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finalghost · 2 days ago

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— SEA-GLASS EYES SEARCHED those of ochre , futilely hoping to break down the cryptic meaning concealed in his response . ' it wasn't nothing . it's okay . ' she wanted to pry for more — to needle at a point she had already surrendered with the loss of her sense — but then , like a tab of butter , eliza melted . worry , anxiety , uncertainty weakened to sweet submission by three words . with the softness of a moth's wings , thick , black lashes fluttered in return . eliza was unsure why the words hit with such a hearty force , until the dazed woman realized how foreign they sounded atop his tongue .

he gave her little time to offer much else , already pulling her back in to the loving warmth of his embrace . the soft round of her cheek cupped perfectly in his roughened palm , the drum of their chests beginning to syncopate , she leaned into the welcome touch . greedy ; desperate for more . his affection was addictive , & eliza wished to consume it wholly before it was lost to her once more . she did not dare answer as he continued to appease whatever ire had previously occupied her mind . too worried that whatever viper's tongue she'd possessed would show its fangs once more , shattering the fantasy . which is exactly what is was : a fantasy . eliza was coldly reminded so when thomas finally peeled back , his wandering , watchful gaze leaving hers to survey the open air of their unoccupied surroundings . even his hands , which held hers with such tender care , twitched from suppressed nerves . something she had come to know well .

but eliza refused to give up this moment . to crush it beneath her own fickle , untrained attitude . a slow , kittenish smirk drew across pink , winter-kissed lips . " i thought you liked my ' little frilly things ' . " the words were almost a whine . " don't you know that giving a girl your jacket is like asking her to go steady . careful , now , tomcat . . . i might get the wrong idea . " still , with a little wink , eliza had already spun on her heel , dropping one hand from thomas's , but holding tight to the other , dragging him along .

it was a short walk to his cabin . the small , red structure stood only a few yards from the ashen rubble of its twin . creeping open the door , its hinges squealing like a siren , she peeked around , glittering eyes scanning the small room before pushing in . " it's funny , " she mused , head tilting to peer back at her beau whilst she glided further into the room . " usually when we're alone , you're trying to take my clothes off . not give me more of them . " still , she was more grateful for the offer than she would admit . the mountain's bite had grown worse with each passing day , & her ' little frilly things ' were , indeed , proving to be no match . eliza had been certain she'd end the trip as an icicle .

" cozy . " the sarcasm was blatant . she'd yet to explore inside the little cabin — too scared of getting caught by milo or questioned on her whereabouts by camille . & the newest addition to their rooming added yet another layer of issue . " how've you been enjoying the company ? all ' rainbows ' & ' butterflies ' , i'm sure . "

IN AN INSTANT , A BLIP — so quick he nearly missed it , he noticed the blooming fervor behind eliza's eyes fizzle out . warmth snuffed by a winter chill , roaring magma retreating back before committing to its eruption . anticipating the damage and avoiding it . eliza's words stung , the venomous prick of a bee's stinger ( the same one that would bring her a supposedly lethal end ) targetting his exposed wounds and fragile nerves . he believed he was right , that he was the one who was holding on to whatever semblance of control that existed between the two of them , but eliza , , , she was also right . something that made him noticeably tense upon realizing . not with anger , but with a devastating clarity .

something then burned in his chest , something that ached so badly he felt silver lining his eyes . the taught muscles beneath his jaw pulsed like the wings of a hummingbird , the acid of his stomach pressing up into his throat making him queasy . nausea roiled when her face fell , deflating of its once brimming emotion , porcelain features sullied by a desperate frustration and manic upset sinking back to neutrality . confusion , even .

befuddled , thomas blinked , his own stoney face seeming to droop with uncertainty as thick brows knotted on his forehead . " — liza ?? " he said quietly , questioning , watching the flick of a ballerina's wrist as she took notice of the salt ornamenting round cheeks . inspected it on her fingers .

" i'm mad , " he echoed in ambivilant confirmation , unsure of what was happening . his speech wore hesitation like protective armor , the foundation of his previous argument crumbling to dust on the tip of his tongue . " we , , , we are . we were . liza , what's going on ?? are you — ?? " alright ?? okay ?? none of the words seemed appropriate . right . it was clear neither of those identifiers were the case , as much as he wished they were in order to spare himself .

when eliza's desperate clutch came to find thomas's shirt , his free hand moved in equal urgency — coming to rest atop hers , skin of frost meeting that of flame , pressing against her fingers where they fisted fabric . he didn't pry them off , nor did his mitt come to swat at manicured tips like they were the wings of buzzing insects . instead , he held her there , a fear-strung anguish in his expression , wrapping larger appendages around her far daintier ones and squeezing . as if she'd disintegrate beneath his embrace , like he had lost the right to give it .

" it , " he sucked in a breath , lungs quivering , the urge to lie so strong it felt like a fatal blow to the chest . the urge to aid her in her pursuit of ignorance , to lean into her amnesia , to feed his songbird the very same seeds he had given in exchange for her compliance for months — years — so tempting he could taste it . however , he swallowed , shaking his head ; " it wasn't , , , nothing , but — it's okay . we fight , babygirl , it happens . "

then — like an arrow to the very organ that kept him alive — eliza's trembling voice sung ; ' i love you , tommy . '

thomas knew she did ; eliza had said it some time ago , and continued to as if it were a promise . even when it hadn't been said back . love was a vow , a devotion to another , an unrelenting commitment in which the autonomy of their heart was unabashedly sacrificed . GIVEN . it scared the shit out of him — to love someone and mean it .

he had written it back . texted it . offered it in the ways he knew how . thomas couldn't remember if he had ever said it to her , realizing only now that he hadn't .

for a moment — he was blind to their surroundings ; blind to the way they were unhidden and at risk of exposure . if anyone's eyes were on them , he didn't feel them , nor did he seek them out . tom's lids fluttered as she pressed onto her toes , her dampened , rose-bud nose coming to brush against the frost-bitten tip of his . when she stepped away , apologized , he mourned her warmth ; quick in the way he abused his clasp on her wrist and tugged her back to him . tom's palm came to cradle eliza's face , the pad of his thumb caressing the soddened cherry of her cheek , only noticing now that salt had welled in his own eyes and his adam's apple had turned to stone .

" it's okay , " he said quietly , bringing his lips down to press an assuring kiss against her forehead . " i love you , too. " he muttered against the flush of her skin , securing the return of a sacred vow that until now had gone unspoken with another stamp of his lips against her hairline . " — and so does , cam . we'll , , , we'll figure out how to talk to them . together . as soon as this is over , liza , i promise . "

he released her , stepping back some , but not before large hands scooped up hers , the pads of calloused thumbs running along the bumps of rouged knuckles . only now did tom's gaze wander , a brief scan to make sure they were alone , shoulders sinking in a quiet relief upon realizing they were . " it's freezin' , baby , " honey-pot eyes , glossed and burned , returned to moss that would challenge the greenest pasture . he cleared his throat , an attempt to compose himself . " let me — let me give you a jacket , yeah ?? an actual jacket . one of mine . your lil' frilly things ain't gonna cut it . "

#*⋆˙⟡ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ⁽ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵉˢ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ & ʷⁱᵗᵗʸ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ⁾ .#—⋄◦⋄ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 ⁽ ⁱ ᵈᵉˢⁱʳᵉ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ⁾ .

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aparticularbandit · 1 year ago

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Goals for today after sleep:

Hit up some of the WIP prompts

Maybe Danganronpa

DR is a maybe because like. I'm not a fan of how my wanting to play it and choosing to play it is getting in the way of other things I should be doing with my time.

aka my time management skills are not the greatest and I want to make sure I don't DR before things I actually should be doing. ><

DR as reward system, not as temptation.

(Tumblr is becoming the same way again, so I might be going back to limiting my time on here again. Both of these are addicting, and they're feeding into each other in a way I don't.... Well, I like it is the problem but also I don't like it, you feel?)

#musings #bandit #back in march i took a full month off from tumblr #i made maybe one post?#and then everything else was queued #and for a while i've been off and on very good about just logging on and checking my activity feed and logging back out #but like #i know the addiction is more than creeping back in #and part of it probably does have to do with all the dr posts #but if i'm honest it was happening before that too #so don't blame dr!#...why do i have the ODDEST sense of deja vu #just #i don't want to drop off entirely #but find a better way to manage my time #my schedule's been different this year so like #i'm still trying to rearrange when i get my writing done #because i used to write at night and the early morning #but now dad and i have been bonding through binging shows later than i used to do #and i've been tired earlier maybe #which cuts into when i used to write #so i'm still trying to figure out the best place to move it #a n y w a y #more info than y'all wanted i think #but yeah #gonna try to be on...less #maybe #M A Y B E

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rafelandia · 8 days ago

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In the Middle of the Night (Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, little bit of cum play, unprotected sex

Summary: Rafe can't sleep. Luckily, the antidote to his ailment is laying in bed right next to him.

Author's Note: I can't stop thinking about Rafe waking Y/N up in the middle of the night for sex. I am addicted to the trope of Rafe being an asshole to everyone except his girl, but this is more of a soft!Rafe moment than anything. If you enjoy, please give a like or reblog. And any requests for blurbs/one shots/etc. are always welcome in my inbox!

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Rafe would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the beach with nothing but the moonlight to guide him, hunker down in his home office and crunch numbers, read a few chapters in his current favorite non-fiction. There were dozens of outlets Rafe had conditioned himself to do when he just couldn’t fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes came insidiously creeping into his head.

There was something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Rafe couldn’t help but feel his boxers growing tighter the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and his hands found their way to her breasts. Rafe began gently kneading them in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got out of her was a shift in her bum on the mattress. A low rumble escaped from his chest at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Rafe always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his plush, pink lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touch as his kisses grew sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Rafe swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-moan half-groan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Rafe grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need you to wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Rafe, the Rafe that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and telling her that he was in the mood. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Rafe, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Rafe's arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Rafe repeated back to her in the same groggy tone. "Can't sleep?" she asked, a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

He gave no response - just a lazy smirk in return. Even in the darkness, Y/N noticed a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. He'd been caught.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his now painfully hard cock; the feathered duvet now pooled at their knees. Rafe hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to bliss when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, reveling in the way Rafe's brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?” he jested.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Rafe's hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Rafe's as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woke her. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste and mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Rafe held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty Kildare High School t-shirt of his that she slept in so he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second before they were intertwined again.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Rafe ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with his cold hands. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety, smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Rafe adored oh-so dearly. Y/N began to feel the wetness from her core pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands cradled his neck, snugly but not tightly as she kissed him, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Y/N," Rafe pleaded, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her. He needed her to do something, anything before he lost his whits.

She locked eyes with Rafe as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Rafe always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, Y/n bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in Rafe's arms with the way his tip was able to brush against all of the sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Rafe. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Rafe's toned stomach, the two of them yearning to reach their ends.

Y/n's bouncing soon turned to lazy, barely motivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable to continue. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped in a sauna. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was growing frustrated that she wouldn't be able to get them both there on her own.

“Rafe,” Y/N whined as she gripped both of Rafe's shoulders tightly, knuckles growing white from the hold she had on them.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Rafe's neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

“I've got you, baby,” he huffed, barely able to spit the words out between each manual breath.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and plunged back into her soaking cunt once more. Y/N cried out at the new angle of Rafe on top of her, watching his dainty, silver chain dangle inches away from her face.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that," Rafe muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “You gonna cum for me first though. Right angel?”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Rafe caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with one of his strong, veiny hands, pressing it even deeper into her chest with his other arm pressed deep into the mattress to balance his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Your pussy's so perfect. Like it was made for me," Rafe moaned. "Gonna fuck you like this every night for the rest of my life."

His words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Rafe could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

"Need you to cum, baby. Need to feel it," Rafe was nearing his breaking point, but knew he couldn't be satisfied without feeling her clench around him first.

Unable to speak due to the way he was pounding into her, Y/N gripped Rafe's shoulders even harder than he was fucking her in response. This made Rafe cockily smile and only pushed him to fuck her more fervently and deeper. His hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung on her quickly, her walls spasming around Rafe's thick, pulsing cock. Y/N let out a sound akin to a high-pitched whine blended perfectly with a scream - it was so beautiful to him. Her orgasm came so suddenly that it caught Rafe off guard as well; he had but mere moments before he found himself filling her up with his warm, milky seed. It was so sudden and intense that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the plush, silky sheets.

They rode it out together, Rafe pumping into her slower and sloppier than just minutes before. Y/N was becoming overwhelmed with the sensation and he was quick to pick up on it. Rafe pulled out slowly, watching Y/N wince as her now-swollen heat contracted around nothing but emptiness. He ran his fingers along her pussy, collecting her wetness and his cum on his digits before gently pressing the mixture back into her core. She hissed at the feeling of him inside of her again and it made Rafe's dick twitch. He could easily go again, but he knew that she couldn't. It was intoxicating to watch her squirm. Next time he thought to himself. He loved to drive her crazy.

They both laid there, Rafe resting his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats return back to their resting rate. She twiddled with the clasp of Rafe's chain while he pecked soft kisses on her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

"I love you," Y/N sighed, her eyes beginning to close as she teetered the line of consciousness.

"I love you, too," Rafe was just as exhausted as she was. Finally.

When they regained their bearings, Rafe reached across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body. With caring hands, he cleaned the two of them, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have a presentation in the morning and you only wake me up to fuck when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Rafe, which while he would never admit, he adored.

She felt Rafe's laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

Rafe could go on midnight runs and read as much as he could, but nothing could put him to sleep as easily as this.

#rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #fafe smut #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction #rafe x reafer #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey smut #mine

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thedensworld · 8 days ago

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Talk the Stalker | C.Sc

Pairing: celebritySeungcheol! x celebrityReader!

Genre: fluff

Summary: Seungcheol is obsessed with you, he loves you and he would do anything to protect you.

Note: i'm obsessed, addicted, and drowned in his pretty smile! Happiness suit him sfm!

Seungcheol's hand was warm as it held yours tightly while the two of you entered the restaurant. He had already noticed two or three cameras tailing him outside, snapping pictures of the two of you together. He paid them no mind—your relationship was public anyway, and he was too used to the attention to care. Right now, all that mattered to him was making sure you were okay.

This restaurant was your favorite, a haven you always turned to when your appetite disappeared—which had happened again today. He had picked you up from the shooting set after a long day. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be working from afternoon until late evening. Coincidentally, his own schedule had wrapped up at the same time, so he decided to spend the night with you.

"Can we grab something first? I think I’m gonna pass out," you muttered the moment you slid into his car.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, already anticipating this. You hadn’t eaten, had you? His mind pieced together the puzzle: you probably woke up barely two hours before your schedule, rushed to get ready, spent an hour commuting, and then worked the entire day without a single meal. The thought of it frustrated him—he had been through similar habits in the past, too busy to eat. But seeing you, the love of his life, neglecting yourself like this made his chest ache. Without a word, he drove the two of you straight to your go-to spot.

While you disappeared to the restroom, Seungcheol took the liberty of ordering your usual meal. When you returned, he waved you over, pulling the chair beside him. As you sat down, his hand instinctively reached for your back, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension he imagined must be building there.

"How’s your back? Still hurt?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern.

You had injured yourself three months ago during a stunt for an action film—a brutal fall onto your back that had left you with a dislocated shoulder and lingering pain. While everything had seemed fine recently, yesterday’s severe backache brought the worries flooding back for both of you.

"Stop making me worry, could you?" Seungcheol sighed when you gave him a soft chuckle, clearly trying to downplay the issue. "Sometimes I wonder how your fragile body even handles all those stunts," he added, shaking his head.

“Fragile?” you scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “I work out, thank you very much.”

He lifted your arm with a smirk, inspecting it playfully. “This slender little arm trying to punch a stuntman? I’m not worried about them; I’m worried about you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a grin, making Seungcheol laugh.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His tone softened as he said, “That’s why you need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know how much you love your job, but if you want to do it for a long time, you have to take care of yourself.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. It was something you always told him whenever he pushed himself too hard. “Stealing my lines now?” you teased, and he chuckled warmly.

After dinner, you suggested taking a walk. Seungcheol hesitated, asking if you were too tired, but you insisted. He figured you must’ve missed him more than you were letting on, and the thought filled him with a fluttery warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

As the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the chill of the night air began to creep in. Seungcheol noticed you shivering and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased with a playful smile, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Seungcheol said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your lips curling into a smile as you clung to his arm. “Anything?” you challenged with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Would you kill someone for me?”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “Not to that scale. Know your place!” he shot back, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Are you happy with me?" Seungcheol’s voice broke the comfortable silence as he reached for your hand, holding it firmly before swinging it lightly, a playful gesture to get your attention. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warmth radiating from him.

You nodded eagerly, the sincerity in your expression clear. "I think you’re one of the very few people who can make me this happy," you admitted, your words filled with genuine affection.

His brows furrowed almost immediately, and he stopped walking, a playful pout forming on his lips. "I’m not the only one?" he asked, feigning offense.

You chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "Know your place," you teased, leaning closer as a mischievous grin spread across your face.

His pout melted into a radiant smile, his dimple making a brief appearance. "I was kidding earlier, babe," he said softly, though his playful tone lingered as he began walking backward to face you, still holding your hand securely in his.

Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you, his eyes warm and filled with adoration. After a moment, he raised a brow and asked, “Can I stay the night?” The flirty tilt of his tone made you raise yours in mock disbelief.

“Isn’t this the first time you’re actually asking?” you questioned, suppressing a laugh as you tilted your head.

He nodded, chuckling at your amused expression. “I know, I know. I must be the worst boyfriend, huh? I never ask for consent, I won’t kill anyone for my girlfriend, and to top it all off, I make fun of her slender arms.”

