#eb's mumblings

[suzakushimon]

me only opening fgo at the beginning of the month to buy the 5 summon tickets and then leave....

#my mumbles #after lb6 my interest has ebbed again... gotta wait until the next main story.....

[mystra-midnight]

Holy Roar

summary: eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. he listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.

tags: 18+ only. unprotected sex; p in v. praise kink. pet names; good girl, sweet girl, baby. overstimulation. mentions of squirting if you squint. teeth-rotting fluff. eddie being a simp for his girl. soft!eddie but also hints of mean/dom!eddie.

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: eddie might not be religious but he's pretty sure heaven is between your thighs. requested by anon, thank you so much. <3 i needed a reason to be sappy and sweet today after all the drama going on. also, for the record. this was meant to be a drabble but evidently i have no self control.

Eddie Munson wasn't religious, but he did believe in heaven.

He'd swear up and down that he'd seen heaven, and no one had been able to convince him otherwise. The truth was, when he was buried in the tight warmth of your pussy with your arms wrapped around him, he could hear the sound of angels singing. It was a beautiful melody, a crescendo that rang in his ears and brought him to tears.

When he was with you, wrapped in the velvet embrace of your walls, his face hidden against the slope of your neck, the world would melt away. Nothing else mattered in those moments. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t a freak; he was just Eddie, and you were just you, and when he moved in you, the holy dark moved too.

And when you came, trembling and twitching beneath him, with pretty moans and whimpers pouring from your kiss-bitten lips, it was like he was born again. When he watched your features twist with rapture, he saw the world through brand new eyes—eyes that were filled with the vision of only you, an angel come to life beneath him, your holy light shining so brightly that he wasn’t sure you were real.

He often had to remind himself that you were.

Sometimes Eddie had to pinch himself just to convince himself that you weren't a beautiful, haunting illusion about to slip through his fingers. It was why he touched you with greedy hands at every opportunity. He touched you because he could, gripping the fat of your thighs, the curve of your hips, the pudge of your stomach, your tits, your cheeks, and your hands.

He was never cruel. Firm, yes; mocking, sometimes, but he could never hurt you. Eddie would hold you with strong hands that never stilled unless he was pounding into you, forcing unholy moans from your pretty mouth.

And unless he was kissing you, his tongue in your mouth, twirling and dancing with yours, he couldn’t stay silent. Eddie loved to whisper sweet nothings in between searing kisses. He would growl in your ear while carving his way to your guts. He would babble mindlessly as he chased his orgasm, fucking you through one, then a second, and then a third.

Some nights he was wild and untamed, whereas others he was kind and gentle.

No matter what, it was always a religious experience.

And tonight was no different.

Eddie had you on your back with your hands pinned above your head; he was holding both of your wrists in one of his larger hands. Your legs were around his waist, and the heels of your feet were pressing into his backside to draw him deeper as he rolled his hips and found that sweet spot that made you sing. Tears ebbed at your lash line, and he chased each one that fell with an eager tongue.

It was a cool evening in Hawkins, Indiana. Sometime past ten, a light rain had settled over the town. Eddie could hear the pitter-patter of droplets as they hit the roof of the caravan, the slide as they cascaded down the awnings, and the splatter as they hit the ground. The window was open, and a cool breeze was playing with the curtains, leaving his sweat-slicked skin goosepimpled.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured. His voice was rough and heavy with lust. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he continued, mumbling the words against the slope of your neck, where he scrapped his teeth over your racing pulse. You arched beneath him when he dragged a ringed hand down your body, cruising from your throat to your chest, where he paused to brush a thumb over your peddled nipple before tugging on it a little meanly.

He listened to the way your breath hitched and the needy moan that tumbled past your lips when he moved his hand lower to the apex of your thighs. Eddie Munson was a simple man who loved you in this state—cock-drunk and floating in the clouds.

He loved to watch you come undone for him. He loved the way your back would arch, the way your muscles would tighten and flex, how you pulled him in and pushed him away when the pleasure mounted, and the way you couldn’t seem to get enough air while riding each orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of you; he was addicted to you.

“Bet you’re sensitive, baby.” Eddie said, gliding his pointer and ring finger on either side of your clit, which was still buzzing from the last orgasm he’d pulled from the depths of your soul. He felt you twitch beneath him, heard the sharp intake of breath, and heard the muffled whine that escaped your pretty mouth. “But look at you—still s’fucking wet. You’ve soaked the sheets, girl. But you're gonna cum again, aren’t you? Good, I need to hear those pretty sounds.”

He posed it as a question, but he wasn’t asking. Eddie took advantage of your delirious state, licking a long, wet strip up the column of your throat and moaned deeply as he savoured the sweat-slicked taste of your skin. Eddie didn't care that you were sweaty, that you were dishevelled, or that you were making a mess of his sheets. He cared that you were here and that you were beneath him.

He watched your face as he rolled his hips, his cock piercing through your velvet walls and his balls slapping against your ass as he drove deeper. Your lips parted in a perfect 'o', and you squirmed, straining to close your legs only to find his slim waist holding them open as a familiar heat sparked to life between your hips.

“I can’t.”

He said the words with you, as he already knew that you would say them. Eddie Munson was a menace that ruled your life, and you were a marionette on a string, so sweet and eager to please him. He could play you like a fiddle. He knew what words built you up and which ones sent you tumbling down again. As though to prove this, he circled his fingers around your clit, slick with arousal, left, then right, then spread them again, trapping your clit between his fingers with just a hint of pressure.

You keened loudly, throwing your head back and exposing your throat—an invitation that he quickly accepted. Eddie smeared hot, wet kisses along your skin, listening to the whimpers and whines that spilt from your lips as he rubbed your nub, enjoying the way you tugged at your wrists and writhed beneath him. “S’too much, Eddie. Eddie, please, please.”

You sounded so pretty when you begged; your voice was breathless and ethereal as you begged for something you couldn't decide on. Mercy or more—you didn't know.

But he did.

"You can," he replied. Eddie buried his face against your neck, his hot breath balmy against your skin, as he nuzzled his nose below the curve of your jaw before sucking a dark mark into your skin. "Just one more, I promise, baby, then I'll let you rest." It was the devil's lie, one that came easily from his tongue.

Eddie Munson was an addict, and you were his drug of choice. In truth, he knew that he would be going to hell, so he was going to enjoy heaven while he could. He kissed you without warning. Hard, slowly, thoroughly, just because he could. It made you moan and made your toes curl.

“Need you to cum again—fuck—just one more, that’s all I want."

“Mhmm, okay,” you whimpered, high-pitched and breathless, as he moved his fingers in tight circles around your nub, switching direction once, then twice. And then he moved. Eddie sat back on his haunches, threw your legs over his shoulders, and pulled you closer so that he could drive deeper, until you felt him in your lungs.

Your obedience and willingness made him smile. Eddie licked your calf, his teeth scraping teasingly at your ankle. Your pussy clenched hotly around his aching length. "You're such a good girl, aren’t you? S’fucking pretty, s’fucking sweet. Fuck, I love you,” he rambled, lost in the moment. The taste of you swimming in his mouth and the sight of you flooding his eyes were too much for him to bear.

You were beautiful; an angel trapped it in a rhapsody of pleasure—all his. Eddie pulled out slowly, your velvet heat clutching at his cock. He watched with wide and wondrous eyes as your hole clenched and winked at him, but it was the combination of pre-cum and slick dripping from you—the way it slid down the crack of your ass and joined the mess you'd made of the sheets—that broke his resolve.

The groan that clawed up the back of his throat was something feral and all-consuming, calling to something buried inside of you. Your answering whine was desperate. Eddie grabbed your jaw, his thumb dragging over your lower lip, so that he could watch the blissed expression in your eyes as he filled you again, hard and to the brim. "Look at you, girl, so cum-drunk that you're leaking on my cock. My pretty, perfect girl."

Time began to slow down. Heat slithered like a snake through your veins, slow to start as it set your body aflame, and then faster, striking with venom and fangs until your eyes rolled so far back that Eddie was sure you'd see your own brain. You were in a trance, and it was no one but Eddie’s fault.

You couldn’t answer him, even if you had wanted to. Each time he fucked into you, his cock spearing through your walls and reaching the depths of your being, the air was forced from your lungs, leaving you breathless and floating higher in the sky. He left a trail of wet kisses along your ankle, lapping at each bite with an eager tongue while he found your mound with the opposite hand, thumb swiping left and right, then, round and round, your clit.

The piston of his hips didn’t slow when you pushed against his abdomen, nails scratching the surface of his skin as though you wanted to burrow beneath it and live there. Eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. He listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.

“Too much, Eddie,” you gasped, all breathless and sweet. Eddie smiled down at you, a beautiful lopsided grin that had the snake in your veins pulling tighter. It was so tight now that you thought you might die—that your bones would break and your heart would give. But the look in your eyes—that sly come-hither stare—told him you needed that release almost as much as you needed to breathe.

"You're going to be a good girl and cum for me, yeah? You're squeezing my dick so tight, baby, you're going to fucking break it.” Eddie chortled. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripped from his nose, and landed on your chest as he bent to brush his mouth against yours. Your legs fell from his shoulders, knees coming to rest in the crook's of his arms as he shadowed over you like a perfect machiavellian devil.

His lips smashed against yours in a kiss made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. It was messy, sloppy, and desperate, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when you finally parted. Eddie was lost, chasing his own release that was hurtling towards him like a semi with its brakes cut.

And then it happened, all at once and without warning.

One moment you grabbed at him, clawing at his back and pulling on his hair, and then you were breathless, your limbs locked and your head thrown back. It was like the sky split open and a bolt of lightning speared through you, connecting with that sweet spot Eddie was abusing, only to arch throughout your body. You came screaming his name, and it was the sound of heaven, and he rejoiced.

"You're so good to me, sweet girl," Eddie said. His lips left a trail of blistering kisses from your chin, down your jaw, and to your neck, where he hid his face against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath was wild and balmy as he panted against your skin. His muscles twisted and knotted as the force of his impending orgasm grew. "I'm going—fuck—I'm going to marry you. I'm going to put a ring on your finger and buy you a fucking house."

And he meant it. If there was one thing on God's green earth that Eddie Munson was completely and irrevocably certain about, it was you. He was going to make you his wife. He was going to give you his name. He was going to give you his kids.

He felt you grab him again, your nails reclaiming their position on his shoulders as the world started to fade into background ambience. A haze overcame his vision, glowing orange from the fire raging within him. And then the tension in his body broke, ricocheting through him with the force of a hurricane.

Eddie speared through your walls one last time before settling deep within you, so deep that you could feel him pressing against the back of your throat. His weight above you was like a weighted blanket that is smothering but comfortable. It kept you grounded while you ride the coattails of your orgasm. Eddie came with a guttural groan, his abdominal muscles flexing as he filled you with thick ropes of his seed.

Seconds slid into minutes before he withdrew and collapsed to the bed at your side. The sheets were a mess at the foot of the bed, and the sound of the rain was louder now. The room smelled like sweat, sex, and fresh rain. You were both quiet as you floated through the clouds, content to lay side-by-side and let the silence bloom. There was nothing either of you had to say—the moment was already perfect because, while Eddie Munson wasn't religious, he did believe in heaven.

And with you, he felt born again.

tags: @hideoutside

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you

[deadsetobsessions]

I would love to read more of your desecrated Grave AU if that isn't to much trouble?

Tbh, it was supposed to be a one time thing but I can give it another go :))

——

Zatanna's dealt with everything from demons to gods, eldritch horrors to cute little puppies. It says a lot, in her opinion, that the GIW managed to invoke such a response of recoiling horror in her.

The magician took in the blood and ectoplasm splattered walls, the writhing reanimated organism that came from exposure to said ectoplasm, and most damningly, the stacks of cracked and broken headstones piled in the corner of the room.

"Peek ruoy part tuhs!" she snarled, hands thrown out at the whimpering and beaten GIW agents. Her magic activated and sealed their voice boxes shut.

In the sudden silence, Zatanna walked to the stacked gravestones. She placed a hand upon the top most one and uttered a heart-broken apology, wondering how many ghosts perished.

"I'll bring you back to Phantom," she promised them. "Eb derots."

The gravestones vanished into her storage space, ready to be taken out when she willed them to be.

"Zatanna, everything finished?" Black Canary walked in, casting a disdainful glance at the agents. "You okay?"

"I can feel... there was much suffering here. They were supposed to be- dying was supposed to grant them peace. Not. Not this."

"We'll make sure it never happens again. The GIW is getting disbanded as we speak."

Their comms buzzed.

"Zatanna, the U.N. is requesting the presence of the ghost king in order to make amends." Batman said.

"Tell them he's going to be busy grieving the massacre of his people, committed by a branch of their government. We'll be damn lucky if he doesn't start a war over this, Batman. He'd be well within his rights to. It's bad."

"I'll hold them off."

"We're wrapping up on our end."

"Copy."

Zatanna turned to the scientists and agents and intoned "Eb devom edistuo!"

"C'mon Zee, let's go." Black Canary made sure she was out of the way before screaming, unleashing a wave of sound that shattered and crumbled the glass and walls of the facility.

"Fuck the government." Zatanna mumbled. How was she supposed to tell Phantom about the gravestones?

----

Phantom floated, the lost look on the young boy's face pulling at their hearts as his hands hovered above the broken gravestones, not daring to touch them.

"So many..." he whispered. Zatanna could do nothing but offer a nod, jaw clenched and eyes burning with fury and grief.

Phantom looked up at her. "Thank you, Zatanna, for bringing them back to us."

"It was the least we could do." Zatanna replied, and something about her voice must have resonated with Phantom because his apathetic façade broke and suddenly, Zatanna had an armful of a grieving, wailing ghost child. Her magic shielded her, but the glass began breaking at his ghostly wail. Still, Zatanna could tell he was holding back in attempt to not kill them all via the vacuum of space.

"Dleihs eht rewothctaw!" She quickly chanted. "Go ahead, you won't hurt us. I've shielded the place."

The glass stopped cracking and Phantom, no longer worried about killing her, screamed against her shoulder.

"Why?! WHAT CRIMES DID WE COMMIT BY DYING?! IT WASN'T ENOUGH TO SUFFER WHEN WE DIED?! WHY?!"

