#For those with the headaches and the upset tummies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

The Lonely Souls Club 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: she at it again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her

Bucky leaves the leftovers in the fridge, his included, and the tea on the counter. He didn’t heed your protests before he went, insisting that it’s for you. You didn’t put up much of a fight. You’re too tired.

Alone, you settle onto the couch and stare at the door. You’re used to being on your own but now it seems so scary. What if that man comes back? Bucky says he ran off, that means he’s still out there. You blow out at the ceiling as you lean your head back; just another problem.

Your mind shifts to him. To Bucky. The man that saved you. It only sets in then that it’s been the nicest day you’ve had in a while, outside the break-in. You can separate the day from the night in that regard.

It isn’t just nice to have food in your tummy, but you forgot what it’s like to have someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t your doctor or a government admin bartering about your stipend. Not only that, but the way he looked at you. So intent, as if he truly could care for a stranger like you. As if someone broken could ever be special.

What are the odds he would like that noodle shop too? You suppose it’s rather popular. A coincidence can be just that. Maybe for once luck is on your side. You want to believe that but it’s just so hard to accept. You lost faith in it so long ago.

You sidle down and ease yourself across the mattress. It feels good to just be still. You close your eyes and long for a hot soak. Showers are nice but you can’t stand for very long and the shower seat has the water spraying over you so that it feels cold.

You languish across the thin bed but don’t sleep. Even if your hip wasn’t screaming in agony, your mind won’t settle. You might just have to take one of those pills Dr. Grissam prescribed.

You keep the light on with little mind to the electric bill. You can’t sleep without it. You keep the curtains drawn and each time you wake with a start, you drag yourself up to check that the door is still locked. You give in to consciousness as a headache thrums behind your brow.

As much as your fear keeps you up, you know it’s the bed too. Each night gets harder. What else can you do? You don’t have any better options. The floor would surely only leave you utterly helpless.

You have a cup of the new tea. It’s just as delicious as at the noodle shop. You bask in its warmth until the very bottom of the cup. When it’s all gone, you stretch the way the physio showed you, and move around with your cane. You still find that awkward.

You go out to check the mail, nervous at opening the door. The alley way is empty and quiet but for the noise of the upstairs neighbours. You pull the single envelope out of the dented mailbox and retreat. Thunk, thunk, you’re certain that both locks are firmly in place.

You know by the stamp what it is. It’s your stipend. You’ll have to go cash it. You keep everything in bills. You can’t afford the bank fees for an account. Another journey outside.

You tuck the check into your bag and get dressed. You wear a loose pair of cargo pants and a tee shirt with daisies on it. Your clothes are outdated and worn. You feel even more invisible when you walk past the stylish women on the streets with their stilettos and designer purses. It’s all just another fantasy you’ve let go of.

You head off, your gait even more off-kilter than usual. It isn’t the joint that troubles you today but your anxiety. The pain is tolerable, as neutral as it can be, but that worry in your head won’t calm. You keep your free hand on your bag and clack your cane in time with your feet.

The bank isn’t very far. You join the queue inside and lean on the cane as you pull out the check in anticipation. Your heart drops as you see the amount. It’s less than last month. A whole hundred dollars less...

Why? You should’ve read the letter with it. You’re dumb. You’ll have to call the municipal office again. Hopefully, this time they don’t send you to hold and waste all your minutes.

You step up and try not to show your disappointment. You get your money in a slim brown envelope and thank the teller. You head off to figure out what to do, if there’s anything to be done.

You walk past a new stand and slow as you recognise a face on the glossy cover of a magazine. It’s Bucky. Huh. He really is famous. You shift to face the shelves and lean in as you see yourself in a smaller frame with him. Oh gosh, you look feeble next to him.

The big bold letters scream out the question, ‘who?’ and proclaim you as a ‘mystery girl’ as others ponder if you’re a charity case. Is Bucky Barnes giving back again? Visiting with one of the many civilians he’s saved from danger? The truth is much less flattering.

You peer up as the clerk watches you. As he approaches, you turn and quickly limp off. That’s so embarrassing.

You can’t worry about it. You have a lot more than some clueless reporters to figure out. How in the hell are you going to afford to live?

Bucky

He watches her through the lens. She empties out her cupboards, the meagre pantry spread out on her counter. She makes note on the small pad, the same one she used to write him the thank you note. The one he keeps in his chest pocket.

She drops the pen and huffs. She leans her elbows on the counter and holds her head in her hands as she bends forward. The last few days, she’s been grim. He wish he could be there but he’s stuck at this stupid fucking training. Something about lethal force and when to use it. As if he doesn’t know.

“Hey,” Sam whispers without looking over, “stop texting your girlfriend.”

“I’m not,” he counters and blacks the screen, hiding the cell in his lap. “She’s not my girlfriend...”

“Not yet,” his partner laughs, “one day, right, bud?”

“Quiet, I’m listening,” Bucky nods to the front of the room.

“Sure,” Sam scoffs.

Bucky rolls his eyes and clutches his phone tight. He’s antsy as all he can think about is her. What’s wrong? Something’s happened and he can’t figure it out.

Fuck it. He flips his phone, keeping it against his thigh as he frames it with his hand. He unlocks the screen with his thumbprint and she appears again. Her shoulders are shaking as she’s wracked with sobs. Shit. He can’t just sit here listening to this nonsense.

He stands up without thinking and slides his phone into his back pocket. Agents look at him and the suit giving the lecture pauses. Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

“Emergency,” he states with a wave of his metal hand. No one protests his weak excuse. Not when they see that.

He steps around Sam’s chair as he makes no effort to move out of his way. He lurches it with a scrape and huffs at his deliberate obstacle. Sam makes a noise but doesn’t resist. Bucky quickly marches out without looking back. He has to get back to her. Now.

The helicopter ride isn’t fast enough. Bucky is restless and barely able to sit. The pilots tell him several times to do so. At last, he gets off and hurries across the tarmac. There is only his mission; her.

He zips off on his motorcycle, weaving through traffic recklessly, until he has the mind to reel it in at a red light that nearly sends him spinning. He stops and plants his feet. He pulls on his helmet and curses himself. He’s no good to her all beaten up.

He tries to measure his impatience but he’s never been very good at that. He can see her sobbing in his head. It makes his chest rent. He veers into the alleyway, his motor echoing, and dying as he twists the ignition. He tears the key out and kicks the stand down.

He charges at the door then stop short. What is he doing? Shit. It’s too late. He sees the curtain stir. No doubt she heard him coming. He cringes and his treads scuff with his weight.

She opens the inside door and peers out. He can see the dampness on her cheeks, her eyes are still swollen. She must’ve been crying this whole time. Something is seriously wrong.

“Hey,” he says dumbly with an even dopier smile.

“What--” she mops her face with her bare hands. She doesn’t have her cane, instead she hunches to one side. “What are you doing here?”

“You know, I realised I never got your number and I was in the neighbourhood so...”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t have any time on my phone,” she sniffles then winces. She lowers he eyes and shakes her head, “I’m sorry. I’m... I’m dealing with some stuff.”

“Oh, I... well, I was in the mood for ice cream--”

“I can’t--” she snaps and stops herself, slapping her hand across her mouth. Her eyes round through the black iron grating and suddenly she’s staggering. Her leg crumples under her and she lands on her hip with a worrying crash. “Ow!”

“Oh god,” he exclaims. It’s all his fault. He didn’t think. Why didn’t he think?! “Are you--” He grabs the handle but the outer door is still locked. Whatever. He breaks it easily and reams it open, “are you okay?”

He drops to his knee and touches her arm. She’s trembling.

“No,” she babbles as she covers her face with one hand, her other arm shaking as she keeps herself propped up. “No, I’m not okay! I can’t-- I can’t go for ice cream because I can’t-- I can’t walk that far. And I can’t-- I don’t even have two dollars to spend on a scoop—and--”

He can hear her heart hammering as it all spills out of her. She’s been holding it in for so long, he can feel it roiling off of her. He knows better than anyone she needs this.

“Please go away!” She keeps her face hidden behind her hand, “I’m a loser. Please. I can’t-- I don’t want you to see me like this.”

His breath is completely gone. He feels like he’s been punched in the chest. He can’t bear to see her in so much pain. He’s sat and watched for so long. He can’t do it any more, just like she can’t.

“You’re not... a loser,” he says as he rubs her shoulder, “I don’t think that at all. You’re stronger than anyone I know. You’re stronger than me.”

“You don’t know me,” she rips her hand away at last, her eyes sparkling with tears and pain. “How would you know?”

“I can see it. Right now. But you don’t have to hide it. You don’t have to send me away. You don’t have to be embarrassed. You shouldn’t be,” he drawls gently, “you’re not broken.”

“I am,” she pushes herself to lean forward on her own weight and hangs her head, “I’m all messed up. No one cares about me. They just think I’m a burden. I'm lazy and useless.”

“I don’t--”

“You don’t know--”

“I do,” he insists, “I’ve been where you are. I--” He looks down and retracts his hand. His own heart is pounding.

He sits back on his heel and unzips his jacket. He slips his hand up his shirt and feels along his chest and shoulders. He finds the release and pushes, hooking his fingers until the weight drops off. His arm lands by his knee with a metallic noise. She gasps.

“I know you,” he repeats as he watches her, more terrified than he’s ever been.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel #the lonely souls club

137 notes · View notes

goldenempyrean · 1 year ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff Does Not Get Sick

〚 Notes - I started writing this a while ago but honestly I lost motivation and I just ended up finishing it last night instead of sleeping :p enjoy :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Natasha Romanoff does not get sick. It’s as simple as that. She’s the Black Widow something like this wasn’t meant to effect her - only it did. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 3100 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Natasha Romanoff does not get sick. It’s as simple as that. Never once in the 5 years you’d been married had you seen her sick and never once in the 3 years prior to that too. Sure, she’d get the occasional headache or stomach cramps but those were mainly due to her inability to rest and take breaks when training.  

The file for her sick days at SHIELD was completely blank - just an empty folder sitting on a shelf. Hell, her only days off were the times she’d been so injured that it almost unable to walk but even she’d still insisted on coming in, it was only after you’d firmly put your foot down that she’d agreed to stay home.

It didn’t matter how many countless germs she had been exposed too; she simply just did not pick anything up. No cases of the sniffles, no upset tummies. Not even the occasional sore throat. So, you could only imagine her confusion when she woke up that Monday morning and with an uncomfortably dry feeling settling at the back of her throat. Strange.

She blinked groggily, her eyes adjusting to the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. She shifted in bed, feeling an unusual heaviness in her limbs. As she sat up, the dryness in her throat intensified, causing her to cough lightly. It was a foreign sensation; but one she just couldn't quite ignore.

Beside her, you were still snoozing away, your messy bedhead sprawling onto the pillow beneath you as you slept. Cute. Natasha smiled a little as she moved some off the hair from your eyes and pressed a soft delicate kiss to the top of your head. Her pretty darling.

Glancing over to her phone, the screen lit up revealing the time. It was almost 6:45. Alright, just enough time to shower and train, she thought to herself before tucking you up in her side of the blanket as she got out of the bed.

Oddly, the room felt colder than normal. The soft carpet beneath her feet felt different, like it was harder than usual. It made her joints feel funny as she wandered into the bathroom.

Natasha turned on the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her body, hoping it would ease the strange sensations she was experiencing. As the steam enveloped the bathroom, she stood there for a moment, allowing herself to relax under the soothing flow.

But as the water hit her skin, she realised something was wrong. The warm droplets which usually brought her much comfort now felt akin to icy pin pricks against her sensitive flesh. The widow shivered involuntarily, feeling a chill that seemed to seep deep into her bones as the small droplets continued to bash against her skin.

Not only that but her arms felt heavy? If that was even possible. As she lifted her arms to reach up for the soap, she could feel them straining and aching. Similar too how they felt after many hours of lifting and training. Whatever, it didn’t matter now. Nat finished up her shower, she shivered again as she turned off the water and stepped out the tiled floor despite the warm steam still lingering around the room.

Wrapping herself in a towel, Natasha stood in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her. She noticed the pallor of her skin, a stark contrast to her usual vibrant complexion. Her lips were slightly chapped, and there was a faint flush on her cheeks. She reached out to touch her reflection, almost expecting it to be an illusion, but the cold sensation against her fingertips confirmed that this was real.