You gasped in mock outrage and raised your hand to playfully slap his arm, but he anticipated it and bolted ahead, laughter echoing through the quiet park near the restaurant. The chase was on, and you found yourself running after him, your laughter mingling with his in the cool night air.

That night, before heading home, the park became your private playground, filled with stolen moments of joy and carefree laughter. You hoped, for both your sakes, that no paparazzi managed to capture the scene.

You entered your apartment, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Though it wasn’t as luxurious or spacious as Seungcheol’s place, it carried a charm he adored—you. Every corner of your home was filled with your scent, your presence, and your personality. To him, it wasn’t just a place—it was a sanctuary, his sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes. Seungcheol smiled, watching as you settled in, your energy shifting into the comfort of your space.

As usual, Jibby, your orange tabby cat, sauntered over to greet you, his tail flicking lazily behind him. The cat had been your loyal companion ever since you rescued him on a shooting set two years ago. Predictably, Jibby ignored Seungcheol entirely, keeping his amber eyes locked on you with unwavering devotion.

“Still no love for me, huh?” Seungcheol joked, crouching to scratch Jibby behind the ears, only to receive a flick of the tail in return. “This cat’s got some serious attitude.”

You chuckled, picking up Jibby and holding him close. “He’s selective. He knows who pays the rent around here.”

As you placed Jibby back on the floor, you noticed strands of his fur scattered everywhere. “Oh, Jibby! Your fur’s everywhere!” you exclaimed, brushing some off your pants.

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, crouching to inspect the floor. “It’s not even summer, and he’s already shedding like crazy. You think he’s stressed?”

Your face filled with concern as you knelt beside Jibby, running your hands gently over his fur. “Oh no, Jibby. What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

Before you could continue, Jibby let out a loud, startling meow, making both you and Seungcheol jump. The sound was completely out of character—Jibby was always a calm and quiet cat.

“That’s...new,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “I’ve never heard him meow like that before.”

Your concern deepened, and as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, you found your building’s security guard standing there. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “We got a report from your neighbor. They said your cat’s been meowing loudly for hours. Is everything okay?”

You turned back to Jibby, the worry evident in your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, stroking his fur as he let out another sharp meow. “I think something’s wrong.”

That night, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You stayed up with Jibby, trying to comfort him as his restless meows continued. Seungcheol, sensing how stressed you were, insisted on staying over. When he saw how exhausted you looked around 3 a.m., he gently took over, cradling Jibby in his arms while you rested on the couch.

By dawn, it was clear Jibby needed professional care. “I’ll take him to the vet,” Seungcheol offered, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve got an early schedule, and I can handle this.”

You hesitated, guilt flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve already—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jibby’s family. And family takes care of each other.”

As you watched him gently place Jibby into the carrier, whispering soothing words to the stressed cat, you felt a swell of gratitude and love for the man who had seamlessly woven himself into your life—and Jibby’s too.

The next day, Seungcheol received a call from the vet. The feline, Jibby, was missing home and showing signs of increased stress. Hearing this, Seungcheol couldn’t help but worry. You were out of town for a shooting schedule and wouldn’t be back until the next day, so Seungcheol decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked his manager to help him pick up Jibby from the vet, determined to make the cat feel better.

Driving to your apartment with Jibby in the passenger seat was no small task. The cat meowed incessantly, his cries echoing through the car. Seungcheol tried speaking to him in the same soft, soothing tone he had heard you use countless times. “Hey, buddy, we’re going home. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” he said, glancing over at Jibby. But his attempts were futile; the cat’s distress didn’t subside, and Seungcheol found himself understanding your concern on a much deeper level.

Once they arrived, Seungcheol texted you: “Jibby’s home safe now. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

He set down Jibby’s carrier, opened it, and placed some food in the bowl. He watched as the cat cautiously stepped out, sniffing around before beginning to eat. Gradually, Jibby seemed to relax.

Seungcheol didn’t turn on the lights, thinking it might overwhelm Jibby. Instead, he opened the curtains slightly, letting the moonlight bathe the room in a soft glow. Leaning back on the couch, he kept an eye on the cat, who finally settled beside him.

“You finally opened up to me, huh, Jibby?” Seungcheol murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. It felt like a small victory to earn even a fraction of the cat’s trust.

Suddenly, the sound of the passcode being entered broke the serene moment. Seungcheol sat up, his body tensing. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Who could it be?

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure in a hoodie stepped inside. Jibby’s demeanor shifted instantly; he bolted toward the figure, his fur standing on end as he hissed and meowed angrily.

Seungcheol’s heart pounded as he rose from the couch, flipping on the lights. “Who are you?” he barked, his voice filled with authority. The intruder froze for a second before bolting for the door.

Not wasting a moment, Seungcheol dashed after him. The man was just reaching the emergency exit when Seungcheol grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved him against the wall with a force that came from pure adrenaline.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol growled, his voice dangerously low as he pressed the man harder against the wall, preventing any chance of escape. “Why are you here? Why do you know my girlfriend’s passcode?”

The intruder struggled, but Seungcheol’s grip was unyielding. The hours he’d spent learning jiu-jitsu were finally paying off. His sharp eyes scanned the area until he spotted a CCTV camera. Without hesitation, he dragged the man into its view, ensuring the footage would capture everything.

Jibby followed, his meows loud and furious as if scolding the man himself. The cat even swiped at the intruder’s legs, his claws adding to the chaos.

Moments later, two security guards arrived, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he explained, his voice steady but laced with anger. “This guy broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. He knew her passcode. I caught him before he could get away.”

The guards immediately restrained the man, apologizing profusely to Seungcheol. “We’ll handle this. Thank you for acting quickly, sir,” one of them said as they led the intruder away.

Seungcheol stood tall in front of the man sitting tied to the chair in the dimly lit security room. The sight of him was sickening. Moments earlier, Seungcheol had watched the CCTV footage of this guy sneaking into your apartment multiple times in recent days. A wave of anger surged through him as he pieced things together. Was this the reason Jibby had been so stressed lately?

Seungcheol’s hand instinctively went to rub Jibby, who sat calmly in his arms, a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside him. The cat, ever so loyal, seemed to sense his unease.

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible. “I’m just a fan…”

Seungcheol’s blood boiled at those words. He stepped closer, his voice sharp and unwavering. “No fan should do this. You’re not a fan—you’re a criminal!” He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out barely held in check.

The security guards standing nearby intervened, stepping between Seungcheol and the intruder. “Sir, please, the cops are on their way. We need your cooperation,” one of them said firmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready to let it go. He glared at the man, his voice dripping with contempt. “What did you do? Did you plant a camera or something? Huh?” He leaned in, his intense gaze locking on the man, pressing him for answers.

The intruder hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before he gave a reluctant nod. That was all it took. Rage exploded in Seungcheol as he handed Jibby to a nearby guard before grabbing the man by his collar.

“You sick—” Seungcheol growled, but before he could finish or act on his anger, the security team pulled him back, their firm grip reminding him to maintain control.

“Mr. Choi, we’ve got this. Let us handle it,” one of the guards reassured him.

Seungcheol’s chest heaved as he let go, glaring daggers at the man who cowered in the chair.

Seungcheol stormed out of the security room, his frustration bubbling over as he marched toward the head of security standing nearby.

“How did this even happen?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Your job is to protect her and everyone in this building. Do you even realize how badly you’ve failed?”

The head of security looked uneasy but tried to maintain composure. “Sir, we’re investigating the breach—”

“Investigating?” Seungcheol scoffed, his voice rising. “This isn’t some minor mistake! That man entered her home multiple times, and you didn’t notice? What if she had been home alone? Can you guarantee what that bastard could’ve done to her?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, the thought of you in danger overwhelming him.

“Mr. Choi, I assure you—”

“No!” Seungcheol cut him off, stepping closer. “You can’t assure me of anything. You couldn’t even keep a stranger out of her home! She trusted this place to be safe, and you let her down.”

The head of security hesitated, clearly struggling to respond, as Seungcheol continued. “Do you know how terrified she’ll be when she finds out? Do you know how hard she works, how much she sacrifices, only to come home to this?”

Taking a deep breath, he added, “I don’t care what it takes—double the patrols, update your system, install better cameras, do something. Because if this happens again, I swear, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The head of security nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Choi. We’ll prioritize this immediately. I’ll personally oversee the updates and report back.”

Turning on his heel, Seungcheol made his way back to your apartment with Jibby settled on his arms. As he entered, he set Jibby down gently and sighed, his heart still racing. His protective instincts were on overdrive, and all he wanted was to make sure you were safe.

He sent you another text:

“Call me when you can.”

Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his gaze shifting to Jibby, who was curled up on the carpet, seemingly calm after the ordeal. The sight of the cat, finally at ease, should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The thought of leaving you and Jibby alone in this apartment, even for a second, made his stomach twist. He sat forward, rubbing his temples as his mind raced. “I can’t just leave you here,” he muttered, as if Jibby could understand.

Decision made, Seungcheol stood and began gathering a few of Jibby’s essentials. He packed the cat’s food, a couple of toys, and the small bed you’d bought for him. Jibby tilted his head curiously, his tail flicking as he watched Seungcheol move around.

“You’re coming with me, buddy,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to scratch behind Jibby’s ears. “At least until we know this place is safe again. No arguments, okay?”

Jibby responded with a low purr, and Seungcheol took it as agreement.

"Why is he in your place?" you asked, your laughter spilling through the phone as you watched Jibby sprawled comfortably beside Seungcheol on his couch. His home looked warm and inviting in the dim lighting, and even through the screen, you could see how relaxed Jibby seemed.

Seungcheol smiled at your reaction, his voice softening. "Jibby feels at home here. I think he loves my place. Isn’t that right, Jibby? You want to live here with me?"

As if on cue, Jibby let out a soft meow and snuggled closer into Seungcheol’s arm, his orange fur brushing against Seungcheol’s sweater. You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I left him with you for one day, and now you two are best friends? This is betrayal," you teased, though your heart warmed at the sight of them together.

Seungcheol laughed, patting Jibby gently on his back. "Oh, it’s not betrayal. He actually loves me—he just doesn’t want to make you jealous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me he’s moving in with you."

Seungcheol tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking you both could. I mean, look at him. He’s practically claimed my couch already."

Your laugh turned into a soft sigh. "Babe, you’re joking, right?"

"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but his expression growing serious. "Think about it. Jibby clearly loves it here. My place is bigger and you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him when you’re out for work. Plus..."—his voice softened—"I’d get to see you every day."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the earnestness in his words. "Baby, are you actually suggesting I move in with you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed how much he meant it. "It makes sense. Jibby’s happy here, and I’d feel better knowing you’re both safe. You can have your own space, do things your way. No pressure, but... I’d really like it if you were here."

Your gaze shifted to Jibby, who was now fully sprawled out on Seungcheol’s lap, purring softly. The sight was oddly comforting, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed Seungcheol already, even though you’d only been apart for a day.

"I don’t know," you said hesitantly, though your voice wavered with the idea already taking root in your mind. "It’s a big step."

Seungcheol leaned closer to the camera, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Big steps aren’t so scary when you’re not taking them alone, you know. Just think about it, okay?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. "I’ll think about it."

Seungcheol grinned, the kind of grin that made your chest feel warm. "Good. Jibby and I will be waiting."

The sight of him and Jibby, so at ease together, made you wonder if moving in wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

End.

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theostrophywife · 10 months ago

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stalker! theo who falls for a pretty little ravenclaw after you run into him in the hall, flustered and frenzied as your books and parchment spill out of your hands.

stalker! theo who listens to his raven mumble apologetically, rambling about deadlines and deadbeat project partners who left you to complete an assignment all alone.

stalker! theo who watches in fascination as you scramble to get yourself sorted, apologizing and sniffling for running into him.

stalker! theo who stares at your pretty doe eyes filled with tears, lower lip trembling as you timidly take the papers that he's gathered and organized for you.

stalker! theo who smirks at the little flush that creeps up your neck when your fingers brush together. your voice a quiet little rasp as you murmur, thank you, theo.

stalker! theo who is a little surprised that you even know his name, mesmerized at how pretty you look when you cry, leaning down to fluster you a little more before he whispers, you're welcome, little raven.

stalker! theo who honest to merlin felt his heart stop when you reward him with a smile. a shy little smile that has him hooked from that day forward.

stalker! theo who finds your deadbeat partner and threatens him into pulling his weight or else he'll pull his intestines out of his body if he makes theo's little raven cry again.

stalker! theo who can't help but smile when you grin at him in the halls, waving shyly as you pass by with your group of friends who tease you as you blush prettily for him.

stalker! theo who starts to crave you more than cigarettes. who asks anything and everything about you. finding out your class schedule, your dorm number, your favorite spots in hogsmeade.

stalker! theo who watches you study in the library, hiding behind stacks and stacks of books, keeping an eye on his pretty raven as you recite facts under your breath, anxiously biting down on your lip and tapping the end of your quill against your chin when you come across a particularly hard question.

stalker! theo who follows you all the way back to your dorm, making sure you get in safely. lurking in the shadows as you cautiously look over your shoulder, pretty eyes alert and ready as you squint in the darkness.

stalker! theo who finds a sick thrill in watching you shiver as your gaze passes over his hiding spot, eyes unfocused and glazed as you gloss over him in the darkness of the castle, steps picking up as you climb your way up ravenclaw tower, answering the door’s riddle whilst clutching your wand closer to your chest.

stalker! theo who waits until you're good and settled, because he knows how long your bedtime routine is, knows you like to shower and stick to your skincare routine religiously before tucking yourself into bed and cuddling your little stuffie to sleep.

stalker! theo who lets himself into your dorm with a master key he nicked from dumbledore's office, sneaking quietly into your room and making himself right at home.

stalker! theo who nosily flickers through the knickknacks on your desk, all perfectly lined up in neat little rows, which he returns them to before sauntering over to your bookshelves and tracing over the notes and lines that you'd scribbled onto the worn, yellow pages.

stalker! theo who hovers by your bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and smiling as he watches you sleep peacefully, all snuggled up in bed. thumb brushing over your cheek as he presses his lips against yours in a sweet little peck before whispering, sweet dreams, my pretty little raven.

stalker! theo who freezes when you stir, fingers reaching for him in the dark, while you softly murmur in your sleep. please, theo. the bulge in his trousers growing while you moan and whimper so desperately. desperate for him.

stalker! theo who exhales a shaky breath, knowing that it's wrong, so wrong to invade your privacy like this, but he just can't help himself. you bring out the addictive, compulsive side to him and he's obsessed.

stalker! theo who is pilfering through your dresser, pulling out a pair of your pretty lace pink panties. who knows how fucked up it is to touch himself like this even as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his boxers down, wrapping your panties around his cock before stroking himself, getting off on listening to your pretty little sounds, still moaning his name in your sleep.

stalker! theo who is panting and gasping as he pumps himself while a choked groan crawls up his throat. he tries to tamper down his noises by biting his lip, canines sinking into his bottom lip so hard that he’s breaking skin and drawing blood. watching as crimson dots stain you bedsheets, wishing he could leave them there to mark his territory.

stalker! theo who finishes all over your pretty panties, covering the lace in his cum while you continue to dream, blissful and unaware of the filthy, dirty way he’d wanked himself off right beside you.

stalker! theo who leans down to murmur, fuck. you don’t know what you do to me, principessa. i fucking adore you. i’d do anything for you. there’s no limit to the lengths i’d go to just to make you smile. theo sighs, kissing your temple. you’re mine, cara mia. even if you don’t now it yet. i promise that you will soon, y/n. i’ll make you mine no mater what it takes.

stalker! theo who lingers by the door cause he can’t help but sneak one last glance at you. smiling softly, he watches adoringly as you snuggle your stuffie closer. his heart threatens to burst at the precious sight and in that moment theo knows. he’d do anything for you. he’d kill for you. he’d die for you. but for now, he has to settle for the memory of your soft rasp, saying his name over and over again like a prayer.

stalker! theo who leans against the doorway, slipping your pretty pink panties into his pocket for safekeeping before whispering softly in the darkness, goodnight, my pretty little raven.

#if you hear howling outside don't be alarmed it's just me #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n

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creamflix · 1 month ago

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❤︎ — gojo satoru likes it in blue !

content warnings: established relationship, switch (?) satoru + dom reader - heavy sub & dom dynamics, mentions of m. masturbation as a flashback, strap sucking, subtle and brief grinding, hand cuffing (makeshift), gojo cryin' because you make him feel s'good oh noo, possible overstimulation, lots of begging, orgasm control, prostate stimulation, implied missionary

event masterlist ❤︎ general masterlist

“hey, 'toru, remember the time i pegged–”

“baby, can you not?” he groans, head falling back against the couch in defeat. you catch the faintest flush rising on his cheeks, which only encourages you further. the memory is still fresh; it’s only been about a month since that night, and even though it clearly shook him up, he hasn’t stopped thinking about it.

you lean over, nudging him. “what? you can’t handle a little reminiscing?”

he narrows his eyes, trying to regain his cool. “i remember plenty. just didn’t think you’d wanna bring up the specifics so casually.”

“i didn’t think you’d be so worked up about it, honestly,” you counter, raising an eyebrow. “i mean, a little silicone never hurt anyone, right?”

his jaw tightens slightly, and he tries to hide a smirk. “yeah, sure. but, y’know, i let you. that’s all that was,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at you. it’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself more than you, which only makes you want to push him further.

“‘let me’? toru, you were practically molding yourself to that strap.” you grin, enjoying the way he squirms, fighting the blush creeping up his neck. “and you know you love that shade of blue, too.”

“you chose that color, okay?” he snaps back, trying to keep his voice steady, but you can see his resolve crumbling. “and anyway, i just… wanted to try something new with you.” his voice is softer now, a little vulnerable, but he’s still trying to act unaffected, like he’s not picturing it all over again.

you lean in, voice lowering to a near whisper. “so you’re saying you haven’t thought about it since?”