----

#danny phantom #dcxdp #zatanna #black canary #batman #the justice league #the giw #implications that the giw murdered a bunch of ghosts

[ssweetleaf]

stevie w daddy kink and humiliation <33

includes: SMUT 18+, daddy kink, humiliation, face slapping

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Come on, hon,” Steve cooed, mocking the pout that graced your lips, exaggerative and condescending, swiping the head of his cock up and down the length of your slit. “You gonna speak up and tell me what you want?”

Your cheeks burned furiously, and you snapped your head to the side with a short humph, far too embarrassed to utter the filthy things you wanted from him.

He chuckled, grazing his knuckles against the swell of your cheek before patting it roughly with his palm, the sting making a little squeal erupt from your throat.

“You tryin’ to pretend you’re all innocent, huh? Just think I’ll give it to ya without you telling me what y’want?” He fisted his flushed cock, slapping it crudely against your clit, earning a strained whimper, your hips shifting, mindlessly searching for more of him. “You ain’t a prude, honey, stop tryna act like one.”

You stared up at him with big, glassy eyes, hoping the tears that ebbed over your waterline would have him be softer with you, be more lenient— give you what you wanted.

But of course it didn’t, instead he squeezed your puffy cheeks between his fingers, shaking your head from side to side.

“Come on, honey, I haven’t got all day, Daddy’s a busy man, you know that.” He huffed, really though he did have all day, he’d wait there till the end of time with you just waiting for you to tell him what you needed.

“S’embarrasing, Daddy” you mumbled, shrieking when he slapped your cheek with a strong palm.

“Wanna be sweet on ya, hon, just need you to stop being a stupid girl and use your words.”

#steve harrington smut #Steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington headcanon #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader

[yesimwriting]

pleaseee write smth about that fight between Felix and reader

a/n i've been thinking about this scene for days so when i saw this ask i got so hyped

warnings: reader being AFAB/female is plot relevant (reader's father has always wanted a son), implied emotional/financial parental abuse (not described in too much detail), potentially inaccurate portrayal of early-ish 2000's phones bc i was a toddler during their oxford era, hurt/comfort

we're getting into reader's background!!

itallic texts = from felix, bold texts = from reader

There's a scratch embedded into the dark mahogany. It's small, no wider than something you could make with your finger nail.

"How's your food?"

Your attention shifts towards the ceramic plate that's almost covering the dining table's only blemish. "It's good," you mumble with a slight nod, fork instinctually jabbing at a piece of food without you even looking at it. "Yours?"

"Great," he hums casually, cutting into his steak. "Part of the reason I picked this hotel is because of the restaurant. The visiting chef's a guy that I met in New York when he was looking into financing an international expansion of his franchise."

You bring your utensil to your lips. "That's cool, daddy."

The comment only strengthens the question that's been silently ebbing at your mind since your father first suggested lunch. Why did he order room service instead of taking you to the hotel's restaurant? Your dad has always loved the ambiance, the leisure of sitting in a nice restaurant.

"Is that why you're in town?" You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "To finalize something with the chef?"

He sets down his knife. "That and a few other business arrangements that needed to be checked on." He pauses, shoulders relaxing. "And to see you, too, Ace. It feels like it's been awhile since we talked."

Your lips quirk into what's almost a smile. When your father called to let you know that he'd be staying near Oxford for work and that he wanted you to visit, you had been apprehensive at first. Your mother was cautiously supportive of the idea.

Things with your father have been relatively stable recently. He liked the way no university seemed off limits to you with your grades and extracurriculars. He loved the idea of a daughter studying abroad at Oxford (which, is part of the reason you seriously considered Princeton for some time). And he's been drinking less. Part of that whole reborn, second marriage to a late-20-something methodist thing.

"Yeah, dad," you agree, as sincerely as you can manage, "It's been awhile."

"You know I'm friends with one of your deans." He doesn't give you a chance to reply. "We had coffee together, and he told me you're on track to finish in the top 10%." Rumors about the top percentages had been circling around Oxford for the past month. Still, it's relieving to know. "Congratulations, Ace."

This time, your smile meets your eyes. "Thanks."

He smiles, a flash of something practiced and charming. "When I get home, the first thing I'm doing is picking out a gift to send to you."

"If you need time, you can always wait and give it to me over the summer."

The infamous summer. Your mother is going to be spending most of the summer volunteering for an organization that brings counseling to children that have survived traumatic experiences but can't affording therapy. Your father suggested that you stay with him for a little while so that you wouldn't have to spend an entire two months in an empty house.

He stretches an arm like he wants to pick up his fork, but decides against it. "I--I want to tell you something." His tone is softer now, almost hesitant. "But you have to promise not to cry."

You try to swallow around the lump in your throat, body familiar with the command. "Okay?"

"I don't know if this summer's going to work out the way we talked about." He taps his fingers against the surface of the table. Your eyes lock on the scratch marring the wood. "Things have gotten complicated."

"Complicated?"

Your father sighs. "I'm sure you've noticed Christine's not here." You can't bring yourself to react at the mention of your step-mother's name. "She isn't in--she isn't in the best condition to travel." The tapping continues. "Christine's pregnant. She's due in early June, and she isn't having an easy time. I think it'd be best to not do anything that could potentially be stressful."

Oh.

"It's a boy."

Oh. A boy. With his perfect wife, in his perfect penthouse on the Upper East Side. Of course. Of fucking course.

You can't breathe right or thing of the way you're supposed to react. All you can do is stare at the scratch. At the only thing that indicates that anything bad has ever happened to the table.

"You promised you wouldn't cry." The words feel far. "You look too much like your mother when you cry."

That seems to force you back to earth. Any and all reminders of your mother must be eradicated in his presence. "I know. I'm not going to cry." You blink once, hand moving to wipe away tears you refuse to let spill. "Congratulations."

He's quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, before finally settling on a perfunctory, "Thank you." After a beat of silence, he continues, "Were you planning on staying tonight? I was thinking of flying back early, but I can--"

"Oh, no," you shake your head once, "I actually have a lot of homework, so it's probably better for me to get back."

Your father nods, "Always the academic, Ace." He pushes his seat back. "If you're done eating, I can walk you to the lobby and have my driver take you back."

"Yeah," you push back your own seat and stand, "Sounds good."

The two of you reach the front doors of the suite. "Hey," your father starts, "Why don't you travel this summer? That's all I did during college breaks. I'll pay so you can do it up right. You should go somewhere with a friend. Paris, maybe. You two always had fun as kids."

You nod once, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, daddy, I'll ask Paris about what she's doing this summer."

"Good." He pauses at the door, reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out his wallet and counts out a few bills. "Here. A pre-gift." You hesitate. "C'mon, top 10%."

Your mother's voice rings in your ears. He won't change, you might as well take the money. You stretch out a hand, forcing a smile as you take the cash. "Thanks."

----

Stupid. You're so fucking stupid.

You really thought you'd be there all weekend. You really thought Christine would let you into her home for longer than a day or two.

And the pregnancy thing? That--that's going to get back to your mom in one way or another if you don't tell her. And hearing that, hearing that your dad's finally getting his son is going to kill her.

It's all you've been thinking about since you got back yesterday afternoon. After mumbling a halfhearted explanation to your roommate, you changed into some pajama shorts and a giant T-shirt that you only realized was Felix's after the fact and crawled into bed. You've moved as little as possible since.

Something near the foot of your bed buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You flip the phone open, immediately noticing three text notifications. From Felix.

hope ur weekend's going better than mine

lovie

i feel abandoned

Despite your angst, you smile to yourself before sending a response: it's been one day.

After a minute, there's another text on your screen: so it's a crime to miss u. You roll your eyes, fondness pooling in your stomach. how are u doing.

The second question, though sincere, forces you to spiral. You want to be honest. You don't lie to Felix and he doesn't lie to you.

But, everything comes with exceptions, and making sure no one finds out how tense things actually are with your dad is yours. Before you two got close, it felt too private, and once you finally did, a few comments from Felix's friends made you feel like the worst thing you could do for your friendship was let him see any kind of darkness.

It's not that he'd judge you, he'd just want to help you so badly that it'd take over everything else. Farleigh's made it clear that Felix loves a charity case. And you don't want to be that. You won't let your dad take that from you, either.

You want to say that you're fine, maybe text a comment about things being a little awkward because it's no secret that your mom took care of you after the divorce. But lying about being on campus feels like something that could easily morph into something else.

Felix, who actually has enough of a social life to pull sleazy moves like that never has. i'm sick. came home early.

ur back!

why didn't u tell me

i'm sick, can't hang out

are u ok

do u need anything

Guilt prods at you. You've been texting him on and off since yesterday and never mentioned that you came back early. Felix is always so good to you. But, you're in no place to see him. no just need rest

You shut your phone. You're not sure that saying you're sick is enough to keep Felix away all weekend, but it could be enough to keep him away tonight. It's Saturday night. He'll have plans.

And tomorrow, you'll feel better. More stable.

"I have some time before I'm supposed to go to Jake's. I stole some bread from the dining hall." Nadia's offer is gentle. "Do you want to go feed the ducks?"

You wipe at your face. "That's a really nice offer, Nadia, but I'm feeling a little sick. Maybe when you get back?"

She frowns. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, "I just need some sleep."

"You've been sleeping on and off since yesterday afternoon." Nadia hesitates, eyes darting towards the bathroom. She does need to start getting ready for her date. "Maybe you can call Felix later? It's Saturday night, you know there's some terribly exclusive, not meant for any of us ordinaries party he's dying to take you to."

The attempt at humor is enough to get you to roll onto your side. "Since when do you like Felix?"

To be fair, Nadia's never disliked Felix. Before you became friends with him, she had a bit of a crush on him in that way that all freshmen girls at Oxford do. After you started hanging out with him all the time, that crush turned into an awareness that fueled her worry. She's always implied her concern that he'd eventually hurt you.

"I've never not liked him," she mumbles, "I was just scared he'd break your heart, but, the last couple of times he's come over...something about the way he looks at you."

"So you finally accepted we're just friends?"

She walks towards the bathroom, "Didn't say that."

You roll your eyes, letting yourself rest on your back. You shut your eyes, trying to force out any thoughts of the outside world as you drift off.

The familiar creek of the hinges of your room's door pulls you back to reality slowly.

"Took you long enough." Nadia's voice. "All she does is sleep and mope. She didn't even want to go feed the ducks today."

"She loves feeding the ducks." Another familiar, much more moving voice. You manage to move, wiping at your eyes as you sit up.

"I know!"

You finally sit up, blinking your eyes as your vision adjusts. Felix. He's standing in near the foot of your bed. "Felix--I-I told you I'm fine. Just a little sick."

"Nadia called and told me the opposite."

You turn your head to glare at you roommate, who doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "You stole my phone and called him?"

"I had to," she defends. "All you do is sleep and cry, and you've been like this since you came back yesterday."

Felix's expression drops as soon as the final word comes out. Your eyes widen, head shaking as subtly as possible as if a too late warning will erase the sentence from existence.

"Wait," his voice is softer than you've ever heard it, "You've been back since yesterday and you didn't tell me?"

You swallow, unable to look away from Felix.

"I--I have to go." Nadia's announcement breaks through the stiff silence. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so um..." She turns away, swinging an overnight bag over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. You can't blame her for running out as soon as possible.

"Felix," your voice is low, gravely, "Darling."

"Don't." His eyebrows pinch together, sadness tinging his expression. It doesn't fit him. "Why--why wouldn't you tell me you were here?"

You sit up a little straighter, wiping at your eyes with the back of your palm. "I told you I'm sick. I'm not up for anything right now."

Felix is still watching you with that kicked puppy look. "That doesn't--" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "You know I don't care if you don't want to do anything. We can--we can just sit or-or talk, or read or--do nothing." Felix presses his lips together, "I thought you knew that."

You know he's right, and that makes it harder to look at him. Felix would have been a sweetheart about it. He would have let you mope, cry even, and he would've spent the entire time holding you. It should have been easy to tell Felix, instinctual...and yet...

Your eyes briefly shut. "I do." The admission's painful to get out. Some of your hesitation was over the way Felix reacts to tragedy, but the rest is something more personal. Telling Felix would have solidified it. Would have made that label of 'abandoned child' that you've always been so wary about permanent. "It's more than that."

"Then what is it?"

Sighing, you push yourself to the edge of your bed. "My head hurts, I need a Tylenol."

Your words and movements are drowsy as you push yourself to stand. Felix takes a partial step forward before forcing himself to freeze into place. It's hard not to help you.

"Then what is it?"

You push open the bathroom door. "I don't--I don't know." It's a weak attempt at dismissing the conversation before things go to a place that you can't handle right now. "I couldn't get the words out." Still can't.

You find the pill bottle you were looking for on the bathroom counter and start working at twisting off the childproof cap. "We tell each other everything eventually." His voice is dry, almost hesitant. "At least, I do. We trust each other."

Your eyes shut as you sigh, fingers briefly releasing the top of the bottle. "Maybe that's not trust. Maybe that's your life being so perfect there's nothing you need to keep secret."

The words come out in a rush, angry and sharp. Regret floods through you instantly. "I'm sorry."

"No." The syllable is hard. "No. You're not. Don't do that. Don't--don't start saying what you think I need to hear--or keeping in what you think I don't." There's a concerned anger there, an unfitting combination that you don't have the energy to decode. "What could be so bad you can't tell me? We know about Ollie's parents and that didn't change anything, did it?"

Actually, things did change a little. Oliver's broken home life seemed to only make Felix want to pull Oliver into his world even more. You hate thinking it, because it's insensitive and a little mean, but of course Oliver was willing to give Felix all the gritty details.

After the initial implications came out, Felix devoured them with the same silver spoon that was placed in his mouth at birth. In a way, Felix's desire to fix and ease pain brought them closer together. And it probably means more to Oliver coming from Felix than anyone else.

But your relationship with Felix is different. You don't want sadness and coddling to be what makes you feel certain in your bond with Felix. You want things to stay the same. You don't want to give your dad anyway to change one of the most important connections in your life.

"You have a big heart, Felix, and I love that about you." Your hand reaches for the Tylenol again. "But I don't want you helping me to become all that I am to you. I don't want to be a charity case." You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing at your wording. "And--and I'm not trying to say that Ollie's just a charity case, it's that--some stuff Farleigh's said and--" Tears are pricking the edge of your vision.

"You're more than that," he scoffs the words out like it's ridiculous he even has to say that, "Of course you're more than that, I thought you knew." He scoffs. "I--I don't just wait around for people."

