#and there’s all these little things that I don’t want to just toss away to time

[manestjerne]

I'll do that again for you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: Bucky pushes you away again and you let him this time.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, swearing, comfort, a little fluff, doubts, angry behavior, mentions of physical abuse and injuries, crying. Let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: I'm not sure about this one, but it's been on my mind for so long I had to finally sit down and write it all down. Hope you enjoy it guys <3

I walked into Bucky’s apartment and tossed my keys on the dining table before opening the fridge and getting myself a bottle of water. I looked around slowly and walked to the pile of bedsheets on the floor. I picked them up before sitting down on the couch. The quiet sound of shower in the other room seemed to wash all my worries away, but I knew they will come back the moment I see him. His deep blue, tired eyes full of regret and and guilt, his usually steady hands shaking whenever we were alone. All the things no one else besides me was allowed to see. Things that only I could perceive in a conference room full of people. Things I couldn’t do anything about. He was more devastated than ever when Steve started talking about leaving him. Leaving us, but Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around that, believing I have already found my peace in other people. As compassionate as he was, he never saw how lonely I was since I was trying to get him his life back. But I never blamed him. 

The peaceful sound of water flowing got quiet unexpectedly, making me snap back to reality. I heard quiet footsteps getting closer and my heart started pounding in my chest. 

„Hey sweets, you’re here early.” 

He said calmly, sitting on the couch next to me. I only replied with a smile, realizing he looks worse than usually. He wasn’t surprised I was here, I always were on friday mornings. We talked about his last therapy session before going to the compound together, it was our routine. The thing that kept us both on tracks, helping to get a steady rhythm in our messed up lives, something to stick with for once. But today my thoughts were focused on something else, I didn’t care about the therapy, knowing he might finally found something better to help him get his life together. 

„How was your date yesterday?”

„It was awful and I don’t want to talk about it” 

His reply was dry and harsh. He didn’t to that often while talking to me. He had a soft spot there, always treating me gently and respectful, but I knew this moment would come, sooner or later. I knew the perfect bubble of our strange relationship would finally burst, because he couldn’t handle it. I knew it would change for him, but never for me, I felt the same way since I met him, when he squeezed my throat so hard that I passed out and had to look at the bruises covering my body for the next two weeks whenever I passed a mirror. But even as a Winter Soldier, his eyes were the same, that’s why I chose to help Steve get him back. That’s why I had the worst possible fight with Tony, when he told me I can’t just pick up assassins from the streets and adopt them like stray cats. He never said that about Wanda, he never called Nat an assassin, but he never hesitated when it came to Bucky. Thinking about that sent shivers down my spine, remembering how much I had to give up to bring things back to normal, to help them understand that the Winter Soldier is not the person standing in front of them.

„So I chose a wrong person again?” 

I asked with a weak smile. It wasn’t the first date he didn’t enjoy, but he never blamed me for that.

„You chose the wrong thing for me, I don’t get why do you want me to find a fucking love of my life by setting me up on hookups I don’t want to attend.”

His voice started to sound unsettling, I shifted in my seat and straightened my back, looking at him carefully. He tried to do that earlier, to push me away by scaring me, but I never let him. I knew he would never hurt me, too focused on protecting me at all costs, like his life depended on it.

„Don’t be such a dick and stop blaming me for your poor love life, I’m just trying to help you get back to reality.”

I was surprised by my own words, I never spoke to him that way, no matter how he treated me. I felt a wave of frustration flushing through my veins, making me feel like my blood is boiling. I looked at his hands, his metal fingers clenching in a fist, the flesh hand rubbing on the soft fabric of his jeans, but I knew how much they were trembling at this moment and how much he was fighting himself not to break the character he was trying to play. 

„I never asked for it.”

His jaw clenched and I felt a sting in my chest at his words. No matter how grateful he was for me being there, he would never admit it, he would never say how much he needed and appreciated all I ever did for him. 

„Do you want me to leave?” 

I decided to make it easier for him, knowing he would struggle with saying it out loud. He never wanted me to leave his side, but he thought it was the right thing, and I couldn’t fight it anymore.

„I don’t want you to play a babysitter anymore, seeing one shrink at a time is enough.” 

He huffed and rolled his eyes, almost making me believe his words and for the first time I felt some kind of doubt. My safe place by his side was slowly fading away as he kept looking at me with something what felt like blame in his eyes. I shrinked into my seat trying to find any words, but every time I opened my mouth the room was filled with nothing but silence. 

„Do you want me to leave?” 

I repeated myself quietly, not able to find any other words suitable for what I was feeling at the moment.

„Are you even fucking listening?”

He wasn’t angry, but frustrated. I didn’t flinch at his voice, but I could feel the tears filling up my eyes slowly. I got up and picked my keys up from the table. After a few short breaths I found the courage to face him again.

„That’s what I do all the time, James. I listen. I wish you could do that for once.”

With my last word I turned away and walked to the door. He never tried to stop me, he didn’t say anything before I left. I held my tears back for as long as I could, letting go at the moment I sat in my car. I doubted all I did for him at the moment, knowing that one of us wasn’t ready for what we were doing, but I couldn’t realize who was the problem.

-----

„It’s been a week since you stopped attending the meetings. If Tony was mad earlier, you don’t want to know what Steve said today.”

Nat entered my room without knocking as always. She brought me a piece of Wanda’s cake, but I pushed the plate away, still refusing to eat whenever I wasn’t starving.

„I really just don’t want to see him, I’m not ready for that.”

She sat on the bed next to me, looking at me closely and sinking every word I said. It was the first time I said anything about what happened that day and she was willing to listen carefully to every word I say, analyzing every sigh and deep breath between them. I felt bad about treating her this way, she deserved to know everything, but I was scared of what I was going to say, I tried not to think about it, knowing my pain is now fully replaced with anger and frustration.

„I did everything I could, all this months I tried to help him and he acts like a fucking brat, trying to push me away. I’m so done with him, I’m not going back and begging him to let me do that all again. If he’s so devoted to Steve let’s just stick with that and let him live his pathetic little life without my interruptions.” 

I said it all in one breath trying not to sound paranoid, but Nat only nodded slowly and laid on her back, staring at the perfectly white ceiling. 

„I respect your every decision, but he’s only doing that to help you, and you know that. It’s you, who convinced me he means no harm and just can’t deal with his own mind, that’s why he’s trying to push you away. But it’s okay you’re tired with that, you don’t deserve it.”

I rolled on my stomach laying next to her and picked up the plate she put on the bed earlier. I stared at all the layers of my favorite toppings and saw how uneven it was looking, realizing Natasha helped Wanda with cooking this time. I smiled to myself remembering how much she hates doing that. 

"Just wait for him to come back, he'll do it eventually."

„Thanks Nat, I’m glad you’re here.” 

