering hips pressed flush against your skin.

—

Everything aches as you unwind your limbs from around him, muscles sore and legs trembling as Keigo forces you to stand, propping you up against the shower wall and returning with the fluffiest towel only a moment later. Large hands pull you towards him, dragging you from under the shower head and into his arms, swaddling your shivering body in Egyptian cotton and strong arms and soft feathers.

He leaves the shower running on purpose, steady flow of water hitting the tiled floor and marbled wall, efficiently drowning out any roars or claps of thunder.

And you’re so tired, so pliant and boneless in his arms, barely able to keep your weighted eyelids from fluttering shut. He keeps you in his lap as he sits on the closed toilet, cradling you to his chest as best he can as he gently rocks you back and forth, whispering out praises—you did so well, you always look so gorgeous taking my cock—and avowals of his love, constant words oozing from his lips, sentiments cascading over your body like a stream of thick syrup.

Unconsciousness has you in its clutches, nearly slipping into the familiar embrace that promises the numbing ecstasy that comes with such an intense orgasm, until your tummy growls, and Keigo laughs.

“No, sweetheart,” he chides softly as you nuzzle into his chest, an indignant noise sounding at the back of your throat. “You have to eat at least a little before you can fall asleep,”

“Don’wanna,”

“I know,” he’s saying sympathetically as he stands, placing your feet on the floor a moment later. You wobble a little, eyes still shut, and he chuckles again, murmuring to himself about how fucking cute you are as he begins to dress you, tugging soft fleece that reeks of him over your head.

—

The rain has slowed to a drizzle by the time you’ve been clothed and fed, constant and leaking from the clouds overhead as you snuggle against Keigo in the plush sanctuary of your shared bed, tummy full and happy with roasted chicken and sauteed veggies. A deep contentment settles itself in your bones, weaving itself around the ivory in a protective glaze and imbuing you with a sense of calm, a sense of relaxation, a sense of relief, and you hum, Keigo’s lithe fingers trailing up your spine absentmindedly.

If you’re being honest, you’re not quite sure how he did it, how he slipped, slithered, seeped through the few cracks in your defence without being violent, without being forceful—how he tore down all of the barricades and shields you had built around yourself, hardened and firm from several years of paranoia and distrust, from the perpetual fear of being hurt again. It should scare you, really, how quickly he did it, how easily and inconspicuously he did it. But it doesn’t.

It doesn’t, because he did it with love; stripping those protective walls with genuity and sincerity, dismantling every brick and stone with gentle touches and soft kisses and tender words. He did it with respect, with patience, with passion and affection and devotion.

So it doesn’t, because there’s nothing to fear—because you’ve never felt more safe in your life, here enveloped by his strong arms and cozy wings, resting on his chest, legs tangled in knots together.

And as you drift off to the gentle pat-pat-pat of the raindrops against the windowpane and the steady thumping of Keigo’s heart echoing in your ears, you realize he’s your very own ray of sunshine, forever present to keep those menacing clouds and malicious thunder away, even in the strongest, the harshest, and the scariest of storms.

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #bnha smut #hawks smut #hawks x reader #takami keigo #hawks #AAAAAH ITS SO VANILLA LMAO #it's really sweet tho #i hope it brings some of you some comfort and feelings of buzzy happiness <333

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mamagaming8 · 1 year

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deanwithscissors · 3 years

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Snow Day

Title: Home Sweet Home Timestamp

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 6021 (oops)

Warnings: Fluff, feeling down, swearing, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, fingering, the softest sweetest sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, sub!jensen, dom!jensen (yes both idk okay lol)

Summary: A kid free morning causes Jensen and [Y/N] to try something new

A/N: lol when i finished the word count was 5844 and i thought while editing i’d cut it down... no it ended at 6021, i’m sorry lol. worst part is i wanted to keep writing more :’) *feedback is welcomed*

Soft flakes floated from the sky covering everything in sight in a blanket of white ice, but instantly melting when landing on the glass window of the toasty family home in Texas. The heavens had opened up over the past week and drowned the south in snow. Jade, Finlay and Aurora had been having a blast, they’d even had a few days off preschool and school because of the weather.

It had disrupted Jensens work schedule too, he’d had to cancel and rearrange a few meetings involving The Boys. At first he was insanely disappointed, but his sorrow transformed into delight when Jade said, “we have more time with daddy?”

And he’d spent every waking moment with his kids. He’d been a sturdy strong horse, until his back gave out, a moment of realisation for Jensen of his actual age. He’d been an evil villain trying to take over the Ackles kingdom, demote the two princesses and prince to his slaves, he’d been a shark who only had bloodlust for kids and he’d been a big teddy bear for them to snuggle.

It was back to regular routine this morning, well for the kids at least, they had school, however they were staying at their grandparents, the twins with Jensens parents and Jade with [Y/N]s mom, for the night meaning today the couple had a snow day of their own.

Jensens arm searched for [Y/N] in the puffy bedding, but he was disappointed to find himself alone on this peaceful and kid free morning. A slight pang of worry zapped through him, typically when she left him in bed it was because her anxiety was high and she needed to keep busy. Leaping from bed and firing on a pair of black boxers with a white t-shirt he went in search for his wife.

Bad Medicine by Bon Jovi played through the echo dot sitting on the counter. [Y/N] pottered around the pristine kitchen wearing mustard coloured socks tucked into her Scooby-Doo pyjama bottoms and one of his t-shirts which was completely oversized on her petite frame. Her feet were comforted by her favourite pair of slippers which she insisted on calling ‘booties.’ Her red hair bobbed on the very top of her head in a messy bun, a few streaks she hadn’t been able to capture dropped down her back. The too short-to-tuck-behind-the-ears strands constantly tangled with her eyelashes, she swatted them away typically, but sometimes when they really stressed her out she’d use bobby pins to clip them back, like this morning.

The wall of windows displayed a complete white landscape, the only colour besides white outside was the dark wood of their balcony and the bright blue sky. Her skin so pale she blended in, but her hair was the colour of the fires in hell. A few vanilla scented candles dispersed around the room radiated a delicate heat and a tranquil aroma, warming the house further on this bitter November day.

“A morning without kids and you leave me in bed alone, rude,” he teased as he approached her with open arms. She crumbled into his chest like shattered glass. “You okay?”

“Yeah just agitated,” she sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I was joking. Just missed waking up to you beside me,” his muscled arms cradled her like a fragile new born baby. “Anything particularly wrong? Something I can do to help?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, just anxiety.” Her embrace tightened as if he’d turn to dust in her arms. “I’m sorry to ruin a rare day alone.”

Jensen pushed her at arms length, shrinking a small amount he demanded her full attention with his eyes.

“You’re not ruining anything. If you want to lie in bed all day and do nothing, that’s what we’ll do. I don’t care just as long as we’re together.”

With anxiety crushing her chest his words hit like an out of control freight train. Lifting to her tip toes with tears in her eyes she captured his bottom lip between hers, soft lips kissed hard in desperate need.

Barely breaking contact she whispered, “I love you.”

She didn’t give him time to respond. Her lips smashed against his again, but the kiss wasn’t rushed or lust fuelled, it was velvety and deliberate. Neither one of their tongues broke the barrier of their own mouths, this wasn’t a make out session, this was comfort and security.

“I love you too,” he told her when he finally broke their connection. “So, nine full hours alone, what shall we get up to?”

“You know what I wanna do,” [Y/N] beamed.

“Day without kids, I can guess,” he smirked.

“Well that’s a given,” she mimicked his smirk. “Lets do something we rarely get to do!”

“Sleep for more than five hours at a time? Walk around naked?” [Y/N] flashed her ‘you idiot’ glare towards her tall, handsome, man-child husband.

“Curl up on the sofa with blankets, snacks and a movie.”

“That sounds like a good way to spend the day,” he kissed her forehead. “We’re not arguing for an hour over which movie to watch though,” Jensen said.

“As if that ever happens,” [Y/N] chuckled. “We’ll pick a movie in a mature adult way. Like always.”

“That’s the last time we play that game to decide anything,” Jensen moaned as he snatched the large bag of gummy bears from the counter, his shoulders tight and jaw clenched.

“It was your choice to decide by playing it,” [Y/N] accused as she gathered the rest of the snacks and headed for the sofa that they had covered in extra pillows and an oversized fluffy blanket. “Maybe if you didn’t always pick scissors you’d win. You definitely picked up your game play from Dean.”

“All I’m saying is a big badass shark is super cool.”

“And dinosaurs aren’t?”

“They are, but you always want to watch Jurassic Park.’”

“Jensen, we watched Jaws last week,” she said with a deadpan stare.

“Yeah and Jurassic Park.”

“No, that was Jurassic Park The Lost World.”

“Still Jurassic Park!”

“We’re wasting our alone time arguing over movies again,” she pointed out.

“Fine, Jurassic Park,” he huffed like a toddler.

The small table by the sofa held multiple snacks, fizzy pop, two steaming cups of coffee and a remote, [Y/N] added her big bag of popcorn to the feast and leaped onto the sofa.

“Take your top off,” she ordered, glaring up at him.

This was her way of asking for intimacy that was not sexual. Jensen tugged his t-shirt off and tossed it on the floor. [Y/N] stripped herself of her PJ bottoms, socks and booties, leaving her in nothing but one of his t-shirts that she had stolen many, many years ago, and he guessed a cute pair of panties hidden underneath. She curled into him, their flesh becoming one as they settled under the blanket.

[Y/N] rested her cheek on Jensens solid but soft bare chest. Her arm wrapped around his waist, her leg placed on top of his; he could feel her pubic bone digging into the side of his hip. Her thigh slid over his, her knee resting right by his flaccid dick. He hated to admit that he had to fight arousal and subdue an erection, due to her needing comfort and love not sex, but he always wanted her. He was thankful when she started chattering about the movie.

“As a kid I always loved the T-Rex. Like duh, didn’t every kid? But the Velociraptors are my fave now,” she said merrily as they watched the huge T-Rex eat a man in an outside hut toilet cubicle. “Oh my god, the bit with the kids in the kitchen and the raptor opens the door, wow, that scared me as a kid. Y’know, it still kinda spooks me now.”

Jensen watched her expressions change as she babbled on about creatures that had been extinct for millions of years. She was happy and that made him happy. Her sparkle which was dulled this morning was starting to shine again.

[Y/N] peered up at her husband who was enthralled in the ninety’s dinosaur movie. His sharp jaw line and slight butt-chin was hidden by stubble, the stubble that was closer to beard length than clean shaven, the length that she loved. His lips were round, soft marshmallows, slightly parted and succulent. His nose was the opposite, angled, chiselled and sharp with a slight kink.

Freckles painted his face like constellations in the sky, mostly gathered on the bridge of his nose. A small smile spread across her lips when she observed his ears, cute, but definitely a little oversized for his head. His dirty blonde hair was now darker, a shade she had to accept as brown, and was longer than it’d ever been the whole time they’d been together. And, of everything; those blazing green eyes that pierced her soul and stole her heart.

"What’re you looking at?” Jensen snapped her back to reality as he eyed her.

“You.” Her hand slid across his torso.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the best man in the world,” she confessed as her hand travelled to his abdomen.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he scoffed.

“You are to me. Beyond perfect actually.”

He kissed her forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I have you looking after me.”

