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tojicide · 1 month ago

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⠀ REMIND ME! ☆ SYLUS QIN.

summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.

warnings. fem!reader. nsfw, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral sex (female receiving) because sylus is a munch, doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare

wc. 6.1k

note. … so, this is my first time writing on this platform. i do not stand by anyone’s depicted behavior but… what can i say? I love an unconventional concept. ^.^ see you at the bottom!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.

He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.

The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.

Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.

If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.

He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because it truly was a blessing and a curse.

For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once gotten to your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.

Surprise is etched across your face as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open even further. “What the fu—”

“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.

“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.

Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. He hated the look you were giving him, the one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like one).

“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”

“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”

You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.

“He isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.

Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.

And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.

You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, his eyes scanning your bedroom.

A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding.

Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.

“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.

He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”

You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.

A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.

“I see you went shopping,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”

“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”

Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.

“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.

“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.

Your eyes flit away at that. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.

“I am what your heart truly desires,” he lowly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”

Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.

In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone now. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”

He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.

“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you huff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.

“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.

“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”

Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.

“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”

“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”

That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.

It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.

Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering on your hand. “So, so beautiful.”

Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.

Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.

“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.

Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.

He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”

“I know you, baby. That’s how.”

A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms over his broad chest, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”

His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.

“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.

Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that.

He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.

“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”

Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.

Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.

“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”

You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.

You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.

Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.

Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.

You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.

“No response for me?” he asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.

You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, and Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, and the sight of the pink fabric clothing your pussy is enough to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.

“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”

If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)

“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his glowing red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”

Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.

“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”

He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”

“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.

“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”

You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.

It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.

Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.

“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”

You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.

(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)

Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.

(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)

His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot of fabric.

Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the fabric down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.

He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.

“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.

You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.

A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.

Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”

You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.

“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”

“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”

Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.

“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”

As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.

“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”

When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.

Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.

(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)

One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”

Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.

Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.

Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.

“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”

You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyes beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.

Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.

That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”

Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.

“Such a needy little thing,” he purrs, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby.”

You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.

“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re gonna have to prove it, baby.”

Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.

“How?” you ask.

He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.

“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the fabric decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.

“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.

You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.

It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.

“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his cock, and your phone.

He snickers, and he flips you onto your stomach, his hands grasping onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”

“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.

Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.

“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just wanna show him how beneath it you are.”

Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.

“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.

On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”

“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”

Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.

“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.

He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.

“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”

“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”

“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.

You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.

“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.

“Mm, gotta go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.

“Sylus!” you scold.

He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”

You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.

Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”

Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”

You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.

He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.

“Sweetie?” he breathes out.

You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”

Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”

Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.

He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”

Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.

He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.

“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.

He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”

You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.

“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.

Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.

As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”

He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.

A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.

“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”

He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”

Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.

You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you into his arms without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.

Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers through her hair just as he used to.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.

“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.

As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.

You know it’s crazy to think about.

After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.

note: thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

#love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #sylus #lads sylus #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #sylus smut #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #lads #love & deepspace

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finelinefae · 1 month ago

Text

safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe.

. . .

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother.

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm.

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said.

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage.

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear.

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.”

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.”

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot.

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer.

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house.

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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multi-fandom-imagine · 10 months ago

Text

[ underside ] sender leans in and places a suggestive kiss just under receiver's jawline.

A/n: Lucifer is so cute, he need's some love

It's been a long time since he's experienced love like this. Lucifer could barely wrap his mind around it, around the fact that you would ever want someone like him.

You clipped your wings for him, something Lucifer would ever be grateful for because of you he got a second chance at love. Letting his eye's slip closed, he felt like he was living in bliss as he laid in bed with you.

Stirring awake, you peered up at the fallen angel. He must have fallen asleep. His arm's wrapped possessively around your hips, his chest rising and falling as you watched him. Nibbling your lip, you shifted your body so you could get a better look at him.

"So cute."

Lean in, you let your lips press against the nap of his neck. Your teeth grazing the skin as you pressed your body into his side. You couldn't help but feel some satisfaction rush through your body hearing a whimper escape his lips. One of his eyes cracking open.

A small giggle escaped your lips seeing him blush, shifting your body so you were now practically laying on him.

"I thought you wanted to sleep." Lucifer adverted his gaze from you, his hand slowly gliding down your hips until he gave it a small squeeze.

Humming softly, you let your nose nuzzle into his neck as you closed your eyes. "I did...I just wanted to kiss you."

"I wouldn't call that a real kiss." Lucifer paused then glanced down seeing that you had fallen asleep. Lip's twitching he let out a sigh as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, for letting me have this....my angel"

#drabbles #drabble #luficer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel

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astralnymphh · 1 year ago

Text

SEXROT 𖤐 | ellie williams

☠︎︎࿐-ˊˎ jackson!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: second fic ever published, it took sm longer but has more focus on the smut part of it. maybe the epilogue is a bit more casually written but its whatevs y'all def just here for the smut anyway. but(t) i hope u enjoy!! cause i sure did!! various times.

cw/tags: NSFW 18+ MDNI, smoking weed, getting high, friends to lovers, flirting, killing infected, guns, knives, blood description, replaces the jackson patrol scenario, spitting, dom leaning ellie, fingering (receiving, vaginal) clit stim (receiving and giving-ish) strap penetration (receiving, vaginal) oral (receiving) petnames (babe,baby,babygirl,princess) almost caught naked tewgether 😈(not in the act)

WC: 6.6k+

designated song: anesthesia- type o negative

synopsis: you have resided in jackson for about six months solo in a humble cabin only a stroll away from the lively community plaza. ellie introduced herself to you two months ago on the full lunar night of a bonfire and have proved inseparable ever since. both of you had a couple things in common upholding your friendship but lots of new experiences arise from beneath those shared interests. one day, you and ellie embark on the scheduled patrol for that afternoon, plowing through scattered clusters of infected inhabiting dilapidated buildings lost in the past. presently, after trudging the pearly snow and eluding the raging snowstorm, tucking both of you into a lone library sitting amongst those very buildings, brimmed with a 'herby' mystery.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Your uneasy fingers grasp the rustic steel door handle, deprived of the haven sourced on the summit of your horse's saddle minutes prior to entering this enigma of a building. Not a soul has settled within these walls for a considerable stretch of time and it shows, dust cloaking the floor, a void pooling in various corners of each room, the stuffy and still air clogging your senses and peculiar noises erupting from either your mind or physical reality. You roll the knob and push the loose door open, hinges creaking untimely with the lingering presence of a clicker revealing itself with the infamous croaks emitting from its fungal body.

Ellie is close behind, poised over your crouched shoulder with hawk pupils scanning the room you've just discovered. Her hand nudges you and deviates your focus from the room, honing on what she was mouthing in empty words.

"Watch my back, I'm gonna sneak up on it."

You nod subtly in accordance, flattening your back against the icy door to make a path for her.

Ellie extends her gloved hand out on the doorways trim, shuffling on crouched legs past you and into the pigsty of an office, steadily approaching the mindless croaking clicker.

Your fingers seize the pistol sheathed in its thigh holster, provoking the trigger with dual fingers ready to fire a round right in the clickers noggin if need arises. The creaky chatter cracking from the fungoid continues as Ellie creeps upon its obliviousness, pouncing timely and capturing it in headlock as she fluidly jabs her switchblade into its rigid neck, spewing crimson blood outwards that painted her sleeve quite disgustingly.

"Uck," she conveys, face contorted with sourness.

Stillness remains until the coast proves clear, giving you a chance to address, "All good, no more infected."

"Well, it's about fucking time!" she heaves the figurative indent of edge from her tense chest, flicking off strings of blood from her winter sweater. "Think this doors' unlocked?" She queries herself prior to twiddling with the rattling door knob of a possible exit.

Your wandering eyes uncover the roughly concealed red and grey steel box, internalizing instantly that it was a generator, "Hey, 'Williams', there's a generator." you make known to Ellie, who's not even facing it.

She turns around, "Where there's a generator, there's a hideout. We could use the supplies, so.." she sauntered over to the generator, folding her knuckles around the pull-tab, "Hope they don't mind us borrowing- also, don't call me by my last name!"

You snort a genuine laugh and ogle the way Ellie cranks the cord, arm so stable and fierce. You felt like a bumbling idiot for admiring her mere movements, but something under the skin pined for her in a way unfathomable at first glint. Her cinnamon dotted cheeks, badass scar slanting in her brow, fluorescent fauna irises, button nose and the sheer nerd that she was really spun the tide coalescing within your tenuous heart. On the other hand, her mannerisms, thrumming husky voice and attitude frets the knot in your pelvis beyond a fixing point you can't manage alone.

"C'mon, lights are on in here." Her voice snuffs the ramblings clogging your brain, grasping your attention towards the door swinging open just now.

You stare into her pupils barreling into you, now twisting a impishly curious visage.

"What'chu thinking about?"

Your eyes flicker, "Nothing." A clod draws from your tense gullet, gulping the trance that bewitched your susceptible mind.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing'." She prys with a low gravelly tone, waddling languidly towards you.

"Nothing." You pursue vaguely, dusting past Ellie in a swift pace.

She just gawks at you, thin grooves in-between her knitted brows while she swung her head round to trail her eyes after you. Admittedly, she entertained the stray thoughts of you mutually, as the living recreations of you are sunken into her journals pages habitually. Her wrist recalls every arch and convex of your face, fingers honor the sway of your eye shape, subconscious retains the wisping of your baby hairs and consciously, Ellie just knows you as 'cute girl'. That very title is etched under the whole lot of depictions reaping your glamor throughout her journal.

"You think Eugene used this place too? I mean, all this electrical shit, nobody'd tinker with it except him." She infers, reverting to the eased doorway you just proceeded through.

Your void mind instantly heeds the flurry of wired veins branched across the next room. Your eyes trace the river of cords until it vanishes between the wall and a peculiar bookcase. Illumination pummels through the frayed wood planks backing it, luring your mind towards this enigma.

"Yo, check this out." You hoist an observation aloud, Ellie's umber auburn head whirls to peek at your discovery.

"What the fuck?" An airy chuckle grates from her throat in awe, peachy lips ajar and nooks of her mouth flexing into a smirk.

You lend your weight upon this bookcase, plateauing to drive the colossal bookshelf from where it's planted. "Ugh, a little help?"

Ellie giggles at your measly endeavor to motivate the shelf, that dumb wide crescent grin bearing upon her spread lips, "Got no muscles or something?" she quips.

"Shut up!"

She caves in and assists you regardless, moseying around and towering over you, casting a dark specter across your body. It was a casual stance, but quivers your beating core nonetheless. The noise of scratches indenting underneath the hefty bookcase as it drags screeches in your hollow eardrums.

"There." Ellie claims hoarsely, whooshing her breath against your bare neck and scoring numerous hairs to plumb from your skin.

Shaking it off, you embark through the threshold, eyes tunneling upon a downward staircase beckoning you to traverse to its descendant level.

"Tch, did Eugene own a sex dungeon?" Ellie immaturely cracks, scurrying down the steps faster than a dog could.

"I hope. That dude was lonely." You jest back in emphasis, earning a gust of laughter past Ellie's lips.

"Think we'll find scary whips and chains in there?"

"Oh my god, Els! I don't think he was into that kinda stuff." You hop a step, springing upon her and jabbing your stiff knuckles into her unalerted shoulder blades playfully.

"Ouch! It was only a theory." her voice curves in defense, sowing her feet flat after the last tread of stairs.

You tumble your eyes accompanied by a sigh, beating her to the door and pushing it open to a sight your noses realistically should have detected a floor above. Least of all ambrosial, the fetid source birthed from a garden of weed, some potted, some dangling, lots cascading over the steel tables, essentially, a fuck ton of herb.

"Unholy shit!" You expound with starstruck pupils, molting away the playful exterior you harbored just moments ago and cast an astonished visage.

"Did he grow.. all of this?" Ellie doesn't grapple with the notion of it right away, but soon materializes it in her cranium and wanders over to a pot of the dried sage green herbage.

"Must've taken ages.." you pondered, plucking a brittle leaf off its hunched stem, chafing it to ash between the pads of your glove-clad digits, "And a day.." you slyly add in regards to the weeds dehydrated state.

Ellie stupidly grins in reaction to your joke, baring teeth and all. She strides past arrays of trays, rustling the herbs strung up to the ceiling. Her eyes land upon an obscure shape, alluring her to inspect the properties of this object. She erupts, "It's a gas mask bong." cradling the mask in her hands, infatuated by its genius design.

"In what situation would you even use that?" you doubt it's anything more than plain goofy.

"Emergency relief?"

"Of course you'd know how."

"Hey, I don't smoke that often!" she wards in a pitched tone, scoffing at your mere belittling.

You reel back into a searching mode, lurking among the next isle of weed till a glass jar of blunts enlightens you. "Ellie, there's a jar of this shit!"

"Oh for real?" she trots hastily to your region, bearing a vivacious fever at the sight beholding a for real container of rolled blunts.

