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t-lostinworlds · 2 months

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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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#bhh #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

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anantaru · 1 year

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GENSHIN + LET ME MELT INTO YOU

— ꒰ including ꒱ — heizou, pantalone, childe, alhaitham, xiao x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, kinda soft but also not ??

— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

heizou loved watching you like this, severely struggling to keep your emotions contained while holding yourself against the sheets with pretty tears covering each corner of your eyes.

at any different occasion he would've been in midst of the process of fucking you roughly, but tonight, he was greedy, heizou simply took a contrasting approach to the somewhat of a brat reminding behavior you set forth today.

don't get this wrong though, other times he adored whenever you bite back, it embarrassingly turned his loins on fire when he could clearly discern that you indeed tested him right now, enthusiastically waiting for a response from him.

it's never easy with him and ultimately the little game would finish in heizou triumphing over you, frankly, it didn't matter how much you went through the process of messing with his mind, he'd truthfully have you figured out from the very beginning.

it became a habit now, to watch you squirm, you'd regret you ever thought to have a single chance against him in the first place.

"h-heizou." your attempt to stop his rough touch on you ultimately failed as you lightly curved your back off the mattress when his length was remotely massaging over your soaked folds.

"hm?" it was pretty fucking clear that, like this, you're going to lose your damn mind, "it's too much!"

he gave you not a single chance to voice any rebuttal or apologize for being a little brat, leaving himself completely sheathed right in between the squishy flesh but not once coming close to your hole, to that one place you longed for him the utmost.

"oh!" you could distinguish the insincerity in his tone from a mile away. "i do apologize, dear."

your confused look quickly flashed before him when he playfully patted his cock head on your pussy, bathing in your whines.

they turned him on, the more you had exhaled them gravelly, more so in a shaking timbre, he could notice himself throb on your folds, "i wasn't able to note anything important from your mindless blabbering."

at his words, you felt the raw drag of his rough length again, almost torturous and messy, graciously rubbing it on your delicate flesh while simultaneously smearing the filth over your puffy clit to have you coated with both his pre and your slick.

the next shaking moan you heavily heaved went straight to his groin, "please, i'm sorry!" it didn't help that your body was jolting from the overstimulating factor of his precise targeting, that your eyes had grown glassy and low lidded, your lips swollen from the numerous amounts of times you bit down to muffle your noises.

heizou wondered if it was time to give you what you want, lazily grinding himself over your wet pussy before slowly lowering his head to chase your lips, indulging in your sweet cries, "do you think you'll be good now?"

— ꒰ PANTALONE ꒱

you spread your thighs for pantalone, a little more, while your fingers were playing with your entrance and putting on a show.

jaw slacked, you gently rubbed your middle finger over your hole, yet despite that still fending your gaze from him, being far too ashamed to see pantalone stare at you so intently, so, menacing almost.

"add a finger." he commands, it wasn't a question, it was something he required for you to do .. kind of, belittling, but you regardless do as he said.

with one hand you had yourself propped up and stabilized your entire weight on it while you naturally let the first finger be sucked in, only to the first knuckle with the slight split of your cunt being barely perceivable.

a slight relief washed over your skin as you felt your body heat grow, lightly pumping the finger in and out, "how does it feel?" pantalone's voice was low, tranquil and immensely controlling, "tell me everything."

while you pleasured yourself he slowly got rid of his pants, the jingle of his belt echoing through the room.

he was pulling them down entirely and quickly discarding of them with his boxers heavily outlining the big tent.

he beckoned you to move back to the headboard of the bed while he lowered himself to the mattress, settling in between your legs, "don't stop." your mind was dwindling with anticipation, one single finger of yours was nothing in comparison to the real deal, to pantalone's cock bottoming in and out of you in his usual fast approach.

"please." you're weakly heaving, "i need you." you didn't have to tell him, pantalone had already deciphered that by the wet squelching noises a single finger was capable of making, "be good."

he's urging you, pulling down his boxers with his cock springing free, grabbing it in his palm to lazily stroke his length while spreading his pre over the slit. "be good and i'll give you what you want."

you mewled but kept going, you felt an additional layer of pleasure inflicted on you once you carefully danced your eyes over the wonderful play right in front of you, that being him fisting his cock into the little tunnel of his hand.

you rubbed yourself faster and kept going, your nipples by now standing up and entirely erected as he, in a trice, swatted your hand away to abruptly fill you with his cock.

"f-fuck, baby!" your mouth hung low with your throat drying out when he quickly lowered himself to lay flat on your body, leaving you no time to adjust to him at all.

your legs wrapped around his waist in an instant, keeping him close when you cried into his shoulder, "you see?" he notes, still relaxed despite your cunt violently clenching down on his girth, "that's what you get when you behave."

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

you embarrassingly hid your face in the fabric of childe's jacket when you straddled him all graciously, in his office, where at any moment someone could come burst in and catch you both.

it was in vein to be mad at ajax for it, he treasured being close to you and although his work schedule was tightly packed, there was always some space to squish in some additional time with you.

"shh." archons, his slender hands fell absolutely maddening on your thighs, more when he playfully squeezed the skin, "you don't want someone to check up on the noise you're making, hm?"

of course you wouldn't want that, but fuck, childe made it extra difficult for you today. "I-i don't!" you were a panting mess, whining for the man that was the sole reason you were in this position in the first place.

his cockhead was repeatedly nudging onto the swollen splotches of your velvety walls, it all felt lewd and disgustingly good, tremendously hot when you continued to grind down on his erected member with his guidance.

"but-" he's smirking, his pretty eyes locking down on where you were soiling his clothes.

"i don't want you to get a wrong idea." childe was suddenly pulling your head towards him with one hand, placing his lips right in front of your ear, "i love the sounds you make for me." childe was bottoming out, entirely burying his length into you, "only for me."

you squeak at the roughened pace and held onto his neck for your dear life while he took over each square of control, tearing it from your grasp.

the string of tiny whines of his names weren't able to be spotted by him as he continued to use you as his cocksleeve, his dear angel who'd always be here to warm him up, to make him sloppily cum deep inside your pussy.

he was so warm, so big and you caught yourself clenching down on him with his thrusts becoming jagged, a harsh groan through his clenched jaw being the ultimate evidence of that fact.

you struggled to keep him all in yet childe found it adorable, as he always did.

how, whenever he dragged you down so you'd swallow his complete length, you'd quickly scrunch your brows together with a couple blurred wrinkles showing themselves on your forehead.

bringing you closer to him, he selfishly pulled you back and forth, the cutest look being laced on his handsome face when his ragged breathing was lurking on your skin.

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱

alhaitham could never tear his eyes off you, his gaze open wide, observing your every muscle grow rigid at every new raw drag of his cock within your walls.

he's so heavy in you and if you were trying to describe it, which was difficult in its entirety, you'd start on how overflowing it felt, how thick and strong inside, how it accurately rubbed over your sore spots.

he leaned forward to make sure to get a clear, good look on your teary expression, "you okay?" he whispers on your lips before dragging your hips towards him to have his cock fully enveloped by you, stilling his movements.

"y-yes." although it became quite difficult to breathe for you, from the way he had flushed his body on top of yours, it still didn't stir you off your hazy euphoria. "please move!"

between the weak knocks of your hand on his broad chest and your desperate mewls, alhaitham grazed you with the sweetest smile he had available.

"whatever you say." he knows you, every nook and cranny of your sweet spots embedded in his mind and he can see it, see how he was hitting all those spots by the corrupted expression on your face.

you flinched as your body went back from relaxing to being dragged back and forth by his bare hands, your tits bouncing up and down in tandem of his precise, deep thrusts.

your throat made it more difficult for you to voice a single syllable, instead you cried out in a chorus of unclear blabbering, every sharp ram of his cock, like a dagger, pinching against your warm skin.

you didn't expect him to be able to go quicker, the pace he went for now was maddening and thrilling, his eyes were too, dragging over every little square of your body, your cute tits, your swollen lips, squished tummy and hands playing with your sore nipples.

alhaitham felt seen, not only was it his dirty thoughts being able to rush out of him, or how he turned the little fantasies he had bristling in his mind into reality today, but how comfortable he felt with you by his side, didn't matter if next to him, or like right now, under him while he was fucking you brainless.

— ꒰ XIAO ꒱

all of xiao's focus was on you and all of your focus was on him.

it's as if the world stood still in this moment, in those fleeting seconds of pure joy inflicted on each other only you mattered to him.

being intimate in its complete form was a huge deal for xiao, it felt surreal to be able to lay in bed with you, make love and melt all his frustration into your body.

he was rough when he pushed his lips on top of yours, chasing your tongue with his own and suckling on your wet muscle when he continued to hump your clothed pussy.

archons, you made him feel so so good, his voice was hushed and gritty, his hands finding both sides of your hips to keep you down on the bed, dark locks falling into his face.

you break the heated kiss to take a much needed breather, sinking your gaze to watch your wet panties outlining your squishy folds, his controlled pace and rubs only setting a new feeling in you.

no longer was the room silent, it echoed with various sounds and heavy breathing coming from both of you, xiao would most of the times prevent himself from moaning, instead humming affectionate desire towards you.

but his cock, his heavy cock was ruthless and maddening, it didn‘t matter how often you had done it before, it‘ll always leave a significant impression on your body afterwards.

"xiao— xiao!" your little whines seemed like a request, an unvoiced one, "please, i can‘t take it anymore." you emphazised your point when you lightly wiggled your hips, your clothed folds grinding up to meet the raw trail of his cock.

"not yet." he suddenly responded, his breath was fogging on your skin and arose the little hairs on the back of your neck, your sensitive pussy sobbing when xiao carefully kneaded your folds with his length, "this feels pleasant."

you didn‘t get a chance to protest nor beg him not to continue, you finally wanted him to fuck you properly, to impale you with his heavy cock instead of carrying on with his teasing— with the teasing in question not even being perceived as one by him.

the poor nerves on your lower region, tingling with sweet sensations, it was tedious and your thighs were on fire from the additional amounts of times you jerked your hips up to get into a good spot for xiao to massage you with his length.

"almost." he‘s assuring you now, in his familiar timbre muffled with a shaking exhale, placing his middle and ring finger on your burning clit to draw vicious circles on the splotch, "a-almost there."

6K notes · View notes

lyvndr · 10 months

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Thinking about modern Wanderer, who's your secretly needy roommate, who always thinks about you during late nights where his sex drive is at an all-time high.

Thinking about modern Wanderer who, in the depths of night, crawls out of the bedsheets just to pull up images of you on his phone, sliding his boxers down his legs to reveal his half-hard cock.

Thinking about modern Wanderer, who lets out the softest moans through bit lips as he stares at images of you, each photo zoomed into your legs as he thought more and more about how lewd you would make him look.

Thinking about modern Wanderer, who cums so quickly at the thought of you on top of him, smiling sadistically while he squirms around, imagining you lowering yourself onto his dick.

Thinking about modern Wanderer, who starts to hump at his pillows while staring at your photos, your innocent, unknowing smiles in each and every photo pushing him closer and closer to the edge—

until you walk in.

“Oh—! O- Oka— ohohohohokay—!!”

Sinful squelches from the vigorous amount of lube on your roommates dick corrupted the room's previously quiet and peaceful atmosphere, and Wanderer's high-pitched moans added to the sheer sin of the room.

How he had managed to get here with you straddling him and ruthlessly jerking him off was something he couldn't even try to think about. In fact, the boy's too dumbified and fucked up to even have a functioning train of thought that isn't about how hard your hand is squeezing his dick, or how merciless you were for jerking him at such a quick pace.

You're trapped between Wanderer's legs as one wraps around your torso, constantly kicking at the air when he gets closer and closer to the edge. His other leg is laid on the bed, still around your sitting figure, but remains resting on the bed— unless he's also kicking the sheets with his heel, having completely given up on keeping his composure.

Both of your hands twisted on his dick while they were practically riding it. The wetness from Wanderer's pre-cum mixed in with the lube was beginning to kill him; his eyes rolled back on numerous occasions, widening, squinting, or sometimes he'd close them for a little bit until you focus your hands on a veiny area, to which he goes crazy and squeals, squirms, and eventually loses all sense of self control.

“Ghh— Go‐ d— pleease I jus— just—! Oh–!”

Wanderer began to heave air from every corner and crevice of his lungs until they were too close to empty. He'd inhale sharply and breathe most of the air out as a signal that he's close. Wanderer was at a loss for coherent words, so to make up for it, he babbled, moaned, cried, gripped his bedsheets so hard that they began to tear, feeling that small string holding him together being shredded apart little by little, oh-so lustfully close that the string was about to—

snap.

“ffff— fuckfuckfuckff– FUCK—!!”

Wanderer screamed, and between your hands and from his dick spurt heavy amounts of your roommates cum, the liquid spattering all over your hands, face, T-shirt, and bare legs.

You've yet to say a word to Wanderer ever since you caught him masturbating to photos of your earlier, curious to see if he'd be affected by your sheer, deafening silence through his loud moans and cries. However, to your dissatisfaction, he didn't react at all to it— he didn't seem bothered by your utter silence.

It seems he didn't get much of a punishment yet for not telling you about his rut sooner...

“H... Hey,” Wanderer mutters through several pants, “wh— what are you... Ghh—!!”

You, without warning, lowered yourself onto his sensitive and overstimulated dick, taking in the stretching feeling, as well as his desperate cries for you to not continue.

A smile grows on your face.

Now you're definitely sure he'll react to this.

