#walk softly stranger
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passed-out-real · 2 years ago
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Alida Valli Filmography Part 1
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Schoolgirl Diary (1941)
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Catene invisibili (1942)
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We the Living (1942)
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The Paradine Case (1947)
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The Miracle of the Bells (1948)
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The Third Man (1949)
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The White Tower (1950)
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Walk Softly, Stranger (1950)
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Siamo donne (1953)
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Senso (1954)
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schlock-luster-video · 11 days ago
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On November 4, 1950, Walk Softly Stranger debuted in the United States.
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sirbogarde · 2 years ago
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This has to be one of the funniest Eddie outros I've ever seen. Me and my fam were losing it watching this because he points out everything we had just pointed out. It's 10000% funnier if you've just seen the movie
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septemberlikeastorm · 3 months ago
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this man said "i need a drink" & proceeded to craft the the most sex & the city-coded poison cocktail ever, so from cascade ocean wave blues come i give you:
Osha ducks her head to deposit the straw back in her glass, and he very carefully stores away the image of the pink flash of her tongue. “I suppose you should show off a little, just to salvage your supposedly fearsome reputation, since you’re a coward who refuses to do shots with me.”
He’d gotten a scant pour of liquor, and nurses it like a grudge. “I’ve learned better,” he tells her while wiping his hands off, “than to let my guard down around others.”
She regards him in silence, clearly trying to gauge whether his even tone is one of mild reproach.
It’s not—she is perfectly safe to let her guard down precisely because he is there to guard her—and so he adds gently, “I also don’t like straight liquor, but the only mixers they have are dishwater and cooking oil, and I figure I’m consuming enough oil as it is.” To punctuate his point, he offers her a lump of unidentifiable fried food.
 “I told you, no way am I eating that, it’s as greasy as you were back in that apothecary on Olega.”
“Greasy is a strong word. I was going for more of a windswept, ruggedly handsome look.” He fights not to smile at the face she makes, and allows, “I may have overemphasized the rugged aspect.”
“You were gross,” she informs him with what he feels is entirely too much glee, kicking her dangling feet and taking another long sip of her drink, slurping when she gets down to the dregs. It shouldn’t be endearing.
It is.
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leaderwonim · 4 months ago
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❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.
genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff
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“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”
“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.
The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.
The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.
You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.
“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.
“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”
“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.
The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.
Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.
You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.
Then, all goes black.
For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.
It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.
When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.
That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.
❀﹐
BLEEP. BLEEP.
Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.
“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”
You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.
“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.
That was besides the point, though.
“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”
“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”
The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”
“Us two?” You question.
“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”
Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?
“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”
Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."
The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”
The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.
“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”
You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”
He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”
You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?
“What did you get for breakfast?”
Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.
“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”
“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”
You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”
You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.
You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.
Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.
“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”
You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”
“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.
“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”
The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.
❀﹐
The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.
You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.
“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.
“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.
“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”
Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.
“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”
“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”
Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.
“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.
“I’d love to, actually.”
And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.
“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.
“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”
Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”
That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.
“You look nice today.”
“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”
You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”
You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.
“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.
“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”
“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”
At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!
“Ah, mine was similar.”
Nice save Y/N.
Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.
“Come sit with me.”
You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.
Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.
“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”
“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”
“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”
“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”
“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”
Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.
“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”
“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”
“Really? What was it?”
You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?
“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.
“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”
You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
❀﹐
“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”
“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”
You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.
“Thanks Hoonie.”
“Hoonie?”
Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”
“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”
You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”
The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.
You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.
When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.
“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”
“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”
He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.
With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.
“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.
“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”
Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.
“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.
“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”
“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”
“Yes ma’am!”
❀﹐
You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.
Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.
There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?
“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.
“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”
“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.
Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.
"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.
Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."
A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.
"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"
The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.
"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.
"Huh?"
"You zoned out for a bit."
He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."
"Who?"
"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."
You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.
"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."
You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."
"Yah!"
❀﹐
"Is it weird?"
"Hm?"
It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.
"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"
You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."
"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"
Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.
Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.
He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.
When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.
"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."
"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."
"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."
"Sunghoon."
"Hm?"
"I love you."
He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."
❀﹐
"What?" You say flabbergasted.
The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.
"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"
"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.
"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."
"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.
"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."
That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.
"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."
"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.
"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.
"Yes mom, I'm sure."
The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.
"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.
"Yes Jungwon?"
"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."
You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."
You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."
"I love you too."
❀﹐
"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."
You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."
He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."
"I can't believe it either."
"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."
You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.
"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.
"Hey Y/N?"
You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"
"I'm glad I married you."
Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.
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coconutdays · 4 months ago
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consume
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s. in a world of ghouls and humans, you've got a crush on a really hot guy with tattoos, but that doesn't mean he's a ghoul right?
w.c. 5.9k
w. fem! reader, ghoul!sukuna! x reader , fluff!, smut!, cannibalism!, gore!
a/n: this is a continuance on this thought of mine :)I just wrote this to get this out of my system :/ don't think I cooked as I usually do! but feel free to indulge in ghoul sukuna to at least scratch the itch.
"is that him y/n?" your friend's eyes widen and she grabs you by the shoulders, staring into the void of your soul "go up to him. now."
you came for drinks with your friends just a couple minutes ago. and you were so unaware until now, that across from you is the random hot guy you always see on your way home.
your friend, the one bolstering you to go up to him, has heard of this crush. considering you can't spend a day without talking about the hotness of this man.
"I-I, " you start to stutter, "I shouldn't. I see him all the time around the neighborhood and he's never so much as bat an eye at me or acknowledged my presence."
"and I do not care," she huffs, turning you around and beginning to push you in his direction at the bar, "no guy is capable of rejecting your beauty when its waved right in front of their face."
you hear her huffing and can probably make out how flushed her cheeks are from going against your planted feet on the ground, scared to go up to the man nearing you, even though its you coming closer. you feel your heartbeat quicken by at least 50 beats and the adrenaline from such a simple act is rushing through your veins.
until you're there. and he's doesn't even move to face you, his eyes just dart to you.
"hi." you manage to choke out.
he smells like like leather and stone cold vanilla. it's a smell you won't be able to get out of your head tonight.
he looks like he's about to sigh and say something to send you walking away, but you speak again before he can dismiss you, possibly, "I think you're handsome and I wanted to talk to you."
"you looking for a quick fuck?" his voice rumbles so nonchalantly as he takes a sip of his whiskey
"no." you answer in a heartbeat, quickly moving your head from side to side as a sign of your counter to the idea, "I don't think I would be this nervous if I was just looking for that."
"Then what are you looking for?" He's suddenly looming over you, body now turned to face you and his early stance of dismissal gone. although you don't know if that's what you prefer now considering this is so much more intimidating. he's squinting his eyes at you just a tad and you can tell he's biting his cheek.