"Think it's fresh?"

Ellie hums an 'I dunno', cusping the jar from your hands and wrenching the lid with all her might, not budging at all. It takes her a blur of tries, observing the way her thick brows purse together and summon those vertical grooves in her forehead, an attractive sight to you.

"You need help?" you mock her, unzipping and unsheathing your arms out of the slim fitted sleeves fashioning your winter jacket.

"No, I got it." Ellie assures with a cluster of uncertainty smothering her strained voice. She had to practically arch over and bound the jar to her abdomen for faltering pressure.

"Gimme that." you snatch the glass from her dense grip, garnering a doubtful sneer skipping her lips.

"Like you'll get it."

"You shouldn't be talking." you dart a wink.

Ellie flits a smug middle finger like the immature fiend she is, peeling the green jacket layering her pewter grey hoodie off. She tosses it astray to the ground, lurking towards a convenient couch and relaxing her butt against the nook of its armrest.

The lid refuses to subdue to your firm grip, feebly slipping and searing an exasperated groan gritting your teeth. Your instincts flash and wills an arm up to hurl the jar harshly against the stone ground, pulverizing the glass into countless shards.

"What, the fuck, is wrong with you?" Ellie halts at every syllable, gesturing with her palms like a shield to the jagged fragments.

"A lot."

Ellie gives a judgey once-over at your unbothered demeanor, hiking off the couch and crouching down to cautiously pinch a freed blunt from the debris, feathering the dust off and indulging a whiff held to her nostrils, "Smells good." she asserts, hoisting up and offering the joint to you.

"We' taking a detour?" you metaphorize, rotating the blunt like a wheel between your fingertips.

"We're trapped." Ellie educed a reminder wary of the billowing snowstorm that proved risky to tread earlier.

"Totally trapped."

You both take harbor on the buffered sofa, bodies naturally vis-à-vis, a sheer four feet apart. Flicking the lighter cap open, plucking the tab and igniting the pocket flame whilst keeping your keen eyes on Ellies, who's piercing the windows to your soul with those juniper rings.

Ellie studies your face brazenly, locked on your profile as you kindle the blunt casually, lodging it between your lips to inhale a drag. Her optics tear an awkward barrier in the vacant space between you, now bidding a tension on the horizon. This makes you feel, seen, read like a poem, one that Ellie read often, and adored endlessly. Weed scorches the walls of your throat, eliciting a cough to spasm from your tight chest.

"Gah- fuck!" The spasmodic fit weaves through your distress, extended arm begging for Ellie to nab the source of your rasp from your jolting hand.

She snickers in belittlement at your expense, that dorky toothful smile crooking her rosy lips, "First time?"

"No."

"Liar."

"You'll never know."

Ellie's grin broadens prior to catering the blunt to her lips, pursing around the tip to drain a puff into her barren lungs. You take a gander at this sight, melting in the dimensional image of her woody auburn hair veiling a halo around her hung head, perking up to huff a thick smog enveloping you.

"What happened- last night, at the dance?"

"You mean, with Dina?" she passes the blunt back, fingertips mingling a moment.

A hesitant drag soothes your lips, "Yeah, if you're uh- fine telling." Luckily, a cough doesn't plague you.

Ellie's cheeks lift a smirk, "It was a.. wild night. Dina.. kissed me and then Seth went bigot mode and said a not-so-nice word."

"Oh, shit." your brows rear and carve horizontal creases to your forehead, "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just.. on edge. This helps though." she beams, nicking the smoldering blunt from you.

You couldn't divulge if she referred to you or the weed being her beacon of ease, but you dust off the thought. "So, you and Dina?" you inquire in a flirty mimic.

"N- it's.. just a kiss. She was drunk, I'm not gonna look into it- it doesn't mean anything." she stutters in a flustered haze.

Drawing some smoke in, then puffing it out, a smile invites itself on her pooling red midface and hijacks your attention.

"Why' you blushing then?"

"I'm not fuckin- fuck." Ellie's embarrassment stinges the sight of her smile as she flicks her head away, a cute sight to you that warrants your rising feelings at this moment.

"I think it's more than a kissss~" your tone curls playfully, nagging at Ellie's rattled state.

"You're on thin ice."

"A crimes' been committed, someone stole your heart!"

"I will come over there and fight you, no joke!"

"Ellie's got a girl-"

Out of the void, she has you pinned by the wrists under her clammy palm, sinking into the padded seat beneath you, auburn bang drooping like a pendulum over your face with the barely existing space between your faces. Senses plagued from the way gravity lashed out of you and hallucinogens deceived you, burrowing and growing like mold in the foggy vale of your skull.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Ellie utters through a sluggish jaw. "yet."

Your mind makes out an elusive meaning to her words, "You don't like Dina.."

Her lips calcify ajar, hot breath seeping into your buzzing skin, "It's someone else."

"Me?"

Her eyes waver, but strike up, "Yeah." she admits in a soft chuckle, wedging her thigh between your shut ones cunningly. You swear her pupils dilate like a supermoon.

A euphoric orb rings inside of your essence, thickening your veins and coating a cloak of boiling heat over your swelling hips wailing for a fucking when her voice brims your ears. This weed has really got your mind and panties in a pleasant twist. The confirmation of her liking- love? Maybe it's too soon, but it sure confirms your hidden suspicions.

"I think we needa get back to your place." Your words weigh heavy with intention.

"Fuck yeah we do." Ellie aligns with your suggestion, gnawing her tender lips with intention as well.

You both hustle off the tearing couch now tinted with a lustful sweat, not paying an ounce to sliding a coat on or gloves prior to, but not without pilfering some lone blunts scattered upon the floor, mounting your horse and galloping off.

☆

The warmth of Ellie's garage-shed-home drinks you up graciously, biting back the bone-chilling skull-screaming fever of the merciless ice age outdoors. The locked door affirms you won't be bothered, so your nerves settle and excitement brews deep in you. A new heat bonds with your body physically, Ellie embracing you cordially and her face dominates your vision.

"We're here." Her husky voice streams pleasantly, "What now?"

A chill races your spine, replying in a stutter, "L-let's do this on your bed." You heave out with desire, digging your nails into her hoodie-clad back.

Ellie descends slightly to tuck her hands under your knees, buckling you around her hips snug and lodging her crotch against your heat, the rivet of her jeans poking the valley of your clothed cunt, earning a choked whimper bearing pleasure. The ensuing moment, you're cast onto the cottony bed with Ellie crawling over you, latching her plump lips on your bare neck and peppering your neck with prompt and sloppy nibbles.

"You want this? Cus' I really want this~" her words muffle in the crook of your jaw. "But d'you?" she intoned against your ardent skin, hips bucking and rolling the lump of her denim into your clit, causing you to bear down and grind back in chase of those lovely whits of ecstasy.

"I want it.. so bad.." the tension piling since the couch at last reprieves through every respite and roll of her hips.

Bodies chafing together at Ellie's intended friction, more importantly, knee now rutting against your aching clit stirs a kugelblitz in the cavern of your pelvis. Ellie peeks her face over yours, tucking the apex of her nose aside before rolling her lips on yours with passion, smacking sounds filling your headspace.

"I've liked you for so long, yknow?" Ellie affirms on your lips, "I wanted you for so long."

The pure carnal burn tickles your skin, bubbling a sinful image behind your eyes and mouth ardent to bite down on her bottom lip in hunger.

"Fuck, babe-" Ellie breaks the kiss briefly to utter, dazed vision, via her arousal, tunneling into yours with wide pupils.

You grin, prying your thumb between your teeth in a way that appeals to her. A hand traverses your body and toys with the hem of your shirt before lurking under and grasping your bra-clad breast fondly.

"Ahh~" your voice creaks when her thumb shimmies under the bra and plays with your fervent buds.

"Like that?" Ellie's tone dwells with honeyed lust, so sweet yet so intoxicating.

Lips polarize together and spark a continuous blossom of arousal, soaking the panties and coating a flim on the denim in a portal shape. Bound by a sluggish spell, your limp arm snakes over your torso, fingertips stroking Ellie's forearm and folding under the rim of your shirt to pull it off, exposing bare skin lush with blemishes and scars, trailing along with your jeans almost torn off in a rush.

"Damn." Ellie's airy chuckle riffs in your head, prefacing a long flirty whistle.

"Stop.." A blush bruises your midface, darting away from her intense stare that crowds you with a shy rotation of your head.

"Hey, look at me." Her fingers forcep your chin, reeling your head back to drown in her sights like a gentle whisper of adoration, "I wanna make you feel good.." her words cruise in a promising melody.

That very declaration screws your core in delightful ways, waxing a breaking sweat over your already humid exterior, interior when it refers to something else.

A notion murmurs akin to a soft hollow echo betwixt your temples, ushering your body to motion. Your hands spring to clasp her unaware wrists, tussling her over and straddling her hips.

"Woah, okay. This works." Her lips spread to an exalted smile, palms perched on your thighs and digits prodding the viscose skin wrapping the crests of your hips, reading every stretch mark with her finger pads which adorns a satisfied beam to her eyes.

A slew of exhilaration crashes against the walls of your body, grinding that clothed sensitive bud on the ridge of her zipper fly, biting back a riff of moans.

"Lemme hear you." Her hand scales your body, thumb inching past your lips and hooking over your teeth, beckoning it ajar.

"Fuhhhck.." You thrill her with a droning groan, stirring your eager tongue around her thumb and suctioning a kiss around her knuckle as it adjusts beyond your teeth.

"Suck, babygirl."

Obeying her word, your lips bolt around the root of her thumb, siphoning it further inwards on the plateau of your tongue and casting dozy sex eyes upon her.

"Good girl," Ellie's finger skims out from your teeth, leaving a trail of saliva down your chin.

Your hips wallow over the hill of her bunching jeans, feeling a finger embed and press up onto your clit, damping the tip of her willowy digit thinly and hollowing out a clamor of moans.

"I gotcha this wet?" A brazen smirk glamours her lower face, rousing her own elation with a weighted chafe of her thighs, "Fuck, baby."

A figment of her voice remains like a chant in your smothered mind, calling your eyes to shut and live in every sting of pleasure stimulating you.

"Hmnnn.. mmm~" you purr, unfathomable bliss influencing your actions with every roll of your bud.

"Can I take these off?" her fingertips peruse your pantyline, to which you nod, pleating them down your hips gently once you've granted the okay signal.

Your panties eventually get hurled somewhere in her room, probably dangling from the edge of her TV screens' rim or now invited to the pile of her own laundry, nonetheless, she honed in on your now stripped slit, spreading your legs with her own shuffling first, displaying your bareness split across her open thighs.

"Watch my fingers."

So you do, focused on her gliding hand grazing your thigh in an unhurried manner, coaxing the crevice melding your thigh and crotch before they split and part your folds. She gives you a once-over before dipping into your drenched core, sucking her fingers up like it knew her touch. Her fingers inside prove warm and filling, sliding through your clenched walls with ease and in return rewards you with a drunken and drowsy gaze from her seductive greenhouse glow eyes.

“You take me in so well, shit-” Ellie’s humid mutter seeps into the swirling skin of your temple, close proximity with her heaving chest and the aroma of her natural scent coating the chamber of your skull deeply.

Her skins aflame with an amber luminance and dampening, reeking of carnal ache through her sullied hoodie, so you slur out, “I wann-feel your skin’n mine..” you clutch on the band of her hoodie, knuckles prodding her firm abdomen.

"Fingers not enough?" Ellie's hoarse yet silky voice coos, fingers sliding from your sopping wet cunt and slick glazing her svelte digits beautifully.

"I need all of you." You lean and overshadow her stationary body, hastily pulling her hoodie over her head and ruffling her hair a smidge.

"Mhm, baby?" Ellie reposes her benign palms to your hips, fingernails indenting the plush skin of your ass and inscribing a reddened row of scratches, a daring idea lighting inside her head, "y'wanna sit on my face, pretty girl?" her husky tone thickens.

An answer spurns from your agape lips, instead winding your body to heed her suggestion and climb upwards towards her face, observing the way she bites her pink lips at the sight of your eagerness before your stature projects over her and offers a pleasing sight to her sex-swollen mind.

Your avidness turns her on, admittedly, "Fuck, babe- gonna clean y'up good, okay?"

Her greedy digits resume through your ocean-soaked folds, splitting them apart and sinking three fingers in, fiending for the profound warmth your core provides. They dip in nicely, entrance molding to the shape of her fingers, absorbing every intent feeling her curving knuckles elicit in your throbbing walls and the celestial heavens wash over you.

"Fuck me- oh god.."

"That's what I'm doing.." Ellie sneaks in a playful joke, a crook slanted smile smoothing her lips for a mere moment before swiping it away with her tongue 'wetting the whistle'. Her hunger lives for your taste, colliding timely with your clit and suckling the bud into her pressed lips, simultaneously pumping her fingers into your leaking pussy and forcing a spiking yelp from your unlatched mouth.

