#but it never leaves. it hides outside of my home. it hides inside my home when im alone. it opens the garage door when i dont look. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xsaltburnx · 4 months

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One more?

a/n: this goes out to all the Farleigh girls, I got you and I hope you like it, even though it's a bit long, I got carried away

warning: 18+, smut, smut and some more smut, swearing, just sexy time, P in V (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 3,550

The Catton family. You've been friends with Venetia and Felix for years, always celebrating your birthday at Saltburn, which has always turned out to be the craziest party of the summer.

You loved spending time there with them because you got away from all of the shitty problems you had at home, everything that was bothering you suddenly disappeared into thin air the moment you stepped on Saltburn ground.

Another reason why you loved being there was Farleigh fucking Start.

Tall, curly headed, as Felix called him "little shit-stirrer", is the most gorgeous fucking man you have ever seen in your life. He literally had everything. Everything about him was absolutely perfect.

The way his lips wrapped around a cigarette butt, the way his gorgeous hair flopped around when he walked and especially the way his eyes sparkled everytime he looked at you.

His attitude though was something else, sometimes he acted like a fucking toddler, sometimes he was so cocky that even he himself was surprised but to you he was always kind of sweet. Sometimes coming to your room late at night to talk to you, it was if not favourite, one of the favourite things to do with him and it gave you a chance to listen to his beautiful voice. Oh,that thing about him has always made you weak in the knees. Deep voice, sometimes a little bit raspy when he talked quietly or when he was mad but that raspiness was more like warm butter, spreading through the air so beautifully that sometimes you got lost in his words.

Yes, you were totally in love with him. But did he feel the same? You never asked.

You and Venetia were laying on the freshly cut grass on your stomach, your legs dangling in the air with your hands under your chin, the smell spreading through the air. That was one of your favourite things about summer. Well that and Farleigh in shorts, shirtless.

You swallowed hard when you saw Farleigh walk out of the pond in front of you, small drops of water cascading down his beautifully sculpted body, his hair perfect like always. You used your index finger to lower your sunglassed a little bit, wanting to properly see him and enjoy the view a little bit longer when Venetia interrupted your daydreaming.

"Something interesting down there?" You quickly snapped out of it and pushed your sunglasses up your nose, trying to hide your embarrassment, but it was too late.

"What? No, I was just.. looking at.. that bird over there." You pointed your finger to the left, clearly a totally different direction you were staring in just a minute ago.

"Yeah right, I saw you looking at Farleigh, you're so into him it's ridiculous." She trailed off, not taking her eyes off you. "You should tell him because he's into you too." You scoffed and looked at her.

"What?" The confusion is clearly audible in your voice.

"Yeah, he's always staring at you when you're not looking, I told him and Felix told him like a million times to try something but he's being a little bitch, so that's why we're still here, you staring at him, him obviously now staring at you."

She pointed at him, you followed her finger but when you laid your eyes on him, he was already walking away, his back turned towards you.

"If you guys don't hook up tonight at the party, I'm seriously taking matters into my own hands." She picked up her phone and got up, leaving you alone outside, the only company that you had were your thoughts. You wanted him so much, to feel his lips on yours, to bury your fingers inside that beautiful hair of his, you had to do something or you were going to lose your fucking mind.

"Are you ready?" You heard Venetia's voice travel down the hall all the way to your room, as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, straightening your short lavender glittery dress. Silver wings sitting perfectly on your back, giving you the look of a fairy.

"Ready!" You yelled just as Venetia entered your room.

"Wowza, Farleigh will go absolutely bonkers when he sees you." She complimented you as she looked you up and down one more time, making sure that everything was in perfect place. You gave her a smile and took one more deep breath before you intertwined your hand with Venetia's, ready to join the party.

As soon as you walked downstairs, the smell of cigarettes and probably 20 different kinds of alcohol invaded your nostrils. There were some people you've never even met before because of course Elspeth had to invite everybody and make it the best party of the century. You can't blame her, she lives for these kind of things.

You looked around the room, Venetia instantly catching on to whom you were looking for, a slight grin appearing on her face. While still holding on your right hand, she lifted her left one and pointed straight all the way across the room.

There he was. Leaned against the wall with a cigarette between his index and middle finger. He leaned his head back and blew the smoke out of his mouth, your eyes catching just a small glimpse of his tongue licking his top lip. He was wearing a white button down shirt, unbuttoned probably half way down, exposing his chest, the sweat on his skin literally looking like glitter and that was just enough for you to almost choke on your own saliva. He looked so fucking gorgeous.

He caught your gaze and smiled at you and you took that as a sign to go up to him.

Venetia let go of your hand and slapped you playfully on the ass as a 'good luck' sign. You winked at her and made your way through the crowd, now and then accidentally bumping into a few people. Thank god you were wearing high heels so you could actually see where you were going and had Farleigh in front of you the entire time.. You reached the other side of the room and were met with those familiar dark brown eyes and a smile worth more than all the diamonds in the world.

He bent down and leaned forward because even though you were wearing heels, he was still so much taller than you. "You look incredible." He yelled in your ear, trying to speak over the music and again locked his eyes on you. You smiled at him.

"Thank you. You look incredible too." You answered as calmly as you could, but in your head you had a totally different answer. Somebody bumped into Farleigh, making his body bump into yours. At that moment, the scent of his perfume and just him invaded your nostrils, feeling like the toughest drug you have ever encountered. He looked down at you and bit his lip, his hand reaching towards your face as he tucked a thin strand of hair behind your ear. It felt like electricity floating through your body when you felt his hand graze your cheek.

"Wanna dance?" He asked and you nodded instantly, maybe too fast but you didn't care. At that moment you didn't care about anything else but Farleigh.

He gently took your hand and led you through the crowd, finding a place that wasn't as crowded as the middle of the dance floor, so you could dance properly and that was more towards the corner of the room. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer, his hips swaying together with yours to the rhythm of the music.

You placed your hands around his neck, his eyes never leaving yours. You smiled at him and threw your head back, your hair moving through the air like silk, the glitter on your collar bones and your face illuminating under the colorful lights, literally making you look like a fairy.

Farleigh swallowed hard and suddenly stopped moving and stepped back a little bit, making you look at him, confused.

He took your hand in his, the back of your facing up. He put some of the very familiar white powder on top of it, creating a single line. He put the rest of it in his pocket before he bent down and inhaled what was on your hand, his nose following the line smoothly. He threw his head back in what could only be described as pleasure. Your lips parted at the sight of him in that state, your desire to kiss him even bigger now. You needed him so much, your body feeling like it would explode from the desire and want for this curly headed man.

He looked down at your hand, stepped closer and smirked as he stuck out his tongue and licked the remaining powder, his tongue licking it in one quick motion, his eyes never leaving yours. You swallowed hard at his intense gaze, the room suddenly feeling 20 degrees hotter. A few seconds later he pulled you in and locked his lips with yours in a deep, passionate kiss filled with desire and need for each other.

You finally intertwined your fingers in his hair, pulling at the roots a little bit, earning a quiet moan from him. He cupped your face with his large hands, his tongue easily slipping inside your mouth. You couldn't believe what was happening, afraid to let go because you thought you would wake up and see that it was all just a dream. But it wasn't. His lips fit yours like they were made for each other, melting together. He broke the kiss and looked at you, his fingertip grazing your soft cheek, only now noticing the glitter on your cheekbones.

"You look like a fairy." He whispered more to himself than to you, but you heard him loud and clear. You smiled at him and wanted to look down at your feet but before you could do that, he placed his index finger under your chin and lifted your head up, your eyes meeting his again.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked, his fingers tucking another strand of hair behind your ear, his palm now resting on your cheek. You didn't even notice you leaned into his palm, feeling like it was made for holding your face.

"Like you even have to ask." That was all you let out before he smirked and placed his hands on your hips, turning you around so you were in front of him as he led you through the crow, his hands never leaving your body. You couldn't tell how you felt at that very moment because it was all mixed. Nervous? Horny? Happy? You name it, it was all there, but what you wanted even more to be there were Farleigh's hands all over your body in the ways you only imagined in your head.

You walked through the long hallway, passing some of the people until you reached the part of the house where Farleigh's room was at. Farleigh opened the door, his hand resting on your lower back, leading you into his room. You stepped inside and walked around a little bit, looking at some of the pictures he had hung on the walls, slightly unfamiliar to you. It was somehow weird how his room was exactly the way you imagined it. Every bit of it.

"You know I've always had a crush on you?" He said quietly, his voice a little bit more raspy than usual, probably because of all the yelling over the music. You turned around abruptly and locked eyes with him, his arms crossed on his chest, his back against the wooden door.

"What?"

"Yeah." he trailed off and took a step towards you, his arms now behind his back. "Every time I saw you I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and then Felix said something about how you would never go for me because I'm an idiot" you laughed a little bit at that part. "which is not far from the truth because sometimes I am, but still." he took a few more steps and now your bodies were almost touching. "god you're beautiful." you looked down at your feet again but he did exactly the same thing he did when you were still down there, he lifted up your chin with his index finger, his eyes looking directly into yours, it was like he was staring into your soul.

"I can't tell you how many times I have wanted to do this." he leaned down and kissed your lips in such a gentle way, his fingers gently grazing your cheek and then your jawline. "or this," he then placed a kiss on your cheek, on your jawline and followed that line until he reached your neck, his lips planting a kiss right on your sweet spot, instantly sending shivers down your spine.

Your head fell back and you closed your eyes. your heart feeling as if it would jump out of your chest. You laid your hands on his arms, trying to hold onto something because you felt like your legs would give out at that very moment. You let out a quiet moan and felt him smirk against your neck, your hands finding their way to his curly hair.

"Farleigh" you whispered and cupped his face, lifting his head up to see it before you smashed your lips against his in a desperate kiss. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, working around as his hands roamed all over your body, like they were trying to remember every single curve. His hands reached behind you to find the zipper, his fingers skillfully pulling it down, exposing your back to the cold air of his room.

"May I?" He asked against your lips and the only thing you did was nod and move back a little bit so he could pull it down until it hit the floor, now pooling around your feet. "Fuck." he whispered and looked down, his teeth pulling on his bottom lip so hard it turned white. He lunged forward and picked you up, your legs wrapping instantly around his waist as he carried you to his bed and gently laid you down. You pulled him down for another kiss, your hands never leaving his face. His one hand cupped your covered breast while the other travelled slowly from your chest to your stomach, his fingers drawing invisible circles around your belly button, but they didn't stop there. He placed them just above your panties and then inside, moving them further down until he found what he was looking for.

"Damn you're already wet and I've barely touched you." His finger slowly slipped inside of you, grazing the front side of your inner wall as he watched your lips part in pleasure. He repeated the movement a couple more times and then removed his finger from your body, a whine escaping your lips.

"Farleigh, I need you." you said desperately. your body squirming from how badly you wanted him. He chuckled quietly and moved off the bed, his hands grabbing your ankles as he pulled you closer to the foot of the bed. His fingers hooked under the sides of your panties, very slowly pulling them down, the cold air in the room hitting your bottom half. He got down on his knees and pulled you even closer, his lips planting a gentle kiss on your right inner thigh, then your left one, his hands resting on your legs. He leaned forward and blew slightly on your cunt, your body jumping at the sensation and your lips parting when he connected his lips to the place where you needed him the most. He gave your clit a few gentle licks before he started sucking on it and then went back to moving his tongue in figure eights all around your clit, grazing it every now and then. He could see how frustrating it was to you, him playing with you like that, teasing you but just seeing him down there, eating you out like his life depended on it, like you were his favourite candy turned you on even more.

You arched your back and grabbed the sheets, your hips bucking up every now and then, desperate for something more. You were on the verge of tears because of how frustrated you were and Farleigh could see it but deep down he was enjoying it way too much.