You scoff, the sound almost a bitter laugh. "Oh--so now it's not about trust, it's about your ego. That I don't just sit around next to my phone, waiting for the Felix Catton to call me."

Felix takes a step forward, "It's not about that!" You raise your eyebrows, uncertainty leaving you frozen. Felix has never yelled at you before. "...It's not about that," he repeats, voice a more acceptable volume. He takes another step forward, his fingers finding your forearm. "You know how I meant it."

There's a tension in the way he's touching your arm. It's nothing harsh, if anything it's almost too soft. Hesitant. He's watching you with an intensity that pins you into place more than his actual hold.

You wouldn't be surprised by his anger, you're not even sure you'd be able to blame him for it, but that's not what you see when you look at him. You can't exactly read the look behind his eyes, but something about it reminds you of Nadia's earlier comment.

It's heavy. Too heavy for you to think about tonight. That's how Felix is. He's intense. All consuming. When all you do is blink at him, he lets go of your arm.

"Felix."

His eyes dart towards the ground, body angling itself away from you.

It's subtle, and not a direct dismissal, but after everything that's already happened, it's enough to serve as a final nail hammered into your chest. "I don't want things to change between us." You sigh, finally getting the pill bottle's lid to pop off. "Because I'm fine."

You force a smile, but there's a tightness to your features that makes it feel like a grimace. "It's not a big deal. So my dad asked me not to come home this summer, because his wife's pregnant and he doesn't want to 'stress her out'. I'm fine." You can feel the tears welling in your eyes. "Y'know it's a b-oy." Your voice cracks on the last word, a laugh or maybe a sob interrupting the single syllable. "So um...good for him, he's finally getting his son."

Felix is watching you cautiously, expression not quite sympathetic, but not relaxed either. "Oh my god, I have to tell my mom. And it--it's going to kill her." You gasp the words like the realization's just hit you, even though it's been on your mind since the beginning. "I don't know why I said that like I'm surprised--because I--" You laugh, the sound shrill and uneasy, "But it's whatever. I'm fine."

You nod once, as if that'll be enough to make you feel fine. Another sound comes out, this one a lot closer to a whimper. "I'm fine. I don't know why I'm being so dramatic. I'm fine. I'm--" You squeeze your arms around your waist, supporting yourself the way Felix usually would.

You're crying openly now, tears blinding you. This is pathetic. You need to get it together.

You're pulled forward with no warning, your body hitting something solid and warm. Felix.

His arms around you, firm and supportive. It's surprising enough to force a full breath of air into your lungs. For a moment, all there is Felix. You inhale again, and again, doing your best to hold the air in your lungs.

Felix's hand smooths circles against your back. He whispers soothing words that you can barely make out. Between that and the even rhythm of his heart, you manage to ground yourself.

"You don't have to be nice to me right now," you mumble into his shirt. "I was really mean to you."

He continues to trace patterns against your spine. "We don't have to talk about that right now."

"I know," you whisper, "I just--I don't want you to feel like you can't be mad at me."

He gently smooths your hair away from your face. "Can I be mad from right here?"

"Yeah." You sniffle once, letting your chin press into his chest so that you can look up at him. "If you want to."

"Then okay," he mumbles, knuckles running up and down the length of your spine, "I'll be mad from right here."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

#bestfriend!felix x reader #bestfriend!felix #saltburn x reader #felix catton #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

One Big Family

Team Free Will 2.0 & Winchester little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

It was impossible, crazy, ridiculous.

But it was also happening. After over twelve years, the Winchesters finally got to see their father again.

It wasn’t what Dean had meant to wish for, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, especially not now, with what was happening in front of him.

You, his twelve year old little sister, were basically meeting your father for the first time. You were mere months old when he died, so you knew him from pictures only.

After everything had been explained to John, his first request had been to re-meet you. Sam had gone to your room to explain what was going on, and when he returned Dean and John watched as you shuffled along behind Sam, his jacket gripped in your small fists as you hid behind him.

“That’s her?” John breathed, and Dean turned in surprise to see tears welling up in John’s eyes. “She…she’s so big.”

“It’s ok,” Sam whispered to you, trying to coax you out from behind him. You peeked around him to see John getting down on one knee to be less intimidating.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted with a wide smile, and between his soft eyes and the way he said “sweetheart”—just the way Dean said it—you felt your shyness ebbing slightly as you stepped out from behind Sam’s legs.

“Hi,” you mumbled shyly, shuffling your feet as you approached John.

John reached his arms up slowly, hesitantly, as if waiting for your approval. You, never one to turn down a hug, gave it readily and melted into your father’s arms.

Dean had never seen his father smile like he did as he held you in his arms.

“It’s good to see you,” John said quietly as he pulled away. You didn’t seem to know what to say, so Sam spoke up.

“Honey, how about you show him your room?”

You lit up with excitement, snatching up John’s giant hand in your small one and practically dragging him towards your room.

“Ok, ok,” John laughed. “I’m coming!”

“I guess she’s warming up to him,” Sam chuckled to Dean after you disappeared with John in tow.

“We should probably join them,” Dean said. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

…

“Wow.” John laughed. “You’ve gotta lot of toys in here.”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Daddy bought me most of them, he’s really—“ you trailed off when you saw the look of shock on John’s face.

Sam and Dean entered your room before John could ask what you meant, and as soon as they came in you ran to Sam, suddenly shy again in John’s presence. You didn’t know how he would feel when he found out about the angel that was like a third dad to you.

“Hey, something wrong?” Sam glanced between you and John.

“Um, no,” John spoke up, recovering from his shock. “We were just catching up. Dean, can I talk to you?”

Dean nodded, and he and John stepped out of your room.

…

“Kid, did something happen?” Sam asked gently.

“I—um, I mentioned daddy,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes.

“Hey,” Sam coaxed, kneeling down to meet your gaze. “He’s not gonna be mad, ok? He’ll understand, you didn’t do anything.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Sam said with more assurance than he felt.

…

“What happened?” Dean questioned.

“It’s nothing, just…” John cleared his throat, and Dean had never seen him so hesitant. “I just wanted to know…does she call you two her dads?”

The question threw Dean a little.

“I…”

“Look, I get it,” John cut in. “She hasn’t seen me since she was a baby, it makes sense. She just, she mentioned ‘daddy’ and I…I was curious.”

Dean nearly cringed, but he kept his face in check. ‘Daddy’ was your moniker for Cas, and Dean wasn’t too sure how his father would react to the knowledge of angels.

“That’s a really long story,” Dean sighed. “I think maybe we should all talk about it.”

…

“So…angels,” John said quietly about an hour later. “And…the apocalypse?”

“Yeah, more than one,” Dean scoffed.

“And an angel, and the son of Lucifer are living with you,” John added.

“Jack,” you corrected with a smile. “He’s my big brother,” you added proudly. With the less-than-welcome greeting Jack had gotten when he entered the world, you had taken it upon yourself to make him family, and even though you were technically eleven years older than him, he always felt like a big brother to you.

“I see,” John said, smiling softly at you. “You three have been busy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sam said.

…

The four of you spent all day together, and John did all he could to get to know you.

You hit it off well with him, rambling non-stop about everything he’d missed, and he listened with wrapt attention.

You got to experience a lot of firsts with John—he gave you a piggyback ride, you had a pillow fight, and to cap it all off, the whole family sat down for one last meal. But all too soon, it was time to say goodbye.

The moment the boys found out that John had to go, they decided that you shouldn’t be around when it happened. So, at the end of the night that had ended way too soon, John pulled you into his arms for a final goodbye.

“I’m so proud of you, kid,” he said with finality. “These three dads you got here are raising you right, so you listen to them, ok?”

“Ok,” you promised through your tears.

“Hey,” John pulled back, framing your face with his large hands and using the pads of his thumbs to brush away your tears. “It’s ok, sweetheart. We got this day to remember, yeah? That’ll have to be enough for us.”

You nodded, leaning forward for one last hug. John reciprocated, squeezing you tightly.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” John breathed. Just as he was about to pull away, you stopped him with a tug on his arm and a gentle whisper in his ear. At your words, he smiled and picked you up, and Sam and Dean trailed behind as John carried you into your room…

Where John Winchester got to tuck his little girl into bed for the first time, kissing her head and wishing her goodnight. He closed the door with great hesitation, giving you one final, longing glance before shutting off the light and closing your door.

“You’ve got a good kid in there,” John said to his sons, no longer able to hold back the tears.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean smiled.

“You tell that angel friend of yours thanks for me, ok?”

…

You awoke the next morning to a quiet bunker.

“Daddy?” You began. “Are you back yet?”

With a flutter of wings, Castiel stood in front of you.

“Hello little one,” he greeted with a smile. “Yes, I got back last night after you fell asleep.” Cas grinned when you launched yourself into his arms. “I’ve heard you had quite the eventful day.”

You recounted every moment of the previous day with your father, and Castiel watched with a patient smile, glad that you got to meet John, even if just for a day.

“Well, after such an exciting day I’d say you need a lot more sleep,” Castiel said with a frown when he noticed the early hour.

“Can you tuck me in?” You asked shyly.

He smiled, “Of course little one.”

“You’re awake.”

The two of you turned at the sound of Jack’s voice in the doorway.

“I’m putting her back to sleep,” Castiel informed him.

“I wanna say hi to Jack first!” You insisted, jumping out of bed and running to hug Jack. He laughed and hugged you back tightly, before lifting you in his arms and carrying you to bed.

“Castiel is right, it’s far too early for you to be up, little sister. Get some rest.” He set you down gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead, an action mirrored by Cas.

“Sleep tight, little one.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

#dean winchester #dean and sam #the winchesters #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel & reader #castiel x winchester!reader #castiel x reader #cas x you #spn cas #cas x reader #spn castiel #castiel novak #castiel #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester x reader #john winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you #spn sam winchester #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x daughter!reader #sam winchester x daughter

[celtic-crossbow]

All at Once, This is Enough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria (Whisperers Arc) Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth Summary: Baby Dixon is impatient, an experience you and Daryl will never forget. A/N: I actually love writing Daryl as a dad (or soon to be dad). I think I’ll continue this with little drabbles here and there, but for now, this is the last installment of And Baby Makes Three series

*Click here to be added to taglists.

The door flew inward and bounced off the wall from the force of Daryl’s boot, wood chips flying but it seemed to still be functional. He turned his body to shield you in case of any threats inside, but the one room cabin was empty save for some old, run down furniture. You curled in on yourself with a pained wince, clutching your rounded belly as the muscles tightened and rippled under your hands. 

“Tha’ ‘nother one?” Daryl asked, gently placing you on the decrepit couch, Dog lying obediently by your feet. You nodded, breathing through your mouth, slow and deeply. “‘Bout four minutes maybe.” He mumbled to himself. He had no way to time but Siddiq had told him to try. In a rush of movement, the archer tore the old sheets off the bed, sending dust up in a cloud. He glanced at you apologetically while digging the extra blankets out of the pack. You had stuffed the damn thing full, so he could only pray there were things that would be useful. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled when the pain ebbed away and you had a moment to relax. He was spreading a blanket over the mattress but stopped to look at you over his shoulder. 

“Wha’ fer?”

“I begged to come with you. Now, we’re here waiting for Siddiq and what if something goes wrong and Daryl, what if the baby… what if I…” You felt his hands on your face, not even realizing he had moved. 

“Hey, hey. Ev’rythin’ s’gonna be okay. He’ll be here soon. Okay?” 

Your eyes danced back and forth between his but you nodded and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth. Your lips were so soft against his palm. He smiled at you, small but genuine, and moved his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth before going back to work on setting up what Siddiq said was needed. 

He made it two steps when he heard your breathing pick up and then a whine of his name. Glancing at you and then the bed, he came back and kissed your temple while gently lifting you. It had only been about three minutes since the last one. 

With the utmost care, he placed you on the mattress with the two pillows to prop you up. His poncho was draped over them to keep any dirt or dust away from you. 

“Daryl… it feels like…” You had begun to sweat, even in the freezing interior. There hadn’t been time for him to start a fire yet. 

Daryl took hold of your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Feels like wha’?”

“It burns.” You hissed. The archer felt his stomach flip and thought he might vomit. He had no idea what that meant or how to help you. 

He let go of your hand and patted the back of it before snatching up the radio. “Siddiq.” He heard the static and waited, driving his boot through an old coffee table. He had to start a fire. When there was no answer in the time it took him to break up enough pieces to burn, he pressed the button harder than necessary. “Siddiq!”

“I’m here, Daryl. Ran into some walkers. Tell me what's happening.”

“She’s hurtin’ ‘bout ev’ry three minutes now. Says it burns.” He could have cried when the flame caught so quickly. Jogging back over to you, he started unfolding the second of three blankets. They were small and not very thick but they would cover you and help with the chill. That would do for now. 

“Okay. Have you checked her to see if the baby is crowning?”

“Not a doctor, man.” 

“Right. Sorry. I need you to look and tell me what you see.”

Daryl felt dizzy. A part of you that he was so intimately familiar with now scared the living hell out of him. He was out of his depth, but he had no choice. You and the baby had to be okay. “Yeah…um, okay… hang on.” He dropped the radio at the foot of the bed and then placed the blanket next to your hip. “Hey, I, uh, need ta look at ya.”

“Help me get these off.” You seemed utterly unbothered, pulling at the soft elastic waistband of the jeans. With a nod, Daryl took over, pulling them and your panties down your legs once you had raised your hips. He tossed them aside and placed one knee on the bed.

“I don’ know wha’ ‘m doin’.” The archer whispered, voice trembling. 

“You’re just looking right now, Daryl.” You said between quickening breaths. When this one hit, your fingers dug into the blanket, twisting it, and you threw back your head with a scream. Daryl moved then, a hand on each of your knees, he separated them and reached behind him for the radio. 

“I…don’t even know how describe wha’m lookin’ at.”

“Try, Daryl.”

He lifted his other hand from your knee and wrenched your fingers from the blanket, letting you squeeze his hand instead. At least now, he didn’t feel completely useless. Now, he was staring at your poor vagina and trying to think of a way to describe what exactly was going on down there. 

“It, uh…it looks like half a peach with the pit still in it.”

“Shit.”

That did not inspire confidence. “Shit? Whaddaya mean shit?!” Looking up, the archer met your eyes, wide and terrified. He gave your hand a squeeze. This was all too insane and he knew if he thought about more than the here and the now, he would lose his goddamn mind. Here and now, you needed him. His baby needed him. He couldn’t think past that. 