"Mmm, Ellie.." you whine, gripping on her already disheveled locks instinctively.

She doesn't reply, too focused on rolling the swelling bud with her nimble tongue flicking endlessly between your delicate folds. An arm buckles over your thigh, elbow adjacent to your hip crest and pinning you further against her deft lapping motions. Ellie knew what she was doing.

The curved fingers coaxing your g-spot sparingly is just enough stimulation to decay your functioning senses, "Els- El..Ellie.." you wail breathless, her tongue prying at the hood of your clit lovingly whilst suctioning inwards sends shockwaves down your legs and into your feet.

Ellie parts from your core, smeared with your slick gleaming down her chin. She sucks in the wetness dripping from her lips, "Tastes so good, babe- mm, so fuckin' hot." she steeps her vision in the perspective of your body elongated before her, eyeing like a precious gem.

You melt in the quickened pace of her fingers inside you, knuckles deep and brimming with arousal overflowing at the base of her fingers. The intense thrusting of your sobbing pussy ejects a melodious line of moans, "Fuuuuck…" masking the tantalizing noises of your heat slapping with Ellie's palm.

"Cum, babygirl, come on.." Her voice husks gravelly, deepening in your skull while numb-fucking you into oblivion with hawk eyes staring up at you.

Lubricous strings lash against your outer folds and inner thigh at each smack her hand endures, her tongue slurping up those juices pooling over your neglected clit adding an extra layer of lust incarnate ramming your walls to be released. Giving in, your nerves flare up and pulse around your opening, limbs tightening and clenching, especially around Ellie's lithe fingers, a sweet pleasure engrossing your entire essence with a rush of fluid spiraling down her knuckles.

"Good fuckin'- that's m'girl.." She growls inwardly against your stuffed cunt, thrumming from her chest igniting that attractive muffled voice she crowns.

You feel her fingers slip out, leaving a hollow sense rooting in your core. A suctioning sound comes from below you, noticing that Ellie had licked the taste of you from her pussy-drowned fingers.

"God, Ellie.. where'd you learn that?" you huff out, still descending your head from the sun above.

"Experience." She discloses, not a fragment of bluffing behind those proud eyes, relishing in the way she drove you to boundless ecstasy. She announces, "I'm not done yet though."

You inquire a bumbled facade until you hack her meaning just as she leverages you off her face with dual strong grips setting you to the side. Hoisting onto her knees, spinning 'round to rustle through her nightstand, equipped with a slightly beaten but sealed box once she faces you again.

"Fuck is that?" You ask with knitted brows, curving curiosity in your smirk.

"So, there was this sex store up in-"

"Ellie, is that a dildo?" you poke the box.

"Not- exactly no."

"Bitch, I'm gonna be getting a different kind of infection from that."

"It's sealed! The building was barely ruined or inhabited," She defends, gentle hands rubbing your folded knees. "I just wanna fuck you."

You bob your head languidly, bidding an unwarranted smile on your lips, "You did, though."

"But I can do so much more.." Her face levitates towards yours, "If you want?" the corners of her mouth jerk, upholding that memorable smile, dimples, nasal lines and all.

"Obviously.. I want it.." your voice rumbles navelly, eyes fix on her pupils, narrowed lids and a siren visage.

"Head on the pillow then, princess." Ellie chuckles, hands mindlessly peeling open the box.

Your fingers linger on your bra, still on somehow, so you brace it off willingly, plopping into the cloudy pillow enveloping your sticky skin with a cotton case creasing like a halo surrounding your head.

Ellie dumps the box's contents out, a thick hunter green mass smacking your thigh, "Shit, sorry." she clasps the strap-on by its buckle, leading it off your thigh simultaneously to giggling.

"How long ago did you find that box anyway?"

"Like.. a month or two?" her voice curves, unsure.

"So, you've been planning this for 2 months?"

"I've liked you longer than that."

"Oh?"

"I didn't plan it, I just.. had the stray thought." Ellie's cheeks churn in a red tint, "But I always think of you, fake dick or not."

"It's fine, I wanted you for a while too, so it's mutual." you sync a blush, anticipating the hazy lust to clamor within you again, "Thought of you too."

A mischievous grin carves on her lower face, light eyes squinting, "Like, in bed-"

"Get that damn thing on already."

"Yes, ma'am!" Ellie resumes her motions, tearing the rest of her under garments off in a pinch, bare alongside you. She fastens the strap on snug, jabbing into her untended clit that jams a groan out of her diaphragm.

"Neglected a bit?" you tease.

"Shut up." she hushes in a honeyed mumble, slouching slightly and grasping the mimicked shaft, spitting into her unoccupied palm and massaging the length graciously, "There we go.." she hums deeply.

Next thing, Ellie's hoisted your bottom between her thighs and legs hugging her hips loosely, seconds away from cramming the entire base into your over-sensitive pussy. She runs the tip through your delicate folds, sloshing the lewd slickness around which is music to your ears. Her eyes darted over to capture yours, withholding the appetite for one last affirm of consent; "Ready babe?"

"Mhm." You nod with zero hesitation, squirming your hips in timidness for what might be brought upon your foggy senses.

Ellie leans her body over you, sinking the tip between your slippery walls and gauging you in one quick swing of her hips.

"Fuck!" Bliss clogs your throat but overdrive knots in your pelvis, implanting your bottom deeper in the sheets as a means of reprieving the inferno of overstim just slightly.

Ellie lends you a moment of adjustment, asking in a silky tone, "Can I start moving?" her face a breath away from yours, arms like pillars locking you between her hands.

"Please.." you secure your legs around her hips, nicking her in the butt with the heel of your foot playfully, "fuck me.."

Ellie's muscles tense in excitement, fierce craving looms in her face and her hands run down to grip your hips in a carnal fashion as she sinks you deeper on her base, uttering under a hush, "I'll fuck the shit out of you."

Following that, you embrace her close to you as her hips begin to crash against yours slowly, akin to a wave, hollowing and filling as she pumps her hips flawlessly.

Tickling whimpers purring from your lips linger around the base of her ear, encouraging her to speed up slightly, chromatically raising the pitch of your pleasure, "Els…" you whine.

The strap jerks back at every thrust, chafing with her sensitive clit in provoking ways that draw out steamy breaths from her every moan. Friction beguiled her to pace faster, digging the straps base into her bud deeper, heaving a "Fuck, baby, fuck!" from that groggy voice as your hips knead together, her fingernails scraping your plush bottom instinctively.

You cast your head back towards the headboard, displaying a tidal of curses surfing from your throat at the top of cloud nine, "Yes! god.. harder.."

"Say my name.."

"Els-E-Ell.." you struggle as your voice gets smothered by every buck her hips produce.

"Come on.. you can do it." she motivates you in a sugary sweet coo.

"Ellie!" you wail, "Ellie.."

"Good girl."

Ellie snaps and throws her torso up, clutching your tender hips and slamming them down on her eased cock, front slapping harshly against your bottom with aiding wetness splayed across your legs, her face contorting one of strain at the sheer intensity her speed proves to be.

"Mm, fuck!" You writhe in erotic contentment, stunned by the pure sensations sweeping your nerves and swirling around your pelvis, she's fucking you so good, your minds' all mush.

Ellie bites back her ceaseless rasps, riveted on the way your breasts bounce restlessly with every pound, bewitched by the sight and honestly almost drooling since her mouth was just open. She groans, "You gonna cum again? Hmm?" her thrusting falters and begins to get sloppy, out of breath.

"A-huh! Hmmnn.." your vision blurs and you fall into a dizzying spire, fucked out of your mind and on the verge of snapping.

"Yes.. yess.." Ellie mewls out, the dark amber strand sticking to her drenched forehead, emanating a beautiful glow across her body that weaved every groove her toned muscles bestowed, highlighting her drooping lids, agape mouth and taut forehead creasing when fucking felt just right.

All the feelings bubble up, the strap hitting your g-spot so perfectly, fogging your mind and tossing your coordination out the window. She descends her head towards your neck, sanguine bites lathered upon your shoulder and crook of your neck.

"Ellie- I'm gonna.."

"Me too." She huffed out, slamming your hips down in unison with her movement, a sheet of slick glazed between both of your crotches causing a wet slap to occur with each thrust, "Open up more, babe." her hands trail to your thighs, forcing them apart .

"It's s'fhukin g-mmm.." your voice slurs and cuts off.

"Shhhshh… shh.. I know.." her lips drag against your ear, prideful eyes drowning in your fucked out face, proud of her work.

The swelling knot in your pelvis finally snaps, sending you quivering in her arms. Lewd moans clatter against the rooms walls, orgasm overwhelming your systems and gyrates your brain on a down spiral. Muggy sweat cloaks your entire body and hinders a steady breath from grazing your lungs.

Ellie's pelvis doesn't hesitate to halt, colliding with yours and rendering your already fried senses into a numbing and jittery state. She chases her own climax, hosting a melody of moans into your ears as she approaches release, "Fuck~ fuck fuhhckk.. babe." she squints harshly, driving her clit into the strap's base fiending for release.

"Els.." you whine, bracing the eruption of overstim.

"Just hold on, baby, hold'n.. uhh- fuck." Ellie's neck tightens and narrows her voice into a groan, gripping your wrist with a might to bear down her intense orgasm, sexy low growls thrumming from her chest. Her body falls flat on you in immediate exhaustion, burrowing the strap deep inside at a pause.

A laugh entrances you, "Felt good, hmm?"

"I should be asking you.. shit.." Ellie's chest rises sporadically against you as she syncs a giggle, sliding her hips away and taking the strap off without batting an eye so she could pepper you with smooches enraptured in a cuddle.

"It was good.. really fuckin' good."

Your reply seeps into her mind, inviting a sheepish smile to her face, "So.. does this mean, you'll be my… girlfriend?" a chuckle spurts out to clear any awkwardness.

That same pre-sex shy blush paints your face, replying, "Yeah, hell yeah."

"Okay.. you wanna, stay here tonight?" Ellie suggests with soft yet worn out eyes, fiddling with the hair cascading from your scalp.

"Of course, I don't think I can walk anywhere now." you quip, whisking your finger over her nose tip.

"Yeah.. bet I was better than any guy." She praises herself, beaten fingers tracing shapes on your chest.

"At least you get to choose your size."

"Pfft, you're funny." A brilliant laugh brushes past her lips, with a mellow whisper, "and so pretty." her thumb swipes your cheek.

You wrap your snug thighs enveloping her body, "You too, Williams."

"Still calling me that? I thought I said-"

You seal her lips with a prolonged kiss, dragging your lips against hers in a hypnotic passion, getting her to engage in something a bit longer than a lone kiss. She indulges without a second thought, slurping you up and tasting every inch of your-

A knock pounds your hearing and the door, adjourning the steamy makeout for a different time.

The voice behind the knocking calls out, "Yo, Ellie! You in there?" unmasking itself to be Jesse.

"Shit!" she yells, "Be right there!" and scurries off the bed, hunting for her under garments frantically.

You quickly bolt off the bed and swoop your undergarments, nearly toppling over as you shimmy your underwear on hurriedly but fortunate enough to catch your fall with some clamorous foot thumps to the wooden floor.

"What's goin' on in there? You fightin' a runner in there?" Jesse quips, his voice deadened by the walls.

"Ye- No!" Ellie stammers in a rush, managing to yank her jeans up and throw a bland white shirt over it, oblivious to the fact that it was inside-out, seams bulking and tag visible.

You were on the brink of raising a question to Ellie, but bite it back as she swings the door open and you cling to the closet adjacent to but behind the open door, not without a blow from your back against its rattling nature that had Ellie spooked for a split second.

"What're you doing here?" Ellie inquires, crossing her arms to appear unbothered.

"Heard you had quite a night after I left." His voice clarifies, streaming through the open door.

"It-" Her response defects, "She kissed me. Dina being Dina, it doesn't mean anything-"

"Wait, you kissed Dina?" Jesse interjects her reply, voice curving in curiosity.

"Oh, I thought-"

"We're broken up one week and you make a move on my girl?"

"No- She was the one- I don't even.." Ellie corners herself into a distraught state.

"I'm messing with you man, I don't care. I just swung by to tell you Maria switched up the assignments for tomorrow, you're up for more patrol."

"Seriously? I thought I'd get-"

"Hey why's your shirt inside out? Did you really get tangled up with a runner in there?" He jokingly peeks into the room, jolting back when Ellie's forearm bars him out randomly.

"None of your business, I get it now you can go." She sternly affirms, slowly creaking the door closed.

"What'chu hidin' in there?"

"Go!" Ellie strikes the door shut on his face, secretly flipping him off from the opposite site under the knob.

"Unholy fuck-"

"Next time try not to wake the dead with your footsteps!" She snaps back at you through an adorned smile, on edge from the unexpected, interrupting, visit.

