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oceandiagonale · 1 year

Note

Been a while, life has been extremely hectic and I finally have some free time, I’ve been doing some more thinking about Kane, his three favorite regions are definitely Alola, Unova and Galar, he loves the battle tree, Battle Subway and battle tower. The battle Subway holding a special place just so he can talk to Emmet each time he finishes twenty battles. Win or lose he enjoys each battle and the chats he has afterwards.

Yveltal has gotten more comfortable with Kane’s wandering and just goes along for the ride, he enjoys seeing his hero do things he likes but he won’t admit that to anyone, least of all admit it to Kane. Kane likes Galar’s Battle Tower and camping around in the wild area. For Alola it’s because it is so relaxing and fun, he likes the climate and the sandy beaches, the people are fun for him to talk to as well.

And finally he has a design, my sister made it with a picrew thingy and honestly it exactly how I’d imagine him looking.

AAAA KANE MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!! KANE!!!!!! I'M POINTING AT HIM🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

HE'S STILL OUT HERE BEING A POWERHOUSE OF A TRAINER.... GOOD FOR HIM 😭😭😭

(also I had to draw him meeting gene like that one time we mentioned it KJDFHDF)

#oceandi answers #submission #bladeedge25 #kane hero #others' ocs #FKJSDF SORRY I CHANGED A FEW THINGS WHEN I DREW HIM BASED ON PREVIOUS DESCRIPTIONS #like the biker jacket and the yveltal-xerneas pin and I also added a gray hair tuft for fun since it looks like yveltal's scarf LFKDSJF

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birdghost · 1 year

Photo

tity (a pin idea)

#titmouse #tufted titmouse #bird #birb #birds #rachel doodles #pin idea #pin

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ashleabechaz · 1 year

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NEW EARRINGS, LAPEL PINS AND TUFTED RUGS AND MUG RUGS ARE NOW LIVE!

Rugs and mug rugs are all one offs so don’t delay if you’re keen cuz once gone that is it FOREVER 😱

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spiderlyla · 6 months

Text

Waking up next to Miguel would go a little like this:

It's early, too early.

The sun is still rising, and the cold breeze of dawn is seeping through the cracks in your balcony. Birds are chirping outside, singing a soft lullaby, alerting the neighbourhood about the rising sun, and beckoning people to wake.

And awake, you were.

It took you a little bit to get over the initial confusion that occurs when you first open your eyes. The room was dimmed enough for you to see everything but was not bright enough to hurt your eyes. The sheets felt extremely warm, the mattress was extremely soft, and the pillows were fluffy enough.

Something is weighing down on your stomach, though it was not pressuring. Your eyes flutter slowly, and you look down to see tufts of messy, black hair blocking your vision.

A smile creeps onto your face, and your hand involuntarily moves to touch his hair. A deep hum erupts out of him, and when he moves, you find those reddish-brown eyes boring into yours.

You don't know how long he's been awake, but it couldn't be long. He looked rather groggy, yet you swear you could stare at him for hours.

He looked rather rugged now. The toll work took on him this month was very obvious, you could tell by his unshaved stubble, by his uneven hair, his tired eyes.You could feel your cheeks heating up, you could never get used to this sight.

"Buenos días..." His voice reverberated in your ears, so low and deep it made you feel all sorts of ways. He moved before you could answer and hoisted himself up using his arms, pinning you to the bed underneath him.

He was not wearing a shirt. The scars on his body were a little visible under his slightly hairy chest. He gained a few more of those since you last saw him, and if it weren't for the fact that you were currently mesmerised by the fact that he was so much bigger than you, you would've voiced your concern or even scolded him for not taking better care of himself.

Good thing for him, you were distracted.

"Sleep well?" He asked, pressing his soft lips to your temple. It was a habit of his now. Even on his busiest of days, he would still give you your very much needed morning kiss.

You didn't reply, only gave him a little hum and wrapped your arms around his neck. Miguel chuckled, lowering himself gently so he could rest on your chest while looking up at you. His hands were on your waist, thumbs mindlessly swiping over the same spot over and over.

And it feels so right this way. His weight on you, the soft sheets smelling of sleep mixed with his cologne, the birds chirping and tapping on your window.

"Don't go to work," He glances up at you, his expression softer than you've ever seen it. "...please." His voice does not surprise you, but his request does. Miguel was never a man with little pride, nor was he someone who liked to ask for anything, so his little plea was very surprising, to say the least.

"It's not until a few hours—" You try to explain, but he scoffs immediately, displeased.

"It's not that, I'm telling you not to go at all today." His grip on your waist tightens just in the slightest, but his gaze is still soft. "I want you to stay." You pause to think for a moment, but you had already decided as soon as you heard him utter those words.

After all, you'd be a fool if you left the bed, leaving such a striking man to be by himself.

"Okay." He finally smiles, his pearly fangs protruding and pressing on his lower lip. He adjusted himself, and you suddenly found him beside you instead of laying on you, arm spread to welcome you into his embrace, and you take the opportunity you were given.

Being against him is comforting. It makes you feel safe and warm, like nothing could ever hurt you. And you knew full well nothing would, he wouldn't allow it.