"something that doesn't hurt me." is all you can speak into existence, softly.
he stares at you
he stares at you for a long while, his brown eyes so light, they're almost red. it's intense and you don't know what he's playing at.
he gets up abruptly, the chair that was beneath him screeching, face unnerved when he reaches a hand out expectantly, "your phone."
your eyes widen and you fumble around for your phone before planting it in his hand.
"what's your name," he says as he presses what you suppose is his contact information into your phone.
you hear a ring coming from his back pocket when you answer, "y/n"
"sukuna," he replies back curtly before handing you back yours and moving to shut off his phone. he then takes out a ten dollar bill and puts it on the countertop before turning to leave, "stay with your friends, it's not safe on your own out there."
you hadn't noticed at all that your friend had left you to talk to the familiar stranger, sukuna now, at some point during the interaction. when you turned around, your group was staring between you and the ominous figure leaving as if they were watching a thriller movie and needed a bowl of popcorn to shove their hands into.
when you were on the way home by cab that night, you received a text, that seemed a manifestation due to how hard you prayed for the next buzz from your phone to be from him.
it was a curt reminder that he would meet you outside your apartment--that he also asked for the address of--the following morning so he could take you out. and nothing more. it was so curt, that although he was still inviting you out, you made it your mission to dress your most attractive the next morning.
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you notice he's already outside of the door when peek your head out the door early, doubtful of how early he would be, which he was. sukuna had gotten there ten minutes beforehand, at the least. and although you weren't that mentally prepared to be out with him, you sucked it up and tried your best to confidently walk out the door when he noticed you.
"looks like we're both early," you joke a bit shyly, fiddling with the straps of your purse
"if you need more time you can go back up," he says, having straightened his posture from leaning against the wall and now looking at the busying street, as if to stay aware of his surroundings
"no it's okay, I've been ready for about half an hour now," you smile meekly in embarrassment
the comment makes him flick an eye to you, "should have told me."
"for?" you blink up at him, unaware
"for me to show up earlier," he clicks with his tongue before looking to the left and motioning for the both of you to start walking
it's about ten minutes into your silent walk to who knows where that you hear him speak again without previous poking, "you eat breakfast?"
"yes, actually! it was a lot so im still pretty full, considering the time."
"alright," he nods before locking eyes on something and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the small of your back to maneuver you to your left, "it's here."
and the small entrance he guides you through leads to an immediate splash of greenery
a garden, a large one, surrounded by something you couldn't make out
"it's a bookshop."
and now you could make out the shelves through the surrounding windows
there's a number of different flowers surrounding you and you can't help but dash to a rather beautiful spawn of peonies.
"they're so beautiful!" you bite your lip in excitement, like you'd just seen a puppy. and that's when you spot a small pathway leading to a shrouded bench.
and you get an idea, "do you think they have Takatsuki in there?"
sukuna quirks a brow at you, "you like that insane shit?"
"I like creepy stuff." you blink at him, shamelessly stating the interest of yours
"come on," he juts his chin towards the far end of the garden, where the entrance was
moments later, you come out with a hardcover edition of The Black Goat's Egg you'd been vying for for months, purchased by sukuna, who asked, "that the one you want?" when you said yes, he plucked it from your hands and paid for it at the register.
"thank you." you say in appreciation when you set your purse down next to you on the bench, and flip to the beginning page of the book while sukuna adjusts himself next to you.
the handsome giant says nothing and instead drapes an arm over the side of the bench behind you and flicks his eyes towards the book, waiting for you to read like you'd promised so.
"you'll like it," you smile at him before subconsciously sinking just a little into his personal space and adjusting the book comfortably onto your lap, "ahem..."
you had been reading for about an hour and a half now, and sukuna showed no signs of distaste for the book. he hadn't said a word since the moment you started reading, listening and skimming over the book with you.
"mother's hands carved out the veins beneath his chest, not me. from her nails came the rotten smell of hardened blood. oh this is my favorite part. but I could feel the pulsing of his lungs on my hands. how his heart still beat when I had opened his chest. the breath of life beneath my palms, inhaling and exhaling. my excitement brewed, a woman's touch knew nothing of the enthrallment this brought me-"
grrrrrrrrrr
embarrassing
there's no way in hell your stomach just did that in front of him. you try to mutter a quick sorry and pick back up where you left off, but the moment you open your mouth again after the quick apology, sukuna interrupts you.
"it's time for you to eat."
why did he say that like you were some sort of pet.
he was such a serious speaker sometimes.
while you start to gather your things, sukuna already stands up and reaches a hand out for you to stabilize yourself on.
"I don't think its time time," you say while taking his hand, not wanting to go back to your apartment yet and finish reading yet, "I won't cook normally until another half hour from-"
"you said you liked the same type of pasta the guy was eating in the book right," he cut you off, levitating a hand over your shoulders that simply wooed you into stepping next to him at a comfortable pace while he moved for the both of you to cross the street.
"yeah..."you agreed, catching another whiff of his cologne in the breeze
and that's how you wound up with him ordering a full plate for you and a boring cup of coffee for himself moments later at a restaurant.
"you sure you're not hungry?" you questioned worriedly, eyes searching for any illness on him, scared to grab the fork before you
"I'm cutting, I'll cook at home." he shrugged
"cook what then?" you almost pout, feeling bad that you were going to be feasting in front of him while he merely had a coffee
he looked you dead in the eyes and said before taking a sip of his coffee, "steak."
"ghoul." you shot back while reaching for your fork and making towards the pasta
for the first time, you saw irritation on sukuna's face in the form of a twitch of his nose, "beef. steak."
he seemed so serious and you couldn't help but stick your tongue out playfully, "I know, but you might as well be one if you're that built from so much protein. heh."
sukuna let a tsk out and took a sip of his coffee, "eat your food."
you wound up getting walked home by sukuna later after the meal, a full stomach and new book, both provided by him upon your return.
"thank you again for the book" the corners of your lips quirked up a little cutely, "and for the meal too."
"you still need to eat something later tonight."
"I will" you nod and look up at him earnestly before reaching for his hand and gesturing for him to be level with you.
"goodbye," you land a quick peck on his cheek and let go of his hand, already rushing towards your building door and entering the code in as fast as possible. you couldn't look back, and didn't .
this pattern of dates repeats itself quite often after. sukuna's taken you to what seems like every bookstore in the city and purchased whatever makes your fancy every time. he's had you read for him. he's bought you every sweet and dessert you've wanted. he's brushed a crumb of a macaroon of your lips, carried you bridal style to avoid getting your shoes wet in a large street puddle, the most endearing things, albeit stoically, but
he's never kissed you
you think it has something to do with how stoic he is. maybe there's some sort of damage with him. he's so immersed whenever he's with you, learning and observing you, but it's always felt as if he's keeping part of himself watered down with you.
a hint of snarkiness has left him before, you saw so when a little girl in a park punched an older boy for yanking on her pigtail.
and he never takes you out at night. he hasn't specifically said he doesn't want to go out during the late hours of the afternoon or night, but he always manages to schedule your outings to end before so.
it's why you bite the bullet, and make today's lunch, into a dinner hosted by you, with the convenient excuse that your work asked you to come in for finishing touches on a project you'd be presenting next week and couldn't make it to lunch.
sukuna agreed with no qualms, that you couldn't see through the screen of your phone of course, and even asked if you needed any ingredients.
your chicken had already been in the oven for about twenty minutes when he had knocked on your door--you had texted him the code to your building earlier.