I said before dipping my fork in the cake.

---

Everyone got quiet when I entered the shared kitchen, it was the first time I was in the same room with Bucky since I left his apartment in tears. But I didn’t mind his presence, I knew he’s not going to bring it up when there were so many people around and I wasn’t planning on giving him a chance to speak to me in private. I walked up to the counter and poured myself a glass of water before heading to the coffee machine. I waited for my drink to brew when I turned away and rested my elbows on the counter behind me, almost tasting the tensed atmosphere I brought into the room. 

„Are you planning on attending any meetings this week or should I just send you a fax with our arrangements?” 

Tony asked calmly. He was mad at me, but acting as a human as possible he wasn’t planning on letting me know.

„Yeah, I’ll be there today.”

I shrugged my shoulders when Steve rolled his eyes, but I wasn’t looking at him. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the countertop in front of him, filled with guilt. He looked pathetic and I blamed myself for enjoying the view. After hearing a quiet beep my eyes left him to pick up the coffee.

„See you at 6.”

I said and started walking away lazily with mug in one hand and a glass of water in another. I was slowly getting used to this, feeling more comfortable leaving my room, not caring about the stares.

„You two should just fuck and let us get back to normal.”

I froze at Tony’s words and turned back to face him unconsciously.

„Come on, we can all see how you’re looking at each other, let’s finally get over this awkward phase.”

„Shut up.” 

Bucky replied him firmly at his next words, but Tony just shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his cereal. I tightened my grip on the glass in my hand and looked him in the eyes, shaking my head slowly. Little did he know, we did that once, a few weeks back and it never helped, it never changed our relationship. I couldn’t find proper words to respond so I just walked away and stopped after passing the first corner, when no one could see me. I let my head fall back and took a few deep breaths, feeling the almost healed wound open up again. I started walking away when I heard footsteps approaching me, but he was faster and caught up with me after only a few seconds. He blocked my way with his body, towering over me before I could reach the elevator and hide in my room. 

„He shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” 

Bucky was trying to look me in the eyes but I successfully avoided it.

„Don’t act like you regret anything.”

I huffed and tried to pass him, but it was impossible. He raised his hand to tuck the strand of hair behind my ear but I flinched at his movement. He was visibly hurt by that, but not surprised, taking a step back his gaze never left me. 

„Can we just talk like adult people do?”

„You’re not so good at that.”

I replied coldly, matching his earlier energy, trying to push him away as he did so many times.

„I am, you taught me that.”

„No, that’s a job for a shrink, so I’m not doing that again.”

„I know how you fee-„

„No, you fucking don’t!”

I replied throwing a glass at him, my words louder than necessary. He didn’t flinch, knowing I wasn’t actually aiming at him. The glass flew next to his face and shattered at the wall behind him. 

„Fuck.” 

I mumbled and dropped on my knees to pick up the glass from the floor. He kneeled besides me and pulled me away gently, grabbing the shattered pieces with his metal hand. 

„You’ll hurt yourself.”

He said gently and I almost fell in his arms after these words, knowing how much I miss him and how much I want to be allowed to do that again. 

„Like you care.”

I huffed in response and entered the elevator leaving him alone, kneeling in the puddle wetting his jeans, letting my frustration take over.

-----

I heard a soft knocking on my door. I raised myself on my elbows before realizing Nat and Wanda never knock, no matter what time they decide to come see me, so I rolled over with my back facing the door now. I didn’t want to talk to anybody else at the moment.

„I know you’re not sleeping, I can hear your uneven breath.”

I heard the words clearly, even tho his whisper was muffled by the door separating us. I didn’t respond, knowing he’ll come in eventually. I heard a resigned sigh before the door opened. His quiet footsteps echoing in my head when he circled the room and kneeled besides my bed to face me. 

„I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

He said confidently waiting for my answer, but also knowing I’m not going to speak. He gave me a few seconds to make sure I don’t have anything to say before he spoke up again.

„I know how you feel, I can see how much you have to give up in order to help me. I know how alone you are, even with so many people supporting you. I know you did it all to make me feel better and I appreciate it more than anything, I need your help just as much as you think and more.”

I was a little confused at his words, actually admitting all the things he couldn’t say earlier.

„Then why are you like that?”

I felt the tears filling up my eyes again, but I didn’t care, letting them fall on my cheeks as our murmurs were filling up the quiet room. 

„Because I can’t stand watching you do this. You don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you, but I can’t function without you. I need you back and I’ll do everything for you to forgive me again.”

His hand slowly landed on my cheek, wiping the tears away as he looked me in the eyes.

„See, that’s the problem. Again. How many times will you push me away before finally opening up and letting me really help you?”

My voice wasn’t shaking as much, feeling his touch calmed me down as always, no matter how I wanted to resist the feeling.

„I won’t do that ever again, I won’t hurt you. I just need you back, as clingy as always, being a pain in my ass every Friday morning, asking about my therapy. Making me watch all the stupid romantic movies, cuddling on the couch when I’m trying to move away. Dragging me back to bed when I lay on the floor and making me talk about my nightmares before we fall asleep again.”

"Who would think that Bucky Barns could ever kneel before a woman."

"And I'll do it again for you."

I couldn’t help but giggled at his words, knowing how much I miss that feeling too, no matter he was trying to act like he hates it, he loved it more than I did. He smiled softly at my reaction, and I knew it was sincere. He slowly stood up and took the covers off me. Picking me up gently he moved me to make space for himself and laid next to me, resting my head on his chest before pulling the covers over us once more.

„Just come back for the last time and I promise I won’t act like a brat and start treating you as you deserve. I would do anything for you and I can’t run from it anymore. I’m ready to give you everything I can and finally take care of you, like you did this whole time.”

He brushed his fingers through my hair and I nodded slowly, knowing he finally understood that pushing me away is not an option. I took a deep breath smelling his cologne and my eyelids got heavy as my body started to relax. I closed my eyes sinking in the feeling of our bodies being so close again, our legs tangled under the duvet, his heart beating right where my head was resting. 

„Just close your eyes now, and we’ll start everything again tomorrow, okay?”

He asked quietly, his flesh hand not leaving my hair and the metal once still drawing circles on my back.

„Okay.”

I said before falling asleep, knowing I won’t wake up in the middle of the night as I did every time for the past week. 

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier #the avengers #mcu #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #tony stark #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky oneshot #avengers x reader #bucky x female reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel oneshot #mcu fanfiction #mcu oneshot

[steddiecameraroll]

“Whatever, now he’s just somebody that I used to know.” Steve shakes his head in annoyance.

Dustin won’t let it go. He’s still trying to get Steve to go with him to visit Eddie. As if he wants to travel across state lines to visit his ex boyfriend. Ex being the keyword.