“Always,” he assured her with a heart warming smile.

She closed the small gap between them, “I’m so glad I’m with you. Just you.” Her whole body shifted. “I want you,” she whispered velvety against his lips. Her glowing green eyes sunk into his equally burning jade ones. Her eager hand groping him over his boxers. “And I know you want me.”

“We don’t ha-” Jensen started, but [Y/N] placed her index finger horizontally on his lips and breathed ‘sssshhhh,’ against his jaw.

“I need you so much right now it hurts,” she groaned, manoeuvring her pelvis, gently seeking friction from his hip to envelope her swollen bud.

A lightning bolt of thirst seized her throat when her clit was smothered. Without parting tongues she mounted him and meticulously rolled her crotch against his clothed growing hard on.

“Tell me you want me Jensen,” she groaned into his neck.

The fact they’d been together for fourteen years should be proof enough that he did in fact want his wife, but [Y/N]s mind was poisoned by the unforgiving panic of anxiety, over what? She didn’t know, she barely ever knew.

For as long as she could remember she spent every waking moment, and sleeping ones too, in a state of constant fear. Dread followed her around like a stalker. When her anxiety levels were high her urges to engage in bad coping mechanisms heightened and here she was this morning, in a state of needing validation that her husband wanted her.

“I want you baby, so fucking bad, more than anything,” he told her fiercely. “Only you.”

“Fuck,” she said under her breath, relieved by his words.

Her hands had a mind of their own as they unbuttoned his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his fully erect dick out.

She curled her hand around his girth firmly making him squirm and gasp, the tip of her fingers and thumb barely connecting in a tight hold while grinding her drenched entrance over his thigh in a bid to subdue the destructive ache in her gut.

A dry heat sucked all the moisture from the air and Jensens mouth was as dehydrated as the desert as his heart rate exploded. An overwhelming stench of sickly sweet vanilla took over the room, and was only emphasised by the increasing stuffiness of the living room, the corners of the windows steaming up.

“Touch me,” she pleaded shamelessly.

She imagined his touch was as powerful as the Greek God Zeus, and she knew his sin was as dark as Hades, God of the Underworld. Jensen was a God walking among mortal men, a statement she’d die by, but despite his Holy strength his contact was sensitive and overloaded with affection. On a day like today, all she wanted was to stay in his arms forever.

A primal groan rumbled in his throat when his fingers discovered she wasn’t wearing underwear. Instead of a thin later of cloth between his skin and her entrance like he expected, there was nothing but her drenched, pulsing pussy slathering her arousal on his open hungry palm.

His heart stopped for a second and his lungs refused to expand as a fiery fever scotched his skin and rampaged his insides. He wanted to tell her how painfully hard he was, how God damn fucking sexy she was, how his true happiness was being with her, but all that came out were meek whimpers.

Unable to voice his love, he would show it to her, make her feel it.

His middle and index finger inched inside of her narrow hole while the ball of his hand serenaded her throbbing bud. She moaned into his mouth and bobbed on his hand in an easy-going, delicate rhythm as a smooth wave of pleasure tickled her toes. No one could seduce [Y/N] like Jensen, no one could send her to heaven like him, no one could love her like him. He was her lease to life.

“Fff-uck,” she moaned, releasing his dick from the vice of her hand to steady herself on his shoulders.

He could easily push her over the edge with minimum work, but he always showered her in effort, making sure to put his all into making her feel good. In all honesty ejaculating was fantastic, but making the love of his life come undone was better. That was the satisfaction he craved, coming was just the cherry on top.

“Does that feel good baby?” Jensen asked while gently scissoring his fingers inside of her. Despite their long term relationship and beyond healthy sex life, even Jensen needed reassurance sometimes.

[Y/N] wanted to scream yes, praise him all night long at the top of her voice, but she was rendered mute, only tiny whimpers escaped between her lips. Her well-manicured nails bit his beefy round shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispered angelically.

[Y/N]s whole universe stopped dead for a second as his words sunk their hooks deep into her flesh, cracked open her ribcage and pulverised her heart into smithereens.

Rocking harsher, but not faster she hissed, “need you.”

Supporting her with one massive hand, he gracefully pulled his fingers from her quenching hole and tactically coated his dick in her juices. Stoking himself a few times before mixing her arousal with the precum on this swollen head.

Holding the base of his dick he navigated her tiny frame lower, biting his lip and hissing as he watched her take him. Although he was guiding her he remained frozen, letting her take full control knowing she needed time to adjust to his size.

Her pussy ate his stone column painfully slow, but luckily patience was one of his virtues and the trepid process was just a giant unintentional tease for him.

[Y/N] set the pace with her tongue as Jensen filled her to bursting point. Grinding herself harshly, but slowly on him, her juices of desire smothered his trapped dick, he growled, fisted her hair and pulled her closer.

Grunting in her open mouth, a deplorable fever engulfed him, scorching his skin and melting his bones in its wake. Her moans between panting breaths were a choir just for him, and they grew filthier the longer she immaculately glided on his dick.

His rattling hands delicately rid [Y/N] of the oversized shirt she wore. When the fabric barrier between them was gone she collapsed onto his chest, crushing her small breasts against his smooth bare skin.

His hands were everywhere all at once, cradling her in a resolute but tender hold. Leaning back to take in the beauty of the man she loved her breath was stolen when a particular piece of his hair at the front dropped forward, slashing his forehead and bashing her cunt.

His softness pierced her soul. Each line on his face had a story to tell and only made him look even more handsome than the day they met, but he was stronger than ever now, bigger than ever too.

She loved that his softness was never lost to muscle mass, a thick beard, or, deep rumbling voice. Truth be told it was his softness that made her fall in love with him and as the years went on it only seemed to flourish faster.

She loved this man and wanted nothing more than for his raging hard on to be deep inside her while his gushing love hugged her every second, of every day, until the day she died.

“Fuck, I always thought your short hair was my favourite,” she muttered breathless, “but now- don’t you dare get a cut shorter than this,” she told him, holding on for dear life to the locks she praised so highly.

“Yes ma’am,” Jensen grinned, lapping up her oozing admiration.

Little beads of sweat rolled down their skin as they fell into a lazy, but affectionate kiss. The contours and memories of their family home fading as together they were transported to paradise in each others arms. She remained tight against his quaking body, his laboured breathing a symphony of angels emboldening her to break free from her cage of fear.

[Y/N] broke their kiss and buried her face into the crook on his neck, her embrace tightening around him. “Please Jensen, don’t let me go,” she whimpered, completely overtaken by pleasure as she continued to methodically rock on him.

His fingers fisted her hair, burying to the scalp and dug into the flesh of her lower back. “Never baby, I’ve got you,” he told her with utter conviction.

Silent tears trickled down [Y/N]s cheeks. For weeks anxiety and stress had been building up, one thing adding on top of another. Life was so jammed packed she hadn’t had a moment to herself, everything, all at once backed her into a damp, musty, pitch black corner from which she could see no light.

But this moment right here with Jensen was exactly what she needed, a way out. Safety, love and reassurance in the arms on the man she loved.

Jensens shoulder dampened and he knew it wasn’t from a kiss. Sometimes she cried when they made love, sounds crazy and the first time it happened, he freaked out. He thought he’d hurt her, or she didn’t want to do it, but she’d tried her best to explain how it was more like relief, the weight she’d been carrying around was finally off her shoulders and that sometimes tears came along too. Ever since, whenever she cried during intercourse he’d hold her tighter, pepper her with kitten kisses and whisper sweet nothings, knowing she was feeling their bond so truly deep it ruptured her entire being.

“Make it all go away,” she gently sobbed into his neck.

“You’re safe baby,” he told her, his hand sliding from her lower back to between her thighs.

She jolted when his fingers brushed over her swollen clit, a choked groan stuck in her throat as her legs buckled. “Oh J- ffffuck,” she whimpered as he rubbed her burning bud sending her into a whirlpool of bliss and glee.

“Let go,” he said gently while his fingers swirled around and around, his shaft dragging against her clenching inner walls.

Her eyes fluttered closed, unable to to remain open to look at her man as he made her feel fucking incredible. Unable to say a word. Unable to do anything, but take him and let him make her feel free.

Her legs clamped Jensen like a vice, nails digging into his skin like a triggered bear trap as she descended into a state of Grace.

One last stroke combined with the tenacious pressure on her swollen bud and the band inside her snapped.

She was hurtled into heaven at lightning speed, an unstoppable force seizing every muscle as her mind was calmed. Everything that had been dragging her down was thrown from her shoulders, his neck eating the raw anguish of emotions gushing from her screams and wails.

He kept thrusting and stroking, pushing her to get it all out, free herself of the dark figure that draped a skeletal hand over her shoulder, a constant reminder of the dread that engulfed her daily.

When her cries stopped and her body convulsed Jensen gradually slowed his rocking pelvis before halting completely, his only goal now to hold her tight.

Coated with sweat, worn out and shaken she collapsed onto his heaving his chest like a dead weight. His thick muscled arms engulfed her tiny frame in a blanket of safety.

Making her climax was obviously amazing and hot, but he preferred this part. When she was spent: unable to open her eyes, unable to speak, unable to move, or stop the involuntary jerking of her body.

“You okay?” he asked, pecking to top of her head. Although he tried to hide the boost to his ego, it was clear, but she didn’t mind, she loved when he felt good because he was way too damn harsh on himself.

“I am now,” she whispered, pulling away from his chest. “Thanks.” A soft smile spread across her face, crinkling the corners of her eyes and rounding her cheeks.

“I love you,” he told her, crashing his forehead to hers.

“I love you too,” she softly giggled as they nuzzled their noses together.

The couple remained in a silent embrace for a while, she calmed and his dick softened, yet neither moved to allow him to slip out.

Pressing flat palms on his chest she pushed herself up, the recent joy in her minty green orbs now faded. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled with furrowed brows.

“For what?”

After a short pause she said, “you didn’t finish.”

Jensen scoffed light-heartedly. “I don’t care baby, you needed that and that has me satisfied,” he told her sternly, but-” he continued with a cheeky smirk, “if you’re up for round two, how about we try something new.”

“What could we do that’s new?” She questioned eyeing him mysteriously.

“It’s a little nuts, might cause harm, but it might be fun,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Jensen what is it? Just tell me!” She huffed impatiently.

“I want you on the balcony.”

Now she was the one to scoff. “We’ve done that, loads of times.”

“Not in the snow we haven’t,” a shy but energetic smile painted his face.

“Uh well yeah, that would be new, and fucking freezing!” She shrieked. His face remained rigid, his eyes searching hers for reassurance, support and love. “If this kills me, I swear,” she said pointing a finger in his face.

A short second later her lips were on his in a tender kiss. Jensen effortlessly stood with her in his arms, deepening the kiss as he blindly walked to the balcony.

Sliding open the door, the seal of their cosy home was broken, a gust of crisp ice air nipping at their skin like a thousand piranhas.

“If I survive this you owe me,” she said.

“Owe you what?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

A bold smile took over his face, “anything for you.”

He growled into their kiss when his bare feet met the freshly lain snow.

“Cold huh?” she asked with a giggle. A plume of breath engulfing them. “Maybe too cold for your little man,” she taunted in a sultry voice.

“Little?” He said with raised brows and holding her at arms length. “Watch yourself.”

“Or what?” she asked, biting her lip.