"Like I said I can barely walk from your-"

Ellie strides up in a pacey fashion, cradling your head from the back in her palms, linking lips with yours soulfully.

You press your lips, dawdling with hers and soaking in the taste of breath and flesh. It feels so good to expose your love, animated for her in this moment now, like a singing felicity in your heart. She parts, engulfing you in her olive irises before she croaks.

"Say we.. get back to bed? I wanna show you my drawings.." A sugary murmur trampling her usually husky voice.

"Yeah.." you wriggle your lips in a creeping smirk, leveraging your weight from one leg to the other.

"C'mere." Ellie creaks before tackling you onto the bed, burying you with infinite ticklish kisses along your face, a declaration of unfiltered affection in her lasting intentions.

"Ellie! That tickles.."

"Good."

hope you enjoyed!!! <3

MASTERLIST

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #the last of us #the last of us 2 #wlw #jackson!ellie #ellie wiilliams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie smut

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poge-life · 2 years ago

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𝕍𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕣 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪

“ I’m (y/n) (l/n) and we’re the cast of Outer Banks and today, we’re going to test how well we know each other.” You smiled looking between the camera and the group to your left. Carlacia raised her hand as she motioned between you and Drew, “Drew shouldn’t be allowed to answer any of these because none of us will even have a chance.”

Everyone let out sounds of agreement as you shook your head, reading the first question, “I don’t know. These are questions that made me think about my answer.”

“Okay, oo. This is a good one. What movie animal is my dog named after?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this.” Drew told you but you shook your head in disagreement, “I’ve mentioned it before but I think it was when you guys first met him.”

“The adventures of Milo and Otis?” Chase asked and Madison agreed but you shook your head. Both Austin and Drew leaned forward to try and read the car but you quickly pulled away, tucking the card against your chest, “Cheaters!”

“What movie has a dog named Milo in it?”

“Oh! The mask! His dogs name is Milo!” Rudy answered and you flipped your card, showing ‘The Mask’, “I’m a huge Jim Carrey fan and since Milo is also a jack russell, it was fate.”

“Oo, you guys are never going to get this one,” you laughed, reading the card, “it literally took me so long to even think about this one. When I was 5, I jumped off the banister and had to get stitches. Where were the stitches?”

Everyone looked over at Drew, who would be the only one to remotely know the answer but he just tilted his head at you in thought.

“Your head?” Madelyn asked but you shook your head, “Nope. My sister did though. Cracked her head open.”

“How are you and your sister still alive?” Austin asked, looking at you in surprise as you shrugged before writing your answer on the card.

“Your legs?” JD asked, snapping his fingers at you

“Nope. Not even close.”

Drew clapped his hands once as he looked over at you, “Your tongue. You bit through your tongue and had to get 6 stitches.”

“Your tongue?!?” Madison asked, looking over at you in shock as you flipped your card, showing the answer, “Yes. I smacked my chin on the arm of the couch and bit right through my tongue. My tongue was stuck and I had to get stitches.”

“You just need to live in a bubble at this point, girl.” Carlacia laughed as everyone agreed with her.

“What do I think is the grossest thing a person can do?”

“THROWING UP!” Drew and JD shouted at the same time as they high fived. You cringed as you showed your card that read ‘throwing up’ as the answer.

“I hate throwing up. I hate the way I feel before, during, and after. It’s just so gross and gives me the ick.” You shuddered as Austin patted your leg, “The first time she threw up in front of us, she cried because of how grossed out she was.”

“That was traumatizing for all of us,” Rudy explained, “we were out on a boat and she just went very pale and threw up. Everywhere. We had no idea what had happened and then she just started bawling her eyes out. We all started panicking, thinking something was wrong but then she said how she hated throwing up and it just…it killed the whole vibe.”

You chucked the marker cap at Rudy, who ducked but went to retrieve it, “Sorry that being seasick killed the vibe, dillhole.”

Letting out a laugh at the nest question, you looked over at Drew and shook your head, “you’re not allowed to answer this one. You’ll get the answer right away.”

“I’ve known all of these, baby,” he winked and your face went red as you hid it behind the card, “just trying to give them a chance.”

“You guys gross me out.” Madelyn teased, looking between you two

“What is my favorite show to binge?” You asked, but you wrote down two possible answers.

“That 70s show is one.” Chase answered, “I always hear the theme song in your trailer and you quote it constantly.”

“You also watch the walking dead a lot too.” JD added, pointing to Chase, “you yell at your laptop a lot.”

“Dude, you have no idea how long it took me to get used to her yelling at the tv.” Drew told him, “the first time she did it, I thought she was pissed at me for no reason but she was just watching the walking dead.”

Everyone started talking about how into your shows you get, causing you to hold up your hands in protest, “Okay, okay! There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about movie and tv shows. But yes, that 70s show and the walking dead are my go to.”

“Two complete opposite shows, by the way.” Madison pointed out

“Oo, how many tattoos do I have?”

Everyone went quiet as they stared at you, no doubt picturing the tattoos that laid under your clothes. You had been purposely asked to wear a long sleeve top and pants to not let them get the answer so easily.

“I wanna say…12?” Carlacia asked, tilting her head at you, “Most of them are on your right arm but I know you have a few on your left. You have the fairy wings on your back…”

“I know you have a dinosaur on your leg because I drew a hat on it last week.” Austin answered, causing you to look up from writing your answer, furrowing your eyebrows at him, “you drew a hat on Terrance?”

“You named the dinosaur Terrance?” JD laughed as you nodded, “Terrance the triceratops.”

“Terry, for short.” Drew added, pointing at you as you nodded

“I wanna say 10 or 15.” Madison said, leaning forward, “I know you got P4L after season 2 came out.”

“You only had like 2 when the show started.”

“There’s a few you guys don’t know about cause they’re always covered.” You told them, going over your answer. Drew didn’t even miss a beat with his response, “Well, they don’t. But I do.”

“Okay! Who’s next?!”

#outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks imagines #rafe obx #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron smut #obx #obx rafe #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagines #obx rafe cameron #obx3 #outer banks x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x reader

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nina-ya · 1 month ago

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Queen of the Night

A/N: I have always wanted to do something like this ever since I discovered Oda associates Law with this flower so here!!! Pairing: Law x reader CW: backstory spoilers if you squint its like super vague tho • masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It happens so rarely that you sometimes forget what it feels like. Law is a man of barriers built so high that you’ve lost count of the layers. And yet, Law, the Queen of the Night, blooms ever so rarely for you, and his guard falls. It’s never when you expect it. It could be at moments when the moon is at its highest and you two are sitting in comfortable silence, or it could be when the sun kisses your skin as you explore an island with the crew. Small and elusive moments, so fragile that you almost fear that they aren’t real.

“Have I told you about my parents?” There it is. The blooming of the flower that only dares to show its beauty in the most scarce moments.

It’s the kind of sentence that hands in the air suspended in time. You blink and your breath catches in your throat because you know better than to ask questions when it comes to him. You know that if you prod or push too hard, he’ll retreat back into that shell he’s so used to hiding in.

So you wait.

Law’s eyes are fixed on some distant point off across the room, as though he is seeing the very manifestation of something that no longer exists.

“They were good people. Doctors. Believed in saving lives… even when the world told them it was pointless.”

There’s a bitterness in his words that you can feel deep in your chest. He’s not talking about the heroism of their profession- no, this is something darker, something heavy that sits on his shoulders and is weighing heavily on him.

You stay silent, giving him space. You watch as the flower opens slowly, petal by petal, revealing its delicate center only when it feels safe.

“They didn’t deserve what happened to them,” he continues, voice cracking in a way that you know he wouldn’t allow on any other occasion. It’s a sound that feels too raw, too real, for someone of his nature.

His hand twitches against his leg, the muscle tensing as if fighting back the urge to hold something that isn’t there anymore. You want to reach out and touch him, but something holds you back. Not fear, no, but respect. You understand that these moments are a gift, and you don't show him pity or try to interrupt him, you just let him open up on his own accord.

“And when they died- my parents… sister… everyone…” He swallows, throat tightening as he struggles to get the words out. “I fell into a very dark place. One that I am not sure I have completely gotten away from.”

His words are jagged, straight from the depths of his soul and you wonder just how long he’s carried all of this with him, letting it fester in his mind waiting to be told to those who are patient enough to wait for him to be ready to say such things.

“What happened during that darkness- the man who brought me out of it…” he pauses once more, taking a shaky breath. “He’s the reason why I am doing all of this. He’s why I am even here.”

You don’t dare ask for details of the savior he speaks of, knowing that he will tell you when he’s ready. Tonight might not be the night, but you have already accepted that you won’t be getting all the details, but rather just a few pieces of the puzzle of his past that you ought to put together over time.

The flower will soon close again by morning and Law will soon put back up those walls, locking himself away for the unforeseeable future. So you savor what little time you have watching him blossom. You feel a sense of honor knowing that he trusts you enough to let you see this side of him, even if it’s just for tonight.

And even when the flower of his heart begins to close, you know deep down that it will bloom again. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a long time. But it will. And when it does, you’ll be right there, waiting, just like you are tonight.

Because that’s what it means to love him. To be patient. To wait. And to cherish every moment that the Queen of the Night blooms for you.

#nina writes~✦#trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #x reader

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fushigur0ll · 1 year ago

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EARTH42! MILES BF HCS

꒰ ♡ ꒱- x black fem!reader

earth42!miles who loves you and cares for you so much other then his mom and uncle. he’s the best bf you can ask for as much as he looks so nonchalant and cold from the outside, he’s the most sweetest and romantic person on the inside.

earth42!miles swings by your house when he hasn’t seen you in at least a few hours to a few days or a week. he apologizes when he realizes that you’ve been neglected for a while and spends his time with you as much as he can before he heads back to deal with the world he and you both live in

one thing about earth42!miles is that he never forgets a date or special occasion. he can be busy, yes but he will never forget your birthday, anniversary or any other occasion. one time, it was your birthday, he had sent you money to go buy yourself whatever you wanted and when you were done, you came home with bags on your wrists, hair and nails done, and a cute outfit you had worn to go out. you had almost dropped your bags when you seen your bf standing in the middle of your room, with a bouquet of pink and purple flowers, gifts upon gifts on your bed with plushies and other cute stuff he would always see you stare at when you two would be out together as well as snacks that you assume you both will use in a bit to cuddle and watch movies. you put your bags down, frowning when feeling yourself tear up. he smiles at you softly putting the flowers down and widening his arms for you to walk into his chest, holding him tightly.

“happy birthday, ma”

you smile and feel his fingers tilt your head up to passionately lock lips, holding each other close as the atmosphere is perfectly set. the sky was orange and yellow with spots of red and purple even as the brightest star known as the sun sets down, it cracks through the curtains and widely shows from the balcony that was open from miles coming through that way inside your room. he slowly unlocks his lips from yours with his eyes still closed, the kiss lingering on his lips still. he pecks your lips once more before cupping your face and watching you stare at him softly.

“i love you”

you tear up at how soft you feel right now it’s unexplainable. he notices the tears building up in your eyes and chuckles, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks and under eye.

“my crybaby”

you scoff and roll your eyes playfully, placing your palms flat on his chest.

“i love you more baby..thank you for this, like really- i can’t even speak i’m just so happy” you smile and look at everything he’s got you.

“anything just to see you smile mami”

then for the rest of the evening, you both looked over the stuff he’s got then watched a bunch of movies you both enjoyed and ended the night in each others arms. you asleep with a small smile on your lips too with miles holding you close to him. your body was practically on him, one leg wrapped around his waist with your arms hugging his torso and head to his chest. he rubs the soft skin of your thigh as well as your arm as he stares at you just thinking about how happy he was to have someone like you with him in a world this hectic and a spider-verse so chaotic. he even thinks about marrying you one day but he knows he’ll have to wait till that day comes. his life was still crazy and will do anything to keep you out of it..well..he tried to but you found out anyway and ever since then he told you about anything that was bothering him or stressing him out as much as he didn’t want to put his burdens and issues on you but it felt extremely nice to have someone listen to him without judging him in any way and that’s one of many hundred reasons he’s so in love with you

earth42!miles who will take you out on dates that isn’t extravagant but simple and perfect for the both of you. picnic, park, and beach dates are something you hold near and dear to your heart. any date you go on with your boyfriend is always something to remember. as much as he doesn’t look like the type to take you out on dates, he doesn’t mind it at all. you both could be strolling through the park late at night, his arm around your shoulder as you talk about your day at school and work right after. he listens to everything you say and just loves it when you ramble, as much as he won’t confess that he does. you both can also be at the park, pushing you high on the swing and hearing you yelp, laugh and giggle. it’s his favourite thing in the world..but again…not like he’s gonna admit it to you but you see his small smile so he’s not that slick.

earth42!miles who will allow you to touch and braid his hair other then his mom. he sits on the floor with your legs on either side of him and your hands just work on his hair, taking out his braids.