“Yeah but he used to be your boyfriend. Come on, Steve. Eddie would be so surprised.”

“No shit. I’m sure he’d throw open the door and just be so elated to see me standing there. Toss his arms up and cheer with glee.” Steve swears Dustin better hear the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“He will! I swear.”

“Have you absolutely lost it? Do you not remember how he broke up with me? He sent Jeff to my place to pick up his shit. Couldn’t even bother to do it himself. Then he changed his fucking number, Dustin. Does that sound like someone that would be happy to see me? He couldn’t risk the tiny chance that I would reach out to him. He went far enough to avoid me that he moved and didn’t say a fucking thing. So no, I won’t be joining you on this lovely weekend trip to Chicago. And for the love of god, stop asking me.” He punctuates his point by slamming the refrigerator door shut.

“Sorry, ok, I’ll stop.”

Steve glares over his shoulder at the boy. He can’t believe Dustin could have forgotten how painful their break up had been for Steve. Eddie dumping him out of the blue and subsequently disappearing like none of it meant anything to him. As if their relationship was just a smudge to be wiped away with a damp cloth.

Steve’s just made it to the angry stage of it all and for Dustin to completely disregard his feelings is especially crushing. He knows their relationship veers closer to a sibling connection. It’s why Dustin’s usual prodding doesn’t drive him as crazy as it does others but there is a time and place, and the subject matter of Eddie Munson is never an option. Not to Steve at least.

“I just thought-“

“Don’t,” Steve cuts the boy off. “It’s over. I’ve accepted it, you should too.”

Dustin nods silently with a twist to his mouth.

“I beg you, never speak to me about him ever again. If he wants to act like I don’t exist, then I get to do the same thing.”

“No, but Steve, that’s not- he asks about you all the time!” Dustin rushes out before Steve can strangle him.

Steve whips around scowling at the boy. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not, no, he does! I swear, Steve.” Dustin rushes to keep up pace with Steve when he turns heel and rushes out of the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Steve grits out.

“I swear on my mother. Every time I call him he asks how you’re doing. Or what classes you’re taking. Or how your new job is.”

Steve’s fingers are digging into his palms as he fists his hands at his sides. He’s trying so hard not to lose his shit right now. He’s breathing heavy as Dustin stomps behind him down the hallway.

“I swear, just come with me. He misses you.”

“SHUT UP,” Steve spins around and yells in Dustin’s face. “No he doesn’t! No he doesn’t! If he did then he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have left without saying a word. He wouldn’t have ripped my heart out and destroyed me.” Steve’s anger is fizzing over into sorrow and he knows he’s failing at keeping the tears at bay.

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice cracks.

“NO!” Steve throws his finger in Dustin’s face. “I don’t want to hear it. I loved him and he betrayed me. He means nothing to me now. Nothing. Do you understand?” Dustin nods nervously. “He’s just some guy, now.”

Steve sighs with a heavy heart. Every muscle in his body is immediately exhausted. He thought he was done having to think about Eddie Munson. Thought he was past the point of letting the man get to him but here he is shaking profusely and on the verge of breaking down because Dustin is asking him to go on a road trip.

“Dustin, please.” Steve asks shakily. He’s so close to tears. “If you care about me even a little, you won’t do this to me. You don’t understand. He was just your friend, brother in arms and all. He was my-,” Steve chokes back the lump in his throat. “He was my everything. And if what you’re saying is true, then Eddie can try and fix this himself. He can get in his fucking piece of shit van and drive his goddamn ass back here and tell me himself. I’m the victim here. He did this so he can fix it. Now get out.”

“Steve,” Dustin pleads.

“No. Get. Out.”

Dustin nods solemnly then shuffles around gathering his things, and leaving Steve alone a few minutes later. Once Steve hears the front door close with a soft click, he collapses onto his couch and cries into one of the throw pillows.

#cw implied unhappy ending #post breakup #I watched that dancing TikTok to Gotye and had some feelings to get out #steddie #sad and hurt #steve harrington

[hxney-lemcn]

Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

[frogserotonin]

overthinker- lars pinfield x reader

a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁

“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.

“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters. 

“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.

“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.

A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.

Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt. 

“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.

“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders. 

When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.

“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh. 

“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?” 

You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore. 

“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.

“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters frozen empire

[vylad243]

hiiii! 💕 I know you said you aren’t taking on too many requests atm, so it’s no pressure at all if you don’t feel like responding for a bit — your comfort is top priority after all! But here’s a bit of a fandom AU classic for you: radiostatic beauty and the beast AU.

Vox is a young, brilliant, beautiful, and talented up-and-coming overlord hoping to make it in the scene with his newfangled television idea — Hell still being in The Dark Ages (TM) at this time. He feels unsatisfied with his life and is ostracized/shunned by his fellow overlords and sinners who assume he’s stuck up and find his constant push for innovation odd (“what is this so-called electricity thing? We were doing JUST fine with the trashfires, thank you!”) Not helping matters is that he is also being actively “pursued” (aka harassed) by Valentino, who keeps proposing that they team up for business purposes but really just wants Vox’s soul/Vox all to himself and won’t take no for an answer. Despite his aspirations, Vox is content to live as happy and simple a life can have in Hell alongside his beloved personal assistant Papermint and Vark.

Things take a turn when, one day, Papermint goes out to run an errand while walking Vark and doesn’t return. Concerned for his assistant’s safety, especially after Vark returns Papermintless, Vox does some investigating (sidenote: I headcanon that Vox used to be a journalist when he was human, so he’d have the skillset) and after doing enough digging, realizes that Papermint had vanished around the premises of a seemingly abandoned and derelict hotel on the outskirts of Pride. Heading there himself, he finds himself taken aback when common household appliances start talking to him and notices a strange magical aura permeating the old building as he scopes it out. He eventually finds Papermint in the dungeon and is confronted by the imposing form of a giant, territorial wendigo — however he quickly recognizes the creature as Alastor, a former overlord who had mysteriously gone radio silent seven years ago and was presumed dead by the masses. He had caught Papermint trespassing on his property and had tossed him in the dungeon with plans to turn him into a future meal for attempting to steal from him: the poor assistant had tried to make off with a beautiful antique radio as a gift for Vox to cheer him up after Val’s latest stint had left him considerably heated and had wrongfully assumed the place was abandoned.