Jensen grinned sinfully then without warning tossed [Y/N] into the pile of snow gathered on their balcony.

“Aaahhhhhh! Jensen you asshole!” She screeched when her entire naked body slammed into the fluffy freezing snow. The temperature so shocking the air was knocked out of her lungs.

Jensen buckled over backwards, clutching his chest and flashing his teeth as he cackled.

He wasn’t cackling for long though because while he was distracted [Y/N] recovered and created a beautifully crafted snowball. She really wanted to throw it at has dick, but maybe that was a little too mean, so her target changed.

The ball of snow exploded on Jensens cheek, exactly where she’d aimed. The ice filled his mouth, but melted instantly when touched by his burning tongue.

“Oh you fucking-” he snarled.

Uh-oh, she was in for it now. [Y/N] launched to her feet and bolted. There was no point really, Jensen could outrun her easily and catch her within seconds, but where’s the fun in that.

Despite there being no real fear of being caught by Jensen, the sheer act of being chased fired up [Y/N]s survival instincts, her heart thundered in her chest as she without direction dashed along their balcony.

Even with a heads start he was on her like a cheetah, grabbing her wrist, spinning her around and trapping her under his body.

“Look at that,” Jensen says peering down at his twitching hard on, “does that look little to you?”

“N-no,” she said, a lump forming in her throat.

He snarled with the sin of the devil, sitting on his heels he grabbed her waist and flipped her onto her stomach.

“Time to make sure you don’t forget just how big I am.”

Splitting her legs further with his knees, his thick hands grab her hips and pull her ass into the air. He wastes no time, fisting his dick as he lines himself up with her beautiful tight hole and slides home in one swift flawless thrust.

Her small hands crushed the snow, the heat from her body melting the flakes leaving her fingernails to dig into her already red-raw palms as a primitive growl rumbled in her chest and exploded from her mouth.

He didn’t even wait ten seconds for her contours to adjust to him before going to town, hammering his dick as deep as it’d go, his balls swinging frantically and smacking her clit, the filthy sound of skin on skin echoing off the walls of their family home.

Every time she’d slip forward, he’d pull her right back, every time her hips lowered, he’d force her higher. His thick hands smothered her hips, short nails denting her flesh as he loses himself to lust.

“How does that feel huh? Does that feel little to you?” he barked.

“N-nno, oh god no,” she whimpers as he pounds relentlessly into her abused hole.

“I’ll fuck you into the summer,” Jensen snarled, fisting her hair and yanking her head back to look at him.

She could do nothing but moan and grovel at his words. Half an hour ago he was an angel, graceful and spewing his unconditional love for her, but now he’s mutated into the devil, fucking her hard and raw, making sure to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.

How it happened neither of them knew, but they flourished as a unit, whether making love, or fucking into oblivion, making the kids or caring for them, they were stronger together.

Even when he was treating her like an object, of course only with her utmost consent, all she felt was his undying love.

“Make it hurt,” she groaned, needing to feel him, feel owned by him.

“You always want to be stuffed full of me huh?”

“Y-y-esss,” she gasped.

“Good girl, or bad, you love taking dick.”

“O-only yours.”

“Damn fucking right only mine,” Jensen roared. His open palm crashed against her ass, forcing her knees to buckle and a scream to fill the air.

The sting from his assault combined with the scorching from the snow had her on the verge of passing out. She knew if it became too much it would only take one word to stop it. A word she had muttered fifteen years ago and they’d stuck with it since: Canucks. She could count on one hand how many times she’d had to use the word, the point of it wasn’t to reach it, it was a boundary to keep everyone safe. But she didn’t want this to stop, she was nowhere near using that word, instead a different one slipped between her lips. “Harder.”

“You’re gonna have to touch yourself if I go harder, baby.”

“Do it,” she insisted, her face crushed into the snow, shoulders barely supporting her as both hands trailed beneath her body, one capturing his balls in a death grip and the other smothering her clit. “Oh God Jensen please.”

“Fucking love when you beg,” he growled as he began brutalising her fragile body. His shaft dragged across her inner walls stretching her tight tunnel to bursting point, her burning orange hair tangled in his tight fist as he yanked her head back demanding she look at him as he pounded into her.

A constant string of moans and wails bounced off the pristine snow and filled the scorching blue sky, then she’d go completely silent, frozen and holding her breath as if the mountains stole her breath, but really, just another few strings of the frayed rope snapped deep inside.

She could do nothing else, the more his thrusts hurt the further she was pushed towards oblivion. She was under his full control and it pleased her to levels that sent her spinning out of this world.

She was a mess, screaming and gargling, tears streaming down her cheeks as pain seeped into the marrow of her bones and shook her from the core.

With the torturous pleasure, the filthy grunts bursting between his plump pretty lips, his power over her and every inch of her skin on fire, she was teetering at the edge, one single strand keeping her from falling.

“So tight baby, fuck!” Jensen said between gasps of air and grunts, unwilling to soften his bucking hips as he ploughed into her to the hilt over and over again.

[Y/N]s body seized, her eyes scrunched tight, pussy clamping his dick like a vice, her chest tightened, throat closing, only allowing tiny short snaps of air to be inhaled. He kept pounding, his shaft scraping her walls and swollen head beating her cervix.

“Oh god,” she whispered just as the rope snapped. For a nauseating second, that lasted a life time, she thought she was gonna pass out or throw up. Her entire world spinning in a whirlwind of the utmost satisfaction anyone could ever imagine, as a gushing tidal wave of pleasure soothes her mind and bathes her body in a glowing warm radiance.

Finally as the storm passes she let out a deafening scream that surely came from her toes. Emptying her lungs she whimpered and sobbed into the snow, her body now limp and shaking.

Jensen could feel her pussy pulsing around his thick heft post orgasm, taunting him over the edge. He kept thrusting as she tried to wriggle away, the explosive pleasure had rendered her disgustingly sensitive and his dick was just too much to handle.

His hips froze once he’d filled her to the hilt, now his breath was stolen as his load spurted from his slit and coated her insides. He didn’t bother trying to stay quiet or dampen his true release, something that she loved. His moans were layered with love, lust and agonising heartache to be in her every second of every day.

Her heart swelled with pride as her beloved husband filled her with everything he had to give, roaring like a wild animal as he came then collapsed on top of her.

The couple remained silent, disorientated and face down in the snow, panting and groaning for a few minutes as their heightened senses calmed and the realisation of being naked in the snow hit them like a baseball bat to the face.

“Fff-fuuck it’s c-cold,” [Y/N] muttered through chattering teeth.

It was cold for sure, but Jensen had much more muscle and fat on his body compared to his petite red headed wife and would've happily stayed dick flopping in the snow for the rest of the day, but [Y/N] was a shivering wreck, her skin only a couple of shades darker than the pure white snow.

As he crawled off her body, the flaring-red perfectly shaped hand mark painted on her ass caught his attention, she was like the Canadian flag and he stifled a chuckle.

“C’mon baby, let’s get inside,” he said softly, trailing his fingers down her spine.

“I- I can’t move,” she mumbled.

Jensen laughed and scooped her up into his arms as if he was one of their kids. The entire front of her body was a deep red, some places even turning purple and blue.

“I’m sorry,” he said, staggering to his feet and carrying her over the threshold of their home, just like he’d done when they got first purchased this Austin home, and after they were married, although none of those times they were naked.

“Don’t be, it was amazing,” she muttered, laying her head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

Jensen grinned and kissed the top of her head. “How about we have a shower to warm up, get comfy’s on, snuggle on the sofa and order some food?”

“Mmm, yeah, let’s do that.”

The sizzling hot air inside the home only encouraged the wildfire that was blazing across her body to spread faster and further. She was dazed and weak, not realising where she was until the shower hissed and spat.

“Can you stand?” Jensen asked.

“I’m not dead,” she huffed playfully.

He cradled her in the shower, husband and wife merging into one as the water trickled down their bodies. [Y/N] kept twisting the knob to turn the temperature uhigher, Jensen sighing every time until the bathroom was swamped in steam and assaulting his senses.

“Babe, I’ve gotta get out, it’s way too hot,” he muttered, swiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Big baby, it’s lovely,” she teased.

“Yeah well you enjoy being burnt to a crisp, I’ll go order food.”

“Oh, I want the cheese salad baguette please.”

“Of course you do,” Jensen rolled his eyes at her typical lunch order, so predictable yet he never got bored, or tired of it.

[Y/N] spent longer than intended in the shower, her thoughts consumed with the sex they’d just had. The jitters that she’d woken up with that invaded her soul had faded. Her bones, muscles and heart were at ease and she felt serine.

She wasted as little time as possible drying her hair and slapping on a quick skin care routine so she could scurry back to the sofa and curl into Jensens arms.

He was waiting for her, Netflix on the screen, remote in hand and blanket tossed to the side, exposing a beautiful little spot for her to fit into.

“Food should be here soon so no funny business,” he smirked, pointing a finger at her.

“After today, I won’t need to get laid for a week.”

He scoffed, “you know that’s a lie.”

“Okay, maybe a couple days then.”

“Shut up, you’ll be all over me as soon as the kids are in bed,” he protested.

“Stop making me out to be some insatiable sex demon when really that’s you!”

“Can’t help it when I’m married to the most the beautiful woman on the planet,” he said with a genuine smile that flashed his canines.

“Okay now you shut up.”

He crushed her bones in a tight embrace and gently pecked her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she smiled wide, “so what’re we watching?” she asked snuggling into his chest, draping her arm over his abdomen and curling her leg over both of his.

Her knee closed in on his flaccid dick and he fought the tingles and twitches to grow and fuck her again. At least wait until later, he told himself.

“Jen?” [Y/N] said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Yeah and I’m the super horny one,” she scoffs.

“Watch yourself,” he warned.

“Or what?”

“Or our parents might need to take the kids for another day so I can rag on you with no mercy.”

[Y/N]s mouth fell open, her thoughts spinning and words unable to form a cohesive sentence that would make sense, as her husbands dark green seething eyes threatened her.

The chime of their doorbell broke the stillness in the home.

“Y-you better get that,” she stuttered when he didn’t even flinch and the bell rang out again.

“I think I’d rather stay here and rid you of your clothes,” he said, throwing his body on top of hers.

“Jen, nooo, stop,” she wriggled and giggled below him, “Jesus Christ, go get the food.” Her palms dug into his chest as she pushed him away with all her strength.

“Fine, but don’t you dare move,” he ordered.

[Y/N] watched and waited until he was no longer in sight, frantically stripping herself bare, hiding her clothes behind the sofa and snuggling under the blanket. She grinned to herself, pleased of the little surprise she had for him when he returned.

#jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #fan fiction #jensen ackles fan fiction

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

What are friends for?

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request: Hi! I loved little lamb, you're such an amazing writer!!! Can I request a piece where reader and Billy are friends and for her birthday she asks him to fulfill a smutty fantasy and he's all too happy to comply. Bonus points if reader calls Billy Lieutenant and it involves his combat gear. Love, love, love your blog <3 <3 <3

A/N: Thank you, dear friend 🥰😘

You guys are letting me live my best hoe life and I love you for it 😂

The High Priestess of the Cult of Russo blesses you all 🖤😈😘

Warnings: cursing, a whole load of smut lmaoooo

(Under 18s avert your eyes and scroll on by)

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“C’mon, Y/N. I keep askin’ you and you won’t gimme a goddamn answer. I need to know what you want,” Billy huffed from next to you. The pair of you were in a booth at the bar, your friends having all left around 10 minutes ago. You’d opted to stay since you hadn’t finished your very large glass of wine and Billy stayed to keep you company. He’d walk you home, he always did.