"hi." you breathed, opening the door for him to come in, "I put this chicken recipe I found online to bake. it's supposed to be healthy."
sukuna walked further into your apartment and analyzed his surroundings while you yapped away.
"it's probably not like the steak you eat, maybe less in protein, but I think you'll like it. I don't think I could make steak that good for someone else on the first try..."
"your hand," he slightly quirks a brow up and gestures towards your right hand, two bandages on your middle and pointer finger.
"tomato dicing mishap," you give him a sheepish closed mouth smile while raising your hand up, "it's a bit more annoying than a paper cut. bleeds more than one."
"I could order for here-"
"no! it's okay. I'm done anyway. I need to take out the chicken in a bit anyways." and you move to grab the controller to your tv, "do you have anything in mind you want to watch?”
“the news.”
you slightly furrow your brows, but accommodate to his request then leave the controller on the coffee table, "you see something happen?"
"just don't like not knowing what's going on," he huffs gruffly while eyeing the ongoing news report for the day.
"A ghoul has atrociously murdered and consumed various members of our community. last night's victim is unidentifiable, but his age can be estimated to be about thirty. surveillance cameras near the area show no capture evidence of who could have done this, but reports and evidence point to it being the same perpetrator of the last couple of murders this month-"
you walk to your oven to get the chicken out and start to put on your mittens, "at least it's not girls."
sukuna's eyes flicker towards you, interested in what you're saying, "you should be scared."
you're setting the hot pan on the countertop when you look back at him, eyes clean of any fear, "but he's been eating shit guys."
sukuna turns his body to you and crosses his arms, as if he's about to chew your ear off for saying that, but you continue, moving to plate the food for both of you, "all the bodies they've reported are all well distinguished low life perverts, some have even tried to chase me down when I say no. one of them tried taking a picture under my skirt once."
you place the plates on either side of the dining table for the both of you and sit down, "whatever ghoul that's getting his full with them doesn't scare me. we know he eats a lot, if those guys weren't enough, he'd go for girls already. and before you bite my head off for not being scared, you should know by now that I rarely go out at night, especially not without someone with me. now sit, food's ready."
sukuna eyes moves towards the dining table and eyes your dish a bit wearily as he slides his chair out for him to sit on.
when he sits, you speak again, "I got the recipe from one of those super healthy bodybuilders, so it should be good enough for you. plus, I'm a good cook."
sukuna still stairs into the void, where our plate should be, but he makes for the knife and fork you put for him, "thank you."
and he enjoyed it, you think. he didn't say it was good, but he finished his plate diligently. if he hated it, he would have said something, or shown it on his face.
"I'll wash the dishes," he said when you were about to reach for his plate and instead he took both of yours and got up.
"oh, okay," you observed as he turned on the faucet, his back to you, he looked out of place in the small spot, "I can start putting a movie, you liked when I read Howl's Moving Castle, I have the movie for it."
You looked for a response, and you received one in the form of a nod, so you stood up and sat on the couch, looking through your streaming services.
sukuna finishes faster than you expected
"I need to take a piss," he says as he walks towards the restroom
"okay," you responded without hesitation as you tried to restart the movie considering your streaming service was glitching on you and the movie was already in the ends credits--you watched it that often.
you solved the problem quicker than you thought, because when sukuna comes back from peeing, you've already got the movie paused at the beginning, waiting for him to sit so you can press play.
and when he does sit, it's at a distance from you, which you don't make a comment about because hey, maybe he's just a guy with boundaries.
and it's halfway through the movie that you have barely even paid attention to your favorite movie of all time. the music you always enjoy and look forward to seems to have never reached your ears. the funny antics by Calcifer don't elicit a giggle from you.
"why haven't you tried to kiss me?"
is he even attracted to you? because you have boundaries and you're a woman, but
you want his hands on you for more than just protection or help. you want to know what it feels like to sit on his lap, that you're sure is more comfortable than your couch considering how meaty and large he is.
and now you're in silence, even though the tv must be at more than the recommended volume setting.
"do you want me to?" sukuna asks, still watching the movie, but you can tell his attention is entirely on you
"I wouldn't be saying anything if I didn't want you to..." you breathe, cursing yourself for bringing such an awkward situation upon the both of you. the movie seems as if its not being processed by your eyes even though you're staring at it, too scared to look at him.
the need to backtrack overcomes you and you feel like you need to overexplain your lack of manners and how he should disregard what you're saying when-
he's tilted your chin towards him
and his mouth is on yours
its beyond sensual and you can feel your thighs shift against each other, but nowhere is it an intense roughness.
he's a godsend, you think, right as he pulls away and gets up.
you're dazed and confused as he walks to your door
"I preferred when you read the book to me," he states monotonously while he shrugs his leather jacket on and opens the door.
"I'll send for a dessert for you later." he's halfway through the doorway and his back is to you, "don't finish it all if you still feel full. your cramps get worse with sugar."
"my cramps-"
he shuts the door and you're left dumbfounded in your living room
oh. he must've seen the packaging of your pad thrown in the restroom bin.
later that night, there was a large helping of warm churros that a guy delivered to your apartment building.
you img_786 thank you, they're really good
sukuna don't finish all of it
you I won't <3
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and then he's gone
for a month you haven't heard from him
you shouldn't be rotting in your bed this often, but you are. you don't want to frequent out unless its with him. the few bookstores you did know before him, and went to after with him are sickeningly wrapped in the ambience of him.
going out at night reminds you that he didn't like when you were out at night, sending punctual texts about whether you were home or not
the walk home, where you got excited to even see him for a second is a disdainful reminder of him.
and you feel so ridiculed
the last time you talked, it was because you technically asked for a kiss that he ended up giving
but then walking away and going home.
it hurt your ego
you ran out of matcha tea a bit before sundown. it was a calming drink for you, something you'd been finding comfort it especially during this time.
so you left your apartment to go to the grocery store in your neighborhood. it was a weekday, so the streets weren't all that crowded, everyone was already on the way home.
it was a quick trip, you came out with a tin of matcha and a tub of ice cream, but the sun was halfway through its descent back into the night.
nothing would happen. ghouls don't lurk the moment the sun sets.
your apartment is around the corner when you hear a familiar voice.
"don't move unless you want me to eat your kagune."
why does that sound a lot like him?
there was a sort of mushy sound that followed, then a painful groan
or screech, you couldn't tell the the difference from how pained it was
"please sukuna! I-I didn't know-"
a scream followed, along with a grotesque noise
he said sukuna's name? is that-
"AHAHAHAA LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LUNGS ARE! BASICALLY SHREDS IN MY HANDS!"
it's undeniably his voice, but you've never heard him like this.
if you could just get a look, turn your head over the alleyway just a little
you almost vomit at the sight.
the man you had been moping over for the past few weeks had four large tentacles for a kagune, bright blood red and pinning down the man beneath him, who's lungs unmistakably were in sukuna's hands.
he was eating it like it was something easy, like a slice of ham
the other man-ghoul's intestines were spilling out onto the ground
and all you could do was stand still.