Vox, as you can imagine, is having absolutely none of this and barters with the Radio Demon to release Papermint and, in exchange, he’ll take his place as his prisoner and next meal—as it was his fault his assistant wound up in this predicament anyway, and besides it’s not like anyone will care if he’s gone anyway, right? Alastor is taken aback by this young demon’s gutless nature and sacrifice (and perhaps even a little flattered as well), but honours his wishes and let's Papermint go, arranging him a room to stay in and allowing Vox free reign of the hotel as long as he stays away from the forbidden radio tower. Vox is likewise just as confused by Alastor’s gentleman nature as anyone probably would be: having heard many, many stories before of the “terrifying and ruthless, bloodthirsty” Radio Demon, Vox is mostly shocked that he hasn’t been torn limb from limb yet. He finds himself adjusting to life at the hotel fairly quickly, finding the strange sense of solace it provides the much needed reprieve from his life back home, despite the occasional bouts of homesickness (missing Papermint and Vark in particular). He even quickly befriends and bonds with the enchanted staff, which includes a gothic raggedy Ann type doll named Velvette (who naturally is at the ready to give him a makeover at the drop of a hat), a vintage tea kettle set named Rosie, Niffty — a feather duster, and so on.

However, despite his terrifying appearance and reputation, Alastor is mostly just an awkward loner desperately seeking companionship and sees a worthy potential friend in Vox (although rest assured, the Radio Demon will not hesitate to rip you apart with his teeth if you cross him); living in exile after being cursed into this form by Lilith herself for his arrogance, Alastor has long since given up hope on breaking the curse and his content to live a quiet life in isolation with his enchanted servants. However something about this Vox creature draws his attention and fascination quickly turns into affection the longer the two interact and bond. It isn’t too long before Alastor realizes that he no longer wishes Vox to just be his friend, but his mate: with much of the help of the staff, he begins the process of attempting to court Vox over the span of a year — unfortunately, years in isolation has left the poor stag with the social skills of a rock, so Vox doesn’t immediately clue in on what’s going on but is flattered by the lovely and thoughtful gifts and increasing invites to dinner and dances. Unbeknownst to Al, Vox soon starts developing feelings of his own toward the terrifying but kind demon as well, but is too scared to act on them in fear of being rejected like he is with everyone else. Velvette, and the rest of the staff are all sighing and shaking their heads at the mutual idiocy of these two.

Unfortunately, their budding romance is put to the test when Alastor realizes that, by the end of this year, if his spell isn’t broken, then he will be permanently trapped in this state and will be lost to his animalistic urges, putting Vox at a great risk of getting hurt. He allows Vox the opportunity to go visit his family back home for some time and uses his absence to sneak out of the hotel and meet up with the princess — who had been letting him and his thralls hide away in her hotel this whole time — in secret, hoping to figure out how to finally break his curse before anyone gets hurt; Charlie is, unfortunately, unable to break the curse herself but informs him that if he performs one truly selfless act for someone he loves, then the spell will be broken and he will be restored to his former power.

And just beyond the gates of the hotel, things in Hell aren’t looking so hot either: Vox’s disappearance was initially brushed off, as was Papermint’s claims of the Radio Demon still being alive, but now — six months in without power and the media demon still not showing has made speculation rise. Things only go more out of control when Alastor himself is accidentally spotted on one of Vox’s still functioning security cameras leaving a secret meeting with the princess. Shit hits the fan and, ever the opportunist, Valentino seizes the chance to rile up both the public and his fellow overlords into taking down the Radio Demon before he becomes too “difficult to manage”, his efforts only strengthening when Vox suddenly reappears back in Pentagram City, still alive and singing the Radio Demon’s praises as he gleefully reunites with his beloved assistant and pet shark once more. Valentino tries to pressure Vox into staying away from the hotel even longer and becomes more aggressive/possessive in his advances as a result — accusing the wendigo of brainwashing him and projecting so, so hard in the process. Vox, fed up with the moth’s disgusting dehumanizing treatment of him, denounces him and tells him flat out that he’d rather die than be Val’s little plaything, inadvertently letting his feelings for Alastor slip in the process. Enraged at this final, brutal rejection, Val knocks Vox unconscious and keeps him locked up in his tower for a time, using his sudden disappearance and staged evidence to fake the media overlord’s murder and further rally up the people and leads them into an attack on the hotel — fully intending on killing Alastor so that Vox has nobody left to go to but him.

Meanwhile poor Al is beside himself with worry over his mate not returning but falls into despair at the thought that Vox has abandoned him the longer he fails to return, and meanwhile Vox desperately tries to escape Val’s tower, realizing that he really is in love with Alastor and vowing to kill Valentino himself should anything happen to his Radio Demon. He manages to get a distress message to Papermint, Vark and a stowaway Velvette, who help him break out and together, they race to go save Alastor before it’s too late.

This is quite a long one! While this is a great prompt, sadly this would be quite a large project and I don't want to do anything too big for prompts since I like to keep them to 1k-3k words. Maybe one day I'll shorten this down and make it into a prompt, but not right now

Thank you for the prompt regardless! It sounds really interesting!

#hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #anonymous #radiostatic

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.

Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.

If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.

You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.

He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(

Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.

Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.

He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.

On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.

However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.

One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.

Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.

You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.

He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.

Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.

He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.

He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.

His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”

“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.

“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.

Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.

He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.

It’s worth it, though. The strain.

Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”

Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.

Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.

Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.

More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.

He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.

He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.

He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.

Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.

And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.

Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.

He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.

Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.

He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #yandere miguel ohara #spiderman astv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #into the spider verse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman x reader

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry. #don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it #the evil men with curly hair have won again

[nereidprinc3ss]

whiny and spoiled

in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs

You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 

You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 

“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 

“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 

“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 

“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 

“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 

“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 

“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 

He circles to the foot of the bed. 

“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 

“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 

You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 

“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 

“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 

“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  

“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 

But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 

“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 

Your eyes narrow. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  

“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 

You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 

“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 

“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 

“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  

“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 

“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 

“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 

“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 

“I like hearing you say yes.” 

You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 

“Yes, you can take them off.” 

A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  

“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 

“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 

“My attitude is your fault.” 

“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 

“Spencer,” you grit. 

He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 

“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 

And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 

“Are you just saying that?” 

Another kiss. 

“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  

The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 

“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 

He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 

Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  

His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  

“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 

“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 

“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 

“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  

Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 

“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 

He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 

You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  

“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 

“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 

A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 

The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 

“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 

“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 

“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 

“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 

You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 

“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 

“Don’t go spreading it around.” 

“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 

“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 

He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 

“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 

You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 

“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 

“Oh, do I?” 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[pholla-jm]

Comfort Me

IMAGINE: COMFORT ME ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: set during the heian period. sukuna is a bit ooc. ~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing you noticed was that the room was dark, with no source of light around you. Your heart was beating incredibly fast and you felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. 

Your previous nightmare caused fear to settle into your every bone. 

You lift your hand, noticing right away that it was shaky. Searching for the one person you wanted to get comfort from. And you knew that he would give it to you. You were his wife after all.

Your lover, Sukuna, wasn’t in the bed with you. A small whimper leaves your lips as you sit up in the bed. You couldn’t see a single thing in front of you, but you knew the layout of your bedroom from heart. 