You pursed your lips in thought before you scrunched your face up, looking at him as he gave you an exasperated look. You were sitting sideways on the bench seat with him, heels kicked off under the table with your legs draped sideways over his legs. It was pretty much par for the course with you two.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just getting to that age where I don't care about my birthday,” you snorted, taking a slurp from your wine. You had a little under half of it left now and you were pretty tipsy. Billy groaned and rolled his eyes at your answer and you gave him a sheepish smile before looking away. Your birthday was coming up in a few days and he’d been asking you for weeks what you wanted but you didn't really want anything. Nothing material anyway.

There was one thing that kept coming to mind yet you found yourself way too embarrassed to ask him. You took another generous glug of your wine as you thought about it, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What is it?” Billy asked knowingly. Your eyes snapped to his then as he raised a brow.

“What's what?” You asked innocently. He grinned, looking amused as he snatched your glass and took a pull from it.

“You just thoughta somethin’, so spit it out. You know I’d get you anythin’ you want,” he said softly, a fond smile on his face. You chuckled to yourself, eyes darting around the bar for a moment as you nibbled your lower lip. If you were completely sober you’d never tell him, but you weren't sober.

“It’s not necessarily something you’d get me… more something you’d… do,” you murmured, lips tugging up in a wry smirk as you glanced at him. He tilted his head, dark eyes assessing you for a moment.

“Alright, I’m curious,” he drawled with a small smile.

You licked your lower lip, shifting in your seat a little and resting your elbow along the back of the bench seat, bringing you slightly closer to him.

“Okay so… you can totally say no, but you asked so I’m just gonna come out with it. You're not allowed to be weirded out or hold it against me,” you said, levelling him with a firm look. Both his brows raised at that, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Spit it out, Y/N,” he murmured with narrowed eyes. You blew out a long breath, taking the glass back from his hand and slurping some of it.

“My sex life’s been pretty… boring lately. It's always so vanilla, you know? I have this fantasy and honestly, I think you'd be perfect to fulfill it,” you said, looking him right in the eye thanks to the booze running through your veins. You watched as his brows almost flew off his head for a moment, mouth slightly agape as your words hit him. But then he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat a little as he tilted his head. His almost black eyes were pinning you in place and you idly wondered through the layers of alcohol in your brain if you'd just ruined your friendship.

It wasn’t like you thought he wasn't attracted to you, you knew he was. You’d met years ago through Curtis and you quickly became part of their friend group. For the first month after meeting Billy, he’d tried to get in your pants every time you saw him and you’d turned him down. You were flattered, he was hands down the most attractive man you'd ever seen. But Curt had warned you of his reputation and you preferred to have one night stands with people you didn't know. It was less awkward that way. It was after that first month when things changed with you and Billy though. The pair of you were supposed to meet Frank and Karen at the bar but they hadn't turned up. You later learned they'd been so wrapped up in each other they'd forgotten the plans. But it ended up being just you and Billy. You'd bonded over tequila and tragic backstories and since then, you'd been super close friends.

“What exactly is this fantasy of yours?” He asked. You didn't miss how his voice sounded deeper and it sent a shiver right through you. It wasn't an outright no, so you took that as a win at least.

“I mean… I don’t have specifics really. I have some ideas and stuff, things I’d like to try. And I don't feel comfortable doing it with some random guy, but I trust you so…” you trailed off, swishing the last bit of your red wine around in the glass. When you looked back up at him, his eyes were a little softer, a small smile playing on his lips. He leaned his arm on the bench, his hand by your hair as he toyed with it. It was something he did often and you always enjoyed it.

“Tell me what you got in mind,” he murmured as you leaned into his touch.

“Do you still have any combat gear?” You asked, biting your lip as you looked up at him. He looked mildly shocked for less than a second before a sly grin worked its way onto his face.

“Yeah… yeah I do,” he replied with a smirk.

“I have a thing for a guy in uniform, I mean who wouldn't? And I happen to know you look pretty good in it since I've seen the pictures,” you shrugged, sipping your wine. He seemed like he lit up at your praise and you almost laughed, it was kind of cute.

“What else? You want me to play dress-up, but what else you wanna try?” He asked softly. It was a valid question, clearly if you didn't trust some random guy to do what you wanted it was more than just putting on military gear.

You looked away for a moment but he tugged your hair, making you look back at him with a mild squint as he grinned at you, his brows raised expectantly.

“I’ve never tried anything… exciting. It's depressing, Billy! Its always boring old vanilla sex. I want to be dominated, I wanna be restrained, I wanna try things, you know? I wanna be choked, spanked, all of the good stuff,” you whined, letting it all out. He blinked at you for a long moment and he didn't speak, his face unreadable. You started to wonder if you’d broken him before he rolled his shoulder and a dark smirk graced his face. It made your lower belly clench. You'd never seen that look on his face before, but fuck if you didn't like it.

“Done,” he said simply, the slightly terrifying yet arousing smirk still on his lips. His eyes were alight with something you couldn't place as you looked at him skeptically.

“Really? Just like that?” You asked with a snort. You had no plans on telling him but you always thought if you did he’d say no or never speak to you again for even asking.

“Just like that,” he shrugged easily. With that, he switched topics to something else entirely and before long he’d walked you home after you finished your wine. Neither of you mentioned it again and you wondered if he would before your birthday happened or if he was bluffing and didn't want to outright say it to your face that he didn't want to fuck you.

Days went by pretty quickly and now it was the night before your birthday. Well, it was almost midnight so technically it was almost your birthday. You were sitting on the sofa in an oversized tee and your panties, watching reruns of The Walking Dead. The next day, your actual birthday, you’d be going to Karen and Franks for a little birthday get together with your friends. You yawned into your hand when suddenly your front door knocked firmly. You sat up straighter, now wide awake as you looked at it warily. You weren't expecting company at this time. You checked your phone to see it was dead on midnight before you got up and padded over to the door. When you looked through the peephole, no one was there. You took a step back feeling wary when the door knocked again, more impatient this time. With a deep breath you opened it but nothing could have prepared you for what was on the other side.

Billy was standing there decked out in his combat gear, the same kind you’d seen in the pictures of him and Frank overseas. It fit his frame perfectly and your eyes swept from his head to his feet before back up again, unable to help yourself. When they landed back on his face, he raised a brow, a smirk on his lips. In all honesty, you’d forgotten about it. He hadn't mentioned it once since it happened and acted like you’d never asked such a thing of him and it had completely slipped your mind. But now your body was thrumming with excited and nervous energy and you found your voice rendered useless.

“Gonna let me in?” He asked teasingly. You nodded, quickly stepping out of his way and shutting the door behind him. It was then you noticed a black duffel thrown over his shoulder. Before you had a chance to ask about it, he spoke up.

“Sit down,” he commanded. His tone of voice felt like someone zapped you with an electric current.

“Yes, sir,” you replied instantly, not even meaning to do it. But the way his eyes flared at your words told you he very much enjoyed it.

You moved to sit at the dining table, hands shaking slightly from the anticipation of whatever was to come. The Billy currently in your apartment wasn't the one you were used to. He dumped the bag heavily on the table with a thud and your eyes were drawn to it before you looked back at him. He was standing tall beside the table, looking down at you, his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes regarded you in a way that made you squirm.

“Here's how this is gonna go. Safeword is tequila. You don't like somethin’, speak up. It's all about you, you don't gotta just roll with somethin’ ‘cause you think it's what I want. You have the power to stop it, but while I’m here, I’m in charge. I tell you to do somethin’, you do it or there'll be consequences. We clear?” He asked roughly. There was no smirk on his face now, it was serious as his dark eyes bore into you and you swallowed thickly.

It wasn't lost on you the safeword he’d picked and you felt slightly reassured that while he was clearly asserting his dominance over you right now, he was also letting you know that ultimately, you were the one with the power to call it off.

“Crystal, sir,” you replied, a wry smirk tugging at your lips. He didn't smirk or grin like you expected but you noticed his nostrils flare slightly and his shoulder roll. He unzipped the bag harshly then and inclined his head to it. You stood up to get a better view of what was inside.

Your breathing hitched a little as you rifled through the contents of what he’d gotten you. Even when you'd asked him for this you hadn't expected him to put so much effort into it. In a weird way, it was quite touching.

“Anythin’ you wanna try, get it out and put it on the table,” he instructed. You picked out a silk blindfold, a pair of handcuffs and a paddle. You pushed some of the other things aside in the bag and saw a large black knife at the bottom. Your breathing hitched a little as you took it out, turning it in your hand as your mind ran away with itself. You glanced curiously to Billy then and his cool facade broke when a dirty smirk painted his lips, his eyes dancing with mischief and amusement. He raised one brow, almost in a challenging manner, goading you to see if you'd take the bait. You held eye contact with him as you set the knife on the table and he bit down on his lower lip as his eyes darkened.

You turned back to the things you'd gotten out then. You didn't want to overwhelm yourself and you really wanted to try these out. Suddenly Billy was pressed right up against you from behind and you felt like you couldn't breathe. He’d always smelt good but right now it seemed to be intoxicating and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

“What’re your thoughts on temperature play?” He purred down your ear, making you shiver. Your brain felt hazy with him being so close.

“I uh… I’d like to try it,” you mumbled, feeling like you were drunk or high or some shit. He growled and you felt him tense up behind you, but then his large hand was gripping your jaw and roughly turning it to the side to look at him leaning over your shoulder. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that shouldn’t have you so aroused but it did.

“Wanna try that again?” He asked in a low voice. You swallowed thickly, taking a shaky breath.

“I’d like to try, sir,” you replied softly, wondering if that was what he was after. He smirked almost smugly then, slightly mocking as his hand eased up but didn't let go. He leaned in closer and you felt your head spin.

“Good girl,” he praised. You were pretty sure your panties were soaked at this point and you almost purred at his praise. His chuckle made you think he was quite aware of how much you liked it. For a moment, he leaned even closer and you were pretty sure he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to. But then he moved away, a devilish smirk on his lips as he raised his brows at you. He was toying with you. The very visible bulge in his pants let you know this wasn't something he was doing because he felt like he had to since you’d asked. He was very much enjoying this.

“Bedroom, now. Get undressed,” He commanded firmly as he handed you the pile of items you picked.

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked, excitement gripping you so tight you could barely breathe as you scurried off to your bedroom. You blew out a large breath when you got in there, trying to stop your head from spinning. This new version of Billy was something else entirely and way more than what you thought it would be. You set the items on the nightstand, the knife lingering in your hand for a long moment. Knife play was one of the more dangerous kinks you'd been fascinated by but there was no way you'd trust anyone else with it. You turned the knife in your hand a little, admiring it.

“Thought I told you to do somethin’,” his growl from behind you startled you and the knife clattered to the nightstand. You whipped around to face him with wide eyes. He looked angry, but you knew better. Something was dancing behind his eyes that told you he very much enjoyed the fact he had a reason to assert his dominance over you. It shouldn't have thrilled you as much as it did.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you murmured softly, watching him as he stalked over to you. His hand darted out, gripping your jaw and making you look up at his dark eyes. You felt breathless.