Her body felt sluggish, her movements slower than usual. Even the simple act of drying herself off seemed to require more effort. Once finished, Nat let out a soft sigh as she tried to brush off the strange sensations and feelings.

As she quietly crept back into the bedroom, she could see that you’d gone from being in a cuddle huddle on the bed to sprawling across the whole thing, looking rather like a starfish. Nat found herself giving a small chuckle at this but quickly winced afterwards, bringing up her hand to rub at the outside of her throat. The feeling wasn’t just uncomfortable, this time it hurt. 

It seemed to disappear though just as quickly as it came and Natasha let herself forget about it as she surveyed her wardrobe looking for something to wear. Eventually she settled on a pair of gym leggings and one of her designated work-out tee’s.

Quietly, she made her way out of the room and carefully closed the door behind her, trying not to disturb you as you slept. And she made her way down towards the communal kitchen to get her daily cup of coffee and to make her usual pre-work-out shake.

The kitchen was empty, to no-one's surprise. She was usually the only person up and active at this time of day, well, other than Tony who was usually tinkering with some form of gadgets in his lab. 

Nat grabbed her cup and began making her shake as she waked for her coffee but the usual hum of the coffee machine and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, didn't bring the same comfort they usually did. The scent seemed muted, the taste lacking its usual richness and depth. In fact, in all honesty, she could barely smell it at all.

As Natasha leant over the countertop, sipping her coffee, she couldn't help but notice how everything felt... off. The normally comforting warmth of the mug against her hands felt distant and cold. The drink tasted bitter and bland, failing to provide its usual energy boost. She pushed the mug away; the appeal of the drink being lost all together.

It was then that the Widow felt a sudden tickle in her nose, followed by an intense urge to sneeze. She scrunched up her face, trying to suppress the impending sneeze, but it was futile. A forceful sneeze erupted from her, catching her by surprise. It was followed by another, and then another… and the another.

“God, what is wrong with me today.” Nat mumbled to herself as she reached across the counter to tear roll a piece of kitchen roll, intending to blow her nose to get rid of whatever had tickled her so much. Much to her annoyance though, the action didn’t provide much relief and instead only served to make the edges of her poor nose feel like they had just been scrubbed with rough sandpaper. Ugh.

Whatever it wasn’t like she could fix it, maybe she just needed to sweat it out for a bit. Work up her heart rate and clear her head. So, she abandoned the kitchen and set out for the gym.

However, with every step she took, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. Her normally agile and graceful movements felt sluggish and heavy. It was as if her body was protesting against the physical exertion, she was subjecting it to.

She reached the gym and glanced around at the familiar equipment and training area. The sight that usually filled her with motivation and excitement now seemed daunting. She sighed heavily and decided to start with some light stretching to warm up her aching muscles. But as she reached down to touch her toes, a wave of dizziness washed over her, causing her to stumble and catch herself on the nearest exercise machine.

“Shit.” She paused to gather herself, she swallowed and was unable to ignore the scraping feeling that had followed immediately after. Nat coughed thickly; the raspy sound muffled slightly by the back of her wrist as leaned against the exercise machine for support.

She should’ve stopped there but in her true, stubborn fashion, Nat forced herself to push through the discomfort and continued with her training routine, determined not to let whatever this was slow her down. She started with some light cardio, stepping onto the treadmill and setting a moderate pace. But with every stride, her legs felt heavier - like somebody had attached a heaving weight to her ankles - and her rasping breaths grew shallower and shallower until it felt like she could no

longer breath at all.

Thick beads of sweat formed on her forehead and Natasha could feel her body temperature rising. But this was different, it was not the subtle heat coming from over worked muscles, this was something else. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand, only to realise her palm was clammy and hot against her own skin.

But she refused to give in. An irresponsible move at the time but it was the only thought she thought to do. She increased the intensity of her workout, thinking that pushing harder would somehow make her feel better - oh, how wrong she would turn out to be. Nat dragged herself from the treadmill and over to the weightlifting area, grabbing dumbbells that felt immensely heavier than usual. The strain on her arms felt horrible but still, she continued to ignore it.

As she attempted a bicep curl, her trembling arm faltered, and the weight slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the floor. Natasha's heart sank as frustration mixed with exhaustion. She had never felt so weak, so vulnerable. Tears welled up in her eyes, a combination of physical pain and emotional frustration.

Just as she was about to push herself for one more rep, a wave of nausea crashed over her as she began coughing uncontrollably. Reality finally hit her when black spots crowded her vision. The light above seemed to flicker rapidly, twisting and convulsing in sharp rays as the room span around her. She couldn't ignore the fact that something was seriously wrong with her now. She’d had pushed herself way past the breaking point, and her body had finally rebelled.

Her tired body convulsed with a sudden sneeze, her entire frame jolting forward. The force of it surprised her, causing her to stumble and clutch onto the weight rack for support. Her nose tickled with an intense sensation, and before she could even react, another sneeze erupted from deep within her.

It was a violent, explosive sneeze that wracked her body, sending sharp jolts of pain through her chest and abdomen. The sneezes came in quick succession, each one more powerful than the last, leaving Natasha feeling drained and dizzy. She brought her hand to her nose, which was now red and raw from the constant rubbing and wiping.

“Oh fuck…” Now Nat knew this was sickness - she wasn’t an idiot. She’s seen girls from the red-room get ill and be dragged off to God know’s where only to return as empty, broken shells. That’s if they ever returned at all. But how could this be. She was the Black Widow. A merciless killer. Natasha Romanoff does not get sick.

Yet here she was.

Finally giving in, Nat mustered all her strength to stand up, intending to leave the gym and find solace in the comfort of her own bed. But as she took a step forward, her legs wobbled beneath her, unable to support her weight. With a sigh of resignation, she lowered herself back down, sprawling on the cool floor.

Lying there, the cold, lonely tiles provided some relief to her feverish body. The gym around her faded into the background as she closed her eyes, trying to regain some semblance of control over her deteriorating condition. The room continued to spin and warp around her, and she felt the sweat-soaked fabric of her workout clothes cling uncomfortably to her blazing skin.

Her feverish mind raced with thoughts of the consequences of her reckless behaviour. She had pushed herself too hard, ignoring the signs of fatigue and pain until her body had reached its breaking point. The Black Widow had always prided herself on her physical prowess and resilience, but now she found herself helpless and vulnerable.

Each breath she took felt like a struggle, her chest constricting with each inhalation. Coughs continued to wrack her body, the violent spasms sending jolts of pain through her weakened frame. The sound of her coughs echoed in the empty gym, a harsh reminder of her own mortality.

A sense of frustration and anger surged within Natasha. She was used to being in control, to relying on her strength and skill to overcome any obstacle. But now, she was at the mercy of a relentless illness that she couldn't simply fight or defeat. It was a humbling experience, one that forced her to confront her own limitations. 

All she wanted was you. She craved your comforting touch; the soft alluring sound of your voice was all she’s need. But it felt as if you were so far away, a place she’d never be able to reach, not here from the tiled floor anyway. Maybe she could just close her eyes for a moment to regather herself. Then she’d pull herself up and come back and fall into your loving hold. That was the plan.

But as Natasha's eyes fluttered shut, her body succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion that had been building within her. Sleep enveloped her like a heavy blanket, pulling her deeper into its embrace. The gym and its surroundings faded away, replaced by a dreamscape where she could find solace and healing.

In her dreams, Natasha found herself in a serene garden, surrounded by vibrant flowers and the soothing sounds of a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and pain that had consumed her waking hours. She felt a sense of peace and tranquillity wash over her, easing the tension in her body and mind.

As she wandered through the garden, she came across a small pond shimmering with crystal-clear water. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she knelt down beside it, dipping her fingers into the cool liquid. The sensation brought a momentary relief from her fevered state, soothing the heat radiating from her skin.

In her dream, time seemed to stand still, allowing her to bask in this tranquil oasis. She closed her eyes and focused on the rhythmic sound of her own breath, allowing it to guide her into a state of deep relaxation. The weight of her illness seemed to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and strength.

In this dream state, Natasha felt a familiar presence drawing near. She turned her head, her heart skipping a beat as she saw you standing there, your eyes filled with concern and love. You reached out a hand, and without hesitation, she reached for it, intertwining her fingers with yours as hoards of blood red butterflies suddenly seemed to appear from nowhere and everywhere, the crashing sound of their rapidly fluttering winds was almost overpowering as she clutched your hand desperately

But then something else came, the butterflies thunderous flapped quietened down and the touch of your hand had sent a wave of warmth surging through Natasha's body, as if your very presence had the power to heal her. She leaned into you, seeking the comfort and support she had longed for. Your voice, soft and soothing, whispered words of reassurance and love into her ear.

It wasn’t until she stirred, feeling a deep cooling sensation dabbing over her face that she realised you weren’t in her dream talking to her. You were sat over her, an anxious expression of worry plastered across your face as you pressed a wet washcloth to her face.

“Y/N?” She croaked out, her voice barely louder than a whisper. It took Nat a few moments to register that she was no longer laying on the cool floor of the gym but the soft welcoming embrace of her mattress.

Nat’s brows furrowed as she tried to recall the events leading up to this moment. The dream still lingered in her mind, the garden and the pond, the butterflies and your comforting presence. But now, reality had taken hold, and she found herself grateful to be in the familiar comfort of her own bed, with you by her side.

"You’ve burning up with the flu sweetheart, why on earth did you go and train like this," You sighed softly, pressing the cool cloth against her forehead as you tried hard to keep the lecturing tone out of your voice. There was definitely going to be a discussion about her reckless at some point or another but right now taking care of her took priority.

"How did I even get here?" Your wife asked weakly, only having the energy turning her head away before setting off into a series of thick, raspy coughing.

"You passed out in the gym," You explained gently, your hand coming to trace soothing circles on her back. "I found you and carried you back to your room. You've been out for a few hours now.

Natasha nodded weakly, her throat raw and dry from the coughing. She felt a mix of gratitude and guilt, grateful that you had found her and taken care of her, but guilty for putting yourself in a position where you had to worry about her well-being.

"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to worry you."

You leaned in closer, your voice filled with concern. "It's okay, Nat. I'm just glad you're back and that I could take care of you. You don't have to apologise. I'm here for you."

Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes, her fevered state making her emotions feel raw and overwhelming. 

She reached out and grasped your hand, holding it tightly as a mixture of gratitude, love, and vulnerability washed over her.

"I needed you," she admitted softly, her voice filled with a mix of longing and exhaustion. "I thought about you when I was lying there on the gym floor. I wanted your touch, your voice. I wanted to feel safe in your arms."

You squeezed her hand gently, your touch grounding her and providing the comfort she craved. "I'm right here, Nat. I'm not going anywhere, just let me take care of you."

With your reassurance, Natasha allowed herself to surrender to your care. She closed her eyes, letting the weight of her illness and the fatigue pull her back into a deep slumber. 

This time, she didn't dream of gardens or butterflies. Instead, she dreamed of your presence, the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your love surrounding her, offering her everything she could ever need.

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel #sickfic #natasha romanoff sickfic #mcu #whump #natasha romanoff #Black Widow

347 notes · View notes

kinky-pen · 5 months ago

Note

Do you have any headcanons of the hosts, both SFW and NSFW?

(2/2) ...Actually, when I mean “NSFW” Headcanons for the hosts, don’t include Honey, obviously. Have a couple of random thoughts on all the hosts. Not too much for the SFW, as I recently answered something similar, but a couple of NSFW headcanons for each of them below the cut.

SFW Headcanons

Tamaki

Finally realised he was pansexual in his final year of university, which really should've come sooner. Had a whole, elaborate coming out party, during which Kyoya just yelled inarticulately and stormed off. That's when Tamaki found out his best friend had been in love with him since middle school. (Depending on what you ship - I ship everything - that would be when Tamaki and Kyoya got together)

Haruhi

Finally gets fancy tuna in university. It wasn't the hosts who bought it for her, however, but a classmate who was incredibly thankful for the tutoring Haruhi gave them. Yes, the hosts were all incredibly upset (showing it in their own ways), and it was just a massive headache for Haruhi in general. They did admit it was stupid of them after about a week, though, and apologised.