You find yourself being lulled back to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the smell of his musky cologne. His hand ran up and down along your spine before stopping at your waist and pulling you even closer.

Your eyes involuntarily close, and just before you could slip into sleep again, you feel those lips on your forehead.

"Dulces sueños, Amor." [Sweet dreams, love.]

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lovebugism · 6 months

Note

ok what about virgin!eddie x reader -- "when he wears THAT flannel" i just want to see him getting showered in compliments and fawning over the attention, he deserves it !!

thanks for ur request angel :D — eddie tries to wear something new and you can't stop ogling at him (established relationship, fluff, part of the tcar universe, 0.8k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie attempts to hang ghost lights on the ceiling of the living room. It’s made only slightly difficult by the rickety step stool he stands on. It’s damn near impossible with the thick flannel constricting his arms.

“Fuck…” he grumbles like a storm cloud, face scrunched in a subtle pout.

You squint up at him from where you untangle the string lights. You watch him rotate his shoulders in distant discomfort, still trying to get used to the new shirt Uncle Wayne bought him.

“You okay, Eds?”

“Yeah, it just… fits weird.”

He squirms in his skin again, and you bite back a laugh.

Your gaze falls to his pale tummy when his arms raise to pin the lights to the wall. His skin is milky white, powder-soft. A tuft of chestnut hair peeks out from the hem of his sweatpants. It suddenly becomes dreadfully difficult to look away from his happy trail.

“I don’t know…” you hum, shrugging as your fingers work a knot from the tangled wire. “I think it fits perfect.”

His chocolate eyes narrow down at you. He playfully jerks at the inch of string lights you give him, tugging down the bottom of his flannel with his free hand. “Keep it in your pants, freak,” he mumbles, a crooked smile hinting at his lips.

You pull yours between your teeth to conceal its brightness.

Eddie keeps working but grows bitterly aware of the fabric weighing on his torso. He’s not used to wearing something so heavy, so dreadfully un-lived in. It’s thick and itchy, so overwhelmingly overstimulating that it’s almost impossible to move in.

Then he feels your eyes on him, and there’s nothing he loves more than your attention, but he still feels a bit like a teenage boy. He’s lanky and clumsy and insecure in just about every aspect, but especially in his body.

It’s weird to have someone who loves him and thinks he’s pretty. It’s good, amazing even, but weird nonetheless. It should make him feel better about himself, and it does a lot of the time, but it also makes him extremely hyperaware of what he looks like and how you must see him.

So when he lifts his arms too high and his pale, pudgy midriff flashes for a second, he huffs all dramatic and stomps down the ladder. “Alright, I’m gonna go change—”

“What? No,” you whine instantaneously, pouting more sincerely than he’s ever seen you. “You look so cute, Eds. Don’t take it off.”

“I look like a lumberjack,” the boy scoffs.

“A very sexy lumberjack,” you correct with a pretty smile.

Eddie grins back, all wide and rosy. He cups your face with warm, calloused palms. “You’re real cute when you lie to me, you know that?” he teases with a scrunched nose.

“I’m not lying! I wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t true!”

“No?”

“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ and shaking your head in his hands. “I’m obsessed with you, and I’m a terrible liar. So you’d definitely know if I wasn’t telling the truth.”

Eddie hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Fair enough,” he mumbles with a curt shrug.

“I, for one, think you look very, very handsome.” You grin and lean forward to kiss the very tip of his nose. It’s warm and pink like the rest of his crumbled-up face.

“Thanks, mom…”

“And I think you look super cozy, too,” you confess, spreading your palms along his covered stomach.

“Cozy?”

“Yeah. You know, like soft— nostalgic. Like a house—”

His chin falls to his chest as he flashes you an incredulous, deadpanned look. “You’re saying I look like a house?”

“No, dummy! You don’t look like a house! You… I don’t know, you feel like a house,” you stammer, then inevitably start to ramble. “Like, you look like where I wanna come home after a long day at work and throw down my keys and take a nap, you know?”

You feel safe, is what you’re really telling him. You feel like where I wanna spend the rest of my life.

Eddie grins so brightly his blushed cheeks start to ache. He can’t help but tease you, anyway. “You got… all that… from a flannel?” he jokes slowly.

“No!” you scoff with the roll of your eyes, perhaps too quickly to be true. “…Not totally. But I do love the easy access, though.”

A tingle rushes up Eddie’s spine when your fingers migrate beneath his flannel. Your touch is soft and cold compared to the warmth of his belly. Your nails scratch at the sparse tuft of hair of his happy trail. He swears his vision goes white for a blink.

He doesn’t get the obsession you have — with his stomach or with him at all — but he revels in it, anyway. He feels like he should. Most people don’t get to find their soulmate, and he gets an entire lifetime with his.

“You’re crazy,” he says, shaking his head and beaming wide.

“For you,” you croon, lovesick and honeyed.

He laughs. “And cheesy."

You shrug and smile, his hands on your cheeks. “What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

And if this is the worst, Eddie can’t fucking wait for a lifetime of evil.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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moonchildstyles · 2 months

Text

sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

—————

The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step.