“i–” he hesitates, caught. his mouth opens, but no witty comeback comes out, just a slight stammer. his gaze flickers down, and you notice the way his fingers drum nervously against his thigh, even as he tries to shrug off your words. but then, almost like he can’t help it, you see his expression shift — distant, almost thoughtful, as though he’s replaying every detail. he can’t shake the memory, not fully.

it’s late one night, and you’re not around. he’s sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over his eyes, trying to quiet his mind, but the thoughts come creeping back in. it’s unintentional, really. he shifts on the sheets, hands moving absentmindedly before finding their way down, and suddenly, it’s that shade of blue he’s seeing. your voice, low and soft, lingers in his head, egging him on, telling him to relax, to let go, as you move in slow, purposeful motions, dragging every sound out of him that he’d usually be way too proud to make.

he groans, hand running through his hair as his other hand wraps around himself, a little too eagerly. even now, he can’t believe how much he liked it. the way you’d taken over, a smirk on your lips, eyes focused and sharp — it did something to him, made him feel vulnerable in a way he didn’t expect, and he’d been hooked. the feel of that cool, slick silicone pressing against him, filling him up as you moved, every sound amplified in the silence. he was completely at your mercy, his body responding before his mind could even catch up.

his breath hitches, and his movements become quicker, trying to chase the high he’d felt that night. the way you whispered his name, the way you held his hips so tightly, guiding him, the world around him blurring — it was all too good. too addictive. before he knows it, he’s coming undone, practically sobbing your name, head thrown back in the dark room, wishing it was you there with him.

“toru?” you say again, snapping him out of it. his head jerks up, and he quickly runs a hand through his hair, composing himself as best as he can.

“yeah, i’m listening,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze, but the way his lips are slightly parted, the flush still lingering on his face — you know exactly what’s been going through his head.

you tilt your head, smirking. “were you... remembering something specific?”

“don’t get cocky,” he grumbles, clearly flustered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “just… had a stray thought.”

“yeah? well, maybe you’d like me to remind you sometime,” you say softly, leaning in close, watching as he visibly shivers, still unable to meet your gaze.

satoru laughs, the sound forced, a little too loud. he leans back, crossing his arms over his chest with that cocky, half-smirk of his — but there’s an unmistakable edge to it, a hint of nerves lurking behind his cool exterior. “please,” he scoffs, though his voice is a tad shaky. “you think one time was enough to throw me off? i’m ready for it now, like, whenever the next time we do it,” he adds, smirk wavering as he avoids your gaze.

you bite back a grin, watching him struggle to keep up the act. “oh? does this mean you want to do it again, toru?” you tease, laughter slipping out as he stiffens, his cocky facade cracking ever so slightly.

“i mean, that’s… that’s not what i said,” he stammers, his hands gesturing vaguely as he fumbles for words. “just, you know… i can handle it if you’re, uh, into that sorta thing.”

“right, right, you can handle it,” you echo, unable to hold back your amusement. “so, all that blushing and the shaky voice is just you… preparing for next time, then?”

he shifts uncomfortably, trying to play it cool, but the way he fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck, says otherwise. “yeah, exactly,” he mumbles, attempting another smirk, though it’s obvious he’s barely holding it together. “i’m… totally unfazed.”

you lean closer, lowering your voice. “totally unfazed, huh? so if i just happened to have it right now…” you trail off, watching his eyes widen just a fraction, his breath hitching as his bravado falters completely.

“d-don’t tease me like that,” he mutters, face practically on fire now. “i mean, it’s… not like i’d back down or anything.”

satoru’s mouth opens to protest, to say anything that’ll keep his pride intact, but you’re already up, heading to the bedroom with a determined stride that makes his stomach flip. his mind races, caught between an odd thrill and a stab of panic — he’d wanted to keep up his cool front, to tease and play it off. right now? it was all supposed to stay hypothetical! he hadn’t expected you to actually take him up on it...

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart, feeling like he’s teetering on the edge of something he’s not sure he’s ready for. he wants it, badly, wants to feel that same rush again — the way you’d had him unraveling under your touch, the heat of your hands on his skin, the feeling of giving himself over to you. but the vulnerability? the fact that he might just lose all control again? that part terrifies him. because what if he ends up begging? what if it’s not a one-time thing?

“babe, let’s not be hasty, yeah?” he calls out weakly, trying to sound nonchalant, but the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

before he can talk himself out of it, you’re back, standing in front of him with that familiar blue strap held confidently in your hands, a teasing grin lighting up your face. satoru’s heart skips a beat — hell, maybe three — as he takes it in, the sight of you holding that damn thing, all smug and playful. he feels his throat go dry, and his whole body tenses, heat pooling low in his stomach. you’re not even wearing it, but just seeing it there in your grip, knowing you could put it on in seconds, has his chest tightening with anticipation.

his smirk wavers, then disappears altogether, and he feels his palms start to sweat, his pants tightening in a way he can’t ignore. he tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, feeling his confidence melt away, leaving only the simmering desire he can’t hide. “uh… we don’t have to… like, right now…” he stammers, eyes fixed on your hand, on that shade of blue that’s burned into his memory.

you step closer, raising an eyebrow. “oh? but you said you’re ready whenever.” there’s a lightness in your tone, but the way you look at him — like you know exactly what you’re doing to him — has him unraveling.

he’s barely holding on, his whole body tensing as he watches you slowly drag your tongue up the side of the strap, eyes locked on his, daring him to keep his composure. his breath catches in his throat, and he has to press his lips together to keep from letting out the most unrestrained, shameless moan. it’s almost enough to make him combust right then and there — the way you’re looking at him, those bedroom eyes dripping with mischief and control, luring him in like he’s already yours to command. god, he’s down bad for you.

his gaze is glued to you as you slip out of your shirt and shorts, piece by piece, every movement leaving him more unsteady, more undone. when you’re standing there in nothing but your lingerie, the blue strap held in your hand like a weapon, his heart stutters, his stomach flipping over and over as he tries to keep breathing. he’s never felt so helpless in his life, every nerve in his body completely attuned to you, wanting nothing but for you to make him lose all control again.

“say, 'toru…” you purr, drawing his name out with a playful edge that sends a shiver straight down his spine. the softness of your voice, mixed with that glint of dominance, has him swallowing hard, a barely-there whimper slipping past his lips before he can catch it.

you smirk at the sound, stepping closer and letting your fingers trail along the strap’s edge as you continue, “let’s try somethin' new with an old friend, yea?”

his eyes go wide, pupils blown, and he’s struck silent, his cock twitching with anticipation at the thought of being at your mercy all over again. every ounce of his usual cockiness is nowhere to be found — he’s a mess, heat flooding his cheeks as he struggles to respond. “y-yeah,” he stammers, voice almost a whisper, like he’s surrendering completely. “i… i’m ready.” but his voice wavers, his body betraying how much he wants this, how helplessly he’s fallen for you, already wrapped around your finger before you’ve even touched him.

he blinks, his brain foggy, barely processing how he’s gone from standing to being on his knees in front of you, the warmth in his cheeks spreading all the way down to his chest. the strap dangles in front of him, an invitation he’s almost too eager to accept, and when he meets your gaze, those eyes — god, those eyes — are holding him captive, making it crystal clear just how helplessly down bad he is for you.

then you lean back, spreading your legs and giving him a look that sends a shiver down his spine, and his breath catches. “suck,” you say simply, voice low and commanding, your tone sending a shock straight to his core. you tap the strap lightly, your smirk growing when his mouth parts automatically, like he’s already obeying before he’s had time to think it through. “suck the strap, ‘toru. and no touching yourself.”

he swears he can feel himself melt at those words, every shred of his pride crumbling, leaving him with nothing but this raw, overwhelming need to please you. he inches forward, lips brushing against the strap, already aching at the thought of having his hands tied — figuratively, and, hell, maybe literally. his throat’s dry, but he lets out a shaky breath, eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time before closing over the strap with a quiet, needy whimper.

“that’s it… good boy,” you murmur, running a hand through his hair, just rough enough to keep him grounded as he starts to work his mouth around it, tongue gliding along the cool surface. he sucks, slow and tentative, dragging his tongue up its length with each movement, almost savoring it, each sound soft but undeniably needy — little hums, muffled moans that grow louder with each passing second.

“didn’t realize you’d be so eager, ‘toru,” you laugh, and he whines in response, the sound vibrating against the strap as he tries to press his hips forward, desperate for some friction. but he stops, remembering your command, hands curling into fists at his sides as he tries to keep himself in check, already feeling painfully restricted.

you tilt his chin up, guiding him with just the right amount of pressure, and he moans around the strap, eyes fluttering open to meet yours, filled with a haze of desire, completely at your mercy. “eyes on me,” you purr, and he nods obediently, his tongue swirling along the length, every lick deliberate, making sure he’s doing it just the way you like, the way that’ll keep that glint of approval in your gaze.

“god, look at you,” you murmur, voice thick with amusement, fingers brushing his cheek as he eagerly follows your guidance, every nerve in his body alight. “sucking on my strap like you were made for it. maybe you should get on your knees more often… begging for it.”

his moans grow louder, almost desperate, his eyes pleading as he works his mouth harder, following every command with more enthusiasm, his pride long forgotten. he’s too far gone to care — for you, he’d do anything.

his lips part around the strap with a quiet, wet pop, and he feels heat surge through him as he hears it, barely holding back a groan. he leans in, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the length, each one landing with a faint, sticky smack! that seems to echo in the room. his breaths grow ragged, warm puffs of air slipping from his mouth as he lets his tongue glide up the side, tracing every inch.

he sucks slowly, the slick, almost obscene sounds filling the silence as he loses himself, each noise making his face burn hotter. his lips wrap around it again with a needy hum, mmm, as he swirls his tongue along the tip, letting the taste linger, as if he’s savoring it.

“good boy,” you purr, and he moans softly, the sound vibrating against the strap with a low mmmph that makes his cheeks flush even deeper. he’s trying to keep his hands steady, fists clenched at his sides, but each time he takes the strap deeper, he lets out a muffled, breathy mmh, a clear whimper of surrender.

“look at you, ‘toru,” you tease, your voice soft, but each word cutting right through him. you tap his cheek, guiding him to go slower, and he obeys, sucking with a wet, eager schlurp, each noise leaving him more helpless than the last.

the squelch of his lips, the light pop every time he pulls back just to lean in and go again — it’s all shamelessly loud, filling the room with the messy sounds of his mouth as he worships you. you can’t help the amused chuckle that slips from your lips as you glance down and see the insistent strain in his pants, the fabric dampened by the dark, telltale patch spreading there. he’s absolutely falling apart, and he doesn’t even care — every moan, every tremble from him, just a testament to how bad he’s down for you.

leaning forward, you let your fingers brush through his hair, a mix of tenderness and control in your touch. “since you’re being so good,” you murmur, voice low, laced with a sweetness that borders on teasing, “why don’t you take those off for me, hmm? but keep sucking.” you watch his eyes widen just slightly as he takes in the command, no small amount of desperation in his gaze. “and don’t even think about touching yourself.”

he nods quickly, not daring to break eye contact, and with one hand clumsily fumbles at his waistband, struggling to tug his pants down while his lips remain wrapped around the strap, tongue sliding eagerly along it. he pulls them down just enough to free himself, but the movement makes him slip forward a little too fast, and the strap presses further into his mouth — he gags, choking a little on it with a breathy glk, his eyes watering as he tries to keep his rhythm steady.

“that’s it, ‘toru,” you coo, fingers brushing his cheek as he shivers under your praise, his cheeks flushed, mouth wet and pliant around your strap. each little slurp and mmmph fills the room, the slick, obscene sounds spilling out as he bobs his head up and down, clearly doing everything to keep himself steady for you.

he’s visibly aching, his cock twitching with each little smack and pop of his lips as he tries to stay focused. the patch of wetness on his boxers is getting even darker, and you know he’s holding back everything he has just to obey, resisting every urge to break the rule you’ve set.

“look at you, making such a mess without even touching yourself,” you say softly, a hand guiding him with light, steady pressure as his moans slip through, mmph, mmm, each sound drenched in need. you can see he’s close to losing himself, and the way he looks up at you, eyes hazy and obedient, makes it clear that he’s ready to keep going as long as you want, just for the chance to please you.

the second he lets his hips move, sliding his length against your calf, you feel it — the warm, slick smear of him as he grinds ever so slightly, his neediness betraying every last ounce of restraint he was trying to keep. he freezes, realizing too late what he’s done, and a faint whimper escapes him as he waits for your reaction, desperately hoping you didn’t notice. but from the way you tense, your gaze narrowing, it’s clear that you did.

you pull back, fingers curling under his chin and forcing him to look up, his wide, pleading eyes meeting yours, already begging for forgiveness. “what do you think you’re doing?” you ask, voice dangerously soft, laced with disappointment that makes his stomach twist. “i told you not to touch yourself, 'toru. but here you are, grinding against my leg like some needy little bitch in heat. can’t even follow one simple rule, can you?”

he swallows, cheeks flushed and burning, and tries to stammer out an apology, but you press the strap deeper into his mouth, making him gag on it, the sound ragged and pathetic. he chokes around it, his eyes watering as he desperately tries to keep sucking, knowing he’s in trouble but unable to stop, too caught up in the mixture of shame and desire that’s making him shake.

“if you’re gonna act like a pathetic little slut, maybe i’ll just treat you like one,” you sneer, voice filled with mock sympathy as you glance down at his flushed, trembling form. “is this what you wanted? to humiliate yourself in front of me? grinding on me, making such a mess all over yourself?”

he whimpers around the strap, desperate and wrecked, but he doesn’t dare move now, not an inch, his body held taut as he tries to keep from pressing forward again. his cock aches, the sensation of it brushing his stomach as he kneels in front of you making him shiver, precum dripping down in thick streaks, smearing across his torso. he can feel the sticky warmth, every nerve on edge as he fights to keep from losing himself even more.

“look at you,” you murmur, voice dripping with disdain as you press your foot against his thigh, keeping him from grinding further. “you really are that desperate, aren’t you? can’t even follow the simplest rules without turning into a complete mess.”

he nods, swallowing down the shame, face burning as he chokes out another mmmph, the sound thick with desperation as he waits, silently begging for a chance to redeem himself, willing to do anything you say just to be good for you again.

“have to do all the work around here,” you mutter, the hint of annoyance in your tone almost playful as you loosen your hair from it's bun, letting it cascade down your shoulders. you take the scrunchie, the fabric soft but strong, and deftly bind satoru’s hands together in a tight knot. his whines fill the air, a mix of desperation and frustration as his mouth pulls away from the strap, the loss making him groan softly.

“get up here,” you command, and before he can even comprehend what’s happening, you’ve shifted him, pinning him down against the sofa. he barely has time to brace himself before you’re pressing the strap against his pretty, puckering little hole, and the sight of him bucking his hips to meet the tip sends a rush of heat straight to your core. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“look at you,” you tease, voice low and sultry as you watch his body instinctively arch toward you, desperate for more contact. his breath quickens, eyes wide with a mixture of anticipation and want, every little movement of his betraying how much he craves this. “you really can’t help yourself, can you?”

he shakes his head, a soft whimper escaping his lips as you tease him, the strap just barely pressing against him, not quite enough to satisfy. he wants it so badly, and you can see it in the way his body responds, how he thrums with need beneath you. his voice is a breathy please, barely audible, but you hear it, and it makes your pulse race.

“please what?” you prod, your tone dripping with mock innocence as you watch him squirm, the tension palpable in the air. “what do you want, ‘toru? you have to use your words.”

he bites his lip, the heat of embarrassment creeping back into his cheeks as he struggles to find the words. “i want… i want it,” he gasps, his voice shaky, eyes pleading. “want you to—”

“to what?” you cut him off, pressing the strap against him just a little harder, watching as he moans, hips pushing against it in desperate need. you love this — the way he’s laid out for you, bound and completely at your mercy, all while wanting nothing more than to feel you fill him up.

“to feel you inside me,” he finally whimpers, the admission making you grin wickedly. that’s the answer you’ve been waiting for, and you can’t resist the urge to tease him further.

“good boy,” you purr, and with a smooth motion, you press the tip of the strap against him, teasing it against his entrance just long enough to make him squirm. god, he looks so fucking perfect like this — needy, bound, and completely ready for you.

you pound into him like your life depends on it, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room with each powerful thrust. thwack, thwack, you can hear the rhythmic noise, a wet, desperate symphony that fills the air, and it drives you wild. poor little satoru just wants to hold you, wants to feel your body pressed against his, but the bindings around his wrists keep him completely at your mercy.

“please,” he gasps, voice trembling with desperation. “lemme touch you…need to feel you.”

but you only pick up the pace, thwack, thwack, the sound of your bodies colliding drowning out his whines. “you know i can’t let you do that,” you tease, a wicked smile creeping across your face. “you’re mine to play with right now.”

his eyes widen, shimmering with unshed tears as he feels you hit his g-spot with relentless precision, as he moans, head thrown back against the couch. “i can’t… i can’t hold on much longer-”

“you’ll take it, 'toru,” you command, your voice low and sultry as you lean down, pressing your body against his. the warmth of your skin makes him squirm, but he’s helpless against the relentless rhythm of your thrusts. “you can take it.”

“please,” he whimpers, his voice breaking as the pressure inside him builds, each thrust pushing him closer to the edge. “’m so close… just want to—”

“want to what?” you prompt, your tone playful yet firm, teasing him as you continue to drive deeper. thwack, thwack, the sound of your bodies meeting fills the space, and you can see the pleasure painted across his face. “tell me what you want, baby.”

“want to cum!” he cries, desperation lacing his voice as he feels the coil tightening within him. “need it so bad… please!”