2K notes · View notes

loves4yukio · 7 months

Text

Unspoken Desires

Negan x F!Reader

Summary : You consistently rejected Negan's romantic advances because you didn't wish to become another one of his conquests. You avoid him as much as you could, but things became more intricate when he revealed his sole interest in you and no one else.

Warnings (18+) : SMUT, age gap (you are in your 20's and Negan is in his mid-late 40's), swearing, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Negan, secret relationship, no use of y/n, mentions of sex (?) — I'm not sure what to put, so if you have any advice, I'll take it.

Word count : 5k6

You endured what felt like the most draining day of your existence. Your time outdoors alongside Simon, engaging in a lengthy run, exceeded the usual duration, leads you to return later than anticipated to the Sanctuary — where you seek solace in the privacy of your bedroom. Shedding your work attire, you exchanged it for the comfort of shorts and a cozy sweater, an outfit suited for rest. Seated at your desk, you embarked upon the task of drafting the expedition report, as mandated by Negan.

You toil in silence, engrossed in the task, driven by your yearning to assimilate into the community and meet Negan's expectations. When you're at last content with the outcome, you glance up from your desk, eyeing the time displayed on the clock. 'It's getting late, I need a break,' you muse. The alluring temptation of watching a movie, an idea often suggested by Negan, tempted you irresistibly.

As a recent addition to the Saviors, you had caught Negan's profound interest, the reasons for which remained a mystery to you. On numerous occasions, you found his intense gaze fixed upon you, his signature smile accompanying his playful, suggestive banter. The effect it had on you was undeniable, stirring an internal storm you couldn't easily dismiss.

Occasionally, you yielded to his allure, but it always left you in self-reproach, retreating into seclusion and creating distance. Negan always persisted, unwilling to swiftly relinquish his grasp on you. He was resolute, refusing to let you go to another.

Negan was known for his ladies' man side. He already had six wives by his side. Negan being Negan, he had proposed you become one of them, but you persistently declined, knowing it wouldn’t bring you joy. Yet, here you found yourself, part of his inner circle and laboring under his directives. This didn't deter him from the amusement of seducing you, sending your senses spinning — a pleasure he relished, especially the moments when you'd bite your lip each time he whispered something dirty in your ear.

Satisfied with the task's completion, you left your chambers, strolling silently through the corridor of the floor designated for Negan and his wives. You had the liberty to wander there at will, given your residence on that floor — Negan had made it clear that the floor was as much your abode as his and his wives'.

As you lingered in the room's alcove, the soft hum of the television reached your ears. Despite the dimness, the silhouettes on the couch were distinguishable. For a fleeting moment, you observed Negan and a few of his wives holding each other tenderly, their forms intertwined in a embrace.

This simple yet profound sight stirred a tumult of emotions within you. While relieved not to be entangled in Negan's romantic affairs, you couldn't stifle the growing pangs of jealousy. Negan embodied the epitome of your ideal man : handsome, funny, sociable and seemingly damn good at sex. Some nights, the sounds of their cries of pleasures echoed through the corridors upstairs, teasing a tale of their intimate rendezvous.

With the utmost care, you glided across the floor, your steps hushed to avoid disrupting their tranquility. Neither of them caught a glimpse of your passing silhouette ; such was your stealth. Arriving in the kitchen, you prepared a light snack, allowing the gentle whir of the refrigerator to fill the space.

Within the serene hush of the living room, where the dimmed lights cast the room in a veil of darkness, an aged cowboy movie flickered on the screen. Negan slumped on the generous couch, a soft sigh escaping him as Frankie sought solace against his shoulder. A fleeting moment of quiet ensued until one of them decided to shatter the silence.

“Has she returned from work ?” Sherry inquired on your behalf, arching an eyebrow, her attention diverted from the movie flickering on the television.

Shifting his gaze toward her, Negan emitted a noncommittal sound, almost an 'I dunno,' just before ensnaring her in a kiss filled with such fervor that it deterred her from pursuing the topic. Using it as a diversion, he let his hand slide down her back, the touch lingering on the black fabric of her dress, seeking more intimate contact.

“I'll be back, I'll fetch us some snacks. I'm feeling a bit peckish,” Amber murmured, beginning to withdraw from the group. However, Negan's hand swiftly seized her thigh, wordlessly commanding her to remain where she was.

“You're not fucking going anywhere, darling. I've got this covered, ladies,” Negan declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a final surreptitious kiss, seizing Frankie's jaw for a change, he rose to make his way towards the kitchen, where he finds you. Unnoticed by you, he seized the chance to gaze at you, slyly running his tongue over his lips.

Deep in thought, you positioned the containers on the kitchen counter. When you eventually faced him, you briefly glanced away, continuing your preparations ; as if focusing on the task could banish the persistent memories clouding your mind. Negan picked up on your deliberate actions, earning one of his trademark, smug smiles.

“How long have you been here, sweetheart ?” His question sliced through the air, his tone betraying no notice of the tension that crept into your body upon hearing his voice.

“Not too long. I just came down,” you responded, daring to meet his gaze once more.

Observing him move around the central cabinet, selecting a variety of nuts to fill a small dish, he paused in his desire to approach the refrigerator, positioning himself behind you. He pressed your form gently against the counter, allowing his weight to meld with yours. His warm breath danced across the curve of your neck as his lips drew close to your ear.

“Aren't you joining us ?” he inquired, planting tender kisses against your soft skin, echoing a familiarity from moments when you were alone.

Your gaze remained evasive, yet inwardly, you pondered the wisdom of joining them in the living room. The situation was already taut with tension, and you hesitated to further complicate matters. On one hand, the desire to spend time with them lingered, but on the other, an apprehension loomed — an uncertainty of what might unfold, beyond your control.

“I'm not sure that's wise, Negan,” you murmured softly, breathlessly.

“Smart enough to handle it, darlin',” Negan replied with a sly smirk, dismissing your concern.

He remained silent, his hazel eyes fixed upon you in quiet contemplation. Your body tingled under his fleeting touch, heightening the feverish sensation as he grazed against you. Carefully tearing open a bag of chips, you delicately poured a portion into a bowl, then turned to present it to him.

“Here. I wouldn't want you to miss the movie because of me,” you said, offering an innocent smile.

The warmth and tenderness of your presence felt soothing, as though it seamlessly melded with his, an indelible union. With each step, he sought to intoxicate himself within this fleeting moment, wishing it could linger a little longer. Ceasing the intimate connection by turning towards him brought a sense of discomfort to Negan, especially when he was reveling in the closeness.

His hands mirrored your actions as you turned to face him, his countenance etched with seriousness, his unwavering gaze fixed upon you. Lifting the bowl of chips you'd prepared, he wordlessly returned it to the counter, observing you as if something unusual was unfolding. His scrutiny delved deep, as though attempting to decipher the depths of your soul.

“Then go to your room,” his words sliced the air, unexpectedly severe, nearly cutting.

His stare posed a challenge, urging you to venture beyond the ordinary. It was no longer just about the movie, and you were acutely aware of this shift. He was testing you.

Your brow arched in response to his intense scrutiny, granting him permission to draw nearer. You felt defenseless, adrift, and utterly powerless. His husky voice only added to your sense of unease. It was absurd how effortlessly you seemed to be losing your self-possession, akin to a fragile leaf that could be easily crumpled in his grasp. The very notion made your heart race within your chest.

Enveloped by the weight of his penetrating gaze, you hesitated to even reach out to touch him. You found yourself silently studying him, attempting to decipher the cryptic undertone of his words. Tilting your head ever so slightly, you cast a swift, cautious glance around, ensuring no prying eyes were upon you, before returning your focus to him.

He stood before you, a commanding presence, his unwavering, intense gaze fixed upon you. Was it even your place to be standing alongside them ? You blinked, releasing a breath as you succumbed to the overwhelming closeness. It might have appeared peculiar, perhaps even self-centered, but you would have preferred if his wives were absent. It could have been the attraction you felt toward Negan… or for some undisclosed reason.

“Must I, really ?” you blurted in a voice barely louder than a whisper, surrendering to the game. “Seems to me like you're eager for my company. Don't you ?”

“Oh, you think so, huh ? You don't have a damn clue about the game you're playing, sweetheart.”

His lips, once momentarily dry, became moistened by a subtle lick, accentuating his wolfish grin. Your hips were gently pressed against the counter's edge, his eyes traversing your form, observing your casual attire. Despite the room's darkness, his gaze fixated upon you, brimming with unwavering attention.

Within moments, you leaned against the nearby furniture, settling there while maintaining an unbroken gaze with him. Negan briefly scanned the kitchen's entrance before redirecting his focus back to you. Ensnared under his intense scrutiny, you found yourself entranced, incapable of averting your eyes from the fervor of his. Each step he took toward you sent shivers down your spine, accelerating the rhythm of your heart. Your breaths grew shallower, the atmosphere thick with an electric charge.

“Don't start something that you can't finish,” he moved a step nearer.

“Who said I couldn't see it through ?” you retorted mischievously.

Negan moved with a predator's intent, every step bringing him closer to you until he stood mere inches away. In that suspended moment, it felt as though time had halted, the world vanishing to leave only the confined space that separated the two of you. The passing seconds dragged by, laden with anticipation, until he loomed over you, finally capturing your face in a firm yet gentle hold, drawing it close to his. His intense gaze traced every curve of your eyes and lips, as if they beckoned to him.

As his fingers secured your face, a soft moan escaped your lips, lost amidst the hollow of his kiss. The ensuing embrace was fervent, ablaze with passion, and you responded with the entirety of the longing you held for him. However, Negan aimed to tantalize you, so he permitted the kiss to endure for just a few moments, kindling a flame within you and intensifying your longing for more. Releasing a frustrated sigh, you felt an intense longing — an unquenched fire that left you parched.

“Now there's a spot on the couch waiting for your pretty ass,” he remarked, letting you go. With a bottle of liquor and the two snack bowls in hand, he strode away, leaving you behind.

Returning to the living room, the movie played on, and he seamlessly carried on watching it, feigning normalcy by exchanging a kiss with one of his wives. It was disquieting to witness the charade of his role as the perfect husband with them, all the while engaging in infidelity with you.

“Screw me…” you muttered under your breath before exiting the room, carrying your tray toward the living area.

Sherry arched a curious eyebrow upon witnessing you arrange the appetizers on the coffee table, casually taking a few pistachios as she passed by. Unaware of your true intent, she observed you taking a seat on the sofa — pretending to concentrate fully on the movie playing on the television. It was then that she realized you intended to join them in watching the film.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, Negan slipped off his shoes and stretched out along the couch, observing your approach without quite meeting your gaze. Amber perched at the edge of the sofa, indulging in the snacks from the bowls.

Leaning behind Amber — careful not to touch her, Negan reached out with his leather-clad hand toward you. His fingers delicately slipped under your sweater, making direct contact with your skin, absentmindedly caressing it without averting his eyes from the television. You attempted to divert your attention to the screen, as though nothing had transpired. Nevertheless, your body responded intensely to his tender caresses, the sensation mingling with the remnants of his previous kiss, drawing you closer, yearning for more contact.

With every delicate rise of his fingers, it was as if you were engulfed in an irresistible yet tormenting inferno. Despite the turmoil within, an appearance of composure had to be maintained, a guise of indifference. His actions appeared effortless, his focus fixed on the screen, while his touch crept higher and higher, only to smoothly readjust as Amber settled in between you on the couch. He cleared his throat, flashing his characteristic shit-eating grin.

The movie merely served as a facade, concealing the true currents swirling in the room. The tension became almost suffocating, an unspoken magnetism pulling at your souls, yet no one acknowledged the brewing tempest, recklessly dancing with fire. The intensity between you both had swelled to an almost tangible thickness, enough to be sliced through with the sharpest blade. You cast a feverish glance toward Frankie, prompting her to sit upright, sensing the charged atmosphere.

“I think I'm ready for bed,” Frankie whispered a little suddenly.

“Same, I'm getting really sleepy,” Amber added.

“Mhm, I'm heading off too. Try not to stay up too late, guys,” Sherry said as she followed the other two women.

“Sleep tight, ladies,” Negan's parting was sealed with a tender kiss to each of the women, yet his unwavering gaze remained locked with yours. He was aware of your watchful gaze and took the opportunity to playfully tease you.

They dispersed into the solace of their individual chambers, melting into the shadows. While maintaining a facade of attention towards the television, he covertly tracked their movements until he was certain of your seclusion. Then, he turned toward you, a silent entreaty woven into the language of his gaze, beckoning you closer as if the very essence of his being yearned for your nearness.

“Come here,” he murmurs, gesturing with his raised arm to offer you space beside him.

You edged closer to his inviting warmth, shifting on the couch to draw nearer. The instant you nestled against him, his embrace enveloped you. His fingertips ventured down your back, making tender contact with your skin, a delicate dance of caresses. Nestled comfortably against him, your head found a cozy perch upon his shoulder, basking in the tenderness of his touch. His actions lulled you, evoking a melting sensation within.

“What's runnin' through that head of yours, darlin' ?” he murmurs in your direction.

The gentle strokes ceased. His hand settled on the curve of your lower back, doing nothing more but imprinting an imperceptible memory of his tender touch upon your skin. Negan's actions seemed deliberate, as if he sought to ignite a response within you, desiring to witness your own initiative, rather than taking the lead himself. In his ideal scenario, your body would have already be over his, seeking warmth. He harbored vivid images of it, yearning for what he'd envisioned on countless evenings.

“I don't know,” you exhaled, your words barely audible, your gaze unwaveringly locked with his. “About everything, and nothing at all.”

“I'll be damned, sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice a velvety rasp, “Uncertainty can be a wicked thing, can't it ? Everything and yet nothin', all wrapped up in one pretty package.”