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only.

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter.

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available.

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another.

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway.

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs.

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely.

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be.

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long."

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest.

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here."

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared.

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again.

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?"

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her.

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff."

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks."

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?"

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly).

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed.

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge.

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is.

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two.

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies.

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling."

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?"

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?"

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry.

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge.

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him.

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling."

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before.

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional.

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit.

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him.

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch.

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?"

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle.

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him.

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips.

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in.

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own.

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs.

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch.

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her.

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest.

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it."

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this.

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her.

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her.

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that."

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs.

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts.

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping.

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm.

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?"

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under.

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown.

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?"

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes.

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh.

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me."

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back.

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips.

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?"

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short.

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth.

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him.

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing.

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock.

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her.

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head.

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft.

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy.

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her.

"I like you," she told him, "That's all."

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?"

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you."

"That's what I thought."

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste.

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him.

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry."

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more.

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on"

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away.

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands.

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature.

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough.

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds.

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake.

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips.

"You're cute," he told her simply.

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw.

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun."

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his.

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now."

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then."

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against.

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs.

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties.

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you."

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way).

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?"

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet.

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done."

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more.

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture.

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you."

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing.

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit.

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length.

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble.

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight.

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more.

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something.

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me."

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?"

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?"

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself.

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together.

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips.

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more.

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her.

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—"

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back.

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later.

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!"

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?"

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through.

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be."

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus.

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me."

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out.

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back.

He was close, that much she was sure of.

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first."

"But, I can see your wings."

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling."

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle.

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock.

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip.

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked.

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction.

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for."

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips.

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?"

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear.

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers.

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time.

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already.

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach.

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel.

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak.

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips.

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own.

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck.

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm.

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy."

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face.

"Nothing, just... You."

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier.

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?"

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave."

"What if I don't fall asleep?"

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him.

"Guess I'll have to stay."

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion.

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #demon harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #demon harry styles #harry styles x reader #pleasing #harrys house #fine line #as it was #Harry styles smut #Harry smut

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kingkatsuki · 7 months

Text

— help

Just thinking about looking after Bakugou for a change, because he deserves it.

Warnings: 18+, sub!Bakugou, handjobs, Bakugou fucks your fist, spit, overstimulation.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.0k.

Dynamight always has a mean and imposing aura surrounding him, a man that holds so much dominance and power to everyone that beholds him. Standing tall as the number two hero, a protector for the people. But a man that carries the weight of the world on his broad shoulders sometimes needs someone to look after him too.

You know the days he’s like this, when he comes to you with tired eyes and sunken shoulders. The days where it feels as though his back might break from carrying all the pressure, the weight that might cause him to be buried in an avalanche beneath it.

"That's it, baby," You coo," "Doing good for me."

And he is— his teeth gnaw on his lower lip as he ruts his hips forward, fucking into your palm as you tighten your grip around him. Even though his hulking body has you pinned against the wall, it’s you that holds every ounce of power over him.

“You’re so pretty like this.” You thumb the leaking blush pink tip of his cock, throbbing and swollen from all the pent up frustration brewing inside him, “You like when I touch your cock?”

He’s embarrassed, and he hates to admit it. A gruff grunt your only response as you tease your fingers against the prominent veins that fork along his length. Teasing the messy tuft of hair at his base as you feel his pelvis concave, lurching as he feels his balls already begin to tighten. His body heavier against you now as he pins you down, leaning into you.

“Spit on it, baby.” Your free hand cards through the buzzed hairs at the back of his neck, nails drag against his scalp as you find purchase in his messy spikes.

Pushing his head down between your bodies as you still your hand, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs before he puckers his lips. Obediently spitting downwards as the drooling glob lands on his cock and your fist, smoothing the moisture into his skin as you roll your wrist.

“Good boy.” The praise pulls another salacious moan from his chest as he buries his face in your neck, embarrassment evident on his features as he palms your hip pathetically, “Look at the mess you’re making.”

His cock is drooling pre, collecting it against your palm as you stroke it, mixing it with his spit as he continues to meet your movements.

“Are you imagining it’s my cunt, Katsuki?” He ruts his hips at your crude tone, a choked grunt vibrates against your neck as he shudders, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Fuck—” He whimpers and you can tell he’s close, he certainly won’t last if he feels the wet warmth of your walls wrap around him.

“You’re close already, sweet boy?” You murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his warm breath fans against your skin.

Bakugou’s only response a gruff pant as his lips move against the curve of your neck, unable to control his senses as he drools against your skin. He’s a mess like this, giving up all the power and control he so easily wields and offering it to you.

“Need your pussy,” He rasps, “Please.”

“Need my pussy?” You coo, condescension oozing from your tone, “You don’t need it do you, baby? I think you’re about to cum just like this.”

His thrusts are sloppier now, shamelessly fucking himself into your fist as he searches for his own release. Your other hand slips between his thighs to press the pad of your finger against his taint, dangerously close to his tight rim as he splutters a string of incoherent words. Tightening your fist around him as he ruts his hips, heavy balls knocking against your hand with each forward movement.