"I didn't know she was off-limits!" the ghoul cried, tears running down his half eaten face considering he was missing a piece of cheek.
"doesn't matter," sukuna retorted, digging a hand in again and taking out what looked like a liver, "what were you going to do to her huh?"
he took a bite and spoke with a full mouth in his face, "I know what lowlife creeps like you like to do to girls like her."
"and how are they supposed to stop coming if I let every creep that wanders near her live?"
and upon further inspection, you realize that the guy underneath him spoke to you this morning on the subway. he made uncomfortable conversation about your skirt and you got off the moment he started getting too close to your personal space
unbeknownst to you, you start shaking and your breath hitches
sukuna hears it
when he turns to face you, where the noise came from, his eyes are red this time, the whites blackened. he's breathing hard as he stares you down.
"go. home." is all he snarls menacingly
and no matter how hard you want to plant your feet and say no because you're mad at him, you run back home. the minute that was left in walking home became twenty seconds.
how you wound up at your apartment that fast was a wonder to you. but all you know is that so many things are making sense, but not at the same time.
that ghoul was going to come for you if it wasn't for sukuna. was sukuna the ghoul from the news? had he eaten all those men? god, you can't even remember all the times you've been cat-called or bothered on the street. how long had he been doing this?
"open the door."
you're back to reality at the sound of sukuna behind the door to your apartment
maybe if you pretend you're not-
"I can hear your heart beating, open the door."
"I don't want to!" you try not to yell, speaking as firmly as you can so as to not garner unwanted attention.
"if you open the door," he starts to speak with irritation that so tells you theres a just as irritated smile on his face, "I can explain to you."
"why do you want to talk now?" you stomp your foot on the ground, praying that the inertia stops the tears building on your waterline from falling down your cheeks
"open the door and I'll tell you y/n." he says, patience still wavering
he stares you down menacingly when you abruptly open the door, but you've got your own look to challenge, brimming with almost tears and an anger like no other at how he hurt you
"I told you to not go out at night."
"how long ago was that huh?" you retort
sukuna bites his cheek and enters your apartment, planting himself in the farthest corner of your living room to argue with you.
"you still know better." he gestures a hand to the window, outside, "I don't care if there's still a couple minutes before the sun sets. don't go outside."
"why not, you'll be there to eat anyone who lurks near me."
your nose is scrunched at him in anger and for the first time, it looks like he has nothing to say
"were you the ghoul from the news the other night?" you sniffle
sukuna looks at you with dead irritation, like he has a million things to say, but none at the same time.
"are you trying to keep me to yourself? to eat me on a rainy day, like a special treat? is that why you couldn't bare to date me? because I was just food?"
"no." he bites back, arms crossed, tongue poking through his cheek while his head moves to face the other way
"then?" you waiver, hands dropped to the sides of your body in fists.
"I'm a ghoul," his red eyes dart to you, pinning you under his gaze," you're a human."
"you can't stand that I'm a human?" you step back, hurt
it seems your words confund him to irritation again when he responds, "you just saw me eating someone's lungs."
"he was going to eat me." you reason
"you're an idiot..." he scoffs, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground
"then why are you still here?" you bite back
your retaliation seems to have set him off, because he soon starts walking towards you and pins you under his body and the countertop behind you
"I was born to eat you," he snarls close to your face, "I will find a way to break you. it's nature. every single day, all I can think about is how much I want to sink my teeth into your flesh. does that not scare you?"
"maybe that's because you never tried to take out your urges on me in other ways." you murmur defiantly
the comment makes him stand still, leaving both of your breaths as the only sound in the room.
"you don't know what you're saying." his nose twitches
"neither do you, you've never tried."
his hands are gripping the countertop so hard, you can hear a slight crumble.
but then sukuna's breathing grows ragged and it would have alarmed you, were it not for his following actions.
his arms brings your entire body towards him when he envelopes you in a nasty kiss.
this
this was sexual
his chest grumbles when you stick your tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it painfully
the bliss is so entrancing, you can't even distinguish the metallic taste.
one of his hands goes to envelop your ass and the grip he has is so strong and painful that you think he's made finger sized holes in your jeans.
the moan that leaves you is far too sinful, but he pulls you impossibly closer and grabs you by the back of your legs to pull you up. sukuna then starts walking to the only other door that doesn't lead to the restroom. to your room.
he'd just bitten your lip to the point where you're sure it'd be bruised within an hour when he threw you onto the bed and yanked your pants off. you don't know if he tore them off or genuinely took them off, but all you know is that the sight when he takes off his shirt next is magnetizing. his body is sculpted and defined everywhere, his pecs are huge, his abs scrumptiously lining his abdomen, and his v-line makes you eager to jump on top of him.
but his tattoos, they're the cherry on top. there's two ragged lines, almost as if fangs scraping down his abdomen, and they seem as if they have brothers and sisters reaching to do the same down his pecs and on the small of his neck. you know about the others on his arms, but not these.
"take off your shirt before I rip it off and you start whining about it." he growls while he fiddles with his belt to push down his pants
you follow orders, no care for if he did rip your shirt (in the moment), but eager to have him
the hard on you're greeted with is just below terrifying.
were all ghouls this gifted?
you have a feeling this was just sukuna
"still feel like you can take it." sukuna snarls as he pushes you further up the bed and positions himself between your legs.
you don't even get a chance to make a comment on what he's about to so intimately do before he tears through the fabric separating your pussy from the outside and delves in without so much as a second thought.
not even ten seconds in and your legs are shaking furiously, with no stop to it so as long as he was on top of you
his tongue is penetrating you so deeply and you don't even have time to question if that's a biological feature on ghouls. all you know is that's it's wet and oh so stimulating, so much so, you're screaming and whining
there's no words you can say, you're screaming so much from the pleasure that you instinctively start to pull away from him, but he growls and keeps you in place
oh
he's been staring at you this entire time
with those eyes
mercy be
it's just enough to drag you to the tipping point and your relief washes over you and him, while he drinks it all up ferociously.
you think he's going to stop when it feels like he's licked you clean from your mess
until he doesn't
he goes on
and he goes on for what seems like an hour
you feel you've gone insane, you can't even count how many times he's made you cum since. you've never been destroyed this way.
your voice is gone when he comes up and stares at you, caging you between his arms.
you're not going to tap out, you try to say with your eyes
and he understands, as it seems, hiking up both of your legs to your chest and beginning to run his fat tip across your folds
"remember, you asked for this." sukuna mutters meanly when he pushes in in one go
you thought it was a lie when some girls said their boyfriends were so big, that they could feel their veins rubbing against their insides
it wasn't
even his tip is being molded to by your pussy
"oh my god," you moan painfully, "I can't-i'm gonna-"
"you can," he retorts, starting to pull back and the mere drag has you keening
you think you have the same effect, considering how labored his breathing has gotten and there's nothing left for you to do besides pull him in for a kiss to sedate yourself from the intensity happening below
the single beginning of the contact illicits sukuna's start of a ruthless pace
your moans seem to make him suck on your tongue punishingly every time. and your hands can't find nothing else to do besides drag painfully down his back. you think you might have just hurt your own hands from how hard his skin is.
sukuna stops kissing you while he pummels inside of you to speak
"scream for me."
command or not, you were still doing so
"filthy little slut," he groans through each stroke, "tightest fucking pussy I've ever fucked."
