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siempre-bucky · 4 months ago

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hallucinations

Qimir x Reader

summary: Qimir takes quick action when you get sick on Khofar when you start seeing things

wc: 1.6k

a/n: for the anon that wanted some whump... I hope you like it <3 I'm working on requests rn and they're still open for Qimir!

You wanted to like this planet. Khofar was a planet you had dreamed of visiting since Qimir gave you a map of the outer rim. The dense forest made you feel so at home, one with the galaxy—or at least you wanted it to feel this way. Your head pounded with every step you took as you trekked behind Mae and Qimir, your lungs struggling to fill with air. You weren’t sure when you began to feel so dragged down and exhausted, you didn’t feel this way often.

Qimir pulled his pack higher onto his shoulder and looked behind to catch a glimpse of you. His eyebrows knitted together in worry, “You alright?” he asked, tripping over a rock but catching himself gracefully. You looked up with tired dry eyes, they burned as you tried to keep your gaze on him. With a nod, you drew in a breath and powered through to close the distance between you and your friend.

“Fine,” you answered, masking the illness that took over your body. You wanted to crawl back to the ship and bundle up in the small sleeping quarters that barely slept the three of you. This mission wasn’t about you, Mae was eager to please the master and kill the Wookie. Right now you hated the eagerness that was powering her, it made her walk faster.

“You don’t look fine,” Qimir sighed, “we can stop.” He slowed his movements as you entered deeper into the forest, his eyes looking at your feet to make sure you didn’t trip over a rock or exposed tree root on the small ledge you had to climb down.

You raised your hand and put it on his shoulder to reassure him, tempted to lean against him for support as you maneuvered around to get to solid ground. “I’m good. We need to help her find Kelnacca.” He noticed the weakness in your tone, followed by the slight hoarseness that had him wondering when the last time you had water was. “It’s just in front of us.”

The man looked forward, squinting to see what you were talking about. He knew the exact location and you were nowhere close to the cabin where the Wookie resided. He quickly realized that you were so sick you started to see things. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed as it dawned on him. He grabbed ahold of your arm gently to get your attention. You turned to look at him and he was able to take in the sweat on your forehead and the lifelessness in your eyes. “I need you to sit.”

“I’m fine, Qimir. I feel ok.”

Famous last words. A wave of lightheadedness crashed into you, and it made you stumble right into his chest. A chill followed, and suddenly you were transported to Hoth; freezing with no solution. Qimir was warm, the thickness of his coat warmed your cheek for a brief moment before he peeled you off of him. Everything was muffled as he sat you down on a rock, you vaguely heard him call out for Mae. The world spun as you watched him give her an empty canteen and urged her to go get water from the creek nearby. You swore you saw womp rats following her closely as she hastily disappeared into the forest.

You suddenly felt the warmth of his hand hit your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes meeting his. His hand felt like a pillow, holding you steady as you struggled to stay conscious. His face finally came into focus. Qimir was just as beautiful as the day you met him, when he was still a gun runner for the Hutts, and you were freshly recruited by the Master for your set of skills. “I think I’m sick, Qi,” you chuckled, giving in.

“I know,” he sighed, using the side of his sleeve to gently brush the beads of sweat from your forehead.

He looked around the forest anxiously, no sight of Mae and he had lost track of when he sent her. He grumbled something about her always taking her time and cursed her lack of urgency under his breath. Qimir felt you slump over and it instantly worried him. He’d never seen you so sick before. You managed to fight off colds with his remedies and hide your sniffles when you needed to. It hurt him to see you like this.

The world went dark after that, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up to the smell of a familiar remedy. There was something about the spiciness that tickled your nostrils that instantly made you feel better. Qimir made it often when either of you got sick, storing containers of it just in case he couldn’t make it right then and there. He made it the first time for you just months after you met, getting caught in a rainstorm and the doors to the place you were staying wouldn’t budge. You were stubborn and demanded to stay with him after he shouted at you to find shelter while he tinkered with the bolts and screws. You were stuck in bed with a terrible cold for a week and Qimir never failed to bring you the special soup.

You could hear the metal spoon drag along the bottom of the pot, the warmth of a fire soothing the chill you were still stricken with. A blanket had been draped over your torso, you snuggled in deeper to let it come up over your mouth, touching your nose. It smelled of him, earthy and a scent so uniquely Qimir. With a soft groan, you turned your head to the side to take in the room. It would have made a nice shelter if the Master wanted, it was large enough to hold a few people yet it had a charm to it. You felt as if you could live here for a while, fill up that nearly empty bookshelf in the corner, and bring those rusted-over monitors near the dirty window to life again. Maybe just not now though, your body felt as if an entire ship had been dropped on top of you. You didn't want to move, you couldn’t move.

Qimir saw you wiggle beneath the blanket out of the corner of his eye. He quickly poured the soup into a bowl and carefully walked it over to you, kneeling beside the makeshift bed. “How are you feeling?” He placed the bowl on the table beside him and placed the back of his hand on your forehead. You were still burning up he noted, he took his hand and crooked his long pointer finger, letting it drag along the side of your face. Your head followed his touch so that your face was looking at the ceiling. It was almost sensual the way he touched you, slow and delicate, taking you in even in this state. He was thankful your eyes were closed or you might have seen the red flush on his cheeks.

“Like I got body slammed by a Wookie,” you answered weakly. “Was there a Wookie?”

He chuckled a bit and shook his head, hair falling into his face, “No,” he said gently, removing his hand and sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been seeing things all day.”

“Shit,” you cursed with a small laugh. Your eyes finally opened again and you turned your head carefully so it wouldn’t throb. Maybe he was right and you were seeing things because Qimir had changed? The green and brown baggy clothes you were accustomed to were different. He wore jet black sleeveless robes, well structured and they formed to his well-toned body. Had he always been that toned? You let your hand emerge from the warmth of the blanket and pressed your hand against his chest. His gaze was locked on your hand, watching intently as your fingers danced along the folds of his lapels, feeling the surprisingly soft fabric.

“I-I have to go,” he told you, voice wavering as you touched the bare center of his chest.

Your fingers were cold but his skin felt as if it was on fire. Qimir’s watchful eyes flickered over to you and your eyes began to droop closed. He took your hand and placed it gently on your chest, but he didn't let go. Carefully leaning in, he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Stay—” you don’t know what possessed you to say it. You wrapped your hand around his collar again, this time it felt soft like his beloved brown jacket. Another hallucination, but you liked that one. Sure, Qimir had always been handsome, but him in those back robes did you in. Your heart was racing and it wasn’t from the illness.

“Eat that when you wake up please,” he whispered against your warm skin. “I won’t be long.”

You mumbled incoherently and let consciousness slip away as soon as his lips left you. Though it didn’t last long, you woke up once again not knowing how long you slept for. Your eyes slowly opened, and a blurry figure was standing in the doorway. He outstretched his hand, his forearm wrapped in a metal gauntlet that glowed in the moonlight. A large black object flew to his hand.

You blinked once to sharpen your vision.

Twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating again.

The figure had his back turned to you, that object in his hand was a helmet. You watched as he slipped it over his head, his dark hair covered by the metal and he started to levitate inches off the floor. Those robes looked familiar. Qimir, you thought. But then you giggled to yourself—it couldn't be.

You were just—hallucinating again. It had to be.

#qimir #qimir x reader #the acolyte #star wars #manny jacinto

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sinisternymphette · 6 months ago

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everybody loves my baby

an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶

tw: v!olence, sex

✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.

✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.

"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."

he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.

"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"

the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.

"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."

he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.

"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.

✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.

''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.

✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.

✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.

you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.

''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.

✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .

''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.

✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...

✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!

✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header

@sinisternymphette 2024

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bottomcyclonus · 2 years ago

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My sister is a total cunt and around when we were kids, 12 (her) and 15 (me), she became a really big fan of that Jesus guy, but in a ‘if you wear lipstick that’s TOO red you’re clearly a whore who is doing naughty things with the devil’ and ‘all “dark” animals like black cats, snakes, rats, spiders, and bats were sent by the devil himself”. W e had an older home, and the way it was set up is that one of our vents had a chute that went over the porch, and you could look down it and see basically right over the porch itself. This is relevant because I, at the time, really wanted a cat and our parents were considering it. However, cheese cunt (my nickname for her which she hated <3) saw me looking at an adoption page for a black cat. She absolutely lost it and said that I was trying to bring the devil into our home and that I was going to hell and that that cat was evil and going to claw out my eyes in my sleep. We got in a BIG fight over that. By the time we moved out there were still puncture marks in the wall from where she went at me with a fork. Back to the porch and vent. Kind of. I _needed_ to get this bitch, so I recruited two of my good friends who I knew would be ready to commit a fuckery. One of them had a pet snake (which I think she found in her yard and abducted adopted) and she fed him frozen mice and whatnot. Obviously we weren’t going to involve her snake, but the frozen mice? Those were fair game. Her job was to bring the mice and help behind the scenes. My other friend, he’s a big guy, intimidating if you don’t know him, *his* job was to be the devil. We’d found a dead bat in my attic (again old house) and made it look alive with popsicle sticks, then tied it to a string wound through the vent. We planned the fuckery for when our parents were staying at a hotel for their anniversary, so we were home alone all weekend. We had a pizza box as bait outside, with the frozen mice inside arranged in a pentagram. My guy friend was dressed up in a stereotypical grim reaper outfit, big black cloak, white ghoulish face, lantern, the works. We waited around until night, then he rang the door bell and hid, with the pizza box left on the porch, just far out enough that you would have to step outside. Me and my friend were in the bathroom when then happened so that my sister would have to go look. In reality, she was waiting above, ready with the bat, and I was hiding behind the garage door, which was right next to our front door. The moment I hear my sister let go of the door I gently closed it and locked it on her. I heard her scream and the sound of her dropping the pizza box, which was my friends cue to drop the bat on her and dance it around. At this point she’s freaking out and trying to get back inside, screaming and shrieking. I turn off the porch light, and from the shadows across the street, emerges my friend, face dimly lit by the lantern in his hand. I had to muffle my laughter with my fist in my mouth cause my sister is yelling like she’s going to die, which yeah, I can see her thinking that. All my friend had to do was walk across the street and point at her to get her to start crying, and she bolted into our backyard, where she tried to get in through the back door that was unfortunately for her, locked, courtesy of me. We made her stay out there for an hour or so, giving us time to put everything back to normal and sober ourselves up from laughing so hard. Then I let her back in and acted like I didn’t know anything. We got the cat and I named him Pizza.

THIS IS A TRANSFORMERS BLOG

#GOD #its been so long since somebody sent me some WILD ass shit like this #askbox confessional time ig?????#anon #askies #long post

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okwonyo · 4 months ago

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SWEPT ME OFF MY FEET ── them lifting you up。

INTRODUC𝓲NG 𖥔 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f .. r 11OO fluff established relationship 、 kissing skinship use of profanity

ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK

HEESEUNG ｡｡ is very strong. so, of course, when you would tell him that you always loved that scene from ‘dirty dancing’ when the man lifts the woman all the way up (despite not watching the movie), and he tells you that you both can recreate it: you accept.

“are you sure you can catch me?” you would yell at him from afar, making sure he hears you. you get yourself ready to sprint towards him before receiving having an answer.

stretching his arms in your direction, he would reply, “just go for it and you’ll see,” then, you would run to him in full speed. his hands would hold your waist firmly when you get close to him and he would lift you up when you jump.

you would be held in the air for a while before falling directly in his arms. would catch you quickly before you can fall on the floor, thank god.

JAY ｡｡ after a party or a dinner, would make you sit down next to him as he takes off your heels for you after you would tell him that your feet hurt. “has it been hurting for a long time, baby?” he would ask after he would finish, his hand resting on your thigh now.

you would put your forehead on his shoulder, hiding your face while letting a hum that confirms his theory— he saw right through you. would sigh, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you should have told me sooner.”

he would gently nudge you away before getting up. then, would take your heels in one his hands and give them to you before offering you his hand for you to take and help you getting up.

without much of a warning, would slip his arm behind your knees and the other on your back. you would yelp when you feet wouldn’t touch the floor anymore, realizing you are being carried bridal style by your boyfriend.

JAKE ｡｡ “don’t you want to swim a little?” your boyfriend would ask you, eyes wide and shining— puppy like. his desire to go in the sea would be obvious.

after you would tell him over and over that he can go alone, would swear he doesn’t want to go without you. in fact, you do want to go swim as well, getting up, you would sigh; “the water seems cold,” because it’s your only worry.

taking your hands in his, would pull you closer and put your arms around his neck. would lower himself a bit to put his palms on your thighs, “jump,” then would catch you when you do— settling your legs around his waist.

little by little, would walk into the cold water, making sure your body gets used to it before going into it fully. might not let you down even after you tell him you are okay now.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ as the gym rat as he is, would spend most of his time without pushing heavy weights at the gym. would get extremely annoying — endearingly — when he is at your apartment instead of his, during his musculation session day.

you would find him doing russian twists in the middle of your living room two minutes after you woke up, and you would laugh before going to get ready for the day.

“you are not finished yet?” you would ask him, seeing him doing pushups when you come back. “i’m hungry, when are you going to finish?” you would question and a groan would leave your mouth when he would respond ‘in a while’.

so, you would try to make him stop by sitting on his back while he workouts. alas, he would barely budge. “you are the perfect weight,” he would say, a little bit breathless as he would push up. “i’ll use you for hip thrusts next.”

(excuse me, what?)

SUNOO ｡｡ with his arms wide open and a huge smile spread all over his face, would wait for his beautiful girlfriend— which happens to be you— to get off of work.

he would start to get a tad bit worried as he watches several people passing by and leaving your workplace, but not catching even the smallest glimpse of you.

his arms would start to get a little bit tired when he finally hears your voice, calling out for him on top of the stairs right in front of the front door. and would stumble a bit when you jump in his arms from the third to last stair.

would hug you tight, placing a hand on the back of your head and closing his eyes while the scent of your shampoo fills his nose. for sure would not let you down until you reach the car.

JUNGWON ｡｡ being chased and bothered with him as your boyfriend would not be a foreign concept to you. especially to get your attention; pinching you, poking your waist, and the worst tickling you.

this time, he would opt for the three successively. first, would come next to you as you do the dishes, pinching your arms as he asks for some attention. secondly, would poke, not only your waist, but your cheeks too, when you don’t give him a glance. thirdly, would start tickling you right when you finish your chore.

unfortunately for him, would not have the time to do much before you push him away and start running in the apartment, “leave me alone!” you would scream as if you were chased by a monster in the streets— your boyfriend would do everything but that.

when you get in the hall and struggle opening the room’s door, because of the fact you ran and you would be laughing, would sprint to you then lower himself to hug your legs. lifting you up like a bag full of potatoes when he gets up. and, when he would let you fall on the bed, there is no chance for you to escape.

RIKI ｡｡ in the wake of laughing for a good minute after watching you trip on over your feet and fall in the middle of an almost empty street, would genuinely start to worry for you.

“everything happened so fast, i couldn’t catch you, i’m sorry,” he would tell you while helping you get up. “did you break anything?”

with flushed cheeks, because of the fact you laughed too much (he wouldn’t laugh if you didn’t, he is not lame), you would tell him that you are perfectly fine. would squint his eyes, not so sure about that.

kneeling in front of you, and offering you his back, your lover would tell you to hop on. there would be no way for you to refuse— therefore, you will find yourself being piggybacked for the rest of the day.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open ！

(..◜ᴗ◝..) lethal layout, i can’t lie ... thank you for reading, mwah 💕

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cloudybarnes · 1 year ago

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new beginnings

Pairing: theodore nott x reader

Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Masterlist

part two :)

✰ ✰ ✰

“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest.