“See, I think you’re going to cum for me aren’t you, sweet boy?” You can tell from the way he’s leaning his weight on you, teeth grazing your neck as he bucks his hips sloppily. Much like the ferocity of his thrusts when he wields all the power, pounding into your tight heat as he presses your thighs up to your chest. The tables turned as you steal that very power from him for now, controlling the moves like the Queen in chess as you move to protect your King.

“Show me how pretty you look when you cum, Katsuki.” The sound of his name uttered so sweetly is all it takes for him to find his end, a debauched moan tumbles from his chest as his hips begin to stutter. Unable to control himself as he lets his pleasure take over his consciousness and he dives into his release, white hot spurts of cum spurt from his thick cock as they splatter onto your tummy.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good boy for me—“ You resume your pace as you feel his hips begin to slow, taking him through his high as he whimpers from overstimulation. Blunt nails dig into the meat of your hips as he stutters incoherently, stroking his cock with fevor as you try to coax more out of him.

“I can’t,” He rasps, “S’too fuckin’ much.”

“I know you can, baby. Come on— for me?” Your finger moves from his taint you push against his tight rim, feeling it flutter around you as you push in to the first knuckle as he begins to curse. His legs buckling as he fucks into your fist wildly, his chest now pressed tight against yours as you still manage to fist his cock between you. Another load spurting from the swollen tip as it coats both your bodies, stray globs drop to the floor as Bakugou almost follows. Keeping himself steady against you as his body curves over you, panting as you give a few final gentle strokes to his softening cock.

“That’s my good boy,” You whisper, peppering kisses against his collarbone as he tries to regain his breath, “You did such a good job for me.”

Because even a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, needs someone to shoulder that burden sometimes too.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut

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sfehvn · 6 months

Text

home

Description: Astarion left twenty years earlier, after defeating the elder brain, in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. Tav has not been coping well. A/N: A little angsty, alcohol abuse and Tav being overly-sexual in hopes of feeling some comfort in Astarion's absence; if you aren't comfortable with that you may want to skip this one! Also eludes to Tav being a sorcerer elf, but nothing is explicitly stated. Enjoy! :) Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,438 Characters: Astarion x Tav

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The gnawing sensation that remained deep-seated in your gut had all but dwindled. Nights filled with booze and meaningless sex did little to appease the hunger that twisted your insides viscerally. That damned vampire had only been in your life for but the slightest fraction. Somehow, he utterly rewired your brain's chemistry in such a minuscule time frame.

“So that’s it then? You’re leaving after everything we’ve been through. Just like that?” The bitterness that dripped from every syllable was palpable as you spoke. An air of disgust and heartbreak hung between you and Astarion.

He remained silent, the cogs of his mind turning while his face remained unreadable. “I will return for you, Tav. I swear it. I must do this alone.”

The scene dissipates into the back of your otherwise empty mind. You had waited. Waited patiently for the return of your lover; spent years willfully ignorant to the fact that he had wholly left you. Two decades came and went before the realization sunk into the essence of your being. He was just gone. The many conquests that filled your bed were always reminiscent of him in at least one way, though you were never able to quench that desire. A white-haired man sits before you, telling fantastical stories, no doubt with the intention of bedding you. You would let him, of course. As he speaks, hands moving with a pristine emphasis of his tales, you can only discern the differences from your once-lover. His locks share the same silver hue but are much too short compared to Astarion’s. Soft tufts of curls are nowhere in sight; the stranger’s hair is pin-straight. The longer you listen to him speak, the more you coin him a prick. The ego wasn’t far from your lover’s, but it was without the redeeming charm you had grown to love.

Despite all of this, you would still follow him to bed, or perhaps a latrine is more this man’s prerogative. Either way, you hoped you could squint your eyes just enough to forget the differences and see a glimpse of Astarion instead.

“Riveting as this conversation is,” You cut the stranger off, and your hand sits on his arm seductively. “I speculate we may get on better in private. Naked.” The pungent scent of alcohol is unmistakable. If it were a decent man before you, he may have chivalrously rejected your advances for fear of taking advantage. This was no decent man, though; he proves it by taking your hand in his and standing from the bar. You had been right about the latrine. He props you against the wall in the outhouse and has his wicked way with you. Your mind is numb as he pounds mindlessly into your mound. You squeeze your eyes shut, and try as you might, your lover is not present in the moment. Instead, you feel dirty, used, and ashamed.

You allow the man to finish, as it only took him a measly two minutes. You had counted. You didn’t bother faking your own orgasm. This one didn’t care. You adjusted your dress until its hem fell to your ankles. “When can I see you again?” He asks. You brush past him wordlessly. His shameless contention is not lost on you as a distasteful ‘bitch’ elicits from his mouth. You pay your tab and start your trek back home.

“Why, though? We’re a team! I told you I’d help you find a cure, Astarion. Please don’t leave me.” Painful tears sting at your eyes, once filled with so much sunshine and radiance. There had even been a touch of naivety to you at that time in your life.