“What did I say would happen if you didn’t do as you were told?” He asked roughly. You swallowed thickly, body running with a fine tremor.

“There would be consequences, sir,” you replied in a breathy voice. You noticed the way his eyes darkened a little and he stared at you for a long moment before letting go of your face.

“Hands and knees on the bed,” he ordered, his face like thunder as if waiting to see if you’d say no. You didn’t though. This was so far from vanilla and better than what you’d ever imagined. There was no way you were stopping this. You also wouldn't lie, seeing this version of Billy was intriguing and hormone inducing.

Your heart was hammering as you went over to the bed and got on your hands and knees. You felt slightly embarrassed presenting yourself to Billy of all people like this but you heard a soft groan when you arched your ass in the air and you bit your lip with a smile. Your oversized sleep shirt had ridden up a little and your small lace panties were now on display.

You glared at your sheets as you braced yourself for whatever might be coming your way. But then a sharp stinging erupted from your right ass cheek and you let out a mix between a surprised yelp and a moan. It hurt yet it felt good and you were confused but wildly turned on. It had felt cold and hard and you knew it wasn't his hand. It was the paddle.

But then his large warm hand smoothed over the stinging skin, soothing the burning there and you arched back at his hand unable to help yourself.

"You're gonna learn to be a good girl for me," you heard his rough voice from behind you.

"Yes, sir," you murmured instantly, like you were starting to be conditioned in your responses. He hummed, palming your ass for a moment, giving you ample time to say the safeword yet you didn't. You felt the second sting harder on your already sore flesh and you bit your lip with a moan. You lowered your top half, forehead pressing into the sheets as your thighs shook a little from how turned on you were. His hand once again soothed the skin afterwards and you pushed back at him.

The third smack was the harshest and you whimpered, fists bunching in the sheets as you felt the pain and pleasure shoot right through you. You hummed when his hand softly caressed the skin you knew would be red and then you felt him place a kiss to it and you smiled through your delirium. You felt the bed shift behind you and then his hand smoothed up your back over your shirt. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling but then suddenly he had a fistful of your hair and he gave it a tug, making you moan. He was leaning over your body, looming over you as he leaned in near your ear.

"On your back, Y/N," his tone was commanding and low but he gave your neck a cheeky nip that was in contrast to the harsh grip on your hair. Your head was spinning. He let go and you wasted no time in rolling onto your back. You hissed a little at how sore your ass cheek was and you heard him chuckle darkly. Your eyes moved to him then and you saw the way his eyes dragged across your body as you lay there. You felt your cheeks heat up, basking in the way he seemed to drink you in. His eyes connected to yours then and he flashed you a slightly terrifying smirk. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he kicked off his boots and then pulled off his shirt. He kept on his camo pants as he moved to the nightstand.

You weren't sure what he'd grabbed but then he was straddling you and caging you in with his long legs either side of you. He dangled the blindfold in front of you and your breathing picked up in excitement. When your eyes met his again, you could see he was giving you another chance to back out. You didn't though. You closed your eyes for him and he carefully placed the blindfold on, tying it gently.

It was a strange sensation not being able to see. You felt vulnerable but you also knew you were safe with Billy. You had to rely on your other senses to figure out what was going on. He grabbed your wrists and put them above your head. You felt his thumbs softly swipe over them before you felt the cold metal of the handcuffs clip around one wrist. He tugged it closer to the headboard and you heard a noise before he pulled your other arm up and clipped the handcuffs around it. You tugged a little and realised he threaded them through the headboard, you weren't getting out of this anytime soon. You didn't want to.

You felt him move away from you and you felt the loss instantly. You listened to his quiet footfalls as he moved off the bed and you found yourself laying there in anticipation. The bed dipped again but then your legs were bent at the knee, legs parted and he settled between them.

"Stay still," he warned. You were unsure why until you felt cold metal dragging along your thigh. A soft moan left your lips and you concentrated on keeping your body completely still despite the desperate need to move.

The blade trailed up your body and under your shirt. You felt it gently glide up your stomach and up your sternum. Then his other hand pulled the shirt taut and you heard the material rip as he cut in right down the middle. The air felt cold as the shirt pooled at your sides, exposing your breasts. You heard a growl rumble from him and your chest was heaving. You felt him lean right over your body, his breath hitting your ear and making you squirm.

"So goddamn beautiful," he purred, making you whine a little.

"Sir… please, I wanna see," you pleaded softly, tugging at the handcuffs a little. You really wanted to see the knife. Wanted to watch him with it. You felt him lean up once more so you continued.

"Please, Lieutenant. Let me see," you begged desperately, not a care for how needy and wanton you sounded.

The blindfold was yanked up roughly and your eyes struggled to adjust for a second. You were startled when he gripped your jaw in his knife free hand and leaned right into your face.

"Say that again," he demanded, eyes wild and dark as he stared you down.

"Lieutenant please, I wanna see the knife," you murmured breathlessly. He groaned, closing the distance as he captured your mouth in a dirty kiss. The first kiss he'd given you all night. You moaned and melted into it, willingly letting him dominate your mouth with his tongue.

When he pulled away he was looking at you like it was the first time he was actually seeing you and all you could do was blink up at him dumbly for a moment. Then he was kneeling back up between your legs. Your eyes went to the knife as he twirled it in his hand. You bit your lip, eyes glued to it and he moved it back to your shirt. He sliced through the short sleeves so he could pull off the offending material and toss it across the room. His dark eyes were staring at where the knife was touching your skin, his lips parted a little. You took in the sight of him this turned on and felt something stir inside of you knowing it was you that was doing that to him.

Your eyes went back to the knife as you felt it gently trace down between the valley of your breasts and to your stomach. You couldn't look away as the blade slipped under one side of your panties, slicing through the lace with ease. He moved to the other side then and repeated the same motion. His free hand grabbed the ruined panties and tugged them away and you felt your cheeks heat up at how his dark eyes devoured the sight of you wet and spread wide for him. When his eyes connected with yours once more, they were intense and you almost forgot to breathe.

Then he was leaning over and tugging the blindfold back down and you whined softly at the loss of sight again. You heard him chuckle and then what sounded like the knife clattering on the nightstand again. Then he was up and off the bed and you were sure he'd left the room. You felt a sudden surge of panic despite knowing he just wouldn't leave you there like this. But you tugged on the handcuffs roughly as you wriggled around on the bed. The second you heard him come back into the room, you stilled completely.

Your breathing was erratic, excited and anxious as you bit your lip and waited to see what would happen. You were sure he was being this quiet on purpose. Billy loved to talk yet he was being pretty quiet as he went about doing whatever he was doing. You were sure it was to keep you on edge and it was working.

You felt him kneel back between your legs and you sucked in a breath of anticipation. You suddenly felt something hot drip onto your chest and you hissed a little, back arching at the sensation as it cooled. Hot wax, you mused. Nothing happened for a long moment but you didn't utter the safeword and eventually you felt it happen again. You moaned softly as you writhed, feeling it drip onto your breasts and stomach. You felt his large hand smooth up your stomach slowly and you arched up at his touch like you were needy for it. You wished you could see his face right now, see what he looked like as he did this to you.

He grabbed your right breast firmly and then you felt the hot wax drip onto it and on your nipple and you let out a louder moan as your back arched. The whole thing was so sensual and you'd never experienced anything like it. He hadn't even really touched you yet, not where you were aching at least.

You felt him shifting but he didn't move completely from between your legs. Your brain felt hazy from your arousal as you lay there helplessly and waited for whatever he had planned for you next. You gasped, body tense as you felt an ice cold sensation on your stomach. You mused he'd got some ice cubes from your freezer or something as you felt him slide it up your skin. You squirmed under the cold, squirming more as it trailed to your breast. He chuckled at how much you were moving and cursing under your breath when he circled your nipple with it.

The cold was removed then and the trail of water the ice cube left behind left a chill on your skin. It was nothing compared to the sensation of a freezing cold mouth suddenly sucking on your left breast though. His tongue was icy as he lapped at it and suckled on it greedily as your back bowed a little as needy moans left your lips. He moved away and you let out a whine, almost pouting and making him chuckle darkly at your needy reaction. But then he was placing ice cold open mouthed kisses on your lower belly and spreading your thighs wide open with his hands.

You had no words for the noise you made when he gave you a teasing lick from your entrance to your clit with his cold tongue. You arched up at him and gasped as he started sucking on your clit greedily with a moan. You tugged at the handcuffs, a strong urge to pull at his hair nagging at you. He had you gasping and your thighs shaking in no time but before you got right to the edge, he moved away.

"Whyyy?" You whined pitifully. A sudden but not too hard smack hit you right between your thighs and your exposed clit and you moaned in shock. You hadn't really expected being spanked there to turn you on, yet it really fucking did.

"Behave yourself, sweetheart," his tone was warning and rough and it only served to send another flood of arousal through you.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," you murmured quietly, chest heaving as your body felt like a string pulled taut.

"Good girl," he purred, his fingers dragging through your soaked folds and lazily circling your clit. You arched at his hand, needing more but not getting it.

"So wet for me, Y/N. Bet you're needy for my cock in you, aren't you?" You could hear his smirk and you knew it would be the menacing one from earlier.

"Yes, sir. Please," you begged, unashamed as you squirmed against his teasing fingers. He hummed as he slipped two inside of you and you gasped, mouth falling open.

He was still teasing, fucking you at painfully slow pace with them as you moaned and pushed back onto them more, making him groan.

"Beg for it, sweetheart. Tell me how much you want this tight pussy to take my cock," he demanded roughly.

"Billy, please. I don't want it, I need it. Please fuck me, just fucking destroy me," you pleaded wantonly. You figured your desperation was enough for him because he didn't punish you for using his name. In fact, he moaned at your words and his fingers suddenly left you. You felt him moving around, heard him unzipping his pants and practically rip them off rapidly.

Then you were gloriously full with a large and thick cock in one swift movement and you let out a keening moan that blended with his deep groan. His large hands gripped hold of your hips roughly as he started railing into you like his life depended on it. You'd never been fucked quite like this before and your whole body was jostling from the force of it. You were moaning like a bitch, the noises tumbling from your lips without consent but you didn't care. His own pleased noises only heightened your pleasure and your back arched as you met each thrust.

A dirty moan left his mouth and you felt him lean over you, felt the bed dip on your left side and then felt him lift your right leg and hitch it over his hip, spreading you even further. It seemed to make him go in deeper and you tugged at the handcuffs as you felt the need to find purchase on something as he fucked you at a savage pace. His moans were right in your ear now and you squirmed on his cock, making him growl and pick up his pace.

You were already teased beyond comprehension and your moans got higher and higher the closer you got. You felt like you were dangling on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the moment you went careening off the edge. Another hard and deep thrust later and you were free falling. Your moans seemed to bounce off the walls as your back arched so much you'd probably look possessed. The hand on your thigh moved to your throat then, slender fingers applying some pressure as he fucked you. A second orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere with that and you cried out as you writhed on his cock. His fingers tightened around your throat a little as he rut into you harder, sinful moans turning into feral growls as his thrusts got more erratic

You were floating on cloud nine when he let out a deep groan, hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside of you. His body sagged, leaning on you a little as he rested his head on your shoulder. You'd never felt this thoroughly fucked before and you were sure your brain had melted. You whined softly when he pulled out of you and you felt him move around. You felt the pressure on your wrists release and then the handcuffs being removed. He kissed the skin there softly and you smiled sleepily to yourself. Then the blindfold was gently being pulled away from your face.