“damn- baby my head is tender as it is” he groans and rubs the tender spot on his head

“oh, i’m sorry miles, i’ll be more gentle…and that means you need to oil your hair more boy” you scold him lightly, shaking your head when you hear him chuckle

“yes ma’am”

you help him wash, condition, shampoo his hair and when everything all done, you put his hair right back into his lovely braids and thanks you with a lingering kiss to the corner of your lips

“thank you ma”

all earth42!miles loves doing is spoiling you. you barley ask- let me rephrase, you don’t ask for him to take you shopping because he will just gladly take you on a random day out of the week at anytime. you always ask for his opinion because he does have good taste. he does enjoy moments like these with you and people would think he’s bored walking around the store with his girlfriend but really and truly, he loves going out with you and once again, he won’t admit it to you at all!!

lastly, earth42!miles loves you from the spider-verse and back. ever since he got with you, it’s made him happier then he was before. way before he met you, he was dealing with so much issues, responsibilities and burdens that was hard to take..but you’ve made it all better and made him hopeful for everyday to come with you by his side, showing how much he loves you everyday he sees your pretty self.

what can i say

earth42!miles is a nonchalant sucker in love

#—fushi’snotes #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #earth42 miles x reader #earth42 #earth42!miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #x black reader #x black fem reader #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse x reader

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fawnnpaws · 5 months ago

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need childhood best friend!patrick to originally brush you off, not take what you have seriously and take you for granted. you’ve been friends for basically your entire lives. you spent summers at his mansion by the beach, he spent winters skiing in the alps with your family. somewhere in your young adulthood the lines started to blur. now you’re basically doing everything a girlfriend does but he won’t put a label on it. he’s on tour and you’re starting your career, so you only see him when he shows up unannounced at your door.

it would be easier if he didn’t tell you how much he missed you every time. if he didn’t eat you out like he’s starved for you and you alone. if he didn’t hold you in bed afterwards and wake you up with soft kisses all over your face. if he didn’t treat you like he loved you. a dirty word neither of you dare to ever say out loud.

because after all that, you know he’s seeing other people on tour. you know because the world is small and you’ll get texts from friends in far away places that say “i saw patrick leaving a club with some girl, are you guys not a thing anymore??” and you have no words to explain that you were technically never a thing in the first place.

you think you’re okay with it, that you can live with expecting nothing more than physical satisfaction from one another if it means patrick zweig is still in your orbit, but resentment starts to build. you start to fight more and eventually it all comes crashing down with him shouting “you’re not my fucking girlfriend! stop acting like you’re in love with me or something!” at you and watching in sort of horror as you go cold and just say, “okay.” and leave.

need him to agonize about it for weeks, waiting for you to break and talk to him first like you always do when you two fight. but it never comes. he’s left alone with a gaping hole in his chest that you used to fill. and what’s even worse? he’s left alone with nothing but himself to blame.

he can’t pin this on you. he didn’t realize how good you were to him, how much he’d miss talking with you and making you laugh, how much he relied on calling you and hearing your voice. not to mention, it feels like you’ve ruined pussy for him forever. he tries to fuck other people, but he can only get off if he’s thinking about you.

so, he caves. he has to, he’s fucking losing his mind without you. he practically bangs down your door with flowers in hand, wilted and abused from being shaken around while he ran to your apartment. you crack the door open an inch and he barges in, not letting you get a word in before he’s giving you a speech about how he fucked up and he wants— no needs to be with you. need you to take him back. he’s worked himself up to nearly hyperventilating by the end of it before you stop him and say, “patrick, i forgave you at the flowers, but it was really nice to hear you say all that.”

the thing is, you were seconds away from breaking when he showed up at your door. you’d never iced him out for that long and as much as you wished you had the strength to cut him off, you knew you never could.

you love him. and you tell him so. you let the words you’d been guarding since he kissed you for the first time when you were 18 spill from your lips. it feels different than you expected. every scenario you’d run in your head before this ended in him telling you he doesn’t feel the same way. but when you look at him now, with his rumpled flowers and tearful eyes, you know he does. and to your absolute delight, he tells you so.

#yall im SOFT today #need love and comfort #they fuck nasty right after this don’t worry #maybe i’ll write that later who knows #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #fawn writes 🎀

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anna-hawk · 1 year ago

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The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁

Also on AO3

You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise.

Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree?

Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.

Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and…

“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes.

Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance.

“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head.

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either.

“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want?

“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression.

Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you.

“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present.

You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look.

“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively.

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath.

“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty.

“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.

You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious.

“You sure?” you grinned.

This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here.

He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug.

“How… Who…”

How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick.

The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?”

Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if…

“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.

He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them?

You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa.

He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later.

“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?”

You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again.

“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”

“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?”

You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face.

“Am I on the naughty list yet?”

His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face.

“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on.

“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was.

Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly.

“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”

Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you.

“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose.

“Merry Christmas.”

He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later.

One year later

Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off.

You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties.

As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen…

That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up.

Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit.

Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up?

The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles.

“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in.

Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you.

As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.

Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing.

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression.

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.

Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year.

“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”

“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you.

Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly.

“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.

“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule.

“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face.

Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily.

“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.”

You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable.

“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”

Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal.

“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him.

He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster.

“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor.

As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him.

Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come.

“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word.

“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.

Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk.

“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock.

His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction.

“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further.

Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock.

“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth.

Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed.

Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt.

“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth.

You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that?

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply.

“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move.

“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom.

Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly.

You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”

Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on.

“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression.

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level.

“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.”

Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day.

“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations.

Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders.

While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you.

Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time.

“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his.

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw.

“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”

His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you.

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!”

This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him.

“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again.

“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?”

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!”

You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face.

“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”

His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan.

Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair.

“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last.

Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder. You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up.

“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms.

You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration.

“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face.

“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble.

“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged.

This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him.

Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him.

He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.”

You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking.

“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast.

A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes.

“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off.

You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…

“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way.

Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead.

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later.

Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned.

Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair.

A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face.

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively.

Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him.

“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.”

“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him.

#Nicomund x reader #violent night #santa x reader #reader insert #violent night fanfiction #david harbour #christmas smut #yes I'm aware it's August 🤣

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stellar-skyy · 10 months ago

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WITH YOU— Wanderer x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Wanderer wakes up by his lover's side. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: References to Wanderer's backstory. iii. NOTES: Fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.1k words. iv. A/N: Written for @ecrin-de-litterature's Kiss (don't tell) event! My matchup was @iceunhie!! Mhie!!! I hope you enjoy!! I'm sorry if this is ooc I am so unused to writing Wanderer ;-;

Every morning Wanderer wakes, he stares.

He can’t help it, truly. He’s always been an early riser, ever since he was a youth. Back then, when he rose from the pile of blankets on the floor he called a bed, it was always well before the other person occupying the house. The young boy—his brother, his family—was the opposite, and would rest until the sun slipped through the cracks under the door and right into his eyes. By then, Wanderer would have returned with a heaping of Lavender melons for breakfast, and they'd enjoy the morning together.

Even with the Fatui, who all woke before the crack of dawn to begin their duties, he was the first to get up. He was lucky enough to witness the horrors of the Knave before she’d drunk a cup of coffee, and the amusement of seeing sleep-deprived new recruits who hadn’t adjusted to the early schedule quite yet.

And now, when the place he lived was no longer empty, and he no longer needed to sleep lightly for fear of a knife to his throat, he still found himself waking with the sun.

The moment dawn began to break, he was already stirring. Within moments of blinking himself awake, he moves to seek out the warm presence by his side, pausing for a moment to watch them as they slept.

His eyes trace every inch of their face, until it was burned into his mind. Every detail; the slope of their nose, the delicate curl of their lashes, each mark on their skin. It would never fail to astound him, just how irrevocably human they were: from the veins tracing spiderwebs across their wrists to the slow thrum of their heartbeat.

He observes carefully, as each inhale of their breath brought their chest up and down. Their lips were just barely parted to let air through. He imagines them curling into that delightfully familiar smile, the one that sent shivers down his spine even after dozens upon dozens of times he’s witnessed it.

That smile could melt him, in a way no other human could. They were the exception to so many rules in his life, breaking past his resentment towards humanity and worming their way into where his heart would be, if he had one.

They were just so undeniably, disgustingly kind.

How else could he describe them, when they were the one to see him with all his sharp edges and still have enough patience to fall in love with him? What other words could he say, when they look upon him every day, knowing the horrors of his past and still having enough faith to believe he can become something good?

Kindness was a stranger to him. Cruel words, and ugly sneers were far more commonly thrown his way. They were a familiarity; a comfortable sort of pain, something easy to swallow.

That’s what no one tells you about being hated: eventually, it feels safe. Eventually there comes a point where you crave their fear, their disgust, like it’s the only thing keeping yourself whole. That’s when they say your name like it’s a curse, and you feel lucky to hear it at all.

‘Love’ is something else entirely. For the longest, love was a burden; love was what left you abandoned on the steps of the Shakkei Pavilion, or exiled from the only place you've ever called home.

But… he loved them. Gods, he loved them. And they loved him too, if the words they told him sleepily before they fell asleep were true. Love was terrifying; it was a feeling so human that he couldn’t possibly know how to handle it.

They began to shift in their sleep, face scrunching up minutely, before their eyes cracked open.

“You staring?” They say, their words slightly slurred with sleep.

Of course. “Of course not. I was just watching how you drool in your sleep. It looked so pathetic that I found myself in awe.”

“Mhm,” They yawn. “Tell me again how much you hate me.”

He hesitated, letting his mask crack for just a moment. “I don’t hate you.”

In terms of love confessions, it was pretty pathetic.

“Ever the romantic, aren’t you? I—” Another yawn cuts through whatever more they were going to say. They hum gently, shuffling closer to rest a head against his shoulder.

If he had a heart, it would be pounding. “Tch. Clingy, aren’t you?”

“I don’t see you pulling away.” They weren’t wrong. Absently, he moved to make himself more comfortable, sliding an arm around their waist and resting his chin on top of their head.

“I could hardly leave you alone, could I? Humans must truly be pitiful creatures, craving affection like they’d starve without it. What would you be without me?”

“Well, if I’m so pitiful, I might as well leave,” They huff, moving to detangle from the mess of sheets and limbs.

“No! Don’t go,” He blurts out, jolting forward to catch their wrist before they could move away. They blink at his sudden reaction, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” they say easily, settling back into the bed. This time, Wanderer foregoes the aloofness and moves straight to lay his head on their chest with one ear pressed to where their heart beats.

“Okay. I won’t leave yet.”

That was what he was told, so many times. Every time in the past he heard it—from his mother, his friend, his brother—it was always a lie, but somehow, somehow he believed them when they said it.

“Don’t go…” He murmurs lowly, soft enough that they can barely catch it.

“I won’t,” they say into his hair, soft as a whisper. “I love you.”

I love you. The words were on the edge of his tongue, so close he could taste their sweetness. They were always there, lingering in the back of his throat like something he could never quite swallow down. They were the background of every moment he spent with them, day and night. They were the aftertaste of the dinner he cooked for them, they were the shape of the stitches he used when he mended their clothing; in every action he takes, three words he can’t bring himself to say.

“You don’t have to tell me you love me back,” They kiss the crown of his head. “I already know.”

But one day he’s going to say it back to them.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #— kiss (don’t tell) !#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact fluff #wanderer fluff #wanderer x gn reader #wanderer x gender neutral reader

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darylsdelts · 8 months ago

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Hi! Could you write a Daryl x f.reader hc in the mornings? I feel like slow mornings would be Daryl's favorite time of day, just enjoying his partner without having to think about the day ahead..

P.S: how did you not start writing sooner?? I love how your pretty brain brings our delusions to life lol

I’m gonna do the smaller request’s first so that they don’t pile up because having loads of requests makes me anxious😭 idk why but I’m getting to em all!

Anon!!! I love this so much! I love domestic daddy Daryl so much like yes! Idc what anyone says, he’s sooooo husband! And alsooooo… TYSM! I’m not really a writer😭 I didn’t intend to actually write on here but people started sending full on essays for me to write so why not. I did write some stuff on Wattpad though that I could post here??? If y’all want??? Anywayyyyyssss ily!

I always imagine these sorta things with you and Daryl in a secluded cabin, away from the community. You’re still part of the group but you and Daryl prefer to be alone together.

Living away from the community, Daryl is like a different person, he’s way more relaxed and less on guard. Less irritated by people too.

The sunlight seeps through the cracks in the curtains in the early mornings.

Daryl usually wakes up first but if he doesn’t then you shift closer, resting your chin on his bare chest and admiring his sleeping face.

His hair framing his relaxed face, he looks younger when he’s sleeping, your favourite part is how his rounded nose twitches when he starts to wake up.

As soon as he opens his eyes, you feel his chest vibrate as he hums, bringing his hand up to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout starin’, Hm?”

His lips twitch upward, he fucking loves the mornings when it’s so peaceful and it’s just him and you, like the world doesn’t really exist.