“not yet,” you say with a smirk, your breath hot against his skin. you pull back slightly, giving him a moment to breathe, but it only seems to heighten his need. “not until i say so. you’re gonna take every last bit of me.”

he lets out a frustrated cry, the sound high and needy, and he bucks his hips against you, trying to chase that pleasure, that sweet release. “god, please!” he gasps, tears spilling over as he struggles against the bindings, craving the connection. “i can’t— can’t hold back!”

“yes, you can,” you insist, your thrusts growing more forceful, the slap! of skin echoing louder, drowning out all his protests. “you’re gonna be a good boy and wait for me.”

“i can’t,” he sobs, his voice breaking as he feels himself teetering on the edge. “i need you-”

“you already have me, 'toru.” you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “now let go for me. be my good boy.”

satoru covers his face with his bound hands, the restraints pulling taut as he lets out the most gut-wrenching mewl, a sound that resonates deep within you. it’s a cry of pure pleasure, filled with desperation and need, and the moment it leaves his lips, it sends you spiraling into a frenzy.

“toru…” you breathe, your own body reacting to the intensity of his release, the way he succumbs to the pleasure you've built between you. with a final, powerful thrust, he sprays hot ribbons of cum all over himself, the warmth splattering across his chest and even hitting you, the mixture of pleasure and shame making his face flush even deeper.

“ahh! fuck!” he yelps, feeling the sensation hit his chin, and his body trembles as the wave of ecstasy washes over him. he’s completely lost in it, the world around him fading away as the climax overwhelms him. thwack, thwack, the sound of your thrusts falters for just a moment as you watch him unravel, each spurt sending shudders through his body, making him look even more divine, glistening and utterly wrecked.

“look at you,” you tease, your voice low and sultry as you take in the sight of him — face flushed, body quaking, cum dripping from his chin down to his heaving chest. “such a beautiful mess.”

he whimpers, the sound barely audible as he tries to catch his breath, the tears of pleasure still shimmering in his eyes. “i— i couldn’t help it,” he stammers, voice shaky, feeling the aftermath of his release pulsing through him. “it was too much…”

“too much?” you echo, unable to hide your smirk as you lean closer, pressing your body against his, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. “but you liked it, didn’t you? every second of it?”

“yes,” he admits, the confession spilling from his lips as he bites his bottom lip, unable to suppress the shy smile breaking through his pleasure-drunk haze. “it felt so good… i just wanted to… wanted to hold you.”

you chuckle softly, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the warm stickiness of his release. “next time, maybe i’ll let you,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his forehead, “but for now, you just focus on resting. you’ve earned it.”

he nods, breathless and still trembling from the intensity, the weight of his desire lingering in the air as he gazes up at you with adoration, completely spent and utterly satisfied.

❤︎ taglist: @ghost-buddies @no-irefusetotellumyname @byerno6 @anime-s1ut @stinkarinka (i couldn't help it, i needed to post this today.....)

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago

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Gentle Touches

TW: Jason has a panic attack ~500 words

Jason's world centers around you. It's you that brings him back from the spiraling thoughts that threaten to take over his mind. It's you, with your gentle touch that pulls him back to the present, away from manic laughter and breaking bones.

He thinks it's weak, the panic and fear that cripple him. There's no rhyme or reason, no one thing that triggers him into backing himself into a corner, hiding his face in his arms.

But you're always there. Always crouching in front of him, voice soft and patient until he's himself enough again to nod when you ask to touch him.

It's elating, addicting really, when you carefully push his hair back, guide his face up so he can see your eyes. His heart is racing, and when you cup his face, he's not sure if it's the adrenaline or the fact that you're touching him.

He's selfish, in moments like these. He allows himself to lean into your touch. Follows you eagerly when you guide his hand to rest over your heart. He knows his breathing is shallow. He doesn't know if it's because his ears are ringing or because he can feel your warmth.

He's intoxicated, by the way your voice is so calm and soft, instructing him to follow along with your breathing. He does, even if Jason secretly wants any excuse to stay like this.

His eyes dart between yours, taking in every emotion he can see. Even as his heart rate finally slows and he starts to remember where he is, you don't pull away. You stay exactly where you are, breathing steadily, touching him, letting him touch you.

You stay like that until embarrassment creeps along the back of his neck and he has to drop his hand. He mumbles something about being fine. He's aware he doesn't look it, sweaty and pupils blown wide.

You smile at him and stand. He's almost disappointed that the moment is over. Then, You offer him your hand. He's too drained to remember to filter the surprise on his face when he takes it.

You lead him to the couch. (You could lead him anywhere.) And he's more than willing to sit next to you.

The tension he didn't know he was holding disappears when you share a blanket with him, cover your legs and his with the plush fabric. He's not used to this. Not really.

Even if you help him every time, even if you always come back, he's still unsure when you gently pull his head down to rest on your shoulder. It's kind. You're always so kind to him.

Neither of you speak. But, you squeeze his hand when he finally finds the courage to lace his hand with yours. He hopes it says everything he doesn't know how to say.

He hopes it says 'thank you'. 'I need you'. 'I think I'm in love with you'. 'Please, stay'.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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entirelysein-e · 4 months ago

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『 Your Blessing 』

☼ synopsis: You're Douma's favorite and it's about time that his followers start worshiping you - and what's better than making them watch how you ride their leader?

☼ character: Douma

☼ wc: 1.6k

☼ cw: female!reader, afab!reader, cult leader Douma, penetrative sex, squirting, voyeurism, fingering, one clit slap, unprotected sex

☼ notes: The rot for Douma is bad so I have to bring this back

You were always Douma’s favorite as long as you can remember. The day you joined his cult, he made a vow to never eat you, that you're meant for something much greater - and while he does occasionally drink your blood, it's always as an offer from you, worshiping the very ground he walks on. You deserved the same devotion as he did in his eyes, needing his followers to praise you the way they praise him, crave your very presence and worship the ground you walk on, gracing everyone with your fragile humanity.

It was no surprise when he made you sit on his lap whenever he sat on his little throne, making sure his followers see the beauty that he calls his own, the one he would destroy the world for. The one not even he dares to disgrace.

“Look how they bow down to you, begging for you to bless them,” he hummed into your ear, the grip on your hips tightening when he saw the slightly uncomfortable look on your face. You always preferred not to be in the spotlight, to stand behind the man this was all about was almost more than you could handle, but he wanted you to be the main attraction, wanting to go one step further and make them see the way only he gets to see you, to grace their eyes once before they become his next meal. Your body was holy to Douma so he gently pulled you closer against his chest. “Wear your most beautiful dress tomorrow. I will show them my personal heaven,” he whispered, gently kissing your neck before dismissing his followers to plan tomorrow's session without your knowledge, despite the proximity your bodies held.

When everyone had gathered in front of Douma’s throne, you entered the room slowly, unsure what would happen, but Douma took your hand and guided you to sit down onto his lap once again. “You look ethereal my love,” he announced proudly and held your hips tightly before pushing your legs over his, making you sit there with spread legs as the heat creeped up your cheeks “What are you doing... this isn't decent,” you protested shyly and tried to close your legs again but he wouldn't let you. “Do not worry, my flower. I promised they will receive a blessing from you, you wouldn't want to disappoint our followers, would you?” He asked with a grin on his face and you knew that any further protest was futile - he made up his mind and nothing would change it. With a long sigh you tried to relax into his chest, knowing very well that the men and women blessed by you in any way are chosen to become his next meal if you liked it or not. You loved the man and were able to look past his ways, past him being a demon.

Douma's smirk grew when you relaxed against him, the tension in your thighs disappearing and he kissed your neck loving “That's right, my goddess. Just relax and let me handle this,” he hummed, tearing your dress in a way that exposed your perfect tits to his followers, soft gasps filling the room as you saw some of them blush or avert their eyes, displeasing their leader. “Eyes on her!” He spoke demanding and his words were final. All eyes were burning on your skin now, waiting for the leader's next move as he started kneading the flesh of your chest, gently tugging and twisting your nipples in ways that made you whimper and lean into his hands even more. You were addicted to his touch just like he was addicted to touching you, closing your eyes to drown out all the people watching the both of you, but Douma pinched your nipples harder “Tsk. Open your eyes. Bless them. Let them watch, look at their eyes, at their devotion to their goddess,” he said sternly and ripped your dress further until it was nothing but a broken piece of fabric to be tossed away. It felt humiliating to be completely naked in a room full of people who await your pleasure, who see every inch of your skin, wishing to touch you the way their leader did but they had full faith in him, knowing he will take great care of their goddess.

His slender hands traveled down your body, sharp nails leaving small streaks in their wake but not enough to cut your skin or to hurt you and you felt yourself squirm in anticipation, seeing all these awaiting faces of your followers. There was no reason to be ashamed in front of them, knowing they would never have an ill thought about their goddess, feeling like they're a witness to the most holy of all ceremonies - getting to see their leader please their goddess. The feeling of his fingers parting your folds ripped you out of your thoughts, your hands holding onto the thighs you were seated on and he smirked at the way everyone's eyes were now glued to your beautiful core, spread for their viewing pleasure. “My my, would you look at how wet you are… Are you pleased by their presence?” Douma teased before biting your earlobe ever so gently. “We should give them what they want, don't you think?” He added and watched your eyebrows knit up in pleasure the moment a single finger slid through your folds to gather your slick so he could flick your puffy clit just enough to make you whimper and clutch onto his thighs.

“That's my flower… don't hold these pretty noises back,” he encouraged you to let go, massaging your bundle of nerves in small circles until your neglected entrance started to clench around nothing.

Douma knew better than to finger you, his nails far too long and the noises you made when he splits you open on his cock without preparing your weeping cunt first are far too heavenly to miss out on. Just to tease you he ran one of his fingers over your entrance and dipped in ever so slightly, a small string of sour arousal connected to his finger the moment he pulled back to lick his digit clean.

“Always so sweet for me,” he hummed and lifted you gently, the tip of his impressive cock nudging against your dripping entrance which made you whine, knowing all too well that he will push himself in with just a single thrust to make you moan his name. He didn't disappoint you, his entire length disappearing inside of your core the moment his tip was entirely past your folds - this time much slower than usual, making sure he can feel every little ridge in your velvet walls and drawing your moan of his name out. “Douuuumaaa” you whined loudly, hating and loving the intense feeling of getting impaled on his huge length.

Douma gave you only a short moment to adjust, your walls already fluttering wildly and sucking him even further inside. “You're my little vixen… so sweet and innocent but the moment you have my cock inside of you, you make the lewdest little noises… don't you?” He mused, thrusting his hips sharply to make you squeal out a moan to prove his point. You wanted nothing more than to close your eyes, to enjoy the feeling fully, hoping he wouldn't notice but Douma had his eyes everywhere. The little slap to your sensitive clit made you open them just a split second after closing them, whining loudly

“Don't be so disrespectful… they need their goddess to bless them,” he almost scolded you and began moving your hips up and down his length, indicating for you to start riding him. It humiliated you, helplessly moaning on your lovers cock as your followers watched with this intense hunger for you, to touch you, to help you receive pleasure but they knew better than to ever lay a single finger onto your sacred body.

Your walls started to clench around Douma and moving became harder and harder until he held onto your thighs to fuck into you like there's no tomorrow - and for some chosen ones there would be none. Your moans started to sound like a lewd prayer, chanting his name over and over as it echoed off the walls until the only noise to be heard was heavy breathing and the squelching noise of your obscenely wet cunt, helplessly squirting in the intensity of the orgasm Douma brought to you. “That's it, flower. Bless these lost people with your love, cleanse their souls,” he called out proud and continued to fuck you through your release just to keep going, rubbing circles onto your overly sensitive bundle of nerves as your followers came closer and closer, wanting to receive their blessing from you which made Douma chuckle “See this, petal? It looks like you need to release a few more times for your greedy people,” he mused, feeling your walls flutter in affirmation, knowing you wouldn't mind falling apart on his length until you're begging for him to stop - you always wanted more and more the more you came for him. It filled him with pride to watch you come undone once more, your juices spraying out of you and onto the floor, some drops landing on your followers and he knew that those are the ones he will devour first - but none would leave this room alive, having witnessed his private heaven.

Networks: @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

#-ˋˏ ༻luma's musings #kny x reader #kny smut #douma x reader #douma smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer smut #douma #kny douma #kimetsu no yaiba #💫hotter than the sun💫

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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

Text

By Such A Little Taste

Sylus x fem!Reader

This got so far away from me ngl One minute you're staring at Sylus's hands while he plays the claw machine, the next you're writing 4k words about those hands

Title from "Hooked (Addicted You Might Say)" by Eleisha Eagle

NSFW, smut below the cut

Warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, hand/finger kink, marking, biting, kissing, teasing, dacryphilia/crying, swearing, praise kink, choking, breathplay, pet names, nipple play, embarrassment, shyness

Word Count: 4,085 (Y'ALL 😭)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Which one do you want me to get?”

You look through the glass of the arcade machine. The attendees always make sure to keep it clean from any kids leaving sticky fingerprints on it, so every plushie is on full display. A red fox with a little wintery cape, a hermit crab with an ice cream cone on its back, and a cockatiel with bright red cheeks. You just love looking at them all.

“Do you think you can get the Cone Crab?” You point to it through the glass, without touching of course. “I don’t think I have it yet.”

Sylus smiles down at you. “Whatever you want, sweetie.”

He inserts the token smoothly, pressing it into the slot with his thumb. You cozy up to his side like you always do, holding his elbow while trying not to restrict his movements. His hand rests lazily on the joystick, fingers relaxed as he adjusts the claw. His fingers occasionally tap thoughtfully against the red top, trying to decide the best plan of attack to get the plushie you so desperately want.

Though, now that you’re here, the plushie is the last thing on your mind.

You’ve always known that Sylus has nice hands. They’re huge, easily dwarfing yours every time you hold them. Sometimes, you even hold onto just a few of his fingers or his pinky, just so your hand doesn’t get too tired. He loves it, too. He loves when you’re curled up into him, playing with his hand, comparing the sizes.

Tonight, though, those thoughts go a little bit further. You think about the way it effortlessly curled around your neck in the photobooth earlier tonight. How his fingers traced along your back when the crowd at the mall got a little too dense for your liking. The way they showed no mercy to Wanderers, yet tenderly bandaged your wounds.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when his elbow gently nudges you. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

Your cheeks burn red hot, as if he could possibly ever know what you were just thinking about. You scoff. “Nothing.”

“Oh? Is that so?” He leans down to whisper by your ear. You can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he says, “Then, why aren’t you claiming the prize?”

Claiming the- Oh. You jolt away from him, blush creeping up to your ears as you reach down and push open the flap to grab the Cone Crab. You hug it to your chest and determinedly avoid meeting his eyes. You nod into the machine again. “Okay, what about a Snowy Fox? The one I have is getting a little lonely.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you back into his side. “Of course. Try to pay attention this time, sweetie,” he purrs the pet name.

You can feel his muscles shift as he wraps his arm around your shoulders to hold the joystick once more. It’s hardly an issue with how tall he is, but you can tell he’s drawing you in closer than necessary… That being said, you don’t move. No, you just bite the inside of your cheek and stare down the claw like you have a vendetta against it.

It shifts along the top, honing in on a Snowy Fox plushie that sits off to the side. Thankfully, it’s not right up against the wall, or else he wouldn’t even have a chance of getting one without using his Evol. He hums, the sound deep and resonating within his chest right by your head, as he presses the button. The claw descends, loosely “grabs” at the fox’s head, and drops nothing but air into the chute.

Unfortunately, the proximity draws your eyes right back to his hand.

You really try not to keep staring. Really, you try. But it’s a useless attempt at best and woefully futile at worst when he chuckles, staring down at you with that knowing glimmer in his eye after he catches you staring at the prominent veins that run through his hand.

He shifts his hand back so his fingers curl sinfully around the red top as he pushes it forward to hover back over the Snowy Fox he missed just seconds ago. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips graze the curve of your ear. “I see where your mind is tonight,” he muses.

You exhale sharply through your nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of responding, he lifts his hand off the top of the joystick until just his fingers, long and practiced, trail along the front as he shifts the crane back a touch. His thumb, coming around the side, shifts it to the left.

“Remember to breathe.”

You jab your elbow into his ribs. He chuckles, standing up straight as he presses the button. The claw comes right down over the fox and finally gets a good grasp on the plushie. You watch it get carried through the air and to the chute. He releases you so you can retrieve it, clutching it to your chest with the crab.

“Would you like a turn now, sweetie?”

You narrow your eyes up at him. He’s planning something, you just know it. But it couldn’t be worse than watching his hands at work. You shove the plushies into his chest. He takes them and steps back. You definitely do not notice, at all, how both plushies fit in just one of his hands.

He slips another token into the slot, arm brushing against yours teasingly. You don’t react. The bear has been poked plenty, you don’t need to rile him up any further.

Eyes on the prize, the Golden Throat, you move the claw so it hovers just over the bird. Mephisto would surely love to play with it. (Even if playing with it meant ripping it to shreds.) The thought eases the tension in your shoulders. With a few minor adjustments, you press the button. And… nothing. The cockatiel falls over onto its side, staring forlornly up at you.

“Would you like some help, sweetie? Remember, you’ve only got one shot left.” He brings his hand around, golden token shining in the dancing lights of the machine as he slips it between his fingers. He holds it up with his thumb, pressing the coin face into the side of his index finger. It’s so small in his hands.

“No, I can do it.” You take the coin from him and jam it into the slot. Your face is scrunched up with concentration as you realign the crane.

You take a little longer than usual to line it up. A warm hand covers yours, engulfing it as his fingers curl overtop yours. “You’re so close, kitten,” he muses. The double entendre isn’t lost on you. “Just a little…” His index slides between two of your fingers, pushing them aside until it nestles at the crook. You feel your face burning again. “There.”

You push the button, too dazed to even check his work. His breath fans across the back of your neck. If the arcade was crowded today, you’re sure you would have been kicked out by now. The winning jingle sounds with a flash of lights.