“I think the baby is crowning.”

“Th’fuck that mean?” 

“It means that your baby is going to be born before I can get to you.”

His heart was pounding furiously, his chest literally hurt with each beat. You were looking at him, mirroring the terror he knew was showing naked on his face. His hand trembled as he pressed the button on the radio. 

“Tell me wha’ ta do.” 

“Daryl.” You cried, barely able to catch your breath while the grip on his hand tightened. 

“I know, Sunshine.” The radio remained silent other than static. “Siddiq?” You were repositioning yourself as best you could while refusing to let go of him. “M’gonna kill ‘im.”

“Yeah, do that, but first…could you maybe catch our baby?”

“Wait… wait, wha’?”

You could feel another contraction coming, leaving you very little time to speak. “I helped with Hershel and with RJ. I can do this. Just… don’t pass out.” With a deep breath during the first spasm of the next contraction, you pushed, teeth clenched with a scream brewing behind them. 

“Won’ pass out.” He wasn’t very sure of himself but he couldn’t let you down. It wasn’t an option. Daryl moved to the area just below your feet, holding your knees to give you some kind of grounding connection. He was supposed to say something, right? Encourage you? It felt like the right thing to do. You’d surely tell him to shut up if it wasn’t. “Ya, uh… ya got this.”

You fell back, feeling like you got absolutely nowhere. It still burned and the pressure was incredible. “Fuck. Ow.”

Daryl’s thumb swiped back and forth over your kneecap. “Wha’ can I do? Whaddaya need?”

“I need this baby out of me!” You panted, your fingers flexing in the blanket. 

“Well, tha’s the endgame, Sunshine.” 

You were making a conscious effort to not end up like the women in movies. All “I hate you” and “you did this to me,” especially when Daryl was looking at you with an expression somewhere between worry and that he thought you hung the moon. You couldn’t imagine yelling at him during the most important event of your lives. 

Then the next contraction came and it was time to push. Maybe yelling at him would make this easier somehow. It didn’t matter because the pain was unbearable and you couldn’t form words if you tried. 

“Yer doin’ great. Holy shit, baby’s right there!”

You wanted to ask questions as you sagged against the pillows, feeling like you got no reprieve before you’re sitting up again to push. Daryl was talking, encouraging you and squeezing your knees until he wasn’t. You had enough conscious thought to miss the contact but then you were being torn in half. You screamed, the pain white hot and new and then the most intense relief that you had ever known. 

That angry wailing was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 

You did it.

Panting hard, near gasping, you looked at Daryl. His eyes were wide and shining, his arms moving to wrap the little bundle in a blanket. He looked so adorably alarmed and lost that you would have given anything to wrap both him and the baby up and hold them. 

“There’s a…uh,” he lifted the cord that was still attached and you remembered there was still work to be done but your body knew what to do. Right then, you just wanted to see this little person that you and Daryl created. 

“It’s okay. Just leave it.” You reached toward him and he automatically offered up the newborn while a tear rolled down his cheek. 

“S’a boy.” Daryl said quietly while you positioned your son close to your chest. Offering up a nipple while careful not to pull against the cord, you were surprised at how easily he latched on.

“Wow, hungry little guy. Definitely yours.” You smiled up at the archer to find him still looking awestruck. “You’re a daddy.” He nodded carefully while moving to sit beside you, blue eyes flickering between you and the baby. “He looks just like you too.”

“Poor kid.” With slow, gentle movements, Daryl brushed a finger over the baby’s soft, light hair before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yer amazin’.”

“I bet you say that to all your baby mamas.”

“Stop.”

Daryl did not, in fact, kill Siddiq.

Baby Dixon was now a week old. You and Daryl had settled into a routine of such domestication that you could almost forget the dead walked outside the walls. He had turned over anything that needed done around the community to someone else, aside from hunting. He made sure Carol and Michonne were there to help you when he had to go out. People had to be fed and it was winter. It was the one job he couldn’t ignore. 

Your eyes opened to the moonlight peering through the window. You propped yourself up on your arms and looked around the room. The other side of the bed and the bassinet were empty. You were alone. 

That meant there was only one place Daryl could be. 

When you pushed open the nursery door, you found your archer sitting in the rocking chair with your son tucked in the crook of his elbow, talking softly. 

“Yer uncle Merle was a real sumbitch but he’da loved ya. Well, after he told me wha’ a pussy I was fer settlin’ down with yer mama.”

“Language.” You whispered around a smile. 

Daryl didn’t seem surprised to see you there. “He was fussin’ n’ he only ate a hour ago. Didn’ wanna wake ya so we came in here. M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You walked over and brushed back the archer’s hair before leaning on the back of the chair to gaze at your son. The baby was staring intently between the both of you, gurgling and cooing around his fingers. 

“He likes stories.” Daryl informed you, never looking away from the tiny bundle. “Keeps ‘im from squaling when he gets changed if I tell him somethin’ new.”

“We should name him soon.” 

“Yeah. Lil’ bean ain’t what I wanna saddle the poor kid with.”

You chuckled. “You called Judith lil’ asskicker.”

“Kid eventually got a name.” Daryl stood carefully, holding the baby in one arm while the other reached for your hand. You laced your fingers through his and followed him back to your bedroom. With the baby in his bassinet, Dary wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. He pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I think I know what we could name him.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Michonne moved around your kitchen, putting together plates for everyone. She and Carol would bring food over to make sure you and Daryl were eating while adjusting to being parents. Carol was snuggling the baby and pointing out which features belonged to Daryl and which were yours. 

“Definitely Daryl’s ears.” She laughed. 

“Wha’s wrong with my ears?” Daryl gave her a light kick on the ankle. 

“Nothing, Pookie. They’re adorable.” Carol smiled sweetly and Daryl flipped her off. You had all just sat down to eat when the hungry whimpers began. “I think this little guy wants his dinner too, mama.”

You accepted your son and sat down on the couch, sliding your arm through one sleeve so you could pull up your shirt without it continuously falling down while he tried to nurse. There was no need to cover up. It was just the five of you. Judith and RJ were at Aaron’s with Gracie. 

The baby latched on eagerly. “There you go, little bean.”

“You two ever gonna name him?” Michonne queried. You and Daryl exchanged a knowing look. 

“We already did.” The archer noted before sipping from his water glass. 

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense here!” Carol beamed, food forgotten. 

You smiled at Daryl and he nodded. “Well,” you began while stroking your baby’s cheek. “We’d like to formally introduce you to Merle Richard Dixon.”

Daryl kept his eyes on you but could feel Michonne looking at him. “Fer the brother I’s born with and fer the one that chose me.” 

The room went quiet save for the sounds of little Merle suckling away without a care. 

When Daryl saw you shift your gaze, he finally turned to Michonne. “Is, uh…is tha’ okay?” There were tears in her eyes with one escaping to travel down her cheek. 

After a moment, she smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I think he’d love that.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching relief wash over Daryl as well. You shifted Merle to sit upright on your lap with your hand under his chin while the other rubbed his back. “Then it’s settled.” There were smiles and nods shared before everyone went back to eating. 

And the baby let out a burp worthy of an adult man. 

“Yeah, Merle fits.” Carol teased. The air in the room was lighter with laughter and everything seemed perfect. At least for now, but you’d definitely take that. 

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon twd #murda writes #Spotify

[tiredmamaissy]

Little Secret

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: jake sully x na’vi reader x lo’ak sully

Warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, profanity, dub-con(?), heat cycle, dark/mr.stealyourgirl Jake, poor clueless Lo’ak, fingering, ab riding, oral sex (f receiving), infidelity, p in v

Word Count: 4.6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: I had to make it fair, you know, since Jake stole Neteyam’s mate. I’m just in my dark era, guys I’m sorry. Also, @jakexneytiri practically wrote this. This is for you, bestie. I love you and your big, juicy, sexy brain, I just wanna give it a big smooch.

Synopsis: Lo’ak is away on a two-day hunting trip, and you unexpectedly go into heat. Good thing the Olo’eyktan finds you before anyone else does.  

“Are you sure? I can stay back.” Lo’ak breaks the kiss, cupping your cheek.

“Yes, Lo’. My heat won’t come for a few more days.” you smile softly, hands resting on his chest.

Just a few more eclipses and your heat would be here. As much as you wanted your mate to stay with you, you knew it was important that he goes on this two-day hunting trip. Supplies were low and he was one of the few warriors in the clan equipped to travel far distances. You nudge him towards the door, but he stands firm, resisting your pushes.

“My love.” He rests his hands over yours, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Ma’ Lo’ak.” you say, eyes of innocence peering up into his.

“I can smell you.” he growls, briefly holding his breath to savour your faint scent.

His four words send shivers down your spine, hot breath prickling your skin. You could already feel your body’s arousal as the blood rushes to your cheeks, staining them a tinge of pink. You nibble on your bottom lip, chest tightening from the lustful eyes that bore into yours.

“Then you better hurry up and come back, alright?” you kiss him quickly and nudge him with shaky hands once more.

“So eager to get rid of me, huh? What? Have another na’vi coming to see you once I’m gone?” he chuckles, slowly retreating to the makeshift door.

“You know I don’t like when you make those jokes, Lo’ak.” you chide, offended that he thinks you’d do such a thing.

“Yeah, yeah. And what if I didn’t have anything against it?” he mumbles as you shove his shoulder, spinning him around to face the door. “Just as long as I get to remind you who’s really owns you after.”

Your tongue clicks in frustration. “Go, before the hunting party leaves you. Again.” you huff, giving him a final shove out the door.

----

Rousing from your deep slumber, you find that the dryness in your eyes makes it difficult to open them. You groan, not feeling nearly as rested as you should after such a long nap. The grogginess is so overwhelming that your eyelids feel like two bags of sand, weighing heavily on your face. Lethargy so potent it slumps you into a torpor trance, ebbing away whatever consciousness you have remaining.  

Just like that, you fall into yet another cycle of sleep.

A few more hours pass, the eclipse now in full bloom. A familiar dopiness washes over you, lips cracked and dry from hours and hours of no hydration. You attempt to swallow, only for you to struggle to gather any spit to wad together. That’s when another familiar sensation quickly sets in. One where your body heats up from the inside out, starting at the core of your being, radiating to your extremities. Accompanied by intense dizziness, you could barely piece together a coherent thought. Screams echo in your head, demanding for ‘water, water, water’. You try to shuffle to your feet, only for them to give out, causing you to tumble back onto the mat beneath you.

Sitting in an utter state of bewilderment, you force open your unfocused eyes, trying your best to scan your tent with blurred vision. “Lo’ak?” you croak out a dry throat, only to remember that he’s not here. “Ah. Right...” you think aloud, using the back of your hand to feel your forehead. “’s so hot.” you mumble to yourself, giving your forehead a quick swipe, beads of sweat now dripping down your forearm.

Do I have a fever? I don’t feel good.

A heaviness takes over your body, limbs growing weightier by the second. Soon you’re lying on your back, trying your best to wriggle out of whatever flimsy cloth you have plastered onto your skin. The knot on your loincloth is so tight, your fingers fumble around trying to untie it. Frustration brews deep in your chest, overflowing with nowhere else to go but up and out your throat in a loud grunt.

With sweat dripping in your eyes, you practically go blind – double vision now setting in. “Fuck.” you cry out, giving up on trying to untie the knot and just going for the easier route – pulling it down your legs. You hook your fingers under the band of your garments, pulling and tugging it to the best of your abilities. But your attempts prove to be futile, thanks to the heaviness of your body, you’re only able to get it about halfway down.

At this rate you’re panting and squirming around trying to get these soaked things off your hot body. You huff loudly, frustration only growing stronger by the second. Quickly moving up to your top, you slip it down your chest, exposing your breasts. A cool, refreshing breeze wafts through the flap of your tent, hardening your nipples into peaks. Eywa, did that feel good.

Your entire body prickles in fervour, heating up to a dangerous degree. You could no longer deny the way you feel – your arousal. The slick seeping from your folds is evidence of it. It coats your thighs the more you rub them together, making a mess on not only yourself but the woven mat beneath you. With your loincloth around your knees, you find it difficult to spread your legs. All you can manage to do is shove your shaky hand between your thighs to try and bring some sort of relief to yourself.

It's like an itch. An itch so deep that you can’t scratch it, no matter how hard you try – no matter how many fingers you use. Your digits fondle with your sensitive clit, doing their upmost best to establish some sort of rhythm in their strokes. The frustration boiling in your chest doesn’t help, it only makes it more difficult to do it properly – to make yourself cum. Your breaths turn raggedy, volume increasing with each swipe of your clit.

The pressure in your chest is immense. It’s like you’re about to implode if you don’t release the tension. Drool dribbling down your cheek, you curl into a ball for better access to your slit. All three fingers eagerly part your folds, prodding at your hole. You bundle them together, shifting your pelvis forward to sink them inside you.

“Ohh!” you let loose a loud, sudden moan, finally feeling some of the pressure release. With no strength to work your fingers, you lazily hump your hand, sliding them in and out of your cunt. You can’t help but let your heavy-lidded eyes close, allowing you to focus on the sensation budding in your womb. It feels so empty – so hollow. You just need to be stuffed to the brim and filled up.

All you can think about is your mate. The two braids that hang freely in front of his face, his brawny stature, his big hands, and lengthy fingers. The things you’d do to have them inside you right now, furling right into your g-spot, satiating that annoying itch deep inside you. Just the mere thought of it quickly turns your ragged breaths into lengthy whines and whimpers as you try to imitate your mate’s touches.

----

Jake dismounts his beast, stroking its tough exterior in efforts to calm him. He had just come back from a stressful meeting about the sky people and their upcoming agenda. With their return, things have become arduous; hunting parties have been targeted on a regular basis, making it difficult to hunt in familiar, well-known areas. Therefore, the stronger, more equipped warriors have been venturing farther out to hunt, typically for a few days at a time, leaving the clan under the protection of Olo’eyktan.

Making quick strides towards the tents, he overhears high-pitched noises. Ears perking up, his head turns to the source of the whimpering and whining. If anyone is in any sort of trouble, it is his duty as Olo’eyktan to help. He follows the noises, only to be led to his son’s tent. Three na’vi men surround the hut, all facing one another, seeing who will back down first. “Men.” the Olo’eyktan speaks, breaking the tension. Their heads snap towards Jake, acknowledging his presence by signing ‘I see you’. “What’s going on here?” Jake asks, hands resting on his hips.