"pussy's fucking mine, you're never going to touch anyone else. if you even try, I'll kill them."
he keeps going like this, on and on and all you can do is nod and agree with everything he says, because let's be honest, who were you to even glance at someone else after this?
you notice purple indents forming where his hands are on your thighs when he leans down to your face and says, "whaddya say princess, you like being mine?"
"mhm," you nod ernestly, and gather the courage to speak, even if it is hoarse, "love it so much sukuna."
"gonna blow a huge fucking load in your pussy," he murmurs to himself more than anything
"plea-please." you moan needing to be as close to him as possible, feeling an idea surface to your mind
"bite me."
if sukuna weren't so depraved and lost in you, he would have stopped. but he keeps going and instead leans closer to hear you
"bite me," you breathe, almost screaming at the end, "just enough for it not to scar."
sukuna keeps staring at you while he destroys your insides, giving no indication as to if he was going to do follow through with your wishes, until he leans down to your chest
you scream in pain and a delicious ecstasy
there's a small little pool of blood coming from your skin and his mouth when you look down. his hips start stuttering too, and it makes you think that this might be his tipping point.
you're so fucked up that it's yours too
before you know it, his pace grows so erratic that you start cumming and pulsating around him sporadically, unable to contain yourself from the pleasure.
and he starts cumming too.
sukuna lifts himself up from your chest and captures your mouth in his, making you taste a part of yourself you never thought you would. he grows weak in the kiss too, while his cum seeps out and pools into you. it lets you nibble on his tongue, an action that him sinking into your body while he gives you a last few weak thrusts.
"ow," you giggle after a moment of silence
sukuna brings his head up quickly, eyes slightly wide and in worry
"how am I gonna wear a bra over that," you laugh, observing the bleeding bite mark over your boob
sukuna looks down at it, "just don't wear one."
"boobs bring perverts."
sukuna rolls his eyes in exhaustion and dips his head into your chest, licking your wound, "you're not going anywhere without me there anyway."
2K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 1 year ago
Text
AFTER MISSION HOURS
a/n: mb guys, i cant escape the soft dom allegations i just love it too much. but gojo is a little rougher in this. wrote this as a result of the latest jjk ep and uuuhhhhhmmmm imma need him to be angry more CAAUUUUSEEEEE .....
warnings: sorta rough dom!gojo, fem!reader, face-fucking, deep-throating, oral (m receiving), multiple rounds, unprotected sex, spitting on your pussy, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, creampie / breeding kink, aftercare and cute gojo at the end, n*sfw under the cut
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“s— satoru?” you’re taken aback when he stalks through the door, almost making a dent in the wall from how hard he slams it open and the darkness of the front door light does his eyes justice in showing just how bright they are. albeit a little less blue and swirling with something darker and you’re taken aback when he finally walks up to you and seizes your wrist.
“’toru— you should go see shoko—!” you’re surprised when he whirls you around and nods his head towards the big sofa wordlessly and while you’re not a stranger to gojo’s outbursts when you’re arguing about how he needs to value his life more or when he’s uptight from a stressful meeting with the higher-ups, but never like this. frankly, you’ve never even had to courage to tell him all the times he’s stared at you with hooded eyes and a frown etched onto his face, you had to hold yourself back from jumping him.
but now he’s taking matters into his own hands.
you yelp in shock as he pushes you onto your hands and knees and you look back at how he kneels in front of your slowly soaking underwear. gojo plants his hands on your ass and kneads, bringing his nose right up to your pussy lips and licks a stripe over the fabric.
“so wet jus’ from that? fuckin’ slut,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear and you’re ashamed to admit that you like it a little too much when you let out a small whine unknowingly. “oh? like it when i call you a little slut?”
he makes sure to spit out the last part and his anger and stress lowers a little just seeing how you wiggle your butt closer to him and a smile spreads on your face. there’s a little twinkle in your eye when you see the way your boyfriend’s hands make their way down to his pants but he stops short, larger hands wrapping around your waist to flip you over. thank god the couch was big, and he inches his way up your body.
“c’mon. take my cock out,” he’s staring at you from above, a sight you weren’t used to, rather more accustomed to having him below you but this new change sends chills right down to your core. you tug at his pants impatiently and satoru watches with a close eye how you scramble to pull down his underwear and the way your lips part slightly. gojo hums softly when you start stroking it to full hardness and the awe on your face is just so adorable.
“suck.” you didn’t need to be told twice, bringing his angry weeping tip right to your mouth to suckle the pre-cum out of it and your eyes flick up just as he smirks. your mouth’s so full of him, moaning around his length as you bob your head in the uncomfortable position. “all ya good for, huh? made just f’r suckin’ me off.”
this gojo was miles off from your loving boyfriend but you loved it all the same, nodding and hollowing your cheeks and using your hands for the places you can’t reach. your mouth and hands were no comparison to your tight cunt but they’re second best, so warm and pliant. you stare up at him before coming off and drool drips down the side of your mouth.
“fuck my mouth, satoru,” your pleading eyes are too much for him, both hands still stroking him non-stop as you mix in your saliva with his pre-cum, lewd noises filling the hall. “please?”
gojo simply laughs, a laugh that definitely says i should do this more, “sure, baby.”
and while his stress is immediately gone from seeing you beg, he’s not any more gentle as he lines his cock along your lips and holds onto the arm rests of the couch and fucks your face. the first thrust into your mouth, he moans out loud before his hips move quicker and quicker and you have hardly any time to adjust. your fingers squeeze his thighs with each ram into you, tip kissing the back of your throat you swear you can feel him in your stomach. you’ve learned to hold your breath even when your nose meets with his untrimmed pubes, eyes never breaking contact as he slams into you.
“mouth s’good— s-shit . .” gojo chuckles breathlessly when he hears you gurgle on his fat cock, feeling your tongue massage the base of his dick. the obscene gawking noises only gets louder when he pushes himself right to the limit, obsessed with how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can make little noises around him. he gives a little quick glance to see your playing with yourself and he swears under his breath, pulling his hips back and letting you breathe. “filthy girl. jus’ need me so bad.”