The TV volume remained low, affording him the chance to catch any stray sounds. He was vigilant, ever mindful of his wives who, despite retiring to their rooms, could unexpectedly intrude at any instant. Negan wasn't particularly concerned about being caught in a passionate liaison with a woman ; if it were solely up to him, he'd fuck you right there on the balcony in front of everyone, demonstrating to all that you belonged to him. But it was more for your sake that he wished to avoid it — he knew you probably wouldn't want to be seen sharing sex with him.

A hush settled in the room as you rose, resting your hand on his chest. Your heart stubbornly refused to slow down while the background movie appeared to have lost its significance. Your gaze fixated on Negan's figure, captivated by the intensity of his dark, engulfing eyes.

“You need to stop giving me that look, Negan,” you stated.

“I can't help it if you bring out that look in me, sweetheart,” he replied, his lips curved in a smirk.

Slowly, your eyes traced his features, observing every detail from his lashes to the salt and pepper shade of his beard. Perching up on your knees, you take a careful glance around the room to make sure there was no one there. Assured of the privacy, you descended slowly, draping a leg over his, finally settling atop him, your breaths growing unsteady.

“You look like you're about to devour me on the spot,” you exhaled, sensing his body tensing beneath you.

“Well, babydoll, can't blame you for feeling a little nervous with ol' Negan here.”

His gaze narrowed, intensifying as curiosity and amusement danced within his eyes. Eager to discover the path of your actions, he deliberately halted even the subtlest of gestures toward you. And his anticipation was met. You placed your hands on each side of his shoulders, the contact of your pelvis against his eliciting a gasp of your mouth.

“Negan, I— Oh, for fuck's sake…” you blurt out, leaning in, nearly pressing against him.

“Seems cat's got someone's tongue, huh,” Negan chuckles, softly grazing your chin with his gloved hand.

Flushed with heat, you gently traced your fingers along his pristine white t-shirt, tucking the edges to sense his warmth against your fingers. Surprisingly, your boldness seemed to gratify him. Without delay, his hands found their way to your thighs, embracing your skin before gliding down to your hips, drawing you nearer. He bent his legs, pulling you close as possible, as if ensnaring you within his desires.

“Mhmm, that's it, keep it up, sweetheart. Just. Like. That.” his raspy voice growled.

The tension between you amplified with the gentle touch of his fingers caressing your skin, accompanied by his satisfied, teasing smile. Swiftly, he seizes your face, drawing you in for a direct and passionate kiss. Your lips eagerly met his, an urgent yearning manifesting as if they had craved this union for an eternity.

Enthralled by the passion conveyed in that kiss, he reasserted his hold on your hips, drawing the weight of your pelvis closer to his in an almost covetous manner. Every inch of your body responded to the fervor. Suppressing his profound yearnings for so long, he yielded, allowing his hands to trail along your curves. A sigh slipped from your lips at the sensation. His touch ventured beneath the fabric of your shorts, grasping your ass firmly. His action was almost too abrupt, considering how controlled it had been until now.

You were no longer the master of your actions, a mere observer of your own surrender. Unable to resist any longer, you yielded to the urge, shedding your suffocating sweater in a desperate attempt to ease the fire consuming your body. It seemed unbelievable that such a scene was unfolding, you that fighting valiantly against the tide of temptation, determined not to succumb.

Your breath mirrored his, swift and erratic, as your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt. Your fingers, curious and explorative, roamed across his skin, entwining in the few hairs as if seeking to uncover every secret of this uncharted territory.

Your lips sought out his cheek, trailing a series of kisses along the contour of his jaw. A soft sigh escaped you at the tantalizing touch of his beard against your lips, and you closed your eyes, imagining the sensation of it grazing between your thighs. The journey of kisses halted upon reaching the hollow of his neck. Gazing up at him, your eyes deepened with a smoldering intensity, betraying the fervent desire coursing through you.

“Doll, staring at me like that makes me as hard as a rock,” Negan teases, a sly grin dancing on his face.

“Oh, hush.”

Your tongue lazely passed over your lips as your sweater cascaded to the wayside. An almost involuntary movement drew your pelvis toward a search for friction, yearning to stoke the burgeoning flame deep within. Negan's hand clasped your jaw, a means of asserting dominance. He seized your lips in an intense kiss as you sought another after removing your sweater — an interlude far too fleeting for his taste to let it end there.

Having severed the kiss, having imbued it with the bittersweet flavor of his longing, he gently drew you back, his hand anchored to your face. In the subdued room, his gaze nearly disclosed a hint of regret for not being able to explore the contour of your chest more intimately. He indulged in the delight of relishing a closer sensation by letting his fingers glide from your neck to the delicate curve of one of your breasts, tenderly caressing it.

"Damn, babydoll, look at you. So damn sexy," Negan rumbled in a husky tone, his words carrying a mix of admiration and appreciation for what he was seeing — what he was feeling.

In the pursuit of evoking a reaction from your body, he persisted in his caress, his index finger accompanied by his middle finger captivating the tip of your mound to make it harden further. Allowing his lips to envelop your flesh button, he began to gently suckle, his hand cupping and kneading your second breast while his other hand glided down your back, drawing you nearer to him, as if such closeness were even possible. Simultaneously, he urged you to continue the friction that your pelvis created against his, while beneath the thick fabric of his gray trousers, his growing member was already palpable.

You sensed your heart pounding against your chest, sending tremors through your entire being. The passion ignited such a fervor, inducing a wetness between your thighs that heightened with each subtle motion against his bulge. As he worked on the first reddened mound, he shifted his attention to the second, prolonging the intimacy without breaking away. His hand, departing from the comforting warmth of your skin, ventured further, becoming more invasive as it found its place between your thighs.

You let out a soft sigh as his hands grazed your fevered skin. In touch with the cloth of your shorts, he effortlessly detected your moisture with a gentle, deliberate press. His smile brushed against your skin, teasing your hardening bud as he intensified the caress of his fingers against your welcoming depths, eliciting you a moan that sent shivers down his spine.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs huskily, his words brushing against your skin.

Each shift of your body against his made you acutely aware of his hardness pressing against your lower abdomen, igniting vivid, consuming thoughts. His words and the sensations from his hands evoked a swarm of butterflies in your chest.

Passionate, moist kisses lingered on your lips, easing your sighs into delicate moans. Struggling to keep your responses in check, aiming not to draw the attention of his wives — who, you prayed, were sound asleep in their chambers, only served to heighten your fevered state. As the kisses deepened, you glanced down to witness the unfolding intimacy between you. The sensation was wet and intoxicating, a feeling you adored, yet it failed to satiate your longing ; you craved more, like an ache that consumed you.

Once more, your hands ventured under his t-shirt, gradually raising it to uncover his tonic abdomen amidst the subdued light of the television. As your hands glided around him, ascending his back to help disrobe him, your hips resumed their movement, driven by the burgeoning passion stirring within you.

You let out a hiss as your thighs quivered around him, feeling the discomfort of your shorts. Using your fingertips, you eventually made it to the edge of his pants, playfully tugging them down intermittently while seeking his approval through eye contact.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Negan exhaled deeply, smirking against your jaw.

He snarled and moved aside your damp underwear. Your desires were explicit, needing no further communication for him to comprehend your needs. He grazed his finger along your sensitive areas, savoring the sounds escaping your lips. Sensing your hands clutching his shoulders, he starts tracing circular motions around your nerve bundle, causing you to writhe on top of him.

“W-Wait,” you managed to say, widening your eyes, a surge of pleasure building as he persisted.

“Shh, let me take care of you. Cum for me,” he responded, prompting your release against his hand. “You're doing so well, sweetheart,” he praised you.

He lapped at your juices greedily on his fingers, revealing in the taste of your arousal. Encircling his arm around your delicate form, he effortlessly maneuvered to switch your positions, laying you on your side. You yielded without protest, sinking into the cushioned comfort of the sofa.

Leaning against the cushions with one arm, he stood tall above you and leaned in for a passionate kiss, his other hand swiftly pulling away the last garment covering your body, exposing you to the open air. Without needing assistance, he tore away your panties and eager to remove his own pants and boxers, freeing himself.

As you shared a kiss, he momentarily paused to collect saliva on his hand, which he used to moisten himself, locking eyes with you intensely. There was no turning back for both of you.

“Negan,” you gasp, a fervent ache consuming you.

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg me,” he demands.

“Negan, please… I want you so bad,” you murmur in a quivering, warm tone near his ear, your eyes growing heavier as your bodies press together.

Grasping his girth, he glides it along your folds, teasing before exerting pressure to breach your intimacy. A guttural sound escapes his throat as he leans back, relishing the feeling of penetrating you. Despite the discomfort, you tremble, releasing a stifled moan as he tantalizes your wetness with his thumb. Retracting, he positions himself on his knees, guiding his member with a few deliberate movements.

Clasping your thighs firmly, he drew you nearer by lifting your knees towards his chest, seeking better access to your intimacy. His thumb moistened your entrance with your own secretions before he tease you with the head of his cock. He shifted above you, covering your lips with his own to stifle your sounds as he smoothly entered you, his pelvis slamming against yours.

Your chest rose and fell in sync with your racing heartbeat as your fingers gently wandered through the tangle of his dark locks at the back of his head. The tension surrounding you was so consuming that you lost awareness of your surroundings and any potential consequences of your actions.

When you sensed his entrance, your body instinctively arched and stiffened. Your face tensed as you tried to adjust to this new sensation. Gradually, you acclimated to his presence, and in a suggestive move, you raised your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist, signaling your desire for him to continue.

Gripping the sofa, he lifted your face abruptly, stifling a deep groan that resonated in his throat. The way your body arched upon his possession, the tightening of your flesh around him, heightened the rush of blood in his veins. Slowly, he eased into a series of gentle pelvic movements.

It was a captivating sight, leaving you breathless as you finally sensed his motion inside you. A thin film of sweat adorned your skin, and the heat brought a flush to your face, framed by damp strands of hair. Negan couldn't help but marvel at how perfect you looked in that moment — like a goddess who had descended from the heavens just for him.

His movements were restrained, as he aimed to find more space, all the while displaying a sense of self-control. This tenderness was not typical of his character. However, when Negan lifted his gaze to study your expressions and the fervor they revealed, he permitted himself to quicken his pace. Beginning softly and then progressively intensifying, causing your body to shift beneath him. His hand turned to silence your mouth, and his grunts intensified in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he moaned between a few strokes.

The manner in which his pelvis met yours left no room for evasion. This subtle motion that swept you along drove you to the edge, even though it was merely the start. You ultimately found the delight, the one veiled within your unspoken desires, beneath your garments, in the recesses of your intimacy. Each of your cries was subdued, to avoid raising any doubts and the movie, its credits scrolling on the screen, was no longer a cover for you.

“Tell me. Tell me you fucking belong to me, dollface,” he murmured, planting kisses along your collarbone before biting your earlobe, leaning in as he demanded, “Say it.”

“Fuck—,” you muttered, turning your face to meet his gaze.

You found yourself laughing nervously at every motion, electrified by the exquisite sensations that regularly coursed through you. Your legs clung to him while your hands had sought solace on his back. Your body quivered and molded around his larger frame.

“Say it,” he insisted, picking up his speed, surpassing the intensity he'd shown before.

“Yours. Only yours !” you gasped as you sensed him accelerating, feeling your muscles tightening around him.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. All mine,” he snarled, his voice dripping like honey.

A hush enveloped the surroundings, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of flesh meeting and the partially muted expressions of pleasure that conveyed the intense experience shared between you — and the need to stifle the impending cries pulsating within you nearly propelled you over the edge. Consumed by the moment, you disregarded any concerns about potential listeners, focusing solely on the overwhelming sensation that enveloped you.

A knot formed within you as a distant door creaked open, signifying the departure of one of Negan's wives from her room. The mere idea prompted you to stiffen. But Negan firmly held your hips, intensifying his pace, propelling you closer to the brink of climax.

“Hold on, there's somebody,” you gasp, confused by Negan's apparent indifference.

“It ain't an issue if there's company,” he declares, forcefully driving his hips against you.

“Negan I'm—,” you cursed, your hips rising to enhance the skin-to-skin connection. Your head arched backward, immersing you in a profound trance.

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned, his voice husky with desire. “Show me how much you want it.”

Intense pleasure courses through your veins, compelling you to grasp his hair and arch your hips to meet his movements. His hold on your hips tightens like that of a ravenous creature, and you knew you would be bruised the next day, but in that moment, it doesn't matter.

Negan glided a hand down, teasing and stimulating your most sensitive spot with his thumb, propelling you closer to your next climax. The noises coming out of your throat as you came were the sexiest sounds he had ever heard and damn, it driving him wild. It's with one last powerful push, he poured himself into you, your bodies entwined in a dance of passion and desire.

“Fuck fuck fuuuck,” he spat, shutting his eyes.

He fell onto you, utterly drained. You both remained intertwined, allowing your still-warm bodies to linger in a comfortable silence. As you slowly regained awareness, the sound of the door closing snapped you out of your daze, and you were suddenly struck by the reality of the situation. Sensing your movement beneath him, Negan slowly rose, propping himself up with one arm.

“Did you just— ?” you halted, sensing a chilling atmosphere enveloping your core when Negan withdrew from you, appearing as bewildered as you felt.

“I didn't mean to. You made it hard for me with all this damn mess,” he breath. He seemed to hold himself responsible, hoping this error hadn't disrupted the beginning of your relationship. Truth be told, sleeping with you was a significant move in his plan to have you entirely for himself.