“Someone has left their mate in heat, sir.” one of the men responds.

Jake’s heart skips a beat. If this is his son’s tent, then surely the na’vi in heat is...you.

Seeing these three men linger around you triggers his possessive instincts, or perhaps it was your pheromones wafting past his nose. Either way, he didn’t like the crowd around your tent. “Erm.” he clears his throat, “I will take it from here.” he mutters. The men hesitate to leave, all looking at one another like a new challenger has arrived. “Dismissed!” Jake shouts, startling the men.

“Yes, sir.” they say in unison, bowing their heads and retreating.

----

“Y/n?” Jake’s faint voice is muffled by your lengthy mewls and squelching noises you’re working out of your cunt. “Ah, shit.” he curses, hand flying up to cover his nose. “Y/n.” he calls out once more, approaching your trembling body with caution. “You in heat, sweetheart?”

“L-lo’ak? Is that y-you?” you pant, seeing a blurry tall figure approach you – eyelids too heavy to open fully. “I-I can’t take this anymore. I can’t – I can’t do it. ‘ts too much. too much. too much.” your teeth chatter as the words dislodge from your dry throat. “P-please. I-I... hah... ah - need help. Please. Please. Please.”, you desperately hump your slick coated hand. “Ngh - need... ugh – need w-water, lo’, please.”

Jake clicks his tongue at the sight of you squirming around with your loincloth halfway down your legs, trying to bring relief to yourself. “How long have you been like this, baby girl? Where is that boy? Hm?” he coos, fetching a cup of water.

He kneels beside you, feeling your sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re burnin’ up, look at ya. That boy leaving you in heat alone.” he mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “C’mere, drink for me.” he hoists you into his lap, your fingers still hooked inside you as you nuzzle into him.

He perches your head in the dip of his arm and brings the cup to your chapped lips, watching you eagerly lap up the water. It feels so good, so refreshing – like putting ice on a burn. “M-more Lo’ak.” you mumble, clawing at the wrist holding the cup to your mouth, trying to tip more out of it.

“It’s not Lo’ak, baby girl. It’s Jake.” Jake speaks gently, pulling his hand from your grasp to get more water for you.

Jake? The – the Olo’eyktan? Oh Eywa.

“Here.” he tilts the cup to your lips once more, watching you quench your undying thirst. “Atta girl, y’must be hungry too.” he puts down the cup, “What do you need, hm?” he coos, swiping away the stands of hair stuck to your face.

“N-need. Need.” you blubber, hips spasming uncontrollably against your hand. “I-I need, m-my mate. Need. Ne – ngh! S-sir, ‘m so – oh! s-sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re okay. ‘m gonna call for him now.” He presses the microphone on his throat comm, paging for his son.

“Boy. You really left your mate in heat? Get your ass here. Now.” He whispers harshly, lips curling over his teeth.

“She’s – what? Shit. Yes sir. Coming now.” Lo’ak responds.

Jake huffs out a sigh, eyes drawn to your sticky hand working at your pussy. He watches you struggle a little, fingers barely halfway inside you, covered in a glossy layer of slick. He could tell that the cloth binding your legs together is only making it more difficult for you to fuck yourself. Call it pity, or just plain corruption, but he wanted to help you so, so badly.

“Just gonna help you take this off, alright?” he hums, fiddling with the taut knot on your loincloth. Once the knot becomes undone, your legs snap open, aphrodisiac scent filling the tent. He couldn’t help himself, he had to look – to look at the soft flesh between your legs. It’s obvious his body is succumbing to the influence of your heat, warming up alongside you as you plunge your fingers deeper into yourself.

Meanwhile, you can’t help but whine and whimper, squirming around in his lap as you try to find a better position to hump at your hand. The frustration in your chest has budded into something else completely, something that’s making you feel feverish in your head. All you could think about was your desire, no– your need to be stuffed. You just needed to scratch that maddening itch, to put out that menacing flame.

Your fingers feel so raw and rubbed out, yet so numb at the same time. But you simply couldn’t bring yourself to take them out of you, to allow for the empty sensation to creep back in. Blood now simmering under your skin, you needed him to help you. Your free hand reaches out for his wrist, using it as leverage to place his hand onto your clammy chest. It snaps his gaze up to yours, searching your delirious, watery eyes.

“Hey, hey. No need to cry, alright? Try use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what ya need and I’ll get it for you.” he coos, face screwed with concern.

“Need – need help. Need help.” you repeat franticly, tugging his stiff hand down to your stomach. “’s not enough!” you blurt out, frustrated that he’s resisting your tugs.

“y’not yourself, y/n.” he even struggles to say the words, brows gathering to wrinkle his forehead. “’m not your mate, sweetheart.”

“Please.” you let out a pained whine, ignoring his warning as you tug even harder at his hand. “It – it hurts, sir.”  

He grimaces at your vulnerable, carnal state. Blood rushes to his face, flushing his cheeks the more your pheromones smother him. He tries to hold his breath – his poor attempt to maintain his composure, but your scent is too potent now that you’re in the thick of your heat. Unable to deny his own arousal, evident in the tautness of his loincloth, he finds himself giving in, taking long, deep breathes to savour your sweet, sweet scent.

“God. You smell so fuckin’ good.” Succumbing to the influence of your heat, he yields to your little tugs, allowing his hand to slowly slide down to your stomach.

“Sir. Sir, please. I-I can’t take it... anymore” you hiccup, fingernails digging into his skin. “I-I need... ngh... haah.” you struggle with your words, allowing for your tugs to speak on your behalf.

“Say it.” he growls, slipping his hand down your sticky pelvis, grasping your slender wrist. “Say it so I can help you, baby girl.” the eager words slip out just as his eyes meet yours, insisting you give your spoken consent first.

“I-I need them inside, sir... right here, please” you pant, spreading your trembling legs for him.

“Right here?” he utters innocently, gently pulling your fingers out of your cunt, exposing your slit.  

“Yes! Yes sir! H-hurry, please. ‘m so, so empty. It – it hurts.” you whine loudly, hips bucking on their own.

“Shh. Shh. ‘m gonna help you now.” he hushes you, sliding his palm over your pussy. “But we keep this our little secret, yeah?”

“Y-yes sir!” you sob, rolling your hips against his hand, coating it with a thick layer of your slick.

“Call me Jake.” he breathes, sliding two fingers inside of you. “Shit. So tight. So wet. Jesus, you’re soaked. You’re really in heat, aren’t you?” he fingers you roughly, furling and unfurling his digits into your sweet spot, expertly working out sloppy, squelching noises from your cunt.

“Oh fuck – Jake!” a loud, needy moan splits your lips. Fuck, did it feel so good. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself this entire time, unable to reach this part of yourself with your own fingers. Not to mention the fact that Jake’s fingers are much, much thicker, and lengthier than yours. You couldn’t hold back the lewd noises evading your mouth.

“Yeah, right there? Look at you, making a mess on my fingers.” he chuckles, forearm becoming veiny from how roughly he’s fingering you. Your hips rolled against his hand, rubbing your clit against his callused palm as you chased your fast approaching climax. You yearned for it so badly that you allowed your body to take over for you, fucking his fingers as if it were his Lo’ak’s cock.

Oh, Lo’ak.

“i-is Lo’ak coming?” you barely get out, feeling your walls flutter around his fingers.

“Yeah, he’s coming, but I think you are too.” Jake smirks, feeling your heat spasm around his digits. “Go on, cum f’me.” Just like that, your sweet nectar coats his fingers, body convulsing uncontrollably in his lap as you release silent screams into the air. “Juust like that, good girl.” he hums, quickly pulling his fingers out of you to have his taste of you. “Jesus, you taste just how you smell.”

All you can feel is the ache of your womb, craving to be filled to the brim – the throb of your clit, begging to be stroked. Thick of your heat clouding your head, the emptiness creeps back in tenfold. Still having no control over your own body, you find yourself mounting Jake. Everything feels like a blur, hazy vision and dizziness take over, and before you know it you’ve knocked him onto his back.

“’m s-sorry” you hiccup, hips situating themselves on his stomach.

“Don’t be sorry. Do whatever you need, baby girl.” he reassures you, watching as your hands settle on his chest, supporting your heavy body as you grind into him.

At every rock, you coat his abs with your slick, and soon you were gliding back and forth on his stomach with ease. Each bump from his abs was hitting your clit just right, making you press yourself further onto him, pulsing clit desperate for the friction. “Want some help, sweetheart?” he asks, voice feigned with innocence.

You nod in a frantic manner, brows pinched as you hold your breath. He slides his hand up to grip your thigh, thumb lightly drawing tight circles into your clit. The little shocks shooting through your clit wind you, leaving you breathless. Your eyes slam shut, as you focus on the feeling budding in your womb once more and fuck, you just couldn’t stop the buck of your hips. Tiny, sweet mewls evade your lips as you grind into him once more. “Breathe f’me, y/n.”

Hearing the Olo’eyktan say your name in that way brings you back momentarily, eyes snapping open as a breath of air fills your lungs. “There you go. Don’t want you passin’ out on me.” he chuckles breathily, pressing his thumb into your clit a little harder. Jake’s eyes widen as he watches you leak all over him, slick dripping down the sides of his stomach. “Fuck. Gonna have to rehydrate you if you keep making a mess on me like that, sweet girl.”

“’m sorry, s-sir, mmn Jake.” you moan breathlessly, so, so close to cumming all over his stomach.

Jake hears a buzz of static in his right ear. “Dad? How is she? I’ll be there when the sun comes out.” Lo’ak chimes in through Jake’s earpiece.

“Need you to be quiet f’me, alright sweetheart?” he coos, edging you by slowing the pace of his strokes, only making you rock into him harder.

“She’s doing so well.” he praises you, voice bouncing with every thrust of your hips.

“Okay, dad. T-tell her I love her and that I’m sorry.” Lo’ak’s voice cracks.

“Alright, son. I will.” Jake utters under the trance of your heat, removing his hand from the microphone to place it on your other hip.

“Look at you, squirming around tryna make yourself cum. Want my help?” he asks, already manhandling your hips to yank you up to sit on his face. You look down through blurry vision as he situates his face between your thighs. His warm tongue feels so good that you can’t help but wiggle your hips down onto him, grinding into him. He takes every hump with fervour, lapping up whatever sweet nectar leaks into his mouth.

“S-top.” your breath hitches, word slipping out broken and hoarse. “m’gonna cum in your mm-mouth.” Jake squeezes your hips tighter and shoves your cunt further into his face, silently encouraging you to just do it already.

So, you do.

“Jake.” a little whimper parts your lips, “J-jake. ‘s c-coming.” your breath hitches, “Jake!” you cry out, feeling your walls clench around nothingness as the coil in your abdomen suddenly snaps in two. A pleased hum vibrates low in his chest as he follows each thrust of your hips, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face. Slumping over, you hold on to his hair, thighs closing around his face.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His cock throbbed so painfully in his loincloth he really felt like he was about to cum just from hearing you cry his name. The taut material was slick from his own arousal as precum oozed from his tip. He begins to thrust into the air, each squeeze of his hips rubbed his cock just right against his loincloth. He grunts into your cunt, hands sliding their way up your hips to your waist, using it as leverage to pull you off his face with a -pwah-. He gasps for air as he lies you flat on your back, positioning his covered crotch right at the swell of your ass.

All this rubbing just wasn’t enough, you needed something inside you – something to stuff you until you feel queasily full. But all you can think about is your Lo’ak. How you want his cock. How you wish the hardened bulge pressing firmly against your pussy lips was his, and not his fathers. But, oh fuck did his fathers cock feel so good, nestling itself between your plump folds. You just wanted him to fuck into you, right now. Your body wanted it more – it was evident in the way that your hips spasmed against him, trying their best to burrow this clothed bulge inside you.

“Whatcha doing, sweetheart? Tryna fuck me through my loincloth?” he chuckles, pushing back your legs until your knees brush against your flushed cheeks – exposing your glistening, soft pussy. “God. So fuckin’ pretty.” he swipes all four fingertips from your hole up to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves just right. “Hah. ‘m kinda jealous.” he admits, your heat heightening his territorial instincts.

Oddly, your body only seems to be growing hotter. It feels as if your skin is sizzling under his cool, sensual touches, making the tears stream down your face at a faster rate, “’s not enough... not enough... really – ugh! pleasee” you beg through a whine, not even knowing what for.

Jake knows. He knows exactly what you want – what you need. But he needs you to say the words first – to give him your permission to sink his cock inside you. And until you said those words, he’d continue to restrain himself from doing anything you didn’t outwardly beg for. He wraps your legs around his hips before wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“Oh, sweetheart. No need for those. Tell daddy what you need. C’mon, use your words.” he huffs, his own hips moving on their own accord – grinding into the softness of your pussy.

“Need you.” you pant, tugging at the band of his loincloth.

“Need me where, baby girl?”

“Inside! Need y-you inside me!” you blurt out, frustration so thick in your chest.

He didn’t even have the willpower to respond to you, as he finds himself franticly slipping down his loincloth just enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out, his tip swiping between your pussy lips before slapping against his belly. Holding the base of his length, he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Our little secret, right?”

“Yes” you pant, pelvis shifting to desperately sink down onto his length.

“Oh, fuck. So fuckin’ tight.” he groans lowly, head slumping forward the second his tip kisses your cervix. The more your walls clench around him, the more his restraint dissipates. His hips begin to move on their own, sticky pelvises languidly smacking into one another. Eyes glancing up to yours, he notices the sheer desperation in your eyes and quickly picks up the pace – fucking into you like an animal.

Your filthy moans catch in your throat, mouth agape as your brows gather. He’s so big, bigger than Lo’ak, touching parts of you that have never been touched before. It’s what you’ve been wanting, no – needing, to be stuffed like this, filled to the brim that you could feel it in your stomach. He angles his hips, jamming his swollen tip right into your swelling g-spot. It heavenly – so blissful that you could already feel that coil in your abdomen twist so tightly it’ll snap in two once more.

He can feel it too, the tightening of his core – the swift approach of his own climax. He ruts into you faster, focus shifting from your pleasure to his. He’s so overcome by the influence of your heat that the only thing echoing in his mind is to breed you. He just wants to flood your insides with his hot seed so badly, to mark you as his. It’s silly really, he had Neytiri in his tent waiting for his arrival, yet here he was thinking about knocking up his son’s mate.