“y—yeah satoru. wanna take your mind off . . work,” you mumble, eyes focused on how his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum from his tip and you just wanna make him feel so good — you’re not even that big on the whole housewife thing, but the way gojo treats you? you’d be on your knees all day if you could, taking his warm cum down your throat. 
“yeah? cute lil thing you are.” he taunts, bending his body so he could be inches from your face even as you continue pumping him and he’s trying not to lose composure. his eyes bore holes into your face from how hard he stares at you, breath shaky as your hands move under his jujutsu uniform and all over his upper body.
“use me.” it comes so abruptly even you are surprised, knowing how you liked to be more passive in your sex life and still, this is your first step out of your meekness. “take it all out on me, satoru.”
gojo’s chest heaves and he silently pulls away to face your cunt, removing your panties and he really wants to give you everything slowly like he likes it. he wants to see you cry as he rocks into you with gradual grinds but when you tell him something as dirty as that — he’s doing anything but that.
“haah . .” satoru sighs at your clenching pussy, dragging his tip up and down, up and down your folds and just seeing your juices just flow and flow and he’s hypnotised, “careful what you wish for, darling girl.”
you barely have time to register his warning before he slams into you and you’re screaming. it’s easy from how wet you are and it takes a small while as you adjust to his thrusts and gojo uses your body like a ragdoll. he hovers over you as your legs are limp and unsure of where they should go. this little dilemma isn’t lost on satoru, grabbing your ankles and holding them as his hips move relentlessly and this has your hips lifting off the sofa; he easily reaches your g-spot like this.
“satoru— fucking g-god! satoruuu . . !” you moan at the roughness of his ministrations, thinking you were free from the assault when he lets your ankles rest on his shoulders but all he does is spit on your pussy. a perfect shot and he rubs it in with his thumb and it has you whining out loud at the sudden stimulation, “t-too much!”
“you can take it.” gojo simply mumbles, thumb drawing timed circles on your clit as he watches his cock disappear into you. “can do it when you’re clenchin’ around me this hard.”
gojo grins, sickly.
“ah! my pretty little slut did it again.” the names were an exact opposite from the softer praise you were used to, and still they have you biting your lips and giggling in between moans, letting him fuck you like the cocksleeve you are.
“breed me, ’toru. need it—!”
“that right?” gojo slams into you at the speed of an animal, clearly still high-strung from the mission and notices how you still are making sure he cums first. the thought makes his hips stutter paired with seeing your doe eyes as little pants leave your mouth and he needs to pull away from your clit to hold onto your thighs before he cums and cums and cums. your back arches at the feeling and a soft moan is heard from your lips at how it starts to fill you up.
gojo wastes no time to pull out and see his cum spill out of you before he’s doing a circular motion with his finger and you’re lying on your stomach like a good girl. you melt when you feel him scoop it all up, pushing the escaping cum right back into you and your head sinks into the cushions while your ass only pushes more into him.
“hol’ on, baby, got another load for ya,” this thrust is wet. you can basically hear his cum struggle to stay in you to the point where his cock is coated in a thin layer of white and you can only moan out for him from below. he shuts you up but pressing you deeper into the sofa, a harsh hand on your lower back and your ass sticks out more.
“thaaat’s it . .” gojo smirks, licking his lips as he watches your ass ripple from the contact. each drag of his cock into your warm, cute pussy, his eyes are there, and each spurt of your arousal and his cum as his pelvis meets yours, he’s searing it into his brain, “this what you mean by using you?”
you’re murmuring “yeah”’s into the sofa, knees and arms suffering from fabric burn from how much your body was moving, and yet his throbbing cock is just too good. your mouth falls open when satoru reaches around to rub at your clit again and your hands fly to hold onto his wrists, “oh— right there, ’toru . .!”
it’s all too much for you, the previous load of cum spilling onto the couch below you, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and the sloppiness of your pussy that it’s even having gojo moving aimlessly into you, rather just rutting in you messily.
“g’na cum again— f-fuck,” gojo swears as his fingers on your clit are more frantic to try to match his pace while he props a leg up onto the sofa and you thrash against his hold because his tip brushes against your cervix so good that you’re convulsing in the next second, whining and mewling as you cum all over his cock.
he can feel your cum and the sorcerer moans, switching to short, impatient thrusts into your tight cunt and his grunts merges with calls of your name, eyes scrunched up as he shoots his second orgasm into you. you try to grab at something as there’s the familiar feeling of his tip releasing ribbons of cum deep into your womb, but you come up short, settling rather to dig your nails into fabric.
“take my load like the cock drunk whore you are,” gojo grunts out lowly, grinding his hips into you just to get his last drops of cum into you and he has the audacity to massage at your lower back while your body’s still reeling from the intense high and yes, his anger is quelled a little but each time you’re with gojo satoru there’s always surprise ambushing you from every corner.
you gasp when he pulls you up and pulls you against his chest, moving his hips in an experimental thrust right into you and you’re sagging over his strong arms that hold you up, whining incoherently as you struggle to stay awake.
“alright, alright,” satoru laughs softly, pressing a peck to your cheek, “needa thank my baby for letting me use her.”
you barely manage a smile, turning back to him with a raise of your eyebrow, “can still go . . ’toru . .”
he hums, and pulls you off of him slowly, dick jumping just a little when he hears a choked moan leave you at the feeling of his cum dripping from your cunt but he steels himself, “hm, don’t think so, princess.”
you pout, immediately turning around to hug him close to you and gojo’s heart flutters at your cuteness. he sighs at your adamant stance, easily standing up with you wrapped around him and carrying the two of you to the master bathroom.
“let’s clean up and we’ll see if you’re awake enough to go again, alright?” satoru whispers to you before turning on the shower, and later when he’s stuck in the toilet tidying up his pubes (he saw how uncomfortable you were earlier) and he’s letting you take the bed first, there’s a perplexity and small fear that overcomes the male at the lack of answer when he calls out to you.
but gojo comes out to you slipping in and out of consciousness with only his shirt whilst hugging his pillow and he smiles to himself, getting dressed as quickly as possible and slipping in beside you. a soft smile is still plastered on his face when you naturally curl into his warmth and mumble out a soft i still had stamina, satoru.
“shh, go to sleep, baby,” satoru tugs you closer into him and he wonders if there’s any way to love you even more than he already does, “we have all the time in the world, silly girl.”
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shibuya incident? tf is that?? never happened bitch
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yan-maid-cafe · 8 months ago
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Yandere Imposter
Imagine a yandere that pretends to be someone else...
You and your husband hadn't been close in years. A rotten drunkard that spent all day rotting away on the couch. When the two of you got married, you genuinely thought things would be perfect, he was such a sweet guy. But things just went downhill from there.
He was a sleeze bag. Spending all day drinking and refusing to work. Forcing you to get a job to support you both, but he couldn't even bother being somekind of househusband. No, he expected you to get off of work clean the house for him and still cook him dinner everyday. You felt more like his mother than his wife. And it was getting on your last nerve.
So imagine your surprise when you walk into the house one day, the smell of cheap booze and cigarette smoke gone. Instead replaced with the smell of soup?