“Good girl.”

And that’s what breaks you.

You practically push him away so you can grab the toy, not even taking the chance to cradle or admire it like usual. You shove it into his arm while he laughs, taking his free hand to drag him out of the mall as fast as possible.

He’s even worse in the car ride home. One of his hands is on the steering wheel, calmly turning it with just the flat of his hand around corners, or running his thumb in circles over the hardened leather all too knowingly. His other is on your thigh, between your legs, almost but not quite where you need him right now. It takes all your willpower not to guide him there yourself in the middle of traffic.

Once you’ve passed the border into the N109 Zone and he’s recklessly speeding up now that there are no laws to stop him, he squeezes the fat of your thigh. “You’re being so patient, kitten. Just a little further.”

Your sigh comes out shaky and impatient. “You’re still an asshole.”

Sylus just smirks.

You thank your lucky stars that Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen when you get to the mansion. The plushies all haphazardly lay on their sides in the back seat. You can’t think to feel bad for them, can’t think about anything else but the need pulsing between your legs, as you grab his hand and drag him inside.

Once you’re past the threshold, he’s lifting you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You squeal at the sudden shift in perspective, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. His other hand holds your thigh, fingertips digging lightly into the plump flesh, thumb stroking just under the hem of your dress. You kiss behind his ear, along his jaw, bite at his pulse. He nips at the helix of your ear playfully.

As soon as you’re in his room, you’re being laid out on the bed, his hand cradling your neck so you don’t land too harshly. His knees cage your hips as he supports himself over you with one hand. Warm lips slot over yours. His free hand slides under your dress, slowly working it up your body. His touch feels heavenly, igniting every nerve that was already burning on the way here.

The kiss is languid, remaining so no matter how much you try to deepen it. His wicked grin taunts you. “What happened to all that patience you had earlier?” he teases. You bite his lower lip. He hisses at the sting, moving down to bite just under your jaw. “Behave,” he warns. “I’ll take care of you.”

He sits up to fully remove your dress. You’re a vision that would be coveted by the Romans who would think you a goddess of the highest renown. Your chest rising and falling, already panting with desperate need. Your eyes staring into his, begging for more, more, more. Your hands reaching out to grab the hem of his red sweater. He grabs them, securing both wrists in just one of his hands to pin them above your head. He tsks with a grin.

“Not yet, darling. I need to make sure I fulfill all your fantasies from earlier, first.” Your face heats up. You have to look away, turning your head to hide your embarrassment against your arm.

He releases your hands, his own sliding down and reaching under you to undo the pretty lace bra you’d bought for yourself with his black card. He’d teased you about trying it on for him when you got back, having seen the purchase on his phone. It very quickly became one of his favorites. He drops it off the side of the bed with your dress, but leaves your panties on, even as you buck up against his hips.

“Patience, remember?”

You groan pathetically. “Please, Sy,” you beg. “Just touch me, please.”

“I was already planning on it, sweetie.”

He leans down over your body again, keeping himself up by his knees as he trails open mouth kisses along your neck. His hands mirror each other, running down the sides of your ribcage, down to your stomach and back, until they reach your breasts. His mouth seeks out your nipple, sucking, licking, savoring the soft flesh against his tongue. You gasp when his teeth nip at the hardened bud, back arching to press your chest further against his mouth.

A beautiful coating of saliva shines on your breast when he pulls away. It becomes lubricant for his thumb as he rubs slow, teasing circles along your areola, pushing his spit around like paint on a canvas before it finally brushes over your nipple. His other hand guides your neglected tit into his mouth, squeezing rough enough to leave marks as he takes his sweet time tending to you.

His red sweater rubs against your overheated bare skin. The soft fibers scrape over your stomach, tickling you and making your body flinch away on instinct. His pants are no better, acting as a solid barrier between your aching heat and the bulge pressing against you. You try to cant your hips up again, trying to get the friction you need, but his hand lets go of your breast to hold you firmly against the mattress.

Your nipple is released from his mouth with a wet pop, covered in saliva and red markings. His lips find your pulse, leaving gentler kisses over the artery. “I wonder what you were thinking about,” he muses, voice rough with lust. He can feel your heart racing against his lips. He’s tempted to bite down like the vampire from his story, but he settles for sucking a mark into the unmarred skin instead. It sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms, still staying obediently above your head. “Watching my hands… What did you picture, sweetheart?”

The thoughts come rushing in all at once. The beautifully prominent veins on his hand. The way his fingers curled around the joystick. The sinful way he teased your fingers apart while helping you…

The whimper comes utterly unbidden when his fingers trail from your hip to dance across the top of your panties. “Talk to me,” he encourages in a low purr. His fingers curl under the elastic band, slowly teasing one side off of your hip. “What were you thinking of?”

Your face is burning red hot with embarrassment and desire. You always struggle with speaking like this, when he asks you something so simple but so sinful. But you know that he’ll reward you so nicely if you speak up. It’s a dangerous motivator sometimes. “A-At the photobooth, when you wrapped your hand around my neck,” you stutter out.

His eyebrow quirks up with a smirk to match. “Do you like having my hand around your throat, sweetheart?” He lifts his head from your neck, watching as his hand trails from your panties, along your body, over your collarbones to your neck. The way your body twitches with every light brush is addicting. “Do you like knowing…” His palm rests over your trachea, fingers curling around the sides of your neck. “... just how easy it would be for me to… choke you?” He squeezes his fingers lightly for emphasis. He feels when you swallow, throat bobbing against his palm.

You nod slightly, biting your lip to fight back the noises he so easily draws from you. Even still, small whimpers emanate from your throat.

His index finger shifts up to rest along your jaw. He turns your head to the side slightly, taking notice of how your eyes flutter shut under his control.

“Oh, does this kitten like to be controlled? Should I get her a lovely little collar?”

The thought alone draws a mewling whine from deep within you. He chuckles, tilting your head back in place with his thumb as he leans down to capture your mouth. He pulls your lip from your teeth, sucking on it until it's beautifully swollen before he kisses you properly. His tongue delves into you, licking into your pliant mouth with deceptive sweetness as he tightens his hold again. He growls when he hears the hitch in your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers, releasing the pressure and rubbing his fingers soothingly along the sides of your neck. “What else were you thinking of, hm?”

His red eyes bore into you so calmly, so naturally. It’s hard to keep looking at him, especially as you fight to answer his question. “How big they are,” you admit.

He smiles. It’s such an innocent remark. He knows how big they are compared to yours, how much you love laying your hand over his just to remind yourself. He leaves his hand on your throat, raising the other one to brush his knuckles along your arm as he seeks out your hand. You curl your fingers between his almost instantly, holding onto him like a lifeline. He turns them over to bring your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “What else?”

You whine, closing your eyes to hide from his stare. “Please don’t make me say it,” you beg.

“Why not?” You don’t answer his question. “Hmm. Shall I guess, then?”

He disentangles from your hand after one last kiss, bringing it to rest in his hair. You dig your hand into the soft locks immediately, like it’s second nature. He kisses your lips softly. The feeling lingers even as he trails kisses down your body once again. Down your neck, over your sternum, taking one detour to bite at your tits. His hand follows in his wake, massaging and caressing your skin.

He shifts to be kneeling between your legs, resting them over his thighs as he reaches your navel. His hand passes him, however, pulling your panties down your other hip. “Am I warm?” His hot breath fans over your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brush sinfully over the edge of the elastic band. His eyes meet yours again.

You nod. His thumb caresses your jaw, a silent praise for answering him. You lift your hips experimentally, worried he’ll push them down again, but his hand slips under you instead, dragging down the fabric over your ass. As more skin is revealed, his kisses get lower. You tug at his hair, trying to push him closer. “Sy, please…”

He hums, tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hip. “Hm? What is it, sweetheart? Do you feel like telling me what you were thinking of now?”

You halfheartedly glare at him. “You’re such a bastard.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

His hand glides smoothly over your ass, fingers guiding your panties further down your thighs. Before you can be fully uncovered, he leans down between your legs to kiss your cunt through the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasp sharply, opening wider for him. He makes sure you’re watching when he gathers the material in his teeth and drags them down. You hope you never forget that sight.

He sits back to remove the final piece of your attire, slipping off your heels in the process. You wish you could sit up and tear his clothes off of him, throw them to the side with reckless abandon to expose his body to you. That thought is immediately gone the second you feel his fingers finally dragging through your folds. Just like he mimicked at the arcade to your fingers, he parts your lips until he finds your clitorus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, the rough edges to his voice softening. He kisses your thighs as he gathers up your slick on two of his fingers, groaning at how absolutely soaked you are. “So fucking gorgeous.”

He raises his coated fingers to your lips. You suck on them without question, moaning around them as you taste yourself, as you lick up every drop he gathered until all that remains is your saliva. He presses down on your tongue, choking you gently at the same time until you gag. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, soothing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”

Your scent fills his senses. All he can think about is how good you must taste, how you’d feel clenching around his fingers and tongue as he ravages you, your heady scent consuming his every coherent thought until he’s utterly drunk on your cum.

He can’t wait any longer.

His hands slide down your body to grasp your thighs, spreading them wider, guiding your calves over his shoulders as he dives in like he’s starving on death row and you’re his last meal. He moans as he licks a stripe up your cunt, swallowing everything you can give him and seeking more. His fingers create divots in your skin as they press down, promising bruises as they tug you closer and closer, until your head is barely on the pillows anymore.

You cry out his name through moans and gasps. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, keeping him firmly against you. He nudges his nose against your clit. Your hips jerk to ride his face and he nearly lets you. Any other night, he would have loved to flip you over so you could sit on his face, use him, ride him, until he’s suffocating in all of you. Tonight, though, he pulls his mouth from your weeping hole to suck on your clit.

It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. You’re torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, begging him mindlessly, though you don’t know what for. One of his hands releases your thigh to take over where he left off. One long finger pushes slowly into you, easily accepted with how fucking wet you are, dripping slick down his hand. It fucks into you, curling to rub at your g-spot with a professional expertise. His second finger slides in just as easily, creating a steady rhythm that draws you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Tears slip down your cheeks, so fucking lost to the intensity of his attention to your clit. You’re so fucking close already. Air gets caught in your throat, forcing its way out through ragged moans. You can’t even get the words out to warn him. That swell of pressure builds in your abdomen too fast. Your cunt clenches harshly around his fingers, trying to draw them in deeper. Sylus’s eyes watch your face in a half-lidded haze, desperate to catch the exact moment you come undone for him.

Your thighs squeeze his head as your orgasm snaps inside you. Your head is thrown back against the pillows, fingers in a death grip in Sylus’s hair as your cum gushes out of you. He eases up on your clit when you tremble, shaking your head without conscious thought as it becomes too much. His fingers gently ease you through the afterwaves, hand drenched in your delicious slick. When your hands and your thighs relax, he pulls away.

You blearily open your eyes to watch him clean his hand with his tongue. It curls around his fingers, slides up his wrist and forearm to ensure he doesn’t lose a single drop; licks his lips as he pants for air. His eyes flicker to your cunt. Your walls clench around nothing. Your clit is swollen and sensitive to all hell. As much as he would love to go back in, clean you up with his tongue alone, he resists.

He gently lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging your thighs to ease the lingering tension from them as he leans down to kiss you softly, sweetly. All you can taste is yourself on his lips. You comb your fingers through his hair, carefully trying to make up for any pain you may have caused. He sighs into your mouth, completely relaxed with your touch.

It’s you who pulls away first, tilting your chin up to get him to let up. He trails his kisses along your cheek instead. “You still haven’t been taken care of,” you point out.

He chuckles airily. “I assure you, I’ve been well taken care of.” You turn your head so he sees your look of confusion. He sighs as he sits back up. Sure enough, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants that is definitely not from you. Your face burns as you look up at him.

“I… You came just from eating me out?” you gape in disbelief.

His cheeks are pink, too, despite the way he playfully shakes his head. “Don’t let it inflate your ego too much, sweetheart.”

You watch as he gets off the bed to go to the ensuite bathroom. It’s not hard to tell it’s uncomfortable being in his soiled pants, but he gets a wet cloth to take care of you first. You lay back, grinning like an idiot as he tends to the mess you’ve made. “I’m flattered.”

“Leave it alone, kitten.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll spend the rest of the night finding every single way I can make you cum without touching you.”

“...”

“... Promise?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #fem reader #x fem reader #female reader #x female reader #smut

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mischievousmoony · 5 months ago

Text

𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑… 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 (𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝)

⟢ poly!marauders x fem!reader (initial wolfstar & lily x reader)

⟢ summary: james is the sun, the center of the universe, of course when you realize how brightly he shines you can't help but fight over him. it comes unexpectedly, the way it brings you all together . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁3.6k

⟢ warnings/tags: suggestive content/mature themes, hogwarts is a university these characters are in their 20s, poly!marauders, confident!reader, not proofread

⟢ masterlist

note: the dialogue is cringe i fear... this is another one i wrote for fun in the notes app before i started being active on here again

At first, James thought it was jealousy. When he saw you kiss Lily goodbye at the portrait hole, he felt it for the first time. He couldn’t really tell who he felt it for, though. But then he felt it again, this time when he found Remus and Sirius cuddling in their shared dorm, and he’d chalked it up to being jealous that his friends were in happy relationships whilst he was alone.

He tried flirting with other people, thinking a relationship of his own would cure these feelings. In his endeavors, James found that flirting was something he’s actually quite good at. But when he was on the receiving end of flirtatious remarks, he noticed his stomach never flipped the way it did for his friends, and all they had to do was say ‘hello’ to make it happen. He even tried to go on a date, but he found himself itching to be back at Gryffindor Tower where you lot were hanging out.

So, James decided to face the facts. He has a crush… or four, he supposes. But it’s not like romance between him and his friends is unheard of. Other students around Hogwarts used to poke fun at you all for the inter friend group dating, accusing you of things like passing each other around for the fun of it.

Someone once told Sirius he couldn’t escape the incestuous nature of his family, and that’s when the boys started hexing anyone who made any sort of joke on the topic. Soon enough, people learned to keep their mouths shut.

But it wasn’t what other students made it seem. You all may have been perceived as a lascivious bunch who couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, but there were deep emotions between some of you that surpassed mere physical attraction.

James probably had one of the most tame histories, save for Peter, who managed to find a girlfriend outside of the group. In James’ past, there was casual fling with Lily, which both parties wanted to be more, yet neither ever had the courage to say it. The relationship ended when they both inwardly thought they’d be better off letting go than silently yearning for more. Aside from that, James had managed to kiss each of you some way or another, whether it be via drinking games or experimental fun.

As for the rest of you, let’s just say you all did a bit more than kiss some of the other members in your group before you all coupled off.

You, for example, have dabbled in romance with both Sirius and Remus at different points in time. There was a frenzied night with Remus that had you both longing for more, yet never acting on it. And there was a time where everyone thought you and Sirius would end up together. The tension between you two was once so palpable it pervaded your every interaction and shrouded your awareness of anything but each other. It fizzled after a while of neither of you ever making a real move, but sometimes you both feel it creep back into your conversations like an addiction you couldn’t shake.

Lily and Remus also had a history. They were together for a while, a saccharine relationship that made those around them equally jealous as they were nauseous. Eventually, they broke it off because they couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. They theorized that they must be better off as friends, but what could’ve been still seems to loom over them.

And James doesn’t know this, if he found out now he might disintegrate on the spot, but everyone’s fancied him at some point. But there’s something about Potters and their tendency to be oblivious. Everyone’s tried to get out of James’ friend zone and it went quite unnoticed. Lily was the only one who’s ever succeeded, and yet, they let each other become their ones that got away.

It might be a good thing that James never knew about his friends’ crushes. He probably would’ve turned most of you down, depending on the timing. And that would’ve haunted him now. He already has to deal with the pining and the nerves and the misery of it all. Regret added to that mix would send him over the edge.

After all, the minute you all walk into the common room his heart is already racing with nerves.

First came Remus and Sirius, Remus having his arm slung across Sirius’ shoulders. Sirius’ walk is an odd looking shuffle due to the way he presses himself into his boyfriend’s side.

There’s the pining. James wishes he could be sandwiched between them. He imagines shuffling along, like Sirius, and watching the pace of their footsteps sync up.

Next, James sees Lily. Beaming, as always. She has a firm grip on your hand as she tows you in after her. You two are giggling about something and James swears he’s never heard anything more beautiful than the way your laughters intertwine. He’d give anything to be included in whatever you two were so charmed by.

“Hey, Prongs,” Remus greets as they sit on the sofa next to him. Remus’ knees knock against James’. James doesn’t want to think about how much it affects him.

“Hi Jamie,” you say in a sing song voice, passing in front of him as Lily leads you to sit on the armchair with her. The two of you might as well be on top of each other when you get situated, your legs twisted together.

James shifts in his seat, “Hi,” he rasps, then clears his throat, “Hi guys.”

“What are you up to?” Lily bats her beautiful, long eyelashes at James.

James picks up a book Peter left on the end table next to him, “Studying,” he lies. What he was really doing was thinking about all of you. He couldn’t exactly disclose that, now could he?

Lily’s eyes dart down to the cover of the book, “Advanced History of Magic?”

“I thought you dropped that after OWLs?” You wonder aloud.

James presses his lips into a line while he tries to think of what to say, “Yeah, I, er- I’m not studying for class. I’m studying for pleasure. History is a very important subject.” James internally groans. He curses Peter in his mind for not leaving a better book behind.

The couples around him seem to share skeptical glances that make James want to walk into the Black Lake, lie down, and drown there.

James' next words tumble out like a torrent, “It’s actually Peter’s. He was telling me something interesting from his class. Wanted to read up on it myself. Anyway, I should go return this to him. Cheers, guys.”

Before anyone can say anything, James is already speeding off with the book.