You fall into a moment of silence, still slightly affected by the intensity of your lovemaking. As you both prepare to dress, Negan, clad only in his boxers, catches your attempt to glance around the room. Interrupting, he requests you an another, gentler kiss. You find yourself smiling in the midst of this tender moment, momentarily forgetting your worries. Eventually, you begin to reassess your choice about joining his group of wives…

Maybe you should think about it again.

A/N : Thanks for reading ! And sorry for any grammatical or other mistakes, English is not my first language. If you have any fanfic requests regarding Jeffrey's characters, please feel free to ask — I'd be happy to write them for you <3

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan x reader #jeffrey dean morgan x you #negan smith x reader #negan fanfic #negan smut #negan x you #negan fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #negan fic #negan smith #twd negan

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blueicequeen19 · 10 months

Text

Unwanted Attention

Masturbation, sexting, toys, Kook obsessed with JJ and he’s not about it 😏

I look down at my phone to see a incoming video call from her. The girl I’ve told to fuck off on numerous occasions but she won’t take no for an answer. When I asked her how she got my number, she told me that half the Kook girls had it because they all wanted me to ruffle their feathers. Something about a bad boy and pissing off their daddies.

Well it wasn’t happening. The Pogues came first and I knew they’d hate me if I stooped as low as fucking Kooks. Those girls were stuck up and totally not my type. Yet this one is annoyingly persistent.

I rake my hand through my hair as I step away from the party heading towards the water before hitting accept. I don’t even get words out before her tits fill the screen. Perfect. Round. More than a handful. Suckable. Bitable. Fuck. I’m hard.

“JJ.” She moans my name, the camera switching to show her fucking herself with a big pink dildo. Her clit is plump and swollen and slick with her arousal. She’s so goddamn wet.

“Listen.. I..” I start but she cuts me off with another sexy moan. My chest is tight. My balls are heavy and my dick is practically steel. I fucking hate this girl. HATE her. But here I am about to cum in my fucking shorts over the sight of her.

“I’m pretending it’s you, JJ. I wish it was your cock.” My knees nearly give out at her words.

“Why.” It’s all I can manage. My throat is tight and my chest feels ready to explode. I can barely catch my breath.

“What’s not to want?” She purrs, adjusting the angle closer until I can hear the sloppy wet sounds of her fucking her own pussy.

“It’s not going to happen. You can’t just—.”

“I’m close! Fuck, JJ, I need you so badly.. what’s a girl gotta do?” She begs, all desperate and needy. I grit my teeth, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one has followed me before turning all my attention back to her.

“Spread your legs wider. Fuck yourself deeper. Harder.” I growl, unable to stop myself from palming my dick in my shorts as she does as I ordered.

“Oh— god—.” She cuts off, her cries piercing the air as she cums. I can’t breathe as I watch her coat the toy in cum until she finally stills, the only sound becoming her shallow breathing. I palm my aching dick, dying for relief.

“That should’ve been you.” She whispers, pulling the toy out and showing me the evidence of her release. The toy is thicker at the tip and longer than I thought. Fuck, she might be sore later. I shake off my emotions and let my gaze harden.

“Don’t call me again.” I snap, hitting the end button and pocketing my phone before she begs me to come over and actually fuck her.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx

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slasherx · 21 days

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Gurl you write so fast like a Machine 😂, I wish I could write like that, and also good luck with your finals!

Can I do a request for A Micheal Myers with a childhood crush (female) like as a kid Michael had a crush on the reader but like after he killed they were separated for years but them micheal broke out and came across the reader all grown up if you can!

Also can you do Rz Michael, he's my favorite

Lol thats cause I have the motivation to write about slashers rn. And thank you! I got a 94% on one of them, but I won't get my final grade on the other one for a bit. I hope I pass.

Content: Michael Myers x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, obsessive love

Notes: Even though the gif is peepaw Myers, this takes place in the RZ universe

• ───────────────── •

Michael was put away in the asylum when he was ten. Before he made a vow to never speak again, he kept asking his mother and Dr. Loomis where you were, and if you could come visit him. His mother promised to talk to your parents about it, but that she couldn't guarantee you could come see him.

And so she did. She tried talking to your parents, but your parents wanted you nowhere near that monster of a child. They outright refused her on numerous occasions, even when Michael's mother pleaded with them on her knees at their front door.

When she broke the news to Michael that you wouldn't be seeing him, Michael lost it. He could feel something in his head snap, the same way it snapped when bullies would hurt you or him. Or the same way he felt himself snap that Halloween night.

He managed to keep it cool until Dr. Loomis and his mother left, but when they sent in that nurse to watch him until they could escort him to his room, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He took his plastic fork and jammed it into her throat, cutting her scream short. He was angry. Why wouldn't you come see him? Why? Why, why, why? He didn't understand...he thought you were best friends.

• ───────────────── •

Eight years after that day, he had a visitor that wasn't Dr. Loomis. He had known his mother killed herself, his sister was dead, and Boo was probably far away in the foster care system, so he had hoped it was you.

When they sat him in the room, he had felt anxious for the first time in years. Had you changed like he had? Did you grow out your hair like him? Grown taller like him? He kept a mask on, one he made in rememberance of you. It was just your favorite color all over it.

Finally, you walked in and sat down across from Michael. A couple guards stood at the door, in case Michael tried to leap at you regardless of his cuffs chaining him to the table. He was breathing heavily - you had changed.

You had grown taller, but you remained shorter than him. Now at eighteen, you seemed very mature for your age, and Michael wanted to leap across the table at you, but not to kill you.

"Hi Michael. My parents don't know I'm here. I just...came to provide an explanation, since I feel you deserve one." You spoke, hands in your lap. "Your mother begged my parents to let me see you on many occasions, and each time they told her no. I remember one time she cried and got on her knees to beg my mother, but she just shut the door in her face."

Michael listened, quiet as ever. He was just happy to see you in front of him again. He was also surprised that Dr. Loomis wasn't here to supervise this meeting.

"And I want you to know that Dr. Loomis has contacted me since I turned eighteen, and we've spoken about you a couple of times. He told me you don't speak anymore, and that you killed a nurse while being in here." You decided it was now or never to try and break his vow of silence. "Is...is that true, Michael?"

Michael wanted to break his silence, but he knew Loomis would be on his ass if he did. So all he did was nod his head yes.

You seemed to shift uncomfortably. Your breathing increased, and he could tell you were scared. This saddened him - he didn't want you to be scared of him, he wanted you to love him. You two were attached to each other as children, why would a few murders make this any different?

"I...think I better go before my parents realize I'm not at my friends house." You started to get up, when Michael launched at you and grabbed your wrist, straining the cuffs on him.

He held you hard, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. He was all alone here. But he still killed those people, and if you weren't careful, you'd be next. The guards moved forward and forced Michael back, and a few more people rushed into the room. One rushed to you and put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ma'am, ma'am, are you alright?" The man asked.

You nodded. "Yeah, thank you." It was too fast for you to process it, but Michael was staring at you. "Please, take me out of here."

• ───────────────── •

Now outside, you saw Dr. Loomis by your car. He was pacing, clearly nervous about your meeting with Michael. Then when he saw you approach, he waved to you.

"How did it go?"

"Please don't talk to me. I shouldn't have come here." You responded shakily.

"What happened in there? Did he break his silence?"

"No, but he fucking grabbed me! Who knows what else he would have done if the guards hadn't been there?! I was crazy to even come here." You opened your car door and got inside.

"Please, wait, (Y/n). You don't know how much you mean to Michael, I-"

"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I'm going home. Stop calling me." You started up your car and peeled out of the parking lot. Memories of you and Michael as kids began to race through your head and you began to cry. How did it come to this...?

• ───────────────── •

Seven more years went by. Seven more years where Michael didn't see you. Seven more angry years. But now, it was different. Michael was standing in front of your house.

He was different now. He was more built, even taller, and his hair was even longer. You used to comment on his long hair as a kid, it was one of the reasons he kept it so long in the first place.

He could see you through the window. You lived alone now, just down the street from your childhood home. He was content watching you through the window. You were preparing dinner, when you suddenly got a call. He decided now was the time to enter your home.

Moving around to the back door, he began to pick the lock.

"Hello?" You picked up your phone.

With a click, he was in.

"(Y/n)! You need to listen to me-" Dr. Loomis practically shouted on the other line.

Michael slowly opened the door.

"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I told you to stop calling me." You were about to hang up.

Michael made his way to your living room, right next to your kitchen.

"He's escaped! Michael has escaped!"

"What?" You spoke, shock and fear tearing through your system. You put a hand over your mouth, and looked up through your window, but you saw a figure behind you.

"You're not safe! Flee Haddonfield!" Dr. Loomis begged.

You spun around to see a large man with a knife glistening in his hand. He had a white mask on, blonde hair poking out underneath it. You didn't need him to take off the mask to see who it was. Your fear skyrocketed as you thought he was going to kill you.

"Michael...?" You spoke, slowly lowering the phone and ignoring Dr. Loomis' pleas.

Michael moved towards you. He finally had you now, and he would never let you go again. He was yours, and you will be his.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

#michael myers x reader #rob zombie halloween #michael myers #slashers x reader #slashers

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shadesoflsk · 6 months

Text

WILL YOU BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS?

pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x gn!reader

summary: It's going to be Leon's first Christmas without you. He promised you he would get over your death. But how is he planning to do it if the ghost of you keeps haunting him?

warnings: Character’s death, (reader) angst, hurt/no comfort, self-destructing behaviour, alcohol, mentions of religion, Leon speaks with reader.

author's note: I took the liberty to switch the order of my Christmas' special fics, I decided to post this one first since I liked it a lot. I would even say it’s my favorite one so far. Grief is such an interesting topic to write about, so I hope I did a great job! The dialogue part was lowkey (highkey) inspired by one scene from the Crown, season 6. The one where Carlos talked with Diana’s spirit.

It’s 11:45 pm or so Leon believes. Time seems to slow down when night engulfs his apartment, and he is let alone with his own demons. He would be in pitch darkness if it wasn’t from the fact that his neighbor had decided to turn on the Christmas tree lights that reached through Leon’s windows. Faint carols could be heard, and it was a dreadful reminder of what date it was.

He is trying, he really is. He drowns in his job that is slowly but surely killing him. Mission after mission, he keeps attempting to mess up — with no avail — since life is cruel enough to keep him alive, to continue watching his sins materialize in sorrow and depressive states.

During the latter, he would often forget or purposely avoid taking care of himself. When was the last time he ate a full meal? He doesn’t nor wants to remember. His apartment was starting to reek of alcohol and rotten food that Claire has so gratefully left. She would often try striking up some conversation, which was welcomed with an awkward but expected silence. He was never the talkative one. On numerous occasions, he was reprimanded by you for this same topic. So, in the past, he decided to stick with a one-liner — that sometimes brought him unnecessary attention — the dinner one. Your laugh would fill his ears as he told you about the multiple times where people thought he was flirting with them. If you were here, could he make you laugh like that again? Or would you be disgusted by the man he has become these last weeks?

Besides his own memory serving as the place where your face and mannerisms would replay all over again, where are you now? He once heard that a soul is destined to be reborn into a new life. Life is cyclical, the sun rises and sets, the day and night come, but they never meet. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a lilly now. The pureness in your heart resembled one of those delicate flowers that your eyes seemed to follow each time you passed through a flower shop. Or maybe you’re someone’s baby being born. Bringing happiness to a family that prayed all night long for a miracle to happen.

His mind wandered through the blurry moments when he was young. Prayers and cries surrounding a well illuminated place where many statues were presented. He used to fear one specifically, but the gentle touch of his mom would pull him closer to it. In his memory, he looked up to see the person who gave him life, yet he was met with a diffuse image of her. He has long forgotten the looks of his mother.

In those moments, he often wondered what heaven felt like. He grasps on the last string of memories he had with his parents. How his mother would pull him to her lap and read to him. “Our God loves us so much that he has granted us a place to go when the time is right,” she would say, the term of death was so foreign to his little self but once again he remembers those prayers and promises. Is heaven the clear sky and peaceful home the Bible describes? Or is it a nonexistent place that Christians invented to cope with the fact that a loved one is no longer with them? He hopes it’s the first one since he wants to indulge in that little wish of him — that at least in the afterlife — you found peace.

How is heaven? He wanted to ask you. Conversations with you used to flow so easily, so right. So, when the time comes he expects to hear every little rambling about your early trip to this called “everlasting paradise”. Is it raining right now? You loved rainy days, since it meant that both of you could cuddle while watching a movie. Or is it snowing since it’s Christmas? He could almost hear you, your voice echoing in the deepest places of his mind telling him to stop trying to open the gifts. You were supposed to be next to him right now, waiting for Christmas to come.

He is in denial, two weeks ago he had you safely tucked in his arms, already planning what to do on Christmas. He still had your gift somewhere, hidden from your prying eyes even though you kept scolding him for that. Both of you were soulmates, two sides of the same coin.

Now, he only had the ghost of you haunting him. Mocking him for not being able to protect you. He was hyper aware of every little detail his apartment provided. From the way he hasn’t moved your used mug on the dishwasher, because he feels that it was the last thing your lips touched. A bittersweet memory of your existence in this cruel world, to your book that you didn’t finish. You kept telling him that you were dying to know the ending but you couldn’t finish it before it was too late. If he reads it and prays to God, would he be generous enough to tell you the ending?

He wouldn’t.