You hummed softly, forcing your eyes to open when you felt him lay down next to you. You squinted them as you blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the light once more. You rolled into your side to face him and you were sure you were glowing. He was already looking at you and he gave you a dopey grin, making you snort softly.

"Enjoy yourself?" He asked wryly. He had a slightly smug tone to his voice and you were sure it was because he knew damn well you did.

"That was… the best birthday gift ever. You're uh… really good at the whole… sex thing," you murmured with a stupid smile, brain still not quite working. Something flashed behind his eyes at your praise and his smirk widened.

"The sex thing, huh?" He asked, amused.

"Shut up, you fucked the brain out of me," you protested with a whine. He laughed, shaking his head as he moved to lay on his back.

You watched him, fully expecting him to get up and leave now he'd fulfilled what he came for. Instead, he shot you a smile as he pat his chest, raising a brow at you. You wriggled over to him before laying your head on his chest, curling around him. His arms came around you then making you feel safe and you smiled to yourself. He stroked your hair softly as your eyes fluttered closed.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he murmured sleepily. You hummed in response, already on the cusp of sleep after what he'd done to you. You had no idea if he'd be there in the morning and you'd worry about getting clean then too. Right now your body needed rest. You drifted to sleep feeling exhausted and like you were floating on a cloud.

Taglist:

(If you asked to be added but aren't here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people for some reason)

@sam-hollandsgirl

@xceafh

@ssll2200

@traditional-morrigan13

@juniebugg

@xonickibaby

@lillianastras

@aleksanderwh0r3

@i-g-n-o-r-e--m-e

@itsallaboutkey

@papiazullll8

@not-too-tall-for-trick

@dontjinx-it

@kaleidoscopegirl

@voyevoda-thejoy

@s-corpionem

@blanchedelioncourt

@elleatrixlestrange

@strawb3rrydr3ss

@odetostep

@crowssixof

@katedrexel

@primadonnasdream

@fortheloveofallthatsholy

@supernaturalcat7

@honeyshores

@tanyaherondale

@acourtofsnakes

@weallhaveadestiny

@tomhollandisabae

@carnationworld

@nemesis729

@advictedtohim

@lady4punk

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@kassandra-of-troy

@blackbirddaredevil23

@nebulastarr

@ilkaeliseb

@runawayolives

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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howtosingit · 3 years

Text

Fic: And Every Birthday After

TK makes a decision about his relationship with Carlos.

AU after 1x05.

3K | Also on AO3

A/N: This is up a day later than I wanted it to be, but considering it’s the first thing I’ve written in two months, I’m still going to take it as a win. Happy reading!

- - - - -

TK climbs out from the car, his eyes on his phone as he shouts a quick “thank you” over his shoulder to his Uber driver before closing the door behind him. The car pulls away from the curb as he glances up at the glowing Austin Police Department sign before him, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth while he thinks about what he wants to do next.

With another look down at his phone to check the time, he nods, turning his back on the precinct to cross the street. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for: Carlos’s blue Camaro draws attention no matter where the police officer parks it.

TK gently runs his fingers along the shiny, unblemished surface, his attention divided between the car in front of him and the building across the street. Carlos should be appearing any moment, fresh off his shift, and TK smiles as he leans back against the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest, trying to adopt a casual pose. He can practically hear Carlos’s laugh now, his brain supplying him with the memory of the last time he failed to casually lean against the Camaro, while they waited for Paul outside the 126.

(TK thinks that just because Carlos has perfected the art of a casual lean, he shouldn’t get to laugh at those who are still learning.)

“TK?”

He’s so lost in his memories of that night - dancing close to Carlos in the club and sneaking kisses whenever the lights left them in the shadows - that he misses when the man himself appears right in front of him. TK jumps when he hears his name to find Carlos already halfway across the street, heading right for him.

“Hey there, officer,” he calls.

“What are you doing here?” Carlos asks, and TK’s eyes shift down just in time to see Carlos hide a giant green gift bag behind his back. “I thought we were meeting a little later.”

“We were, but I got out of work earlier than I planned and thought I’d surprise you.”

TK waits for Carlos to come a little closer, maybe even give him a kiss the way he usually does, or at the very least a smile, but the officer does none of those things. Instead, Carlos stops a few feet away from him, his beautiful brown eyes wide as he presses his lips together in a tight line. TK notices the gift bag peeking out behind his back, fidgeting in his fingers. “Did someone get you a gift?” TK asks, breaking the weirdly awkward silence with his mounting curiosity.

Carlos freezes for a nearly imperceptible moment, looking like he’s been zapped by his own stun gun, before he lets out a sudden high-pitched laugh, his face morphing into a mask of forced normalcy. “Oh, this?” he asks, pulling the bag out from behind his back. TK watches as his eyebrows furrow - truly an adorable sight - as Carlos glances between the bag and TK. “This is from my boss, for Employee Appreciation Week.”

A smile suddenly appears on Carlos’s face as he steps closer, swinging the bag at his side before wrapping an arm around TK’s waist and pulling him in. TK goes willingly, his brain still trying to catch up to Carlos’s abrupt mood shift, and lets Carlos press their lips together in a chaste kiss.

“Thank you for surprising me,” Carlos murmurs against his mouth. “Seeing you was exactly what I needed after today.”

“Long shift?”

Carlos hums in reply, stealing another quick kiss before backing away to pull his keys from his pocket. “Something like that.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” Carlos admits. TK notices the way his eyes are twinkling under the streetlights. “Right now I’m starving. Did you finally decide on a place to eat?”

“What do you think of that Greek place on Lavaca?”

“I think,” Carlos starts once they’re both in the car, tossing the gift bag in the back seat before leaning over the console to invade TK’s personal space, “that if that’s what you want, then that’s exactly what I want.”

TK lets out a breath at Carlos’s claim, a feeling of contentment running through his body from head to toe. He feels Carlos’s hand on his cheek, his breath on his face. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

“You’re kind of sickeningly sweet, you know that?” TK teases, pressing forward to steal another kiss.

“That doesn’t sound like a complaint,” Carlos fires back, his eyes crinkling as a cocky smile takes over his face.

“You’re far too confident.”

“Now I know that’s not a complaint,” Carlos smirks, his eyebrows practically dancing.

“Shut up,” TK whispers, claiming Carlos’s lips again to ensure that he does just that.

- - - - -

“No, I’m telling you, Paul actually said that, no hesitation whatsoever. It was pretty badass.”

“Sounds like it. Though, I’m guessing Marjan didn’t really appreciate it, did she?” Carlos asks, pulling the front door closed behind him as TK flips on the light before toeing off his shoes.

“Oh, she definitely did not. I kind of thought flames were going to shoot out of her eyes, she looked so pissed.” He flops down on the couch, pulling his feet up to get comfortable.

“I know I’ve only met her on calls, but I can still picture that face so perfectly,” Carlos laughs, cutting through the room to the kitchen, where he drops his gift bag on the counter before opening the refrigerator. “I have cake for dessert, if you want any?” he asks, glancing back over at TK.

“Oh my god, yes,” TK moans, pulling himself off the couch and towards the alluring appeal of something disgustingly sweet. He drops his phone on the table before taking a seat on one of the barstools, watching as Carlos pulls out a small chocolate bundt cake before reaching into the freezer for a pint of vanilla bean ice cream. He flits about the kitchen with a casual ease that TK is more than happy to observe, his eyes drawn to his striking figure. There isn’t a single part of Carlos that TK doesn’t like, and he knows he could sit and watch the other man every minute of every day and never get bored.

He gives himself a little shake, trying to clear his head, and his eyes land once again on the gift bag sitting on the counter next to him.

“So,” he starts, his tone laced with curiosity, “what exactly does APD give their best patrol officers for Employee Appreciation Week anyway?” He smirks, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure it’s got nothing on AFD, we all know firefighters have you badges beat.”

It’s not something he really believes in - the whole firefighters versus police officers rivalry - but that doesn’t mean that he and Carlos don’t like to joke about how they’re “sleeping with the enemy” every now and then. It’s even made for some very satisfying, competitive moments in bed, though they’re always followed by laughs and kisses and comments about how ridiculous it all is.

TK turns back to Carlos to find him completely frozen for the second time tonight, the ice cream scoop clutched firmly in his hand with ice cream melting down the sides as he looks from the bag to TK.

This time, TK doesn’t let it go unnoticed.

“What is it with you and this gift?” he asks, reaching out to flick the bag with his finger. “You’ve been acting weird about it all night.”

Carlos swallows, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he drops the scoop back in the carton.

“I lied to you.”

TK stares at him across the counter, taking in the tense set of his shoulders. It’s been awhile since Carlos was this uncomfortable in front of him, and he really doesn’t like it.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, having no idea where this is going.

“This,” Carlos says, pointing to the gift bag as he circles around the island to stand next to TK, “is not a gift for Employee Appreciation Week.”

“Okay, what is it then?”

Carlos stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide, before nodding and taking a deep breath, looking like he’s about to jump off a cliff.

“It’s a birthday present.”

“I don’t understand what…” TK trails off, his confusion disappearing as his brain works to put all of the pieces together: the gift bag in front of him, the chocolate cake and ice cream sweating a few feet away. His mouth goes dry, his heart hammering in his chest. His gaze darts back to Carlos, standing in front of him looking a little terrified but also a little eager, like he’s waiting to see what happens next. “It’s your birthday?” TK asks, his voice tight and barely more than a whisper.

Carlos nods.

“Oh my god, Carlos, it’s your birthday!” TK exclaims.

“It is, it is, but it’s fine, it’s nothing, it’s not a big deal,” Carlos rushes to assure him, reaching out to take his hands in his own.

“Not a big deal? It’s your birthday!” TK cries, trying to figure out what to do with this new information. His brain unhelpfully supplies a detail he had forgotten. “Wait, you’re the one who said we should get dinner together tonight,” TK reminds him.

“Yeah, we both had the night off and I wanted to see you,” Carlos mumbles, staring down at their fingers, intertwined between them. TK feels his breath stutter in his chest.

“You wanted to spend your birthday with me?” TK hedges, the words uneven as his heart threatens to choke him from where it’s become lodged in his throat.

Carlos wordlessly shrugs, a complete inversion of his confident attitude from just a few hours ago. TK takes a moment to appreciate how layered he is, how he sometimes feels like a million people in one, but how he’s still always Carlos, no matter what. “I like spending as much time as possible with you,” Carlos states, still not making eye contact.

TK lets the words roll through him, feeling the way they light up every single nerve ending in his body. He’s surprised to find that they don’t scare him like he thought they would. Ever since the failed dinner date, they’ve both been careful to keep things from getting too serious. They’ve been having fun, hanging out and exploring Austin before coming back to Carlos’s place to roll around in bed together. They’re friends - TK is sure that Carlos is his best friend - and they’re a little bit more than that.

Maybe TK’s finally ready to face the reality of what that could mean.