The place was oddly spotless as you made your way into the kitchen, and there standing at the stove was your husband. Wearing an apron as he stirred the food in the pot. It was unnerving, if you knew anything about your husband it was that he refused to even step foot in the kitchen unless it was to eat. As if sensing your presence, he quickly turned around a smile spreading on his face. Was it just you or were his teeth whiter than usual?
Walking over he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, burying his face into your neck. A look of happiness on his face as he held you close.
"I'm so happy you're finally home, Dear. I went ahead and made dinner, you just go sit down and I'll be right over."
Since when had he called you pet names? You couldn't help but check his tempature, wondering if he was running a fever of somekind. Why else would he be acting so out of character suddenly. But he simply laughed off your worry and ushered you towards your seat. Immediantly serving you dinner with a blissful smile, a smile you had never seen on his face. You were so confused...
The night just continued on like that. One weird occurance after another. It felt like you were with a stranger, someone nothing like your husband yet identical to him. You felt like you were going mad, until night eventually came. Bringing you to bed, you and your husband lied down together. Except unlike everynight since your honeymoon, he pulled you closer. Snuggled up next to you as he whispered softly in your ear, almost bringing tears to your eyes.
"I'm so sorry for the way things have been all these years. You never deserved any of it. But as long as I'm here, I'll treat you perfect..."
Edan had always hated his brother. Despite looking identical, they couldn't have been more different. And it felt like his brother was always out to make his life difficult. If Edan got on the football team, his brother was the quaterback. If Edan got a B, his brother got an A. If Edan got honor roll, his brother got valedictorian. And eventually when Edan felt like he had met his soulmate his dear brother had to marry them. He could never win. It was all too much.
Especially when Edan began to take a closer look into the life his brother had stolen away from him. He was disgusted. Working his beloved like a dog day and night. Treating them as nothing more than a servant meant to do whatever was demanded of them, not giving them the life they deserved. The day he snapped came when he saw his beloved leave for work, continuing to stay near the house. He watched as his brother stepped out of the house hours later, walking over to one of the neighboring apartment doors and knocked on it. A scantily clad individual opening the door and ushering him inside. He saw red...
How foolish did that idiot have to be. Stealing away the life that Edan deserved, only to not even appreciate it. He got the privilege to lay beside perfection every night, and he still ran into the arms of some worthless harlot. He couldn't stand it. His beloved didn't deserve this mistreatment, and his brother didn't deserve their love. But what was he supposed to do about it...
He had never been so happy that the two were identical...
All it took was a little makeover and a swap of IDs for the two to look the exact same again. Now if he was ever found, Edan would be dead. He had to clean up all the blood from the floor, he might have gone a bit overboard but years of hatred and frustration will do that to a person.
But it was all worth it in this moment. Holding his beloved close to his chest as the two lay together, it was a dream come true. Burying his face in their hair, he continued to whisper to them, arms wrapped tightly around their body so that they couldn't get up. They never had to know.
" You'll get the life you deserve. We'll both get the lives we deserve, no matter what..."
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specshroom · 7 months ago
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°~ A MAGE IN THE JUNGLE ~°
Includes: Use of she/her, Slimy naga dick, Size difference, strangers to...fucking? Idk.
In which: Our Mage searches the jungle for a rare species to add to her "research".
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She curses as her boot clad feet catch on another root, almost sending her tumbling into the dewy jungle ground. Deciding to stop for a short break, she swats at the buzzing mosquitoes, taking her hat off to fan herself futilely while eyeing the map she bought.
The vender who sold it to her was an eccentric type, which is always a good sign in her eyes. If you're going to scam people at least commit to the whole "mysterious merchant" bit. The old hag managed to make her cough up 7 copper coin for this "traveler's essential". 
Her goodwill has not been paid back as apparently the map was more unreliable than she expected. The mage curses herself as she glowers at the useless map, trying to decipher where the hell she is.  
After a few more minutes of squinting and pointing to random places on the map, she just scrunches the flimsy paper in her hands and sets it on fire, burning it up before the embers could even reach the floor. She wasn't looking for anything any cheap map could show her anyway. 
She came here to follow an urban legend about a deadly beast that stalks the jungle. The creature has many different variations depending on who's telling the story but what is consistent is the shining gold scales adorning the creature. Stories vary widely from village to village, some say it's an old wrathful god sent down to punish those greedy enough to seek it out and some say it's a beautiful maiden with a golden tail here to bring good fortune to those deserving of it. 
Which ever story is the truth, she just couldn't hold back her fanaticism. A strange creature that apparently nobody has seen before but for some reason is being spotted closer to nearby villages more and more? That is absolutely right up her alley. 
Now if she could only find the damn thing. The villagers seemed almost relieved that someone else was going to try and find this thing, so getting information was quite easy. While the area has been narrowed down, it's still a huge chunk of jungle. At this point it would be easier if the monster just came out and tried to eat her already. 
The mage percs up when they hear water flowing and walks in that direction until she stumbles on a river. She kneels down by the waters edge, it looks pretty deep or maybe the water is just too murky to see the bottom. She hums and pulls out the flask she enchanted, fills it with water and waits for the magic to properly dispose of the dirt particles and bacteria before taking a long gulp. 
This river is wide and the water flows slowly but surely past her. She places her hand in the water, curious to see if she can see the bottom or perhaps any fish to eat. 
She softly chants an incantation, forcing the dirt particles away from her hand. This proves harder than she thought as she's never had to cleanse flowing water before. 
She leans in closer to concentrate her energy and eventually the water becomes clearer and she can see something glistening at her from the water. Is that really treasure at the bottom of the river? Could she be that lucky?
 She squints and leans closer to get a better look, the golden specs glinting in the murky water blink at her through the surface. 
She freezes and the blood in her veins turns colder than the depths of the river. 
Before she can even move a huge clawed hand shoots up from the  surface and clings onto her arm, tearing through her cloak, undershirt and skin. There's no time for a painted scream as she's pulled into the water with great force. She can feel the waters resistance against her body as it's dragged into the murky depths. 
Before this beast actually drowns her she manages to force her other hand against the current to grip onto the beasts scaly wrist. She casts the first spell she can think of, Combustion. 
Suddenly the surface of the water explodes outwards, splashing water high into the air. She propels herself upwards and breaks the surface to hover above the water. She curses and looks around frantically, she can't lose the monster now. Panicking, she summons her hat and starts chanting, willing the plentiful vines of the jungle trees to plunge into the river and search for the beast. 
When she feels a tug she wills the vines to pull the heavy struggling mass to the surface. The huge mass writhes and thrashes in its confines as it rises from the water. 
She can finally see just how massive this thing is as it fights and snarls at her. It's much bigger than any Naga she's seen before, the human half is near orc sized! The bottom half being even bigger with the long thick tail thrashing in the water below. She reinforces the vines to bind the rest of the ridiculously large tail and sets the beast down on the ground next to the river. 