Every night he prayed to God, begged him to switch places with you even though it was an unrealistic thing to ask. But that’s what he wants right now. “It should’ve been me.” But that wish never becomes a reality. He wakes up, night after night, being him and being alone. God doesn’t hear him, he believes that this made up character just blatantly hates him. The forgiving, the loving and almighty God as his followers describe him, just doesn’t match up with his own criteria. A loving God wouldn’t have taken away his only reason to live.

The content in his Jack Daniel’s now does little to numb the pain he was feeling. With a sigh, he drank a bit more, straight from the bottle as the burning sensation traveled from his tongue to his throat. If he drinks enough until he passes out, he could imagine you. Moving across the kitchen with agile steps as you cook his favorite food.

Those moments were the ones he thinks he should've embraced more. Your quirks and habits. How you usually left traces of yourself in his apartment. How you always missed a spot when cleaning the counter and how you always kissed his forehead when placing the plate down on the table.

Now, it's a bitter reminder of his own loneliness. His eyebrows twitched as the Christmas carols seemed to get louder. The clock reads 11:50 pm, ten minutes to Christmas. Even with the thick snow, the chants of kids being too stubborn to fall asleep were loud enough to fill Leon's ears. He hates living in this neighborhood filled with happy families.

You had a wide and warm smile when you showed Leon this same apartment he's currently rotting in. “It will be perfect once we have a family,” he remembers word by word what you said and he also remembers how you stumbled on your words once you saw the quizzical look he gave you. “I mean we could just have a dog or a cat if you want that. After all, family is where you are.”

Always the damn perfect partner. Always the stupid understanding other half. Why the hell did you even appear in his life if you were gonna die? Everyone else mourned your death but now they are moving on, yet Leon is staying in a never ending loop. Was it your plan? Are you fucking happy in heaven?

For once, he feels all the anger he’s been bottling up. His fists clenched as his breaths grew heavier. He throws the bottle against the wall. The contents spilling all over the floor as the bottle shattered in multiple pieces. He stared at the mess he’s done. His shaking hands grabbed handfuls of his own hair as he tried his best to compose himself. His mind repeating that you would be disappointed over and over again.

Icy blue eyes started to get clouded by tears he refused to let go. The palm of his hand almost bled by his own nails digging into the thin skin. The regrets and what ifs were the perfect combination for Leon’s wish of dying albeit the fact of his own self deprecating being who believed he deserved to live this hell of a life alone.

As he managed to keep his tears at bay for now, his eyes lingered on your designated seat at the table. You would always sit at his right, next to him, sometimes holding his hand, forcing him to eat his food with his left one. Now, his hand is cold without your touch. Which reminds him of your body and the last time he held you. Your heart no longer beat and your body was a freezing cruel realization of your death.

“I was never good with emotions…” Leon’s voice came out as a groan. He had finally spoken after God knows how long. His own throat was constricted by the lump that was forming. He was denying himself the right to be raw, to be human. “You were the one who was better at everything… not me.” Leon swallows his own saliva, an attempt to stop the imminent lump.

“I guess I was.” A melodic voice which was no more than a whisper filled Leon’s intoxicated ears. He looks at the empty seat next to him and sees nothing. It may be his own mind playing dirty tricks on him. Everything was blurred and dizzy from all the booze he had drunk. But nonetheless, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, even if you were a creation of his own messed up mind.

“I’ll take every little moment with me.” The voice was painfully comforting, a soothing lullaby to Leon’s broken beyond repair heart, a gentle breeze that surrounded his body. “The hugs, the kisses, our little trips to the beach and even the fights when none of us could go to bed without saying sorry.”

A laugh as soft as a draft lingered in the air. The reality behind those words made Leon feel like he was going crazy. He blames the alcohol and the lack of social interactions for this moment. But your bubbly personality was unmistakable. That sweet and tooth- roothing laugh was — at least to Leon — proof that maybe, just maybe, God allowed him to grasp on you one last time.

Or maybe God allowed you to pay him a visit. Neither of you were religious people, but you were closer to heaven that he’ll ever be. So, maybe that pure and wholesome smile blinded God, and you escaped, true to your rebellious nature. Your death turned him into a sappy man. He has always loved you, but the tragic destiny you met made him see you in an even better light.

“You know I loved you so much…” The voice turned sour and sad, so out of character for you. Well… if it’s you. Even in your last days, you tried to be that thoughtful partner, pushing away every worry out of his mind even though you were slowly withering away. The words slightly trembled, albeit the raw honesty that was being said. Silence set as if the owner of the voice was attempting not to cry.

“So deeply…” The hushed voice seemed to get even quieter as the course of its words dug deeper in Leon’s heart making it bleed harder than ever. His hand itches to reach where he thinks you are, as if you could materialize from thin air and give him one last hug. One last farewell.

“Please, stop blaming yourself for this. This wasn’t your fault.” Yes, it was. Leon wanted to tell you that. You planted seeds of hope in his heart even when he felt the world was too corrupted to be home for someone as splendid as you. The sense of your living left him chasing footsteps and shadows in order to meet you again.

And as a moth to a flame, he followed you. The chemicals in his brain working overtime to hear the gentle ring of your voice as long as you keep talking. It doesn’t matter if this behavior could put him at a psych after. Talking with ghosts? That can’t happen, yet his love for you seems to break the rules between life and the realms of the afterlife.

“You weren’t supposed to go so soon…” Leon’s voice fills the dim room, engaging in conversation, the tears that he was previously fighting off were at the verge of falling from his eyes. But as a stubborn man, he wouldn’t show weakness and vulnerability, even in a moment like this. “I know nothing good lasts long in my life but —” a choke left his lips as the lump is now growing impossible to hold back. “What kind of twisted sin am I paying off? I can’t live a life without you, I simply can’t.”

“I wasn’t done with you, I wasn’t done with our life. I wanted to adopt that dog we saw at the shelter. Do you remember? I wanted to take you to Italy because you once told me you wanted to try a real pizza.” A shaky breath cuts off Leon’s speech before he continues, his slurred words stumbling one another as if he knew he was running out of time. “I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted to be the first person to notice the gray hair appearing in you. The first wrinkles in your face, which I’m sure would have looked amazing in you darling, you were always perfect. I wanted to help you stand up when your legs couldn’t carry the weight of your body. I wanted —”

“Leon.”

“I wanted to at least spend one last Christmas with you.”

He finishes off with one last wish. One last desire he had hid in his mind for a while now. He knew everything had ended, but right now, he wanted to hear you one last time. He wanted to hear an "I love you" from you.

And there it was… the last thing he wanted to hear. Nothing.

As soon as the deadly silence filled the room again, uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. Leon bent forward, his forehead hitting against the hard material of the table, letting out all of his repressed emotions. In the midst of his despair and hatred, he cried not only for you and the fact that he failed to protect you. Each drop carried the weight of every life that was lost under his watch, each one of those bright eyed agents who were looking forward to working with him, and only found death in their paths.

What has he done wrong to deserve this terrible but inevitable outcome? He’s beyond tired, beyond hopeless. In his rage, he could only blame the world.

God, why have you forsaken me?

He stays there for a while, drowning in his own tears. As reality once again sets in. Deep down, he knew this would be the last time. The universe granted him (or cursed him) by allowing him to hear you one last time. Hear the tender tone of your voice calling his name like you used to do. And maybe he should take that with him just like you did.

Everyone dies, so will he. There will be a time when God takes pity on him and allows him to meet you once again. Once the time comes and he's sent to the place where you are, he will tell you about the book’s ending. He will tell you about every mission he will get in the still unknown future. He will tell how much he missed you and how much he loved your presence, even if it was just the blink of an eye. He doesn’t know what else he will tell you, but he’s going to make sure to have a list before parting from this world — in a long, far future.

He had enjoyed meeting and being with you. And if somehow God gives him another chance, he would choose you over and over again.

The sweet carols have grown faint and not even the innocent chants of those children filled Leon’s empty and dark living room. It’s already christmas.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble

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hyewka · 1 year

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This is pure filth, therefore I am very sorry for your eyes, and quite long too - so please don't feel the need to write a story out of it! I am simply sharing my hard thoughts with you. But picture Beomgyu, who likes to dress cute and dons skirts and stockings to look cute exclusively for you. You can't just waste the opportunity while he is so nicely dressed for the occasion. You start the night by carefully positioning the camera on the counter so that it is recording everything when you corner him against the counter and jerk his cock away rapidly from the counter while he's wearing the lovely skirt. As Beomgyu attempts to regain his breath, the camera records how his cum leaves stains on the fabric and stains the surface of the tiles. And that's just the beginning; Beomgyu's cries, begs, and groans are captured on numerous recordings throughout the night.

warnings; femdom, degradation, dacryphilia, feminization, ruined orgasm

"Normal boyfriends don't wear slutty pink skirts and wait for their girlfriend to jerk them off, do they? You're just a big whore, aren't you?"

Beomgyu's weak shake of his head at your accusations only spur you on as you mockingly coo at him, "Oh, so you aren't a whore?"

"N-no!" he shrieks when you ruin his orgasm, scrambling as he desperately tries to buck his hips into your stiff fist, but you're strict, keeping your hold firm. He hiccups as his cheeks flush red, defeatedly slumping against the counter at the loss of his orgasm, trying to catch his straggled breath, his lower lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. "You're so—you're so mean." he says looking at you with the biggest doe eyes, desperately trying to wipe away any stray tears, you almost felt that you might've went too far.

You start gliding your hand wrapped on his poor dick, looking at him with an apologetic pout, "Sorry baby, just wanted to see you cry a little." He's trying to hold a grudge as his lashes get stained with tears, sniffling as he turns his head away from you. You tut at him, but he still keeps his head turned the other way.

“Gyu…”

“I’ve never done this with anyone else,” he starts with a whisper, “Only for you. I wear these outfits for you and only you.”

You pout again at the soft confession, “Only for me?” you continue your pace on his dick, so pretty and big, your other hand playing with his swollen balls as you wait for him to get out a coherent answer. “Y-yes, I—hah! only wanted to look pretty for you. Am not a w-whore.”

You chuckle a little, finding it hard to believe with the way he spreads his legs wider for you as you jerk him off in frantic motion even as he tries to be bratty, not giving you the satisfaction of seeing his face properly: But it was cute, having his ruffle skirt ruined and his stockings ripped, drenched with his previous load.

"Don't hold back okay?" you instruct lightly, quickly picking up your speed on his shaft, mix of his sticky load and your spit making it easier on your hand. He abides with your instructions, his panting becoming dog-like, consistently loud, as his hair fall to cover his eyes in result. “Mommy, mommy—“ his babbles get cut off by his own spit as he chokes momentarily on his sobs.

But you aren’t having it, humming disapprovingly, "Keep your eyes on the camera Gyu."

"C-can't, about to—" he doesn't get to finish his sentence before he moans, his tip spurting white substance straight to the opposing counter, barely missing the camera displayed on top of it.

#############################

a/n; i. need. more. sub. beomgyu. requests.

#sub!idol #sub txt #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #🌷. rana thoughts

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dyns33 · 7 days

Text

Symbiosis

I missed Eddie x reader with silly Venom being in the way. Can't wait to see what they'll do in the next movie.

From the beginning of their relationship, Y/N had noticed that there was something different with Eddie.

She might have thought that it was because he was somewhat famous that he behaved eccentrically, sometimes talking to himself and seeming very agitated for no reason.

Without ever really bringing up these oddities, Eddie had been very honest with her about a lot of things. His childhood, his dreams, his ex-girlfriend, the loss of his job before becoming a journalism star again, his little problems with cleanliness.

"I mean, I'm a very clean person… Normally. All the time ! I wash twice a day, I take care of my teeth, I don't like living in filth but... Sometimes I'm not at home for a long time, and I'm totally focused on my job, and the stress… So, if I can seem a little dirty and messy, I'm sorry, I will never ask you to clean up for me and you can tell me that I stink by patting me on the back of the head. Yes, on the back of the head, I deserve it." Eddie muttered at the end of his sentence, looking to the side as if he were talking to someone else.

"I don't think you're dirty. You sweat a little sometimes, but that's natural."

“You’re saying that because you haven’t seen my apartment yet.”

“Does that mean you want to invite me to your apartment ?” Y/N asked, smiling shyly.

"Of course ! No, you don't… Of course, Y/N, I've been wanting to for a long time."

The presence of chickens was a little surprising, and it was true that the apartment was not in very good condition, but it was a bit like her idea of a bachelor pad, and it was quite reassuring to think that Eddie didn't often bring women home.

It meant something important to him, a sign of trust.

But that certainly wasn't the greatest evidence. No, this evidence took a little longer to emerge from the shadows, or from Eddie's shoulder, after a month of relationship.

Precisely the day he couldn't hold back the first "I love you."

The spontaneous, charming statement came in the middle of the small talk, and Y/N felt very happy, ready to respond that she loved him too.

It was then that the thing appeared between them, looking furious, showing its large teeth.

"No ! Eddie, no, you can't do that !"

“Oh, God, what is that ?!”

"Vee ! Vee, you promised me, man ! You're going to scare her ! And you have no right to interfere in my love affairs, go back inside ! Y/N, sorry, I'm really sorry, I’ll explain !”

“I have the right to give my opinion !” the creature replied, turning to Eddie. "You're ashamed of me, of us ! Anne accepted us ! Anne likes us ! If your new little darling doesn't accept us, then she's not good enough !"

“Anne didn’t really have a choice and we weren’t together anymore, stop talking about her all the time !”

After more or less managing to calm down the "non-parasite" that lived inside him, Eddie did his best to calm down Y/N, who was totally freaked out by what had just happened. He explained to her that Venom was an alien, a symbiote, who needed him to survive, who had helped him on numerous occasions, and who was not dangerous.