Kyoya

Started med school in an effort to catch up to his brothers. The subsequent mental breakdown was not worth it, and he dropped out. Took the rest of the year as a gap year and then took the usual business and finance degrees when he got back from his travels. (The new septum piercing was discarded not long after he got back, however, after too many comments from the twins and Akito.

Kaoru

His fashion design degree nearly killed him. He was living on ramen (because it was convenient) and energy drinks for so long, just working on his projects day and night. The other ex-hosts had to host an intervention and make him sleep. He woke up after being dead to the world for nearly 20 hours, and everyone (except med student Kyoya) thinking he'd slipped into a coma.

Hikaru

Conversely to his brother, Hikaru spent a lot of time in university going to parties, especially those held by the chem majors (iykyk). Had a lot of fun, made a lot of friends, and dragged Kaoru with him by his hair more often than he probably should've. It was good stress relief for the both of them, though.

Mori

Very popular at university, in both senses of the word. While Mori's not the type for too many trysts and one night stands, it didn't mean he didn't have a lot of offers. Had a couple of girlfriends, and a few boyfriends, during this time.

Hani

Buckled down during university, in terms of studying, but still retained quite a few of his childish traits. Usa-chan did frequently accompany him to lectures, and was a bit of a hit with the rest of the class. In fact, Usa-chan became the class mascot not too long into first term.

NSFW Headcanons

Tamaki

Versatile. Can go from a good boy whining but taking it like a champ one minute, only to switch up and use that charisma and princely desire to pull one over on his partner (consensually, ofc) the next moment.

It may have been a joke in the beach episode, but this boy is indeed into bondage! Restraints, blindfolds, harnesses. He doesn't mind if he's tying up his partner, or if he's the one being tied up!

When subbing, he loves puppy play. He's just a good boy who needs you to tell him he's a good boy, petting him and rubbing his tummy while giving him treats for being so perfect and precious (whether in a feedist scenario or not). Kinky, stop projecting ffs

Haruhi

A switch, but does prefer topping. You've got to be the right kind of top/dom to get her to step down, basically. I feel like Haruhi's love language is mainly acts of service, with a smattering of words of affirmation, combine beautifully to make a service top who knows what she's doing.

When in full dom mode, she loves total control of her sub. They do as she says, or she'll keep them "in suspense" until they cry. Could certainly be an excellent brat tamer for the right sub, but it depends if she can be bothered to have that much attitude aimed at her. I mainly see the brat tamer dynamic working for HikaHaru, rather than any other ships, though.

Wants to hear her partner come undone, but is happy to use a gag on them if they whimper loud enough for her to hear. Actually kind of enjoys the challenge of trying to make them so loud that the gag doesn't do much of anything.

Kyoya

Kyoya is a sub, a bottom (because they are not mutually exclusive) and a pillow prince, I'll take no criticism at this time, thank you. He just melts in so many kink scenarios where he's told what to do, from being pampered to being tortured. He'll try topping for the right person, if they really wanted him to, but it's much more likely that you'll have a surprisingly needy brat on your hands.

Blindfold him and tell him he's pretty. Worship him with your voice and hands, and make him feel like he's the most precious thing in the world. He'll start crying, I promise, and then you'll get to see cute tearstains on that lovely blindfold. (He loves the feeling of support while being so incredibly vulnerable, it's not something he's had much of before)

He's either so silent when he cums that some partners would barely notice (and proceed to just overstimulate him to the point of multiple orgasms - but he loves that), or the loudest goddamn sub ever. The quietest whimper, or the loudest fucking screaming and begging to cum, absolutely no in-between.

Kaoru

Surprisingly, prefers topping. His act with Hikaru had him as a power bottom (thank you ohshc manga for spelling that out plain as day). I highly doubt he'd want a sub dynamic with someone he actually wants a relationship with (whether romantic or purely sexual), as it'd just make him think of hosting with his brother (ew!)

Though, this boy is still a Hitachiin. Loves humiliation. Will be using your kinks against his partner in order to embarrass them (again, consensually). Think comments like "wow, can't you keep it together? We're practically in public", while doing everything he can to push his partner's buttons.

Kaoru will lick his partner dry when they're done, cleaning them up with nothing but his tongue. As long as he has time on his hands, at least. It's a talented tongue, and half the time it just starts another round off again. How bad, what a shame /s.

Hikaru

Says he's a top, but actually is a bratty power bottom (how the turn tables). He wants to be fucked hard, and if it's not to his liking then he will let his partner know. Teasing, jeering, everything. Loves making whoever he's with pissed off while their fucking him. It just makes it rougher, even more passionate, and he just wants his brains fucked out of his pretty little head.

Bullying kink. Some slight bimbo/stupification leanings, honestly. Wants someone to talk down to him like he's just too stupid to function. They'll get something sharp and snarled in response, but his eyes and erection are begging them to keep pushing. Call him every name under the sun, shove him around, step on his crotch. He'll fight it, duh, but it gets to the point where he's just too turned on and needy to continue, and then he can be fucked to his partner's content.

Wants multiple orgasms (most of the time), and what he wants, he gets. If his partner doesn't get him off enough times before stopping, he will just touch himself until he gets another one or two in. If his dom can't stop him first, that is.

Mori

Service top, gentle dom. If his partner wants him to be any degree of mean, there's going to be a lot of trial and error, as well as a lot of talking about it before hand. It's going to take a while to build up to Mori using his massive strength and such on his partner (but it'll be worth it when he gets there, trust me)

No restraints but his hands and weight. Well, maybe on request, but he wants to pin his partner down himself, using those big hands to pin their wrists, pressing his weight down on them so he can feel every buck and shudder. Why should he let some metal and scraps of fabric do what he takes pleasure in?

His voice goes so deep when he's on the edge of an orgasm, encouraging his partner to just keep going, so good, feels so nice. Deep and breathy, all at once. A quiet guy, but so pretty to hear. He also likes his partner being loud about their own pleasure, does like to try and make them beg a little. He just wants to know they're having a great time.

#dni if a minor or not kink positive - thank you #ouran high school host club #ohshc #tamaki suoh #kyoya ootori #haruhi fujioka #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #not listing ships bc they aren't gone into detail with tbh

37 notes · View notes

candied-boys · 9 months ago

Text

Blarf. I've felt so off the last few days.

So here are silly head canons for a few of the princes looking after you

Warning: uh sicky, owie, :(

Gn reader, sfw, comfort and fluff and a little angst because Licht

I can't tell if it's a touch of food poisoning or just my ghost period (thanks to great birth control there's no anemia inducing blood loss anymore - only random cramps and fevers and so on! Hurray?). Maybe it's both. Anyway I feel like garbage so...

Jin - upset tummy

"Feels better, right?" he smiles down tenderly at you as you nod.

Something about his big, warm palm rubbing slow circles across your stomach over and over is oddly soothing. You thought it might make you feel worse since the last thing you wanted was any pressure on your already twisted belly, but it really does seem to be helping.

"My mother always used to do this for me when I'd make myself sick eating too much candy."

Just the thought of how much candy he eats now and how much more he would have had to have eaten to make himself sick as a kid makes you queasy, but you're quickly brought back to comfort by the low timber of his voice as he repeats the same chant his mother once did for him.

"Gentle hands are medicine..." 🎶

*the original in Korean is "mommy's hands are medicine" (엄마손은 약손) so I changed it to match.

Licht - a fever

Injury on the battlefield doesn't phase him, but seeing you bedridden with a fever makes him feel so helpless that he makes himself sick with worry. Even with the doctors assuring him that you'll be fine once the fever breaks and Clavis sourcing the best medicine for you, Licht is still a complete wreck.

He doesn't sleep, eat, or even move from your side. He just sits there next to your bed, changing the cool towel on your forehead every 20 minutes like clockwork, making sure you take your medicine twice a day, and helping you take sips of water each time you wake up. In the moments where you're sleeping and he's left with nothing to do but fret, he sings his mother's lullabies for you.

Your smile when you finally wake up feeling better is enough to make any amount of suffering worth it for him. Even suffering your harsh scolding.

Luke - Headache

It hurts. It hurts so much, but it hurts less and less each time his strong hands knead the knots out of your shoulders.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" you whimper and tense when his thumb rolls over a particularly sensitive spot.

"I know, I know," he murmurs and kisses your head. "Ya got so many knots though. I don't think it's just last night ya slept funny. It's gotta be all them books you're carrying around with ya all the time or something. There's no way ya got this tense in one day."

He's not wrong. But you're stubborn and won't let other people carry things for you. And maybe that cross bag you take into town isn't doing you any favours either... And maybe binge reading that new book while hunched up against the bedframe wasn't the best posture... And you should probably be doing those stretches every night but you're just so tired when you fall into bed... And... maybe you're just not 19 anymore......

But maybe it's not weak or selfish to give in to being cared for if it makes the person who loves you happier.

"Thanks, Luke..." you mumble and wince with pain as you tilt your neck to add a little resistance.

"My pleasure," he answers and wraps you in a gentle hug.

I have thoughts for more, but I'm sicky so not today :(

Lovely banner by @/cafekitsune

#ikepri #ikemen prince #ikepri headcanons #luke randolph #licht klein #jin grandet

25 notes · View notes

sickficideas · 1 year ago

Note

Spare fyolai and ranpoe HCs🤲

okay i can't promise this will be in character because i don't consume much fyolai content but i will try my best 🙏 also i assume ur asking for sickfic hcs if you meant something else pls correct me !! (also sorry this took so long omg)

also fyolai gets like a little nsfw bc theyre freaky like that 💖

ranpoe

- ranpo has never been Really sick a day in his life just out of sheer luck I'd imagine but those eating habits of his have to get him some solid stomachaches. and he is definitely complaining about it!!!

- he is asking (demanding) poe to rub his tummy when he doesn't feel good. poe is a good man and obliges every time. it always makes ranpo fall asleep 💖

- but he gets really bad food poisoning one day and ends the day like sobbing in poe's arms because he's so overwhelmed. the nausea, the actual act of throwing up, the cramping/soreness, burning in his throat, the headache from the dehydration is too much. poe is very sad about him being so upset and almost cries with him💔💔💔

- poe coming in clutch w the sweet factor though. "are you feeling alright dear?" "sweetheart, tell me where it hurts." "i need you to drink some water for me, my love."

- poe with the forehead kisses 😭😭😭💖 ranpo secretly loves them

- poe looks like a sickly man to me but i think he looks after his health very well...he has a personal doctor that regularly checks on him </3

- ranpo puts the pieces together quick but never says anything because he doesn't know if it's his place. he always has yosano on speed dial if he thinks something is wrong with poe however

- poe gets quiet when he's not feeling well but he always quietly seeks out ranpo's affection. he wants to hold hands and cuddle

- ranpo will always help him

fyolai

- nikolai is a dedicated emetophile for sure. making himself sick on purpose...he definitely likes puking. being sweaty and sore and being loud about it. fyodor thinks it's hot to watch.

- (thinking abt that official art) nikolai will also involve fyodor by force feeding him sweet things until he's nauseous and drooling

- nikolai is always the first to offer to stick his fingers down fyodor's throat if he mentions his stomach being sick

- fyodor canonically has anemia right LOL?? or is that a fandom delusion...lol regardless he does to me. he is elegantly fainting all the time. i bet he has a fancy fainting couch. i like the imagery of nikolai taking his arm when he stands up to prevent him from getting too dizzy from standing up too fast

- nikolai def likes seeing fyodor ill tho. sweat, drool, glassy eyes. fyodor catches him staring and says things like "take a picture, it lasts longer".

- nikolai watches him sleep and plays with his hair

- nikolai absolutely wants to be comforted if he doesn't feel good against his will though💖

58 notes · View notes

unseededtoast · 1 year ago

Text

Rectify | Bucky Barnes

Part 17/37 | Part Sixteen, Part Eighteen

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Bucky Barnes x OC

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"They don't even love each other and they're going to get married in ninety days?"

Sunlight streams into the room sooner than I would have liked. I keep my eyes closed, feeling my slight hangover headache. I don't feel Bucky anywhere on the bed, he must have left after I fell asleep. Last night didn't go exactly as planned, but I think we were still able to have some fun for a little bit. Rolling over, I open my eyes and sit on the side of the bed, my feet barely touching the cool floor.