He thinks about finding out about his dad’s cancer diagnosis a few weeks ago, and how Carlos was the first person he ran to with the news. He remembers how Carlos talked him down from his uncontained anger and hurt, how he held him tight when he cried.

Carlos was there for him when he needed him. TK’s only known him for a few months, but Carlos has always been there, strong and steady and grounding. A beacon of safety and comfort.

And TK knows that he wants to be there for Carlos in the exact same way. He honestly can’t imagine being anywhere else, now that he really thinks about it.

“Come here,” he says, tugging gently on Carlos’s hands to pull him closer, opening his legs for Carlos to stand between them. Carlos lets out a sigh, moving to place his hands on TK’s waist when TK wraps his arms around his shoulders. They rest their foreheads together, taking a moment to stare at each other, truly open and honest for maybe the first time.

“Happy Birthday, Carlos,” TK whispers, waiting for Carlos’s smile to break through his frown before leaning in to steal it from his lips.

His breath catches again as their tongues tangle, their bodies sinking into each other as they give into their embrace. Every kiss with Carlos is worth writing a poem about, if TK was the type of person to write poetry, but this one would definitely inspire TK’s best work. He has a feeling that it’s because of him; he knows that Carlos gives his everything every time, but it’s TK who is now meeting him there with his whole heart. It’s like the wall that he’s put up has fallen away, crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. Honestly, TK can’t even be bothered; no wall stood a chance against Carlos Reyes anyway.

Carlos pulls away much sooner than TK thought he would, and as his eyes blink slowly open, he finds the other man staring at him, his brows furrowed once more.

“Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?” Carlos asks, his voice tight.

“No,” TK assures him immediately, reaching up to cup Carlos’s face in his hands. He feels the way Carlos sinks into his hold, letting him take some of his weight, like he trusts TK to keep him upright. “I’m not mad, Carlos. Though, I do wish I would’ve known.”

“I know,” Carlos sighs, reaching up to grip his wrists, dragging his thumbs along TK’s skin. “I know, I should’ve told you. It just… I didn’t want to make it a whole thing, spending my birthday together. I didn’t want to freak you out, I know you’re not looking for that kind of thing, I know this is just us having fun and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything…” Carlos trails off, his grip tight as if he’s scared TK will jump up and run out of the house again.

TK feels Carlos’s fear as if it’s hammering against his heart, but he definitely can’t blame the other man for his thoughts. Their past mistakes are all the evidence he needs to understand why Carlos hid this from him. He nods, biting his bottom lip, trying to figure out how to make it clear that he feels differently now, that he actually wants this to be a whole thing. That they’re on this path together now.

The idea comes to him so suddenly that he almost barks out a relieved laugh. Instead, he smacks a quick kiss against Carlos’s lips before jumping up from the stool, watching as Carlos’s eyes widen in panic.

“Wait, what-”

“I think I know how to make sure this never happens again,” TK interrupts, continuing to hold Carlos’s face in his hands as he backs him up a few steps towards the dining table. He pushes Carlos against it, taking pleasure in the way the other man automatically widens his stance, allowing TK to step between his legs and press their hips together. Without a word, he reaches down to grab his phone, smirking as he brings it up between their faces.

“There,” TK says a moment later, turning his phone to show Carlos, who has stayed silent and slightly terrified this entire time, if his face is anything to go by. He looks over at the screen. “Now I’ll never miss your birthday again.” TK can tell the moment that he processes what he’s seeing, watching as Carlos’s face softens and his arms come up to wrap around his waist.

“You want to remember my birthday next year?” Carlos clarifies, and TK is surprised to see tears in his glassy brown eyes. He tosses his phone back down on the table, reaching up to run his fingers along the stunning features of Carlos’s face.

“Babe,” he says, testing out the word for the first time and thoroughly enjoying the way it causes Carlos to vibrate against him, “I want to remember everything about you.”

There’s barely any warning before Carlos is on top of him, their lips attached once again as Carlos lays claim to him like a man unleashed. TK gives it all back to him, the two of them speaking paragraphs in touches and tastes and sighs and moans. There’s no holding back, not anymore.

When they are finally forced to pull back for air, TK takes pride in Carlos’s disheveled appearance, his curls wild and his face flushed and his lips bruised. He knows he probably looks the same, and he loves seeing the proof of their want and desire and need for each other with his own two eyes. He drags his fingers along Carlos’s plump lips, realizing for the first time that they are his to kiss, for as long as Carlos will let him.

“This is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” Carlos sighs, and TK meets his eyes to find them blown black but fixed on him, his gaze never wavering.

“While I am obviously very glad to hear that,” TK begins, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his favorite lips again, “you should see what kind of birthday gifts I give when I’ve had time to plan them. I can promise you, you’re not ready for next year.”

“I’m ready for anything, as long as I’ve got you,” Carlos says without hesitation.

TK groans, falling forward to press his face into Carlos’s neck, feeling the vibration of his soft chuckle against his cheek. “You’re so sickeningly sweet, I can’t stand it.” Carlos merely hums, dragging his hands up and down TK’s back to soothe him.

They stay like that for a few moments, just enjoying the way they get to hold one another, before TK pulls back to give Carlos a look.

“Speaking of sickeningly sweet,” he teases, his fingers dancing along Carlos’s thighs on either side of him, “what do you say we take that cake and ice cream upstairs and unwrap some other presents, birthday boy?” He finishes the suggestion with a raise of his eyebrows, watching as the blush on Carlos’s face deepens before he lets out a loud, bright laugh, the two of them falling into each other as they struggle to remain upright against the table.

And TK decides that this, right here, being deliriously happy in Carlos’s arms, is everything that he could ever want or wish for.

On this day, and every birthday they’ll spend together after.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing

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cutiepatoodie · 4 years

Text

Floo Powder and Charades P.1

Y/N floo’s to the Burrow after a massive fight with their mother, they find themselves in the middle of the weekly Weasley family game night

Pairing: Fred Weasley x GN Reader

Warnings: abusive mother, angst, also tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2k

Cross posted on ao3

You slam your door and crumple into a ball, silent sobs wracking your small body as you fight to keep them back. The urge to scream rises in your throat and you fight it back, tamping down on your fear to better hide from her. But it doesn’t seem to matter, you can hear footsteps pounding up the stairs, heavily beating in time with your rabbit-like pulse, closing in on your bedroom. And you can feel it automatically kick in, mind working to calculate how long you have before she reaches you, whether you can escape, where you can escape but-

“Y/N L/N get your ungrateful ass down here you little shit.” And you can hear her heavy breaths, dragged in through bared teeth, lips curled in a snarl. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

And you almost want to laugh because this seems like anything but talking.

“After everything, I've done for you and you have the gall to disrespect me? Get out here filthy bitch!” The door rattles as her heavy-handed fist fights to twist the doorknob, violently slamming it back and forth as the locking mechanism holds true. “Open the goddamn door or else I'm knocking it down myself!”

Stumbling away from your door you know that there is no escape. Your mom is going to force her way in no matter what you do to stop her. Fresh waves of tears were making rivers down your cheeks but the idea of wiping them seemed too exhausting, mind already resigned to your inevitable fate. Blearily looking around you remembered the small box you kept on the mantle on the other side of your room that Ron had given you for your birthday. Instinct takes over and struggling to overcome your leaden feet you rise, stumbling to the boarded-up fireplace. Your hands grip the wood and try to pry the boards away, mind desperately catching onto the sliver of hope. This was your only chance to get out of this house. Having to go to Azkaban for improper use of magic at this point seemed better than staying locked up in her house.

The banging on your door was getting louder and more repetitive and as your nails scrabble to find purchase on the aging wood, digging in with the strength of survival fueled desperation. Finally, after what felt like forever you hear a crack and one of the boards break giving you more leverage to take down the rest and you clear just enough for you to climb through.

“What’s all that noise in there? Y/N open the fucking door.” And finally, the lock gives way with a groan as your mother bursts inside, hair tangled and chest heaving, flexing with rage and fury. This is it, she’s finally going to kill me this time. The small box heavy in your hands is the only thing grounding you. The thought of your mother crossing into the only place in the house you felt remotely safe from her taunts and screaming makes your chest tighten, breath leaving your lungs in a panicked whoosh. You can barely feel your fingers as they fumble with the box’s delicate clasp revealing the small amount of glittering powder inside. Throwing the powder into the hearth you choke out a small “the burrow” before being zapped into the floo network.

And even before the flames have properly cleared you can smell farmland, the rich, earthy scent of hay, grass, and freshly turned soil laden underneath the softer scent of warm vanilla, cinnamon and something uniquely home. There were so many voices. Blending together, some words appearing clearer than others.

“Not knowing how to dance!”

“Good one Georgie but I’d say He’s outrunning a Moose!”

“Maybe he’s trying to swat a fly?”

“What if Dad’s trying to play quidditch?”

“It’s probably some muggle thing anyway. Do you know what he’s on about Harry?”

“Uhhh, it could be… Y/N?” Harry yells, astonished, while looking straight at the fireplace where his friend had just appeared.

“What do you mean Harry? Y/N is staying with their mother over the break.” Hermione is quick to reply as silence falls over the living room. Everyone turns towards the fireplace to see you caught like a deer in headlights, disheveled and unexpected in the Weasley’s living room.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know where else to go. I can floo back home. You know what nevermind, I can just leave. Where do you keep the Floo Powder?” You were rambling now going off apologizing for coming in unannounced. You know your voice is cracking and fighting against the fresh sting of tears that prickle at your eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry darling you can be on the twin’s team. Arthur was just about to tell us if we had won or not.” Molly’s voice is so soft and comforting. She gestures to the open spot between her and Fred in front of the couch. Without much thought, your legs bring you there sitting down, back pressed to Hermione’s legs as she reaches down to put a kind hand on your shoulder. Molly pats your knee with reassurance and the game continues.

“All of you were wrong, I was swimming!” Arthur announces, pleased to have won the round.

“If that’s how you swim it’s no wonder we never go to the beach.” Fred chortles, clutching his stomach and leaning into George for support. The familiar tug of a smile pulls at your lips and soon enough you are laughing the tension out of your muscles. As the beams from the setting sun started to cast a peachy pink glow around the room Molly stands up and excuses herself and Arthur to start putting dinner together. A familiar tension grew thick in the room. No one wants to be the one to bring it up but everyone is thinking it so Ron finally speaks up.

“Who’s up for a quick scrimmage in the backyard before dinner? We’ve probably got another two hours before the sun sets.” The seven of you make your way to the shed in the back yard to grab the brooms. Upon reaching the doors Harry pulls you aside.

“Hey, I know I’m not the best with feelings but… if you need anything, from any of us, we’re here.” Harry awkwardly pats you on the back, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks, Harry, but really I’m okay. I’m just stressed about that potions project Snape assigned for us to have done when we come back in April and I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t the only one going crazy over it.” You let out a breathy laugh and Harry can see that the smile plastered on your face in no way reaches your eyes. He looks at you, seeming to weigh the worth of calling you on your shit before relenting with a huff. “Yeah Snape never misses a chance to be a damn prick.” You know that he doesn’t believe you, but it does not matter since he’s not pushing it.

The teams were decided, Ginny, Ron, and Harry, against you and the twins. Hermione was reffing and made sure to agree to settle any fight that came up over scorekeeping. The three on three went on for about an hour before Fred caused a distraction so that you could catch the snitch. Returning down to earth your knees buckled and you decided to lay on your back for a bit before standing up again. Everyone followed suit, laying in the fresh grass covered in drying sweat and a few scrapes and bruises.