"Farleigh, please." you whimpered and then suddenly the cold air hit your bottom half again as Farleigh got up and took a few steps back. You propped yourself up on your elbows to see what he was doing and oh boy did you like what you saw. His fingers skillfully started unbuttoning that white shirt he had on, taking his time with it, especially the last few buttons but once he got to that last button and his shirt flew open, your breath hitched. It wasn't like you have never seen him shirtless before, this was different. This was for your eyes only. You bit your lip at the sight of him, his fingers unzipping his pants and pushing them down as he stepped out of them, now standing in front of you only in his boxers. Fuck he looked so damn good like that. That single light that was on in the room made his skin look even more beautiful, a few drops of sweat on his chest glisten in the light.

"I like the sound of you begging, but I want you to cum when I'm inside of you." He trailed off, his voice somehow even deeper than usual, filled with lust and hunger. You sat up and unhooked your bra, now completely naked in front of him on his bed. He quickly took off his boxers, his cock now free, your mouth watering at the sight of him. He lunged forward and laid on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He looked deep into your eyes, his hand stroking his cock a few times as he lined up with you and pressed his tip in breaching your cunt. "God, you're so fucking tight," he moaned, his hips pressing into you inch by inch until he was fully inside you, your walls hugging his cock nicely.

"You ok?" he said gently, his body shaking a little bit. You could see that he was holding back but you needed him. You need him so desperately to move and to feel him fully.

"Please move, Farleigh:" That was all he needed to hear. He pulled his hips back almost all the way, only the tip of his cock resting inside of you before he slammed back in, earning a loud whimper from you. With each thrust he gave he hit that beautiful spot inside, your hands finding their way to his curly hair as you pulled on the roots making him throw his head back.

With each thrust he was getting faster and harder and you suddenly felt that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"C'mon baby, I can feel you squeezing me, let go for me" He moaned between his thrusts, focusing on hitting that beautiful spot inside. He gave you a few more of his hard thrusts and your body exploded around him, your orgasm tearing through your body, his name falling off his lips loudly. He fucked you through your orgasm but he didn't stop there, he wasn's stopping.

"Baby I know you can do more, c'mon, one more?" it didn't take long for that familiar feeling to appear again. You knew you would cum fast this time, especially with the brutal pace Farleigh has set. You dug your nails in his back and scratched him from his shoulder blades to his lower back when you felt your seconds orgasm washing over you, your legs shaking and your back arching. Just at the sight of you like that, cumming because of him and in how much pleasure you were in was enough to finally send Farleigh over the edge. He quickly pulled out of you, his hand stroking his cock at a fast pace. You quickly sat up and took him in your mouth, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit inside as you felt his sperm shoot down your throat, drinking every drop he gave you. You looked up at him and saw his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted and his torso flexed. It was easily the hottest thing you have ever seen in your life and you knew you would get to experience this whenever you wanted.

He laid down on the bed beside you, both of you trying to catch your breath. He laid on your side to admire you, how beautiful you looked like this, freshly fucked. Somehow he couldn't believe what just happened. You turned your head and saw him stare at you, his lips curled up into a smile.

"What?" You asked quietly.

"I can't believe how beautiful you are and all mine." He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently massaging it.

"Only yours."

#farleigh start #farleigh start smut #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut

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harryslittlefreakk · 4 months

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the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

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simplyholl · 6 months

Text

Frozen Stiff

Summary: Captured by the Frost Giants, your time on Jotunheim gets interesting.

Pairing: Jotun Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Loss of virginity. Size kink. Somnophilia.

See my Masterlist here

You really did it this time. Your father instructed everyone stay in their homes this night. Loki, king of the Frost Giants had warned your father, King Erik, king of the elves that he would be coming through Alfheim. If anyone was caught outside, they would be considered an enemy, and taken prisoner.

Your father’s royal decree had went in one ear and out the other. You were considered a trouble maker. Not because of anything you had done consciously. Trouble seemed to follow wherever you went. You were so unlike your sister, the future queen of Alfheim, and no one let you forget that.

She was tucked away safely in her chambers with the door locked. Here you were, hiding in the bushes outside the palace. You wanted to get a good look at the Frost Giants. You had never seen one in person, and you didn’t think the view from your chambers would do them any justice.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the forest as they stomped through. The trees were shaking with each step they took, the force of their large bodies leaving holes in the ground where they walked. They were approaching quickly. You really should run back in the palace, but you were frozen. The first few Jotuns walk by and you’re stunned.

They are even bigger than you imagined. Then you see him, King Loki. He struts through and a wild thought comes to you. He’s beautiful. You had always been taught that the Frost Giants were ugly beasts that would take misbehaving children in the night. They seemed nice enough. King Loki had even given your father warning before passing through. He and the last three giants walk passed you and you count the seconds before you can run back inside.

Woof

You look beside you terrified. Your sister’s dog, Arnie, pants beside you, tail wagging.

Woof

He barks again. You grab him, trying your best to shush him. But it’s too late. He’s gained their attention. They turn back around, looking toward the bushes you are hiding in. You sink lower to the ground, trying to shove your body under the bush. You close your eyes, hoping if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.

But their footsteps shake the ground as they come closer. “What have we here?” One of them growls, picking you up with one hand. “We found a spy, your highness.”

“Bring him to me.” King Loki demands. You squeak as you are dropped from one huge hand into another. You shiver, the temperature of his skin is colder than you could have imagined. “Not a he, but a she.” He says amused, as he looks closely at you.

“What are you doing out here, little mouse? I warned your king that we would take anyone we found outside prisoner.” You swallow, trying to seem braver than you felt. “My father, King Erik, he did command the whole village to stay inside, your highness. I was simply curious and I wanted to see you for myself.”

Loki looks at you in the palm of his hand, amusement dancing on his features. “Your father, the king? So that makes you a princess? Are you the heir to the throne?” You shake your head. “No, your highness, that would be my sister.” You introduce yourself hoping it will get you out of this situation.

“A princess for a prisoner. What an interesting day it’s turning out to be.” He sneers. “No, wait!” You protest. He closes his hand around you, silencing you. When you arrive in Jotunheim, you are brought to a room with a giant bed, huge fluffy pillows, and a roaring fireplace. King Loki places you on the bed.

“This isn’t normally how I treat my prisoners, but you are still a princess. As long as you obey me, you may stay in this room and avoid the dungeon. You are free to walk around, and I will let everyone know that no harm is to come to you. Am I understood?”

“Yyyyesss” You stutter, you had been freezing the entire trip. You run to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together in an effort to get warm. Loki studies you, his red eyes lingering on your sheer nightgown. You really didn’t plan on getting captured when you went out, so you didn’t bother with putting on a proper dress.

You regret that decision now as his gaze lands on your breasts, heaving on your shaking form. He could see everything through the nightgown, and he was already looking, so you didn’t bother with attempting to cover yourself. “I’ll have someone make you proper clothing. In the meantime, there are extra blankets in the closet.” He walks out, leaving you with your thoughts.

Months had passed and you were settling into your new home. No one treated you like a prisoner, and you decided for once in your life to stay out of trouble. You had been given a job in the palace kitchen and you were making new friends. You were actually starting to like it here.

You giggle as your closest friend Marta, asks about your sex life. As a princess, you had to save yourself for whoever your father chose for you. You knew very little about the act itself. But Marta filled you in. She answered every question you had without judging you, and she even gave you some tips. The most shocking part was learning that a male might want to kiss you between your thighs. Marta told you there was nothing like it, so you couldn’t help fantasizing about it the rest of the day. When you laid your head down to rest, your tried to think of more questions for Marta.

The door to your room squeaked open. King Loki walked in, shutting it behind him. He gently removed the blankets from your sleeping form. You were wearing the nightgown from the first night you met him. He reaches out, his long finger grazing your nipple. The chill from his skin causing it to harden under his touch. You sigh from his attention, but don’t wake up. He carefully spreads your legs, laying down between them. His cold tongue meets your center, and you buck your hips toward him. He takes this as an invitation, long tongue lapping between your thighs.

You jump up, searching your room for him, but he’s not there. It was all a dream. You confide in Marta about it and she says it must be your conversation. It made its way into your subconscious. But you didn’t talk to Marta about it the next night when you had it or the next night. Weeks had passed and still, you had the same dream every night. It made it awkward for you when you had to serve King Loki his meals.

“King Loki has requested you serve his dessert in his chambers.” Marta told you, handing you the tray piled high with pastries, cakes, and fruit. You knock on his door, waiting for his instruction to enter. When he calls for you to come in, you bow to him. “My king, I’ve brought your dessert.” He’s propped up on his bed, gesturing for you to place it on a table by the window.

He’s so big, he nearly takes up all the room on the large bed. His muscled blue form has been the object of your fantasies for a while now. “Remove your dress, and get on the bed.” He demands. You drop the metal tray on the table. “Excuse me, your highness. I must have misheard you.”

He pats the bed, “You heard correctly, little mouse. I know you desire me. You dream of me every night. I’m only rewarding your good behavior.” You fight the urge to pinch yourself. You must be dreaming. “How did you know about that?” You manage to mumble. “I know all, little one. You can hide nothing from me.”

He beckons you with his thick finger. You do as he instructed, removing your dress and getting on the bed with him. He lifts you with one hand, hovering you above his face. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammer. “I’m having my dessert.” He quips placing you on his mouth. His long, cold tongue covers your center. You shiver from the chill. His velvety muscle curls beneath your clit, flicking it.

He treats you like a porcelain doll, holding you as if you might break. He could easily crush you without trying. You really were like his own personal doll. He enters your untouched flesh with his tongue, rocking you back and forth on it. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, trying to ground yourself. He drinks you like it’s water, the icy muscle tipping you over the edge, making your toes curl.

He suddenly tosses you on your back, his bulky form trapping you beneath him. He settles between your thighs. They start aching as he spreads them as wide as he can. It’s still not wide enough to accommodate him. So he pushes your knees to your chest, his gigantic cock nudging your center.

The thought of ruining such a small, delicate woman driving him mad with lust. “I’ll split you in half, little mouse. You would like that wouldn’t you?” Your still dazed from your orgasm, so you only hum in response. “My sweet princess is cock drunk and she hasn’t had any cock yet.” You nod, reaching for him. “I am the first to touch you, correct?” Another hum to confirm.

You gasp when he dips a large finger inside you, curling it upwards. “I have to get you ready.” He explains. As he works his skilled finger inside you, you rock your hips, hungry for more. You whine as he removes his digit from you, but you’re not left wanting for long. He thrusts into you, and you scream. He stretches you, and you try to adjust to his size. You feel him bottom out and you wiggle to get more comfortable.

Tears fall down your cheeks, the stinging not subsiding. “My poor princess. I’m too much for her. It’s only the tip, my sweet girl.” He gently traces the outline of his cock bulging in your stomach. Loki presses on it. “I can see myself protruding out of your stomach, little one. Do you know how feral that makes me? Such a small creature struggling to take the head of my cock.”

He tilts his hips, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Goosebumps line your arms when you feel his breath on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, my little princess. You feel incredible. I’ll keep you forever, my little plaything.” You whimper at his words, a gush of arousal soaking him. He moans, looking at your fucked out expression. He wraps his enormous hand around your waist, thrusting you down on him, faster.

Loki roars as he releases inside you. He pulls out, spreading your now limp legs. “I want to see me dripping out of you.” He lowers his head, black tresses covering your stomach as his icy tongue laps at you once more. “What a delicious mess you made.” He coos.

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

#loki x reader #loki #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki x yn #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader smut #frost giant loki #jotun loki #loki of jotunheim #frost giant Loki smut #loki fanfiction #frozen stiff

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months

Text

Yan Cheater + Cheater Reader

Yan Cheaters are funny lemme try-

Yan Cheater who sees their darling dearest out on the town alone. You should be with them, but they'll fix that shortly. You're the person of their dreams and after so many failed relationships they're happy to find the right one. On their way over, their entire world crumbles as you're seen hugging and chatting up some random with a closeness you've never showed them. The unfamiliar face slings an arm around your shoulder as you walk off together - laughing as if you were without guilt.

You heartless bitch. How could you? After they'd give you their heart - their everything. Fine, fuck you - they could do the same thing. After crying through the night and crying their eyes they hit up a past fling to forget all about you; aggravated that all they can think of as the look at their partner is features that remind them of you. They ignore your calls, block you on everything, and have the time of their life with whoever's available... And looks like you.