You scuffle across your bedroom, on a mission to find your husband. If he wasn’t in bed, then he would be in his throne room. Sitting on his throne, just pondering. You didn’t ask what he thought about at times during these, but it was best not to. 

You don’t usually bother him when he’s in there, but right now you really needed him. So with a deep sigh, you push open the door to the room. He was right where you expected to see him. 

Sukuna perks up when he hears the door open, ready to slice the person who dared to enter the room without his permission. However, he stops short seeing that it was just you, his queen. 

“What are you doing up?” He asks and immediately your bottom lip starts to tremble and the urge to just curl up against his chest while his arms hold you against him. 

“I…” You look down at slippers, feeling a bit nervous to say what you wanted to. What if Sukuna ridiculed you for reacting this way to a silly nightmare. 

However, it was quite the opposite to Sukuna. In his eyes, he found you… cute. He would never say that word out loud though. His wife, standing in front of him, wearing a cute nightgown with matching slippers. Hair a bit tousled from tossing and turning, and the way your bottom lip jutted out made him want to kiss your lips. 

“Tell me, what’s wrong my queen.” 

Sukuna spreads his legs, arms uncrossing to make himself look more inviting to you. 

“I had a nightmare…” you whisper. “Speak up. I can’t hear you from over there.” 

You shuffle over to Sukuna, “I had a nightmare.” You say again, louder so he could hear you. 

A tiny smirk plays on his face. He wanted to tease you more and make you say what you wanted him to do. But he thinks you already suffered enough. 

“Come here.” He says holding his arms out for you. You didn’t have to be told twice. You walk over to him, climbing into his lap. As soon as you sit in his lap, his arms enclose around you. Pushing you right into his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, beating against your ear and the warmth of his skin immediately calms your own racing heart. 

It was silent between the two of you for a little bit. Until Sukuna gets up, adjusting you so that he could carry you like a baby. “Where are we going?” You whisper. “Back to bed. I have to protect you from the nightmares.” 

You blush at his words, but still happy that Sukuna was comforting you. 

Sukuna’s steps were smooth, and you couldn’t even tell he was walking. Soon, the both of you are in the bedroom. He gets in the bed, not once dropping you or moving you from your position. 

Now the both of you were laying down in bed. All of his arms wrapped snugly around you and it is exactly what you needed. It felt like Sukuna was protecting you from everything that would hurt you. 

It was like the world outside melted away and it was just the both of you. 

It was perfect.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #oneshot #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #jjk fluff

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

[freedomfireflies]

Teenage Dirtbag*

Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!

“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”

“27.”

“Harry, come on.”

“What?”

“I need an answer.”

“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”

Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to be studying.”

“We are.”

“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"

“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?” 

“Mm.”

“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”

“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”

“27.”

“Harry.”

He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”

He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”

“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”

“Oh, did I? Oops.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah. But you like me.”

“Not right now.”

“Yes now. Always.”

You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”

“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”

“Harry—”

“What, angel?”

You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”

“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”

“We agreed to study.”

“We are.”

“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”

“So?”

“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”

“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.

You grab the cards. “Oops.”

Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat. 

“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”

“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”

“Because I have you.”

“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”

You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

“Mm…for now.”

“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”

Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”

“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”

You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”

“What? They’re just words, baby.”

“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”

He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”

You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”

“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”

“Harry…”

“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”

You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”

“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”

You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.

You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.

His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.” 

Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”

He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it. 

The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.

However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.

Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”

“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.

“I know. But today is not that day.”

Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.

“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.

He winks.

With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.

And every trace of Harry has gone.

“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”

“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”

“Deal.”

You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.

Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present. 

You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.

Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.

But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.

You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.

He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.

And that’s when he finds you.

Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.

He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.

“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.

“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”

Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.

Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.

And the same earrings you’re wearing now.

But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”

You smirk. “You guess?”

“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”

To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.

“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”

You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”

“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”

“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.

He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.

He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before. 

Compared to them, you’re just…you.

Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.

You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.

“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”

You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.

“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”

“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”

You lean back. “You saw?”

“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”

“H…”

“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”

He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” 

You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret. 

And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.

And you’ll be devastated.

Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.

He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.

Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.

“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”

“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”

Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”

He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”

“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”

“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress. 

You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you. 

You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”

Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”

“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”

The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.

“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.

You swallow. “…yes.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”

You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”

“Mhm. Not Zack.”

“No. No, not Zack.”

He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”

Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…

You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.

He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.

He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.

“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”

“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”

And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.

You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.

And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.

His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still. 

You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”

You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”

“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”

And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside. 

You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.

But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.

“What…what did I do?” you pant.

He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”

He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”

“I…I know.”

“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”

You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”

“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”

“Oh…”

His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”

Your lips part. “You…oh.”

“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”

“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”

It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”

Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.

And that’s your favorite part.

“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”

You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants. 

He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”

You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.

You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking. 

“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”

You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”

You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body. 

You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”

Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.

The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.

And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.

But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again. 

And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.

“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”

“Mm…mhm.”

“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”

With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.

“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”

You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.

“Okay. Keep going.”

You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them. 

“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it. 

And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again. 

The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.

Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.

“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”

You only mewl. Loud and incoherent. 

He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.

His bandana.

It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.

“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”

“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”

Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.

“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”

You nod.

“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”

Your lashes flutter.

“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”

Another nod, slower.

“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”

Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.

The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth. 

Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric. 

He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more. 

And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”

You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum. 

“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”

Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.

“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”

You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.

So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.

Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling. 

He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.

He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”

He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.

You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything. 

And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either. 

“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.

You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”

“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”

“Mm…unlikely.”

“But maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Might hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”

“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”

“Tell her you’re staying.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”

“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”

The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”

His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”

He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.

Until the door opens.

And Zack walks in.

God I love fratrry 😭💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #soft dom!harry #harry and angel #fratrry #frat!harry #quarterback!harry #college!harry #nsfr

[joonberriess]

⊹₊ ⋆ “love it when he hit and smack, too, baby lemme lick on your tattoos,”

TAGS — squat-riding!oc, porn without plot, messy sex, slight degradation, dirty talkin, creampies, oc is a nasty pretty thing, she’s cute, jk is pussy-whipped here, oc rides him so good she has him MOANING out loud, blasphemy(?) idk jk is a little devious, oc as a cute coquette and jk as her hot grunge bf, mentions of cum eating

WORD COUNT — 1.9 k

Jungkook knew he was fucked the moment that soft “Jungkookie” left your lips, you were all he could think about for days.

Could anyone blame him though? Even as he sat behind you with his large hands massaging over your soft feet, he still couldn’t believe he had gotten this lucky. “You’re so quiet.” You softly hum while tossing him a look over your shoulder, “Somethin’ wrong?” You purse your glossy lips in a soft pout.