Oh, the misery. James hates how awkward things have become. He’s not usually an awkward person, but being around all four people he’s crushing on is overwhelming, even for him.

Somewhere in Hogwarts’ halls, James leans against one of the cold stone walls and hugs Peter’s book to his chest.

What is wrong with me, he thinks. And then he gets a tad arrogant, I’m James Potter! I can handle anything. Even having a thing for my best friends.

James decides right then and there that he doesn’t want to feel like such a mess anymore. It’s time for a different approach.

The next time he sees one of you, he thinks to himself, you know how to be confident, James, you’ve done it before. And so he puts on his best act.

But for some reason, acting confident translated into constantly flirting with all of his friends. He really had no intention of doing that, it’s not like he actually wanted to get with any of you. He’d never want to try to interfere in your relationships. But for some reason, as his words tumbled out with amorous undertones and romantic implications, the negative emotions tumbled away too. So he kind of just kept doing it.

From then on, your interactions with James have gone much more smoothly. Admittedly, they were also much more intoxicating.

One day after Quidditch practice, James finds you and Lily wrapped up in each other’s arms on the sofa. Your arms are around Lily’s waist as you both watch the crackle of the fireplace before you. The sofa’s back cushions lay strewn across the floor to accommodate the space the two of you take up.

With a grin fitting his face, James approaches the sofa.

“Hey,” he calls on his approach. The two of you shift onto your backs to look in the direction of James’ voice behind you. When he arrives, he leans his forearms on the back of the sofa, one folded over the other, and hovers above you two, “Lily, Y/N.” He greets.

“Hi James,” Lily says on behalf of you both.

James eyes leisurely drift along the length of the couch and back up again, “Don’t you two look cozy.”

“Sure are,” Lily grins lazily, “If there were any more room on here we’d invite you to join,” your girlfriend jokes.

“That’s alright, doll,” James says with a lopsided smile. He then leans in closer to you, and you notice the sparkling reflection of the firelight in his eyes. He lowers his voice to a whisper as if he’s telling you a secret, “Next time.” His voice comes out like silk and his eye contact is unwavering. You find it too intoxicating to even blink.

Your lips part slightly, and you can hear Lily’s breath get caught in her throat. It was just two words, it really shouldn’t have affected you two so much. Maybe it’s the way he said them… or maybe it’s just James. James, whose tousled hair is sticking to his forehead still from a strenuous practice and whose lips are only centimeters away.

A moment of silence passes between you three before James straightens out his spine, standing with his hands resting where his forearms previously were.

His fingers pitter patter against the sofa back, “I’m off to shower…” James says, “Save me a seat at dinner?”

Without waiting for a reply, James walks towards the boys dormitories. You both watch James disappear up the stairs. When you look at Lily, you find her face flushed. You wiggle your eyebrows and she slaps you on the arm, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. Her hand lingers, then trails down to fit into yours. She discovers a sweaty palm, and now she’s the one raising her eyebrows.

A few days later, Remus and Sirius find themselves in a similar situation.

The three Marauders found themselves running for their lives from Filch after attempting to pull a prank without their fourth, who had to bail last minute. They had to rethink the plan on the spot without the extra set of hands, and found themselves nearly getting caught.

Luckily, Remus knew this area of the castle intimately from his prefects rounds, and found them a room to hide in.

The boys tumble inside. Sirius and James find themselves with their backs to the nearest wall, both heaving to catch their breaths. Remus locks the door behind them, and releases a shocked laugh as he backs into the room.

“Quick thinking, Rem. I wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve.” James says, his tone suggestive.

“Oi!” Sirius exclaims while Remus flushes. Sirius looks a bit amused, but still feels a bit territorial too.

James swivels to face Sirius, his body not coming out of contact with the wall. He leans his forearm on the stones above Sirius’ head. Being a bit shorter, Sirius has to look up at James as he leans in ever so slightly, “Don’t worry, Sirius. I find your secrets just as intriguing.”

Territorial feelings cured. Sirius tries to place the feelings that replaced them and… oh. His head snaps towards his boyfriend, who looks downright besotted with the display in front of him.

James maintains eye contact and a confident smirk as lets his arm slide down the wall until his palm is flat against it, level with Sirius’ head. He gives the wall a gently pat, then abruptly turns away.

He takes a single step towards Remus, “I have a sneaking suspicion Filch is still lurking in the area. I’ve got the cloak, so I’m off to be your knight in shining armor and cause a distraction.” James winks, and then he’s out the door.

The pair of boys that were left behind watch the door thoughtfully for a few moments.

Sirius’ tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he prepares himself to make a bold suggestion.

“Hey Moony?” he asks.

“Yeah?” Remus responds breathlessly.

“Hear me out about something…” Sirius trails off, still looking in the direction James left in.

A week later, you and Lily enter the common room in search of your messy-haired friend. He spots you two before either of you find him.

“If it isn’t my favorite girls,” James waves you both over to where he is seated, which is a small table by the window. Remus and Sirius, who look a bit peeved to have James’ attention drawn away from them, are sitting across from him.

“What brings you here?” James asks when you arrive at his side, “It’s date night, if I’m not mistaken, isn’t it?”

You share a look with Lily, “Yes, actually, we’re just about to head off to Hogsmeade.”

Lily rests a hand on James’ shoulder, “But we were thinking… we’d love it if you’d join us.”

While the confusion on James’ face starts to soften into understanding, Sirius chokes on his own spit. His voice is strained as he holds back from coughing, “James is busy.”

Your eyes dart to Sirius, “Is he?” then back to James. “Couldn’t you make some time?” You bat your eyes at him.

Sirius looks horrified, “We have some— Marauders only!— business to attend to. James was just about to accept our invitation, isn’t that right, Prongs?”

“Uhh, I-” James sputters, wildly taken aback by what’s happening. What is happening?

“Well why don’t you two just invite Peter,” you suggest callously as Lily’s grip on James’ shoulder turns possessive.

“This isn’t the kind of business we want to invite Peter to. We want James.” Sirius’ eyes narrow.

You furrow your brows at Sirius’ words and it takes a moment for the meaning of them to sink in. Your features harden as Sirius and Remus suddenly go from friends to competitors.

“Well I guess you’re out of luck, then.” You say, squinting down at Sirius, “I think James is going to want to come with us.”

Sirius didn’t much like the way you looked down on him, so he brought himself up to his feet where he could tower over you.

“It’s cute that you think so, but we’re closer to James than anyone. James is our best friend.”

“And I think it’ll be staying that way.”

“I beg to differ.” Sirius counters, his tone laced with arrogance.

James’ jaw goes slack at the implication.

“If you're going to beg I prefer that you get on your knees first.” Your voice is dripping with mockery, challenge, and something else that takes everyone a moment to decipher.

It’s something familiar, a certain tension that’s proving once again to have never fully gone away. It flashes in Sirius’ eyes too, his fiery gaze wavering to give way for a fervent expression.

The sudden shift in tone sent an electric shock through the three onlookers, James’ jaw dropping impossibly lower.

“Trust me, doll. Where I’m involved, I’m not the one who’s gonna be begging on their knees.”

Remus somehow looks like he’s enjoying this, which should be unusual for a guy watching his boyfriend flirt with someone else. He’s leaned back in his seat, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips, as his eyes dart between each of his friends.

“What’s happening,” James chokes out, the nerves he expelled weeks ago suddenly bubbling back up again.

No one answers James. Remus is having too much fun and you are too busy staring down Sirius. Lily joins you, inching closer to both you and him as she leans over your shoulder, her body pressing into your back.

“Oh, he’s lying, don’t you think?” She says, her voice velvety smooth.

“Certainly so. I have it on good authority that he’s the type to want to be in charge,” you jut your chin toward Remus, whose gaze you meet while memories of each other swirl around in your minds, bringing matching twinkles to your eyes.

“Can-? Can I interject?” James takes a shot at cutting through the tension, his voice cracking.

“Of course, Jamie,” you turn your head from Sirius to look at him but a soft hand pinching your chin gently turns you right back.

“Eyes on me, dollface, I’m not done with you,” Sirius says firmly, as if proving how commanding he can be.

A choked noise emits from James’ throat and it’s not clear if it’s in protest of being cast aside again or a direct reaction to the way Sirius is handling you.

Remus inches his hand towards James’, bumping his pinky into his. “Sit tight, I want to see where this goes,” he tells him.

“See? So effortlessly commanding,” you vocalize to Lily, a hungry look in your eyes as they flick to Remus.

Sirius’ possessive nature flares up. “This has been real cute, but you can you can back off of them now,” Sirius say, referring to both his boyfriend and James.

Your eyes dart back to Sirius and that hungry sort of look doesn’t falter, “Want me to focus on you, do you? Ddon’t worry, baby, I can multitask.”

“Let's cut to the chase, are you two about to fight or kiss?” James defies Remus’ command to sit tight, suddenly speaking boldly, regaining his confidence from either sheer will or impatience, “Either is fine, I suppose, as long as you continue to let me watch.”

“I second that,” Remus agrees at once.

“Third,” Lily chimes in, “though I’d prefer to see the ladder.”

As James words sink in, it brings you back down to reality, that familiar veil of tension that shrouds your better judgment lifting.

Worry filters in first, your actions suddenly feeling inappropriate. That they were, but you’re less worried about the nature of your actions and more so the fact that you behaved in such away with someone else right in front of your girlfriend. When you look at her, you’re met with a sly countenance that reminds you she was an active participant.

You’re not the only one having inner turmoil after the racy display, a silence that’s tense for different reasons washing over you all. Everyone seems to be contemplating the implications of what just happened and how you all so fondly reacted to it.

Lily is the one to cut through the silence first.

“You know… I wouldn’t mind if all three of you joined us,” Lily tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as she asks “Do you, Lovie?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all,” your words coming out like a plea when you respond.

Remus carefully stands from his seat, approaching Sirius with revere and settling his arm across his shoulder. His free hand extends to you, which you take without hesitation. His tender touch sends shivers up your spine.

Your four sets of eyes drift to James, who’s still in his seat trying to process what’s going on. When it sinks that this is real life, he looks back at you all like you’re a newfound treasure.

It’s instant, the way the feelings that never went away metamorphosize into something beautiful and new. And it’s an adjustment, for sure, but you all lean into it with surprising ease.

The rumors fly, of course, when your peers start to take notice of the way things have changed. No amount of previous hexing scares them away from jumping to their conclusions and spreading their rumors. This time around, you’re all too enamored with each other to care much about what people say, but you do find it pitiful that they could never understand. But some witnesses to the loving little touches and soft remarks between each of you and all of you find that it makes sense now—all of you were destined from the start.

For you have always been drawn to each other. It’s why you constantly gravitated from one to the next, the pull from those you left behind never really going away.

It feels like a dream the way you all settle back into place with each other. James looks at you all in disbelief everyday. He couldn't have imagined a more perfect solution to his previously helpless pining.

You're quite pleased as well, the longing for what you never had with each of your boys finally resolved.

And Lily and Remus share a look some days, eyes twinkling, finding comfort in knowing now what their missing piece was. Or rather, pieces.

“Well, I think I can pinpoint now why all of our relationships kept not working out,” Lily tells him once, in the very beginning. You’re all strolling around outdoors, basking in the sun, still shyly navigating through the newness of it all.

The knuckles of your left hand fondly brush against those on James’ right. Lily walks alongside you, Remus on the end next to her. And Sirius has fallen behind purposefully, admiring the way the four of you look together.

“Why’s that, Dove?” Remus asks.

“Greed,” Sirius interjects, an impish grin dances on his lips as he jogs up to join you all again. He squeezes between you and Lily, slinging his arms around you both.

Sirius nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, “But who’s to say we can’t have it all?”

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turcott3 · 9 months ago

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west side

lando norris x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, alcohol, smut, p in v, creampie, and ofc as per usual!!!!! fluff!!!!!

positions fics masterlist

~i’m gonna make you want more, i’m gonna be your new favorite~

you laid on the couch with a glass of wine, chatting with lando, who you became friends with through your cousin. the two of you had grown somewhat close, however, you always felt a bit of tension when you were together, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. the two of you sat watching youtube downing drinks. you were already past the point of a buzz, you were a bit tipsy. both of you were.

“i feel like i haven’t had sex in so long.”

“lando is the middle of the season, that checks out.” you laugh.

“yeah but like, it kinda sucks.”

“you like to get your dick wet huh?” you laugh.

“yep, no shame in it.” he admits confidently.

“you wanna know something crazy?” you say picking up your glass.

“hit me.”

“a man has never made me finish.”

“really?” he gasps.

“nope, only i’ve been able to accomplish that shit myself.” you say, face slightly pink at the fact that you admitted that to him.

“wow.” he scoffs.

“i wish i knew what it felt like to cum at the hands of someone else.” you continue, digging yourself a deeper hole.

“well i can show you, if you want.” he states taking a sip. you didn’t know why, but suddenly your heart dropped.

“oh uh, i mean you dont have to-“

“maybe i want to? i’m not pity fucking you y/n. you’re gorgeous.” he replies. you couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face at his words. you scooted close to him boldly, taking his face into your hands, connecting your lips lazily. you could taste the alcohol on both of your breaths, becoming more intoxicated by the second. not more drunk, but more horny.

“lay down for me sweetheart.” he states as you pull away. you pull your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. you lay back and he crawls over you, attaching his lips to your neck as your fingers pulled at his curls.

“lando please.” you beg, tugging at the brunette’s curls lightly. he pulls away giggling.

“so anxious.” he teases, helping you pull your pants off before discarding all of his own. you scanned his dark, toned body up and down, observing the way the light hit all of his muscles perfectly. you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. maybe the tension you couldn’t land you mind on, was sexual all along.

“i wanna do this the right way. so before you ask, no, i’m not eating you out. as much as i want to.” he smirks, leaning over you attaching your lips.

“don’t care, just want you in me.” you mumbled as you watched him rub himself hard.

“what’s that pretty girl?” he replies not hearing you.

“lan please, fuck me.” you say just a little louder and he smirks. he sits up positioning himself between your legs, running his hard cock through your folds before pushing himself into your wet pussy.

“god so wet for me huh princess?” he giggles as you attempt to gain your composure. you grip onto his shoulders as your head remained still between his hands that were on either side of you. he thrusted into you deeply, wrapping your legs around his hips. so far everything felt good. with every thrust he stretched you to a new level, his tip brushing the sensitive spot in your core.

“fuck lando.” you moan out.

“yeah you like that huh?” he grunts and all you can do is nod. your nails dug into his shoulders harshly. your moans beginning to be drowned out by the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he picked up his speed. he brought his lips to yours to quiet you down as your moans became yelps.

“shhh baby, you’re gonna wake up the neighbors.” he coos in your ear before replanting his lips onto yours. his kiss had become addicting to you, almost more so than the way his dick was pounding into you. he pulled out of you to roll over and get up on all fours, he plunged back into you easily, fucking you deeper and harder than before. you were a moaning mess, tears welling up in your eyes.

“oh my god.” you say. the familiar feeling of your orgasm was close. closer than you thought. it came out of nowhere.

“you gonna cum for me?” he smirks.

“fuck yes i think i a- oh my god.” you begin, interrupted by an orgasm ripping through your abdomen.

“good girl.” he mutters in your ear, slowing down his thrusts as you began to come down, your legs quivering slightly.

“oh my god, you made me fucking cum.” you giggle as he came to a stop, pulling out of you.

“told you.” he smirks.

“you’re fucking incredible.” you say grabbing onto his face and bringing him in for a deep kiss.

“too bad i didn’t get my turn.” he frowns jokingly.

“now hold on, that would be unfair of me. sit down.” you say and he does as he’s told. you straddle his hips shakily, sinking yourself onto him. you felt yourself get horny all over again. he placed his hands on your hips, assisting you in bouncing up and down on his thick cock. you knew he wasn’t gonna last long at the way he grunted every time you came down. you laid a kiss on his lips, lingering until you felt his cock twitch and spill his climax deep into you. you fucked him until he was dry.

“fucking hell.” he grunts leaning his head back to look at the ceiling.

“fuck this is gonna be messy.” you groan realizing the mess you’d make once you stood up.

“i mean you could just not move.” he suggests, his brain currently replaced by dick.

“very funny.” you reply slapping him lightly on the chest as you pull him out of you, the mixture of your climaxes forming a small puddle around the base of his cock. you dropped to your knees, sucking him clean of the juices, his jaw dropping at the sight.

“better?” you reply wiping your mouth.

“uh huh.” he replies, no words forming.

“uh here’s your clothes, i know you have practice tomorrow i don’t wanna keep you all night.” you reply picking his clothes up off the floor. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him he could leave. you knew you cared about him but you didn’t know his feelings towards you.

shit for all you knew you liked him. after all he was the only man that knew how to make you finish. he was your new favorite.

“is it alright if i stay?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

“oh uh- yes of course. i just wasn’t sure that you’d want to.”

“of course i do, what do you think this is? i didn’t fuck you out of pity, i told you that.” he giggles pulling his boxers back on and laying back on the couch.

“come here pretty girl.” he says opening his arms to you as you pulled your baggy tshirt over your head. you positioned yourself between his legs, laying your head on his chest as he strokes your hair.

“i’m glad you didn’t want to leave.” you mumble.

“what was that?”

“i’m glad you didn’t want to leave.” you state louder, leaning up to look at him. he replies by guiding your lips back to his, his tongue plunging into your mouth with ease.

“so what do we do now?” you reply giggling, pulling away from him.

“you busy tomorrow? i got a paddock pass.” he smiles.

“i’ll clear my schedule.” you blush, laying your head against his chest, dozing off to the sound of his slow heart beat and the feeling of his fingers running delicately through your hair.

“sweet dreams my pretty girl.” he whispers, that being the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #turcs’ talk

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ja3hwa · 1 month ago

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♡ 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

Day Twenty - Priest/Demon Au

【Synopsis】 : There was a demon on the loose. Wreaking havoc in the small village that San was a priest in. And little did Father San know is that the creature was a lot closer than he would think.