“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”

Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been.

“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked.

A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”

Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.”

You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”

You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”

Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”

You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.”

Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”

You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”

She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.”

You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo.

But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again.

“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”

“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.”

You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.”

You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed.

She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”

You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped.

✰ ✰ ✰

“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug.

Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you.

Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”

Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny.

“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”

You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”

They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food.

“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you.

Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly.

“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).”

“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.

Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend.

“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.”

You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued.

“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”

Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door.

Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you.

“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”

Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him.

You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship.

“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”

Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”

Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”

You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”

Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”

You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person.

Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you.

“Oi!”

Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo.

“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo.

“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face. “Theo, what are you doing?”

He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”

“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”

You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps.

“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?”

You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly.

“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”

You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.”

“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.”

He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?”

Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall.

You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo.

He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained.

“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant.

Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”

Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup.

You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”

He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”

“Why? You broke up with me.”

Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”

You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”

“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”

Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”

He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”

“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested.

“You wanna be my friend?”

“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.”

Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.

“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.”

#AW SNAP #THERES ONE FROM THAT PROMPT LIST #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #harry potter #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #ron weasly x reader #george weasley #fred weasly x reader #cedric diggory x reader

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ellaa-writes · 8 months ago

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Gym rat König who fucks you in the locker room shower. (not edited)

He saw you first, walking up to the squat machine. Wearing tight black legging and just a sport bra. It was nearing midnight, König only came to the gym at night. Like a creature out of a horror movie, emerging from his crypt to do some weight lifting.

He couldn't stop staring, you must know he was staring. You probably did it on purpose, with the way your dressed, out late at night. Setting your water bottle down beside the machine you.

Watching you has you worked out, König long forgot what he was even doing to begin with. The heavy weights still in his hands, he let them drop to the floor without a thought. A loud thud rang though the gym, making you flinch and reel your head in his direction.

This was his opportunity, pulling at the bottom of his tank. He lifted it up to wipe off the sweat building on his forehead. Making sure his abs and chest were on full display. Hell he even flexed a little just to make sure you were looking. Hook, line and sinker, you snapped your head away as a blush crept up your chest to your face.

Today wasn't leg day, but for you it sure was. König sauntered over to the leg press machine which so happens to be right beside your machine. Giving it a quick wipe down before he looked in your direction and did his signature goofy smile, gummy and all.

"Haven't seen you here before." he called out to you, his accent thicker than usual. He was really laying it all on you. "I've been a few times but usually to busy." you replied back in between grunts. König watched has you worked up a sweat. Noticing your poor form and using that has an excuse to get closer.

"You're going to hurt yourself that way." he said nonchalantly, pointing to your back. You let the weights gently down as you sat facing him. "Leaning forward to much, watch I'll show you." he rose from his machine. Reaching you in one big step, he was so much bigger closer up. Like a skyscraper kissing the clouds, he had a surgical mask over the lower half of his face. But you still heard him like he was whispering in your ear.

You stepped back has König showed you the proper form. Doing one squat before he ushered you back to the machine. Helping you get the bar on your shoulders. His hand on your lower back, so big and wide and warm as hell. His other hand resting on your lower stomach, telling you to squat and you did. Feeling no pain as you did so, König asked "Better?" hands still on you. You just nodded your head, to dizzy to answer.

He stepped away but not far before you called out "If you don't mind, can you do that again. So I can get a better idea." König's heart started to pound as another sleezy smile spread across his face. He could show you a few more moves if you wanted, he said with a raise of an eyebrow.

Lucky for the both of you the gym was quiet dead that night. You, him and three others. He followed you back to the locker room, and into the showers. You shoved him in first, before following after and closing the curtains tight.

Konig had your leg slinged across his shoulder, your back pressed against the shower tile. The hot steam of the water filling the small enclosure. You other leg wrapped around his waist has he pounded your pussy.

He's whimpering and babbling in German, peppering your neck and chest in small kiss and bites. You nails digging into his back, panting like a bitch in heat. His thick cock hitting all the right spots, the tip bullying against your spongy cervix. His magic fingers working the bud of your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.

The door to the locker room swung open, both you and König froze. His cock twitching inside your warm wet pussy. Listening to the sound of someone walking around, rummaging in their belongings before the always started up a shower.

Konig began to lazily pump his cock into you, slow thrusts that made your whole body buzz with need. You whined out causing König to cover your mouth with his hand. Leaning into your ear to shush you. And you tried, oh god you tried.

Letting his hand fall back down between your bodies. Working your clit once again and his thrusts became more focused and hard. The sound of the water pelting against the tiles drowning out the lewd noises coming from your stall.

You were so close, he could feel it. He was right their with you, snapping his hips harshly into your own. He was building you up until it all came crashing down. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your moan, your pussy convulsing around his cock. König could help himself, pumping his thick load into you. Grunting out before he bite his own tongue.

After a few silent moments between you to, the shower a few stalls over turned off. The curtain being yanked open and a few minutes later you bother were alone again.

He slowly washed his cum from your cunt, down on his knees. Looking up into your eyes he asked "Wanna go have a bite to eat?"

Thank you all for 600 followers!!

#cod mw2 #könig #konig #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #konig smut #cod konig #cod könig #könig call of duty #könig x you #Cod #Call of duty #konig call of duty

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luvjunie · 1 year ago

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— braiding his hair

pairing: earth 42!miles x fem!reader

summary: Miles is very particular when it comes to how his hair looks, so he doesn’t let just anyone put their hands in his head. His mom has been braiding it for him since he was in middle school, and he’d found no reason to change routine until you’d randomly expressed interest one day. wc: 702

contains: fluff, fem!reader, envisioned as black!reader but not specified

word bank: “está bien, mi amor” - it’s okay, my love

You were dedicated on teaching yourself how to cornrow/dutch braid specifically for your boyfriend, Miles; having practiced on your little brother a few times before you proposed the idea. And while you could braid normally, you weren’t very well versed in braids to the scalp— those were an entirely different ballgame.

The first time he agreed to sit between your legs, handed you the rat tail comb, and simultaneously reached behind him to tug on his hair-tie and release his hair from the low ponytail it was in, you quickly understood why he kept it braided back. It was massive, and there was so much of it. Even with the sides of his hair faded you were still trying to figure out how it had this much volume. His curls were thick, coily in some places, silky and curled in others, falling just a bit below his shoulders. Hell, you were almost jealous.

It was as if he could read your mind from his seated position on the floor, his back to you, legs criss-crossed and you on his desk chair. “I got a lotta hair, huh?” He nearly felt the act of your hands experimentally hovering over the area, a chuckle falling from his lips before he asked you, “You sure you got it, Mami?” He turned just slightly to peer over his shoulder. “I can always ask my moms to-“

You hastily cut him off, “No, no!” Sounding a little more enthusiastic than you planned, heat spread up the expanse of your throat as you cleared it and sat up straighter, managing to instill some confidence in yourself. “I wanna try.”

And he’s more than willing to let you. You’re his girl after all, basically the only person he trusts other than his mother, so with a surrendered raise of his hands, he nods and leans back once again. “Aight then, do ya thing.”

It took a little longer than some simple braids should, and when you finally finished and reached forward to offer him the hand mirror, you had to restrain from anxiously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip. “How’d I do?” You queried quietly, hands gently resting over his lean shoulders.

You watched closely as he turned from cheek to cheek to look over your work in the mirror, brows raising in slight disbelief his bottom lip sticking out in a manner of approval as he nodded. “Damn, Ima little surprised, can’t lie.” He quipped, giving as much of a smile as someone like him gave. “You sure this your first time doing this?”

“I practiced on my little brother once or twice.” You shifted in your seat, the apples of your cheeks tight from your growing grin.“They’re not nearly as good as how your mom does them, though.” Your head tilted as you examined the plaits.

“No, está bien mi amor. They’re perfect, I fuck with them.” He set the mirror down next to him, leaning his head back to rest on your thighs.