The first time you saw them with someone else you turned tail and ran, saving your tears for a better time and person. Good - run off. You know what you did. They won't chase you - no matter how red their heart bleeds after seeing you after so long. You meet again at a party a mutual friend left in the dark was throwing. You, for closure - them, looking for a new body to take home. They couldn't even hide their disgust as you stomped up to them, two lockets in hand.

"What the hell did I do to you...."

They scoff. Trying to play innocent? "You know what you did."

"No! No I don't! You ghost me for weeks and never seem to be home when I try to talk to you, but the second I see you, you have your arm around somebody else. As far I remember, we were happy together. What did I do to you to deserve this?!"

"Hm... I think it was roughly a month ago. You and that little whore you met outside that coffee shop that just opened."

"Coffee shop?... Wha-" Your eyes widen. Unable to control your anger, you slap them across the face so hard the blow rattles in their teeth. They clutch their jaw. You little-

"That was my cousin, asshole!"

You toss the necklaces to the ground, two sets of initials engraved on their fronts.

"You didn't even bother to ask me about it before you ran off. If you really loved me, you wouldn't say something instead of jumping to conclusions. I knew dating you was a mistake. You spineless coward."

Their tongue feels heavy, likely cut on their teeth from your blow - bleeding; just like the heart they thought they lost. In a way - they truly had.

"Couldn't get a refund since they were custom" You spit on the fallen jewelry as you turn your back to them. "Happy Anniversary."

They fall to their knees, crawling after you as you fall into the crowd - grabbing your ankle. "No, baby. Please, baby - I fucked up bad, I know, but I can make this up to you. Sweetheart please - I'll delete everyone in my phone right now, even my parents. You'll be the only one. You're all I need. Baby, see? I'm doing it - look. Look at me - I'm sorry. Angel? Honey? D- don't leave me... DON'T LEAVE ME."

You have to change your phone number the very next day from all the calls you receive from the burner phones they purchased that same night to speak their part. Jobs too - as they stand outside and harass customers since your boss refused to let them in by your own wishes - accusing everyone of trying to take you away from them. You return home one day to find your front door unlocked and before you can realize the danger you step inside - your ex waiting with a carbon copy of every gift you threw out and wearing everything you ever gave them.

"Darling... I'm wearing that shirt you bought me last Christmas. I honestly thought it was hideous - but...it came from you. I'm wearing that hoodie you thought you lost too. I lied because I wanted to have something that smells like you to keep. It doesn't smell much like you anymore. Only my tears. I'm sorry - I won't ever lie to you again. You're perfect. My sweet angel. Please...give me a second chance. I don't know what I'll do if you don't."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere concept #yandere drabble #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere cheater

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midnightwriter21 · 1 year

Text

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men having a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt.1

characters: fem!reader x rengoku, giyuu

PT 2 with Sanemi HERE

AN: the long awaited request is finally here!! sorry for the delay! im in college and finals week was crazy! but the semester is over and i'm ready to get back to it with a bunch of new content for you guys! <3

RENGOKU

when he comes home from a mission to find the house completely trashed and a trail of blood leading to the bedroom he freezes

his first thought is that you're dead

someone or something has broken in

and he wasn't here to protect you

immediately blames himself

and poor kyo just can't force himself to walk in the bedroom only to discover your broken bleeding body

his heart couldn't take it

its not until he hears movement and small noises of pain that he pushes the bedroom door open

only to discover you hiding in the corner of the room covered with a blanket

relief

until he pulls the blanket from your head to see what you've turned into

he doesn't react

doesn't talk

doesn't move

doesn't even breathe

just stares at you

until you manage to croak out his name

this snaps his mind into high gear

immediately thoughts of the young Kamado girl are running through his head

she has never hurt a human and seems to do just fine

and if you were going to harm him you would have done it already

quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to avoid the sunlight peaking through the curtains and carries you to the bed to set you down

scribbles a note to the head of the corps to inform him of your condition

and spends the rest of the day and that night comforting and reassuring you because of what had to have been a traumatic night

a week or so passes

you fall back into your old routine of caring for the house

and its quite obvious that you're becoming depressed

no longer able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and being cooped up in the house for your own safety

it isnt until a young man wearing the head of a boar bursts headfirst through the window

breaking the glass, ripping down the curtains

with a "comin through!"

that you realize the sunlight doesn't harm you like it does to other demons

leave it to inosuke lmao

when kyo returns home from another mission around noon

imagine his surprise when his demon SO bursts through the front door into the sun

and into his arms

takes a minute for him to process that you're not burning up

"oh my god we have to get you inside NOW"

the poor man is having a heartattack

but then he sees your smile and hears your laugh for the first time since the attack

finally he's able to realize that the sun has no effect on you

and he's picking you up and swinging you around in a giant hug

i just know he gives the best hugs

i'd let him crush me to death in one

of course kyo is still sometimes crushed with guilt

he blames himself for your transformation in the first place

but the most important thing is that you're safe and happy again

GIYUU

why can't this man ever just be happy

when you don't show up at your usual meeting place with Giyuu in between missions he knows somethings up

he rushes to your home

and there you are

sitting on the steps in front of your house

covered in blood and in tears

it isn't until he gets closer that he realizes what has happened

he has no words

everyone that giyuu has ever loved has been taken from him

and he allowed himself to love you

thats why this has happened

blames himself even though it obviously not his fault

still not speaking he looks at the sky to see the sun

and then back at you

a demon

who isn't affected by the sunlight in the slightest

and isn't attacking him

and then he disappears

when he returns several hours later it's dark outside

and with him he's brought Shinobu and the Kamado siblings

one of which is a demon

Shinobu checks you over and determines that the blood you are covered in is indeed yours

but any wounds you had have already healed

Nezuko senses what you are but seems to know that you're docile and snuggles up to your side as a comfort

and Giyuu just watches quietly

when Nezuko has fallen asleep her brother picks her up giving you a sad smile before he leaves

Giyuu helps you stand and brings you inside

he runs a bath so you can clean urself off

and goes about cleaning the house which was destroyed during your attack

it isn't until you're in bed that Giyuu lays behind you, tugs you close to him, and speaks to you for the first time

"i am staying with you. and i WILL turn you back."

and those two sentences bring you all the comfort in the world

#demon slayer #anime #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer headcanons #tomioka giyu x reader #giyuu x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x oc #giyuu tomioka x reader

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chachued · 4 months

Note

I wanted to request lando x fem reader if possible when he’s leaving for a while and they’re extra affectionate the night before with longer hugs and more reassurance, it could even get emotional??

Thank you in advance🥰

omg, yes. absolutely adorable!!! such a cute idea, this is.

━━ NEVER LEAVING | LANDO NORRIS ⁴

He never left without you, but you couldn’t come with him this time. It wasn’t easy, to say the least, but this night made it all the better.

↳ lando norris x fem!reader

W/C 0.5k

CONTENTS fluff — so much fluff, best bf lando, clingy reader, a bit of attachment issues, half proofread, short imagine

TOMORROW WAS THE DAY. Even though you begged for a day off—just to spend time with your boyfriend—today was too far busy, said your boss.

It was already late at night, so you expected Lando to be asleep already. He had to leave tomorrow morning, so you let bygones be bygones.

You didn’t know work would last so long, there’s barely enough time to be with him. And most of it will be used sleeping beside him. Everything consumed the energy that usually sparked inside you — The one that was excited to go home to him.

The key was deep inside your bag while you shuffled for it, prolonging the wait outside your door, which was insufferable. All you wanted to do was lay in bed—preferably with his arms around you.

The door handle clicked, and then it opened. “You’re home!”

“You’re still awake?” You were relieved, but rightfully worried because it is twelve in the morning.

His hand took yours, dragging you inside. “Of course, I am.”

“What’s that — And that smell?”

“Well, that is your favourite movie, with your favourite food, and your favourite snacks, actually.”

Wow. He really did it all for you.

There were candles that were already half-melted, probably the ones that were hiding in an obscure area. The line of expensive meals and cheap takeout showed a variety of food. It’s like he knew you hadn't eaten yet.

Lando couldn’t help but notice the way the light hit your face, highlighting that pretty smile of yours—melting him from the inside. “There’s also a bunch of blankets to get you comfy. I’m sure you would’ve been tired when you got home.”

“I love you so much right now.”

“You didn’t love me before?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling.

“I love you too.”

Anxiety piled up — That overwhelming feeling.

It finally hits you he’d be leaving tomorrow morning. All this effort and it didn’t even last long because, before you knew it, he’d be gone. It hurt, and you didn’t know why.

It wasn’t the fact that he was leaving. It’s because he motivated you throughout the day, promising kisses and goods—giving a reason to be excited about life. What could you do without him?

Lando was cuddled up next to you, lying on your chest, when he heard your sniffling. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I’m here,” he said, and in all honesty, it made the tears harder to hold in.

But you stayed strong.

“It’s just… You’re leaving, and all that. I don’t know, I feel a bit silly.”

He held you tighter, not planning to ever let you go. His eyes were heavy, but he’d stay up all night to be with you.

No amount of sleep can replace you, he thought.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can.” His hand slithered onto your cheek, wiping the loose tear. “I’m never ever leaving you.”

That was the promise he’d never dare to break.

It was insane. You felt insane. He was doing all this for you, and you felt like a burden. There was nothing you did to deserve this—

You felt his soft lips on yours—holding on for a second—and the warm embrace melted you in quick.

“Text me and I’ll fly back to you, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Alright?”

A giggle slipped out of your mouth. “Alright, yeah.”

This was home — Your home.

And it would never fall apart, not with him.

↳ bonus ; next morning ´ˎ˗

LOADING . . . ✎

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #fluff #mclaren #ln4 #ln4 x reader

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bountydroid · 12 days

Text

Jealousy

Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader

Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.

Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!

The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.

"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.

You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.

"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.

"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any vials"

"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.

"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone.

Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.

"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.

You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."

Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.

"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"

Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."

"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.

"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.

You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.

"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"

'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.

"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed.

You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."

"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand.

"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.

"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.

"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face.

You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.

He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips.

"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.

"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.

The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.

Tag list: @sitkafay

#the ghoul fallout #fallout tv series #fallout #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard

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stararch4ngelqueen · 25 days

Text

A Spoonful of Honey

Jason Todd/pregnant fem!reader (cause why not, I started reading the adventures comic so silly Jason is just on my mind as much as big beefy himbo acting like a baby over taking medicine. Chat I’ve been through it these past months, so this isn’t proofread)

Time Written - 11:05 p.m

The morning was cold, dreadfully cold, with a humid fog blanketing the dreary skies, blurring the atmosphere in a quiet haze. The temperature reached forty degrees at the highest around the late evening, giving those who had no business being outside a perfect excuse to remain indoors.

You basked in this opportunity to bring out your gold handle, cream colored dutch oven. Soft cardigan sleeves pushed up to your elbows to cut vegetables for a hearty dinner.

Slow, rugged feet trudged into the kitchen in the midst of you sautéing a rainbow assortment of veggies in butter and oil, dressed in his ‘plain ol’ civilian clothing’, a muted gray hoodie pulled over his head.

A sort throat was how it started; signifying the side effects to his nightly routine. Vigorous exercise could only help so much to fight off the chill, but with temperatures dropping incredibly low, sweat could nearly freeze on skin shortly after it’s been secreted.

The cold nearly nipped a permanent flush to his chiseled cheeks, kissing a sprinkle of color on his nose. He looked as exhausted as he did the previous night, when he first arrived home with a short cough and occasional clear of his throat.

Jason was sick, in the beginning stages of a cold. He’s not even bothering to hide it, yet continued to insist it wasn’t as bad as he led it on to become.

“You’re makin’ soup?” he asked. A comforting, light pressure of broad muscle against your back. Warm hands roaming from their soft placement along your hip dips roam forward, rustling along the fabric of your plush sweater, palms finally settling snug over your stomach.