“Nothing baby.” Jungkook gently squeezed your delicate calf, “Just lost in thought I guess.” He shrugs.

You stare at him for a few moments before pausing whatever was playing on your laptop, you turn on all fours and crawl towards him, “Tell me,” you stop in front of him—knees on either side and your face inches away from his, “I wanna hear it.” You softly say while eyeing his lips and chains appreciatively.

Jungkook admires your own dangling necklace with a tiny gold cross hanging so innocently. He licks his lips and sits up, “Do you? Or are you just saying that so you can distract me,” he chuckles breathily, “greedy little thing you are. Can’t even go one second without trying something.” He squeezes your cherub cheek gently.

You playfully pout and tilt your head, “I just wanted an excuse to say I’ll make you feel better,” you gently sway your hips side to side, watching with a tiny grin as Jungkook’s eyes follow your soft round cheeks sitting so perfectly in your pink silk shorts, “unless you don’t wanna..?” You softly breathe out.

Jungkook runs his tongue over his lip as he stares back at you with hooded eyes, “Don’t wanna what, hm?” He’s fucking with you of course, he just wants to hear it come out your mouth.

“Lemme ride it,” you innocently say, “don’t you wanna make it nasty and messy until your cum’s drippin’ out?” You purr softly while leaning in to kiss his cheek and then his jawline, inching upwards towards his ear, “ ‘m so wet for you Jungkookie, feel me,” you whisper while guiding his tattooed hand towards your shorts, exhaling shakily in excitement as he dips his fingers into your panties and slots them right up against your sticky pussy lips.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, letting you latch on to his neck as you marked him up like this was the last time you were going to see him, “You little fucking minx,” he grunts, “greedy little pussy can’t go one day without a fuckin’, baby’s so desperate for cock aren’t you?” He grabs your chin and forces you to face him, “Hm?”

You nod with a tiny ‘mm-hm’, “Always want you, can’t help that you fill my pussy so good… Always leaves me drippin’ n wanting more.” You softly say against his lips while grinding against his fingers, “ ‘s not my fault you made me like this.” You bat your pretty lashes at him and purse your lips.

Jungkook curses under his breath and meanly pinches your clit, “Then get to it since you wanna act like a little bitch in heat,” he pulls his hand out and lands a hard smack across your ass. You moan softly and eagerly clamber on to his lap, he attacks your neck in a flurry of kisses while wildly sucking over your soft skin, “so fucking soft,” he mutters, “there you go baby, go ‘head and take my cock out, wanna watch you ride it like the filthy little slut you are.” He whispers low.

You tilt your head and press your lips to his, your hand makes quick work of pushing his boxers down his thighs until they sit under his balls. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cockhead leaking precum, some of it dribbles down his shaft leaving a clear trail of pearly white on his cock.

“Can I..?” You ask ever so politely while begging him with those puppy eyes and your lip between your teeth.

Jungkook swallows harshly and nods, “Go on, not gonna ride itself.” He guides you over his cock, shoving your silk shorts out of the way and yanking your panties to the side with two fingers.

You bite your lip and position your sopping cunt over the head, sliding him through the sticky mess between your soft folds. There’s low squelching as you slide his cock over your sensitive clit and down to your winking hole. A low moan slips from your lips as your pussy hugs the tip, pink rim stretching to accommodate his thick cock. Your lips part in a ‘o’ after seating yourself firmly on his lap.

Jungkook huffs under his breath and lies back all the way while watching you with hooded eyes, “Not too loud baby,” he murmurs, “nice and slow—fuck, hear that, ‘s your little pussy dripping for me.” He lazily grins while throwing his arm behind his head, watching the way you rolled your hips in slow lazy circles.

“Mm.. ‘s not enough,” you quietly whisper while placing your hands over his abdomen, “can I? Pretty please, promise I’ll make it so good for you if you’ll let me,” you moan while rolling your head back, “ride it just the way you like Jungkookie.” You smile.

Jungkook bites down on his lip and holds back a loud groan, he can’t focus with the way you ride his cock like you’re trying to spell coconut on his dick. Your pussy hugs him just right as it drags over his sensitive cock, massaging his swollen shaft with the right amount of pressure and grip.

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a muffled moan, “Fuck—yes baby, like that,” he grips your ass cheeks with both hands and moves you back and forth on his cock sensually, “feels so fuckin’ hot around me—nice n wet too.” He pants softly as massages both cheeks before smacking his hands against them.

You bite your lip—half-giggling, half-moaning—and move from his grip to bounce back on his cock a few times. Jungkook moans out and tosses his head back into the pillows, “Shit, like that—keep going.” You reach behind you to place your hands over his while you drag your pussy over his cock repeatedly, riding up to the tip before slamming back down.

Jungkook’s the one moaning and panting under his breath now, occasionally tiny little whimpers leave you but it’s nothing compared to Jungkook who looks like he’s getting the ride of his life. You slide your hips up slowly and then let your ass fall back on to his lap, your bubbly flesh rippling as they slap against his thighs. There’s a faint slick noise in the background as your pussy leaks over his fat cock, your creamy white slick dribbling down his shaft and to his balls.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out softly and pry his hands off your ass, he makes a wounded noise like it pains him to not be holding your ass. He lifts his head to look at you as if asking why, only to let out a long moan as his head slumps back, “Want you to fill me up,” you pout while placing your hands over his chest, knees knocked apart as you raised your hips, “want all of it in my pussy Jungkookie, promise I’ll clean my mess up,” your hips start moving sensually, you purposely clenched for that extra effect.

The bed rocked quietly under the weight of you two, it was accompanied by the dull thumping of your headboard knocking into the wall. To make things worse, your pussy was making these delicious little wet noises as his cock emerged with streaks of white creamy slick. He could see a white ring of slick form around the base of his shaft getting pushed back into your pussy and then coming right back down on his cock.

It was a fucking miracle your parents hadn’t come up to see what all the commotion was about. “Yeah?” He pants breathlessly, “Gonna be a good little cum dump and keep my cum warm in your sloppy little pussy?” He opens his eyes to look down at where your pussy meets his cock. You weren’t lying about making it messy..

“Mm-hm,” you moan, “promise. Not a drop ‘s gonna waste.” You huff and slam your hips down, rocking together before repeating the same thing over again. His cock hit that spot that drove you wild just right, and not wanting to lose the angle you kept fucking yourself back on him just greedily chasing the pleasure.

His eyes caught on to the dangling cross in his face, he watched it swing back and forth so innocently. Jungkook let out a poorly suppressed groan and looked up at your blissed out face in awe. You never failed to look so fucking pretty even in the throes of pleasure/sex. He’d for sure have a picture of you like this in his wallet or some shit.

“ ‘m gonna,” you quietly whine, “ ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper out while bouncing faster, “please, can I?”