"I'm very dangerous ! I'm the lethal protector !"

"What does he mean ?"

"Nothing ! Well, he likes to fight crime, he's dangerous to the bad guys. You have absolutely nothing to fear, I promise. I… I'm so sorry."

Eddie then began to sob, despite all the comfort that Vee tried to give him by telling him that only losers cried like children and that he was pathetic to moan like that, putting them to serious shame.

Even though she was still scared, Y/N couldn't help but hug her boyfriend, trying her best not to touch the alien. She repeated to him that everything was fine, that it wasn't his fault, and that even though this situation was strange, she still wanted to be with him.

This seemed to reassure him, and make him very happy.

Unfortunately, there were three of them in this relationship, and Venom clearly didn't want to be with Y/N at all.

It was him that Eddie had been mumbling to since they met, often arguing about her, as the alien kept comparing her to Anne, his ex girlfriend.

Without any sign of lying in his eyes, he promised her that he hadn't been in love with her for a long time. Their breakup had been difficult, but she had found someone very quickly, Dan, a great guy, and they were married now, and Eddie was very happy for them.

Well, that wasn't easy to believe with Venom growling and hitting his host's head at the end of every sentence, insulting Dan and repeating how great Anne was.

But Eddie seemed really honest. He was friends with his ex, nothing more, and he wanted to be with Y/N now, even if his idiot parasite didn't agree.

He wasn't an optimist by nature, too much had happened to him in life for him to believe in miracles, but Eddie wanted to believe that Vee would come to appreciate her.

He was quite confident as Y/N was doing her best with the symbiote, trying to talk to him, offering him chocolate, keeping an open mind. Many people would have fled the moment they saw this thing coming out of his body. It was quite a good sign.

But like a wild animal, Venom refused to be coaxed. He wanted Anne, Anne was perfect. Nothing would change his mind. Nothing.

"He hates me." Y/N whispered sadly, even though she knew it was useless, because Venom was always with Eddie, even when she couldn't see him. None of their conversation was private.

"Hate is a strong word… He's stubborn, he believes he's right. It's not really against you. If I had always been single, I think he would adore you."

Eddie thought it would be a good idea to introduce her to Anne. In a sense he was right, because it was evident that there was no longer any romantic feeling between them, and that she was very much in love with her husband.

But Y/N couldn't help but do like Venom, and compare herself to the other woman. Beautiful, intelligent, great lawyer with a strong character. It seemed natural to fall for her.

If he sensed her discomfort, the journalist said nothing, spending the evening laughing with the other couple only keeping his hand on her shoulder, putting it back each time Venom forced him to take it off. He was kind enough not to ask her what she had thought of Anne, or if she was reassured. Maybe he was afraid of the answer too.

After that, things got a little complicated. Without doing it on purpose, Y/N put some distance between them. To protect herself, because she only thought of one thing.

One day, Eddie was going to listen to Venom. One day, he was going to see that even if he no longer loved Anne, he could find someone better, and he was going to leave her.

Well, the alien still had contradictory messages. If Y/N sucked, Eddie sucked too. A loser. When he wasn't busy asking for food or criticizing the young woman, he was insulting his poor host.

And if she ended up not listening to what he said about her, only caring about her boyfriend's opinion, she didn't like it at all that Venom treated Eddie so badly.

"No." she said one day, sitting on the sofa, while the journalist was still arguing with the alien for some stupid reason, before throwing up his arms and agreeing to go buy chocolate and tatter tots to calm him down.

"…Uh ? Sorry, Y/N, are you talking to me ?"

"You're not going out."

"Uh. I'll just go to Madam Cheng's. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Venom doesn't deserve chocolate. You stay here, watch the movie with me, and if he apologizes, then he gets some sugar."

“How dare you, stupid woman ?!” the symbiote shouted, showing all its teeth to scare her.

But Y/N wasn’t afraid anymore. Even though he was rude and mean, he had promised Eddie that he would never hurt her, and he seemed to be an alien of words. Aside from his screams, he had nothing against her.

“You, how dare you ?!” she replied, jumping off the couch, which seemed to surprise both Eddie and the symbiote. "I don't care what you think or say about me. I understand that you don't like me, that I'm not good enough, and you know what ? I agree ! Eddie deserves better than me. But he deserves better than you too ! You're an asshole to him ! I forbid you from talking to him like that, or breaking his nose, even if you fix him right after ! He's a great host, you should thank him and do everything to make him happy."

It was stupid, but she started crying as she spoke. Emotions tended to make her cry, even anger. At the silence of her boyfriend and her non-parasite, Y/N felt bad.

She then had the stupid instinct to go lock herself in the bathroom, to try to calm down and remember how to breathe.

From the other side of the door, she heard whispers, but was unable to tell what they were saying.

Then Eddie knocked gently, asking if he could come in, or if she would come out.

"… He's going to apologize ?"

"Yes, I promise."

Trying her tears to not give Venom another reason to make fun of her, Y/N opened shyly, not daring to look at her boyfriend right away, and stood stupidly in front of him, waiting.

“Vee…”

“I’m sorry, brave little morsel.”

"Hmm ? Oh. No, I meant an apology for Eddie."

“He already apologized, love.”

"I don't need him to apologize to me. He meant what he said, and like I said… He's not wrong. But it's nice."

"Little morsel…" Venom whispered, moving closer to her and looking almost sad. "I was totally wrong. I see it now. Eddie explained it to me, but I wasn't listening."

With Eddie translating what he said, the alien explained that for his species, symbiosis was important. They could have several hosts, but there was only one perfect symbiosis, just one.

Part of him wanted to keep his host to himself, jealous and possessive, but that wasn't possible, because contrary to what his attitude seemed to show, he cared about Eddie's happiness.

That was why he was so insistent that he return to Anne. Because from the memories he had seen of his relationship, he had seemed to be in perfect symbiosis with Anne, and since there was only perfect symbiosis, then he had to do everything to get her back, even if she was married to stupid Dan.

He didn’t hate Y/N. It really wasn't personal, it was just logic and survival instinct.

What Venom failed to understand was that human relationships weren't like symbiosis. And in the end, if he had to compare the two, it was now obvious that Eddie's perfect match was with Y/N.

Yes, his ex had helped them, and she would help them again if necessary. But so did Y/N, who had accepted Eddie's special situation, who had stayed despite the horrible things Venom had said, who protected her lover and tried to please the alien.

"Babe…" Eddie sighed, taking her hands. “If anyone is too good for anyone else here, it’s you.”

"He's right."

"… Thank you Vee."

"But you always say she's too good for you. Once we agree, you might be happy !"

"Eddie… You're saying that ?"

"Of course. I still don't know how I managed to seduce you, or why you didn't run away when you saw Vee, or what I did to deserve that such a great girl could think that she's in love with a guy like…"

He jumped a little when she kissed him to stop him from saying any more nonsense, but Eddie quickly relaxed, clinging to her, pinning her against the wall to accentuate the kiss.

Right in their ears they could hear Venom purring in pleasure. They didn't mind until he licked their cheeks.

"Vee ! It's disgusting !"

"You're not listening to me ! I'm telling you to get into bed ! You're going to hurt Y/N if you stay here. A Lady should be caught in satin sheets, surrounded by rose petals, after foreplay of at least twenty minutes, and satisfied several times."

"… What ?!"

"I really like this idea. Eddie, where are my rose petals and at least twenty minutes of foreplay ?"

"Y/N ! Don't team up against me, please !"

"I can help him with endurance. And the rest. I've seen a lot of videos."

"… Okay ! Remind me to take care of my internet history tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah. Less talk, more passion. Little morsel is waiting, I can feel it, and she's ovulating."

"… Aren't you supposed to go get chocolate from Madam Cheng ?"

"Yes ! And I will take the opportunity to explain for the hundredth time why there are things that should not be said."

“But Y/N is wet.”

"And here we go !"

Despite Eddie's explanations, Venom continued to want to give advice and do everything to make his relationship with Y/N perfect.

After all, he had almost ruined everything, so he felt he had an obligation to help these two idiots be happy, living in harmony and understanding what to do to satisfy the other in every situation.

Even if Eddie was already a caring and kind boyfriend, who Y/N didn't want to leave at all despite this little characteristic.

That said, after the alien took the initiative to help with his tongue once, she wasn't really complaining about it.

#venom #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock x venom #venom x reader #a bit #they are a trio

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inactivewattpadauthor · 6 months

Text

Fujin x Reader (Semi-Lemon)

Warning: Includes Fujin eating you out. Nothing more.

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

It was about an hour until midnight, yet you were busy playing a middle school game that involved drinking with a certain handsome wind god that was supposed to be back at the sky temple.

Fujin.

"Never have I ever... 'accidentally' hit and enemy in the crotch with my weapon." You squinted as you read the hand-written card.

You then peeked at Fujin to see if he was going to take a shot to that one, in which, he actually does.

"I have done that on several occasions." He smirks, chuckling low.

You giggled before taking your shot down as well. "I won't lie to myself, I be doing it on purpose. Now you, on the other head, is it by accident or have you just been around Mr. Cage a lot?"

Fujin lets out a small laugh at your question. "Perhaps both. Now hand me a card."

You listened to the wind lord and handed him a new card without turning it over.

Fujin reads it quietly at first but then smirks and looks back at you.

"Never have I ever slept with a co-worker."

'Damn, I forgot I wrote that card.' You thought.

"I have done that." Fujin informed, before taking another shot.

"Really?! With who?" You were a bit shocked.

Fujin would give me a friendly wink. "You don't need to know that."

"Ughhhh, fineeeee." You pouted.

Fujin notices you didn't take a drink. He assumed you got a bit side tracked.

"Y/N, aren't you going to take a drink?" Fujin gestures to your next shot glass.

"Oh... I never slept with a co-worker." You admitted, hiding down the embarrassment.

"Are you lying?" Fujin teased.

"Fujin, please, I'm not lying!" You defensively cried out, being flustered.

"Alright, alright, I'll believe you. Next card."

You got myself together before pulling another card from the deck. "Never have I ever..."

You trailed off as your eyes widened at the new card. 'Was it really a good idea to read such a thing in front of a god? It seems more personal than the last. He didn't seem to have problems reading that one though.'

Fujin notices your blush and how you were hesitant on reading out the card. "Come on, don't be shy. What does the card say, Miss Y/N?"

"Never have I ever r-recieved oral." You said the last part out quietly, before covering your face with your hands.

Fujin raised an eyebrow at me before taking his numerous shot in a row and setting the glass down to focus on you.

"I... take it you haven't?" He tilted his head and asked our of curiosity.

"No. I never have." Your response was muffled by your hands.

The demigod would think for a moment before leaning towards you, gently taking your hands away from your face. His glowing, white eyes looked at you with kindness and perhaps something else. Maybe it must be all the shots he took.

And then he spoke...

"Well, my friend, I think it is time for a change, don't you?" How straightforward this man is... so hot.

"Come on, Fujin, don't play with me like that!" You chuckled nervously, beginning to sweat. "You've certainly had quite a lot to drink..."

Fujin chuckles softly. For a moment, he thought of what to say. You looked to the side, thinking about his proposal, if he was just playing around.

"Do you really think I'm playing with you?" He asked.

Again, nothing was said at first. Maybe he wasn't tricking me or joking around at all. You still had your suspensions.

"Well... I don't know! Would... you actually... like... eat me out?" You fiddled your fingers with each other and asked. You really wanted to know if he was being genuine.

Fujin gave you a smirk before leaning into your ear. "That isn't a question that should be answered by words."

Just like that, most of those nerves went straight down to your crotch.

You looked at Fujin and looked around for a bit, pondering on what to do or say. You got it together, though.

"My room is upstairs."

You stood up with little difficulty since you weren't entirely too drunk. Lord Fujin stood too, seemingly as if he didn't take like more shots than you.

He picked you up bridal style, proceeding to carry you upstairs and locating your room.

"How experienced are you?" You asked him, holding onto him.

"Enough to know what I'm doing." Fujin quickly responded with a smile.

After stepping into your room, he gently places you on your bed, placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him.

You only laid back with your lips slightly parted, separating your legs a little for him. You could feel that heat burning in your lower stomach from him. Your mind was drawing blank from it.

Fujin got on top of you, kissing the base on you neck softly. After lifting your shirt up to kiss between your chest and down to your stomach he looked back up at you. You felt a tug at the rim of your shorts.

"Are you ready?" He looked into your eyes for permission.

"Yes, please." You almost immediately consented, ready to just have a tongue in you for the first time.

Your shorts were then removed along with your panties underneath it, leaving you already exposed, and the cold air hitting your wet sensitive.

Now if your mind wasn't so clouded with the eagerness, you'd probably feel a lot more self-conscious, but you found yourself already placing a hand in Fujin's, white hair as his head was between your thighs, passionately kissing them before his mouth goes closer to the more precious spot.

By instinct, you bucked your hips slightly forward when Fujin softly kissed your lips, and no, I'm not talking about your mouth. You let out a gasp as another response to the kiss as well, placing your other hand onto his hair and tugging.

Your lord didn't keep you waiting. His hands held onto your inner thighs as he licked around your tight hole, soon enough, he stuck his tongue inside, driving you crazy.

"Mmm~ Lord Fujin! ...Please..." It was hard for you to even beg, and he just only began... but he found it arousing.

His tongue worked its magic in you, touching all the correct spots, making you tense up and breathe heavily.

At some point, you even removed a hand from his now messy hair and placed it over your mouth to muffle those noises you were making. Fujin looked up at you and chuckled, finding you adorable.