As I walk to the bathroom, I change out of last night's clothes and find something more comfortable to put on. I swallow some pain relievers, brush my hair, and splash my face with cool water to make myself feel not as grimy. I go down to the main area of the building, seeing Bucky already up and moving around.

"Good morning, sunshine." Bucky smiles as I slide my feet on the floor, going to take a seat at the island.

"Good morning, Buck. You're in a good mood this morning." I say, watching as he grabs some fruit from the fridge.

"I guess I just woke up on the right side of the bed." He smirks as he lays a bowl of raspberries in front of me.

"You're not mad about last night?" I ask as I pop a berry in my mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows together,

"No, why would I be mad about last night?" He asks and I shrug my shoulders.

"Because I got a little too tipsy and you punched a guy." I point out. I was a little nervous he was going to be upset because of how conspicuous we were last night, and that the incident may have put us on Hydra's radar if they're in the area.

"It was just a normal night out, things like that happen. It's not the first time I punched a guy in a bar, probably won't be my last. Plus, that guy was way out of line and he deserved it." He says, putting my nerves at ease.

"You get into a lot of bar fights back in the day?" I ask. I'm curious to know more about what his life was like before he fell off the train.

"Well, I wasn't the one who started them, that was all Steve. I just had to be the one to finish them." He explains. It's easy to forget Steve used to be an ordinary person before the serum.

"Well, thank you for finishing it last night. He wasn't going to let me go." I say, unintentionally taking the mood down a level.

"Like I said last night, you would do it for me if it were the other way around. There's not a chance I would've let him do anything to you." He says and turns back to resume whatever he was doing before I got here.

I think back to last night, and remember some of the finer details. Bucky was an observer, he liked to watch the people more than he interacted with them and that's probably why he didn't join me in dancing. I remember when we walked out, after Bucky punched the man, he called me sweetheart in the most tender and caring way possible. Though I know he did it to be nice, it still makes my tummy flutter thinking about it, along with the way he claimed me in front of the entire bar. I remember the warmth of his hand in mine the entire ride back and as I held it in bed.

I look at Bucky, who's busy cooking something. I can see the outline of his shoulder blades through his shirt, and the muscles in his arms are very noticeable. I would love nothing more than to experience the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms again, feel the gentle forehead kiss one more time. In another life I think things would've worked out for us, but unfortunately I'm stuck in this one and sentenced to forever long for someone I'll never be able to have.

Bucky turns around with a smile on his face, I don't know why he's so happy this morning. It's not a bad thing by any means, it's just a little out of character for him. I look at the pan in his hand, a perfectly cooked pancake in it. He looks like a little kid on Christmas who just got their most wanted gift.

"That's a pretty pancake." I say, laughing a little at his giddiness over a pancake.

"It's not just a pretty pancake, it's a beautiful one." He defends his pancake as he slides it onto a plate. He grabs raspberries out of the bowl and forms a smiley face. He continues to do the same thing for the rest he makes.

We sit and watch tv, much like we did when we were in the bunker, though this time it feels a little different. The natural light and ability to go out and about makes this ten times better than the bunker. This tv has more than three channels to choose from, and I think it's a good time to introduce Bucky to some of the modern day entertainment options. I turn the tv to one of my favorite guilty pleasure shows. After a few minutes, Bucky is obviously confused,

"Why are they doing this?"

"Well most of the time the fiancé just wants a green card, but there are some good episodes out there that seem more genuine." I tell him, but I don't think he's convinced.

"They don't even love each other and they're going to get married in ninety days?" He asks incredulously. I nod my head,

"Yeah, pretty much." I say, enjoying watching him struggle to understand the concept. I grab our dishes and put them in the sink as the commercials interrupt the show. Watching Bucky try to understand reality tv is more enjoyable than I ever could've imagined. I flip through more channels to see if anything else is on, but land on the news. I don't think Bucky could have taken any more trashy reality shows.

I wonder if there's going to be anything about what the Avengers are doing. On one hand I hope there's no coverage on them because that means their cover hasn't been blown and they're probably doing okay. On the other hand, I want to know that they're all okay and what they're doing, and whether they'll be back soon.

"Do you think they're okay?" I ask, turning the volume down on the tv. Bucky sighs and tilts his head,

"I think they're okay. It's hard saying how many are there at that base though." I can tell he's thinking of Steve and his well-being the most.

I've never been to Hydra's base in Sokovia, though I heard whisperings about it. Most of it was talking about some sort of human experimentation. At one point, I overheard my father discussing if I will be relocated there to carry out the Winter Soldier mission. I heard it was a bad place, and many people don't make it out of there. The one thing I'm grateful to my father for was never sending me there.

"Waiting and not knowing is the worst part." I say. There are so many things that can go wrong, and we're probably the only two people that know where the Avengers are right now.

"We waited in the bunker for four days, we can do it." Bucky tries to give encouragement, though I can tell he's not happy about the situation either.

"I hated that bunker so much." I shake my head. Silence falls over us, neither knowing what to say, and preoccupied with thoughts. Bucky shifts around on his side of the couch and runs a hand through his hair. I can't stand sitting on the couch to let my intrusive thoughts cause me anxiety, I get up and head outside where the air is warm. Shortly after, I hear Bucky join me.

"You know, neither Steve nor Natasha finished showing me how to fight." I look over at Bucky, squinting slightly from the sun.

"Are you saying you want me to show you?" He clarifies, and I nod my head.

"I mean yeah, why not?" I ask. I remember when I first asked Steve to show me and Bucky went inside, almost like he was disappointed I didn't ask him. I see him look to his left hand and back to me,

"Adalyn, I don't know. I already hurt you once the other day. Are you sure it's a good idea?" He asks. I rub the area on my arm where his metal hand left a bruise, which is almost completely healed.

"Bucky you were startled and didn't mean to hurt me, if I wasn't completely sure I wouldn't have asked." I say and stand up, hoping he agrees to show me. After a few moments he stands and nods his head,

"Alright let's get started." He says and I nod, waiting for him to give me instructions.

Steve's fighting style relied on being strong and using pure strength, which I have very little of. Natasha's style was more suited for me, focusing on exploiting the other's weaknesses and moving swiftly. Bucky's style is a nice mixture of both, though I think he leans more towards Steve's style than Natasha's.

Bucky shows me how to take people down from behind, what areas to target to make people collapse the quickest. He helps me integrate some things Natasha showed me as well. The moves are difficult, but after a few times I'm able to get most of them.

We stand across from each other and I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. I've tried this move a few times but haven't been able to get it just yet, I'm hoping this time is different. Bucky nods to me and quickly turns around, so that his back is facing me.

I run up behind him and grab his shoulders, using my momentum to swing myself under his right arm. I lift my left leg to hook onto his right shoulder, and put my right leg on his left. I cross my ankles to help keep myself in place. He holds me up for a moment, and my eyes widen. I finally did it. Bucky puts me down and smiles.

"I told you that you'd get it." I smile back, happy that I was able to finally land it. Though the position looks a little odd, Bucky explained that from there I could hit someone on the head with my elbows and knock them out, or I could use my weight and the momentum created to slam them to the ground.

"So when are you going to show me how to do take someone to the ground from there?" I ask, feeling excited that I'm finally learning how to defend myself. I don't feel pressure to always perform well for Bucky like I did with Steve and Natasha.

"I think once you get the basics down completely then you'll be ready." He says and I nod, ready to go again. We set up again, just like we did last time. This time I hope I can do it smoother and quicker.

Once his back is turned to me, I run towards him. As soon as I feel my fingers on the fabric of his shirt I start the swing, creating one fluid motion. I hook my legs around his shoulders and cross my ankles. I know that one was better than last time, it felt quicker and more efficient. Bucky once again sets me down,

"That time was better, you're using the momentum to create that one motion." He says and I thank him, feeling confident in myself.

"You better watch out old man, one day I'll get good enough and take you down." I joke with him, feeling like this is a good stopping point for the day. I feel bad for continuously using Bucky's body to learn new moves. He laughs a little at my remark.

"We'll see about that." We walk inside the building, and I grab a glass of water.

After training with Bucky for a few hours, I'm excited for Steve and Natasha to come back so I can show them what I learned. I feel almost like a child wanting to show their parents a drawing they did at school. Though I know the few things I learned don't even begin to compare to what they can do, I want them to be proud of me and know that they don't have to go out of their way to protect me whenever something bad happens.

As the sun begins to set, Bucky and I find ourselves back on the couch. The faux fireplace under the tv is on, the atmosphere is laid back and cozy. I feel the muscles in my inner thighs start to get sore from how much I used them today, but I try to embrace the soreness. I stretch my legs out in front of me, settling into the couch,

"Did I do that?" Bucky's voice breaks the silence and startles me a little.

"Do what?" I ask, confused about what he's asking. I look and notice his eyes are locked in on my left thigh, which is exposed by the shorts I wore today. I run my fingers over the area and shake my head,

"No Bucky, you didn't do that. That happened when I left Hydra." I explain. He meets my eyes and I sigh, I didn't think I'd have to talk about this today, but I'll do it for Bucky.

"The day I decided to leave, my father ordered the agents to turn against me, he told them 'shoot to kill'. They tried, but only got my thigh, Dane was the one who shot me. I had to dig the bullet out myself, and it didn't heal properly, which is why it looks like that." I say, knowing the skin around the wound's site is red and deformed.

"Your father ordered them to kill you?" Bucky asks, I nod.

"Yeah, he told everyone there to kill me if they could. I poisoned him with cyanide and those were his last words, I tried to poison Dane too but he didn't go for it. They probably figured I'd die out there anyways." I say. I've never told Bucky the entire story of how I got out and what happened, I only just mentioned bits and pieces here and there.

"I'm so sorry." He says in a soft voice.

"After I got out and lost them, I was in the woods for days. I was in and out of consciousness from the blood loss. Eventually, I found a small village and I heard people talking about going to America to pay off their debts. I found a lady who was involved in the operation. It was a human trafficking deal, families would sell their children, women would offer themselves up, even men offered themselves. They had no guarantee about what would happen once they reached America, if they survived the trip. I managed to get a spot on a boat and was smuggled into America." I say, feeling my throat tighten as I recall what happened. It happened years ago but it feels like it happened the other day. I take a moment to gain my composure,

"There were children on that boat, their families sold them and they didn't understand what was going on. They cried every single night for their mothers. One of them died the night before we reached the shore, he was only seven." I say, and look to the ceiling. Tears threaten to spill onto my face. I remember that little boy clear as day.

"There were people waiting at the shore, they were expecting us. I overheard some of the people talk amongst each other about what they were going to do to them." I say, having to stop myself from repeating the vile words I heard. I look down at my lap, taking a few deep breaths before I can continue or else I think I may choke on my words.

I had tried to push those memories far back in my mind. Every single person on that boat with me deserved better, and there was nothing I could do to help them. I remember how the trafficker tossed the little boy's body into the water like he was nothing. I remember the look on some of the prospective buyers' faces as we reached shore, talking about which child had the most appeal. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about what those poor children had to face, what any of them had to face. I was the lucky one on the ship.

My heart breaks for the people I remember, every single one of them deserved to live a free life, not one of abusive servitude. And I hope the girls I was able to save are safe and found happiness. I feel Bucky's arms wrap around me, and he holds me close to his chest. I feel as though I should be crying, but I think I've conditioned myself to be numb in order to protect myself from the emotions. I've never told anyone the story, hearing it being said out loud makes it seem more real. It's hard for me to process everything after all these years, I don't know as if I'll ever be able to work through it all.

"It's okay, I'm here." Bucky whispers into my hair as he kisses the top of my head. My body feels numb, my mind is working overtime. I remember more bits and pieces of what happened, things I purposefully tried to forget. Bucky is warm as he holds me close, and I appreciate his willingness to be there and support me in whatever way he can.

"They didn't deserve it." I say monotonously. Not that I don't have any emotions, I just have too many to distinguish one of them in my tone.

"None of you deserved that." Bucky whispered. I lean into him some more, my mind racing through memories as snippets, remembering the screams of mothers being separated from their children, and vice versa. I remember the cold, how everyone's skin was a light shade of blue the entire trip to America, the sea is an unforgiving place.