Jungkook hisses as he slows you down, “Can you hold it in for me baby? ‘m so close too,” he whispers breathlessly while panting. He sees you give the tiniest of nods before he pulls you down so you’re lying over him, “Good girl,” he grits his teeth and begins plowing you from below, “good fucking girl.” He growls.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, toes curling as he pounds his cock over and over again into your (already) sore pussy. “More, more, more,” you whine out while spreading your thighs apart a bit more.

Jungkook slaps his hips upwards as quickly as he can manage, his balls slap harshly against your ass as the sounds of skin on skin fill the bedroom along with your panting and breathing moans. He buries his face in your shoulder and bites down, not hard enough to bleed but enough for it to mark. His cock throbs and spurts of cum begin flooding your messy little cunt.

He doesn’t think he’s cum this hard ever since the night you both first started having sex.

You had let Jungkook take your virginity in the back of his pick-up truck, bent over with your bruised knees knocking into eachother while he fucked you like a man possessed from behind. Your poor little pussy was so swollen from the rough treatment, the pain and pleasure ended up becoming one and all you could do was beg for more while drool slipped from the corner of your lips. At a particular thrust Jungkook sent you squealing as you stood on your tippy toes, your pretty white sneakers contrasting Jungkook’s black boots as you whimpered and tangled your legs with his.

Jungkook’s mind blanks out as he reaches down to rub furious circles on your sensitive bud, he has you squirming in his lap as you clench down tightly before a low whine of his name escapes your lips. You both slump into each other until you roll off him and on to the bed next to him, “That was–”

“I know,” he replies, swallowing harshly, “you think they heard?” He turns to look at you.

You stare back with a dreamy look in your eye, “Dunno,” you shrug cutely before rolling over to climb over him, “but I feel empty,” you softly say and guide his semi-hard cock towards your pussy, “what? Gotta keep it in somehow.” You motion to your dripping cunt, you hiss in sensitivity before laying down on him, “So what are we eating?” You tilt your head with a cheeky smile.

Jungkook laughs breathlessly, “You’re seriously thinking about food?”

“Not me, I know what I’m eating.” You lick your lips deviously, giggling when you hear Jungkook moan in protest as his cock weakly twitches.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

[mournings-stars]

adam's wings

this is the adam smut i was talking about... it was originally gonna come after a mini fic but i couldn't figure out how to end the fic so yall can have this smut

all you need to know is adam's had a massive crush on the reader (fem!reader) for like 5+ years and in the last extermination her wings get got (poor you)

I'll publish the fic eventually but enjoy this man being pathetic and a switch (also i hardly write male smut so i hope it's good :))

Life without your wings was something you were just going to have to get used to. It was awful, for the most part, and when it wasn’t it was tolerable. Instead of flying, you and Lute walked in the mornings… you had to use stairs, and you had to ask for help getting things that were too high — of course, Adam liked when you asked him to get things. It boosted his already massive ego now that you were spending more time together. 

Instead of a yearly lunch and dinner after extermination with casual work conversation in between, you had lunch once a week and found yourselves talking often. 

Like today; you weren’t expecting anyone, but Adam brought it upon himself to come to your apartment. He appeared on your balcony, knocking on the glass doors impatiently until you opened them, confused. 

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“You could sound a little happier, dude,” he scoffed as he held out a bag. “I brought you food.”

“Sorry knocking at my window freaked me out, dude.” You rolled your eyes as you took the bag. “Are we having lunch together?”

Your excited face made him frown and you quickly understood that no, you were not having lunch because he was always busy doing the job you used to help with. 

“Hey, don’t look so down, angel.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek. “If you’re still up, I’ll stop by for dinner.”

“Just wake me up—“

“No can do, sugar tits,” you rolled your eyes at the nickname. “Doc says you still need rest.”

“Ugh! Fuck the doctor!” You tossed the food on your coffee table, making him yell “hey!” “Sorry.”

“I used my piss break to get you that!”

“I said sorry! I’m sorry. Thank you for the food.” He huffed, looking at the discarded bag. “Don’t be a baby.”

“You’ve been in such a fucking mood, babe.” He brought his hands to your hips, pulling you up against him. “What happened? You were doing fine without…” His hands traveled to your lower back, then further up, making you wince. “Have you been resting?”

“Don’t baby me. I don’t need rest — I need my fucking wings back—“

“Sh, sh, sh,” he cooed, head lowering to your neck. “Watch your fucking mouth.” The cool mouth of his mask grazed your skin as his fingers traced down the line of your spine, making you inhale sharply and arch toward him. He took that opportunity to hold you tighter. “I can make you feel better, angel… Do you want me to?” His lips pressed against your neck, much more tender than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t mind having to ease in. 

“How much longer is your break?”

“Ended five minutes ago, but who gives a shit?” He laughed as his kisses on your neck became more forceful. “I’ll tell them you needed my help… that you begged me to stay… I’ll say I couldn’t fucking resist you…” He licked a stripe up your neck, making you shudder. “I just had to help… It’s the angelic thing to do—“

“Adam.”

“Yeah, baby?” He was biting down on your neck. 

“Bedroom,” was all you had to say for him to suck the darkest fucking hickey onto your skin. 

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Before you could turn away from him, he lifted you up and took you to your room, setting you on the bed before you pulled him on top of you. You got his mask off as quickly as possible, accidentally leaving the horns, but you didn't care. 

“You look kinda sexy with horns,” you said as you pulled him down and pressed your lips to his. 

“Kinda?” He laughed into the kiss.

“Mmm… Really sexy.” He groaned when your hands caressed the horns, gripping them and forcing his head at the angle you wanted. “Yeah. I could get used to this.” 

“Don’t get cocky,” he warned, eagerly pushing his hips up against yours and shoving his tongue in your mouth with so much haste you had to pull back. 

“I don’t want a quickie today—” you started, speaking against his forceful lips. 

“Yeah, sure, angel, whatever you want,” he impatiently got his mouth back on yours, hands pulling you against him harshly.

“Stay with me today… You can work from home, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come up with something. Just shut up.” But then he paused. “Home?” He asked. “With you?”

It was times like these where you remembered he’d been crushing on you for at least five years. You laughed. “Figure of speech, darling—“

“Oh, right, right.” He was quick to get his mouth back on yours. 

“But…” You tried to speak between kisses. “I wouldn’t mind — you — coming home — to me every night — like this—“

“You’re making me hard as fuck. Stop talking.” You did as he asked, but reached your hand down to grope him. Before you could, he grabbed your hand and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said quickly before bringing his mouth back to your neck to suck bruises on to. 

But you wanted to touch him, and as your half-lidded eyes looked at what you could touch, your hands reached for his golden wings. Your fingertips stroked the tops of them, feeling just how delicate they were. They were soft, fragile, and utterly beautiful. Your hands traveled down to the base of them, fingers tracing around the feathers with gentle pressure. 