You felt that building pressure inside your belly, as it intensified, your grip on his hair tightened. Fujin would pay attention to this and pace his tongue faster and maybe sloppier, making sure to get as much of your arousal fluid onto his tongue as possible. His grip on your thighs also increased. He enjoyed your taste and the reaction he was getting from you.

It took a small amount of time for you to have an orgasm. You were trembling even afterwards. Fujin sat up from between your legs and licked his lips. He lays right next to you, you could see the warm blush he had on his face from what he just did for you. Gods, this man is too gorgeous to be real. Even if his hair was messy because of you.

He wrapped his arms around your resting body, pulling you close. "Was I good?" He asks.

You took a breath before responding. "Y-Your tongue was so amazing..."

"I am pleased to hear that, Y/N. I suppose you could take that shot now." Fujin joked with a wink.

I smiled at him, messing with his braid a bit. "When we play again, just remind me to take an extra shot. Also, I'll certainly add more new cards to the deck." There was a hint to that.

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

A/N: I don't know how to write a good ending so I'll just end it here-

I first wrote this on my phone, but the app was still flopping on me so I switched to pc, which is why majority of the oneshot is in italics.

And update on the Nightwolf x reader p2 lemon, it is no longer promised, clearly, bc I'm a liar, and I kinda now feel iffy on writing lemons. Character ai gave me the idea to write this, sooo (I had to change the pov from 1st to 2nd so many times, god.)

I hope you guys like this :)

#mk imagine #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #fujin #fujin smut #fujin x reader #lord fujin #mortal kombat headcanons #goddesswritings

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writingchalamet · 8 months

Note

ross request 👀

basically y/n is friends with adam & carly and they’ve been trying to set them up for months with ross but something always happens (someone is sick, touring, etc.) but finally ross & y/n meet and it’s basically a match made in heaven

Adams Bestfriend

warnings: ☁️ v fluffy, babies if you consider them a warning!

A/N: this is soooo freaking cute

You had been a close friend of Carly's for many years, naturally becoming close with Adam over the years too. The pair having you over for any movie nights, dinners and outings. You loved nothing more than third wheeling the pair, and when their sweet baby came you practically clung to the couple even more. The two of them adored you and the way you were with their son. It was initially Adams idea to introduce you to Ross after hearing you complain to Carly all night about how terrible your date was, you had called Carly half way through asking her to come and bail you out which she gladly obliged, and after hours of venting, crying and getting wine drunk with Carly you fell asleep on their sofa bundled up in a blanket, head resting in Carly's lap. Adam sat next to Carly quietly chatting as she stroked through your hair. "Do you know who I think would be really good for her?" Carly's eyebrows raise as she looks at her husband with a quizzical look on her face "Ross..." suddenly her face lights up, eyes practically gleaming, "holy shit that's the best idea you've ever had!"

That was over a year ago now, the pair had tried numerous times to get you and Ross in a room together but to no avail, several plans had been foiled, neither of you actually knowing Adam and Carly's true intentions. You were supposed to meet at Christmas, but Ross had to cancel to see his brother. Then again for dinner at Easter but you double booked with your parents, and more and more occasions just like it, either one of you was sick or the both of you double booked, it was a complete disaster. But the one time you did finally meet was completely by mistake, Ross was round Adam and Carly’s babysitting for them, when you unexpectedly dropped by having forgotten your purse when you were visiting a couple days earlier.

You knock on their front door tapping in a singsong manner fully expecting to see Carly’s beautiful head of curls answer the door, only to be completely blindsided by a tall dark handsome stranger, you knew to be one of Adam’s friends answering. He was clutching onto baby Hann whilst he screamed bloody murder looking very distressed as he looked at you confused. “Hi, I’m y/n, Carly’s friend, I left my purse here the other night and was coming to get it but if it’s a bad ti-“ Ross cuts you off almost in a pleading notion “Y/n! Yeah They’ve mentioned you a bunch of times, come in, I think I’ve seen a purse in the living room” he sidesteps out the way to let you into the house, you slip off your shoes knowing Adam’s strict ‘no shoes on my carpet’ policy. You can’t help but wince at the screeching sound of the babies cries as Ross helplessly bounces him trying to get him to calm down. You spot your purse in an instant but the maternal instinct in you has you reaching out for baby Hann. “Are you okay?” You ask softly, trying not to pry but feeling genuinely concerned not only for the baby but for Ross’s sanity, knowing how stressful it can be the times you’ve looked after the baby not knowing of you’re doing things right, sometimes reassurance is needed. Ross sighs and turns to you fully, it’s now that you take him in fully, he looked tired, his hair was falling out of his bun, his shirt was wrinkled probably from holding the baby against him most the day, and his forehead was forming faint stress lines. “Uh, I’m not sure, I feel like I’ve tried everything and he won’t calm down, he’s not hungry, he doesn’t wanna play with any toys, I’ve tried listening to music, he doesn’t want me to sit down with him he doesn’t want me to be moving around, I just don’t know what to do” he lets out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, “here let me take over for a minute, you sit down” he would resist but the way you’re already two inches from him gently taking the baby from his grasp has him dizzy, so he takes a seat, he watches as you place the babies head on your shoulder holding around his back, patting his bum in a steady rhythm that has the baby soothed and falling asleep in a matter of minutes, “see, just exhausted” you give Ross a soft smile and join him sitting on the sofa next to him, “how the hell did you do that” he shakes his head laughing in disbelief “lots of practice, I have lots of nieces and nephews” you continue to sooth down the babies back as you settle down and get comfy on the sofa.

“So it’s nice to finally meet you” you smile staring across at the brunette who looks slightly more relaxed now. “Adam and Carls talk about me too? I hope you haven’t heard anything bad!” He winks at you, and you swear you feel a swarm of butterflies erupting through your stomach. “Nothing bad about you, Matty on the other hand…” you trail off as the baby stirs slightly, but you lull him back into his slumber by shushing and rocking him, Ross can’t help but admire you. “I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t have shown up here, maybe started crying myself” he speaks in hushed tones and lets out a soft laugh. “Don’t be silly, you would been fine, he would have tired himself out anyway, it’s just stressful to listen to when they’re in that mood and nothing you’ve tried is working” you place your free hand on top of his, gliding your thumb across the knuckles, you couldn’t help yourself, you almost felt drawn to him. He looks down at the your hand and smiles, turning his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze, a sort of silent gratitude. The two of you being too comfortable to take your hands away so you just left them there and chatted for at least an hour and a half while baby Hann slept soundly on the comforts of your chest. You got to know the ins and outs of each other feeling as if you had known one another for years. You hadn’t noticed Ross shuffling closer to you, or more so you didn’t mind as he slipped an arm around your shoulder so the three of you were close while you spoke in hushed tones, and you definitely didn’t hear the front door clicking open, and the quiet footsteps of your friends coming home to greet their baby, when they stubbles in on a sight and a half. Their best friends huddled up on their sofa whilst their baby slept safely between the pair, the two of them giggling at something the other had said, a squeeze of the shoulder, a pat on the thigh, their faces were close, it was everything Adam and Carly had hoped for when they wanted them to meet. The sight being almost too cute break, but sadly Carly had mummy fever, and had to see her baby. “Well, well, well… what’s going on here then?!”

And at the sound of his mothers voice, and frankly saved by the bell, baby Hann awakens and emits his cries for his mother and hunger. Saving you an explanation, for now. The two of you clear your throats as you struggle to separate from each other, Adam finding the scene particularly humorous to watch. You had the baby over to Carly who coos at the baby calming him instantly making Ross shake his head in confusion, “I told you Ross, he’s a ladies man” Adam chuckles walking over to his friend and patting him on the back, judging by the fact that his hair was falling all over the place and you were the one holding the baby that Ross had been struggling. “Honestly mate, that was the hardest babysitting gig of my life, if Y/n hadn’t of shown up, me and jr would have been joining you at dinner”

You laugh and sigh shaking your head “you weren’t doing that bad, you just needed to pat, not bounce” you wink at him this time and you watch as his mouth falls agape. Adam pats his friends back in sympathy but laughs all the same. “Well, I guess I better get my purse and get going, it was lovely to see you guys, and nice to meet you Ross… finally” you say the last word pointedly to him directly, grabbing your things giving Carly a quick hug and kiss before heading down the hallway. You hear your name being called just as you reach the front door so you turn and see Ross taking long strides towards you.

“Hey y/n, um this may be strange as we only met today, but I was wondering if I could take you out sometime?” You can’t help the raging smile that appears on your face making your cheeks ache, you nod instantly “yeah, yes that would be nice” Ross leans down to give you a hug and you hear a muffled “yes! I knew it would work!” From Adam in the living room making you chuckle and nuzzle your face closer into Ross’s warm and welcoming chest.

#fanfic #fanfiction #imagines #adam hann #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 imagines #ross macdonald imagines #ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald #ross x reader #teacher ross macdonald #george daniel #matty healy #matty and ross #Ross

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seeds-and-sins · 4 months

Text

Light My Fire - Part Seven

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, descriptions of explicit sexual content)

Description: Phoenix faces a ghost.

Tagged: @tonixe @chernayawidow, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie @virgoelf-blog, @my-obsession-spn, @capricxnt

Part Six

Your father died in the war.

1945. The Battle of Okinawa.

You were fifteen years old.

You don't remember much about him, but he was a good man. He promised to come home. When the soldiers came marching in, he wasn't with them. Your mother wasn't the same after that, but she didn't show it on the surface. She cried in the bathroom and whimpered into her pillow, but she never let anyone see her like that. You had admired her when you were younger.

But now?

You couldn't even recall what her face looked like. When you thought about her, which wasn't often, all you could think about were words: strong, independent, fierce, and hard-working. Your mother was a no nonsense kind of gal and that was how she raised you. She was a secretary for some big shot in St. Louis, a working woman that earned her own and fended for her own. If not for her, you wouldn't be here. You can imagine yourself aging, having married and had children ages ago. Maybe you'd be in a nursing home right now. Maybe you'd be in a grave.

But no.

Your mother refused to marry you off like all the other mothers of your time. She didn't believe that a woman belonged in the kitchen and she refused to allow you to think otherwise. She instilled in you a fury that remained even to today.

You both lost touch with one another when you were entered into the program. You were twenty-two years old, your mother had made the arrangements herself. You don't remember why she did, but frankly, it was so long ago you can't bring yourself to care. You never went out to find her. You were certain that she was dead by now. And of the things she left you with, 'I love you' wasn't one of them.

Don't trust anyone, she said.

And don't you dare fall in love. You'll just get yourself hurt. No one cares about you and no one ever will. Remember that.

You should have listened to her, but over time her words just became less and less valuable. You didn't take them seriously anymore. Not like you used to. You doubt she told you them under the assumption that you would live to be almost a hundred years old and look not a day over twenty-two. She couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be in your boots.

It was lonely.

Surely, that would be the exception. If you trusted someone along the way, that was okay. If you fell in love...

But no.

None of this was okay.

And you don't think your mother would approve of you attending the seventieth anniversary of the biggest hero fuck fest in history.

You were scowling in disgust as you made your way through the halls of the mansion. Tommy, Tessa, and the Deep had disappeared, but you weren't so concerned about it. If Tommy and Tessa were still alive, that meant that Ben wasn't here yet. But Ben was on his way and you needed to prepare yourself for the worst. The moaning, the exotic smells that permeated in the air, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, it wasn't making your situation any better.

You couldn't believe that the twins were still doing this. It was obvious by the look on your face that you had never been a big fan of Ben's annual Herogasm. He started it with some other heroes a long ways back and from that point forward he made it a habit to host the orgy in his penthouse every once a year. You had been invited on numerous occasions before Payback had even been formed. Back then, heroes were few and far between. You didn't have hundreds of them like there was now. The invites were little pamphlets with splashes of vibrant colors stamped down by a printing press, some poorly drawn pornographic comic scribbled on the front. They were sent out by whoever was Soldier Boy's assistant at the time. Knowing how Soldier Boy was after he met you in person, if the invites had been sent by him personally, he probably would have come and fetched you himself.

That was much like what happened after he met you. Being a member of his team didn't deter him from you in the slightest. Ben would invite you to Herogasm himself every year after Payback had been created. And every year that Ben approached you about the event, you gave a very firm and strong 'no'. Ben was so determined that he would try everything he could think of to get you to change your mind. As if him barreling through your penthouse door in the early morning wasn't already bad enough. He sent you sex toys, gave you intimate details on who was going to be there, attempted to bribe you with food and drinks and drugs.

It wasn't like you were a prude.

In your younger days, you would do anything to have a good time. You were reasonable and rule-abiding, but it was a known fact that you liked to party. And you were wild and fun and carefree. The world was your playground and you were so excited to learn and try new things. Heck, you weren't even that young then. But within the era arose a lot of great changes and great changes meant new things. Everyone was living life to the fullest and everyone was rocking and rolling, swinging, mixing drugs and drinks, learning about themselves. It was a new age. Gone were the ways of the old.

So, you weren't going to lie to yourself, part of you really did want to go to Herogasm. You couldn't count how many times you had nearly walked yourself all the way to Soldier Boy's penthouse. Be damned the reality of giving him the satisfaction, you just wanted to have fun. The rational and reasonable side of yourself would stop you. You would have to do a regroup on the top of a tower somewhere, pace back and forth as you thought up reasons as to why you shouldn't go.

Orgies were great and all, but there was nothing that beat the physical and carnal intimacy of being with someone in private.

Ben had tried to persuade you that way too: It'll just be you and I, how 'bout that? But there still was the problem of him being in a relationship. Take away the public aspect of it and there still was the fact that he was with Crimson. No matter how many passes Crimson gave him, you wouldn't be just some other girl, you wouldn't allow that. And you couldn't do that to Countess.