As moments pass, I find myself gaining my composure back, pushing the unwanted memories aside. I take in Bucky's warmth for a moment before I sit up straight and look at him, a somber expression on his face. He's staring into the fireplace. The fake flames illuminate his blue eyes, which I can see has traces of tears in them. My heart sinks, I didn't mean to upset him with my story.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He says, making eye contact with me. I feel more vulnerable than I ever have around him, and I'm grateful he isn't asking further questions about my experience. Instead of saying anything back, I adjust myself so that I'm sitting beside him and rest my head on his shoulder.

I watch the flames dance as I reminisce, and I feel as if some sort of weight has been lifted off of me. I reach for Bucky's hand as I watch the flames, needing to feel the comfort and security he offers. He grabs my hand and rests his head on mine.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier #captain america

3 notes · View notes

ilikepjo24 · 2 years ago

Text

Posting my Zucest headcannons cause there's no good reason as to why not! Part 6!

"Sometimes I feel like I'm married to a child!"

Azula is satisfied with her life. She has recovered, she has forged a place for herself in this world. She's a sister/wife/co-Firelord to Zuko and mother to their three beautiful children. But in times like this, she feels like she's living with four kids instead of three.

And by the way, if you were wondering, "times like this" means "when Zuzu is sick".

Azula didn't expect this day to be different than the others. Currently, her family and her are taking a trip to Ember Island without their servants. Zuko says that it's important for the little ones to have life experiences of being just kids instead of only experiencing the feeling of being princess and a prince, which means that they have no assistance in their trips on Ember Island. They share the chores and do everything that needs to be done by themselves, like a commoner family would.

And so Azula woke up that day, before anyone else, as usual, and started making breakfast for her family. Some time later, the kids cane down to the kitchen and treated themselves to some pancakes. Zuko still hadn't woken up but Azula wasn't too worried. Her brother always liked to sleep in on vacations. But when lunch time came around and Zuko still hadn't come out of their bedroom, Azula was alarmed so she went to check on him.

She barely managed to walk through the door before getting accused of being a neglectful and uncaring wife for leaving her husband all alone, all day, to fight his illness by himself. That calmed Azula down. She knew that of Zuko was being so dramatic then it must be nothing and he's just being a baby, but she checked for fever just in case it only to find nothing. His temperature was perfectly normal. But he was complaining that he was cold and he had a headache and his tummy was upset and he was hungry because his heartless wife hadn't taken care of him properly.

Azula rolled her eyes and went back to the kitchen to bring Zuko a plate of food only for him to refuse it cause how could she try and feed him meat when he said his stomach is feeling weird? Is she trying to kill him? Azula returned to the kitchen again and made him some toast and rice although she knew he didn't really need to eat something light and it was all in his head. So you can imagine her frustration when Zuko denied his food again because he was too busy weepping since his wife obviously doesn't love him enough to even put some time into preparing a proper meal.

Azula was about to snap at him when their daughter walked in, concerned about her dad. Her mommy assured her that daddy would be fine and he's just feeling a little icky today, so she suggested making a soup for him. Azula's eye twitched. She wasn't planning on cooking again, especially since Zuko didn't really need it, but now her daughter was expecting to see her take care of her husband so what other choice does she have? Telling their daughter that Zuko is a wimp or looking like an unloving wife? None of those options were good so she went back down to the kitchen to make a soup.

If looks could kill, Zuko would be six feet under because honestly, Azula didn't spend her afternoon cooking three different meals for him all by herself only to hear him complain that she took so long that he's not even hungry anymore. She gave up. If Zuko wants to play sick, he can also play the part of the doctor, Azula has better things to do, like spending time with her kids. Of course, those were just words. She didn't have it in her to neglect her brother even if he was perfectly fine. So she returned a couple of times to bring him water and check his temperature again even tho it was still perfectly normal.

Azula honestly hates in when Zuko is sick. He doesn't do anything all day, he complains about everything and is acting like a child. She can't believe that she had to say "no" to her husband more times that she had to say it to her son when they both asked for ice cream before dinner! That day was honestly exhausting. Which is why she needed to teach her husband a lesson.

When nighttime came, she slept on the couch, despite Zuko's protests. She just couldn't risky getting sick as well because then who would care for their children? After a long time, she finally managed to make Zuko give in and sleep in their bedroom alone. It was satisfying to see him pout and stomp his feet like a kid after he was acting like one all day. If he wants to be a drama king them he needs to accept that he won't get laid or even receive cuddles.

Miraculously, Zuko wasn't sick the next day.

#zucest #zucest headcannons #i haven't done this in so long that i forgot which part this was #and i had to scroll for so long to find the previous part

6 notes · View notes

health-care-products-24 · 7 months ago

Text

A Household Hero: My Experience with The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies

Life throws curveballs, and sometimes, those curveballs come in the form of minor ailments when a trip to the doctor isn't exactly convenient. For years, I relied on over-the-counter medications for everything from headaches to stomachaches. However, I wanted to explore more natural solutions. That's when I discovered The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies. This comprehensive guide has become my go-to resource for addressing everyday health concerns with natural remedies readily available in most households.

A Treasure Trove of Natural Solutions

The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies isn't a collection of far-fetched cures. It's a practical guide packed with natural remedies passed down through generations, specifically chosen for their effectiveness in treating common ailments. Here's what impressed me most:

Focus on Kitchen Staples: The book emphasizes using readily available ingredients like honey, ginger, and apple cider vinegar. This makes it a budget-friendly and accessible approach to home remedies.

Simple and Clear Instructions: The book doesn't bombard you with complicated medical jargon. Each remedy is presented with clear instructions and easy-to-follow steps. This empowers readers to take charge of their well-being without feeling overwhelmed.

Wide Range of Ailments: From soothing a sore throat to calming an upset stomach, the book offers natural solutions for a variety of everyday health concerns. This makes it a one-stop resource for common household ailments.

Empowered to Take Charge of My Health

Since incorporating The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies into my life, I've felt more empowered to manage my health naturally. Here's how it's impacted me:

Reduced Reliance on Medication: For minor ailments, I now turn to the natural remedies in the book before reaching for over-the-counter medications. This has not only saved me money but also reduced my overall medication intake.

Increased Knowledge and Confidence: The book has equipped me with the knowledge and confidence to address everyday health concerns myself. This sense of self-reliance is empowering and allows me to take a more proactive approach to my well-being.

A Natural Approach for the Whole Family: The book's focus on natural remedies makes it a valuable resource for the whole family. I can now address minor scrapes, coughs, and upset tummies with natural solutions, giving me peace of mind and avoiding unnecessary trips to the doctor's office.

A Valuable Investment in Natural Wellness

It's important to remember that The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies shouldn't be a substitute for professional medical advice. However, for minor ailments, it offers a wealth of natural solutions worth exploring.

A Household Essential for Natural Wellness

If you're looking for a practical guide to natural home remedies, The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies is an excellent choice. It's a valuable investment in natural wellness, empowering you to take charge of your health and address everyday concerns with readily available solutions. Remember, natural remedies can be a powerful tool in your well-being toolkit, and this book can be your guide on that journey.

#A Household Hero #Survival home remedies

0 notes

drvitaltips · 8 months ago

Link

#howlongdoesstrepthroatlastwithoutantibiotics #StrepThroat

0 notes

smbwana-online · 1 year ago

Text

Preparing For Your First Period | Comic Week 13 - created on Corel Painter.

Lately, Nolo and her mum have been hard at work collecting the necessary items for a first-period home-survival kit and travel-emergency kit. The two kits share many of the same items, so let’s first look at the products that Nolo keeps in both.

Naturally, the first and perhaps most important item Nolo has is pads. There are many menstrual products that girls can use from pads to tampons to menstrual cups. However, for a first period, a pad may be easiest and most comfortable to use.

Tissues are useful to pack into both kits as well. A first period may illicit a lot of emotions or perhaps a mishap like getting some menstrual blood on your clothes may upset you. Having some tissues around allows you to have a good cry when you need one. When speaking of mishaps, wet wipes are a vital product to have. Periods can be messy and a wet wipe can clean up any mess with ease – just remember to discard them in a bin and not in the toilet!

Nolo’s mum is comfortable with her using pain relievers so she has provided her with a few to store in both kits. If your parents allow you to make use of them, it’s always good to have one or two on you at this time. With periods come cramps, headaches and other aches and pains that may be too much to bear, so having some relievers may make it easier on you. Next is deodorant: did you know that during your period many experience strong body odour? Having some deodorant with you, at home or at school, can keep you fresh all day and keep the B.O away.

And finally, we come to the true heroine of any girl’s period: chocolate! No period kit would be complete without a little stash of chocolate to get you through the tears, cramps and cravings. A bit of chocolate may help to improve your mood, boost your energy sugar or just make you some comfort when needed. Dark chocolate, choc-a-bloc with magnesium and omega-6 fatty acids can help relax those cramping muscles.

Now that we’ve seen what Nolo keeps in both kits, lets venture into the products that are exclusively for home or travel use. For school and anywhere outside the house, Nolo keeps a cute travel pouch in which she carries all of her necessities. This is a much easier and more discreet option than dumping everything into her school bag. Nolo’s mum also gives her a little bit of loose change to stash away in case she finds herself in need of something she doesn’t already have (like more chocolate). Lastly, an extra pair or two of underwear is incredibly important for Nolo to keep in her travel pouch.

For home, Nolo keeps a hot water bottle that she will use on her tummy if her cramps become too much to handle. A bit of warmth on the area can help to ease the pain and relax the muscles. In her home kit, she also keeps a bright purple sticky note with the bold letters stating “DRINK WATER” to remind her to stay hydrated at a time when her body will need it most. Lastly, and what her mum believes to be most important for any girl, is a journal for her thoughts and feelings. Periods, especially the first, can bring about a lot of emotions. Having a private journal to express and explore your thoughts is important for any young girl going on a journey as epic as this one.

Now that you’ve seen what Nolo has in her kits, making your own for yourself or your friends should be a breeze!

Illustrated and written for the IAMFORHER Foundation's educational program on puberty and menstruation for children and adolescents.

#smbwana: educational #smbwana: comics #smbwana: digital art #smbwana: writing #smbwana: iafh

0 notes

myimmortalfan666 · 1 year ago

Note

Erm, here's the parody I made! It uses characters I like from an anime called Love Live Sunshine, which I don't think you're familiar with but hopefully doesn't ruin the enjoyability of this or anything. For some context, "mikans" are a type of mandarin orange and "µ's" is a group in the universe of the show. I also forgot the change one description of the main character's outfit (woopsy daisy.)

I was about to stab myself with the silver knife that my mom had lent me in case I needed to cut something. She had told me to use it valiantly against sausages or something but I knew that me and Hanamaru must both go together.

“NO!” I THOUGHT IT WAS CHIca but it was Lily. She started to scream. “OMFG! NOOOOO! NOT THE DOGS!” and then….. her eyes rolled up! You could only see her red whites.

I stopped. “How did u know?”

“I saw it! And my phobia came back!”

“NO!” I ran up closer. “I thought you weren't scared of dogs anymore!” I shouted.

“I am but my time helping you take care of Laelaps lessened it and I always hide it with my poker face.” she said back. “Anyway my head hurt and I saw horrible dog visions! Save me! then I had a vision of what was happening to Hanamaru…………….Seint Snow has her kidnap!”

Anyway I was in the school nurse’s office now recovering from my stabbed tummy. Yo and CHEKA were there too. They were going to a different school after they recovered cause they were losers and this school was getting closed down anyway. Mari had constipated the cideo camera they took of me dancing. I put up my middle finger at them.

Anyway Chica came into my hospital bed holding a bowl of mikans.

“Yohane I need to tell u somethnig.” she said in a v. serious voice, giving me the mikans.

“Fuck off.” I told her. “You know I fucking hate mikans anyway, and I don’t like fucked up school idols like you.” I snapped. Chica had been mean to me before for being a fallen angel.

“No Yohane.” Chica says. “Those are not mikans.”

“What, are they demons too you poser angel?” I asked cause I was angry that she had brought me mikans.

“I saved your life!” She yelled angrily. “No you didn’t I replied.” “You saved me from getting a school idol music video made from your tomfoolery and being vued by Yo.” Who DANSED (c is dat speld rong) to it she added silently.

“Whatever!” I yelled angirly.