“Mhm.” You nod, settling one of your hands over his interlaced fingers. “Chicken. With potato, and a ton of vegetables you like.”

“Mmm,” he hums, lightly sniffing the delectable curls of seasoned steam from your spice additions. “Smells incredible, ma.”

“Thank you. Good for the cold,” you comment, feeling satisfied at your seasoned sauté of protein and vegetables. You glance over your shoulder, smiling a little at his calm, droopy expression. “And colds.”

“Wow. Funny.” He murmurs per your amusement, taking over in reaching for the box of broth you set aside.

“You looked a little under the weather. Just wanted to help you feel a little better.” You reply after nodding in thanks for his aid, snapping open the seal to the box.

“You’re always taking care of me.” He exhales, his head tilting to kiss you on the cheek. He sounds grateful for the consideration, but he’s not very surprised by it.

You always had a tendency to spoil him. It’s just been your nature since the minute he first knew you.

“How’s the little one doing?” he asks, thumbs brushing light ovals over the soft mound of your protruding bump. Barely the size of an overripe grapefruit, or an underripe honeydew.

“Fine. No complaints,” you continue while pouring in the chicken broth. “Though, I’m sure the baby’s convinced that papa is doing a terrible job not resting up.”

Of course, he says nothing of it to confirm or deny. As if there was anything to deny, you could hear it in his slightly nasally tone. His fingers continue their gently ministrations, his eyes seemingly fixated on your actions, or unfocused as his mind trails off to space.

“Jay.”

“Hm?” His head slightly perks, leaving you to instantly assume the latter.

“It’s only been four months. You won’t feel much at four months.”

Maybe it’s faint arrogance to the doctor’s words. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he thinks that he can feel their baby shifting and wriggling around inside. He never thought of it before until it occurred to him one day, entering his mind at first as a silly thought before turning into a strong fixation.

“What, are you expecting it to come out and give you a high five?”

“Shut up.” He grunts, earning you a smirk.

“Couch,” you instruct, your gentle squeeze of your hand on his forearm combatting your firm tone. “Dinner’s almost done. Go relax.”

“Alright.” He’s quick to agree, yet his actions say otherwise. For a man who’s known by others to sulk, in your doting presence he reverts to a state a comfortable serenity, regardless of this mild illness weighing heavy on his tired bones. Regardless of your ever so heartwarming instruction, he retaliates with gentle backlash, consisting of third grade retorts and heavy groans. All in good fun, merely poking at your funny bones to catch a glimpse of a smile.

He moves his hand in little circles against your belly, waiting for his baby to respond. While he doesn’t feel any kicks just yet, he’s excited just thinking about all the times they have to come.

As much as you loved every ounce of physical touch, the slightest pet peeve of him not doing as you requested for his own good irked your mind. “Jason. You gotta move.”

“Can’t,” he mutters, “I’m fine right where I am.”

“You can play with the baby after you eat, Jason,” you insist. “You gotta eat, take some medicine, and rest. You can’t take medicine until you’ve eaten first.”

“I bet you the baby’s hungry, too.” Such sweet words from his mouth nearly had you melting on the spot. Already a doting father in waiting, how could you not feel your heart flutter?

“Jason,” you insist once more, your spoon resting on the rim of the cooking pot.

“Don’t wanna,” he replies, sounding both annoyed and amused by such insistence. His warm body never separated from yours for a mere five to seven minutes after that, your palm reaching up and back to catch his cheek, meeting the warm skin of his flushed face.

“You ever notice that you get grouchy during a cold—“

“I’m not grouchy right now though—”

“—the baby wouldn’t want their papa to be grouchy.”

“And you’re being a little mean.”

“Me? Mean?” You sounds surprised, though you’re smiling wide the entire conversation.

“Yes, you.”

“I could never.”

He doesn’t look at you though, his voice sounding playful once more. “You’re being super mean, trying to make me eat and take medicine and everything. The audacity, ma.”

You scoff as you closes the pot, turning your full bodied attention to Jason.

You smile, adoring your sick beloved, the father of your unborn baby gazing down at you with exhausted, lovestruck teal eyes. He always looked so cute, especially sick with a cold. Especially with the mentality of thinking he can do what he wants at this moment, thinking he’s said all the right words to coerce you.

“Good. That’s called love, now gooo.”

He sighs, and he’s really not looking forward to it. The idea of eating just doesn’t sound appealing right now anymore, nor does taking the medicine. Either way, the coziness of his woman wrapped in pearl colored cashmere with a cozy smile finally allured him towards the promising comfort of the living room couch, a temporary respite.

Inevitably, He left you to finish, granting the kitchen vocal silence for the next twenty minutes, apart from the soft drum of heavenly soup coming to a boil. Only when you come to find him did you see him flopped on the couch, an arm draped over his eyes to block all means of light.

You beckon him with a bowl of warm soup settling on the coffee table, alongside the eventual promise of lemon balm tea with a spoonful of crystallized honey.

“I don’t even feel that sick,” he grunts as he sits up, his voice starting to get a little hoarse from him talking (and complaining). Let the big guy say what he wants, you knew him better than even he admitted to allow.

“Then you’ll have no problem drinking my horrible concoction,” your gentle sarcasm would never be heard as unfavorable in his ears.

Jason takes a sip of his soup, slightly wincing from the heat on his sore throat, but he doesn’t seem as pleased with it as he’d originally thought. It tastes good, everything you’ve ever concocted for meals brought comfort, but as of now. he’s not really as hungry as he anticipated.

“What is this? Chicken, right?” He’s just making small talk now, wanting the conversation to last. “It’s really good, really, ma. Just not as hungry as I thought.”

You nod, not really happy about the outcome. But again, he’s sick. You can’t blame him.

“Take a few more sips, at least. Just so the medicine dosent make your stomach hurt.”

Jason looks away when you mentions the medicine, but he nods all the same. He eats what he can from his bowl, his shoulders slumping as exhaustion decides to increase weight down on his bones, forcing him into an even drowsier state.

All he does is partially lean against you after setting his bowl back on the table, keeping his eyes closed to ease the faint throbbing pressure building at the top of his head.

“I don’t even like cold medicine… I can’t sleep when I’m drowsy.” He mutters to himself, seeming to babble to no one but himself on not being so ill.

Your hand reach up to settle along his back, easing the tension with your fingers massaging his neck, confusion conflicting your mind at first.

“What you just said made no sense,” you giggle a bit, watching him lazily shake his head with a mild scoff.

He presses his head against the curve of your shoulder, his voice growing soft like a cat’s rumble. One of his arms settles lazily around your back. his body feeling practically limp.

By now, his response came in a series of short, muffled hums. He’s not complaining, really, but he is being extremely clingy. He just wants to be wrapped up in your arms, succumbing to an incredibly long sleep in your embrace, as if he can’t support his own weight. (He really can, but chooses not to.)

“On the bright side, the medicine says it tastes like honey.” You gently suggest, putting optimism where it may have lacked.

“Can’t you take it for me?” He lightly whines, his voice rumbling with a drowsy rasp. At this point, it’s not even because of the cold. Jason’s just too exhausted to think straight.

“I don’t know if pregnant women can take this kind of cold medicine,” you whisper to him, holding his shoulder after combing through his hair.

“Pretty please?” He whispers, his body feeling a little warmer from your presence. As comforting as it may have been to him now, a few minutes longer would’ve resorted in an uncomfortable ache in his neck from this poor posture.

“C’mon baby, just one little cup of medicine and you can sleep as much as you want. I’ll even yell at Bruce or Dick if they even try to call.”

Jason gives a light chuckle, his nose brushing along your jaw before planting a minor kiss along your neck.

“Fine, guess I’ll stop giving mama a hard time about it. It’ll be your job in about five months.” He speaks in second tense towards the bump in between you, followed by an eye roll on your end.

Watching you measure out the golden, syrupy mixture of potentially foul tasting medicine left him in a weak bind. He’d graciously drink horrid syrups consisting of fear toxin and joker venom if it meant you’d spoon-feed him an antidote. Such blind devotion was rare to come by throughout his life, comfort was your name in a foreign language.

He’s blessed with your smile once he had gotten the medicine down, rewarded with a kiss on the tip of his nose and a cup of promised tea, ambrosia to combat the foul taste. Goddamn medicine bottles with their stupid, deceiving lies.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so needy.” His slurred mumbling surprised you the most as you adjusted the blankets between the two of you.

A light tongue click leaves you, shaking your head in denial from such an unnecessary apology. “Don’t be, you silly man.”

Whether from some conflicting guilt, or illness inducing dysphoria on his mind, or shame, you gently deny and accept his apology with another kiss.

The effect of the medication is quickly kicks into place after ten minutes in bed, starting to drift off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Nothing but calm silence steals his consciousness for a few hours, warm bodies sheltered by the chilly winds batting against fogged glass throughout the long hours of the night. Despite the occasional faint echoes of neighbors next door and above, serene silence envelopes the minds of exhausted bodies.

You were snuggled up beside him with one of many pillows invading the space. Your cardigan sprawled neglected on the floor, cast aside due to the overwhelming seer of body heat.

He sighs softly, still tired, but his eyes glance over to the time on the nightstand clock.

He’s been asleep for hours, the time being … A little after eleven.

“Damn.” He whispers, drawing your closer to his body in a close hold. You feel so good like this, so safe. Spending all this time with him, doting on him, caring for him would mean the fifty percent chance you’d be afflicted next once he got better. Jason didn’t mind one bit, as much as he knew he should’ve been the one spending all his free time being attentive to your needs.

Either of you would look back on this and laugh of it, considering it practice for the baby.

For now, in the short time period of limbo between doctors appointments, checklists on supplies, criminal justice, and other impending challenges of becoming parents, everything was quiet. Calm, perfect even.

“Shh, the baby’s sleeping,” you softly retaliate, your hand cradling over his on the bump. You nudge just a little closer to the warmth radiating off him, seeking comfort with the furnace you call your beloved.

“What time is it?”

“Sleeping time,” he retorts, still sounding a little drowsy, his words coming out slow and somewhat slurred. His nose felt more stuffy than before, his head aching with a pressure that grew the longer he remained awake.

Once more, calloused fingers rustle against the fabric of his shirt on your body, potentially to be stretched during the later months to come. Here’s to hoping, he’s been secretly dying to see it.

“I love you both,” he whispers along your forehead, speaking from his heart in the sanctuary of your shared vulnerability.

You smile, tilting your head up to plant a soft, exhausted kiss on his chin. “We love you too,” you whisper, fighting back sleep to express an intimate act of love.

He closes his eyes, ready to sleep again. He’s not tired yet, stuck between the purgatory of both conscious states, but he’s not going to be able to stay awake much longer. At this point, he’s already half in the land of dreams. He’s comfortable—and happy to be with you, and with his baby.

“Never wanna let go of you two,” he mumbles, faintly catching the fragrance of your shampooed hair, the faint spice of ambery musk clinging to your skin.

You can’t help but quietly coo, burying most of your face against the crook of Jason’s neck.

“Then, don’t.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd dc #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd drabble #jason todd x #my personal life went through a dead dove phase #this is my therapy #for free

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ynsvnte · 2 months

Text

Glimpse of Us — Sim Jaeyun

Genre: smut (18+ MDNI) fluff, est. relationship

word count: 1.2k

warnings: swearing, pet names, unprotected sex, kissing, aftercare, pulling-out method, overstimulation, praising, tummy-bulge?, Rough-ish sex.

pairing: bf!jake x fem!reader

Masterlist

You're relaxing on the balcony of your shared home with Jake, your boyfriend. It's late at night and you can’t fall asleep, you didn’t want to bother Jake either. You sat on one of the chairs set outside and looked down onto the city. Some building lights are still on, so you admire the view in front of you. Grabbing your cup of water you take a sip of it before settling it down.

You hear noise instead of your bedroom so you take a small peek, but Jake seems to be asleep. You go back to the position you were in before. Few minutes pass, only silence filling the air. Everyone in the neighbor is asleep away in their beds, but you..wide awake. Or so you thought..that’s when you hear the balcony door open, you turn your head towards the sound and see Jake awake.