“I don’t want you to.” Astarion was sharp, pointed with his words. “You deserve a break. Months of leading a group of brain-wormed buffoons; you need it. It won’t take me long, and I will be back. I’ll always come back for you.” He reiterates.

The possibility of death was not unfounded. The bitter truth was brutal to swallow but did not subdue your anger. If death were his fate, you could have saved him as you had many times before. It was entirely preventable if the case; he was just too stubborn to see it. Radiance of wealth exuded from your residence; nothing but the best for the hero of Baldur’s Gate. You scoffed. How trivial these things were when you did not have a soul to share it with. Your friends had all gone their separate ways, aside from Wyll and Karlach, who had come to find a happy union together among their time spent so closely in Avernus. Gale had forged a family with a lovely lady from Rivington and now had two children barely into adulthood, himself somewhat up there in age. Lae’Zel wasn’t the best at keeping in touch, but last you had heard, she was off kicking ass like always. Surprisingly, Shadowheart visited you as regularly as she could, but that was still seldom.

All of your old traveling companions had gone on to do great things in their own ways. You were happy for them, you really were, but it’d be a lie if you didn’t admit there was some part of you that envied them. Envied the fulfillment they found within themselves, in the love they discovered in other people. All you had to show for yourself was a house too big for you alone to maintain and, admittedly, a bit of a drinking problem. You grumble as you fight to get the key into the lock of the front door, eager to wash the escapades from earlier off your body.

You slink into the tub's warm water, allowing the liquid to engulf you as you stare at the wall absently. What would you be today if Astarion was at your side? It was a question you had asked yourself a million times over. Probably not the calloused person you became. Not living off of any alcohol you could get your hands on, certainly. Recalling the abandonment made a lump rise in your throat, and you quickly choked it down. No, you would not spill another tear for the man who had left. You would not.

You couldn’t.

You stare at the nearly empty whiskey bottle across the room, but you are sure there is at least enough for a little glass left in it. You refrain from pulling out of the tub with the sole purpose of pouring that glass and instead scrub your body clean. Relief floods over you once you’ve successfully washed off the remnants of the stranger. His seed had stuck to your stomach like a paste when he pulled out, and the way it dried and tightened over your skin had made you want to vomit. You only exit the round tub once you’ve washed your hair. With your silk robe tied loosely around your body, chest exposed, you make a beeline for the whiskey glass that had been teasing you from across the room. A sigh of contempt leaves your mouth when a single drop drips out into your glass. You recap it and debate tossing it, but decide that will be a problem for future you. You take the candle that lit the washroom and shuffle into the hall, holding it far enough in front of you to provide adequate light through the long, dark corridor. The sound of creaking floorboards halts you in your tracks. The sound did not come from beneath your feet, but instead downstairs. Your ears strain in an attempt to make out any other noises. Another creak this time closer to the bottom of your stairs.

You blow out the candle and a quiet incantation for darkvision leaves your lips. There was no fear, whatever sorry bastard chose your home to break into would surely change their tune once they’re at the other end of one of your spells. Suddenly more alert and prepared for whoever emerged, you felt yourself sober as the adrenaline coursed your veins. As quickly as you’re able to make out a faint silhouette bounding up the stairs, another hymn leaves your lips.

“Ignis.”

A firebolt protrudes from the palm of your outstretched hand, bounding quicker for the stranger than they can respond. A searing sounds as it bores straight through the uninvited guest’s clothing, sizzling with now charred flesh. They groan in agony, the silhouette clutching at their injured chest. “You’re quite lucky I like a good chat, or you’d be dead already. Who are you and why are you in my home?” Your voice was unwavering and void of any emotion other than conviction.

“Well, I’d be lying if I say I’m surprised. I do suppose I set myself up for this one, darling. Always the sharp-shooter, you are.” The man attempts a laugh, but it’s lost under the pain in his voice. That voice.

His voice.

Forgotten under a sea of other voices, but you place his cadence immediately. You want to run to him, feel the way his arms fit so naturally around your body, let your lips fall upon his. Your first instincts are quickly replaced with anger. Betrayal. You wanted to hurl another firebolt at him; hells, a fireball would’ve been better but you bite it back. You were angry, but becoming homeless after burning your home down was not something you were prepared to deal with. With a small flick of your wrist, you light the sconces that line the hall and you’re met with the illuminated sight of Astarion. He looks not a day older from the last time you had seen him, dare you say he looked even better.

There’s a tinge of color to his flesh, like he’d been kissed by the morning sun many days over. There was a pink hugh to his skin, reminiscent of fresh blood pumping from a beating heart. Your own skips a beat at the picture of him before you. He was alive. Alive alive. Gone are the ruby-red eyes you had grown to love, replaced with eyes as golden as fresh honey shimmering in the light. You chew the inside of your cheek in an attempt to fight back your tears. Your face remains unchanged despite the flurry of emotions assaulting your brain and heart. “Why are you in my home?” You repeat, as if you had no recollection of the man before you.

Astarion’s features reflect the hurt that he feels from your reaction but quickly he masks it. “Not exactly the welcome-home I was imagining, if I’m telling the truth. This is quite the place you’ve got. I’m pleasantly shocked at how well of a job you did decorating, dear. Though I will probably have to make a few adjustments-”

“Twenty years.” You whisper incredulously, cutting Astarion from his rambling stupor.