“Really?” You felt excitement bubble in your stomach, heart swelling with pride as he expressed his satisfaction.

“Mhmm,” He hummed, long lashes fluttering up at you. “But what I like more is how you learned how to do it just for me. You gon’ be my new hairstylist, hermosa?” He licked his lips, and instantly you were distracted, his accent clinging onto his words as they rolled off his tongue.

You accidentally tuned out his question for a second, the smirk on his face and the way his eyes held contact with yours so intensely had your mind genuinely trying to wrap itself around how he looked this handsome even while upside down. “Hm?” You blinked away the thoughts, blushing when his impish grin widened, pearly whites peeking at your inability to concentrate. “Oh!- Yes… If you want me to be.” You nodded, a smile painting your face to match his.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works on any other platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!!

#miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles fanfic #earth 42 miles fluff #miles g morales #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv miles

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whatswrong7 · 4 months ago

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been seeing some stuff abt reader being accused of being a rat/mole in the 141 task force and getting tortured by their team who won't believe reader when they say it's not them. But my heart can't handle angst, and I've come up with my own twist on the idea.

You're not on the 141 task force specifically, but maybe another task force? Or maybe you were just a regular soldier. Either way, you were on the field with Simon before he joined the task force, and you'll hang out with him outside of deployment every so often. In your head, you two are friends, and even that may be pushing it. Little do you know how fucking obsessed Simon is with you.

So it makes sense that he's not exactly pleased when he comes back from a month long deployment to find someone has framed you for giving info to enemies. While he was gone, people you'd come to love and trust turned on you without a second thought, not listening to any of your pleas or begging as you were tortured. For 3 weeks, in fact, before the source had been proven faulty, and you were rushed to medical care, barely holding onto your life.

The person telling Simon this didn't even get to finish as they were practically run over as he sprinted to the little ward. There was a line of former comrades and what he assumes is your sergeant looking ashamed outside the room, presumably because you didn't want to see them. Rage burned in his stomach as he took in their faces, his teeth need skin to rip apart, his feet need to crack bone under his heavy boots, and his fingers itched to return everything they'd done to his beloved in triplicate. Later, he reminds himself. His darling needed him right now.

When he swung open the door, and your head snapped to look at him instantly. Betrayal and rage obvious in your expression until you saw who it was. Your brows softened, your lower lip trembled, and your pretty eyes had a glassy look.

Simon quickly made his way over to you, cupping your face in his big hands as he looked down at you. Neither of you said anything as your sad wet eyes met his, until he started getting distracted by the multitude of cuts and white bandages contrasting against your skin.

His head filled with violent thoughts, but when you redirected his gaze to you, it all left his head as he met your lips gently, murmuring comfort and support.

You did eventually get better, and you actually got transferred to the task force that your new boyfriend Simon was in. How lucky. How convenient is it that as the years go by with him, more and more members of your old team mysteriously disappeared. The one who had caused you the most pain was declared missing the day before you and Simons wedding.

Obviously you weren’t stupid, you knew it was him. But rather than be creeped and frightened, you found it incredibly romantic, if not for the fact that he wouldn’t let you help, insisting that you shouldn’t be bothered with the corpses of such filth.

#Dark! Simon #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #Tw yandere #yandere #yandere ghost #yandere simon #yandere simon riley #Yandere x reader

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slytherinslut0 · 27 days ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 11th. blaise - mirror sex, body worship.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: writing this was detrimental to my health. blaise is a man. a MAN. you’re having a terrible day, your boyfriend knows what you need to make it better.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, teasing, begging, doggystyle, dirty talk, praise so much praise, body worship, soft dom blaise, pet names, the usual nasty shit you'll find this month.

"Yeah that's what I said...he didn't listen to me, though. Of course."

Parchment crinkled under the weight of your hand, quill scratching faintly as your boyfriends voice hummed in the background—an effortless drawl that filled the room like low music. You barely caught the words, caught up in the mechanical rhythm of your writing—but that didn't stop him from droning on, stretched out like a relaxed cat on your bed—one leg bent, both hands tucked behind his head, his gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling's quiet expanse.

"And? What happened?" You asked, finally letting the quill drop, grimacing at the ink smudged across your fingers.

"Detention," he said, clearly amused, "cleaning rat barrels for a week."

You managed a smile, but it was small, fleeting—more like a shadow of the real thing. Blaise noticed, of course he did, but he let it linger undisturbed, as if waiting for the right moment to ask what was really wrong. His stories were always an offering, an attempt to pull you from the depths of a day that felt as heavy as the sky before a storm—which usually helped, but today, even he couldn't shake the weight entirely.

You rolled away from your desk, chair wheels creaking until you reached the mirror. There you were, reflected back at yourself—no makeup, hair half-tumbling from the ponytail you'd given up on hours ago, the lines under your eyes telling a story you didn't want to read. You sighed, lifting a hand to touch the flyaway strands, knowing it wouldn't help. You were a bloody disaster.

"What're you lookin' at, baby?" Blaise was behind you before you even realized it, his warmth filling the space behind your chair, his arms snaking around your waist with the same natural ease as breathing. "Did I tell you you look beautiful today?"

You exhaled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in the glass—

"Don't lie, Blaise," you muttered, the exhaustion making your voice heavier than it should've been. "I look a mess."

"Not a lie," he whispered back, his lips so close you could almost taste the mint on his tongue. His hand lifted, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down the side of your face like it was something sacred, like you weren't just a tired girl with too many thoughts. "You're always beautiful...so, so beautiful."

The heat from his words bloomed in your chest, a slow burn, even as the weight of the day pressed heavier. It felt as though the reflection was mocking you—this version of yourself you could barely recognize, worn down by everything that had gone wrong.

"I can tell when something's bothering you," he pressed on, his voice drawing you back, patient and unhurried. His fingers made soft circles on your stomach, waiting, coaxing. "Wanna tell me?"

"Nothing's bothering me...I just.." you shook your head, the words coming out on a breath, too small to carry the weight of what you meant. "I just had a bloody terrible day."

He hummed, thumb grazing your skin. "How terrible?"

"The kind that makes you feel like the universe is against you," you whispered, gaze falling, unable to look at him while your voice cracked. "I'm sorry—I know you wanted to go out tonight, but I just—"

"Shh—hey, don't do that," he interrupted, his fingers tilting your chin, forcing your eyes back to his in the mirror. "I don't care about going out. I care about you. We don't need to be anywhere else. I've got everything I need right here, baby. Okay?"

Merlin—your heart clenched, the ache reminding you just how easy it was to fall in love with him—and how you managed to do so, all over again, every single day. Blaise always had this way of making you feel like the center of the world, even on days when you felt like you were disappearing from it.

A small, trembling smile ghosted across your lips, and you nodded. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He nudged your chin gently, brushing more stray hair from your face—he never once took his fucking eyes off of you. "You're so fucking beautiful, babygirl...how are you all mine..."

A sigh escaped your lips as his fingers moved to massage your shoulders, his lips finding their way back to the curve of your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your skin. The tension in your body began to melt, replaced by something warmer, softer.

"Messy hair, no makeup...you're a fucking dream," he whispered. "Every morning I wake up...and I still can't believe..." his hands trailed down your arms, a slow blaze of fire, grazing over your belly before they curved up your chest. "...that all of this...is all for me..."

Your head tipped back, a soft whimper slipping from your lips as he pressed himself closer. One of his hands slid back up, fingers curling around the base of your throat, his thumb stroking the side of your neck. He groaned softly against your temple, other hand still pawing at your chest.

"Look at you," he rasped as his eyes met yours again in the mirror. You could feel his gaze tracing the outline of his hand wrapped around your throat. "Tell me you know you're beautiful."

Your heart was racing, breaths coming in shallow bursts as the intensity of his touch, his words, filled the room. He was crowding over you, pressed against the back of your chair, his hands insistent but not frantic, like he had all the time in the world—

"I know," you whispered. "You tell me every day..."