“Baby..? Why are you awake..?” He asked with a raspy voice. He rubs his eyes to clear his vision. You smiled at the sight of him. “Oh..I couldn’t sleep…” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Babe, you could’ve just asked me..”

“But you looked so comfortable sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb that.” You tried explaining yourself. “Still just wake me up next time..also how long have you been out here?” Jake asks you. “Only like 20 minutes..”

“20 minutes!?! Babe it’s so fucking late at night!” Jake was surprised to say the least. Jake takes a seat next to you, and grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. “Don’t ever do this again..” Jake warned you, but you only nodded your head.

You both sit there in silence before you speak up. “Do-do you think we’ll be together forever?” You asked. “What do you mean darling?” Jake was concerned about what you asked. “I mean do you think we’ll never go different ways, breaking up?”

“Yn…that’s such a dumb question…I’ll never leave you ever..” his words weren’t convincing. “I don’t believe you..” you said. “Yn I mean it, I love you a lot to not leave you. I want you to mine forever.”

“Prove it..” You said. Jake then crashes your lips together taking you by surprise, but you kiss him back. Jake pulls away from the kiss before dragging you inside your shared bedroom. He closes the door behind you and pushes you onto the bed before caging you between his arms.

“Oh I’ll show you sweetheart..” he said with a deep voice before kissing you hard. You moan into the kiss and enjoy the way he is kissing you. You can feel your panties getting soaked immediately. You’re only in underwear and one of Jake’s shirts that fits you a bit large. Jake grabs the end of your shift lifting it off you, revealing your soaked through panites. Making you flustered. “You’re already so wet, hmmm? Never knew you were this...desperate” You could only whimper at his words. You close your eyes before Jake taps your face. “Hey, eyes on my eye sweetheart.”

“S-sorry” you were embarrassed. Jake grips your hips before pulling down your panites revealing your bare cunt to him. “F-fuck…princess your so wet, all for me..” Jake says before pinning your legs around his arms and begins to lap on your clit. You let out a loud moan, trying to lower your voice. “Hey…don’t hide your moans, be loud, I want everyone to hear how good I’m making you feel.” And so you do. Moaning Jake’s name out loud. Enjoying the pleasurable sensation you're currently receiving. Soon enough you feel you high coming. “J-Jake..fuck I’m close!!” You legs wrapped around Jake’s head trapping him between your legs. Jake is not complaining though. He loves being in between your legs. That’s when it reaches its peak. You let out a loud whimper making Jake smirk.

“There baby, but you can give me one more right..? Such a good girl” He said. You nodded your head agreeing. You slightly sit yourself up, mind heavy from your orgasm. You close your eyes, but open them when you hear clothes rustling. You open your eyes quickly, seeing Jake undress. You can feel yourself getting wet again. Gosh really.

Jake finished undressing and climbed on top of you, before kissing you. You melt into the kiss enjoying it. “I would keep kissing you but I need to be inside of you right now…” Jake settles between your legs and puts his tip near your entrance. With one thrust he’s inside making you moan out loud. “J-Jake, what about a condom?” You don’t want to get pregnant, especially at a young age. “Shhh don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll pull out.” Let’s hope he does.. Jake began thrust slowly..wanting you to get used to his size. “Feels good?” He asks you. You nodded.

“Use your words sweetheart” Jake lifted you head with his other hand, forcing you to look at him. Jake slowly began to pick up the pace, going faster and harder. You hands began gripping the bed sheets until that’s when Jake grabs both of your arms and uses one hand to hold both of arms above your head. Leaving your hands to shuffle around in his hands due to the pleasure.

“Fuck you feel so good, all f’me” Jake was now stuttering his words. Jake was getting pussy drunk. He loved the way your walls felt around his cock. “Ha- Jake..I’m getting close…” You felt a tight knot. And Jake takes the opportunity to press onto the bulge forming. “You feel that sweetheart, that’s my cock…made for you only you..wanna mark you as mine, but I promised to come inside..mhm-fuck” Jake starts pounding in you harder, the sound of skin slapping against each other filling up the room. They only get tighter each passing second.. “Jake..so close please…” Jake ignored your words and soon enough your orgasm hit you. Jake continues to pound into you trying to reach his own high. While accidentally overstimulating you. “Babe..too much” you pleaded begging him to try to stop. Your legs were shaking, you were helpless, hands locked by one of his hands pinning it down.

Jake can feel himself getting closer, but he doesn’t want to pull out. He’s not the type of person to break his promise so just for you, As soon as his high is very close, he pulls out and starts jerking off on top of your cunt. That’s when it hits, his cum lands onto your tummy. Slowly dripping down to your cunt..He’s exhausted, legs weak. Jake lays next to you, catching his breath, before facing you.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asks you. He didn’t want to hurt. He wants to blame you because why does your cunt have to feel good? “Yeah…I’m fine..” you said while you try to sit up only to meet with a pain in your thighs..oh you were going to be sore by the morning.. “We can take a quick bath..clean you all up..” Jake insisted. You nodded your head, and closed your eyes. You can feel Jake get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom, you begin to fall asleep.

That’s when Jake comes back a few minutes later.. “Baby, the bath is ready..” you signal him to get closer, Jake face is in front of yours so you take the chance to kiss him. He chuckles at your actions. He picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. At Least now you can get some sleep.

Author’s Notes: soo.. um this was going to be a one shot, but kind of gave up on that idea soo now you all shall receive this Drabble and I hoped you enjoyed it 😁 I like this WAY MORE than the heeseung one 😔

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inkbybambi · 4 months

Text

bar owner!john price kisses you under the mistletoe —

words: 4.9k rating: e warnings: fem!reader, praise kink/praises, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, pet names, biting/marking, finger sucking, size kink, john steals your panties, please let me know if i missed anything. this has been edited to the best of my ability. notes: this is my contribution to @bunnyreaper's call of duty secret santa exchange and is dedicated to @a-very-bored-blogger ♡ my blog and all my works are 18+ so minors dni. proper warnings have been provided.

being the boss’s favorite has its perks.

you’re the first to try new spirits and brews he orders for the bar. he doesn’t bother trying to hide his snort of amusement each time your face scrunches up when something tastes particularly awful.

you try to hide your blush when he delicately takes the glass from your hand, fingers briefly touching, throwing back the rest of the drink without flinching.

smug bastard always winks after.

you’re the only one allowed to lounge in his office on your lunch, even when he’s not there. you ignored the pointed looks from the others when he first gave you the key. it dangles on a pink, heart-shaped carabiner. there’s a drawer of snacks and a mini-fridge that’s always stocked for you. a pile of your books are stacked on his desk with his other papers, most of them he gifted himself.

you never see the way his cheeks go pink every time you read one of the books he chose.

you’re the only one allowed to take the beanie off his head. sometimes he puts it there himself. soap tried it once and never again after his hand got thwacked with a wet dish rag.

your favorite perk?

the way he lingers when you’re the one closing, always nearby as you wipe down the counters and dry the glasses. the gentle press of his palm at the small of your back when he maneuvers around you; when he hands you something you’ve asked for and his eyes glitter when you say thank you; the soft touch at the nape of your neck when you’re finally done and tucking the rag away, gently guiding you to the door.

sometimes he walks you home. sometimes he drives you. you’ve begun to look forward to it now.

lately — more often than not — you find yourself hiked up on the counter, john standing between your legs, radiating heat like a furnace, his big hands cupping your face as his tongue slides deep into your mouth, tasting you and swallowing your soft whines.

he always tastes like cigars, which you complained about at first, but now you couldn’t care about when his fingers thread though your hair, tipping your head to the side so he can slide his mouth along the line of your throat, beard scratching your skin.

he’s careful to not leave any marks. but each time his teeth skim the column of your throat, he presses sharper, harder.

you want him to bite you.

everyone assumes you two are fucking anyway.

he said he’d walk you home.

twenty minutes ago.

he pulls away, leaving you breathless, pressing his nose against your cheek. you close your eyes and lean into him, lightly scratching at the base of his skull.

“should get you home,” he rumbles low in his chest, voice like gravel. it makes you ache.

you can’t say much apart from a small hum of agreement, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body.

he doesn’t make any effort to pull away either.

his lips drag from your cheek to your jaw, nipping at the hinge before soothing it with his tongue. you shudder on an inhale, waiting for what’s next.

“let me get your bag,” he murmurs, voice still soft as if he doesn’t want to shatter the calm that’s settled over you two, like a veil of gossamer protecting you from the outside world.

with one last, slow kiss, he leaves to gather your bags, slipping his beanie on your head and walking you out.

he clicks the lights off.

no matter how many times or how often you find yourself wrapped in winter’s cold embrace of snow and icy wind, you hate it.

you like it from the inside. with a warm drink of whatever — sometimes spiked, if you’re feeling cheeky — and blessedly not outside.

this is your first christmas with the bar — with the boys — and john invited you to help decorate for the season.

this is your first time feeling like you belong somewhere. the boys have been together for years now, as you’ve learned over your time with them, but they took you in and made you feel welcome from the very start.

you, however, felt awkward the first couple shifts, as to be expected. one night, about a week settling into the job, you stood up to a particularly rowdy client — gaz and soap minding the bar with you, exchanging glances with each other and keeping an eye on the situation; simon and john lingering around the billiard tables with some regulars, also with an eagle eye on you. you didn’t back down to his crass attitude and sharp words, damn near throwing the lime you were cutting at his face. a tense moment or so passed before he submitted, mumbling an apology and throwing a twenty pound note on the bar along with the rest of his tab, slinking to a seat in the back.

closing the bar a few hours later, soap handed you a shot of something gross with a proud smirk on his face, gaz excitedly talking with you, relaying the moment with vigor, his eyes sparkling with amusement as if you were some sort of superhero. simon, far more subdued than the others and wearing his skull-painted balaclava, simply gives you a nod of approval as he raises a glass to you.

that was the first night john kissed you.

you’ve felt at home ever since.

snow flurries cling to your lashes as you trudge through layers of snow, scarf wrapped up around your nose and john’s beanie pulled down as much as possible.

you tried to return it last night before he left, but he insisted on you keeping it. you’re grateful for that now, stuffing your hands as deep into your pockets as possible, hating the way the wind bites so fiercely, it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all — bones and blood turning to ice.

ten excruciatingly cold minutes later, you stumble into the bar, shaking yourself off like a wet dog and stomping your boots to dislodge the snow clinging to the sole. some of it buried into the back of your boot while walking, and you try not to make a face when your socks feel damp.

“there she is!” comes soap’s cheerful call, standing behind the bar with a cardboard box in front of him.

you unravel yourself from the scarf and dust off the beanie from the last of the snow, wiggling your fingers as you make your way over so you can start feeling them again. john turns to look at you with a warm smile, and you flush under his attention. simon accepts a glass from gaz, tipping it towards him in thanks. gaz passes glasses to john and soap next, finally setting one down at the seat next to john — intended for you, as he gives you a knowing smirk, which you pointedly ignore with a roll of your eyes — and sipping from his own as he settles next to soap.

“what’s this?” you ask, taking a sip.

“that’s a gin and tonic, love,” gaz replies easily, and you give him an unamused look.

“i meant the box,” you clarify, as soap chuckles and uses a box cutter to open it, taking out a sheet of paper and reading over it with a soft smile on his lips.

“this,” he says, pulling a knit sweater from the box and checking the sticky note on the front, handing it to john, “is tradition.”

you take a healthy sip — gaz uses a heavy hand —and watch as he continues to pull the sweaters from the box, handing one to simon and then gaz. he takes another from the box, resting it in front of him.

“ma nana, bless her, makes us christmas jumpers,” he says with a fond smile. you watch as gaz eagerly strips his current sweater to put the new one on.

your heart aches, but the corner of your lips quirk up as you watch even simon pull his on.

he reaches into the box again, one last sweater being handed to you. “ah told her ‘bout you,” he begins as you take it from him, unraveling it and feeling the sting of tears line your eyes. “she says welcome to the family.”

you blink at him with teary eyes and he coos at you, leaning over the counter to squish your cheeks affectionately.