“I can’t believe we beat the famous Potter in a game Y/N. You have to tell Cedric that when you go back to practice.” Fred said, lazily punching your shoulder. You didn’t mean to flinch. It was an accident but by how tense Fred was on the grass beside you, it was obvious he had noticed.

“If you’re going to ask if I’m okay, just don’t. You did nothing wrong, okay Freddie?” Your voice felt distant as you tried to reassure the lanky beanpole to your left. You sat up feeling a bit more clear headed and yelled. “I call the first shower!” before running back into the comfort of the Burrow.

The water rolled off your body as your muscles finally were able to relax. The familiar sounds and smells of the Burrow were doing wonders for your anxiety. You poured some soap into the palm of your hand and absentmindedly scrubbed dirt from your skin. While washing your mind began to wander through the events of the day. Thoughts of your mother tried to creep back in but suddenly there was a banging on the door as it swung open.

“Close the curtain Y/n I need to take a leak and Georgie is taking forever downstairs.” Fred called before the sound of a zipper rang through the bathroom. Your heart was pounding as you tried to bring yourself back to the world around you. The toilet flushed and the sound of the sink was barely audible through the beating of your heart. The doorknob started to turn and before your brain could catch up the words were out of your mouth.

“Can you stay?” It came out so softly Fred could have sworn he made it up. His cheeks dusted pink and thank goodness for the obnoxious shower curtain Molly insisted on putting in their bathroom which covered him from your gaze. He cautiously sat on the toilet seat afraid that if he made too much noise you’d try to push him away again.

“Do you want me to ask around for some clothes you can change into? I mean if it were me I wouldn’t want to put my quidditch clothes back on.” Fred scratched the back of his neck staring down at the floor.

“Oh yeah I didn’t even think that far ahead to be honest. I mean if it's okay just like a hoodie and a pair of shorts would be awesome. I’m almost done in here anyway.” Your voice sounded more like you than it had all day. Fred released a breath he did not realize he was holding. He just wanted you to feel safe.

“Yeah of course! I’ll uhh go and grab some clothes and a towel and uhh yeah meet you back downstairs when you're dressed is that okay? I know that you wanted me to stay but I kind of have to leave if you want me to get ya some clothes. Or I mean I can always text Gin and see if she can bring some….” Fred devolved into muttering about what the most effective way to grab you some clothes and not leave you alone longer than is comfortable.

“Freddie it’s okay, I’m not going to break. Your room is right across the hall and I already have a towel in here with me.” Hearing the teasing smile in your voice calmed down his nerves. Why did he feel so nervous anyways. You had been around the burrow for a while and it shouldn’t be making him this nervous. With a quick be right back he slipped out of the door. Grabbing a pair of shorts and his newest Christmas sweater his mother knitted for him last year he padded back to the bathroom. The water wasn’t running anymore so he figured he probably should just set the clothes outside.

“Hey Y/n I’m just gonna put these outside the door. So uhh whenever you're ready I'll see you downstairs.” He placed the clothes in a neat pile and scuttled to the head of the stairs.

Pulling Fred’s sweater over your head made you feel way calmer than you first had expected to. It was warm and cozy and smelled of firewood and smores. It was quite big on you but that did not matter. Drying your hair one last time with the towel you left the bathroom hearing the voices of your friends from all the way down on the main floor. A smile spread to your lips knowing that no matter what happened next did not matter because right now you felt safe.

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #harry potter #harry potter fic #fred weasly fic #fluff #angst #Mays Masterlist

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itsthestutterforme · 4 years

Text

Time Travel (Supernatural)

Characters: Sam x reader, Dean x reader, Lucifer x reader

Summary: Dean has been having nightmares about Y/N dying at the hands of Lucifer. His nightmares were actually visions. Lucifer kills Y/N and zaps her to the bunker where the Winchester could see her mutilated corpse. Dean travels back in time to retrieve something he needs to defeat the Amara and he runs into Y/N.

Y/N and Dean were sleeping while Sam had been searching for a case since 11 pm the night before. Dean has been having this nightmares about Y/N dying in many different ways.

Each way worse than the previous and he always ends up in tears when he wakes. Y/N wakes when she feels Dean's chest starting to convulse.

She looks at him and sees his eyes pressed shut as sweat dampens his shirt. "Dean," she says as she sit up. She rubs his chest and he wakes up with a gasp. He pushes himself so he is sitting upright against the headboard.

"Hey, it's okay," Y/N comforts when she sees tears rolling down his face. "Dean, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She wipes the tears from his cheeks and he leans into her touch. She pulls him in for a hug and he squeezes her body tightly. He buries his face into her neck as he cries and she ran her hand over the back of his head. "You b-bled out. S-someone shot you and-"

"It's alright, Dean. It's not real," "What if it is and it hasn't happened yet?" "We don't know that for sure to be worried about it. We already have enough on our plate to worry about this." "Of course I'm worried, Y/N. I'm not going to lose you."

"Exactly, you're not going to lose me. It's just nightmares." "Nightmares stem from something that either has happened or will happen," "Dean," Y/N says as she holds his face in her hands.

She presses a warm, loving kiss on his lips before pecking his forehead. "Come on, let's take a shower to ease our nerves, okay?" He nods slowly and Y/N pull him out of bed to head for the showers.

Things have been getting worse with Lucifer roaming the Earth. All the leads they found ran cold within days. Y/N got a call from her family saying that Grandma was in the hospital.

She packed five days worth of clothes in her bag and Dean was worried about her leaving on her own. "I'll be fine, Dean. If it makes it easier for you, I'll call you every hour on the hour. Sounds good?"

"Yeah, alright," he says skeptically. "Baby, I'll be okay. I promise," she states before pecking his lips. He pulls her back by her hips and presses her back against his chest. She looks straight up at him because of the 10 inch difference in height.

He presses a series of kisses on her lips and cups her hips with his large hands. "There's nothing to be worried about." Skepticsm laced his eyes and he hesitantly lets go of her. She takes off her necklace with her mother's ring around it and placed it in Dean's hand.

"No, I can't accept this." "It's a sign of good faith," she says as she closed his hand around the necklace. She takes her bag to the garage and takes one of the cars to drive back to her hometown. "What was that about?" Sam asks Dean.

"Nothing, I just have a bad feeling about her going on her own," "Dean, the first time we met, she put both of us on our ass. She is more than capable of taking care of herself."

"I've been having nightmares about Lucifer killing her, and it feels so real like its.." "And you feel like its going to happen in real life." Sam finishes and Dean nods as he stares down at her necklace in his hands.

Days have passed and Y/N was picking up some snacks in Cleveland, Ohio when she heard people screaming. She drops her snacks and rushes out the store. She runs straight into Lucifer snapping a poor man's neck.

"Lucifier!" Y/N calls as she takes out her angel blade. "Ah, well look who it is. Dean's best girl." Lucifier taunts. "You're far from home, honey." "So are you," she snaps. "Ooo, I've always liked you and that pretty little mouth of yours."

"Bite me," she threatens as she tightens her grip on the blade. "That can be arranged." With a flick of a wrist, the blade is yanked out of her hand and she is pressed against the wall.

He picks of the blade and trails it along her clavicle. She says a small incantation that causes her tattoo on her side to glow. The tattoo had the ability to blast anyone away, but Lucifier wasn't just anyone.

"That tickles," he states and Y/N closed her eyes. She knew what was coming. She was just sorry that she couldn't say goodbye to Dean. Lucifier reached in and tore Y/N's heart from her chest. Within seconds she was dead and fell to the floor.

He stares down at her corpse and debated whether he should leave her there or send her to the Winchesters. He throughly enjoys watching the Winchesters suffer so he zaps her to the bunker.

She lands right on their studying table but they were out going to a grocery run. They came back and walked down the stairs to see her laying motionless on the table.

"Baby?" Dean says as he runs over to her. His eyes frantically dart all over her body, unsure of where to focus. But they finally focus on the gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be.

"Oh my God, no," he lifts her upper body into his arms and rest her head on his shoulder. "Damn it!" He screams into her neck. Sam slowly sits in the chair and holds his face in his hands as tried to hold in his sobs.

Months later and the wounds are still fresh for them. The Darkness was released and in search for Chuck. Chuck finally resurfaced and Sam and Dean took him back to their bunker.

They needed Joseph's staff to harness it's power and use it against Amara. Sam figured out that Joseph's staff was in the bunker in before the Rowena took it. They needed to back to 2012 to retrieve it.

They prepared themselves before Chuck zapped his Dean to 2012. The bunker was quiet except for it's normal creaks. "Damn it, Dean. What did tell about leaving your shoes in the hallway! I almost broke my neck!" Y/N snaps and Dean's heart sunk.

He followed the sound of her voice to his room. She threw his shoes in the corner with a huff. She turns around and sends Dean a glare. "If I would have died from tripping over those shoes, I would come back to haunt y- are you okay?" She asks as she sees Dean's puffy eyes.

"Alright, it's not that big of a deal. It's just shoes." Dean rushes into her arms and nearly knocked her over. "I miss you," he whimpers. "I missed you too. You were gone for almost a week on that hunting trip," "No, that's not what I mean," he says as he pulls away from her.

"Y/N, I'm from the future and i--" Y/N claps a hand over his mouth and pushes him on to the bed. She straddles his waist and drapes her body over his. "Do not say another word." A soft sigh leaves her lips before she drops her hand from his mouth.

"I die in the future, don't I?" She asks. He nods and holds the side of her face. "Well at least I know what I'll die for," she says with a soft chuckle. She holds Dean's hand and presses a kiss on his palm. He sits up and takes her in his arms. He inhales the faint scent of vanilla bean from her lotion and perfume.

"I love you," Dean says. "And I love you." Y/N says as she runs her hands through his gelled hair. "What are you here for, Dean?" "Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving this bed." His voice is muffled from her chest.

"I'm so sorry baby," he croaks and Y/N rubs his back. "There's nothing to be sorry about," "Lucifer, he--" "Ah, ah, ah, don't say anything that will change the future, Dean." Y/N scolds.

"I'm sorry. I just miss talking to you about things and you being mad at me and.. damn it," "Alright, how about this. For the next minute or so, we lay here together." "Okay,"

She readjusts herself to lay on his chest and he caressed the back of her neck and they didn't move from that spot until an hour later. She helps him find the staff and she kissed him goodbye before he left.

Chuck zaps Dean back to his time and Dean felt worse after he saw Y/N. It only reminded him how much he missed her. Chuck went off to take a shower and Sam put the staff in the vault. "You okay, Dean?" "I saw her. Y/N, I saw her." "H-how is she doing?"

"She yelled at me because I left my shoes in the hallway and she tripped over them," Dean says with a small smile. "Yeah, she was always fiesty. There's a high chance she was cussing people out in the womb." Sam says, making them both chuckle.

"I miss her, man." Dean says as he links his hands behind his neck. He could still smell her on his shirt. "I miss her too," Sam says. "Wait, do you think he could..?" Sam adds. "Do what? Bring her back?" "Yeah, I mean, he's God right? He can bring anyone back." "Well, there's only one way to find out."

#sam x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural

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