“I think you told me to quit it”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb across your forehead.

Daryl thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, especially when your hair is messy from sleep and you’re in barely any clothes.

There’s no doubt that every morning, his mind drifts to thinking about staying in bed with you all day, worshipping your body and making you feel good.

And that fantasy is almost always thrown out the window when the both of you hear paws enter the room, dog jumping up on the bed, licking at Daryls face.

“Dog! Jesus chri-… yeah, okay okay, good boy”

After getting out of bed, Daryl pulling on just his jeans that sit low on his waist and you in a thin night dress, you both go to the kitchen area.

Daryl feeds dog so he stops whining and then he’ll cook up something he hunted and serve it to you.

You’re greatful for your hunterman, taking such good care of you.

Even after being together all these years, Daryl still gets shy, sitting opposite you whilst eating, barely able to make eye contact.

Some mornings, if it was hot enough, you’d go swim in the lake with dog whilst Daryl would watch over the both of you. He’s not greatly fond of swimming in the lake since he wouldn’t be able to protect you as well as he could from the side.

“Can we go to the lake?” You ask as Daryl takes your plates.

“Ya wanna? Ain’t so hot out today, darlin’”

“I wanna”

He’d roll his eyes, he could never say no to you.

He’d sit on the bank next to the lake, watching you in just your panties and bra, swimming around in the water with dog.

After you get out you’d complain that it’s too cold and he’d bite his tongue, he did tell you so.

He’d wrap you in a towel and leave you shivering whilst he towels dog off.

“Shouldn’ta let ya go in the damn water, yer gon’ get sick”

You’d pout as you shiver, Daryl wraps his arms round you, kissing the top of your hair.

“Let’s get ya inside, warm my girl up”

You have a feeling you know what he means.

This isn’t even really hc’s 😭 full on story I’m sorry but I always get so carried away.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #twd smut

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter Twenty: Friend Or Foe, Part I

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of grief and death (steve is having a hard time and it's my fault), themes of threat

[A/N: Did anyone say they've been needing a writer to return with a buttload of angst and scream-worthy cliffhangers? No? Well, I'm back now so I guess you don't have a choice.]

Friend Or Foe, Part I

He can’t stop replaying that moment in his head.

“I’m gonna turn any minute now.” You place your hands on his cheeks, making sure he was listening to your every word. “And I don’t want my last memory to be crossing back into our home knowing I won’t make it five steps before the virus kills me. Okay? So, you’re gonna go through the gate and you’re not ever gonna look back. Please. Don’t come back for me.”

“I can’t-” He cries and you bring his forehead down to touch yours, nodding.

“I know.” You whisper, leaning forward to leave a feather-light kiss on his lips.

His eyes are still closed when you lean back, studying him one last time.

“Which is why I’m sorry.”

Steve’s eyes snap open just in time to watch your hands find his chest and shove him as hard as you can, his body ripping through the gate faster than he can experience.

His back hits solid concrete, making him groan. It takes a second for him to blink away the dots in his vision, slowly sitting up. He can see your figure clearly, your sad eyes, the smile gracing your lips.

And then the gate starts to sew itself shut.

Your words are stuck on a never-ending loop, the bittersweet memory of your voice floating past his ears every morning he awoke since he lost you. It replays because his subconscious wants to torture him, remind him of everything he could have done but never did.

If he had just opened his eyes... If he had opened his eyes, you wouldn’t be trapped in the Upside Down. If he had opened his eyes, Jonathan Byers would still be alive.

The ceiling he stared at never crushed him like he wanted it to every time he blinked into to the realisation he was a failure. He couldn’t do anything right. Everyone around him would be better off if the murky grey ceiling caved in and buried him under its rubble.

And yet even with all his silent prayers, the building stayed steady, and he was forced to push himself out of bed and face the reality. He messed up, twice. And now everyone else had to pay for it.

Just as he pulled a shirt over his head, a drone of voices could be heard from the living room. He cracks open his door, Hopper’s rough words echoing loud.

“They’re forcing us to leave.”

Steve sobered up fast, quickly and quietly descending the staircase and rounding the corner to a view of, well, everyone. Hopper must have called everyone in for a meeting. Everyone but him.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, ignoring the looks from the Party. They always greeted him with such pity now, sorrow lacing their features like he was a kicked puppy that needed cheering up.

“Just in time.” Hopper greets, running a hand down his face. “The military are expanding the quarantine.”

“When?” Steve crossed his arms, frowning.

“Tomorrow morning.” Hopper sighs and Steve’s heart sinks. “Unfortunately for us, we’re close to the danger zone already. They want us packed up by tonight or…”

“Or?” Nancy prompts. Steve notices the worn expression she tries to mask, another shot at his chest. Losing Jonathan was sucking away her life force. And he did that to her.

“Or they’re removing us with force.” He says grimly, a few scattered mutters filling the silence. “They’ve tried keeping the monsters at bay but it’s a losing battle. I tried arguing, but they’re not looking for opinions. They’re doing a full sweep of the danger zone borders and moving everyone out. Our hands are tied.”

“What if we hide?” Dustin suggests, nodding wildly. His friends nod too, but with less conviction.

“Not that easy.” Hopper tightens his lips. “Our last search attempts for food have been failures. We won’t have enough rations to keep going even if we found a way to avoid the quarantine. The infestation is beyond our control without those gates. We’ll have to… give up.”

His eyes wander down to the map displayed on the table in front of him, staring at the crossed out circles of missed opportunities. The watergates, as the young boy had dubbed. And the pattern you found even when all hope felt lost.

“But we can’t find those gates if we’re not… here.” Dustin deflates as gravity pulls him back down to the suggestion in Hopper’s words. “We won’t find Y/n if we’re not here.”

“We can’t find her anyway.” Robin mutters, folding her arms tighter against her chest. Steve sends a curious look her way, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. He understands why she must be so bitter, losing her best friend like that- her only friend, as she had reminded him before. But he didn’t expect her to be this cold, even if it’s taking longer to find you than anticipated.

“I’m going to give the search one more shot.” Hopper announces, running a hand down his face. He clearly hadn’t slept, tone too low, his body slumping against the table as he fought against exhaustion. “If there are no rations left for us, we’ll have to pack up and leave with the rest of them. I can lead the search if no one wants to-”

“I’ll do it.” Steve steps forward, surprised expressions adorning everyone’s faces. Steve hadn’t left the house since they lost Jonathan, and he had made no suggestion until now that he was ready to do that.

“Kid-” Hopper begins with a sigh, but Steve shakes his head.

“It’s supposed to be my turn anyway.” She shrugs, ignoring his bubbling fits of anxiety growing in his chest. “No point sending too many people out in case it is a lost cause.”

“You can’t go alone.” He responds, brows furrowed. He knew better than to argue with him when they were running out of time. “That’s the rule.”

Steve mentally sighs. Who would want to go with him? The last time he led a mission, he fucked it all up.

“I’ll go.”

He grits his teeth. Great.

Billy emerges from the shadowed corner he had watched from, smirking at Steve as he approaches the table.

“I’ve been out there more than anyone, I know how to get into the stores undetected.” He practically boasts. Steve wanted to groan, a sickly feeling in his stomach when Hopper agrees without reservation. Does he know what Billy did to them last year?

“That’s settled then. You two head off when you’re ready. I think… I think I’m gonna head back up and keep searching.” The last part was mumbled under his breath as Hopper leaves the table and trudges back up the stairs. Steve stares almost mournfully after him. He was in so much pain and, even so, he would never show it.

Like father, like daughter.

“Ready when you are, buttercup.” Billy grins, folding his arms.

Steve bit his tongue, glancing over at a punchable face if he ever saw one. “Sure.”

He starts searching for a bag when a hand is thrust into his view, the very object hanging from their fingers.

“Take mine.” Nancy offers, and he takes it with a timid smile.

Since the mission, Nancy has barely uttered 5 words to him. Well, 7 now, which Steve thinks he should be grateful for. After all, if it had been Nancy searching for Jonathan, if it had been you caught in the crossfires of shapeshifters because Nancy wasn’t focused, would he have ever talked to her again?

“Thanks.” He says, and she walks away without so much as a second glance, heading for the staircase. She’s been more adamant on spending time with Will than he has been lately.

“Good luck.” Dustin calls when he reaches the door, Billy behind him.

“Don’t need it.” Billy responds, and Dustin purses his lips.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” He mutters and Billy frowns.

“What did you say?” He growls.

“I said, break a leg!” Dustin throws two thumbs up, grinning.

“And an arm.” Max whispers, and Lucas stifles his giggles.

“Whatever.” Billy swings open the door and steps out without so much as a goodbye. Although, Steve wondered who he’d be needing to pay his farewells too. The only person who seems to have ever shown interest in his care was, well, you.

“I’ll see you later.” Steve smiles at Dustin, the boy throwing out a salute that made him smile.

Even if Steve was stuck with his worst enemy, at least he felt like he was finally contributing something. Something Dustin could be proud of.

Maybe even something that could help find you.

This was a terrible idea.

They were an hour into their search and had been attacked twice. Once by a stray demodog, another by an infected – or rather, a demoperson as Dustin reminded them at every opportunity. Steve thought calling them infected felt more humane, even if a little on-the-nose. After all, they weren’t born like that.

On both attacks, it was made painstakingly clear that Billy didn’t care if Steve lived or died.

“What the hell, man?” Steve pants, planting his boot on the demodog’s back as he pulled his bat free from its flesh.

Billy was leant against a tree, arms folded as he watched with an amused grin. He had stayed that way even when Steve was struggling against the surprise attack. The demodogs were becoming more frequent, which could only mean a pack was nearby.

“You couldn’t have helped?!” Steve stresses, glaring at him.

Billy only shrugs, looping his shotgun back onto his shoulder. “We only shoot for emergencies, right? Don’t wanna alert the whole freak town that we’re here.”

“Right.” Steve grits his teeth, adjusting his backpack. “You always have an excuse, huh?”

“It’s called having a brain, pretty boy.” Billy smirks, nodding to his left. “This way should be clear. It’ll lead us straight past the Radio Shack and to the General Store. We didn’t make it this far last time so maybe we’ll get lucky.”

He doesn’t wait for Steve’s approval, gripping the strap of the shotgun and heading back down the road. Steve considered letting him go by himself, see how amusing he finds it when no one is helping him. But then he remembered he wasn’t an asshole, so he takes a breath and follows him.

When Steve saw the Radio Shack building, his whole body felt like it was in fight or flight. It looked so similar.

It was like he was still in the Upside Down, the vines coiling around the structure like a bad memory. It was tainted, his memory. Because as he looked at something that should feel terrifying, something that should make his heart beat out of his chest and wash a wave of dread over his head, he was utterly fixated by the idea that you could be in there, on the other side, waiting for him to find you.

“Harrington.” Billy snaps him out of his trance. Steve shakes his head. He felt like he was going crazy.

But what if he wasn’t? What if he was right? If he squinted his eyes, he could just force the image of someone walking around in there, a shadow that looked like yours. Maybe...

“She won’t be there.”

Steve pauses. He looks beside him but Billy isn’t standing there. He was stood just outside of the building, looking in.

“What?” Steve frowns. He doesn’t think he’s seen him look so… forlorn.

“Y/n.” He says softly, meeting Steve’s eyes and walking away from the store. “She would have answered the radio calls by now.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s dead.” Steve replies, shoulders tensing.

“Didn’t say that.” He shrugs, tilting his head. “But none of us really know. Apart from you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re the last one to see her before you’re conveniently safe on the other side.” He clicks his tongue. “I overheard Hopper talking to the Byers mom when you got back. He said you were muttering something the entire way home. Something about monsters.”

“Probably.” Steve shrugs, swallowing his nerves. “It wasn’t easy getting to the motel. We almost didn’t make it.”

“Almost.” Billy scoffs, chuckling darkly. “Tell me, Harrington… Why didn’t Y/n cross the gate with you?”

Steve shakes his head. “I-”

“You just said you almost didn’t make it. So did she almost not make it?”

“We got separated.” He says, gripping his bat tightly. “I watched the gate close before she made it through. She’s alive.”

Billy narrows his eyes, assessing the way Steve is trying not to react to his empty suggestions. He isn’t giving up on his story, and even Billy can tell Steve truly believes you’re still alive.

“Look, if you’re done being an asshole, how about we find some food so our friends don’t starve to death.”

“Your friends.” Billy corrects. “And don’t think everyone is buying your little story. I know you’re hiding something from us.”

“Just forget it, man.” Steve was turning around now, clenching his jaw.

“Oh come on, you really expect me to believe you passed through the gate without making sure she was there first? You always had that fake chivalry act going for you, don’t tell me you gave it up just to save your own ass.” Billy sneers, walking closer to him. “No wonder everyone’s been avoiding you lately, you couldn’t even bring back the one person they give a shit about-”

“Shut up!” Steve yells at him, a white-knuckled grip on his bloodied bat, “I don’t need you reminding me of how I messed up, okay?! I relive that moment every fucking day of my life and it hurts every single time!”