“I’m sorry?”

“Twenty years, Astarion!” You shout. You’re no longer able to hold back the floodgates in your eyes. They prick unforgivingly, threatening to pool over onto flushed cheeks. “Twenty years you were gone! And here you are, acting like nothing happened; acting like not a day has passed since we’ve last spoke!” You wipe the tears from your face, angrily laughing that your emotions had betrayed you so. “You don’t even know who I am anymore and you think for a second I’ll allow you in a position to hurt me again?”

Astarion is taken aback by the furious passion that laces your every word. The wound he had been nursing with his hand is abandoned as he attempts to step closer, but you take a swift step back. “It had to be done, Tav. The journey to get where I am today was an arduous one. One that I was not willing to ask you to take with me.”

Your jaw clenches, and there’s no time to collect yourself before you respond. “You didn’t have to ask. I told you I would have followed you through the hells if it meant being with you.” You practically spit the words.

“I wouldn’t allow that.”

“Gods, Astarion! Are you so dense that you don’t see it wasn’t your decision to make regarding what is best for me?” The venom is thick in your tone. “Maybe I would be some semblance of the same person you abandoned all those years ago if I had at least gotten to say goodbye. Perhaps if you had sent a letter I’d be a little more forthcoming with you right now.”

“It was not my intention to abandon you.” He quips back, but sees it was the wrong thing to say as the fire burns brighter behind your eyes. “Against my better judgement I guess that is what I did. Only because I couldn’t fathom saying goodbye to you. I-” He pauses for a beat. “I thought it may make things easier on you, too.”

The laugh that leaves your mouth was a chortle, filled with malice and sarcasm. You grasped for anyway to hurt him in the way he hurt you, “Well you ruined me, Astarion.”

“I did not, you look-”

“Looks are deceiving. I would figure you know that by now. For example, just by looking at me you probably can’t tell I drank my weight in whiskey today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.” You purse your lips. “You probably can’t tell that I allowed a bastard of a man to open my legs and fuck me simply because he shared your hair color just earlier in the evening. Or that a tenday ago I fucked another man who’s laugh almost made me believe you were there. Only for a moment, of course.” There was shame in your words and you wanted to cry harder as you voiced all of the ways you had failed to care for yourself. The desire to make him feel what you felt was too great. You wanted him to hate you the way you had grown to despise him.

His arms pulled you firmly against him, his head ducking to bury his face into your wet hair. You soften under his touch, allowing yourself to go limp as he holds you. Guilt eats at Astarion’s subconscious as you cry into his shirt. It didn’t matter if you tried to push him away. It didn’t matter what you had done to cope with his absence. He was home and he was going to prove to you that he was not going anywhere ever again. Everything he had gone through in the past twenty years, he had powered through with the thought of making it home.

You were his home.

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion x reader #tav #reader #ascended!astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #x reader

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aluciahaz · 2 months

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i love finding new authors who i can tell are good as hell at writing 😭😭 anywho,, bottom!alastor x gn!reader? I like to think he's very shy about intimacy, so perhaps gentle sex with him? (+ if you can add sensitive al :3 )

a/n— ahhh thank you!!! i try my best lmao

but im SOO SORRY THIS FIC IS like probably not completely what you asked for 😭 writing for alastor is way harder than i thought but i super tried i swear!! im just not good at writing soft fics 😭😭 i hope you enjoy it though!!

memories in this second life

— alastor x gn!reader

— includes : smut, bottom!alastor, dom!reader, very soft times, sensitive alastor

you know alastor’s mannerisms. his smile may be unwavering, but the rest of his body was not.

you can notice his nervousness from the slight twitch in his ears to the subtle change in his static, randomly increasing and lowering in small increments. it was hardly noticeable, anyone who didn’t know his static patterns would never be able to tell.

but you know.

you cup his face with a delicate kiss to his nose as a gift, making his eyes come in contact with your own gaze instead of the floor.

“nervous?” you ask, smiling gently as he melts into your touch. he gives you a nervous chuckle in response, placing his hand on top of the one on his face with similar tenderness.

“perhaps,” he says coyly, as though you can’t notice how his eyes would shift away from yours once more.

you run your other hand through the red tufts of his hair, your fingers scratching the base of his ears. soon, he pinned them back, letting you pet his hair as you pepper kisses over his slender neck.

soon, his meekness seemed to dissipate as the night continued. he was quite sensitive, whimpering at the slightest touches to his cock and practically keening from your hand, your slow strokes slowly making his voice crack like a faulty radio.

“you ready?” you ask as your fingers rest against his entrance lightly, his legs trembling in anticipation.

“as i’ll ever be, dear,” he says with a smile, only to soon weaken as a moan slips past his lips with the sudden feeling of your finger pressing inside him.

you’re delighted to see how well alastor takes it, his ears still pressing back against his head as he arches into the pillows behind him. his hands, once tearing at the blankets, made their way over his mouth, covering his lovely noises. still shy, huh?

you click your tongue in disapproval before driving your fingers to the sweet spot inside of him as you lift his hands away from his face.

his eyes fluttered open, his mouth in a surprised smile as he gasps. there was a beauty to his disheveled hair and dusted red face, but the sugar on the cream was that you could now hear his voice without him muffling it.

and for once, there was no static.