“Want me to cum inside you? Get you pregnant, my little secret?”  he pants heavily, thrusts becoming shorter yet deeper, and soon he’s grinding into your cunt, rubbing his pelvic bone against your clit.

“N-no, no. Don’t.” you mumble, yet your hips push back into his thrusts, trying to drill his cock into your womb so he could empty himself inside you.

“But your body is tellin’ me otherwise, baby girl.” he chuckles breathily, feeling your walls heat up around his cock. “You better cum before I do.” he huffs, giving your clit a single swipe – sending you over the edge. You gush all over his stomach, walls pulsating feverishly around his cock, doing their best to milk his seed into your womb as your body shudders underneath him.

You shake your head from side to side, haziness of your heat finally lifting from feeling so full. “Don’t c-cum in me, sir. Please” you hiccup, consciousness slipping away as he grinds into you.

“Jesus, fuck. You’re squeezin’ me just right. Gonna breed this little fucking pussy of yours. Make you mine.” he gives you a deep thrust, before barely pulling out of you in time to spill his warm seed all over your stomach. He rides out the last lap of his high in his hand as guttural, lengthy groans evade his lips. His head snaps up to see the sun’s rays shine through the cracks of the tent – Lo’ak would be here any minute.

He quickly fixes his loincloth before tying yours back around you. Going for a bucket of clean water and a cloth, he starts cleaning off your stomach. He tries to keep a straight face, pretending to cool you off with the cloth as he hears rustling behind him – the flap of the tent opening. He tries not the budge when he hears his son’s voice pierce the air.

“Thank you... for taking care of her, dad.” Lo’ak’s hushes his voice, realizing that you’re sleeping.  

“It was no problem at all, she was a good girl. Handled it very well.” Jake mutters, plopping the cloth back into the water as he stands up. “I’ll leave ya to it, son.” he pats Lo’ak’s shoulder as he walks past him.  

--

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[ddejavvu]

ORAL FIXATION WITH REMUSS PLEASEEEEE!!!! You are all soft and sappy and whiny like a baby and remus hasn’t given you much attention, rather spending his time talking to the boys, and all you want is him in your mouth. You are drooling at the thought and when he realizes he feels so bad for denying his poor little baby!!! :(((

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You're so desperate that you're sitting on the floor. Remus's lap is your permanent resting place, and everyone was a little taken aback when you'd sank to your knees in front of the sofa instead, but they're all too deep in conversation to think about you now.

Unfortunately, that includes Remus. He doesn't seem to notice your touches up his calves, the way your fingers squeeze at his thighs, or how you face-plant into his lap. All he thinks is that you're sleepy, and he gently pets through your hair to soothe you.

Having your nose buried in Remus's lap only makes things worse. You can smell his musk through his pants, and your mouth waters at the thought of burying your face in the smattering of hair just above his cock. And his balls, your fingers curl into his thighs just thinking about licking them up. What really gets you drooling is his cock, though, and you cram your face against it as tight as you possibly can, your spit slowly soaking through his pants as it seeps from your lips.

Now Remus notices you.

"Jesus- hang on, mates. Y/N," He slips a hand under your chin, crooning softly at your glazed-over eyes and drooly lips, "Is there something you want from me?"

"Cock," You mumble, pleadingly, "'Want your cock."

"Okay. Okay, dove." He hums, adoration gleaming in his eyes as he nudges your face away so that he can unzip his pants. Right there, in the middle of a conversation with his friends, he pulls his dick out of his pants, breathing hitching when you press your face against him.

Your tongue shoots out to slobber against his cockhead, and you welcome him into your mouth, suckling him like a pacifier. The weight on your tongue is soothing, and you can feel tension from the day ebbing away with every second Remus's warm cock is in your mouth.

"There y'go, dovey." Remus coos, petting down your hair. His fingers trace a soft and steady rhythm against your scalp, and he turns back to his friends when he's sure you're satiated. "Sorry, lads, 'm back. What were you saying?"

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one-shot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin hc #remus lupin hcs #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin dialogue #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader fanfiction #remus lupin smut

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Oh oh oh can I request the Diasmonia boys having a nightmare about losing the MC and waking up to them beside them, relieved that it was just a dream and cuddling them?

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia woke up in a cold sweat, a little shaky but otherwise he seemed totally normal. He had been dealing with nightmarish things since he was young, and he thinks this might be why he can envision such horrible things happening to you. He was constantly tugged this way and that,  never getting to choose his own path until much later in his life. He’s able to have a sigh of relief when he sees you laying in bed next to him, reaching out to touch stroke your hair, being careful not to wake you. He felt a little foolish now but he knew there were plenty of enemies roaming the earth who would be eager to take you from him, so if he wasn’t careful… No, he’d rather not think negatively now, not when you’re looking so cute beside him.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus woke up to a storm outside, sighing as he realized he couldn’t control his emotions in his sleep and that if he didn’t get a hold on that it could prove to be a problem in the future. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, the dream coming back to him in full color despite the fact he’d rather forget it. It had been an old fear, one of losing you to some random circumstance that was so far out of his control even he felt useless, but it seemed to have reared its ugly head again. He could still feel the warmth of your body beside him despite the now chilly night, sliding back down in bed and wrapping his arms around you from behind. You find his grip is iron tight the next morning, not allowing you to slip out of it until he had risen as well.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek just felt irritated, disappointed, he had been trained as a bodyguard his whole life and he was quite proud to say that he was good at it. He knew how to fight, he knew how to use his magic, he knew how to look for signs of danger—Why did dream him have to be so easily influenced by emotion? Why did dream him not act and instead remain frozen in fear as he was confronted with one of his worst nightmares? He’s squirming in bed as he tried to get back to sleep which quickly woke you up, startling him when he heard your sleepy voice asking him what was wrong. He mumbled out something incoherent before sternly telling you to go back to bed, his nightmare slowly ebbing away as you rested your head on his chest and threw an arm across him.

Silver:

Silver felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he rose, hands rubbing at his eyes as he tried to wipe the sadness and sleepiness away. It was too vivid for him to stomach and he found himself pushing the memories of the nightmare with all his might, frustrated that such a shining weakness was showing itself now. He knew his father had once talked about the fact that our loved ones could always be used to exploit vulnerability, but Silver had trained hard since that moment. He wanted to protect all those around him but most of all you, who laid beside him now completely unaware of the emotional turmoil he was going through. He hesitated but nudged your arms open, resting his head against your chest so he could hear the soothing beat of your heart that eventually allowed him to fall asleep again.

#Lilia Vanrouge #Sebek Zigvolt #Malleus Draconia #Silver #TWST #Twisted Wonderland #TWST Imagines #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Silver x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader

[mysticworks]

Love you like I do ~ CS55 x Reader

Carlos comforts reader in a vulnerable moment of self - doubt.

Preview: He brought his voice low, knowing that now you’d calmed down, it was the right time to address your worries. “You’ll always be enough.”

Your breaths were intermingling now, the heat from the summer day filling the car. 

“Enough for me to love you with all my soul.” 

Word Count: 1k

Genre: Pure Fluff

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

You peered into the mirror of the car, rechecking your lip gloss was applied with precision for the umpteenth time that day; using your finger to trace the outline of your lips - smudges today were an absolute no no. 

Carlos sneaked a glance your way, before flashing his eyes back on the road, smile curling at your actions, “Any more gloss and you are going to look like a freshly glazed doughnut.”

It was just a joke. Harmless and innocent. 

You could hear the humour in his voice, the slight edge of a laugh as he took a left turn into your destination street. Yet something set off inside of you.

Maybe it was the nerves, the anxiety you’d been feeling since morning.

You were meeting Carlos’ family for the first time today, being invited over to dinner a year after you’d started dating. He’d promised you they were eager to meet you, that he’d told them all about you; stories, funny anecdotes, your likes and dislikes and they’d grown an eagerness to you before having met you. 

Yet there was still something pinching your chest, a worry tugging at you, the question haunting you as you asked yourself, but what if they don’t like me? What if I’m not enough?

You pursued your lips as Carlos pulled into the driveway of his family home, staring out the window intently, eager not to meet his eye. He seemed to sense the shift in your mood, turning his head towards you in concern as the engine whirred to a slow silence. 

“You okay?”

You felt a hand come to rest on your knee, Carlos gently rubbing his thumb in a slow, comforting motion.

Sucking in a breath, you nodded, raising your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and attempting to give a small smile of reassurance to Carlos. “Yeah. Just nervous I think.”

Carlos reached for your jaw, taking it delicately in his hand and turning your head to meet his eyes. His stare was intent, hard to break away from, and you found yourself peering straight into them - the focused gaze too compelling to break away from. 

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.”  

You raised a brow at him, sighing slightly, “I don’t know Carlos…what if…what if I’m not what they expect?”

You felt Carlos begin to lean over the handbrake, closing the gap between the two of you; the small space between you making your face fill with his hot breath. “Then we break up and never meet again.”

You raised your eyebrows high, shooting him an exasperated look - He only flashed you a cheeky grin in reply and you had to admit, the blatant sarcasm dripping from his words cracked a smile on your face too. 

“You really don’t have to worry, you know. Just be yourself.” Carlos brought his finger up to your hair, catching the forever untamed strand and tangling it between his fingers, “be your funny, smart and lovable self.” 

“Will that be enough?” Your voice was quieter now, and you bit your lip in unease. “What if- ” Carlos cut you off with his eyes, letting his gaze dance all across your face before coming to a rest at your lips. 

He brought his thumb to where you were biting your lip, gently caressing the area and leaving a quick peck; “Yes…definitely a glazed doughnut.”

He was mumbling to himself, purposely avoiding your questions to bring some sort of ease into you. And somehow, it worked - like he knew you too well - how to soothe you and calm down irrational fear. 

He continued his trail of small pecks, fingers still playing with your hair and you felt yourself full of tingles - heat rising in your chest. The worry seemed to be ebbing away, a giddy feeling consuming you instead. 

Carlos sensed this, letting his lips fall away from your face and giving your nose a quick ‘boop’ with the tip of his.

Gosh he was so intelligent with sensing emotions.

He brought his voice low, knowing that now you’d calmed down, it was the right time to address your worries. “You’ll always be enough.”

Your breaths were intermingling now, the heat from the summer day filling the car. 

“Enough for me to love you with all my soul.” 

Carlos’ voice was deep, full of emotion - he was somehow always so poetic when emotive - so expressive and sincere. 

“And they’ll love you too. Just like I do.”

He reached out for your left hand, his fingers playing with yours. They lingered every so slightly, on your ring finger longer than the others, toying with it and the prospect of forever filled you with an emotion so deep you thought you’d burst into flowers. 

Not saying another word, Carlos left you in inquisition, turning to leave the car from his side. 

He cocked his head, signalling it was time to head inside before sprinting to your side of the car, feigning exaggerated gestures as he opened the door wide for you to step out, bowing his head; arms flailing wildly in a mocked butler curtsy.

You found yourself giggling as you stepped out, and Carlos pressed a tender peck on your forehead, mirroring the smile, his hand coming to find the small of your back as you walked through the front gate. 

As you walked through the concrete pathway leading to the front door, it dawned upon you just how huge the exterior of this home was; the front lawn a beautiful meadow of fresh, emerald grass. 

The pathway you walked on winded down in asymmetric slabs of concrete, cherry blossom trees scattered amongst antique lamp posts that gave a retro feel to the scene.

The door frame itself was decorated with baskets of flowers - tiger lilies and tulips, the fragrance of nature filling your lungs with every breath you took.

Carlos reached down towards one of the flowering buds, delicately picking out a vividly coral tiger lily - it was full in blossom, bright and bloomed. 

With a gentle hand, Carlos placed the flower into your hair, tucking its stem securely behind your ear. You turned to face him, sharing a smile before stepping into his home, ready to be welcomed. 

#f1 #f1 imagines #carlos sainz #cs55 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #f1fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #cs55 x reader #cs55 fluff #cs55 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc

[kingkatsuki]

Lactation | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟, 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Kinktober masterlist.

Based on this silly post I made a while back!

Summary: Time alone with Bakugou has been few and far between since the birth of your son, the after affects of pregnancy have you feeling sore and lethargic- But your doting husband is more than willing to help you out.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of pregnancy, lactation, praise praise praise, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 2.3k.

“Why does he get to do it?” Bakugou’s chest was pressed firmly against your back as he hovered over you to watch his son feeding before bed.

“Do what?” You hummed softly, leaning into the warmth of your husband as your son latched on.

“Suck on these,” Bakugou palmed your other breast as you whined softly, a subtle ache ebbing through you from how heavy your chest felt full of milk.

“Katsuki,” You shook your head, smiling softly at your husbands childishness, “He’s a baby.”

“And?” He scoffed, holding your hips gently as he caged you between your son and the crib, “I’m just fu- freakin’ saying’ I was here first.”

Bakugou stopped himself from swearing after the side glance you gave him, knowing your husband better than he probably knew himself. A subtle pout etched onto his ageing features, tired eyes staring down at you as he kneaded your sore breast for emphasis. You did feel guilty that you’d been neglecting your husband since childbirth, even though you knew you shouldn’t. Bakugou was the perfect husband and father, reassuring you that you were still the most perfect, beautiful woman in the room even now. But insecurities would often plague your mind, and finding very little time for yourself since your son had arrived into the world meant that these thoughts would continue to fester at the back of your mind.

“Can’t even remember the last time I had these to myself.” Bakugou continued. 

“There’s no way you’re jealous of your son,” You laughed, leaning into his touch as he began to gently sway you from side to side.

“Ain’t my fault he’s got the perfect life,” Bakugou smirked as he pecked your cheek, “What I wouldn’t give to fall asleep sucking on these.”

He gave your other breast a playful squeeze as he raised it towards him before letting it bounce back into place. The wireless maternity bra you were wearing did little to stop the motion as you let out a soft gasp, milk leaking from your nipple and soaking the fabric. You were certain this was the least desirable you’d ever looked to your husband, with baby spittle and milk staining your shirt, messy hair and tired eyes. But Bakugou was gazing at you as though you were holding his world with your bare hands, keeping the moon and stars in the sky as he pressed another soft kiss to your cheek.