Billy seems surprised for once, eyes drifting to the left. He follows his gaze, startled by his own hand holding his weapon as if ready for a strike. He unclenches his jaw, letting his arm rest back down by his side and backing away, choosing not to comment on his sudden display of intended violence.

“Does the chief know you’re in love with his daughter?”

He pauses for a moment, wondering if he should answer. He bites his tongue. It was none of his fucking business.

When they finally arrive at their destination, Steve had never seen the General Store so empty in his life.

It was usually filled with everything you could possibly want. Well, as much as a small town in Indiana could use, anyway. From food, to tools, to craft supplies, the place was always packed to the brim and seemingly never ran out of stock. But this time, it was cleaned out.

A few stray boxes of cardboard littered the floor, the shelves bare of any supplies they desperately needed. They’re usual strike of bad luck was a lightning bolt to their last chance of saving Hawkins.

“I’m gonna check the back.” Billy announces, charging to the back door. Steve didn’t bother going with him; he already knew he wouldn’t find anything.

He remembers the Upside Down in this moment. The concerning lack of any hunger or thirst never crossing your minds as you wandered from place to place, chasing a ghost that never existed. When he had left, it had all come crashing down on him like a wave of sickness, restricting him to his bed until he didn’t feel weak anymore. Physically, at least.

He wondered how you were right now. Were you scared? Were you safe? Had the virus continued spreading? He hated he couldn’t see or hear you, that you weren’t here to satisfy his anxiety. He even hated that he needed you so much, the girl he couldn’t stand a year ago and now the girl he couldn’t stand to lose.

Goosebumps start to line his skin, prickling at his arms. It was probably a breeze of cold air, but Steve had remembered Joyce’s tales of feeling her son’s presence when he was on the other side. He kept imagining it was you beside him, letting him know you were okay.

Steve looks out of the window, heart leaping into his throat as he catches his reflection. It wasn’t his. A pale face, hollow and scorched at the sides, glared back at him, a tilted head of curiousness. When Steve blinks, he sees himself again, startled brown eyes and a messy mane of hair, nothing like the man he saw before.

“Nothin’ out back.” Billy’s voice drones back into the room, a hand running through his mane of hair. “You find anything?”

“Uh…” Steve takes another glance at the window, wondering if he could catch sight of the ghost haunting him. But with his own face staring back, he had to assume his sleepless nights had caught up with him. “No. Nothing.”

“Fuck.” Billy kicks an empty packet with his boot. “I knew this would’ve been the first place to be emptied.”

Steve takes another look around. He takes note of the shelves, moving closer. Dust was settled on the surfaces, drawing lines around bare shapes of cleaner wood and metal. He runs his finger across the lighter spaces, nothing clinging to his skin.

“Only recently…” He mutters, but Billy picks up on it in the stark silence.

“You saying someone got here before us? Like right before us?”

“Look around. The place is spotless. The shelves might be dusty but there’s a clean space where stuff has been taken. It can’t have been more than a few days since someone else was here.”

“Huh.” Billy raises an eyebrow. “I guess we’re not the only ones camping out in the apocalypse.”

A shatter of glass echoed from outside the building, startling them into their fighting stances. Steve’s bat was clenched in his fists as soon as the peaceful silence was broken, and the shotgun had slid into Billy’s arms once the glass hit the floor. They both stared out of the murky windows, an intense concentration on their faces.

“We hit nightfall.” Steve grits his teeth, risking a look to Billy. The boy’s expression was that of the same, eyebrows furrowed. They shouldn’t have been here this long.

“Well, shit.” Billy starts backing up to the doors, eyes glued to the darkening sky. “I guess we better find camp for the night. Preferably somewhere I’m not gonna get eaten.”

“The library.” Steve sniffs, adjusting his posture to face his companion. “It’s the only building left with a solid structure. I say we barricade ourselves in for the night and move out as soon as we can.”

“Nice to see you can use your brain, Harrington.” Billy says, gently opening the door with his shoulder and peering out. “We’re clear.”

As they leave the store, Steve feels like someone is watching them, his eyes constantly glancing back to the Radio Shack until it was far out of sight, an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something didn’t feel right but, then again, it hadn’t felt right for a long time.

Before they had even reached the library on steady footing, a clash of lightning burns the night sky into a crimson red, thunder rolling through the dark clouds. Their quiet footsteps splashed into puddles of rain, wet soaking their clothes as a storm started to roll in. The change in weather was a curse and a blessing; it restricted their safety of escape, but heightened their chances of evading monsters. After all, how could they stalk their prey when every sense was overwhelmed by the fury of mother nature?

For once, Steve felt like he made the right call. The library was still standing tall, vines slithered up the sides but weren’t quite strong enough to break the stone. The inside was empty, a few bookcases fallen and pages scattered, no sign of life in sight.

“I’ll take first watch.” Steve says, propping himself up against the desk, bat laid across his lap.

Billy didn’t object, setting down his gear and adjusting the dusty chair pillows they had pulled from the study hall into a makeshift bed behind the counter. He didn’t utter a word when he laid down, and Steve’s head fell back against the wood. As it did, he noticed something etched into the side of the wood from the corner of his eye, twisting his body to glance at it. ‘Save us’, it said. He gulped. Considering how empty the place was, it seems like it was too late for whoever wrote that message.

His eyes return to staring down the double doors like the cabinets they had dragged over wouldn’t hold. They didn’t last time he was in this position. And this time he wasn’t sure there was a single closet he could hide himself in. He just had to make sure he kept his eyes open. If he kept his eyes open, nothing bad could happen.

He sat there staring at the doors for hours, fingers mindlessly tapping against the handle of his bat until Billy’s rough voice called out behind him, alerting him that his shift was over. Steve’s eyes were heavy before he had even swapped places with him, head resting against the firm fabric on the floor. He wasn’t sure he would sleep, but his body overpowered his mind, pulling his subconscious elsewhere...

“Hey, we can get out through the window. Wasn’t rocket science, but I’m still a genius.”

He turns back to look at you over his shoulder, smiling. You’re currently near the far corner, your back facing him. You don’t seem to have heard him, breathing in odd intervals as you stare down at your hands.

“Y/n.” He tries again, louder. Your head twitches. Steve releases the latch on the window, fear flooding his entire body. He slowly steps away from the window, his eyes permanently glued to the back of your head, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

Trying again, his voice cracks under the pressure of speaking your name like it would warp the vicious reality he was living in.

“Y/n?”

You snap your head to him, and the colour drains from his face.

“No…”

He lost you.

The world bled to grey as tears start trailing from his eyes, staring into yours. Except, they weren’t yours. They were darker, soulless. Black blood was dripping from your chin, staining your lips.

“Don’t do this.” He begs, unable to find the force to speak louder than a whisper. “Y/n, please. It’s not- I can’t hurt you. You know I can’t hurt you. Y/n...”

You snarled at him this time, your mannerisms unnerving. It wasn’t you anymore...

You suddenly lunge at him and he instinctively dives for his bag, rolling away from your attack in the last second. He unzips it, staring down. He couldn’t do this.

Snarls and hisses spit from your mouth as you scramble up from the floor, blinking rapidly as you search in the dark.

Click.

Your whole body snaps to him in one sharp movement. With a shaking hand, he stares directly into your eyes.

“Y/n, please.” He sobs, “Please, you have to be in there.”

Not even the mournful pressure against his chest felt as heavy as the gun in his hand, tears rolling down his face.

“It’s me.” He tries again, hoping his voice could break you free from the virus. “It’s me. Steve. Remember?”

He should have known hope was never his friend. A voice completely alien to you rips out a screech from your throat, and hell comes to bludgeon him with the worst it had to offer.

Steve watches in horror as the skin starts peeling from your face, tearing it into pieces like a flower and its petals. Like a demogorgon.

It was too late. You weren’t coming back to him.

You run at him, sharp teeth bared, mind forever gone.

Steve’s eyes shut and he pulls the trigger, a sob echoing past his lips when the sound of your body hitting the floor fills the basement with regret. He doesn’t dare open his eyes, holding his breath.

His hands are shaking, heartbeat bursting into his eardrums. Steve starts to realise it’s a dream, that he had already lived this moment, that none of it had ever been real. It’s not real…

Even with his nerves on fire, he lowers the gun, hands feeling lighter the longer he remembers this never happened. He can open his eyes. He can force the image of your smiling face into his dream. He can make this nightmare disappear.

He opens his eyes.

And stares into the milky white pupils of a scorched face.

“Find her”

Steve jolts himself awake, blinking against the sudden light blaring through the windows. His heart was thumping out of his chest, the image of the ghost’s eyes burned into his brain. But it wasn’t the dream that startled him out of his sleep.

He hears Billy yelling, his instinct reaching for the bat at his side before it suddenly swoops out of view and a figure blocks his exit. When he turns his head to the looming shadow, his breath hitches, leaning back against the desk.

He wasn’t particularly fond of being greeted with a spear to his face.

It was held by someone in a mask, a brief flashback to his time in the tunnels suddenly thrown into his mind. The air, the kids had expressed. That was before any of them knew it wasn’t toxic. He took a quick glance to his side, noting the person currently pointing a matching spear at Billy, too, his shotgun kicked far out of his reach.

It was two against two. They could take them.

The door from the study opens and two more people walk out, discussing something under their breaths. His heart drops, jaw clenched in silent desperation. Fuck. He should have known nothing was ever easy.

When the others get closer, a new reason for his despair came to light, eyebrows furrowed when one of the voices droned on and on about their ‘key observation’.

He recognised that voice.

“Holy shit.” They laugh, pulling off their mask. Steve feels his stomach twist. “As I live and breathe, is that you, Harrington?”

Steve blinks. “Tommy?”

Lo and behold, Tommy Hagan stood in front of Steve with that bastard smile on his face and a dim light in his eyes. His hair had grown out to now brush against his shoulders, a faint smudge of dirt outlining where his goggles had been resting against his face. His clothes weren’t unusual to his high school attire, but it was covered in grime and faint smudges of blood. It was very clear that he had, much to Steve’s silent disappointment, survived the apocalypse. And he wasn’t alone.

“Wait, did you say Harrington?” The person beside him questions, head recoiling. It was a girl’s voice, sweet enough but hoarse around the edges, as if she hadn’t been drinking enough water. She turns her head to Steve before pausing. “You said he died.”

“He did!” Tommy exclaims, but the girl simply extends her arm in his direction as evidence that he was, in fact, not dead. “Okay, so I thought he died. Not my fault I got bad intel.”

The girl sighs, ready to argue.

“Oh my god, who cares if he’s dead or not, what the hell are we gonna do?” Another female voice, this time it sounded a little more mature. She currently had her spear pointed at Billy’s chest, the boy’s face twisting with some sort of humiliation at the realisation a girl had managed to disarm him. “And for fuck’s sake, put your mask back on, do you want to get ill?!”

“The air’s safe.” Steve finds himself speaking, all heads turning to him. “I mean, it’s not natural at all but it doesn’t make you sick. Getting bit makes you sick, is what I mean. If you’re, uh, talking about getting infected and stuff.”

“Are we really going to stand here all day?” She turns to the last person in the room, ignoring Steve and waiting for an answer.

This person had their spear hovering in front of Steve’s face, the pole shaking slightly as if they had never done this before. He doesn’t suppose they would have; they were just regular teens in a small town before the apocalypse started. Everyone had to adapt.

“I say we just spear them and get the hell out of here.” Tommy suggests and the girl beside him gasps. Steve, however, wasn’t so surprised. “What?”

“We can’t kill them. We’ve never killed anyone.”

“Fine, let’s just knock them out.”

“Shut up, Tommy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” The other girl chimes in, and Steve could almost laugh. Even in an end of world situation, nobody wanted to be around Tommy H.

“I don’t-” Tommy huffs, shaking his head. “Who the hell saved you from a demon attack, huh?”

“And who got you new clothes when you shit yourself from the demon attack?” She retorts, the last words Steve manages to catch before they’re in a full blown argument.

“Hey!”

The person in front of him finally spoke, lowering their spear and stepping back. A male voice had ordered from behind the mask and, as he turned to his friends, Steve noticed a few stray curls peaking out from the collar of his jacket.

“No one is killing anyone, and we’re definitely not leaving them here.” He says, and the others seem to listen. He was their leader, Steve realised, and his word seemed to be final. The boy turns to him, tilting his head. “Are you serious about the air? It’s not lethal?”

“I wouldn’t be alive if it was.” Steve replies, and the boy sighs. He nods to the others, and they all lower their weapons.

“Sorry about this, we thought you were here to steal our stuff.” The boy apologises.

“I’m guessing you’re the ones that raided the store.” Steve says, accepting the hand extended to him and pulls himself back onto his feet.