“…mind doing that again?” alastor asks quietly, feigning composure when in reality his body spoke the truth. who could ignore such a prominent blush?

you weren’t one to deny someone so sweet. so again and again, you press that spot so foreign to the man until the feeling is engrained into his mind like english on his tongue.

later on, your fingers leave, and instead you’re the one moving inside of him, his legs wrapping around you with one hand clawing at the unfortunate sheets below him, the other intertwined with your own in a loving embrace.

“how does it feel?” you ask between breaths, looking down at your lover below you. you can’t hide the amused smile on your face as you watch him tremble underneath you, unable speak without a whine slipping between his words.

“good—ah, good—!” his cries were his voice, not the radio demon’s, no, just alastor’s. the static that accompanied his speech had become so normal that you barely ever noticed anymore, but with it gone, you can really appreciate his sweet tone. the way he says your name with such need, how he cries at each slow thrust.

this voice in particular was made for your ears, not radio.

“ha—close, darling, close—!” he moans, wanton and desperate for release. but more importantly, you. your lips taste like love, and your hand feels like bliss. it was overwhelming, this feeling, but so right at the same time.

soon, with a stuttered wail, he finally finishes, his eyes briefly rolling back in ecstasy. your other hand feels his tighten around yours like he was scared of letting you go, and you squeeze it back in assurance.

“i’m here, i’m here…” you whisper, your strokes around his cock slowing down as you let him come down from his high. his back falls back down to the mattress from its arched state as he tries to compose his thoughts. you try to pull out, only to be stopped with a hand on your shoulder and a shake of the head from your lover beneath you.

you kiss his forehead, chuckling at his behavior. “how was it?” you murmur, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

he glances up at you for a brief moment.

“…quite nice, actually.”

his words are practically inaudible as he speaks, still trying to steady his breathing.

the two of you stay like that for awhile, engulfed in each other’s presence as you quietly chatter about meaningless things, yet filled with mutual love. brief moments like this were truly precious, and both of you held it dear to your hearts even when the night closed your eyes and morning opens them.

welcoming the both of you to a new day to create more memories in this second life.

a/n — sorry that this isn’t that creative??? i couldnt think of any good metaphors or similes like my last fic 💀 also apologies for it being so long as well, i kind of got off track 😭

— tags : @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

#sub hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel dom reader #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #dom reader #sub alastor #bottom alastor

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cyberchronics · 6 months

Text

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

wriothesley + aphrodisiacs ♡♡

he's always prepared for whatever trouble you plan on causing while visiting him at the Fortress. toys? almost too easy to deal with. a sexy outfit? it only makes him wish he could take it off. restraints? don't make him laugh. he'll wear a collar like a badge of honor let you use his handcuffs.

but for whatever reason, he never expected you to be this sneaky. his cup of tea is barely halfway finished before the effects wash over him, making his body grow weak as he slowly recognizes the feeling. his underwear grows tighter and a stifled groan slips past reddened lips as his glass is set on the table.

he knew buying you that pyro regisvine nectar would come back to bite him in the ass.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

Every visit to Meropide starts the same. Wriothesley greeting you with a kiss on cheek and escorting you to his office, allowing you past all the security checks without so much as a patdown or walking through a single metal detector. That's how you always manage to sneak in things that has no business being a prison.

He never regrets it, of course. It's the highlight of his day when you find a new way to get him horny and pinned against his desk, ink spilling over once more and ruining hours worth of paperwork.

Today, you managed to sneak an aphrodisiac in his drink at tea time. He doesn't know how he didn't see you pour it in, nor how the cheeky smile on your face didn't alert him. But that's the least of his concern as he slowly ruts against the thigh pinning him in place. He's practically begging for your touch like this, drool spilling past his lips and soaking into his tie.

"Mmph... please, baby." Every movement is achingly slow to Wriothesley. He hates when your skin isn't on his, wishing you would just rip off his clothes instead of slowly unbuttoning each article like he was a delicate doll. You know he can take the rough treatment, he thinks, just give him what he wants.

He's laid out prettily on his desk, papers crinkled under the curve of his ass while his legs dangle off the edge. The tuft of hair at the base of his cock is shining, soaked in fluid as your fingers wrap around the shaft. He bucks up into the warmth blindly, glad that this isn't a punishment as he throws his head back.

Spilling into your hand once isn't nearly enough for him. In fact, he feels as if he'll never be satisfied again as his hips keep going desperately. His cock slaps against his stomach as you let it go, the whine in his throat slipping out as he grabs your wrist and pulls your body on top of his own. Wriothesley's words are slurred as he whispers into your ear.

"I know you did this to me... take responsibility."