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. "Mhm…and I'll keep telling you…because I don't think you get it yet...just how truly beautiful you are…”

Your lashes fluttered, eyes heavy beneath the weight of his gaze as his fingers moved lower, the buttons of your shirt parting effortlessly, baring the delicate lace underneath.

His jaw clenched, hunger flickering behind his eyes, his touch roughening with it. “…and just how lucky I am... to get to touch you like this."

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, your back arched, baring yourself to him with a shivering sigh. His hand around your throat tightened, not too much, just enough to remind you he held you, that in this moment —this skin—belonged to him.

His other hand moved across your chest, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric, kneading, coaxing your heart to race under his palm.

"I'm a better man because of you," he whispered, lips ghosting over the pulse at your neck. “...because you make me want to be."

Your whimper came unbidden, warmth flooding your veins as his eyes never left yours—devouring you through the glass. This wasn't just about touch. It was something Blaise always made sure you felt in this relationship, the thing tethered between you—the fulfilment of a need to be seen and a need to be known.

"Look at you." His lips tilted in a breathy smile, dripping with reverence, with something sacred as his hand roved over your chest, taking his time. "Perfect. So fucking perfect."

Both big hands fell to massage your tits now and a small, broken sound escaped you—helpless against the onslaught, your body betraying your efforts at control. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to stem the flood, but it was useless. Blaise, like this, was unrelenting, determined to make you remember this moment, every whisper, every touch. His voice was an echo you'd hear in your dreams.

"Blaise..." his name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Gods.”

"Open those pretty eyes for me, babygirl..." he purred as his teeth grazed the curve of your neck. You obeyed with a shiver—your reflection pure chaos — a mess of need and want, heat pooling low in your belly, an ache between your legs you couldn't ignore. Blaise hummed. "I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what I see."

His hands slid lower, skimming the curve of your hips and settling on your thighs. You watched as he moved with deliberation, savouring the way your skin shivered beneath his touch. He shifted your legs wider, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher until it bunched around your waist. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you weren't sure who was falling apart faster—him or you.

"Fuck," you moaned, barely holding onto the sound, feeling it slip past your lips like a breath. "Blaise.."

With a satisfied smile, his eyes flicked to yours and you noted the way his breathing shallowed—admired the way his fingers slipped along the insides of your thighs, tracing the soft skin without haste. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you bit down on your lip, fighting to keep your eyes open.

A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest as he pushed your skirt up further, exposing your underwear in the reflection.

"That's my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. "These thighs...mm, fuck...so soft.."

His fingers dragged back down, agonizingly slow, tracing your thighs again.

You shuddered. You knew just how needy you sounded but gods—"Blaise, please..."

Blaise knew too, and of course he just chuckled, lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, his teeth catching on the fabric there. The nip was gentle at first, but just enough to make you gasp, your hips jerking reflexively—and you watched his eyes flash, lashes fluttering—

"Fuck...these hips," now he was growling, his nails biting into your skin. "The way you roll them...torture, pure torture... just to make me give you what you want..."

Your breath hitched again. You were a squirming mess, now—each fucking word a slow burn that licked at every nerve.

"Is that so bad?" You whispered, though the words barely left your mouth before a soft moan interrupted them. "Making you…give me what I want...?"

His laugh was rougher this time, his breath searing hot against your ear. One hand moved again, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear—and you realized you were holding your fucking breath—meeting his gaze in the mirror, wide and wanting, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

"Not so bad...when I want to give it to you..." his fingers danced over your clothed cunt—light, taunting, threatening to give you everything you craved but holding just shy of it. Your hips rolled again, involuntarily. "But absolutely disastrous," his fingers traced higher, the ache of wanting made your pulse thunder. "...when I'm trying to make you wait."

You whimpered, snuffing a groan in your throat, and he smiled—watching the effect, his jaw falling open when he grazed over your clit through the fabric and you moaned loud—shameless.

"Gods—Blaise, please—" you were so fucking desperate now. Heat scorching your skin. Eyes squeezed shut. He was going to kill you, you were sure of it. “No more teasing—“

"Eyes open." He husked, bringing one hand back up to cup your jaw. "You close them and I'll stop. Keep being good for me, baby..."

You whinged—meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, lust blown pupils swallowing his irises. You watched yourself—his arms curled around you, strong and firm—long, slender fingers finally, fucking finally, giving you what you want—slipping under your underwear, fingertips kissing the sensitive lips of your throbbing cunt.

"Good girl...so good for me..." he muttered, slicking a single digit between your folds, grazing your clit. That did it—blinded with relief, you whinged, moaning deep in your chest. "Oh fuck, you're so wet...you need this, don't you, baby..."

"Yes—Gods—" you held his eyes in the mirror, hips jerking toward his touch. "Need it...need you..."

"So sensitive f'me..." he whispered in your ear, brushing the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. He kissed at your jaw. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that...that you need me..."

"Fuck—I do—always—" the words bled out, unfiltered. "Always need you."

Blaise shuddered, you could feel his hips rocking gently against the back of the chair as his fingers found your clit, indefinitely this time, and began drawing tight, frantic circles over it. Your back crested, your head falling back just slightly before you remembered what he said and returned your gaze to his in the mirror—he was watching you, body crowding yours like he was preparing a meal—and you spread your legs wider, noting the entire mess he'd made of you in minutes.

"Beautiful," he cooed, jaw tensing as you gripped his wrist—one hand shifting to grope your chest. "Messy girl...m'dying to get inside you..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Blaise—baby—please..."

Wetness soaked your thighs—coated his fingers as he dipped lower and pushed two inside you, crooking them deep. The reaction was involuntary—you cried out, ground your hips into his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, wanting—no, needing more. He groaned, squeezing your breast harder than you're sure he'd intended—teeth sinking into your shoulder in a futile attempt to compose himself.

"Fucking hell—that's it, baby—" his thumb twirled your clit, fingers driving deep—bliss burned your eyes, and you moaned. "Soaked and still so fucking tight...fuck.."

"M'gonna—I need you—" you were babbling, lost in sensation, coherent thoughts banished to the perimeters of your mind. "Inside—pleasepleaseplease—need you—"

"Cum first," his hand on your breast slipped up, tangling through your hair and nudging your face toward his—his lips found yours, soft and tender. "Wanna' make you feel good..."

Pleasure flooded you, muscles collapsing as you succumbed to it—Blaise kissed you again, holding you there, tongue delving into your mouth while he rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumped his fingers deeper.

"I...oh, Gods—already feel s'good..." you moaned into him, and he jerked you harder to his body, tongue massaging yours while his plush lips worked over your mouth. "Mm—fuck—s'good—"

He groaned. "Mhm—cum for me."

And then you did—every nerve in your body ignited at once. The obscene, wet sounds of him pumping his fingers into you filled the room, a rhythm that matched the frantic pulse in your ears. His mouth smothered the desperate cries of pleasure that fought to break free as your body convulsed, writhing against him. Your hips bucked, helplessly seeking more, fingers digging into his wrist like anchors as your entire world spun wildly out of control. He was both your rock and your undoing—keeping you tethered to earth while hurling you into the stars.

It felt like you were suspended in that ecstasy forever, the air leaving your lungs in shattered gasps, until, at last, your breathing found its rhythm again. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, his own breath shaky, eyes dark with hunger. He brought his slick-coated fingers to your lips, pressing them past, and you groaned as you took him in, suckling greedily.

"You like that?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against your spine. You moaned in response, your tongue swirling around his digits, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of yourself. His other hand moved, urgently, his belt coming undone and echoing through the room as he freed himself, groaning, "Fuck."

Blaise had lost his composure completely—you didn't need to look at him to know it. In an instant, you were on your feet, his hands pulling you up as he kicked your chair out of the way, rolling into the wall with a thud. You turned your head to look at it but his lips crashed into yours, both hands cradling your face as he sank to his knees, dragging you down with him. The hardwood floor beneath you was cold, but his touch—his touch was a wildfire, scorching every inch of your skin, setting your blood to boil.