She pointed her finger at the mikans. “These aren’t mikans.” She suddenly looked at them with an evil look in her eye and muttered Todokete Setsunasa ni wa Namae o tsukeyou ka snOW HALATION! .

“That’s not a spell that’s a µ's song.” I corrected her wisely.

“I know, I was just warming up my vocal cordes.” Then she screamed. “Petulus merengo myuzu(4 all u cool goffic muse fans out, there, that is a tribute!)snowo halationo!”

And then the mikans turned into a huge black flame floating in the middle of the air. And it was black. Now I knew she was a little demon.

“OK I believe you now wtf is Hanamaru?”

Cheka rolled h eyes. I looked into the balls of flame but I could c nothing.

“U c, Yohimby,” Mawi said, watching the two of us watching the flame. “2 c wht iz n da flmes(HAHA U REVIEWRS FLAMES GEDDIT) u mst find urslf 1st, k?”

“I HAVE FOUND MYSELF OK YOU MEAN OLD WOMAN!” Chica yelled. mAWi lookd shockd. I guess she didn’t have a headache or else she would have said something back.

Chica stormed off back into her bed. “U r a liar, chairwoman marii!”

Anyway when I got better I went upstairs and put on a black leather minidress that was all ripped on the ends with lace on it. There was some corset stuff on the front. Then I put on black fishnets and black high-heeled boots with pictures of µ's members on them. I put my hair all out around me so I looked like Samara from the Ring (if u don’t know who she iz ur a prep so fuk off!) and I put on blood-red lipstick, black eyeliner and black lip gloss.

“You look kawai, girl.” Wooby said sadly. “Fangs (geddit) you do too.” I said sadly too, but I was still upset. I stabbed myself feeling totally depressed and I drank all the blood. I cried again in my bathroom and put the shades and mask on so Yo couldn’t spy on me this time. I went to some classes. Riri was in the math class. She looked all depressed because Hanamaru had disappeared and she had used to be in love with Hanamaru. She was sucking some blood from a first year.

“Hi.” she said in a depressed way. “Hi back.” I said in an wqually said way.

We both looked at each other for some time. Riko had beautiful golden eyes so much like Hanamaru. Then……… we jumped on each other and started smooching each other.

“STOP IT NOW YOU HOMOSEXUAL DUNDERHEADS!” shouted Daia the student council president who was watching us and so was everyone else.

“Lily you fucker!” I said slapping her. “Stop trying to smooch me. You know I loved Hanamaru!” I shouted and then I ran away angrily.

Just then she started to scream. “OMFG! NOOOOO! NOT THE DOGS!” and then….. her eyes rolled up! You could only see her red whites.

I stopped. “How did u know?”

“I saw it! And my phobia came back!”

“NO!” I ran up closer. “I thought you weren't scared of dogs anymore!” I shouted.

this gave me a laugh! thank you anon

#my immortal #ebony dark'ness dementia raven way #ask #love live sunshine #MORE PEOPLE SHOULD DO THIS THESE ARE A TREAT!!!!

1 note · View note

gurugirl · 2 years ago

Text

The Queen's Secret Chapter 8*

Summary: Harry doesn't show up for their next session and the Queen decides it's time to make a deal with him after she's made up her mind about what she wants.

Warning: Smut, some pining, a little angst

The Queen’s Secret Masterlist

Chapter 7*

Chapter 8*

Sleep and peace did not come easy for the Queen that night. She hadn’t realized the damage she’d caused the sweetest soul she’d ever met. She didn’t know that Harry would react the way he did, that he would be so hurt by her pushing him away. She thought it was for the best. She thought he’d understand and maybe even appreciate it in the long run. She didn’t expect for him to be angry about it. To be distant and cold. That hurt. The way he could barely look at her and that he’d been so upset over it.

She knew there was something there. Possibly deeper feelings developing between them, she felt them very clearly herself. She knew she could let herself fall in love if she were free to. But she wasn’t, and that was the problem. They couldn’t. So wasn’t this the best way to go about it? Wouldn’t the distance be better for them in the end?

The Queen’s mind was replaying over and over the way Harry was with her during their session. How he didn’t want her to touch him, and then how he kissed her but it was different than any kiss they’d shared before. The way he cried, how honest he was but still unwilling to soften toward her. She’d broken his heart, hadn’t she? That was never her intention. She wanted to make this easier for them, not harder. But it seemed her method backfired.

She wasn’t equipped for this kind of thing. Who could be really? What could they do? How could they have each other and also keep the things they’d worked so hard for? Was love worth losing everything else? And what if it wasn’t really love? What if this blew up in their faces and they lost everything in the process. It surely wouldn’t be worth it then. So how does one know if it’s worth it? Is love with the risk when it might not even be love to begin with?

Edgar had learned from Gertrude that Harry seemed very loving toward her as of late. That he’d been especially present for the kids and she felt like he was only confused for a short time, but back to his senses. Gertrude knew something had happened between the Queen and her husband but figured it was momentary. And she’d given him permission to be with the Queen after all, and she knew what Harry was like. His need for touch and sweetness had been a big problem for them when she felt it became too much after their second kid together. She felt he’d realized how silly he was being and now was back to normal behavior again.

But that didn’t mean she was okay with another round for the Queen and Harry. But they did have a duty to the Kingdom and Gertrude was invested as the sister to the King and so she knew it was only temporary and that once the Queen conceived, things could go back to the way they were before. It couldn’t come soon enough.

This news was a relief to the king. He didn’t need the headache of the Queen, his wife, falling for his brother-in-law. The kingdom would absolutely lose respect for the crown if that were to happen. And that could not, under any circumstance, happen. He overlooked the small bruises he saw on her hips all those weeks ago, and the way the Queen seemed upset and on edge but then things faded, bruises and all, and the King was once again feeling secure in his title and his marriage.

The Queen stood with the guard at 5pm in wait for Harry. After fifteen minutes of waiting, she knew he wasn’t coming. It felt sour, acrid. Her tummy simmered in upset and worry. She excused the guard and went to the room by herself. Inside she let her tears cover her face and sobbed by herself. She still hadn’t figured out what she wanted. Harry didn’t tell her outright, but she knew if she wanted to see his dimples again, to see the cheeky smirk and hear his handsome laugh she’d need to let a part of herself be his. She’d need to allow herself to love him and risk being hurt and losing everything.

She sniffed and wiped her tears and wanted to scream. Why couldn’t this be an easy decision? The way she’d kept him at arm’s length was meant to create the distance she felt was needed. And now that Harry was giving her the distance she thought they needed she hated it. She wanted him. But she hated the idea that she was going to share him or that she would be shared herself.

Y/n opened up her messages and began to text Harry. She wasn’t sure what to say. But she needed to do something before she lost him completely. Before he cut her out and ignored her forever. She couldn’t have that. Couldn’t live without a bit of him. Just a little piece if that’s all that could be had. She wanted all of him but she’d be okay with just the leftovers if she must. It was better than nothing. It wasn’t ideal but she realized she’d rather have remnants than nothing at all.

To Prince Harry: We should talk. I’m in our chambers. There is no guard. I’ll be here for one more hour. Please come.

She had her doubts that he would show up. She hoped he would. They couldn’t go out in public and hash out a deal about how they’d keep up a sordid affair behind their spouses’ backs. They had to do this in private.

The Queen paced the room. He hadn’t responded. He hadn’t shown up and half an hour had gone by. Had he blocked her number? That was certainly possible and the Queen wouldn’t blame him. She considered blocking his number weeks ago as well, but for the purpose of moving on out of necessity. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the idea that he would have blocked her, though. It would have been because he was hurt by her actions, not out of necessity.

Every minute that passed felt like fire in her heart and acid in her guts. She’d wait the hour like she said but as the hour drew near, she felt less confident that he’d show up. It was what she deserved. She didn’t deserve any part of the Prince. He was too sweet and gentle and she’d been too cold and heartless with him. Just the way he’d described Gertrude when they talked about their sad marriages.

When the door opened slowly Y/n turned quickly and saw Harry enter the room, head down. He closed the door behind him and lifted his face to the Queen and their eyes met.

He was so beautiful and absolutely perfect. A rare gem with a heart of gold. How could she not return his affection?

“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to ever hurt you. But… will you sit with me?” She moved toward him but didn’t want to get too close in case he didn’t want her in his space.

He sniffed and nodded and moved to the sitting area of the room. The Queen sat across from him in the armchair and continued, “I want…” she breathed and felt her resolution solidify when she looked at him and saw the bags under his eyes, his lashes wet, face solemn, “you. I can’t be without you.” Harry’s eyes widened when he looked up to her and he appeared taken aback. As if it hadn’t been what he expected to hear her say.

“I was scared, but after yesterday, I realized it’s scarier to not have you at all.” She watched his face as he took in her words. His lips parted slightly and he blinked hard and looked down at his lap to where his hands were.

“I want to give as much of myself to you as possible. Without anyone finding out, though. Let’s take the chance, if you still want. Which, I understand if you do not…”

Harry lifted his head and his brow was furrowed, “Do not lie to me right now, Y/n. I cannot handle it, not even one more time. Even my children were worried about me when I was depressed because of your silence. I am in no shape to deal with this all over again. If you mean it then you’ll make me very happy, but if you don’t, if you have even a second thought about this, please leave me alone. My heart cannot take it.”

Y/n got up from her chair and nearly tripped on her dress to rush to Harry’s feet. She knelt in front of him and put her hands on his knees and looked up at him, “I mean it. Harry I… I haven’t ever felt for anyone the way I feel for you. I’m worried, of course, but I think you’re worth it. As long as you feel the same.”

Harry clenched his jaw and looked upward toward the ceiling. He knew the best course would be to keep his distance, but how could he when he was meant to be getting her pregnant? How could he when she made his heart pump wildly in his chest and the mere sight of her kicked the air from his lungs every time. He couldn’t pretend there was nothing there, though he tried.

Harry brought his face back down to see the Queen with her hands flat on his knees, her eyes on his. He could see that she’d been crying and now she was on the floor at his feet. He slowly brought his hands up to cover hers and nodded, “I do feel the same. Still.”

With that Y/n lifted herself and put her arms around the Prince’s shoulders and kissed him in excitement. Harry put his hands at her waste and she climbed into his lap with her lips on his. The excited kiss turned into a soft and sacred one. A kiss that meant they would be for each other. They would risk the losses and the risk would be worth it. A kiss that meant they would open up to one another and allow their hearts to be fulfilled, to be complete. It was full of vulnerability and felt like plugging your nose before diving off the tallest cliff into deep water but trusting you’d land safely somehow.

Because the hour had passed and their spouses would wonder where they were, they couldn’t take the time to make love or sit too long together. But they did discuss some guidelines for their relationship. Things that needed to be laid out and some things that they probably should have talked about before but never did.

Harry kept her in his lap as they spoke and he kissed her frequently. His lips moved over her neck as she spoke and her tongue licked over his jaw when he responded. They ended their meeting with a kiss that had them nearly tearing one another’s clothes off. Harry’s dick was hard and so he had to have the Queen give him some space so he could calm down before leaving their chambers.

“Sorry. I just need to cool off a little.” He said when her feet hit the floor and he stood up, realizing the time. They stayed apart as Harry paced the room and they talked about next month’s volunteer station for the town’s people that the Queen would be heading. Harry said he’d join as well to help. It would be a way for them to see one another, even if for just a glance.

When Harry had calmed enough that his erection wouldn’t be too noticeable, they kissed in parting and he left before she did.

The shift that had taken place after their talk made everything around the Queen feel softer and sweeter. She would look forward to tomorrow’s session and Harry would too. Her heart felt lighter even though she knew this was dangerous. She wanted it. She needed it.

Harry was able to breathe again.

“You seem very happy today, my love. I like to see you smile.” Edgar commented when they were both in their bedroom getting ready to settle into bed for the night.

“It was a nice day. The volunteer committee is coming into place. I think we’ve got a good, reliable group this time. And I bought a new book to begin this week, which I’ve been looking forward to reading. Didn’t have the chance to start it today, though.” Y/n smiled as she spoke. She knew that Edgar would try and have sex with her, and it would be in her best interest to let him so he didn’t get suspicious. Though, now that she and Harry were on good terms again, she’d be imagining the prince was the one fucking her tonight. She no longer even cared that it was probably terrible to imagine another man inside of her, but her heart had never really belonged to Edgar.