“go on then, hen,” he says as he releases you, nodding towards the jumper. you eagerly strip out of your jacket, taking the beanie off and settling it on the counter before pulling the sweater over your head.

it fits like a dream.

“don’t ask,” soap says with a wink, taking a sip and turning away so you wouldn’t even have the chance to ask.

you look over to john, blue eyes dark as he takes you in, something unreadable in his expression. his eyes flick to yours, gaze softening as he gives you one of his signature smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners so you know it’s real, reaching out to ruffle your hair before standing from his seat.

“right then,” he says, “let’s get to work.”

after the garland has been hung, mistletoe put over every possible doorway thanks to soap, fake poinsettias and other decorations spread all throughout the bar, you deem it to be ready for the holiday.

or as ready as it can be, but you’ll take what you can.

the boys turn one of the tvs on to watch the premier league game, lounging in their new, festive jumpers and drinks on the table. you take the moment to slip away to the back office where john is, having retreated there himself a half-hour earlier.

the door is slightly ajar, but you knock lightly before pushing it open a little more.

john sits at his desk, sweater pushed up his forearms and stretching across his broad chest. you swallow a pathetic whimper, turning to close the door. you didn’t lock it — fingers crossed the game keeps the boys occupied enough to not worry about you.

john watches you with those same dark eyes — arousal dampening your panties — as you make your way over to him. he pushes his chair back enough for you to climb into his lap, settling yourself comfortably over his thick thighs. your fingers card affectionately through his mutton chops, and he lets out a pleased hum, closing his eyes.

“i got you a gift,” you confess in a whisper, shy and uncertain.

his eyes flick open, clearly intrigued, but doesn’t prompt you any further. he rests his hands on your hips, dipping under the hem of the sweater to grasp your waist, thumbs rubbing affectionately over your skin, pulling you closer.

“did you now?” he asks, clearly amused, hands drifting higher. you let out an indignant squeak, swatting his chest.

“it’s not me!” you say, though the idea certainly isn’t a bad one.

“pity,” he muses, chuckling, before his hands come back to respectfully settle on your waist. “what is it, then?”

you chew the inside of your cheek, suddenly worrying that it’s too much, or that it’s not enough, or he won’t like it or —

“love?” he prompts you, as if he could sense the way you’re spiraling into your own mind.

you balance yourself up on your knees — which doesn’t help your claim that you’re not the gift — pulling out a slightly crumpled, white envelope from your back pocket. you press it against his chest, unable to meet his eyes. his hand — warm and broad and comforting — comes up to rest over yours for a moment before he takes the envelope, opening it with a raised eyebrow.

he looks over the tickets that rest inside, before he looks back to you, taken off guard.

“merry christmas,” you whisper, even though the holiday is weeks away. he surges up to kiss you, tickets pressed to your cheek as he licks into your mouth, a surprised noise rising in your throat.

resting your hands on his shoulders, you sink into the kiss, slipping deeper into his lap as his tongue presses against yours, the familiar warmth settling over you.

“how did you..?” he asks, breathless, moving to press kisses over your cheeks and jaw, and you giggle and push him away, his beard tickling your skin.

“i used this thing called money,” you tease, scratching at his beard as he rolls his eyes, “which my lovely boss gives me every two weeks.”

“cheeky,” he laughs, returning the tickets to the envelope and placing it on the desk. “you’ll go with me, yeah?”

not that he has to ask, but it’s still a sweet gesture.

two tickets to a newcastle game are tucked into the envelope, set for some time in the new year. you can’t think of a better way for it to begin.

you know john has a jersey— he wears it on game day. you always appreciate the way you’re able to unashamedly stare at his forearms, corded muscle working as he pours drinks and cleans the counter top. he’s unfairly attractive in it.

he grasps one of your wrists lightly, breaking you from your reverie, turning it enough to drag his lips across your palm.

you fall quiet as you watch him, kissing each of your fingertips, and then pressing your palm against his cheek, looking up at you with reverence, like you were something to worship, to spread out and show his devotion to you.

“you know soap put mistletoe above my door before you came in,” he murmurs and you raise an eyebrow.

“did he?”

he hums low in his throat, hands going underneath your jumper once more. you bite your lip as they graze up and down your sides, inching higher and higher.

“well i’m not one to break tradition,” you reply, leaning in close to press your lips against his.

you happily sit in his lap as you indulge in his kisses, languid and deep, so content you could almost purr.

“i have a gift for you too,” he says against your lips, biting at it lightly before kissing the corner of your mouth. you make an interested noise, not wanting to pull away from his mouth, from him. he chuckles as he gives in to kiss you once more, hands beginning to ruck up your jumper.

he rocks his hips up against yours, and you whine almost pathetically into his mouth, pawing at his shoulders.

“it’s not this,” he says, clearly amused, but pushes you away enough to bring your jumper up over your head, leaving you in one of your nicer, lacy bras — if you wore it specifically for him, you’ll never tell.

he’s kind enough to fold it over and place it on his desk before turning his attention back to you.

“god, look at you,” he marvels, leaning in to press his lips to your collar, down to the valley between your breasts.

you flush under his attention, one hand braced on the middle of your back, his other dragging the fabric of your bra down, laving his tongue over your nipple, biting it gently to a firm peak and sealing his lips over it.

“fuck,” you exhale shakily, gripping the nape of his neck, feeling the way he hardens under your touch, arousal slicking your panties, sticky and wet where you’re pressed against him.

he deftly unhooks your bra, dragging the straps down until it pools in your lap. he immediately moves to mouth over your other nipple, thumb brushing over the hardened nub that’s already shining with his spit.

he stands suddenly, bra falling forgotten to the floor as he settles you onto his desk, licking deeper into your mouth as you move to undo his belt, feeling almost frantic with the need to feel him.

“you’re so gorgeous, darling,” he says against your lips, his own hands unbuttoning your jeans. you manage to pull his belt loose, pushing his jeans and boxers down enough to feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock before he stops you.

“wait a second, love,” he’s gentle as he grasps your wrists. “wanna get yours off first,” he adds.

you pout — just a little — but acquiesce to his request, tilting your hips enough for him to pull your jeans and underwear down to your ankles.

“ah. fuck,” he sighs, exasperated, before he kneels down — a little awkwardly, with the state of his own bottoms — to unlace your boots to drop them to the floor, your panties and jeans following soon after.

“there,” he sighs as he grasps your face for a kiss, and you hum happily against his mouth, gripping him for stability.

“are you sure this isn’t my gift?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, as he drags his mouth to your cheek and then to nip the lobe of your ear.

he laughs, and it goes right to your core, molten heat trickling down your spine, leaking from your pussy to the desk underneath.

“i promise,” he says, voice low, pressing a tantalizing kiss to the soft, sensitive skin behind your ear.

when you open your mouth to reply, he rests two fingers on your bottom lip, almost touching the tip of your tongue.

he’s asking permission, you realize, so you take his wrist to draw his fingers further into your mouth, closing your lips around his thick fingers, tongue slipping between them and sucking them deeper.

“that’s a good girl,” he praises, a deep honey drawl that makes you weak. you swallow back a whine. he presses his fingers down against your tongue, and you blink up at him through glassy doe eyes, still grasping his wrist lightly.

you whimper, when he’s too enchanted with the sight of his fingers deep in your mouth, arousal coating your thighs. glazed eyes turn to you, a hum of approval reverberating in his throat. he slowly withdraws them, your lips glossy with spit.

his fingers drift down to your cunt, already soaking with need, dragging them lazily through your folds to mix your own spit into the mix. he leans down to kiss you, and you rest your hand on his cheek to keep him close.

“so wet for me already, darling,” he marvels as he continues to gather your slick on his fingers, moving up to press gently against your clit, rubbing it in slow, soft circles. “think you can take both?” he glides his fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your walls flutter in anticipation.

you nod eagerly and he leans close to kiss you, licking into the heat of your mouth; at the same time, he sinks both fingers into you, far more gentle that you expected. the stretch catches you off guard, gasping against his lips. he pulls back, a hair’s breadth apart, merely breathing you in as your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of him filling you full.

“too much?” he murmurs.

“just,” with a shake of your head, you breathe in, moving to grip his neck, nails sinking into his skin. you want to leave your own marks on him. “been awhile,” you admit on the exhale, drawing him back in to kiss, relaxing into his touch while he happily gives into you.

your mouth drags from his, to the corner of his lips, over to his cheek, right where the line of his beard starts to tickle your skin. he's kind, and patient, and so, so good to you.

“good?” he asks when you rock your hips into his touch, but he doesn’t start moving his fingers until you actually say yes, pressing the word to his cheek like a promise.

he’s surprisingly delicate with his touch, as he is with everything else when it comes to you, but the filthy sound of your slick and spit fills the air along your quiet noises, choking down your whines and mewls.

soap would be insufferable if he found out about this.

“i know it feels good, love,” he says against your lips, his own curled into a smirk — cocky bastard — “you have to keep quiet for me though, yeah?”

but then his fingers curl and graze the spot inside you that leaves you trembling, head tipping back as your nails dig deeper into the nape of his neck. he continues to rock his fingers against that spot, deadly precision as he takes the opportunity to bite and suck marks onto the column of your throat, the sting of his teeth making you feel delirious with pleasure.

“fuck, john,” you whine as you draw him close enough to hide your face into the collar of his sweater, the scent of cigars and sex making your head spin, thoughts turning to static. “‘m gonna cum,” you pant against his collar, trying so desperately to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not going particularly well.

another few pumps of his fingers, your clit under his thumb, and white hot pleasure pools down your spine. you muffle your moan against him as your legs shake and cum spills over his fingers. he works you through it, soft praises whispered against the crown of your head.

you’re pliant in his arms, all the tension seeping from your body as he slowly withdraws his fingers. your grab for his wrist, eyes bleary and glossy, feeling the weight of his gaze as you draw his fingers into your mouth, licking your release from him.

“fuckin’ hell, love,” he grasps your face, tongue pressing into your mouth, “gonna be the death of me.”

he finally allows you to push his bottoms down enough to free his cock, hard and heavy against his stomach, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. you go to reach for him, eager to touch him just as he touched you, but he captures your wrist and moves to tip you back against the desk.

you grip the hem of his jumper, something of a pout gracing your lips as you blink up at him, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he takes his own off with far less grace than he did your own, but still has enough sense to try and fold it and place it over yours.

it is a gift, after all.

“better?” he asks, a chuckle rising as you immediately move to trace over the planes of his chest, nails scratching through the dark hair that litters his body. faint red marks are left in the wake of your touch, all the way down to his hips, a thatch of hair in a line leading down to his length.

“much,” is your reply as you drag him close to you, nose buried in his throat to smell cigar smoke and sandalwood, the comfort and musk making you keen, impatient for his touch, his kiss, his cock.

he braces one hand by your hip, caging you against him, and you tilt up enough to lace your legs around his waist, wanting to bury yourself into his veins, wanting to be as close as possible. he takes himself in his other hand, dragging it through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

you whine at him.

he gives you a soft kiss before moving to kiss your collar, watching as his cock sinks into you — just the tip. he keeps his hold on himself, dragging himself in and out, feeling the way your cunt tries so desperately to draw him deeper. the wet heat makes his breath stutter, tests his patience so he doesn’t sheath himself completely in one sharp thrust, wanting to do this — needing to do this — properly, even if you are fucking in his office instead of his bed.

“john,” you damn near sob against his temple, lacing one arm around his shoulders, unashamed with how desperate you are to feel all of him.

he accidentally slips from your heat, and guides himself back, notching the fat head at your entrance, already shiny with your desire. he pushes in slowly, and you gasp and grab at him, head tipping back as your eyes close, never having felt so full before.

“f-fuck,” you whine, having enough sense to bring your gaze back to watch as he sheathes himself completely inside you, your clit pressing against the dark hairs at the base of his dick.