You moved instinctively and gasped as your fingers found him, warm and hard in your palm, twitching at your touch. He growled low in his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you stroked him, kneeling together on the floor, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. The moment stretched, unbearably tense, until with a swift motion, he spun you around, turning you to face the mirror.

His hands were everywhere—on your hips, sliding down your thighs, grazing the curve of your waist—pulling your skirt higher as he met your eyes over your shoulder in the reflection—

"Look at yourself," his fingers tightened on your hips, guiding you back against him, his length slicking between your thighs, grazing against your heat. "See what you do to me."

You gasped, melting into him, tightening your thighs around his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Blaise exhaled, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

"Blaise—fuck—please..." your cunt clenched with anticipation, heat at your cheeks as you watched yourself in the mirror, desperately trying to tip your hips so he'd slide in. "Please, fuck me—"

Your voice was ruined. Music to his ears. Blaise could never deny that begging.

"Shit, baby..." he pressed in, leaning you forward until you were resting on your elbows in front of the mirror—seething as his girth stretched you open—splitting you wide in a way that made your eyes roll. He pulsed at your entrance, taking his time, letting you bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, his were lips parted, chest working with broken breath. "So goddamn tight..."

"Fuck," you moaned, unbridled, his hands bruising your hips as he picked up the pace. "Yes—mm—Gods, yes—"

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Blaise was the most patient man you'd ever met, until he wasn't. He groaned, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps—you were captivated, unable to think or speak or do anything other than watch—fire stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge—you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself before gracing your ass with a soft smack, piercing your cervix.

"Sexy little thing. All fucking mine." He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. "You like that, hm? Watching yourself get fucked?"

You whimpered, neck aching with the force of his grip, nails digging into your palms as he drilled you. The switch in his demeanour was dizzying. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide—you could hardly focus on his words—

"Yes!" You managed. "Fuck—yes—"

He groaned, fucking faster—his gaze ravaged you, wandering over every inch of your reflection before stopping at your jiggling chest. His hand slipped down from your hair to grasp a breast—squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in his huge palm, his other hand snaking down around your thigh to swirl over your clit, and you choked—a noise wrenched from your lungs far louder than you'd have liked.

"Fuck—fuck—" his hips moved erratically. He was getting close. So were you. "Tight—squeeze me s'good—"

You whinged. He swirled his fingers faster. "Blaise—m'gonna—cum—"

It descended upon you—the promise of oblivion—as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, entire body shaking with the pistoning of your boyfriends hips.

His eyes were still on yours, reverence inside them, worship.

He grunted. "Yes—fuck, cum on my cock, baby—let me feel you—"

It was a command that shattered all thought, a primal cry of ecstasy that ripped through you, overtaking every nerve, every vein, every muscle in your body. Your limbs trembled, thighs shaking as the pleasure coursed through you, molten, burning under your skin. You were less than halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth—barely picking up on your boyfriends groans and moans in your ear as you squeezed and milked his cock through your climax, fucking you deep until he couldn't take it anymore and erupted as well—pouring his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty.

Swallowing hard, you collapsed onto the floor, your chest heaving as he pulled out, leaving you breathless and trembling. His hands, still warm from the heat of your skin, gently held your arm as he sank down beside you. Without a word, he tugged you against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a calming rhythm against your back. His fingers threaded softly through your hair, untangling the remnants of tension as the two of you lay there, catching your breath.

After a few moments, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, the touch so tender it made you melt all over again. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving your lips, all the stress that had plagued you earlier dissipating into nothing.

"Maybe I should have bad days more often." You smiled through an exhale.

"If this is what it takes to fix them," he murmured with a smirk, his voice deep and gravelly from exertion, "then I'm more than willing to be your remedy, anytime."

You hummed, a huff of a laugh slipping out as you traced lazy shapes on his chest—inhaling his scent with each breath. You loved this man. Loved that he never failed to make you feel so goddamn beautiful, so special, so needed.

"Seriously though," you whispered after a while, your cheek pressed to his chest, "thank you. For this. For knowing exactly what I needed."

His fingers stilled in your hair, a quiet hum of understanding in his throat.

"I always know what you need, baby," he said, his voice soft, filled with something more than just desire, something warmer. "And I'll always be here to give it to you."

#SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER👻#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #harry potter #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherinboys #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x reader #blaisezabini #blaise zabini #blaise x reader #blaise zabini smut #blaisezabinismut #zabini #slytherin smut

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i-arch-my-backula · 5 months ago

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Louis and Lestat's reaction to seeing their s/o covered in blood

I did this on Halloween last year for horror characters, which will be getting a part two soon, but I thought, why not do this for more vampires I'm in love with. I'm trying to get back into writing more often and I hope that this will help get the ball rolling. This is also for the 1995 movie, I haven't seen the show.

Warnings: Blood drinking, suggestive content (nothing explicit), reader is covered in blood, Lestat is a freak, not proof read

Lestat De Lioncourt

It's your first feed since being turned. Lestat found the perfect candidates for you and him to share on this lovely night. He soothed your hesitancy and promised it'll be ok. After all, you have to eat to live.

Lestat has been a vampire for centuries, so he knows how to get away mess free from his meals, you on the other hand, aren't quite as skilled at that yet. So as Lestat sucks the blood from his victim, he looks over at you and finds that you're drenched in blood, he can't help but smile to himself.

He finished his meal as you keep going, more blood gushing from your victims neck into your mouth and onto your clothes and face. Lestat has to gently pull your meal away from you, reminding you not to drink dead mans blood.

But good lord you're a sight to behold. Sitting on the ground, the lower half of your face smeared with blood, your clothes soaked in it too, Lestat can feel himself getting aroused just at the sight of you like this. Your hair messy, your clothes slightly opened, the look in your eyes, it's almost too much to handle.

But Lestat, being the gentleman that he is, has to help you clean up. It's not his fault that cleaning you up just so happens to mean making out with you so hard he almost breaks your nose while he licks the blood from your face. Oh and if any blood seeped through your clothes and onto your skin, you bet he's going to lick that off you too.

You blessed him with the sight of you covered in blood and you expect him to not immediately be a freak about it? You clearly don't know anything about Lestat.

Lestat is going to be himself and try to get you that messy every time you eat. He can get someone to wash out your clothes or he'll just get you new ones, it doesn't matter, he sees you covered in blood and he feels his undead heart come to life once again.

Louis De Pointe Du Lac

Louis didn't turn you, but he found you, out at night, crying with hunger, and he knew he had to help you. He's past the point of eating rats and feeling catholic levels of guilt about being a vampire. So he leads you to your first meal.

He has to verbally tell you to be careful as you drink from the person he found you. Because this is your first time drinking from someone, you're very messy with it, any blood that didn't make it into your mouth, made it's way all over your clothes and face.

If you have longer hair Louis will be a gentleman and hold it back for you as you feast. He stays silent the whole time, just letting you get your fill and adjust to this new found hunger being a vampire brings.

Once you're finished and you push your victim away from you, Louis sees just how covered in blood you are. He hates to admit it, but he's obsessed with your look. The red staining the lower half of your face and clothes, your hands covered in blood as you start to lick them clean, God damn you Y/N don't you know what you're doing to him?

Louis won't lick the blood off of you like Lestat did, he's not that big of a freak, but he will lead you into the bathroom and help you clean yourself up, that is until he has to step away because he knows what seeing you like this is doing to him.

If you strip in front of him he could care less, all he cares about in that moment is seeing you in your state of being drenched in blood, having it all over your face and body like that, it drives him mad. If only he could take a picture of you like that.

Unlike Lestat, Louis won't intentionally try and get you all covered in blood again, but he won't teach you how to be careful with drinking blood either. You can't blame a man for wanting to see someone as attractive as you covered in blood as much as possible.

#lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #interview with the vampire x reader

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just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace · 1 month ago

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Remade (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which you nurse Sauron back into his physical form, eager to be reunited with your great love once more

Warnings: I somehow managed to write fluff with goo!Sauron, I guess? You hold and kiss goo!Sauron. You suffer a minor injury by goo!Sauron. You get animals and one person killed to feed goo!Sauron. Heavy make out and implied smut (with non-goo!Sauron). Can you tell I love writing the words ‘goo!Sauron’?

Note: Yet another Sauron x evil!reader fic cause I can’t stop apparently. Can be read as a prequel to the others or as a stand alone.

“Oh, my love,” you breathe out, “what have they done to you?”

What have they done indeed. For you are speaking with the one that is your love, your husband, your very soul—but if he hears, or even understands, he cannot show it. What’s left of him has no mouth no speak, no arms to wrap around you at long last, after an eternity of separation. What your tearful eyes are looking at is a black, amorphous mass, no larger than the heart hammering within your chest, writhing helplessly on the ground.

But it is him. Of that, you are certain.

When you felt his presence again, it was so faint you thought you were dreaming it. Nothing but a glimmer of darkness in the back of your mind, weakly calling out in agony. But as you searched your feelings, reaching out with every sliver of power you could muster, you found that it was real.

You found him.

Long had you travelled since, guided by the unseen thread connecting you to him. Until at last, it had led you into the heart of a mountain where his presence was so strong, it felt as though his skin was beneath your fingertips.

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Not until a sharp squeal had caught your ear, and you had found the source of it to be a rat being devoured into the blackness of a small, but lethal predator. At once, you had understood, and nearly fallen into despair. But in the end, you reminded yourself—he has endured. You have been reunited. That is all that matters.

Slowly, you kneel at his side. The mass ripples like the surface of water under a light breeze, and it gives you hope that, somehow, your presence is known to him. A sole rivulet of him begins to slip towards you, painfully slow. No wonder he has been in this state for so long, helpless to nourish himself lest some unfortunate creature stumbles upon him in the dark.

“I am here,” you whisper as you reach out. “I am—”

The moment your fingertips touch his cold, viscous form, black tendrils of him latch onto your hand, greedily clawing at your wrist. You gasp at the unexpected force of it, the searing sting where the liquid-like matter solidifies to dig sharp needles into your skin. Beads of your blood emerge, and he swallows them into himself with hunger.

You stare in awe as he grows ever so slightly larger. A twisted part of you is elated to be the object of his craving once more, even if he is trying to devour you whole. Especially then.

Unfortunately, that would not do in the long-term.

You shush him gently, caressing him with your free hand as though he were a purring kitten. Instantly, a tendril of him latches to one of your fingers, but you give him a firm squeeze.

“Shh!” you say sharply, fingers sinking into the soft surface of him as you reach out with your mind as well, nudging at his. “Easy, love,” you coo. “Easy. You know this hand. You know me.”

His mind is a mess—mad with hunger, alight with rage, lost to despair. But you keep caressing it with yours, tenderly bringing to the surface his memories of you. His love. His wife.

His grip on you weakens then. He deflates, withdrawing himself from your wounds, and you are left with a soft, pliant mass, which you delicately scoop into the palm of your hands. He rocks slightly against your skin, almost as if caressing it—and through your bond, the ghost of his regret reaches out to you.

“Do not fret, my love,” you murmur, smiling gently. “All will be well now.”

And so you go to dwell in the forest. At first, you bring him small things, no larger than he is himself—insects and rats, the occasional snake. The venomous ones seem to be quite nourishing, aiding in his growth more visibly than the other animals you feed him. Still, the progress is slow, and could not be endured without a great deal of patience and love. Fortunately, you lack neither.

Days turn to weeks, perhaps months. You don’t keep count, nor do you miss the comforts of the Elven realm where you had dwelt for years, waiting on the day your husband might return. A tent and your skills are more than enough when you finally have your love by your side, even if he is... temporarily different. You always keep him close, cradling him protectively at night and speaking loving words to him throughout the day. And in his own way, with ripples of his form and distant echoes of his slowly recovering mind, he holds onto you.

Eventually, he grows large enough for you to embrace at night, and develops a certain manner of breathing that feels as though you’re resting your head upon his chest. Its rise and fall is odd, ragged and irregular, but it brings you great joy nonetheless. With time, you bring him larger game, watching with grim amazement as deers and wild boars are slowly devoured into the beloved black mass that still is your husband. After a time, he grows nearly limb-like extensions, allowing him to more easily crawl around or reach out, and you often wake to find yourself in the closest thing to an embrace he can manage in this state. It never fails to make your heart soar, and he shudders as you press loving kisses to the parts of his surface closest to you.

So the days pass, until it’s time. Between your own instinct and the shape of his thoughts, not quite spoken but slightly more focused through your bond, you know he’s strong enough to finally regain himself completely.

But for that, he will need something more than an animal.

It’s easy enough to stop the first wagon you see passing by, acting confused and lost and asking for direction. The woman at the reins, though half-drunk, is even gracious enough to offer that she give you a ride to the closest village. You decline, of course. Your purpose was never to climb into the wagon yourself.

It was to halt it long enough for your husband to slither inside from the back.

It’s barely a few seconds after the woman has bid you a good journey and gone on her way that the wagon halts yet again—this time, with a piercing scream from its occupant. The wagon shakes, its horse breaking loose and galloping away.

Then, silence settles. From your angle, you can’t see inside. Your feet are glued in place, your breath barely there as you watch and wait. You’ve been waiting so long that now, so close to the end of your suffering, each moment feels neverending.

Finally—finally—a man emerges from the back of the wagon. He takes his time putting one bare foot, then the other, down onto the snow-covered ground. He takes in his surroundings, as though opening his eyes to the world for the first time. Then his gaze lands on you, and his lips curl into a smile filled with relief.

And you know, you’ve always known, but it feels as though you only then realize that this is not a man. Or an Elf, or a Dwarf, or any other being of less than godly nature. It is him. Remade into a form with eyes, and hands, and flesh, same as your own.

Your feet carry you towards him blindly as you stare and stare, almost unable to believe that you are finally standing close enough to touch once more.

“I would not blame you,” he says, his unfamiliar voice rough from lack of use, “if it was you who failed to recognize me now.”

But you know it’s absurd. His appearance may not be as it used to—his hair is shorter, darker, his cheeks covered in stubble, his features nothing like the ones you knew—but there is no form he could take you would not recognize, not as long as your mind still served you. His had been broken, unamde, when he had begun to feed on you as he would any other stranger. None of that matters now.

“This is... different,” you murmur, greedily taking in every inch of him that isn’t covered by the rags he’s wearing. His chest is partially bared to your eyes, and both of your breaths shudder as you lay your hand over his new heart, the smattering of hair there delightfully rough beneath your fingertips. You gaze there for a moment, mesmerized by the sight, then lift your eyes to meet his. The curls that fall in his face are so endearing your chest aches as you brush one aside.

“I love it,” you breathe out. “I love you.”

A dam that had been built over years of longing shatters at your words, and your lips meet his furiously in a long-awaited kiss. His looks may have changed, but his taste is the same, and so is the desire that overwhelms you to the point of insanity. You’re falling into each other, clawing at each other, crumbling to the ground in an unceremonious tangle of limbs. The snow is cold against your back, but your husband is warm and solid above you, and your world becomes reduced to him and him alone.

You whimper when he suddenly pulls away, chest heaving as he gazes down at you with raw yearning.

“You came for me,” he says, breathless with elation.

“Of course I did,” you retort, nearly indignated. As if you would do anything but. He goes to kiss you again, but you wrap a hand around his throat and hold him back. Mischief dances in your eyes as he glares and you scold, “And in return, you nearly ate me.”

His eyes darken, and you almost moan at the sight alone.