The idea of facing him in the workplace after that, you'd never be able to do that. You weren't sure how your teammates managed. Payback had fucked with each other in every which way, even outside of Heorgasm. Herogasm was supposed to be the fuck for free card: once a year, fuck whoever you want, however you want, no consequences. What happens in Herogasm stays in Herogasm, kind of bullshit. You would never be able to do that.

Your best bet was to stay away. And you did.

It was almost ironic that you would confront Ben, after all these years, at an event like this. You weaved through the corridors of the mansion, peeking into rooms and steering clear of naked bodies. You found a surprisingly secluded part of the home and took up a space there. You were fiddling with the edge of your cape, pacing back and forth as you waited.

"Okay. Deep Breathes." You told yourself, muttering reassurances that fell empty in your gut. "Everything will be fine. Everything will work out."

What would you even say to Ben? It wasn't his fault that he had been trapped by the Soviets all these years. If anything, it was yours. You blamed yourself for not saving him when you should have. Why did you wait to confront the team? Why didn't you just go get Ben? None of this would be happening if you did. Maybe you'd finally be retired.

Or maybe you just liked this too much...

You don't know how much time had passed, too lost in your thoughts. A sickeningly sweet smell filtered in, a cloud of smoke floating in the air. You inhaled deeply through your nose, nostrils flaring.

"Halothane?" The smell brought a sense of nostalgia. Criminals tried to use it on you a few times back in the day, assuming it would knock you out cold. Either some super kinky shit was going on or something was about to go down.

You followed the cloud of smoke, turning a corner to find it unfurling from a container that rested at your feet. Some sort of smoke grenade, you deduced. You stepped forward, trotting down a set of steps before coming upon two familiar faces. The two men were in conflict with one another, Butcher easily holding back the larger man with one hand.

"Well, if it isn't Billy fuckin' Butcher." They both paused, eyes landing on you. Butcher faced you, a small smirk lifting his lips.

"Phoenix, the fiery cunt, funny seeing you 'ere."

Billy had tried to kill you a few years ago. His team and him had been tasked with obliterating your entire career and even trying to find a way to obliterate you. They failed, of course. There was no doubt that they would. And you didn't blame them for trying to kill you, you were a loose cannon. Still were. You returned his smirk as you came down those last few steps.

"I wouldn't be smiling if I were you. Don't think ya'know what's about to happen." You paused, cocked your head to the side, your irises glowed red. All too fast, a gust of air slashed at your sides as you moved with a startling quickness. Your hand encompassed Butcher's throat and you pinned him to the wall. The wall crackled around the force of your combined strength and his weight. His colleague threw a fist at a nearby display case, the glass shattered onto the carpet floor, he withdrew a wooden baseball bat. The wooden bat splintered as it hit your back, falling into a mess of pieces. Butcher fought back with a grin, making a good effort, something you didn't miss. That grin of his faded when he realized he wasn't strong enough to pry your fingers away from his exposed throat.

"What have you been up to, you piece of shit? You've gotten abnormally strong since I last saw you." You showed your teeth, your hand as hot as a furnace, holding Butcher in place as if he were a mouse. "You couldn't have taken V, I don't take you to be that kind of guy." Your gaze wandered up and down with a sick curiosity as he continued to struggle, clawing at your hand with an iron grip. "Nooo..." You ponder with a pop of your lips. "You took something else. Ya'know you can't trust that shit, right?"

"Let him go!" His colleague stood back now, withdrawing a pistol. He fired six shots at you, the bullets hit your side and dropped to the floor in little dented beads. You plainly looked between the bullets and him.

"Really?" You spat, "Don't you guys know anything by now? For fucks sake, it's always the same shit with you people."

BOOM!

The explosion surprised you and you relinquished your grip on Butcher. The wall at your back exploded into a mess of rubble, a burst of heavy wind pushing back at you. Billy and his friend collapsed to the ground from the blast, while you stayed perfectly still against it. Your eyes narrowed in its direction. As the structure of the mansion around you wheezed and crumbled from the attack, you heard screams and cries for help follow. You made no move to save anyone. Butcher groaned as he shoved a wall off of him with ease. He smirked up at you.

"You're fucked." He laughed.

The walls were black with soot, plots of fire spanned out across the once pristine white. Your eyes vigorously looked around, you searched for the source. An explosion? Much like the one in Manhatten. John had told you that Soldier Boy had caused that. Stumbling from the sheet of smoke in the air, a figure appeared, down the same set of steps that you had come from, down the same corridor. They grew closer, Butcher stood to his full height, brushing off the layer of dust that had settled on him.

The figure halted when they came into view. His bright blue eyes squinted in your direction before a heated glare contorted his handsome features. Your heart stuttered in your chest, fists clenching at your sides. What were you going to say?

God-He looked just like the last time you saw him. Shiny and bright, a little rough around the edges, but just as strong. As if nothing had happened all those years ago, as if he was just coming back from a simple vacation, he was the spitting image of the man you remembered: the same suit, shield poised at his side, hair grown slightly thicker, no mask.

"Ben." He was going to kill you, wasn't he? You could see it in his eyes. His eyes lacked the fondness that haunted your dreams. When you wished you could be back at the beginning, before all this. Before Vought betrayed him, before Vought betrayed you. "Don't do this." You breathed, your eyes softened, the red in them was replaced by your natural eye color. You extended a hand. "Please."

"You haven't seen me for years and the first thing you do is beg." His voice. Even when he sounded threatening, you missed the deep, transatlantic accent that used to make you feel warm inside. You wished you had never rejected it. Fuck Countess. Fuck morals. You should have kissed him. You should have fucked him. You should have loved him. Seeing him here, none of that mattered anymore. Ben was alive. You were right. He was here. You wanted to run and hug him with all the strength you could muster. You wanted him to hug you back.

I'm better now. You would tell him.

You weren't sick anymore. Last time you saw him, he made you swear that you would be better by the time he got back.

Or maybe you were still sick.

Damaged. Deranged.

People could be sick in different ways.

Why would he want you?

Stop being dillusional.

You weren't the same person you were when you made that promise. When Ben promised to come back to you, he was Ben. Just Ben.

Your rational side returned: Ben wanted you dead now. He wasn't Ben anymore. He was the enemy.

More importantly, he wanted John dead. Who cares if Ben succeeded in killing you? You didn't care if you died. You welcomed it. But John? Fuck anyone who would dare hurt that man. You would fucking burn the world for John. He was like a son. He was your son. No one would fucking hurt him.

"I'm disappointed." Ben added, Butcher slowly walked to stand at his side. Butcher must have felt like he owned the world now. Butcher must have felt indestructible. With whatever substance was running through his veins, with Soldier Boy at his side, all of his dreams would come true: you would be killed and Homelander would be next. You wouldn't allow it.

"I don't know what else to say."

"I waited for you." Ben growled through clenched teeth. "Of all the people, I thought you would come for me."

"I tried." You replied quickly, almost pleading.

"You didn't try hard enough." His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke those last words, before his eyes flitted to something behind you. Someone. You looked over your shoulder: It was John, descending a staircase.

"William Butcher and Soldier Boy." He announced, halting beside you, shoulder to shoulder. "You were behind this. This whole thing. It really is all about me." Soldier Boy glanced back at Butcher, you saw a distant doubt at the edge of his gaze. "William, we made a deal. To fight to the death, you and me." Butcher's expression hardened, he was glaring at Homelander with a deep and sacred hatred in his bones. Heat rose in your fingertips, you were preparing yourself for a brutal battle. Homelander shot a beam of red in Butcher's direction and Butcher was thrown, hitting the wall behind him with a booming thud. Soldier Boy faced Homelander, a coolness washed over him and he stood at the ready. "You were my hero growing up." Homelander took a step toward Ben, "I watched all of your movies hundreds of times." Your breath caught as your gaze flicked between them, an intensity clung to the air. The corridor felt more tight and narrow than before. Fumes of smoke flowing from cracks in the walls, lingering after the explosion. "You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." Those words came out soft, muttered off the tip of John's tongue. Homelander was wide eyed, someone seeing their childhood idol for the first time and maybe John was a bit disappointed.

"Buddy," Soldier Boy replied. "You think you're strong? You're wearing a cape." You grabbed Homelander's bicep. You could feel the tension vibrating in the muscle. You had a duty to stop this, right? You didn't want this. "You're just a cheap fuckin' knockoff."

"Shut up, Ben." You shot out through clenched teeth.

"And you?" Ben turned on you. "The Phoenix. Fire in the sky. You're the biggest fake of them all. The biggest fuckin' whore." Homelander's bicep slipped from your grasp and he flew at Soldier Boy with a roar. Soldier Boy collided with the wall, but he recouped fast and swung a fist across Homelander's cheek. You flew in to intervene, trying to rip the two apart. Soldier Boy shoved you and you stumbled back, Homelander's laser vision beamed at him. You were about to tear them apart again when a hand grabbed at your shoulder and ripped you backward.

It was Butcher. You blinked at him in shock, his fist collided with your cheek. It did nothing more than snap your head to the side, but you were still surprised. His eyes turned yellow and a beam was shot in Homelander's direction, shoving him back. John was momentarily stunned as his blue eyes lifted to Butcher.

"What did you do?" He snarled.

"Scorched Earth." Butcher replied, you returned by grabbing Butcher by his jacket and you yanked him away. Homelander directed his rage toward him, fists were flying, both of them dodging before making a hit. You turned your attention to Soldier Boy, he was rolling on the floor. You stomped to him, grabbed him by the collar of his chest plate and hauled him to his feet. He punched you. The hit drew blood, the boiling hot liquid ran from your nostril. Before you could collect yourself, Soldier Boy's hand was at your throat and he was choking you.

"I would have given you the fuckin' world." He hissed.

"They-" You choked out, "Got me-" Both of your hands wrapped around his wrist and you fought with all your strength. "Too." His grip loosened just a touch and his eyebrows furrowed at you in confusion. An arm looped around his neck and Homelander was drawing him into a chokehold. Butcher tackled Homelander from behind.

You held your throat, gasping for breath. You stumbled toward the three, reaching out for Butcher when you were shoved from behind. The shove wasn't enough to send you off balance, but you spun on your heel.

It was a naked man.

Starlight's boyfriend? He stared wide eyed at you, you stared wide eyed at him.

Upon recognition of his place in all this, you wasted no time, fire balled in your fist and you threw a wave of heat at him. He squealed, patting himself down, left intact by your attack. Your attentions went back to the trio. You punched Soldier Boy in the gut. Butcher climbed off Homelander to grapple you by the shoulder and throw you.

Soon. In a mess of limbs and fire, it was Homelander and you versus Starlight's boyfriend, Butcher, and Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy and Butcher were far more trained in specific combos of attack, while Homelander just aimlessly tossed his brute strength in where he could hit them. All of them had one goal. It was like you didn't even exist. Any move against you was one to keep you away. The three of them held Homelander down to the ground, Ben's chest began to glow yellow.

What was that?! What was he doing?! You had never seen that before.

"No! Stop!" You screamed, steam rose from the corners of your eyes. You grabbed Ben by the shoulders and pulled with all your might. "PLEASE!"

WHOOSH!

Your efforts were just enough to give Homelander an opening and he escaped their hold, flying into the sky and through the roof. You fell back, hitting the wall.

It was still.

Quiet.

You licked your lips, eyes focused ahead on Soldier Boy's hunched form. Butcher flipped on his side and Starlight's boyfriend stood with a limp and a grunt. Soldier Boy stood, one leg at a time, he slowly faced you. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath. You held against the wall as he closed in on you.

"I'm going to kill him..." He began, pulling loose tufts of his hair back with his fingers. "And I'm going to make you watch." You tilted your head away. "And then I'm going to kill you." Your vision just so happened to land on Butcher. He was grinning now, blood staining his teeth.

"This is not fair, Ben." You said weakly.

"Aww, are you gonna' cry?" He taunted, lacking any jest, all cold and callous. "Gosh, I don't remember you being such a pussy."

"I don't remember you being so cold."

"Well, that's what happens when the only person you ever fuckin' cared about leaves you to the wolves for four decades!" He shouted, spital ran off his sharp teeth.

"Fuck you, Ben. You don't even know anything. You don't know." You whimpered back, defeated. You couldn't even believe that was you talking. You lifted into the air and flew through the hole in the ceiling.

Ben's eyed followed you, head tilting back. His fists clenched at his sides.

"What did she mean?" He asked out loud, "They Got Me too. What does that mean?"

"Who fuckin' knows, mate. You can't trust a word she says." Butcher replied, eyes narrowing on Soldier Boy in question. Soldier Boy needed to think Phoenix was the enemy. Otherwise, they would never kill Homelander. "She's just tryin' to get into your head."

"That flying fuck and her, are they..."

"What do you think?" And that was the only seed Butcher needed to plant because Soldier Boy's answering grimace was enough. He was hurt and he was fuming and that was how Butcher needed him to stay. He needed Soldier Boy on his side.

"Guys, we gotta' go. Like, now." Hughie stated anxiously, Butcher nodded in agreement.

"Come on." Soldier Boy stood below the hole in the ceiling, his fists clenched at his sides, he gritted his teeth.

You were right there. Right in front of him. As beautiful as the first day he had met you...

And he should have killed you.

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#reader #the boys #homelander #the seven #black noir #vought international #crimson countess #soldier boy x reader #oc hero name #billy butcher #hughie campbell #starlight #mothers milk #tnt twins #payback

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