“such a good girl for me.” his teeth latch on to the side of your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark, keeping himself still until you mewl out a soft move, please.

he captures your mouth with his own when he starts thrusting in earnest, swallowing each moan and cry that rises from your throat, wishing the desk wouldn’t squeak so fucking loud, the schlick of his cock pumping in and out of your soaked pussy making it impossible to focus on anything else.

he lays you down against the desk, hooking your legs under his arms to press them up by your side, allowing him to push even deeper, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, each a little more brutal than the last. your nails thread through his hair, the strands damp with his sweat, and you bring them down to his shoulders, his arms, digging in sharp to continue leaving your marks all over him.

“careful now, pet,” he taunts, right in your ear, a shiver going down your spine right to your pussy, clenching tighter around him in response. “only mark me if you’re gonna keep me.”

you’re breathless as you respond, the pleasure pooling in your gut and spreading throughout like liquid fire — unable to think of anything but him, and the way he touches you, and the way his teeth sink into your neck until you squeal with the sharp, biting pain that he soothes with his tongue.

“i will, i will,” you say, nails digging in deeper — a show of devotion, of loyalty. “i promise.”

“my darling girl.” the praise, the possession — it burns you from the inside out.

“please, please, please,” you beg, so close to the precipice of your second orgasm, pleasure like venom lining your blood.

“taking my cock so well, love, fuckin’ made for me.” his voice is low, almost a growl, your cum making a thick ring of cream wet the base of him. “you need to cum so badly, don’t you?”

past the point of being able to form words, you cry and nod, tears spilling down your cheeks, overwhelmed, hands moving down to hold him by his waist, too weak to do anything more than lay there and take anything john gives you.

“cum on my cock, darling, i want to feel it.” you’d never think he’d have such a filthy mouth, but it’s just enough to snap the coil of pleasure that’s been building. you arch up into him, his name on your lips, unable to hold back any longer as you shake with the force of it.

he buries himself to the hilt inside you, feeling the pulses of his cock as thick streams of his cum paint your insides, filling you full. he pants out a jesus christ, pressing his weight down on you, his spend starting to leak from where he’s still buried deep inside you.

you lay there, comforted by his weight and warmth, the scent of sex and sweat mixing with the ever-present smell of cigar smoke that’s practically embedded into john’s skin.

after a few minutes of laying there, john presses soft kisses to the column of your throat — over the marks, his marks, that litter your skin — he pulls out of you slowly. you whine at the loss of him, feeling so empty now without him inside you, burrowed close to your heart. his cum drips from your cunt, gathering on the table below.

“let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, pulling his own bottoms up and slipping back into his jumper, walking around the side of the desk — dropping a kiss to your temple — and leaves, coming back only moments later with a washcloth. he wipes you down so gently, a second one dragging over your skin in light strokes to dry you off.

he helps sit you up, gripping your waist and steadying you before gathering your panties and bottoms. he pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to yours before a smirk paints his lips, tucking your panties into his back pocket and helping you into your jeans. as he gathers something from one of his desk drawers, you wrangle yourself back into your own jumper.

“so,” he begins, settling back into his chair and patting his lap, which you crawl into eagerly, as your sense of stability and balance have yet to return, pressing yourself close, “close your eyes.”

you give him a look, though his face gives nothing away. you close your eyes, hearing what sounds like a hinge opening and the sharp snap of a case. his hands go around your throat next, but he doesn’t touch you. he’s quiet for a moment, but then settles his touch back to your waist.

“alright, darling, open up.”

you immediately bring your hand to your throat, feeling the delicate chain that’s now laying there. you gently bring it up, looking over the charm in your fingers, before your breath catches in your throat.

he smiles at you like you’re the sun, and you cup his cheeks, leaning in close to press multiple kisses to his mouth, sniffling a little while he coos at your reaction.

“you’re my favorite christmas present.”

soap is, indeed, insufferable about it when you finally emerge from the back office. he gives you a shit-eating grin, musing out loud that he should hang mistletoe off john’s belt next.

#ink by bambi #secret santa #john price x reader #john price x you #john price au #john price imagine #john price smut #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare smut #modern warfare au

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Text

Living In Color

Azriel x Reader

based on this ask

Summary: After losing everything in the war, you struggle to find the joy in life - until you start having dreams of scarred hands that inspire you to pursue art again.

Warnings: mentions of war, death, trauma/depression

Days blurred together, the dim sunlight that dared to show through the cracks in your window curtains the only sign that time was passing in the outside world. The faelights never turned on in your apartment, food turning stale as you willed your body to shut down, just as your mind had ever since the war.

Everyone was gone. Your mother, father, brother, friends. All were lost to battle - innocent people, gone from this world, and you were left alone to pick up the pieces.

You were once an artist, your favorite subjects to paint being your family and friends. The paintings of their joyful faces surrounded you in your home before you tore them all down, hiding them away in the dark as you did yourself.

You stared at your hands. Hands that were once consistently covered in the bright colors of your paints, now dry and cracked from lack of care. Hands that once created beautiful art and brought joy to yourself and others, now withering away with your heart.

Tears soaked your pillow as you cried yourself to sleep, as you had every night for months. You braced yourself for your usual dreams, the nightmares that haunted you of your mother’s lifeless eyes, your brother’s last words - but they didn’t come.

That night, you dreamt of hands. They were damaged hands, like your own, but they were covered in scars. You didn’t see who they belonged to, but the hands held yours in their own, a soft, gentle touch despite their appearance.

It was the first night you had slept through in weeks, and you managed that day to take a bath. You looked at your own hands in the tub, holding one in the other as gently as the ones from your dreams held you. It was shocking, to feel that you were still capable of such tenderness. That night, you found oils to rub on your hands, soothing the dry cracks before you fell asleep.

Your dreams were, again, filled with those beautiful scarred hands. Tonight, they offered you a flower - a bright yellow daffodil, vibrant like your favorite sweater.

The dreams continued - those hands sometimes bringing you flowers, holding your hands, brushing softly against your cheek. One night, they handed you a paint brush. You jerked awake, tears streaming down your face as you ran through your apartment, turning on every faelight as you opened the door to your closet. You pulled out every painting, the bright faces of people you loved and missed smiling at you through your memories of them.

Something snapped inside of you as you looked at the picture of your mother. You had missed her face so dearly, having only seen it through your nightmares. By hiding the joyful moments, you had only remembered those that haunted you.

As the sun rose that day, you opened up the curtains and let the light in. Pulling on your favorite yellow sweater, you set off towards the art studio that had opened down the road, ready to live in color.

Thanking the woman at the front counter, you borrowed paints and took a spot at an easel. As you stared at the blank canvas, it occurred to you that the idea of painting the people you missed was much easier in thought. You stared down at your yellow sweater, tears threatening to spill as you felt more and more like an imposter. Someone trying to be who you once were, and as much as you wished to be that person again, you knew you never could. Letting out a shaky sigh, you looked for your bag, ready to leave the studio when a voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Having trouble with inspiration?” a sweet voice, like silver bells sounded from behind you. You turned over your shoulder to see the High Lady of the Night Court behind you. Eyes wide, you fumbled for an answer while she smiled softly at you. “My name is Feyre,” she greeted, a tattooed hand reaching for yours.

You took her hand, feeling its softness against your own as you introduced yourself, and it clicked. “Actually, I think I’ve just found my inspiration.”

You eagerly reached for your paints, mixing the colors together in a vibrant yellow, a golden brown, cobalt blue - and painted the hand that gave you the daffodil.

You returned to the studio, day after day painting the hands from your dreams. Your inspiration. The hands that brought color back into your life. These were hands that were scarred, the hands of someone who had been hurt like you had, yet still reached out, still brought light and softness to the world.

Slowly, you began feeling like yourself again. You saw the bright colors of the rainbow, the twinkle of the stars against the night sky. When a child accidentally flicked paint on your favorite blue dress while you painted, you laughed for the first time in ages.

The small boy apologized, his tiny wings tucking in behind him as he gaped at the paint that covered your dress. Feyre ran up behind him, swooping the little tike into her arms as she took in your appearance. “Oh gods, I am so sorry. Nyx, did you apologize to the nice lady?”

You waved her off, giggling as you stood and twirled in your dress. “Actually, Nyx, I think this dress looks even more beautiful now with this extra splash of color.”

The boy giggled, his mother ruffling his onyx locks as she set him down to run back to his painting station. “I really am sorry. I can fix that for you, or replace the dress,” Feyre insisted.

You smiled at her, a true smile at her kindness - something you hadn’t realized how desperately you needed. Adjusting the ribbon in your hair, you shook your head. “Really, I like the splash of purple against the blue. I could use more color in my life,” you promised.

Feyre seemed genuinely surprised and pleased by your reaction, her gaze flicking to your easel, where the latest portrait of those scarred hands rested. She looked around your station, taking in all of the paintings. Dozens of them were set around, and you suddenly found yourself bashful.

“May I ask about your paintings? They’re beautiful. You seem quite inspired by hands.” She spoke in a casual tone, but you had the sense that there was something more to her question.

Nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you shifted your weight from one foot to another. “I struggled, for a long time... after the war.” You swallowed, a pregnant pause filling the air as she waited for you to continue. “I used to paint a lot, but I couldn’t bring myself to for a long time. Until a few weeks ago, I started dreaming of these hands.”

Your gaze flicked to Feyre’s expecting confusion or judgment, but her gray-blue eyes sparkled as she nodded in understanding. You smiled slightly, continuing. “I felt as though I was too damaged to create like I used to, but these hands... It felt like a message from the Mother, or some other force, maybe. That even though I’ve experienced such darkness, I can still create light. That my darkness might even make my colors brighter.”

A small yelp escaped your lips as the High Lady pulled you in for a hug. “Thank you for sharing your story with me,” she murmured, her head dipped into your shoulder. Shakily, you dared your hands to move, reciprocating Feyre’s hug, and a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “How would you like to join me for some tea?”

You nodded, willing back the tears that threatened at the simple kindness. Feyre led the way out of the studio, Nyx taking your hand as he tugged you towards the tea shop, babbling about the hot chocolate he wanted. You giggled at the little boy, a loose curl falling in your eyes as he pulled you into a chair outside the cafe. “Uncle Azzy!” the child shouted, and you brushed the hair out of your eyes to find the most striking hazel ones staring back at you.

Something tightened in your chest at the sight of the striking Illyrian male in front of you, his golden-brown skin and dark features somehow familiar to you. His eyes fluttered for a moment, seemingly shocked by something before he caught his breath.

“Um, pleased to meet you. I’m Azriel,” the name spilling like a song as he reached out to you in greeting. You looked down at the outstretched hand, a spark flaring in your chest at the sight of his scars.

You gasped, grabbing his hand like a lifeline as you flipped it over, running your fingertips along the beautiful scars. Azriel was frozen in shock, unmoving as you gaped at his beauty, never releasing his hand as a tear fell down your cheek. Your eyes locked with his as you whispered, “you are so beautiful.”

Azriel swallowed thickly, an adorable blush creeping over his cheeks at your comment. A bell sounded from the side, drawing the two of you out of your moment. Eyes flicked to the door where Feyre stood with your drinks, a smirk on her face as she handed Nyx his hot chocolate.

“I thought you two might hit it off,” the High Lady said through a bright smile. “Here, Az. I got you a tea too. Oh, and I forgot - Nyx, we have to go home. But the two of you should enjoy your drinks together!” With that, Feyre winnowed away and left you with the literal male of your dreams in front of you.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Azriel ran a hand through his wavy black hair as he looked down at your bright, paint-splattered dress. “So, you paint?”

You laughed, that golden thread between you pulled taught at the sound. “I used to a lot more.” Glancing down at his hands, you smiled. “I’m just getting back into it.”

No, you would never be the person you were before. But as you stared at the shadows that swirled your mate - the darkness who brought you back to the light - you were proud of the person you were becoming.

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lanadelnegan · 29 days

Text

Ghost - Part 2

Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader

Part 1 here

smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)

“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others.

“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me.

“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified.

I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.”

After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much.

While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him.

A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side.