“We gotta eat.” Tommy states, turning his head and widening his eyes. “Woah, Billy-boy! I almost didn’t recognise you, what with the whole being beaten by a girl thing.”

“Shut it.” Billy snaps, and the girl in question laughs.

“If it helps, you didn’t make it easy.” She offers before reaching behind her head to untie her mask, letting it fall into her hand and pushing her goggles to her head. “I’m Heather, by the way. I think we’ve met.”

Billy’s eyebrow raises, but he simply nods, walking over to retrieve his shotgun before any more of his dignity left.

“That’s Chrissy.” Heather introduces the other girl, her mask and goggles also secured around her neck now. Steve thinks he saw her in school before, but she was definitely younger, her wide eyes holding an innocence Steve hadn’t had for a long time.

The boy beside him also strips himself of his face coverings, resting the goggles in his messy mane of curled brown hair and smirking at the surprised look on Steve’s face. He throws his spear into his other hand, extending his free glove as an introduction that Steve most certainly didn’t need.

“And I’m Eddie.” He grins, relishing the reveal. “Although, you already knew that. Right, King Steve?”

Chapter Twenty One: Friends Or Foes, Part II coming soon...

[A/N: *once again in an aloneinthehellfire fic, eddie munson enters the arena*]

taglist: @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .

@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .

@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady . @pansexualhoor .

@kitdjarin1 . @chiliwhore .

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things reader insert #gates of hell #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #st2 #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #apocalypse au #stranger things au #stranger things fanfic

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themotherofhorses · 2 years ago

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Vic!! I have a request pretty pls hehehe,

Creepy dark! Aemond forcing his way with fem!reader as she sleeps after stalking him for many moons? PWEASEEE

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.

pairing: soft but dark!aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

warnings: explicit language. nsfw smut. slight breeding kink towards the end. consented abduction. aemond is (as usual) obsessive and possessive but is actually kinda a sweetheart in this.

notes: ok so small thing: i kinda put my own twist to this request, because this sort of idea has lived in my head RENT FREE since forevvaaa. hope u enjoy it :)

masterlist

Dragonstone was quiet when arrived, the sea tide calm and peaceful.

Aemond Targaryen could not remember the last time he stepped foot in the castle, if he ever did at all, having spent the entirety of his life behind the bronze doors of the Red Keep. He did not care for the damned island, nor did he hold any love for its people, but his twentieth nameday was fast approaching, and his mother was insisting more and more that he take a wife soon.

“Now, where will you be,” he mumbles to himself as he rips off his riding gloves and tucks them into his belt.

The castle hallways were without light, and no houseguards stood afoot. Aemond smirks. It would be much easier for him to find you, tucked away in your own chamber.

Your personal chamber was nicely furnished, in the colors and style of your shared noble house, and had an aura belonging only to a Targaryen princess. Thick wool carpets covered the floor instead of harsh black stone, and your windows were cracked open just a little, with pretty drapes swaying from the light ocean breeze. The walls were hung with different tapestries, all of horses and dragons, and the doors were flanked by Valyrian sphinxes.

And to the corner was your bed, where you, his niece, lay atop, fast asleep.

Aemond wills his heart to continue beating, and for his cock to behave.

He has not laid eyes on you in almost a full decade, ten years too long for him. Both your parents whisked you away to Dragonstone when you were still a child, soft-faced and in the mid of girlhood.

They refused his mother’s offer for a betrothal between the two of you, and broke his heart to the tiniest of pieces that he wondered if they were still scattered around the Keep. But that was so many moons ago, and time slipped by him.

“Gods be good,” Aemond whispers, moving closer.

What has happened to that little girl, that kid niece of his? In her place sleeps a living goddess, too lovely for mankind. You’ve grown beautiful, a mirror image to your mother, his eldest sister. He bends to kiss your bare shoulder- just a simple and tiny kiss- and you stir in your sleep. It is cute, he admits, but he also can not wait another second longer.

Only the gods above know how much he’s wanted you.

With a hard yank, Aemond draws back the bedsheet covers, causing you to jolt up from the bed. You look around, confused and scared and still half-asleep, purple eyes clouding from drowsiness. In front of you sits a stranger, a man- silver-haired and cloaked in black riding leather. Across his eye, an eyepatch.

Your heart quickens at the sight. “Aemond…?” you call out, unsure.

He smiles, teeth and all. “You do not know how happy it makes me to know you are still able to recognize me, my niece. After all, it has been awhile- ten years, has it not?”

You shrug, trying to wipe the sleep away from your eyes. “What…what are you doing here?” you ask, while patting down the bed, looking for the sheets to cover your chest. “Should you not be at King’s Landing? Why are you here?” Your eyes grow as wide as a dinner plate as you soon add, “Oh no, has something happened? Is it my grandfather?”

But Aemond scoots closer, bringing his face to yours. “Do not fret, nice. I’m here on my own wishes,” and he twirls a thin strand of silver hair around his finger, humming as he watches it fall back around your shoulder. In that sheer Dornish nightgown, you look good enough to eat, and the princeling is feeling beyond ravenous.

“I’m here to collect a debt.”

Lucerys…you think, a sinking feeling in your chest. His stolen eye, that night on Driftmark…

Ten years and Aemond still seeks revenge.

“No,” Aemond says, shaking his head. He moves even closer, grabbing at your shoulders. His palms are rough and callous. “I would dare not hurt you. Anyone but you. You…” he sighs, “-you were promised to me, back when we were children. You were meant to be my wife, and they stole you from me. The only good fucking thing in my life, and it was taken away…”

He studies you, his eye running across your face, down your neck and to your chest.

That Dornish nightgown clings loose to your body, and he can see your nipples perk against the fabric. It sends blood rushing between his thighs. “Tell me, niece, what did I do to deserve that?”

“Aemond…”

“No!” he hisses, tightening his grip on you. “No! You have not the slightest idea of the fucking torture I’ve endured these years. The nights I stayed up, begging to the gods that I might have you. I thought…maybe if they heard my pleas, saw my faith, they would…but no. Ten years, and not a single glimpse of you.” Your breath hitches when he meets your gaze, “I dreamt of you, every damned night. Fought the urges to fly over and collect you from here…”

You shake your head. “Aemond…” you say, softly. “I’m betrothed to another, this cannot be.” You press your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch, and kiss his forehead. “I have missed you greatly, uncle, but it has been years! So many years. I’m to be married soon.” You pull back, “It is best if you return home, and start finding a lady of your own choosing.”

Aemond sighs, and inside his chest, he feels his heart being ripped apart again.

“You are right, my dearest niece. My sincerest apologies for waking you up, it was quite wrong of me. I shall see myself out,” and he kisses your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish you all the luck in your marriage, and may your husband love and appreciate you till the dying days of his damned life.”

You smile at him, though a bit sad now. “Thank you, uncle. To you as well.”

The princeling turns to leave, and you sit up watching as he makes his way to your door, before sinking back into your bed. “Goodbye, Aemond,” you call out, one final time before your eyes close, failing to see him pause and turn around to look at you.

What was he doing? Foolish man, he thinks. Foolish, stupid man!

Was it in his nature to admit defeat so easily, and to some unnamed wastrel cunt of a man? No. Throughout his life, Aemond suffered nothing but tremendous losses, while being denied the goodness and fairness that a child should’ve had. His lips pucker at the thought.

You were right there, close enough for him to finally claim.

And so he did.

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Aemond tuts next to your ear, a heavy arm slung over your naked breasts as he holds you as close to his chest as possible. It feels as if he is frightened to let you go, worried you would disappear before his very eye, with another ten years slipping by until he finds you again.

His other hand lies between your trembling thighs, fingering you with such an intensity and speed that it leaves you utterly ruined and in tears. “Aemond…” you hiccup, nibbling at your bottom lip as he groans. “Fuck! You sound so good when you say my name like that. Gods be good, you are wet. Absolutely soaking my fingers. Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks, using his thumb to rub at your clit. “Yeah…it does, doesn’t it?”

You sniffle, fat tears streaking down both cheeks as you nod.

Oh, it feels good. So good, but so wrong as well.

You were to be married in less than a fortnight, to a highborn lord of House Stark, handsome and kind. How would you explain this to him? Or to your parents, who proposed the marriage between you two? How would you tell them that you were ruined? And it was your uncle’s fault.

“Please, Aemond…”

Aemond grabs at your jaw, cradling it in his hand before pulling it close to his face. “Shhh, it will be alright, my love. Do not fret. You will be okay, just give in,” he whispers, quickening his fingers as he fucks them into you, curling two to hit your sweet spot. You almost scream, so overcome with pleasure that it hurts. “This is where you are meant to be, darling, make no mistake in believing that. My bride, my love.”

My woman, he thinks gleefully, watching how your face scrunches up. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth press together in a tight line, and it is the most beautiful sight.

My woman, made for me. Made for my love and protection and seed…

Goosebumps prickle along your arms as wet sounds echo across the chamber, followed by a strew of whimpers and moans. It sounds so dirty, so sinful and wrong that you pray to whichever god was listening in that no one would overhear such, especially your parents and siblings. Your father would have Aemond’s head, no doubt, and your older brother might rob him of his only other good eye.

“Oh, fuck…” you moan, flinging your head back, “-don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

A minute or so later, your vision blackens, the room spins, and your jaw slacks as you cum plenty around his fingers, all with such a high-pitched shriek that Aemond slaps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. “What did I say? Stay quiet!” he hisses before chuckling, smearing the mess around your folds while you make an attempt to catch your breath. “Very good, my love. You did so well for me.”

He brings a finger to his mouth, to suck at the taste. “Your taste is heavenly,” he moans, swirling his tongue around it. He then brings two to your mouth, swiping at the tiny bit of drool pooling before stuffing them in. “Suck. Taste yourself now.”

“Dirty girl,” Aemond hums, a smirk curving on his lips as he watches the way you lick and suck at his fingers. “You are digging a grave too deep to escape, darling.”

Ruin me, you want to say. If I’m to die, I rather it be in your hands than anyone else’s…

He lays you back down on the bed next, making sure your head rests comfortably against the pillows. Ten years, Aemond reminds himself. Ten fucking years. He can feel his resolve slowly weakening by the second. You’re too beautiful, too soft and womanly and perfect for him. Every fantasy he dreamt up during boyhood never claim as close as to this. “I dreamt of this for fucking years,” he admits while kissing your pink and pouty lips. “All the possible ways to take you, to fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes his cock inside you. It is painful- undeniably painful- yet he swallows every cry and wince and moan that you give. Your fingernails dig into his skin from the terrible pain- the stretch and the sting and the weird feeling growing deep within your tummy.

“It is too much…!” you whimper against his lips. “Hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, darling, it is your first time. Every woman hurts when a man takes her first blood. But you can take it.”

“No,” you whine, trying to shove him away. “No, Aemond, it hurts too much-” But Aemond only kisses your temple, sweet and gentle and lovingly, while rocking his hips against yours. “It’ll feel so good soon, my love, trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, not my precious and sweet girl,” he coos, leaning to rub your noses together, “-my brave girl.”

Ten years.

He could not stop, even if he wished to. No, not now that he finally has you, underneath his body and wet and ripe for his seed.

“I’ll give you our child,” he mutters beside your lips as he pinches your nipple between two fingers and keeps his thrusts hard, deep, and fast. All of it makes your face twist in a soft gasp, your body tightening as you feel that thick rush of pleasure from before, right before you creamed over his fingers.

“Take my seed and have our child. I promise to take you back to King’s Landing and marry you," he vows through ragged breaths, "and spend the rest of our lives making up for those ten years.”

“Aemond,” you pant, clutching onto his shoulders and dragging his face down for a kiss. His skin is sweaty and flushed, and he has never appeared so beautiful before. You love him. You love him so much, how did you spend ten years without seeing him? It makes no sense. You understand his woes now, clear as day, and you want to rid of them forever.

“I love you! I love you, I love you, make me your wife, please. Please!”

He feels your cunt tightening around his cock, and he is ready to give you everything: his heart, his soul, and his seed.

Come the morning, his son will be swelling within your belly, and he will have you seated atop Vhagar, flying back to the Keep to make you his wife, in both the eyes of the gods and the laws of the land.

The next day, at dawning, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s only daughter does not join her family to break fast together. Her three half-brothers and two half-sisters raise eyebrows as they munch quietly on their meals but keep silent, all until little Joffrey asks where his older sister might be. Rhaenyra does not know, and neither do the houseguards, the men of the small council, and the maesters, and it worries her greatly.

Her husband, though, is quick to remind her that the princess- ever their trueborn child- enjoys morning rides on dragonback. “Give her a few hours and she will surely return with a new story to tell us,” Daemon says, while sipping on his wine.

But a few hours turn into the rest of the day, and soon evening creeps by.

A raven arrives from King’s Landing, bearing the family a note:

“I’ve taken what was owed to me. Such a pity you all forgot that what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #request #vic writes 🧸

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