“They’re actually really fucking sore,” You whined as you lay your son back in his crib, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before standing back up. You didn’t even bother doing your bra back up as your breast continued to leak milk, sighing gently as your husband began pressing soft kisses along the column of your neck.

“Is he suckin’ too hard?” Bakugou nosed your cheek as he watched his son feeding.

“No, they’re just full.” You mumbled, “I feel like I’ve pumped for hours today and it didn’t make a difference because I’m still leaking.”

“Fuck,”

“Katsuki,” You chastised him for his language as he pulled back to give you an incredulous look.

“What? He can’t understand me yet.” Bakugou’s lips curled into a smug gin.

“If his first word is a cuss word I’m never speaking to you again.” You taunted as you turned to face him.

“You could never,” Bakugou teased, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Do you really want to take that chance?” Bakugou pecked another kiss on your lips before nuzzling your cheek, keeping his hand on your hip as he leaned over the crib to press a kiss to his son's forehead.

“Your first word is going to be ‘daddy’ ain’t that right?” He smiled sweetly, pressing a final kiss to the top of his head before standing upright.

“Or mummy,” You smiled softly at your baby boy, breaking off into a soft yawn as you covered your mouth.

“You tired?” Bakugou hummed as you nodded in affirmation.

“He’s been so fussy today, I didn’t get much time to myself.” You mumbled.

“Let me look after you, princess.” He took your hand in his as he led you towards your shared bedroom, the baby monitor in his other hand as he placed it down on your bedside table.

Turning his attention to you as he curled a hand around the curve of your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “Bout time someone looked after you isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Katsuki,” You gasped as he pulled you down to lay on the soft sheets, the top you were wearing riding up your thighs as you suddenly felt self-conscious about the stains against the fabric from feeding your son and the fact you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d shaved your legs.

It’s silly how shy you feel around your husband over your basic outfit, pulling your pyjama shirt off to leave you in a basic pair of cotton panties and a mismatched nursing bra. Motherhood made it difficult to cater your wardrobe to style over substance, the ache in your lower back had you choosing the most comfortable clothing you owned, but Bakugou thought you’d never looked sexier. The ethereal glow you’d taken on since pregnancy stuck around even now, your body truly a gift from the gods as he felt his cock throbbing with urgency between his thighs. But this moment wasn’t about him, it was all about you. Ignoring the throb as his cock leaked fresh pre against the fabric of his underwear as he leaned forward. Helping to undo the clasp of your basic grey bra as he watched the fabric spill down your shoulders, allowing your breasts to drop naturally as he moaned at the sight of them. How heavy they looked, your nipples darkened and swollen as you gazed up at him shyly.

“Katsuki, don’t stare.” You mumbled, but how could he not? When you were the one that carried his son to term, you were the reason his son was happy and healthy now.

“You’re so pretty,” He cooed softly as he began to press chaste kisses against your collarbone, following a path towards your sternum before nuzzling the valley of your breasts. Warm palms soothed along your abdomen, feeling your tummy where your baby had been for so long, “Tell me if I’m too rough.”

“Please, Kats.” You mumbled, pouty lips and furrowed brows as he leaned in closer.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had these to myself,” He murmured, nuzzling his face between them before moving to suckle on your nipples.

His lips slurp your breast as warm milk begins to flow, the sweet taste of it hitting his tongue as he moans against the soft skin. A large palm reaches up to take the fat of your breast in his hand, kneading gently to tempt more milk from your chest. There’s a part of him that feels wrong, as though he’s stealing milk from his son, but at the same time Bakugou loves every inch of you and he wants to take away the pain you feel when your breasts are heavy and lactating. So he continues swallowing the sweet milk that leaks from your chest as he switches breasts, his tongue swiping along the mess that’s leaked from your nipple against your skin. Groaning against you as he gently wraps his lips around your nipple, cheeks hollowing as his throat bobs. Your hands thread through his messy hair as your nails graze his scalp, brushing through the grown-out hairs of his undercut as you hold him in place while he worships your body.

“So good, Kats.” You murmur, your head writhing against the pillow as he gets another taste of you, the milk sliding down his throat as he groans against your skin.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He rasps, pulling back to gaze up at you through half-lidded eyes.

Squeezing your breast to watch the milk begin to trickle out of your taut nipple before he leans forward to lap it up. You can feel the heat beginning to rise between your thighs, the sudden realisation sweeping over you that you can’t remember the last time you’ve had the time or energy to be intimate with your husband.

His hardness presses against your crotch as he shows how desperately he wants you, urgency brewing inside him as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your panties. Dragging his fingers through your slick to feel how wet you are for him as he sucks in a breath. Two of his fingers slip into your wet, tight heat and suddenly he’s reminded of how gorgeous you feel wrapped around his cock. His fingers curl inside you as he continues to lap at your breasts, his tongue circling your swollen nipple as he tastes more of your milk in his throat. A slight lilt to your voice as you beg him for more, a keen sense of urgency to your tone as you try to tug at his sweats. Desperate to feel him deep inside you, to satiate the ache swirling between your thighs.

Bakugou pulls his fingers from your sex as you whine at the loss of contact. Moving to pull his sweats down just enough to free his aching cock before he wraps the same fingers coated in your slick around his girth. Giving himself a teasing pump as his leaking tip nudges your clothed sex.

There’s an innate sense of urgency as he curls his fingers into the hem of your cotton panties to tug them down your thighs, leaving them hanging around one of your ankles as he lines himself up with your sex.

“Please, Katsuki.” You slur, “I want you so bad.”

He presses the bulging tip of his cock against your tight hole as he presses his weight forward, feeling you slowly begin to swallow the length of him. Eagerly sucking him in as he cants his hips forward, so wet and pliant that he manages to bottom out with minimal resistance as he stills inside you for a moment to cherish the sensation of your walls squeezing his cock once again.

“Fuck,” He chokes out as your breasts continue leaking milk, the sight alone has his cock throbbing inside you as he sets a languid pace. Vermillion eyes meet your own as he rests his forehead on top of yours for a moment, surrounding himself with you, “Always feel so goddamn perfect, like you were made for me.”

Bakugou licks his lips as he watches your breasts continue to leak for him, the creamy milk a contrast against your skin as he hovers over you, slurping up the spilt milk as it’s still warm on his tongue. He knows he won’t last long, not with all the pent-up frustration and the saccharine taste of your milk on his tongue.

“You make me wanna fuck another baby into you, have these permanently filled with milk,” He groans around your nipple, breath coming out in heavy pants as he feels you wrap your thighs around his hips, angling his cock to have him delving deeper inside your wet, slick heat.

“Katsuki,” You gasped, the familiar sensation already swirling in your pelvis.

“Stuff you so full of my cum you’ll always be round and plump with my child.” He continued, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the swell of your breast, “You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart. So perfect.”

“Kats, I’m gonna—” You mumbled, feeling the coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as he alternated breasts, easing the tension in your chest as he released more of your milk from inside you. The pain dissipated as it was replaced with white, hot pleasure as you began to clamp down around him.

“You’re so pretty, so perfect, taste so good—” Bakugou continued to slur his words as his nose nudged your breast,

Feeling yourself slowly falling into your bliss as

“Come on, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He sucks your nipple hard, causing you to throb around him as you feel yourself tumble into your bliss. Your walls flutter around his cock as he continues his messy pace, groaning at the way your body feels clamping around him, trying to milk him of his release.

Shamelessly searching for his own release as his balls start to tighten, the thought of fucking another child into you has his pelvis throbbing as he imagines you all round and full with his release. Cumming deep inside you with a grunt of your name as he spills hot ropes of cum inside your fluttering walls. Leaning on his forearms as he rides out his climax, fucking his release deep inside you as he imagines you pretty and round with another child. His thrusts slow to a gentle rut as he rests his weight on top of you for a moment, looking down at you with complete adoration as you gaze up at him towing tired eyes.

Bakugou groans when he pulls out of your slick heat, his eyes immediately diving between your thighs to watch the thick, creamy mixture of his release begin to dribble from your stretched hole. Fingers delving between your thighs to push it back inside you as he thinks about giving you another child, if you want— picturing keeping you like this for as long as possible.

“Do you feel better, sweetheart?” His nose nuzzles between the valley of your breasts as you both enjoy the quiet moment alone together, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive mounds.

“Much,” You whisper as Bakugou flicks one of your nipples playfully.

“Finally got my spot back,” He grins up at you from between your breasts as he nips at the soft skin.

“Until your son wakes up,” You smile softly, already feeling yourself succumbing to slumber.

“Better make the most of it then.” Bakugou rumbles as he wraps his lips back around one of your nipples.

#tw:lactation #trigger:lactation #tw:breeding #trigger:breeding #bakugou smut #Bakugou Katsuki smut #bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #mha smut #Bnha smut #Bnha x reader #mha x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #flashing lights

[dearharriet]

hello! Congratulations on reaching 150 followers milestone! Really deserved, girly!

Can I get a🍸with Remus Lupin + Lovers Rock? Thank you so much!

hi!! i’m so sorry this took me so long my love, i’ve had the busiest weekend 😭 thank you sm for the request, i hope you like it! <3 (wc: 859) (cw: implied/attempted use of a roofie/date-rape drug)

If you were less drunk, you’d be abashed about flirting so openly in front of Remus, but you’re not. He’s watching you lean into the man’s advances from the bar booth you’re both sitting in, a mean look brewing behind his eyes. You’re praying to god it’s jealousy. At least then he’d feel something for you.

“Real pretty get-up you’ve got on, babe,” the guy is saying, and you’re just sober enough to know he’s staring at your chest as he says it.

“Looks even better on the floor,” you tell him. It’s a cheap response, but he perks up anyway. Remus spins his beer on the sticky booth table, sighing irritably.

The stranger has a silky smooth voice, one that seems to smooth over other, less admirable traits in your mind. He says, “I can make that happen,” and you hear a promise, not a boast. You also don’t notice in his towering over you that he’s tampering with your drink.

Remus isn’t nearly as entranced. He’s on his feet in a second, whipping the man away from you by the collar of his button-up shirt.

“Hey—?”

Cutting him off with a vicious shove, Remus bites, “fuck off out of here. I know what you are.”

You stand then on wobbly legs, approaching the growing scene. Remus was clearly jealous, but you never assumed he was the violent type. He looks ready to crack teeth at this point, and the man still hasn’t left.

“Remus, what—?”

He turns to you with wild eyes, holding up a hand to keep you at bay.

“You stay there,” he says, and the anger he held for the man has ebbed away. He points to your cocktail on the table. “Don’t drink that, okay?”

Blinking, you frown at him. Something about his behavior makes you uneasy, but he’s your friend. You’d trust him over any stranger.

“Hey,” he snaps, demanding your hazy attention. “Did you hear me? Don’t—”

“Don’t drink it.” You nod.

From there all you can do is watch him shred the poor guy apart until Sirius and James finally notice something is wrong from their place at the bar. By then you have a pretty good idea what happened, and you feel sick to your stomach thinking about it.

James keeps you company while Sirius and Remus get the guy thrown out on his ass, and then they both reconvene at your shared booth. Most of the girls have come to see what happened, too, but Remus shooes most everyone away.

“Fucking pig,” Marlene mumbles, petting your hair gently before leaving a small kiss there. She looks to one of the boys, though you’re too busy picking at your nails to know which one. “I can make sure she gets home?”

“I’ve got her,” he replies, and you’d know Remus’ voice anywhere.

Marlene and the other two boys seem to accept this fact easily, though Sirius stops Remus before leaving.

“Go easy, yeah?” he says. “It wasn’t her fault.”

Remus doesn’t reply, but when he takes James’ place beside you his eyes are much calmer than before.

“Hi, dovey.” His hand comes up to rub your back. “You ready to go home?”

Sniffing, you nod slowly, still quite drunk and lethargic. Remus helps you out of the booth, carting you to the door with careful touches.

“It’s okay, Remus,” you assert, feeling more embarrassed by everyone’s worrying than anything now. “You’re not going to hurt me. I’m fine.”

Remus looks down at you with conflict coating his features.

“That was really close, Y/N. I almost didn’t see him do it.”

“But you did,” you correct. “And thank you, by the way.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. Not for that.”

Pushing the bar door open, he ushers you out into the mild night. It’s not cold, but his arm slung protectively over your shoulders is a relief anyways. Outside the safety of the bar, the man might be lurking somewhere. The thought makes you curl further into Remus, shivering.

“Remus?”

You can tell he’s in the same line of thought as you, because his head is on a swivel, checking behind you periodically. He hums in response to your question.

“If we’re going to my place, would you stay with me? In case he’s following us.”

You’d like to tell yourself the man wouldn’t, but you’re not sure you can put anything past him. Again, Remus appears to think the same.

“‘Course. I'll probably sleep better that way, anyways.”

In your drunken mood, you can’t help the way your heart squeezes at Remus’ doting. It’s a fiery feeling, to be cared for as if you’re an extension of himself, to have witnessed the sharpness of his affection in real time. It’s the barest human decency, but you suspect it was rooted in a much more complex emotion. Or perhaps that’s wishful thinking.

“Okay,” is what you finally say, flagging your thoughts for a later date, when less pressing matters than your safety are on the table. For tonight, it’s enough to let Remus walk you home, and to fall asleep under the warm blanket of his protection.

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

#harriet’s 150 celebration #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus john lupin #request #thank you for requesting! #remus lupin songfic #marauders hurt/comfort #remus lupin hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

[cloudcountry]

the kissing experiment

Genre/Tropes: Practice kissing?

Summary: The Leech brothers request something of you. Won't you help them learn what kissing is?