『Word count』 : 4.03k

-> Genre: 18+ Supernatural. Angst. Gore. Suggestive.

Pairing: Priest!San x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Blood. Gore. Mentions of assult. Weapons. Demons and angels. Religion. Death. Making out. Sinning. Dirty thoughts. Thick flirtatious tension. Listen, I was deep in my feelings when i wrote this argh.

Note: Thank you to my dearest @skteezcursed for the help in this fic. Our late night brainstorms are always my favourite thing to do, hehe. ♡♡♡

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

San paced around his office, feeling himself grow more and more frustrated as the minutes progressed. He had been in this tiny, god-forsaken town for the past three months, searching far and wide, under every rock and pebble, and still, he was not any closer to finding this wandering demon. His agency had put him undercover as the new priest in the local church since sadly the old one had passed away from sudden circumstances, which San later found to be the said demon’s doing. He had hopes to find the creature and kill it before it hurt anyone else, but sadly, the challenge seemed bigger than he anticipated.

Placing his hands on the large spruce table, he takes in all his notes for the millionth time. The demon had a distinctive pattern, killing only men, twenty-five and over, locally born, ranging from all classes and backgrounds. But what did they all have in common? Why did the creature choose these men in particular? What was the trigger? San felt like he was about to rip his hair out if he couldn’t figure it out by the end of the fourth month. He slammed his hand down onto the table in a fit of rage. Feeling the heat shift into his spine at the thought, the demon could be anyone. That he had passed by it without knowing. It could stand right in front of him, and he had already probably missed it.

“Father…” Your sweet velvet tone snapped him from his thoughts. You were tightly holding onto your bible with one hand against your chest, prayer beads lacing through your fingers while your other hand held the large door open. Your expression was filled with innocence and worry. “I heard noises. I… Are you okay?”

His heart skips at you, the sweet church girl, his face tainting a dusty pink ever so slightly. “Uh.. Yes. I'm just…working.” He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. He wouldn't admit it, but through these past months, he had fallen quite infatuated with you. Your smile began an addiction he sought out every day.

Every early morning, you came into the church alone to pray before skipping to his office to ask if he needed any help. You were so kind and caring in welcoming him into the community. Making sure he had everything he could ever need shortly after he arrived. You were the only good thing to seemingly come out of this dull, mopey town.

Looking at you cautiously step into the room, your eyes wandering to the decoration on the shelf that you had no doubt memorised already, an idea came flooding into his head. You were locally born, as far as he was aware. And you know of everyone, so maybe he needed to gather some intel from an inside source and who then, you, the sweet sunshine that cascaded over the grey hills of this village. “Actually… I would like to ask you a question.”

You stopped in your tracks to glance over at the man, showing no sign of any emotion. You were still, pondering even. Your eyes wide and curious but your lips held in a thin firm line. “Ask away, father.”

He almost lost the question from his shuttered tongue as he watched your mouth creep up into a loving smile. But alas, he cleared his throat, quickly looking down to graze over his notes. “I must confess something…”

Your body tingled in inquisitiveness, taking a step closer. “Yes…” you bit your lip slightly, fiddling with the beads in your tight grasp.

“I am not just a priest. I am a hunter of sorts.” He lifted up a piece of paper for you to take in your free hand, letting you look it over. The paper was old, aged marking the edges and face. It was information about demonology. Words that seemed to pop out the most on the page were ‘dangerous’, ‘demon’, ‘sinful’. This thing... This demonic creature was in your home, killing the men of your village. One by one.

“...So it’s true. There is devil work lurking in the town.” You gulped your hands, shaking slightly, handing the piece of parchment back to San. “Is anyone else aware of this?”

“No. You are the first and only person I’ll tell. This town doesn’t need to start going on witch hunts to try and find the creatures themselves.” San pinched his nose, just imagining it gave him a headache. He let out a sigh, picking up a few more sheets to place in front of you, "This is all I know. I was sent here to capture and eradicate the beast that has been luring men into the outwest woods. But for the life of me, I can't find the connection to all of the victims other than them being male."

You looked over all the names, reading each autopsy report carefully. Your mind to a thought, no, it couldn't be.. could it? Looking up at San, you gulped. "Umm, F-father."

"Please just call me San." He grunted, tugging on his white band around his neck, feeling himself grow hot being frustrated and also being near you.

"I think I know the connection..." You picked up another piece of paper scanning while San stared at you intensely, waiting for you to proceed. "The first five victims. They had been accused of misconduct prior to their deaths."

You pointed to one of the names showing San, "For example, John Hart, he was reported for beating his wife." You pointed to another name further down the list, "Edward Smith's wife called assault on his husband, saying he raped his daughter, but there wasn't any evidence."

You turned the paper back to yourself, raking your hand through your hair, "All of these men have either beaten, assaulted, and raped women or have been accused of it."

San slumped down on his seat in defeat. A conflict shadowing in his view. All these men were pigs. That was the connection. "Great, so I have a demon playing god and smiting men for misdeeds...perfect." he placed his palm on his face, groaning in annoyance.

"What are you going to do now, fath—I mean San?" You took a seat on one of the chairs opposite the deck, resting your bible down on your lap as you sat up straight.

San clicked his tongue, glancing at you for a moment. He wasn't going to lie to himself. The way you said his name was music to his ears. A tone he would never get tired of. But he shook his thoughts to look at the papers littering his desk. "We're gonna catch a demon.”

Following the next few days, every evening you and San would meet up to discuss the case while also slowly gathering materials for the trap. You had told San any more information you’ve heard or if you heard of any more allegations about any of the town's men. Luckily no one had spread any new rumours about anyone which was good, leaving you both to focus on the task at hand. Capturing and then eradicating the demon. One particularly cold evening, you and San had spent a little bit too long searching through town books, not taking any notice of the sun lying to rest. It was only when you started to feel the chill on your exposed arms that you gazed out the window, seeing nothing but pitch night.

“When did it become so late?” Your voice barely above a whisper. San, who was only a few feet beside you, looked up from the book in his lap, suddenly feeling the coldness creep down his spine.

"We should call it a night." San slammed the book a little too harshly, making you jump. He caught your reaction but decided it was best to bite his tongue. Instead, he stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, "I'll walk you out."

You took his hand gently, your soft skin making him gulp. The touch of you was electrifying, like a thousand little fireworks going off at once in his chest. His fingers wrapped tightly around yours, tugging you up off the library floor, but his tug was a little bit forceful, causing you to be pulled flushed against his chest. Your free hand coming up to brace yourself on his chest. "F-father."

"I told you to call me San. Please. I'm just San." He whispered his breath, pooling against your cheek. He watched the blush taint your cute features, your eyes widening as he inched closer. You smelt firewood, vanilla, and a beautiful mixture of floral scents. You were intoxicating.

"San...We are still in the church." You murmured, eyes slowly fluttering as you let him creep closer until his lips were a brush away. Your hand that landed on his chest lowered, feeling his strong muscles underneath his robes.

"I know..." He grunted through his nose. He snaked his hand from your wrist to your upper arm before taking place on the back of your neck while his other found place on your hip. "We aren't doing anything sinful."

"Hmm, but your thoughts would say otherwise." You smiled.

"You have no idea what I'm thinking about." He chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

"I could take a guess.” You closed your eyes, sealing your lips on his, feeling an overwhelment of sparks crackling down your spine. San grunted through his nose as the kiss became rougher. His fingers tangled into strands of hair on the nape of our neck, while he swallowed every whimper and moan from you. It was like you were a deliciously wicked sweet treat.

Forbidden fruit he was not allowed to taste.

He couldn’t explain it but it was like you were the only thing that mattered the minute he met you. Like you were the puzzle piece he had been missing “S-san” You tried to pull away from him but his grip was firm on you, “We are going to…” You felt his tongue against your mouth, “Get..c-caught.” You couldn’t help but smile beneath the desperate kiss.

He finally pulled away, groaning in disappointment. “I know…” He sighed letting his grip loosen. Your hands snaked up his body gently before you pulled away entirely.

“Walk me out?” You suggested what he had asked moments prior. San couldn’t help but feel himself grow in his slacks as he gazed upon your swollen lips and dishevelled hair. You were stunning in every possible way. He walked with you to the front of the church, his hand grazing your own every time your arms swung a little too close to one another. San felt like a schoolboy all over again, walking next to the girl he had a crush on.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” San smiled bittersweetly, turning to face you completely. You faced him also, shyly looking up at him with your cheeks tainted red.

"Tomorrow, San." You gave him a soft smile. Your fingers tangle with themselves as you patiently wait for him to say goodbye first.

"Well, sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow..." The way your name fell from his lips made your heart thump as you nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek gently. He swore he felt a tingle dance from where you place your lips on his cheek. Walking off into the village towards your home, san never took his eyes off you until you were out of sight.

"Lord..." He sighed, feeling himself breathing properly for the first time all day. He felt a twinge in his body at the loss of your scent, but alas, he had work to do if he wanted to catch this creature. But a part of him began to second guess himself. Yes, demons are bad, killing anything they want. But this demon. It had a reason. And a stupidly good one for that matter.

It annoyed him at the confliction. All demons are bad. Right? They lust for blood and chaos. Nothing more, nothing less. As he stepped back into the large church entrance, his mind spun from all the thoughts. Something was wrong with this whole thing. Something he had missed, maybe? Pinching his nose, he felt lightheaded. His fingers danced around his nostrils, suddenly gasping. "Blood?"

Looking up to the aisle in the middle of the church, he saw the moon start to pool into the room through the round window by the altar. And then, as he took another step, his mind snapped. His eyes clouded over with black, and he fell towards the floor.

He was out like a light.

When San awoke, he could feel the stiffness in his neck. He must have been out a while. Groaning, he held his head as he slowly sat up. But what caught him off guard was he wasn't sitting where he fell. He had moved? Looking around his fuzzy eyes, he noticed he was right on the altar, leaning against the lectern.

Looking around, he tries to get his bearings. Noticing the moon has reached its peak, shining through the top window, indicating it was almost midnight. He had been passed out for almost two or three hours give or take. But what caught his attention was the overwhelming smell of iron. He touched the top of his lip, feeling the blood from his nose had dried. But this blood smelt fresh like it was right behind him...

In horror, he turned his head to see the gruesome sight that anchored his mind in dread—a lifeless man strung up on the cross behind him, the body pallid and still. A choked gasp escaped him, slamming his hand over his mouth as the image in front of him flooded his conscience. He went to move, but that was when he noticed his legs were bound. He struggled against him, confusion spiralling into terror. What was going on?

Just then, the church doors creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside. It was you, but the tender girl he had come to love now had an aura that chilled him to the bone. Her once bright eyes were shadowed, and your skin was tainted in a light shade of pink. "San!!"

You ran over to him. This is when he could finally see you properly in the moonlight. Little horns poked from the top of your head. "San. I thought... You're okay." You sighed, your voice sounding different. It was smoother, seductive almost, lacing with an otherworldly quality.

"What is this? What’s happened?” he stammered, heart pounding painfully in his chest. You were a demon. A lust demon to be exact. He'd never met a succubus in real life before, but he knew what they looked like through details in his demonology.

"I don't know. I got a letter saying you were hurt and needed my help." Your voice cracked as you reached for his bonds, but when your skin touched them, it stung, burning your skin. They were cursed? "W-who did this?"

"I could ask you that." San's bitterness caught you off guard.

"W-what do..." You looked down and saw your hands were shaded in pink, and in a flash, you ran for the silverware on the table seeing your distorted reflection. "Y-you can see me..."

"Yes.." San replied coldly and conflicted. How could you, of all people be a creature of the damned.

"San, listen, please. I'm not the demon you've been trying to catch, I swear." You kneeled back down to him, but he shuffled away, making your heart flinch. "I've watched you since the moment you came into this town. Your love, your promises, and your weakness. You want to save things. Not kill them. You are caring. That is how I fell in love with you.”

"Love? Demons can not do such things." San's voice felt like venom on your skin, making tears pool in your eyes.

"They...I can. I did. You changed that for me."

“No, I—I thought you were human,” he gasped, memories of laughter and warmth filling his mind, only to be replaced by dread. He missed so many signs. From the smell of you to the way you had with words. You were using him.

"San, I wasn't, I swear to you. I might be a monster, but I've never hurt anyone." You interrupted his thoughts, shuffling closer, your presence both magnetic and terrifying to San. "Please, San, you have to believe me."

San wrestled with his emotions as the reality of your true nature engulfed him. Were the demon he had been searching for, cleverly disguised and lurking in the heart of the town, feeding on the very compassion and affection he thought in no way could lead to sin? Or were you telling the truth? Were you just an innocent creature caught in the crossfire?

Looking at you, he can see the swirls of pink and crimson mixing with your human eye colour. The sweetness he fell for was still there. "I believe you."

You jumped into his arms, tears spilling down your hit cheeks as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

As the church pulsed with an otherworldly energy, San realised he had known he made a daring choice—not to fight or falter but to embrace the truth of who he was, who you were. Life wasn't all black and white. There were beautiful shades of grey that he never took the moment to gaze at before. He took a deep breath, taking in your sweet familiar scent before pulling you up by your chin to stare into the eyes of the creature he thought he had fallen in love with.

"I was wrong about you. I'm sorry." He declared, a newfound resolve gripping his heart as he smiled at you. But before you could say anything, a new voice. A deeper one echoed in the cold eerie church.

“No, Father. You are wrong. But not for what you think.” The man's voice was a cruel tone, dark and chilling. Both of you snapped your gaze to him, seeing he was not alone. Two other men were trailing close behind him. "And here I thought you wouldn't succumb to her charms..." His face was finally revealed in the light. "My best hunter."

"Winlock?" San's voice was laced with confusion. His mentor? "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, San. For an expert hunter, you never really got the wit down, did you?" The man chuckled, making the other two follow suit like some perfect chimed robots. Winlocks gaze glances at the hanging corpse, still hammered into the cross. He couldn't help but click his tongue.

"You know it almost pained me to kill these men. But desperate times called for desperate measures." The older man cracked his knuckles as he paced slightly. You shuffled closer to San, cuddling desperately next to him. For the first time in all your life, you felt fear.

With all San's strength, he pushed against the ropes, his spirit igniting in defiance. In this moment of battle between light and dark, he defied the very nature of the demon that he loves and found the depths of the confrontation. He felt a flicker of the love he had for you, now intertwined with anger and betrayal from his mentor, another he had loved in a way. Whatever you were, he no longer cared. No, all he wanted was you safe. Little did you know, you could hear San's thoughts loud and clear, pooling into your brain like a tidal.

"We've been looking for her for years. Laying traps, but no matter what we did, she wouldn't take the bait. That was until we found out she wasn't like other demons..."

Without dropping your eyes from the man, you placed your hand just over the bounds on San. You began to focus on the ropes, whispering an incantation in your head over and over.

"She's also a witch." Winlock snarked, snapping his fingers. One of the men quickly made his way over to you while the other seemingly grabbed out a book from the satchel that hung over his shoulder.

"S-san. SAN!!" The man grabbed you by the horns, yanking you backwards before dragging you towards Winlock. You cried out, trashing against his hold. San went to stand, but the bounds were still tight, and no matter how many times he tried to grab the rope, it burnt him.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" San barked.

"Awe, San. You really are a stupid little boy." Winlock grabbed the book from his henchman, flicking through the pages with a cynical smile. "Out of everything you could have done. Falling for a beast was not what I thought you'd do."

"She's not a beast!!" San could feel a tear break in his eyes as he watched you weep in pain as the grip on your sensitive horns tightened. Your claws scratch at the man's hands, but he doesn't move as if he wasn't affected by his flesh being ripped by your sharp nails.

"Well, this was all fun and all. But I think we should call it a night. I gotta thank you, though, San. Without you, we would have never caught her." Winlock began reading a page from the book aloud, the enchantment caught your attention, making you do as much as you possibly could to look over at San.

Covered in blood, tears staining his sharp features. Your heart broke as you hiccuped, "I'm sorry, San. I...I love you." It might have been too early to say it, but you didn't know when you'd ever be able to say it again.

"No no no no. Please. I love you." He grabbed his bounds, his hand sizzling against the cursed rope, "Winlock, don't do this. She's not a monster... you can't."

Winlock did stop his incantation as the floor began to shake, and the night started to stir. That's when the man behind Winlock stepped forward with a thick leather band in his hand. The man that held you tilted your head to the side, giving access for the man to click the collar in place. That was when San knew what Winlock was doing to you. He was bounding you.

"I'll find you..." Your name rang in the air as San cried, "I'll find you and break you free."

It was your turn to cry, hearing his thoughts. There was no doubt in his mind, nothing but determination and honesty in his words. "I'll wait for you."

The sound of the book being slammed closed reverberated against the walls. Yours and Sans's eyes snapped back to Winlock seeing him pull out a gun, "You should have said that San." His voice was cold, with his eyes empty.

Silence fell as the fire from the gunshot rang in your ears. Blood spilled out of San’s mouth as he choked it all over the altar. You screamed, a noise so loud it would shatter the hearts in a mile radius. The floor beneath you shook, cracking before opening. The last thing you could see before the floor swallowed you whole was your lover, dying on the doorstep of the religion he so desperately trusted.

San laid on his back, the wound in his chest spluttering the crimson liquid into the carpet. He could see the moon above him. Feeling the light raze on his skin. His eyes closed for a moment, taking in the tingling feeling. There was no more pain. Sadness washed away with every drop of blood that fell onto the stairs, and then he whispered out a stutter before taking his last breath.

"Forgive me, lord... I have sinned.”

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harryssyndrome · 6 days ago

Text

Kiwi baby! | h.s 🥝

Summery: Harry’s wife surprises him during Kiwi with the best news ever.