“And how was your session with Prince Harry?” He folded the blankets down and climbed into bed as the Queen removed her robe and hung it up.

She and Harry discussed this. They’d say Harry didn’t feel well and didn’t show up. They could have lied and said the session went as planned, but the guard that was on duty knew that Harry didn’t show up so they had to cover all their bases just in case the guard was asked. Harry would tell Gertrude that he’d gotten sick on the way to the session and had to rest in the castle for an hour before going home. It was a believable story.

“Well, Harry didn’t show up but then I found out that he fell sick. So, we’ll try again tomorrow, I think. I don’t know much more than that.” She climbed into the bed with her husband and tried not to focus on the way he made her skin crawl these days.

“Ahh… I didn’t realize he got sick.” The lights were turned off and the King lifted Y/n’s nightgown and began to initiate sex. Even after Y/n told the King that he rarely pleased her or brought her to orgasm, he never changed his ways. It was as if that conversation had never happened. Not a single thing about the way he approached intimacy had changed. He never even asked her about it again or what he could do differently so that she would enjoy intimacy with him.

But the Queen was grateful that it was dark in the room. The shadow of the man above her, thrusting into her could be Harry. But she could easily feel the difference between Harry’s girth and the King’s. She closed her eyes and pretended and somehow it helped. So much so that when she slipped her fingers in between their bodies as the King continued his ministrations she was able to get herself to orgasm.

It shocked her a little. She had been so worked up with Harry before and now imagining him, and the feel of her fingers at her clit worked like a charm. She’d do this from now on if she were in the mood to orgasm. The King came inside of her, with his false load and he grunted, then rolled over to fall asleep.

Harry, on the other hand, didn’t have a warm body to fuck and pretend with. Gertrude had found that Harry had gotten a little sick (which he had to pretend to be when he came home) and so she told him to bathe and she made him tea and sent him to bed. Harry was not expecting that Gertrude would want to have sex with him anyway so he locked the bathroom door and closed his eyes as he masturbated and imagined the Queen sucking him off. He was half hard anyway from kissing her and knowing he’d get to have her again the following day.

Harry and Y/n locked themselves in their room as soon as they’d gotten inside. Today’s session was going to be so much better than the last two. The King wouldn’t be waiting for them but they still didn’t want to get too loose with their time so no one would question what took too long.

Harry gently pressed himself to the Queen and began untying her dress to remove it. She was naked underneath and already wet for him. They had texted all day and some of the messages got a bit heated and detailed about what they wanted, so they were both more than ready when the time came.

He kissed her as he smoothed his hands down her sides and as he lowered them he brought himself to his knees before her. He pecked at her breasts and then her belly and took her right thigh in his hand, lifting her leg over his shoulder. She was pushed against the door of the room as Harry connected his lips to the Queen’s center, moist and ready. She kept herself upright with one leg on the floor and her hands in his hair, her back leant into the door.

She sighed and smiled into the room when she felt the Prince’s lips on her. And even though he’d been hasty in taking her clothes off and licking at her cunt (he couldn’t even wait to get her into the bed), he was still being gentle and thorough with her. He was always thorough even when they lacked time.

Harry put his hands onto her bottom and pressed her into his face so he could have her pussy as close as possible. He smacked over her cunt and pulled her wet labia into his mouth and stuck his tongue into her folds and up over her clit. He was hungry for her and she could feel it in her body the way Harry was malnourished.

“Harry… oh my god…” she closed her eyes and leaned her head into the door behind her as her ravished her center with his tongue and his lips.

He looked up to see her breasts peaked and soft and he was plumping up thickly in his pants. He couldn’t wait wrap his lips around her nipples and push his cock into her soft pussy. He just wanted to show her all his appreciation.

The room seemed to spin around the queen. The only thing grounding her was Harry’s mouth on her pussy and his hands on her ass when she came in his mouth. She’d never come standing up, pushed against a wall (or door in this case), while being eaten out. Of course, there were a lot of firsts with Harry.

He licked her up and then kissed the top of her cunt gently before moving back and looking up at Y/n. She was leaning into the door, her legs still shaky from her orgasm. Harry held her steady.

Harry stood up and pulled her body into his arms and kissed her. The kiss was similar to their kiss the night before. Soft and meaningful. Full of promise and feeling. She didn’t know how she was going to put up with anything less than what Harry would offer her. The King certainly wasn’t up to par. Not anymore. But she couldn’t think this way. It was what got her too in her head and made her push Harry away in the first place. It was the idea that she wouldn’t be able to have this when she wanted. She thought it would be easier for them to be apart and not warm with one another, but that was too painful. It would be better to have him like this than not at all.

“Mmm… I missed it. That taste. How wet you get. Fuck…” Harry had his own thoughts about everything. He didn’t care that he and the Queen wouldn’t always be able to be together. That they’d have to be secret and sneaky. He just wanted to be able to show his heart to her when he had the chance, even if it wasn’t often. He needed it. He was able to give and receive love and sweetness with his children but that was such a different kind of love. Such a different way of revealing yourself that, as precious as it was to him, it just wasn’t fulfilling his need for it.

“I missed you, Harry.” The Queen said and she pulled his shirt from his pants to untuck and to begin unbuttoning him. He’d not removed any of his clothes. She wanted to see him and touch him. His strong body was attractive and masculine and it deserved to be displayed. She loved looking at his tattoos and the bit of hair over his chest, his broad shoulders and the softness over his muscles on his torso. His strong thighs that held up his heavy dick… he was perfection to her.

When he’d disrobed she knelt down and put his cock in her hand and delicately kissed up his shaft and looked up at the Prince while doing so. He put a hand on the wall and spread his legs slightly as he watched his Queen go down on him. Such a pretty mouth that stretched easily over him. Her pink tongue lapped at his flesh and moistened his length. He moaned at the intimacy of it.

She took him down her throat for a few moments but Harry really just wanted to put his cock between her legs and come inside of her cunt. He’d missed it. The last time it happened their session was shrouded in sadness and guilt and that sick feeling of loss and despair. Today would be different. Things would be different from now on.

He let her suck on him for a bit longer so he could enjoy the way it felt to have her warm mouth on him and swallowing around his tip. He never got this anywhere else. It was a treat.

“Let’s go to the bed, my love.” He spoke softly when she pulled off him for breath. He helped her up and they climbed into the bed and laid in it facing one another on their sides. The Queen quickly put her thigh over Harry’s hip and rubbed her pussy over his erection and pressed her lips on his. Harry pulled her close, his hand at her bottom and rejoiced in the feel of her pressed into his body and how sweet it was to have her like this.

There weren’t many words to be said. They’d texted all the things they’d wanted to say and yesterday spoke about things they should have from the beginning. This moment was for being close and sharing their hearts and their bodies.

Harry angled himself and put his tip to the Queen’s entrance and pressed upward to slide inside. It was tight and perfect. Y/n held on to his shoulder as he fucked into her slowly.

They stared at one another as they moved as one. There couldn’t have been a better way to come back together. Soft, slow, delicious, and wet. It felt like the building of something intense and lovely and the crumbling of cold fortified walls. No more coldness or distance. They would be for one another, even if only from time to time.

Harry wanted to run away with the Queen and show her himself without abandon. Show her his heart and tell her that he loved her, because he felt like he did. But he was hesitant because it wasn’t that easy. He had children and the Queen had her kingdom. These things could not be taken with them if they were to choose each other above everything else.

The Queen felt her heart pump hard and was finally at ease with her Prince inside of her, watching her, whispering her name. He felt so real and final. He was it for her. He had to be. She’d never find anyone like him. He was so perfect and their connection was genuine. It was heavy and penetrating, the feelings she’d developed for him. She loved him.

“Harry… Harry…” she whispered his name back to him and he paused the bucking of his hips to press his lips to hers and push his tongue into her mouth. They both began to cry when they felt the intensity of everything around them. It was impossible but it was still beautiful. Their hearts felt whole.

“I love you, Harry.” She spoke against his mouth and Harry let out a shaky breath and blinked his eyes. He wasn’t expecting her to tell him she loved him. He thought he was alone in those feelings. He adjusted their position and pushed his arm under her to hold her closer to his body. He squeezed her and kissed her nose and let his tears fall.

“I’ve wanted to tell you how much I love you. I can’t believe you love me too. I love you, Y/n. I love you. I love you.” He was elated. He kept them on their sides facing one another but now he had both arms around her. He pushed his lips into her temple and thanked all the deities and all the energies of the world that he could think of that her love was returned to him. It felt impossible. It felt incredible.

When his emotional state had subsided and he felt her warm body and her hips moved gently to urge him for more he began to roll into her deeply. He kept her body pressed to his because he needed to feel her as close as possible.

They panted and groaned. It felt so perfect and so right. Y/n kissed his jaw and breathed into his neck as his cock reached deep into her.

“Of course I love you. How could anyone not?” She spoke against his neck and he whimpered. It was all he wanted. Her love. They couldn’t freely be together but to have her love and her promise of it was enough for now. His sensitive heart was bursting with joy.

She had to hold on tight when he moved his hips into her faster. His long dick poking her insides deliciously caused her to yelp when he dipped in each time.

“Yes! Yes… yes… Harry…” she chanted at each long thrust. She felt him everywhere. He felt like love and sweetness and devotion. His body and the way he fucked her was just a bonus of course, and it was what brought them together, but their feelings were real and they’d be bound together now.

Y/n couldn’t help it when she came around his cock, clenching and pulsing and squeezing. She groaned and put her mouth to his neck to muffle the sound and her nipples blossomed and goosebumps covered her skin when she orgasmed in his arms. She didn’t ever want to leave this moment.

Harry thrusted himself into her wetness and the noise of it filtered in between their bodies.

“So creamy for me, my love... Just like I like... You’re so perfect... Going to give me beautiful babies…” he gasped and panted between words as he began to orgasm and throb inside of her. He stuffed her fully, releasing his sperm deep into her guts. She was fertile and ready to be bred by him.

He rode out his high slowly with meaningful strokes, making sure to keep as much of his come inside of her cunt as was possible. He licked over her mouth and they connected their lips as their centers remained attached.

Their breathing slowed and the Queen tilted her head back to look at her Prince. Beautiful and gentle and lovely. She brought a hand up to caress his chin and his jawline, push his hair through her fingers and dance her fingertips over his lips… His heart was hers. He’d wanted Gertrude to have it for so long but she didn’t want much of it. Harry wasn’t the kind to let his heart be split into two. A part for his wife and a part for the Queen. He wasn’t built that way. His whole heart would only belong to one person. It needed to stay intact. So he chose to give it to Y/n because she wanted it and she gave him hers.

“I’m yours. My love, my heart, everything. For you.” His look was severe and hopeful.

The Queen smiled and kissed his nose, “Thank you. I’m yours, Harry. Every part of me. You can have it. No one else is as gentle with me as you are. No one else loves me like you. I want all of me to be yours.”

There wasn’t any way for Harry to express with words how happy that made him. And she didn’t need the words to know it. She felt it. The way he looked at her, the way his mouth covered hers, the way his hand brought hers to hold over his heart. She understood it and she would never do anything to push him away again.

They only allowed themselves a few more moments to stay wrapped up in one another before they reluctantly parted for the evening with smiles on their faces and joy in their bones.

Chapter 9*

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it’s all appreciated.

Check out my masterlist if you enjoyed this 💞

Xoxo

Tags: @victoria-styles @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @harrys-foxy @immadeoutofspace @harrysbitchbabe @daphnesutton @matildasatellite @duh-dobrik @sadeslovechild @closureesny @immadeoutofspace @belovedinbloom @be-with-me-so-happily @sushiirestaurant @melllinaa @theroosterswife24

#harry styles smut #royal au #prince!harry #queen!reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fic

340 notes · View notes

muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

Soft dom harry makes subby reader upset subspace?

MEANIE ANGRY H :D BUCKLE UP FELLAS

Y/N's day is been shitty so far. It started with an ache in her lower abdomen from Harry’s morning stiffy bulging against her asscheeks fattening everytime he snuggled into her to hoard her warmth and blankies and to stuff his face in her neck with incoherent blabbering.