“I still wish to,” he growls, prying your hand away from his neck and diving in to devour yours instead. “All those years I hungered...” he speaks between ravenous licks and bites of your skin, making you writhe and whimper beneath him, “to feel you once more... even when I could no longer remember... what it was I hungered for...” He lifts his head, wild eyes boring into yours as he lays his hand upon your chest, relishing your heartbeat as you had done his before. “My love,” he pleads, voice trembling with need, “join me in flesh. Let me feast upon yours. Devour mine. Remind me what it is... to feel.”

The last time you felt such unbridled joy was so long ago, you can’t even remember it. And either way, you doubt it held a candle to the bliss bursting within your soul in this moment. This is all you ever wanted. This makes every single moment of torment, past or future, worth it.

“Feel me, love,” you offer most sweetly, your lips brushing his with the last words you speak before you consume each other whole, “Feel everything.”

Next fic with same reader -> Tides of fate

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power

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byuntrash101 · 4 months ago

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realistic sex with san

san x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. happy sannie day. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.

i feel like san isn’t the pursuing kinda guy. he’s really shy at the beginning, especially if he’s crushing on you. since he’s a cancer baby ♋ he would actually avoid you/ignore you.

At first you would just think he just does not care about you, not necessarily hate you because he would seem so laid back about it but in reality his heart is racing when he sees you and it’s just easier for him to avoid you

so why doesn’t he just go for it? what??? no! you’re crazy? what if you weren’t interested? he would never be able to accept the rejection. so he’d rather have this crush stay as it is. unless you take actions into your own hands? (spoiler it's what you’ll have to do to score this man)

at some point the others are tired of seeing san snob you when you’re around then gush about you when you’re away so one of the member just spills the tea (spoiler alert it was either joong or woo because they were sick of it or yeosang but he didn’t mean to)

so with that new knowledge you’ll just have to make your move

i think he has a careful/cautious nature so he doesn't fold immediately because you could be playing games we never know but he definitely doesn't take long before he gives in because he’s head over heels and can't resist you

after a while, if your actions and words are consistent things change. he gets confident and he’s all over you all the time.

he’s pda line with mingi and woo

he just loves to have you near him, he wants to feel that you are near.

if there’s people around he wont care he just wants to hold your hand or for you to sit on his lap (if he’s feeling naughty he will even sneak his hand on your ass, give a light quiet little spank or just squeeze it in his large gym rat hand because this man just loves your ass)

he’s perfectly fine with you doing your own thing. he doesn't require to be doing every single little thing together but he wants to stroke your thigh when you’re reading and he’s watching his cheesy romantic kdrama. because yeah san is a whole ass romantic. the hopeless kind.

but he’s also realistic. he knows loves comes from trust and communication and oh boy he just knows how to talk to you. even if he’s a little susceptible sometimes (i think he is a sensitive boy thats who’s hiding being the muscle mountain) he always communicates with you effectively. and that's because of his nurturing nature (cancer baby ♋)

At the end of the day san wants to coddle you, cherish you, LOVE YOU.

he has so much love to give. i mean he said it himself he grew up receiving a lot of love so he knows how to receive it and give it

speaking of it love isnt san’s only infinite resource

i feel like san has also a lot stamina probably the highest out of all of them doesn't mean he has the highest sex drive (that’s probs mingi or joong) but when he’s in the mood he can go for a looooonnng time he is tireless, he is relentless

for instance he never taps out first. when your body is exhausted and your shivering and trembling and he’s came thrice already you have all the rights to assume he is done but then he folds your legs up on your chest again and you whimper because you don’t know if you can take it anymore so he whispers “please baby i just need one more, okay? will you be my good girl, just one more time?” you moan and arch your back as he slides in and he shivers from slight overstimulation. but nonetheless you look up to him through your wet lashes and nod. so he instantly starts to sharply snap his hips against yours, making you whimper meekly. “that's right baby. I knew you could do it, you’re doing so well” he whispers as he gently holds your chin up to bend down and kiss you.

that would be a common occurrence if he’s domming BUT! san is a switch especially with you he likes to hand out the reigns once in a while because he trusts you.

and if he subs that stamina becomes your greatest ally. you can just tie him up and work him with a fleshlight for hours, milking him so many times that the last orgasm has his cock twitching but nothing coming out anymore. You make him cum so much that you both lose count at some point. if he finishes and he softens a little sloppy kiss, a little teasing of his nipples (i feel like he has sensitive nipples idk why kdslmfkdfdmlskf) and then boom he’s hard again. that man just can’t resist you. and he whines for you to stop, to continue, he’s not sure. you can just make him go insane and he loves that.

ok so i teased it in yunho’s part but i think san has a size kink. big one.

the reason behind it i think is actually an insecurity of his. i don’t think he’s satisfied with his height you can kinda pick up in his body language that it’s a sensitive subject whenever it’s brought up by the other members and i think it’s also part of the reason why he works out so much. sure he will never be tall tall but he can definitely be big. so i think san would be into a partner that’s smaller than him (rip us tall girlies)

so he loves to tower over you, he loves that he’s able to hide you behind him, completely conceal you.

if he’s fucking you missionnary he loves to really emphasize that. “look at you, so small down there?” he loves taking the overly sweet and condescending tone when he doms (it makes you melt every time). “you’re doing so well for me baby. your tiny little body is taking my big cock so well” and he would lay his weight on you, really making you feel small.

also quick side note regarding 🍆 size. i don't think san is really long i think he’s average BUT he’s definitely girthy. He’s got some width to him and i also think he’s slightly curved upwards and god does he take advantage of that. if he fucks you missionary the angle is just devine and he loves to push down on your belly making sure you really feel him (dont mind me screaming rn because of san’s secret bulge kink)

he also loves when you tend to his size kink while he’s subbing. that could sound counterintuitive at first but hear me out

if he’s lying on his back on your shared bed and you are riding him and edging him he would keep his hands to his side not to influence your rhythm. he goes absolutely insane when you say “look at you big boy?” giving a particularly harsh bounce. “you’re suffering quietly? why aren’t you flipping me over and taking me exactly how you'd want” at this point he would beg and squirm so perfectly. “i know why because you know you must not. because you’re a good boy and you’d anything keep it that way right baby?” maybe teasing his nipples a little bit making him grit his teeth. “yes yes i wanna be good for you. i wanna be your good boy. p-please. ah fuck… pleaseplease”. so there you turn around and aim for the finish line he just can't get enough of seeing your perfect ass bounce on his cock. it’s his favorite position he just loves it whether he doming or subbing he loves it and it doesn't take long before he collapses and stuffs you full of pipping hot cum with grunts interspersed with small whimpers.

then when sexy time is done i feel like san is the kind of guy that has to hop in the shower he doesn't stand being sticky especially to bed. if you’re too tired it’s okay because he’s strong and he will carry you to the bathroom and wash you and then he’ll tuck you in bed and spoon you

he’d rather be the little spoon because he’s a big pouty baby after sex. but he’ll settle for anything if he gets to sleep curled up with you

bonus: i think san’s special kink would be recording you, making a sex tape with you. then watching it together. he would actually love to see more clearly how good he makes you feel or how small you actually look next to him. something he cant really see when he’s in the heat of the moment. he would also definitely tease you about it. “look at you, love. you’re shaking. i guess i must be that good” he would get so cocky about it but if you retort anything his wits go from 100 to 0 real fast. “what about you? look at you fucking moaning and worshipping my pussy? you really can’t get enough of it can you?” then he pouts for a second. Then he wraps his strong arms around your waist and pulls you close to him. “you’re right i can’t get enough of your pretty little pussy.” gives you a kiss on your nape and breathes heavily against your skin “i love how wet you get for me.” an other kiss and another sultry whisper. “can you show me again?” (circle back to the stamina thing… he’s INSATIABLE 😵‍💫)

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

a/n: finally back with this series! san was so fun to write actually. who will be next jongho, yeosang or hongjoong? just request them in the comments hehe <3

realistic sex with seonghwa, with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung

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