“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.”

“Hey, its good to be home.”

“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”

I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak.

I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading.

Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..

Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks.

I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive.

I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god.

That can’t be…

I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment.

“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.

“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.

I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around.

“Baby, please. Listen.”

“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip.

“Please, just let me explain.”

“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch.

My hands flew up. “Oh, great.”

“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”

“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing.

“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”

I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head.

He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me.

“Yes, actually.”

His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”

"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat.

"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.

"Wh-what?"

"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better."

I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin.

My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.

"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.

I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again."

He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.

2 weeks later...

I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.

The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.

Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window.

Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both.

A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.

I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"

Oh.. it's just..

"The hells going on with you and Negan?"

"What?"

"Ya heard me."

I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.

"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.

"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak.

"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"

Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."

Tears filled my eyes.

“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”

"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?"

"You should know. He only went to your house."

I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.

Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk.

Part 3 here

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yanderestarangel · 7 months

Note

Possessive sex with the Lin Kuei trio (separated) hc plssss

— 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 | "𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌?" | 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— TW : afab anatomy, pet names, degradation, rough sex, extreme sex, v!sex, possessive sex, toxic relationship, exhibitionism.

ੈ✩ 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 ੈ✩

He is very insecure by nature, losing his entire family in the blink of an eye messed with some of Tomas's screws, making him possessive and afraid of losing you, whether literally or sentimentally. He will always ask you if you still love him or if you still want him to be your boyfriend, it always ends with Vrbada fucking you while crying insecurely holding you closer and closer to him as he begs for more and more of you.

Never flirt with anyone, he will suffer too much and even cry when he gets home, he won't accept your excuses, only getting sicker for you, he would assert his dominance over your body. He's a sub! But that changes when you decide to make him jealous, whether on purpose or not.

— reason for jealousy: You were flirting with someone else.

"-Do you want to play (Y/N)?" -He growled, his voice filled with a dangerous tone. "-Alright. You will learn that defying me only brings punishment."

Tomas' control over you has been sealed. "-You will submit to me... You will beg for my forgiveness and obey my every command. No more defiance you fucking slut. Take your punishment like a good boy/ girl." -With a quick and strong movement, Tomas laid you down on the cold kitchen table, the hard wood beneath your back sending shivers of pleasure and discomfort throughout your body. He played with his dick at the entrance to your wet pussy, squeezing your breast tighter.

The feeling of the cold table beneath you, the pain mixed with pleasure, only served to increase your arousal.

"-Who do you belong to?" -Vrbada demanded, in a commanding tone.

"-Say it. Say you're mine and no one else's." -Tomas screamed in anger and fury, as he pushed his dick further into your uterus, he cried, thick tears stained his cheeks as his smoke magic circulated around his entire body, suffocating you one little, leaving you even more dizzy with desire and submission, a dangerous submission.

"-Were you looking for another dick, someone to fuck you better than your husband?" -Tomas shouted between moans, not accepting your apology, slapping your face several times while he hit you harder, he was upset, and didn't want to hide his emotions anymore, you felt pain, pleasure but mainly regret for having flirted with someone else, leaving him insecure, now he was inconsolable, while his cock filled you completely. With a final, powerful thrust, he released his hot seed into your pussy, marking you as his submissive, he pulled out minutes later from inside you, he didn't sleep at home that night.

ੈ✩ 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 ੈ✩

Never provoke this man... Never.

Bi Han doesn't know how to deal with his own feelings, causing him to lose control much faster and take it out on anyone he finds in his path, whether it's you or not.

Bi Han is controlling, to the maximum, even choosing the clothes you leave the house with, if you want to walk around naked in the house, you can, in his eyes and only his, he even encourages you, never outside the house. And if you do, Bi Han will punish you in many ways and his favorite is sexual.

— reason for jealousy: you wore short clothes on purpose to provoke him.

"-What do you think you're doing, parading around like that? You're just asking for trouble, aren't you? Trying to provoke me?" -He clenched his fists, clearly struggling to control his emotions. "-Well, congratulations. You've succeeded. You've managed to make me exceptionally angry and undeniably turned on. Happy now?" -Bi Han stepped even closer, his tone low and menacing.

"-But let me be clear, little one. You may think you're being clever by flaunting yourself like this, but it won't work. I won't let you manipulate me with your little games. I'm not some weak-willed fool."

Without a moment's hesitation, he seized you by the wrist and roughly threw you to the ground. You landed with a thud, your dress tearing under the force. Before you could react, his hand connected with your cheek, a sharp sting spreading across your skin. "-You think you can find someone better than me, little slut? That's quite bold of you." -As he continued to choke you, his grip tight on your neck, his lips brushed against your ear, his voice low and dangerously erotic. "-You want to play games, my sweet whore? Then let's play. But remember, I always win."

With a rough push, he positioned himself between your thighs, spreading them wide. There was an intense pleasure-pain sensation as he forcefully entered you, stretching and filling you completely. "-Fuck... You're so tight. You think someone else could handle you like I do? No one can make you feel this good."

He grabbed your neck with all his strength, his grip on your throat tightened even more, his eyes shining with anger and desire as he drilled into you. "-You think you're so smart, don't you? Challenging me like this... Well, let me show you how pathetic you really are." With every word, he thrusts into you hard and deep, his pace quickening, the force of his movements echoed the anger and frustration he felt because of you, his thrusts became faster, more intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin.

But he had no intention of giving you what you wanted so easily. "-Oh, my sweet little slut, do you want more? But you still haven't learned your lesson. Let's see how far you're willing to go."

ੈ✩ 𝐊𝐔𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆 ੈ✩

Kuai Liang is a very self-assured man, but at the same time, he has problems with trusting people and that includes you too. Always following you to places, regardless of whether he is doing something important or not. Kuai will be your slightly possessive husband, asking you where you were going, who you were going with and what to do. But he wasn't going to fully expose his jealousy to you, just gritting his teeth and feeling his fingertips create sparks of anger, but he wasn't going to say anything, which made you question if he was jealous of you, so, you had the Bad idea to provoke him on purpose, sitting on your friend's lap, and smiling seductively at them, which made Kuai Liang finally explode with anger and possession.

— reason for jealousy :

"-Do you think I would let anyone else have you?" -Kuai Liang growled, he had your friend pinned to the chair, tied with ropes as he fucked you in front of them "-You are mine, this pussy is mine, and I will mark you as mine over and over again. No one else can touch you, just me."

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of his gaze reflecting a mix of emotions.

Anger, jealousy, and fear danced behind his eyes, showing his desperate need to keep you close, to assert his dominance over you. He thrusts his hips up, pushing himself deeper inside you, pleasure coursing through your body. He moans again, this time louder, as he begins to establish a rhythm, his thrusts were strong and aggressive, this time, your dear and kind husband didn't care about anything other than his pleasure, Kuai's eyes danced furiously between your pussy and your friend, who watched everything terrified, while Kuai Liang grabbed your neck, giving you a powerful armbar, your wet pussy continued to drip, proof of your excitement and need for more.

"-You're nothing more than a slut, a toy begging for my touch." -Liang mocked, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. "-You can't cum until I tell you to. You can't feel pleasure without my permission. Remember that, my little slut."

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multific · 1 year

Text

All He Wanted, A Family

Assassin Predator x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You and your mate deal with you baby, who is not always a happy camper.

Your son was now a couple of months old.

Summer soon arrived on the planet as he grew with each passing day.

During the warmer weather, you enjoyed being out more. Of course, with your Mate keeping a close eye on you.

Your tracker dog was always by your side as usual.

You brought out a fur and placed it under a tree, hiding in the shades, with your son in your lap, you tried to relax.

But your son was a very adventurous little guy.

He was very interested in everything and anything.

It all started when he realized he could crawl. Always chasing your dog around in the house, and now, outside he was even worse. While you brought out the fur so he could stay on it, he always found ways to leave it.

Even with just a blink of an eye, he was gone.

Your husband watched from the house as he sat on the porch, watching you and your son in the shades, looking out for predators and things alike.

He could only chuckle as the little boy crawled around and you followed him, bringing him back each time as he passed the imaginable line which you set.

"Can you watch him? I need to head in for food." you said to your mate as you stood up and he nodded once. He now had made a new translator, a device which was so small he made it into a necklace to be always around you.

You headed inside to bring some food out for yourself.

When you exited the house however, your heartbeat picked up.

"Where is he?" you asked as your husband pointed at the woods. "I told you to watch him!" you said as you rushed over, you heard him following you.

"I watched him, he went here."

"You let him out of your sight!" you said as you ducked under bushes, trying to find your boy. "Honey?!" you called out his name but no reply.

You really started to panic now as you walked further into the forest.

He was a fast baby but he really wandered off so much? In your despair, your anger began to rise, you soon turned to your Mate. "Where is he?!"

His eyes met yours but he didn't reply.

"Where's my son?!" you yelled at him as tears filled your eyes. "You lost him! He could be dead! I asked you to watch him!" your tears began to fall as the sun began to set, you knew he had no chance of surviving in the middle of the forest at night. Soon, you heard a small yelp then crying, you ran.

There you found your little baby boy with a huge predator eying him with it's teeth. You were quick in action, grabbing a branch and pushing the monster away as you grabbed your son. Your husband finished off the beast. By the time he turned to look at you, you were rushing back into your home with the crying boy in your arms.

You rushed into the bathroom, finding the medicine cabinet and the healing mist.

"It's okay, I got you." you told him as your heart broke with each tear that rolled down his face. You used the mist and watched as the small wound on his arm disappeared.

When his cries stopped, you headed into his room and sat down on the chair, trying to lull him to sleep and you also fed him.

He never once left your arms, not even when he was asleep.

The door hissed open as your eyes met with his yellow ones.

"I asked you to watch him. He could have died." you said as he took a couple of steps in, the dog followed as it sat down next to your chair.

"Didn't know he was so fast. Didn't watch him close enough. Sorry." you placed a kiss on your son's head as you moved to not look at your husband.

"He could have died." you repeated yourself.

"I'm sorry." you didn't look at him. You were still very angry. "Don't want to lose him or you. Watched for predators, didn't see him being so fast, and thought he was close. I'm sorry."

You could only imagine how hard it was for him to admit his fault and apologise.

"I won't let it happen again." he tried to assure you as he sat down on the floor. Given his size, he was still bigger than you even sitting on the floor. "You are very protective mother. I thought you overreacted until I saw the thing hurt him."

"Of course I am protective. We tried for so long to have a child, I don't want to lose him." he nodded once, understanding your point. "I love him very much, he is my son after all." another nod from your Mate.

"I love you two as well. Family." he said motioning to the three of you.

You moved slightly closer to him, putting an arm out he moved so you could put it around his neck, he moved his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Don't want to lose family. Sorry." he said.

"I love you too." you said with a whisper.

You two stayed in that position for a while.

Then you moved to place him into his little crib. The dog stayed with him as you two went to your own bedroom.

You never want to experience this feeling again. This fear of losing him.

The next day, you found your son not leaving your side for a moment.

You figured the incident scared him enough to never wander off alone again.

While you didn't want him to lose his interest in the world, you at least appreciated that for the time being he would stick with you.

The next day, you were out again, on the fur, under the tree. Your son never once took a step off of the fur, playing with the dog, your Mate joined you which captured the boy's interest. He moved to his father, climbing up the huge Yautja, you smiled as you watched the two interact.

You giggled a little as the boy reached up at his father, trying to reach his face and he got rather frustrated when he couldn't reach.

He groaned as he clicked his mandibles.

At first, you thought it was only a nose he made but when the translator around your mate's neck spoke. "Father." you looked at him as he looked back at you.

"He is growing up too fast. He is already speaking." you said with a sigh. Your mate pulled you close as he moved to lean against the tree.

This was all he ever wanted, a family.

A healthy and happy son, and you by his side, his happy female.

At that moment he thought, maybe you could have more little ones.

For now, he stayed but as soon as he can return to his lab, he will check if your body can handle another pregnancy.

He wanted to check all scenarios.

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

Part 1 Part 2

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