And so you do.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

a/n: def didn't forget about ktober.... also wrio is so bad im def writing more for him

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wrio x reader #wriothesley x reader #sub wriothesley #rabid for him #⛓️#☄️

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rodolfoparras · 3 months

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Cw: 18+, blowjobs, anal play, old man price, mythological world, ritual sacrifice, virgin! Price, bottom!price, centaur!male reader

For @lieutnt 🫶🏻

Thinking about old man Price who lives in a little town terrorized by what’s known as an evil creature. In order to keep the creature at bay the towns people sacrifice a virgin every year.

However throughout the years the population has decreased so there’s just one virgin left and it’s Price, but he’s a man, and an old one at that.

But he willingly agrees to the ordeal because he doesn’t have anyone left - no friends no family so might as well end his misery.

The towns people prepare him in the best way they can; they groom him and feed him whatever he wishes to eat, all while he pretends that they aren’t setting him up for his death sentence.

The day finally comes when he is to be sacrificed and he is absolutely terrified. What if the creature thinks they’re mocking it by bringing an old man?

But Price tries to tell himself that this - death- is what he wanted in the first place so he shouldn’t have a reason to be scared.

But he can feel himself shake as he approaches the place where he is to be sacrificed. It is a dense wooded area with a small lake laying nearby, along with that it’s eerily quiet but Price sits down on his designated spot and waits for the creature to come.

He waits and waits, hears his heart beating in his chest, fingers nervously fiddling with the grass under him

All of a sudden he hears steps, that sound something akin to galloping and he freezes in place, doesn’t even dare breathe as he hears the creature approach him.

The steps come to a halt and he feels someone’s hot breath washing over his skin, can smell an earthy scent surrounding him, can even see a shadowy figure reflected onto the grassy field.

His eyes squeeze shut, fingers clutching onto tufts of grass while he silently wishes goodbye to whoever might hear or see him now.

But instead of meeting his demise he’s being flipped around and met with the sight of a man, no half man half horse. This must be the creature that’s been terrorizing his town but you don’t look anything like what he’d imagined and you certainly don’t act anything like it, when you gently cupping his cheek, eyes trailing over him as if taking him in before a contented hum escapes your lips.

Slowly but surely you’re stripping the clothes off of him, before laying him on a tree stub- the stub used for sacrifice, all while keeping a gentle hoof beneath him, essentially cushioning him from the rough surface.

He feels exposed like this, cold air caressing his bare skin and raising goosebumps all over his body.

But he doesn’t feel scared, not when you’re gentle as ever as you drag your hands over his rib cage, down to his hips before stopping at his thighs, big strong hands firmly pinning him to the stub.

You don’t say anything, maybe you don’t even know how to speak but Price likes to think that maybe you’re admiring him, that you aren’t as disgusted as he thought you’d be at having an old splayed out in front of you.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it any longer before he feels your long wet tongue languidly dragging along his shaft, and Price cries out, so loud he scares the birds that had been resting in the trees nearby. The small animals swiftly fly away as you drag your tongue across his slit, before suckling on his tip.

Your mouth is hot and ever so eager as you suck on his dick, a mess of slick and spit collecting on his skin, eagerly devorouing him like he’d devoured his last meal and Price looses himself in the feeling.

He thought that he’d be here to please but instead you’re the one buried between his thighs, taking care of this old man and he could almost cry- from pleasure - from relief and he does, fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks as he claws at the stub beneath him.

“Please, please-“ he pleads, hands desperately reaching out as he feels you pull away from his cock.

But within seconds he’s being flipped around on the stub, ass in the air, head buried in the ground as he feels cold wet fingers caress his spine.

“Please, take me please,” he’s not even aware what he’s saying anymore mind hazy and lost in please and eager oh so eager for more “please,” he cries out into the sky, looking up at what appears to be blurry stars in his teary eyes .

You grant him his wish, working one- two- three fingers inside of him, but it’s not enough, even with the pleasant burn and strech that comes with it. He needs more, starts clawing at your hooves in desperation while muttering the words “please take me please take me,”

But you ignore his please, continuing to scissor your fingers inside of him, stretching him til he starts feeling empty even with four thick digits fucking into him,

For a second Price thinks you won’t accept him as your offering, maybe you’d gone this far and decided he wasn’t worth it and he almost breaks down right then and there, mind distraught while also hazy with pleasure, desperately fucking himself back on your fingers, and chasing whatever crumbs of pleasure you’re willing to give him.

But just as he’s about to tip over the edge you pull away but only to line up your cockhead with his entrance, before you push inside of him.

You had accepted his offering.

You had accepted him.

#call of duty #this is a queue I am zzzing MWAH MWAH MWAH #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #dom male reader #sub male character #top male reader #bottom male character #I was listening to abbey by mitski while writing TBIS #it’s not perfect it’s just my thoughts in a quick Drabble but yeah

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enviedear · 5 months

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omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die

protective!billy bonney...

babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.

tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)

request

it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.

it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.

it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.

you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.

"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.

you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.

the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"

his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.

the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.

the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."

your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.

"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.

the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.

"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"

you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.

"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.

the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."

you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."

the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."

but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.

the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.

you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.

"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."

the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.

you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.

you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.

together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

#billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid #billy bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid 2022 #coriolanus x reader #corio x reader #coryo x reader

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