Author's Comments: hi this is an arospec ace person writing about people kissing. it was a fun little (AWKWARD) experiment so the title also applies to me!!

~~~~~

There was nothing you could think of that would have prompted the Leech brothers to ask this of you. Maybe they found out about your attraction to the both of them, or maybe they were just using you as a silly little plaything to experiment on until they got bored. Maybe it was both. Whatever led them to your dorm this late in the afternoon didn’t matter now, as they were standing right there on your porch, awaiting your response to their proposition like a hunter that had just cornered their prey. A chill went down your spine as they continued to stare, lips stretched into wide grins that couldn’t have looked more sketchy if they tried.

“You...want to experiment with kissing?” you ask, flabbergasted at the unexpected question, “Why in Twisted Wonderland would you ask that? And to me?”

“Come onnnn, Shrimpy. It’s a yes or no question.” Floyd giggles, tongue poking out from between his teeth, “We don’t have all afternoon. you know.”

“Indeed, Floyd is right. It would be a shame if we came all the way here with our humble request only to receive an unsatisfactory answer.” Jade sighs, eyes sharp as his expression fills with mock sadness.

“I never said no.” you mumble, eyes darting to an uninteresting crack in the floorboards to avoid looking at either of them, “I was just asking my own questions.”

“Oh?” Jade hums, index finger pushing your chin upwards until you make eye contact with him again, “I take it that means you’re interested?”

“Maybe I am.” you shoot back, the desperate urge to catch them off guard after coming to you with this ridiculous proposal flaring up.

It works. Floyd cackles beside his brother, eyes narrowing as he stalks closer. Jade looks surprised for a brief moment before chuckling politely, letting you go with a gentle brush of his thumb against your cheek.

“Well Little Pearl, it’s only natural to seek out the object of one’s curiosity, is it not?” Jade coos in a voice as soft as a fuzzy, comforting blanket, “We only want a bit of your time. Won’t you offer us the pleasure of practicing land dwelling affection?”

“Yeah Shrimpy! Don't be mean.” Floyd snickers, shoving his face closer to yours and his brother out of the way in the process.

“Besides...we know you’re interested.” Jade chuckles, taking your hand as if it was made of glass, “We’ve seen the glances you send our way. We’ve seen you staring at the Lounge. You’re hardly sneaky, Little Pearl.”

“And that’s why Shrimpy got caaaught!” Floyd laughs, nuzzling your cheek as his arms snaked around your waist.

“So what do you say?” Jade leans closer, thumb stroking the back of your hand.

“There’s no need to guilt trip.” you lean back, the proximity of the Leech brothers almost suffocating, “You already know my answer.”

“Oh, but we don’t. You could turn us away and break our little hearts!” Floyd quips, pulling away from you just to cross his arms and pout.

Finally free of Floyd’s grip, you back up a bit. They allow you a bit of space, but still stand tall on your front porch, an immovable wall. Shaking your head, you sigh deeply. It’s almost exhausting when they decide to play these games, teasing you as if they aren’t painfully aware of your interest in them.

“If it’s kissing you want, it’s kissing you’ll get.” you say, beckoning Floyd closer.

He bounces right over, looking like a puppy about to receive a treat. You cup his face gently with your hands, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. The touch lingers for a few beats as the tension from Floyd’s shoulder melts away, his wound up attitude ebbing away like the tides of the Coral Sea. The second you pull away his wide eyes crinkle at the corners, all of the excited energy he had before rushing back into his body.

“I got a kiss from Shrimpy!” Floyd cackles, brushing the spot you kissed with his gloved fingers. His sharp teeth are on display as he sticks his tongue out at Jade, wrapping his other arm tightly around your waist again.

“Floyd, be nice.” you sigh, coaxing Jade closer by opening your arms, “Jade, c’mere.”

“Oh? Feeling bold, are we?” Jade coos, swooping into your arms without hesitation.

Instead of answering, you hook your finger under his tie and pull him closer. His body thumps against yours, and if it weren’t for the grip Floyd had on your waist, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Jade looks surprised at how quickly you’d yanked him, and you tried not to let his shock make you too smug. They were known to turn things on people just when they had the advantage (and you knew that better than most people.)

“Can I kiss you here?” you ask, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip.

“By all means.” Jade sighs, leaning into your touch.

You slot your lips against his almost immediately, grabbing Jade’s shoulder with your free hand. His hands find their place on your waist, and he kisses you back with a force that’s powerful, yet gentle. You can vaguely hear Floyd whining beside you, his incessant tugging on your shirt doing nothing to dispel the haze you find yourself in. Jade’s lips are soft—softer than the gentle beams of sunlight caressing your face as the day slips into darkness.

He’s warmer than them, too.

With a shuddering gasp, the two of you part. Eyes wide and lips plump from the kiss, you slowly let your finger slip away from his tie. Jade chuckles at your state, lifting your hand to his lips, and you can do nothing but watch as he presses his lips to the skin while staring holes into you.

“Thank you for that experience, Little Pearl.” he murmurs, kiss-bruised lips still brushing delicately against your skin, “It was most delightful.”

“Heyyy, Shrimpy! I said, don’t forget about me!” Floyd huffs, yanking you more and more insistently towards him, “I want another kiss!”

“If Floyd gets another, I would appreciate another one as well.” Jade smiles, tilting his head as you turn your attention to his brother.

“Yes, yes, sure.” you say, attempting to placate them.

Except it doesn’t work entirely, because Floyd is still grumbling and tugging. You would rather not have him tumble into a bad mood, so you turn to him and yank him into you by the undone tie, just like you did with his brother.

Floyd is far more all consuming, his teeth clinking painfully against yours. You wince but he doesn’t get softer, instead opting to giggle and press his hands into your waist. With the way he holds you and kisses you longer and longer and longer, you’d almost think he was jealous of Jade for taking so much time with you. The thought makes you want to roll your eyes, but you’re unable to spend much more time in your own head as his nails dig into your side and you’re thrown back into reality. That reality being that one of his hands has found its way to your hair, his nails scratching the back of hand in just the right way and for once you actually find yourself relaxing. It’s a beautiful juxtaposition that leaves you smiling against Floyd’s chapped lips.

You pull away with a soft pat on his shoulder and a smile. He smiles back, tongue poking out from between the rows of sharp teeth, but for once you aren’t on edge. Floyd looks so excited, his expression reminding you of the look he has when he dances.

“That was nice, Shrimpy.” Floyd laughs, running his tongue along his teeth, “Gimme another one.”

“Patience, Floyd.” Jade murmurs, whisking you away from his brother, “It’s my turn.”

“No fair! But I want another kiss!” Floyd pouts, reaching to snatch you away.

You sigh, shaking your head at the sibling rivalry unfolding around you.

Oh dear, what have you done?

#auburn's fics <3 #they totally know what it is #i hate them #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #bastard jade leech #jade x reader #jade leech fluff #floyd leech is a silly guy #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #they want their kisses #and they want them NOW!!!!!

[atinycafe]

I NEED HONGJOONG AND A READER WHO'S IN SUBPSACE FOR THE FIRST TIME, HOW WOULD THE AFTERCARE GO (its okay if u dont write for that, you can just ignore my request <3)

warnings: nsfw under the cut, dom!hongjoong, slight dumbification, sub space, use of pet names (pretty, baby, babydoll, sweet girl), protected sex (yay!!!), soft sex, doggy style, 0.9k wrds author's notes: im not uncomfy but im just not very into it so i have no idea if what i wrote acc is enjoyable to people j,ndfcgvh, and also the fact that idk anything about the kink, so this whole thing might be wayyy off topic masterlist

the sea sparkles brightly as the waves sway in a mesmerizing dance. you can hear the gentle sounds of the sea ebbing and flowing against the sandy shore. soft light spills into your summer house, illuminating it, while the balcony is open, allowing the ethereal white curtains to sway in the breeze.

you would coo at the little crabs if you could, as they reveal themselves on the shore. however, the insistent pounding noise behind you forces you to roll your eyes, blurring your vision. cries escape your lips as his hands settle on the small of your back, causing you to arch involuntarily. pressed onto the bed, your hands stretch out in front of you, grasping at nothing, your forearms hovering out of the mattress.

hongjoong's thighs slap against yours, propelling you forward with each motion. he's intense, his painted fingertips exerting firm pressure on your skin, leaving marks behind.

"my pretty baby," he sighs, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. his gaze remains fixated on the way your ass moves on his. biting his bottom lip, he suppresses his moans, not wanting to drown out your sweet whimpers. those whimpers, so delightful, drive him to thrust harder, fueled by pure desire. "you're so good for me, so adorable. i love you so, so much. do you love me, babydoll?"

it takes a moment for the question to register as you melt under his touch, but you manage to slurr out a response, "love you too," causing him to moan aloud. he smiles, enchanted by the slow pitch of your voice, finding you utterly endearing.

"good girl, always listening to me, takin' me so well, so good," he mumbles, feeling his climax building. he senses yours approaching too, as you tremble and writhe, succumbing to a mere state of wet neediness beneath him. "are you close, pretty? i can feel your pussy suckin' me in. such a greedy girl."

simultaneously, you both reach the peak of pleasure, your bodies giving in to exhaustion. you would slump onto the bed, were it not for hongjoong's strong hold on your waist. he withdraws, quickly discarding the condom, tying it off and tossing it aside. he turns you around, carefully examining your face with tender concern shining in his eyes.

immediately, he notices the dazed look in your eyes, your pupils fully dilated, and the post-orgasmic haze reminds him of his past experiences with ex-partners and their subdrop. he never expected it from you. your relationship has been going well for the past six months, the sex relatively vanilla, but hongjoong doesn't mind. not when you look so irresistibly cute beneath him. your inexperience led him to tread lightly with his more dominant side, but it came naturally to him, and unconsciously, you submit to him during intimacy. so, when he sees that familiar unfocused gaze, his body instinctively reacts.

"baby, look at me," he leans in, positioning his face right in front of yours. you offer him a lazy smile, playfully scrunching your nose, and he reciprocates with a gentle smile. "how do you feel, babydoll?"

you mumble something inaudible, attempting to provide an answer. anything will do when your tongue feels too heavy, too clumsy, too uncoordinated in your mouth. you blink slowly, the contact of his hand against your forehead creating a warm, fuzzy sensation in your brain. it blurs the periphery of your vision, allowing you to focus solely on his pretty face.

he's smiling, his teeth gleaming brightly. they seem sharp in the golden light. you feel like you're floating, detached from your own body, much like when the alcohol becomes too much. in both scenarios, hongjoong is always there to ground you.

"can't use your voice right now mmh pretty, tongue feels heavy huh," he remarks knowingly, and your eyes gradually widen as the information seeps into your brain, wondering how he knows. he smiles at your expression and murmurs a soft "cute."

"baby i need to clean you up, can i go get the towels," he asks, adjusting the pace of his words, ensuring they align with your clouded mind's comprehension. you take your time to process, your thoughts still hazy and elusive. but when you realize that his suggestion involves him leaving you alone, even for a minute, a visible sadness etches itself onto your face. you manage to release a small whimper before he soothes you with a hushing sound.

his voice lowers, deep and resonant, as he whispers promises of not leaving you alone. he settles down beside you, his arm forming a comfortable support under his head, and draws you into his embrace for cuddling. he guides your head to rest on his bare chest, the stickiness of your sweaty skin unimportant to either of you. you begin to feel drowsy, but you still crave his attention. so, you maneuver your head to get a glimpse of his face, only to find his chin in your view.

sensing your gaze on him, he tilts his head down until your droopy eyes meet his, shimmering with light. a smile forms on his lips as he raises his eyebrows, questioning you wordlessly. he runs his free hand through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, as if coaxing your brain back into action.

you open your mouth, but no words emerge, and hongjoong can't help but coo at your slightly frustrated expression. he leans closer, his lips descending upon yours, delivering a tender kiss, while softly suckling your bottom lip.

"my sweet girl, fucked you so hard you forgot how to speak."

#sade.requests #need him 2 fuck me dumb #so bad #hongjoong.thirsts #ateez #hongjoong #thirst #x reader #fluff #x y/n #x you #imagines #scenarios #brain rot #smut #prompts #blurbs #headcanons #timestamps #sub space

[titancanvas]

You barely get a chance to greet your boyfriend when he walks through the door, takes exactly four strides and collapses face down on the bed. Peering carefully over the rim of your book you survey his current position, noticing the long and heavy puffs of his chest as it rises and falls.

"Yuuji?"

"Mhm..." come his muffled reply.

You gingerly set the book down on the bedside table before shuffling closer on your knees, a tender hand carding through his light hair and some relief flooding your chest when you feel him relaxing beneath your touch, even going as far to push his head into your touch.

"Long day?"

"Mhm."

You narrowly supress a soft chuckle at his current state before giving his hair a small ruffle. "Get undressed so we can go to bed."

Five minutes and one power shower later Yuuji eagerly slips under the covers, welcoming the warmth of your body and making himself comfortable as he settles in for the night. One muscular arm winds around your waist to tuck you into the side of his body, a curve carved just for you where your figure slotted perfectly, shadows melting together on the sheets.

"You feel like home," he mumbles, press one sleepy kiss after another along the slant of your shoulder. It's clear how tired he is judging by his messy his lips are but it makes it all the more endearing. "Love coming home to you."

By the time he reaches the swell of your cheek you're quick to turn your face away, burying it into the pillow and effectively dodging his goodnight kiss.

Yuuji's entire expression falls and he looks awake as ever the moment realization settles into the grooves of his brain.

Did you just...?

"Does my breath stink? I brushed my teeth..." he mutters and you have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from smiling when you realize that a whine had slipped into his words, sounding much like a puppy who just got scolded.

You feel him shuffling behind you, sitting a little more upright as he leans over and tries to give you a kiss again. You only burrow yourself further under the covers.

If you were to turn around now you should've surely been met with the sight of watery eyes and wobbling lips. You can practically feel the disappointment oozing off Yuuji as he lays behind you, fiddling with the edge of the sheets. He pouts, running scenario after scenario through his mind to try and figure out why you're dodging his kisses tonight.

He took a shower, brushed his teeth. Was it the stubble that was finally growing on his face bothering you? Maybe his lips weren't soft enough — but he had stolen one of your tubs of lip balm the other day because he loved the taste of it so surely it couldn't be that.

It's only when he inhales deeply that sounds far too close to a sniffle that you think you've resisted him enough and finally turn around to face him.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the erratic pitter patter of his heart beneath your palm. "I'm just teasing you, Yu," you murmur, watching as the confusion and mild panic finally subside on his face, slowly ebbing away as it's replaced with relief. "How could I possibly go to bed without a goodnight kiss from you?"

Your words are enough to spur him on and without an ounce of hesitation Yuuji's on top of you, both hands on either sides of your head as he swoops down to kiss you — deeply and unafraid, his lips move across yours with warm familiarity, savoring the way your lips tug into a little smile the longer he kisses you.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little glazed over with sleep but he still manages to mumble, "You'd tell me if my breath stinks, right? Or if I need to exfoliate my lips or something? Or when I need to shave more —"

"Yuuji."

"Huh?"

"Let's go to bed, baby."

#jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x you #yuuji itafori fluff #yuuji itadori drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #⌨️. notepad!