She wanted to wake him up with her hand, mouth, hole— anything around his cock and to please him and dull the burny feeling in her tummy -- but -- she had an important workshop at UNI that was must needed to be attended.

The time she managed to knock herself out of her needy and lusty headspace, she was getting late and whirling around the room and closest like a thunderstorm -- burying a snoring Harry under the heaps of clothes and littering the floor with her shoes collection, the kitchen got treated much more worst with maids being not around (she’s used to Harry waking up earlier than her and making her a full course brekkie) after making a laughable ruckus of cabinets all she stuffed her mouth with was a chocolate protein bar.

The stars were still not in her favour. She was grabbing onto her hair until far when she missed the bus (she usually don’t take buses, Harry makes sure the driver drop her off safe and secure) and it started raining leaving Y/N with nothing but a bare head to take all of it as she already left the bus shelter to stop a taxi.

If all of that wasn’t much of a tragedy and humiliating, Y/N slipped the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and on the slippery curbs of the building, she saw her life flashing right infront of her eyes as the papers tucked in her armpit fled everywhere and landed on the rainy mud sadistically along her. It gave her a serious hit in her ankle and completely yanked her hip, still being a stubborn-head she picked herself and went inside despite how many glares the cleaning staff threw her way for bringing the dirt with her feed all over the shiny floors.

She felt bad.

Stupidly bad.

Her workshop teachers were kind enough to accept her late arrival, but her designs for fall got rejected and they’d have been a huge milestone for her to get her dream internship.

Y/N felt awfully, teeny, pathetic and little while slumping into the corner of the bus and holding her breath to refrain from crying these little liquidy bitches out of her eyes.

Reaching back home she was met with pure chaos, bumping into petrified and agitated employs from Harry’s company scurrying out of their main foyer and she could persist but to ask what happened only to be informed in stammers that the staff messed up big and caused a loss of million dollars— making Harry terribly mad and fire people left and right.

It wasn’t a joke at all.

Because once, she steps inside, bag falling from her shoulder as she sighs in exhaustion feeling her muscles stiffening everywhere but one particular spot's hurting wrenchingly— her foggy mind couldn’t figure it out yet. She peeks into Harry’s home office to be met by a very annoyed, aggrieved, furious Harry pacing in his office all whilst with a phone against his ear shouting at someone who was destined to be humiliated today just like her and she pouts gingerly seeing his features skewered tightly into displeasure, the vein that curves along his temple prominent with blood pumping erratically in his body.

His head snaps up at the door’s creak and albeit his eyes softens a little, the kink of brows and the scowl on his lips is still there and he watches her paddle towards him carefully knowing anything at the moment would burst his chimneys out and she wants to be good for her daddy.

“Hi.” She speaks timidly, pout getting more rusty when the greetings not returned and instead he keeps all of his attention on the phone keeping a loose arm around her.

She grumbles, when he gestures down at her to give him a sec and untangles himself from her walking away and huffing and puffing into the phone.

How could he!

She feels so denied and rejected and kicked like it’s done to those affection starved lil puppies.

Her clingy tendencies flying high drunk and wooly. The needy beastie inside her wanting nothing more than take a bath where Harry could cream her back in her favourite berry bubbles, massaging her head and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, then lots and lots of cuddles, maybe he'll be generous enough and let her keep him snug inside her while they watch movie because she had such an awful day.

But, No! He's trying to escape free from her because she’s such a burden for him now.

Her eyes turns glassy, her shoulders slumping sadly and out of nowhere she’s feeling cold and barren as Harry’s voice becomes a wafting fume for her— an indication she has gone under too much.

“Daddy . . .” She stomps behind him, circling his footsteps like a whiny puppy and grapples at his dress shirt gasping sullenly when he swats her dainty hands away and glares down at her in dominance, his tone harsh as he blocks the receiver with his palm and mouths at her with a huff, “Stop being needy fo’ once. I’ve clearly some important issues to care for, Y/N.” Poor Y/N's deathly grip on his shirt loosens sorrowfully and her chin wobbles as she nodded still wanting to be good for him and if it wasn’t enough to give her the biggest heartbreak of the year— he even rolled his eyes at her too grumping under his breath about something how he turned her into a spoiled brat himself.

“Okie. . .” Her voice strangled and small. She shrinks into herself but wasn’t paid any heed from Harry and without another word she leaves him as to be it.

Having a huge breakdown in her room didn’t help at all. A painful headache hitting her like a train as she clumsily strips down, wearing one of his t-shirt heavily drenched in his scent he keeps for her under her pillow anytime she needs it and hides under the blankets with tears still running down her swollen cheeks— slipping into a light slumber from all of weariness and crying.

Once the smoke cleared from Harry’s mind and his capabilities of rational thinking coming back to him, he was reminded of how he denied his baby of his littlest of affection and tenderness when she clearly looked so glum and sad and upset.

He wanted to whip himself in head.

He’s such a twat that he let work come between them.

He curses himself. Making a sprint to his bedroom, knowing he’d find her none other than there and he was right puffing out a disheartened sigh when his eyes falls over his princess buried under all of these layers of blankets, he crawls up towards her carefully not to startle her awake.

Grunting at himself when he finds she’s been crying, he strokes a thumb up her blushy cheeks and her wet lashes, kissing her puffy eyelids and her little sad unhappy pout away.

He frowns. Feeling her feverish and flushed under his hand, “Hey puppy . . .” He thumbs down her throat getting a little fretful when she doesn’t stirs, however she’s such a squirmy little one and he moves the blankets away to let her body cool itself smiling proudly at his shirt swallowing her whole is when she snuggled herself more into her stuffie letting the shirt ride up her thighs and hips exposing a ghastly bruise of red and purples and he frowns not remembering it being there before.

Now. He feels shittier. Wanting to jump of the cliff for being a shitty sadist boyfriend to his only beloved.

“No!” Y/N whimpers loudly, squirming away from his touch as he examines her gently and it sent shockwaves to each of her tissues and lions causing her an undeniable pain.

“Puppy, shh, shh. ‘s just me, making sure if y'okay.” He scrambles closer to her towering her to cradle her face and kiss the tip of her nose—- his face falls drastically and his heart cracks miserly when Y/N pushes him away with a sorrowful mumble not even letting him wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth as he usually does.

“’M okay . . .” She tries to knuckle the sleepiness away with shivery hands, “No you’re not —...” He’s cut off by her angry pout and her silly efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible, “I don’t need, Daddy . . ‘m big and I could take care of me self.” At her puny waver realization dawns upon Harry and his brows shoots up to his hairline feeling nauseous and terrible for not taking care of his babylove earlier.

He’d have never let her be away from him if he knew she was in her subspace.

“Y/N baby . . . I didn’t mean it, darling —--...” With gentleness he tries to approach her but she wraps her arms around her petite figure in a protective manner, haziness taking best of her and Harry’s chest suffocates into itself, being a dom it’s your responsibility to make your subby feel protected, loved and happy and he even failed at that.

He quickly cups both of her hot cheeks in his nippy palms when she hiccups sadly, a sob threatening to slip out, “Yes you did! You meant it. Said you spoiled me, I don’t want your money, promise! I just want you and y'shooed me away saying Y/N’s too needy . . .” Harry flinches at her words. He never even spared a thought to this negativity that she chooses to be with him for his money because he knows out of all the people she’s the only one who loves him out of the boundaries of status and money.

He realises how stabbing they'd have been to her when she was so sensitive and floaty wanting nothing more, just him.

How deep she has gone if she’s taking her own name in third person.

“’M sorry baby. So sorry. Swear on myself, didn’t mean to hurt my baby, knows tha’ work shouldn’t be an excuse t’ make y'feel unloved—- but those bastards got a tick outta me.” He rambles on frantically. Afraid she’ll think he’s lying and would finally make up her mind to leave him.

“You didn’t?” She asks with so much innocence Harry nearly cries out, “’Course I didn’t! How could I? You could never be needy, Bab. I love you so much and you’re my whole word, forgive me please?”

“You’re forgiven,” She let a small smile flutter up her features, a tinge of gleam in her previous dull eyes brightening the whole room and Harry immediately bunches her up in his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, not sure if she still needs space from him and would rather be better without him but she bobs her head shyly and he chuckles softly before touching their lips together into a tender loving kiss and brushes their noses up and down murmuring sweetly coy to her.

“Now, could y'tell daddy how y'got this bruise baby? How did ya get hurt?” He coos, brushing her sweaty hair back and rubs her sweet gland behind her ear delicately, “Oh yeah . . . this, was raining and slipped.” She murmurs, hissing a gasp jolting away when Harry glides his fingers gently down her hip bone and fresh tears springs in her eyes as she buries herself in his chest, “Daddy hurts. . .” . “Oh babypie. Daddy’s g'na take care of his love.” He lays her down gently kissing her forehead when she whines for him to keep on holding her, “’M right here darling. G'na prep us a bath, make my baby alright.” Saying this he quickly disappears inside the washroom and next their room’s sursuring with marble tub filling with warm water, Harry throws in her favourite pink coloured bath bombs and rose essences and throws their towels in the warmer coming back with her as he left her to be, he has decided he’s gonna love on her whole night, “My baby’s the best, ain’t she? She’s my bestest girl.” He coos down at her sweetly and slides his forearms under her knees and back picking her up carefully and brings her to his chest securely.

She closes her eyes, biting down a whimper when Harry dips them in the water some it sloshing down the edges of bathtub and it envelopes them and gives a stingy feeling to her bruise before soothing it down.

He rubs her arms, and circles smoothing patterns on her tummy and kisses her a gallons as she melts in his embrace and he let’s her sink into him more, nibbling and sponging wet ticklish kisses on her neck making her purr and become a puddle of softness in his hold while she takes her time to mumble all the bad events that happened to her and he felt so guilty of not asking her how she’s and how her day went when she came to him, in need of some of his lovin.

“I love you so much, bab.” He suckles her earlobe, toying and plucking her bottom plush lip, “Was prick to me love —.. you deserve all my lovin,” He noses at her jaw, not forgetting it to mark it with his pecks and sloppy bites.

“’S okay daddy, y'had a bad day too.” He’s grateful to have her in his life. She cares about him, maybe more than he does for her and he feels himself lucky for it.

“You want me to help you relax?”

“Can I have you?” Her tone bashfully desperate and coy, Harry meanders their fingers together and kisses her knuckles softly.

Considering her wound still being sore and pulp, having sex would be painful for her and she might not grasp it in her hazy mind but Harry doesn’t want to hurt at all.

He plants a little noisy smooch to her shoulder when she nods, she mews and purrs when Harry glides his palm all the way down her body and cups her pussy digging his palm into her mound and coats his digits with her arousal dipping the pads of his fingers into her entrance, “All this wet f'me?” Palming her tits while whispering sweet nothings into her ear when she gasps and closes up on Harry scratching nails into his bended knees.

“Shh, shh puppy, jus' relax hmm? Feel yourself.” With sputtery inhales she does as he says, soon two of his fingers slips inside her and he strokes her pussy and pulls them out making her all whiny and pushes them back with a squelching noise, fucking her with it smiling and stopping when her thighs parts falls again his’s completely.

“Daddy!” She writhes and whines, trembly hands trying to bring Harry fingers back to her pulsating wetness, “You’re the cutest.” He smiles against her lips giving her cheeks several squishes and pats her head loving to see his adorable princess all flustery for him.

On her demands. He slicks his fingers back inside her and caresses the insides of her thighs while she pants and sinks onto his knuckles blabbering out daddydaddydaddy weepily.

“Cum fo’ me, puppy. Feels good? Yeah? My baby feels nice?” He rasps in her mouth, curving and petting the soft spot inside her pussy and sucks onto her upper lip when she moans and mewls loudly gushing all over his finger and he keeps on fucking her till she’s all sleepy and balmy against his chest.

Harry coaxes her tenderly, smoothing his hands all over her twitchy spots and patches sloppy kisses all over her face that makes her all giggly and shy—- the amount of endorphins spiking high in her system.

“Love you so much, daddy.” She mushes puckering her lips into his throat.

“Love you too, pup.”

#dom harry x subby y/n #dom harry x sub reader #dom!h x sub!reader #dom!h x sub!y/n #dom harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #cute harry #harry styles #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh

1K notes · View notes