Word count: 3.2k || Masterlist 🍉🍓❤️

The gif and the ai image are both mine! Don’t you dare steal it! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE EITHER OF THEM OR STEAL MY WORK!!!

On a kind note, I hope you enjoy reading!!! I love this one-shot sm <333 I couldn’t wait to write it the whole night ever since I got the idea. This is probably my most favorite piece of work ever. I guess I’ll make this a part of ‘Our Little World: Documentary series’. REQUEST ARE OPEN! 🌊

Posted on: November 24th, 2024. (IST)

Tag-list: @angeldavis777 @fruity-harry || TAGLIST OPEN 💌

The evening sky above the stadium was painted in deep shades of purple, and the crowd beneath it surged with energy, every soul gathered to see him perform. Harry Styles was in his element, bathed in bright lights, his smile as wide as the stage itself, his voice carrying through the open air. The music was loud, vibrant, and electric—Kiwi blasting through the speakers as Harry moved across the stage, every step laced with the confidence and excitement that only live performances could stir.

His outfit tonight was nothing short of breathtaking—a red and black Gucci harlequin-patterned suit that shimmered under the lights, accentuating his every movement. The slickness of his hair, now a little longer than usual, fell just enough to brush his forehead as he swung his body to the rhythm of the song. Fans were ecstatic, their voices harmonizing with his in perfect unity, shouting the words to Kiwi as if their very existence depended on it.

The crowd threw water at him, a playful and typical reaction to the intense heat of the show. Harry, ever the entertainer, caught one of the bottles and used it to douse them back with a mischievous grin. The energy was alive in a way only concerts could make him feel. He laughed along with his fans, feeling that familiar thrill that had kept him addicted to this life—the adoration of strangers, the pulse of the music, and the sheer joy of performing.

But amidst the buzz of lights, the sweat dripping from his skin, and the joy in the air, there was a quiet thought that kept tugging at him. YN. His wife. She wasn’t in the VIP stand like usual. He could always rely on her to be there, her smile always radiating at him from the crowd, her presence a constant comfort. But tonight, the spot where she always stood was empty. The concern he tried to shake off kept creeping into his mind, distracting him in the back of his head, even as his heart continued to race with excitement from the show.

He couldn’t help but glance over to the section where she usually sat, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, knowing it would soothe the small, gnawing worry he felt. But the space remained empty.

His foot tapped the beat of the song beneath him, trying to focus on the crowd once more. He tossed the water bottle at the fans, his fingers brushing the cold plastic. The adrenaline kept him high, kept him in the moment, but his gaze drifted again.

Where was she?

YN had been a little quieter than usual in the past few days. He hadn’t pushed for any answers, but now he found himself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe she was feeling unwell. Maybe she just wanted to have a quiet night in. Still, the thought of not seeing her there tonight gnawed at him.

His voice still rang out with the words of the song, but his mind was divided between the stage and the empty stand. He kept looking—one eye on the crowd, the other scanning for her. And just as his next verse was coming up, he saw it.

There she was.

Right in the front row—so close to the barricade, she was almost on the stage.

His breath caught in his throat.

She wasn’t in the VIP section. No, she was right there. In the heart of the crowd. The waves of people parted like the Red Sea for her, and there she stood—holding a sign. Her figure illuminated by the stage lights, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, a look of pure joy and love in her eyes.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the music, the fans, the lights—all of it was distant. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her. The sign she held was simple, but to him, it was everything.

“I’m having your baby” it read, scrawled across a bright poster board in bold, handwritten letters.

He froze. His heart nearly stopped.

She’s pregnant.

He blinked, thinking he must be imagining it, but no—she was smiling at him now, holding up the sign for him to see, her eyes locked on his. There was no mistaking it. YN—his wife—was carrying their baby.

Harry’s pulse raced as the flood of emotions hit him. His heart thudded against his chest like it wanted to burst free. The happiness, the disbelief, the excitement—it all rushed through him like a tidal wave, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath his feet.

He had wanted this. He had dreamed of this. Of being a father. Of having a child with YN. They had talked about it before, casually, in quiet moments after dinner, while walking through the park, in bed at night. But it had never been a “right now” kind of conversation. They had agreed that when it happened, it happened. And now… it had happened.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his throat tightened. The emotions, overwhelming and beautiful, blurred his vision, but all he could do was stand there on the stage, dumbstruck by the sight of his wife, her belly now holding the future they had always dreamed of.

In a rush of pure joy, Harry stumbled forward, intent on reaching her, to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her. But as he took a step toward her, he didn’t see the puddle of water gathering at the edge of the stage, a result of the fans tossing their bottles earlier.

And then, it happened.

His foot slipped.

There was a split second of disbelief before Harry lost his footing completely, crashing down to the stage in an ungraceful heap. The crowd gasped collectively, their moment of joy paused in shock. But Harry, ever the professional, couldn’t help but laugh at himself. His laughter echoed through the microphone as he quickly scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, still chuckling as he shook off the fall. The fans laughed along with him, the tension breaking as they cheered even louder, impressed by his quick recovery. Harry took a deep breath, regaining his balance and composure. He grabbed the microphone again, still laughing, and gave the crowd a playful wink.

“You okay, Harry?” someone from the crew called out, teasing him from the side.

“Yeah, I’m good! Just a little slippery, that’s all!” Harry replied, still grinning.

His gaze immediately returned to YN. She was still standing at the barricade, her sign still held high, her face alight with joy, her smile as radiant as the sun. It was in that moment that Harry realized he couldn’t wait any longer. The song was still playing behind him, the familiar rhythm pulsing through his body, but he couldn’t focus on the lyrics anymore. Not with the overwhelming emotions flooding his heart.

He took a step forward, slowly walking toward the edge of the stage, his eyes still locked on YN, who was holding his gaze with the same intensity. With each step, his heart pounded harder in his chest.

And before he even knew it, his knees buckled beneath him, and Harry collapsed to the stage once more, but this time, it was with pure emotion.

He covered his face with his hands, unable to contain the tears that had begun to fall freely down his cheeks. After a few moments, Harry wiped his eyes, clearing the tears away as he stood up once more. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke into the mic, his words trembling with happiness:

“My wife is having my baby!” he shouted, his voice trembling. “It’s all my business!”

The crowd erupted in pure, ecstatic noise, the roar of the fans filling the stadium as Harry remained on his knees, the overwhelming weight of the moment too much to bear. His chest was heaving, his body shaking as the reality of the news consumed him.

“Is that real?” a fan shouted.

“Yes, it’s real!” Harry replied, laughing through his tears. “I’m going to be a dad! A dad!” He repeated the words as if he needed to hear them again, the joy overwhelming every part of him.

The fans roared in approval, the noise a chaotic symphony of celebration. But Harry didn’t care about any of that now. He didn’t care about the performance or the crowd or the cameras recording every moment. All he could think about was YN.

His mind was consumed by thoughts of the future—the life they would build together, the family they would raise. He quickly stood to his feet, wiping his eyes, and glanced once more at YN.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Harry dropped the mic to the stage and sprinted toward the barricade, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Harry could feel the heat of the stage lights burning against his skin, but they didn’t matter. The noise of the crowd was deafening, but it was like a distant hum. His heart was the loudest thing he could hear, thrumming in his chest, pumping through his veins with an almost frantic rhythm. His legs carried him toward YN like they had a mind of their own. He was driven by a force he couldn’t describe, propelled by the overwhelming joy of the moment.

Fans parted for him as he made his way to the front of the stage, their cheers rising to a fever pitch as they realized what was happening. Harry didn’t hear their excitement—he only heard the steady beat of his heart, louder now than the music, than anything else in the world.

YN. His wife. The love of his life. The mother of his child.

As he approached the barricades, YN’s smile never wavered. She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes shining with excitement, her hand placed lovingly over her flat belly. As soon as Harry reached her, he lifted her into his arms, spinning her around in a joyous embrace, laughing like a child. The crowd cheered even louder, their love for Harry and YN growing with every passing second.

She had always known that he wanted this more than anything. They both had. But now it was real. She was carrying their baby, and everything about their lives was about to change.

“YNN…” Harry’s voice caught in his throat as he reached her. He placed her back on the ground, eyes never leaving hers. She was glowing—absolutely radiant in the soft light of the stage, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as his arms reached out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The crowd cheered louder, but Harry only had eyes for YN, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his.

“I love you,” Harry whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

YN pulled back slightly to look at him, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart under her fingers. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her smile wide and full of joy, matching his own. “I know. I can’t believe it either,” she whispered, voice trembling just slightly. “I wanted to tell you in the cutest way possible, but you’ve already made it the most unforgettable moment of my life.”

Harry’s breath caught again, a lump forming in his throat as he looked down at her belly, still so small but already holding the life they had created together. His hands rested gently on her sides as he crouched down slightly, his eyes never leaving her. He placed his lips softly on her stomach, his kiss a promise—a vow. The fans around them cheered again, but this time, it was just background noise to Harry.

“I’m going to be the best dad for you,” Harry muttered against her belly, his voice filled with awe. “I promise.”

YN’s fingers threaded through his hair as she smiled down at him, her heart swelling with love. “I know you will be. I’ve always known,” she whispered, her voice full of faith and affection.

“You’re going to be the best dad our baby could ever ask for.”

As Harry pulled back from the kiss, he stood to his full height and stared at YN, his hands still resting on her waist, his expression filled with wonder. His lips curled into a grin, and he couldn’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before meeting her eyes once more.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion, as if the words didn’t fully make sense to him yet. But the more he said them, the more real it became. “You and me. We’re going to have a little baby.”

YN’s eyes sparkled, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks. She looked at him with a mix of love, gratitude, and joy. She reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing gently against the stubble on his jaw. “It’s happening, Harry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s happening.”

Harry smiled wider, and without thinking, he reached down, cupping her face with both hands. He kissed her then—slow, gentle, tender—a kiss that held all of his joy, his love, his gratitude, his hope for their future. This was more than a kiss; it was a promise, a symbol of everything they were about to become. Harry pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against hers as they both tried to catch their breath.

“I can’t wait,” Harry murmured, his lips still grazing hers as he spoke. “I can’t wait to hold our baby. To be there for you. For everything.”

The love in his voice was enough to make YN’s heart swell to bursting. He kissed her again, softer this time, and then looked back at the crowd.

Harry wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around again as he laughed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

YN laughed, her fingers threading through his damp curls. “I love you too. Always.”

Harry set her down gently, his hands never leaving her as he looked into her eyes. “You’re my everything, YNN. You and this baby—you’re everything.”

Tears slid down YN’s cheeks, and she nodded, her heart full. “And you’re ours.”

Harry dropped to his knees once more, pressing his lips to her stomach in a gesture so tender it made YN’s breath catch.

“Thank you for making my life so much beautiful,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ll love this baby with everything I’ve got. And I’ll love you even more.”

YN’s hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers squeezing gently. “You already are, Harry.”

The evening continued around them, but for Harry and YN, time seemed to slow. The music had become a distant hum, the chatter of the fans a soft murmur in the background. All that mattered was each other.

As they stood at the barricades, Harry reached up to take YN’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss to her lips, soft and slow, as if savoring every moment, every sensation. His heart felt full to bursting. He had everything he had ever wanted—YN, their love, and now, the promise of their baby.

He felt as if his entire life had led up to this point—this single, beautiful moment. The rush of emotions from earlier hadn’t yet subsided, but now there was a calmness in him, a peace. He smiled as he looked down at YN’s hand in his, then back into her eyes.

“I know we’ve been through so much already,” Harry said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “But I feel like the best part of our journey is just beginning.”

YN nodded, her smile soft and full of love. “I feel the same way.”

Harry squeezed her hand once more, then stepped back slightly, turning his attention back to the crowd. “I’m going to be a dad,” he said out loud, his voice full of awe and happiness. He turned to face the audience, the microphone still lying on the stage. “Everyone, this is the best moment of my life,” he said, his voice carrying the emotion of the words. “My wife, YN, is having my baby.”

The moment was surreal. The fans were still screaming, the cameras still rolling, but none of it mattered. For Harry, nothing would ever top this moment. It wasn’t just another performance or another stage—it was the night his greatest dream began to come true.

As they stood there together, the crowd began to chant, “Baby Styles! Baby Styles!”

Harry threw his head back in laughter, turning to wave at the audience. “You lot are mad!” he called out, but his face said it all—he was over the moon.

The crowd continued on cheering wildly, but Harry’s focus was on the woman in front of him. She was glowing, every inch of her radiating love and joy, and he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive.

He leaned in to kiss her once more, this time a gentle, loving kiss on her lips. He felt everything he had ever hoped for in that kiss—his future, his family, and the love of his life, all wrapped up in one perfect moment.

As the kiss ended, he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too,” YN whispered back.

They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them continuing on, but nothing mattered now but each other, and the new life they were about to bring into the world. Together.

The fans’ cheers faded into the background as Harry held YN’s hand tightly, the two of them standing side by side, facing the future with all the love and hope that their hearts could hold.

Harry stood up and kissed her again, his heart still racing, his mind still in a daze, but in the best way possible. His dream of being a dad was coming true, and no matter what came next, he knew he had everything he ever needed right here, in this moment. He knew one thing for sure: their love was only just beginning

And with that, Harry Styles was no longer just a rock star on stage—he was going to be a dad, and that was the greatest role he’d ever play.

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tryingtofindava · 7 months ago

Note

some of the creeps with a cannibalistic reader? :> if thats okayy

── 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫*ೃ༄

(Includes: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Nina the Killer.)

: ̗̀➛Back to source

>>Part 2

╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

He doesn’t hide the fact AT ALL that he thinks it’s absolutely gross.

And he’ll always make that clear to you.

Onetime you were in the woods after offing some poor camper, eating away at their flesh. And Jeff came by because he was on his way back to his hiding spot from the world.

He watches and mocks you the whole time, because he’s an asshole.

“Y/n, that’s fucking disgusting.” (he scoffs while being covered in like 7 different peoples blood…)

Anyways lolz he doesn’t support you :3

╰┈➤ 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤

Whether you’re a cannibal by choice or forced to be (like him) he feels a weird connection to you in that way.

I’d be a liar if I said you two didn’t bond over the fact that you both have the taste for human flesh. (Which is like, a BIG deal for Jack since he isn’t the most social Creep out there.)

He may even share his little human organs with you, and it may as well become your guys usual hang out plan.

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲

I’m actually sure he was supposed to be cannibal but was changed later on by Kastoway since it was too similar to EJ’s story and stuff. So it was set that he only ate some parts of his victims on rare occasions.

I’m also pretty sure it’s canon that the way he got the gash on his cheek is because he literally gnawed it off because his gloves prevented him from eating away at the skin on his fingers.

So yeah… he’s probably un phased by your desire to eat people. (Not that he’d give a shit in the first place, he’d probably just tease you sometimes about it)

Maybe even on his mini missions he’d take some human parts from his victims for you to scran on.

╰┈➤ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞

Again, another two who find it repulsing-ish.

BUT!!

They don’t make it as obvious as Jeffrey does about finding it icky, though you can still sense their vibe being off ‘cause of your strange addiction.

Sometimes when you eat in the woods they may come across you and watch, though you can’t see their faces from their masks you know that they are silently judging you.

If I’m being completely honest, they’re both more curious about it than anything. They’ll both get over it eventually.

╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

She’s completely cool and chill about it!!

She canonically dated EJ, so she kinda had to be fine w it lolz.

Her love language is gift giving, and acts of service, so like Toby she definitely brings you humans to munch on.

You want them raw? Okay!! You want ‘em fried? She’s getting the pan out now!

She loves getting her hands dirty for you, and feels no regret what so ever when she ends an innocent person to bring you your dinner!! :)

Half of this was me babbling lolz

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years ago

Text

𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict

You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.

“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”

You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.

It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.

“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”

“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”

“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.

“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”

He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.

“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.

“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.

“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."

He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."

"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"

"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.

"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"

That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"

"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"

Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"

"I dunno," he muttered.

"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"

He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.

"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."

"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."

He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.

A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.

Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.

"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.

"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.

But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?

Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.

He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—

Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to lean forward.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."

Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.

You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.

It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.

Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…

You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.

Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"

You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.

"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.

You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.

It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.

For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.

"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"

It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.

He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."

Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.

That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.

That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.

You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.

He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.

When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.

"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"

When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.

You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.

After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.

He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.

"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."

He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"

He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.

"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.

With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.

"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"

Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.

"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"

You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."

You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.

"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"

You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.

"No? You're a good girl?"

You nodded, moaning around him.

"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"

You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.

"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"

"No," you answered.

"No sir," he corrected.

"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.

"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"

You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.

"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."

You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.

"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"

As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…

"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.

It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.

"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.

"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."

With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"

He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"

He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.

"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.

He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.

"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."

You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…

"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.

"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.

"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"

"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"

He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."

"Who feels good?"

"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.

"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"

Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"

"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.

"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.

"Yes!"

"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."

He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck. The way you gasped in anticipation, your walls restricting around him excitedly, gave you away completely.

"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.

He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.

"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."

He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.

Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?

"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.

"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.

"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.

When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.

"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.

"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"

He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.

"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.

"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."

Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"

He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.

"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.

You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.

"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"

He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.

"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."

Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.

"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"

"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.

"Do you want me to?"

After hesitating, you shook your head.

"No?" he pressed.

"No," you admitted in a pout.

"Ask me not to," he ordered.

"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.

"What's that? You don't want it?"

"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.

"So I can't?"

You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."

You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.

"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."

"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.

"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."

"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"

He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?

'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.

"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.

At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.

"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.

"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."

"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"

"Come, whore."

He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.

His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.

"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."

When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"

"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.

"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"

His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.

You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."

"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"

He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.

"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"

You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"

He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."

You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.

"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"

You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.

"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"

Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.

"Yeah, that's what I thought…"

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller smut #joel miller hbo x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #tlou hbo fic

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