Adam froze on top of you, cutting off his kisses with a strained moan as he shuddered, hips jerking and eyes fluttering. “F-ah-fuck, oh my… fuck,” he whined as you continued your gentle touches to his wings. His hands gripped you harder, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care when you had his head buried in the crook of your neck as he whined in your ear, hips thrusting up against nothing to try and get some kind of relief. “Baby… your gonna — fuck — you gotta stop — it’s — ah, fuck.” He was trying to push your hips down so he could at least grind against you as you tortured him like this, but he couldn’t pull himself together enough to get it right. 

“Shh, baby, I got you… You like that?” He sunk his teeth into your shoulder when you spoke, moaning against you. “Let me help,” you laughed, stopping momentarily to get his and your robes off. 

He couldn’t even give you foreplay if he wanted to right now. He just needed to be inside you. 

That’s exactly what you let him do. You got both your undergarments off as he lazily kissed your shoulder and reached down, guiding him between your legs. You inhaled, moaning when he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you up and making his hips twitch with how wet and ready you were for him. Your legs went around his waist as he rocked his hips and your hands went back to his back. 

As soon as you touched his wings again, his hips were snapping against yours and he was muttering incoherently, “fuck, baby.” “Needa be inside you.” “So good.” “Want you even more.” “Don’t stop.”

When you started whining in his ear as he buried himself inside you just to grind against you, massaging that soft spot just above your cervix and making your cunt tighten around him, he completely lost it. He didn’t hold back on his loud moaning, desperate licking, or harsh biting for anything. He left your neck, shoulders, and collarbones a discolored mess as his hands found your breasts and groped. He pinched your nipples, rolling and twisting harsh enough to get you arching into him, but gentle enough to make sure he didn’t hurt you. 

“You’re all mine,” he panted into your neck, kissing up to your cheek in an effort to find your lips. “No one else can have you… You can’t — ah — you can’t let anyone else touch you. I’d have to fucking kill them,” that, he said clear as day, making you moan his name. “No one’s ever gonna hurt my angel again… Never.” Finally, his mouth found yours and his rough kisses had you gasping for breath as if he’d just threatened you and not the entire world outside of this room. 

His hips didn’t stop, but the more you felt up his wings, the sloppier he got. “Fuck,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Need more of you.” He brought one hand by your head, pushing himself up and getting your dangerously pleasuring hands away from his wings as his other hand went between you and pulled your hips up. He pulled his hips back before thrusting into you, making your eyes roll back as you turned to the side to bury your face in your pillow. “There it is.” He held you in place, hitting that same spot with each thrust and making you tighten around him. “That's it… That's my girl.” 

You fisted the sheets, moaning loudly into your pillow. Adam grabbed you by the neck, using his fingers to turn your head toward him. “Let me hear you,” he said, voice still whiny from the way you were touching him and making your stomach flutter. “You’ve been feeling me up this whole fucking time, it’s time for my reward, yeah?” You nodded, never breaking eye contact, and he smiled. “Good fucking girl.”

His hand went down to your hips, resting on your lower stomach and pressing down to make you groan. His thumb moved to your clit, pressing down to feel you pulse against him. He laughed. “I knew you fucking needed me. Little attitude’s all fucking gone now, huh?” He circled his thumb, thrusting into you at the same excruciatingly slow pace. “Thought you’d have me like this, didn’t you, angel? All fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck you—“ You whined, trying to sound mad and failing — how he’d completely flipped the situation was beyond you, but you didn’t care when you felt like this. Of course, that wouldn’t stop you from running your mouth. (Or getting him back later).

“Shut up and take it, bitch— oh! Shit, that was kinda mean. Fuck, sorry babe.” He leaned down, kissing you quick and making you laugh as your hands reached up to his face to keep kissing him. “I didn’t mean that.” But when you kept laughing, he quickly told you to, “shut up,” again, then, “you sound really fucking pretty, so don’t actually.”

“Adam,” you warned, hand reaching down toward his wings. “You’re the one that needs to shut up—“

“No fucking way.” He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, picking his pace back up and making the bed knock against the wall with how rough he was being. “You and your pretty little hands are dangerous, angel… Gotta put you back in your place.” He brought his hand to the back of your thigh, pushing it up by your side to get even deeper. 

That and so he could watch your cunt taking him. His gaze alone made your legs shake, your moaning picking back up. He got the hint, pushing himself deeper and grinding against you until you were so tight around him that he could hardly move.

But he did anyway, fucking into you harder and faster as his hands held your squirming hips still. He moaned at the way you tightened around him, your hands pushing at his hips to get him to stop overstimulating you as you came, but that did nothing but turn him on as you moaned his name like a fucking prayer, back arching and hips writhing on the sheets as your hands settled to grip his wrists and your eyes shut in pure bliss. 

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he mocked your words from earlier, making your eyes screw shut as you tightened around him again. That made him shudder, his hips twitching as he thrusted sharply, his orgasm filling you up and dripping out of you as his eyes shut and hands moved to grip yours, pinning them to the bed. 

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum spill out of you with a cocky smile. “Fuck, you look good like this,” he said, hands squeezing yours. “How’s it feel having the—“

“If you say anything about your ‘first dick,’ I’ll kill you,” you said breathlessly, cutting him off before he could start and making him roll his eyes. “But… it feels really fucking good—“ “That’s my fucking girl!”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #adam smut #hazbin smut #hazbin blurb #hazbin imagine #hazbin drabble

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .

cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)

“Simon, I’m home!”

You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.

“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”

You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.

“Stop.”

He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.

Oh no, you’re so fucked up.

“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”

Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.

“Don’t move.”

He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.

“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.

“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”

Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.

“Where do you get this?”

“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.

You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.

“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.

“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.

“You think there’s other options?”

“... No.”

“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.

“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”

Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.

His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.

He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.

“Told you to close your eyes, love.”

You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.

“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”

“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.

When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.

You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.

He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.

“It’ll hurt a bit.”

He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.

“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”

He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.

Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.

“Thank you, Si.”

You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.

“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.

“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.

“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.

He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.

“Anything you want now, princess?”

“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”

“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”

Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.

“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”

“Are there other options?”

“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.

Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.

“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.

#cod imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader

[k9wa]

⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.

⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….

from this request !

it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 

and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  

boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.

you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 

“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”

you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.

“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.

“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”

he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 

you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.

now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 

“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 

he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”

fine, you thought. two can play that game.

you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.

you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 

then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.

his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.

you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.

boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.

“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.

“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.

“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 

“all done.”

all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.

“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”

boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 

“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#‘kawa he doesn’t chew—‘ REALITY IS WHAT I MAKE IT. #plus its funny #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x you #boothill headcanons #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr headcanons #UNEARTHLY