When her feet meet the ground, she sighs and wills the water out of her soaked clothes. She checks her bleeding arm and sucks in a breath at how deep the gashes are. 
"Now look what you did. Fucking hell, thats deep. How long are your claws?!"
Of course she can heal it but it's such a pain. The monster on the ground hisses and spits in response. 
She takes a better look at it, or him, she discovers. His scales really do shimmer like gold with black scales painting a pattern all the way down his back and tail. His white underbelly fades into something resembling human skin as her eyes move up his rapidly moving chest. The gold scales fade into a darker black down his shoulders to the tips of his clawed fingers. Her eyes flicker to his intense stare, pure gold flickers in his irises. His drenched black hair gets in the way of his glare. 
"Wow."
She can't help but verbalise her awe. She carefully moves around him to look at him in a different angle.
"I knew you were a naga. I knew it."
She summons a book into her hand, not her spellbook but one for these special cases. She flips to a new page and licks the tip of her pencil. She crouches down to look at him expectantly,
"Do you happen to know how much you weigh? What do you eat? Most nagas are some sort of omnivorous but I'm assuming you eat mostly fish. How many fish do you have to eat to stay this size?"
She gestures incredulously to all of his giantness.
He just growls some more, quiter this time as his confusion overtakes his anger somewhat.
"Come now, I know you can understand me and I know you can speak."
He stops growling to stare at her incredulously. How could she possibly know that? The giant snake man tries to readjust but hisses again, this time in pain. She jolts up and immediately goes to assess the wound on his wrist, which is tied tightly to his back. She cringes at the red, fleshy wound she created on his body. So much for first impressions. Without much warning she immediately starts with the healing spell. This creates great discomfort for him, as his cells rebuild themselves but she knows this is better than dragging it out for longer.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry."
She coos at the massive man almost like he's a child or a small animal. This woman evades him. Once she's done and his wrist is good as new she springs up and clears her throat, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"Sorry about that but...you did try to eat me so..."
He looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know how exactly. By the scowl on his face it doesn't look like it would be anything good. She crouches down again, peering down at him.
"Do you still want to eat me?"
He growls, nothing but hatred in his beautiful eyes as he hoaursly spits out,
"I want nothing more in the world."
"..."
The mage tries and fails to hide a girlish giggle behind her hand as she rocks back and forth on her feet. She reacts as if he'd just complemented her outfit. The Naga man pulls his mouth into a snarl and huffs in irritation, hating how this woman continues to confuse him.
After composing herself she summons her little reaserch book again, holding it against her crouched thighs to write.
"Have you actually ever eaten a human before? Be honest."
The Naga writhes in his bonds to eventually turn away from her so atleast he doesn't have to face his captor. He lies there for awhile just squirming every so often, he's already tried to cut the vines with his claws but she must have done some kind of reinforcement magic when she healed him. Damn witch.
While he devises an escape plan, he can hear scratching on paper from behind him. The mage seems to be writing quite a lot in her book. When the Naga looks back at her he catches her gaze staring intently at the intricate patterns on his back, the way the scant black scales blend with the bright gold makes for a very unique pattern.
"How much will you sell it for"
She stops sketching and looks back up at his eyes. She lets out a confused "hmm?"
This only makes him angrier.
"My hide! It must be worth a fortune! That's why you're here!"
Her gaze softens a bit, kicking herself mentally for being so unthinking towards the man. He might be big and intimidating but that doesn't mean he can't be scared for his life.
"Look, I don't want your hide. It would be much easier to just fake one anyway since nodoby knows what you actually look like. I just want to ask you a few questions and then let you get back on with your day. I'll even cook you a meal as a thank you."
The snake man is obviously skeptical, all he does is stare back at her with those gorgeous eyes.
She sighs and opens her book back up, flipping over to a particular page.
"Researching rare and perculiar creatures is a hobby of mine."
She rolls down onto her stomach and shuffles closer to the massive Naga. She leans on her elbows to show him the open page as if they were best friends at a slumber party and she's showing him her dairy.
"You're not even the rarest or most sought after Naga species I've met."
She points to a drawing she sketched of a male Naga, this one with the torso and arms of a human but the tail and head of a snake. There's a bunch of scribbles and descriptions around the drawing in a language he can't read.
"Where he's from people worship him like a god. He's a very rare species that can hypnotise someone just by looking into their eyes."
She chooses to leave out the part where she willingly let the Naga hypnotise her and use her as he pleased for weeks.
He doesn't have a response to give the mage, staring blankly at the pages as she rattles on about other species she has in her book. His skepticism somewhat dampened by these sketches of Naga just like him but with characteristics he's never seen before.
The mage notices how dark the sky has gotten, catching a few stars glinting overhead. She gets up and starts assembling the tent she brought. Pulling thick fabric out of her infinitaly deep satchel.
The Naga man just lies there watching, wondering if it would be so bad to comply with this mage. They don't seem dangerous or malicious at all but the magic they wield is still a concern. She talks to him as she works on building her temporary abode.
"Y'know, the village folk are quite nice. If you want I could talk to them, I'm sure they would rather cohabitate than live in fear of a man-eating monster in the jungle. Since you're definitely a rare species this part of the jungle could even be named as a conservation zone."
She keeps yapping stuff the Naga man doesn't care to listen to. The mage erects her shoddy little tent, does some sort of chant and then hurriedly crouches inside the small space.
She stays inside there for a while to the point where the Naga man thinks she might not return for the night. He smells something absolutely devine and realises it's cooked beef coming from inside the tent.
The damn mage walks outside with a steaming bowl of that devine smelling concoction. She stabs a piece of meat with a fork and offers it to him after blowing on it a little. She doesn't really give him time to react before poking the fork into his mouth. His taste buds are lighting up and he almost moans at the taste.
The mage grins at how he accepted her offer and stands back up.
"I just want to ask you a few questions. I'm sorry for causing you trouble but I didn't come all this way for nothing. I'm more than happy to repay you for your troubles if you just come inside."
After that she turns and walks back into the tent. As she walks away the vines binding his body loosen until they fall from his body entirely.
He's free. She's giving him an out. He could just leave.... But he can still taste the meat on his tongue. Nothing has happened to him yet so atleast he knows it's not poisoned or spiked. He turns to where the dark water of the river calls to him and turns back to the fire light coming from inside the mages tent. He sighs and hangs his head. As if the jungle itself is trying to urge him, a cool breeze blows past that seems to urge him closer to the tent.
The Naga sighs, stretches his sore limbs and slowly slithers towards the tent. He takes a deep breath before parting the fabric of the opening and crouching inside.
As he expected, the tent is much bigger than it appears on the outside. Bedding and pillows cover the floor and there is a fire with a pot over it in the middle.
The mage is humming to herself while pouring more steaming hot stew into two bowls. He sits across form her coiling his tail into a pile to sit on top of it.
She holds out a steaming bowl to him and waits patiently for him to take it. He hesitantly accepts the offer and, after watching her eat a fair portion of her own bowl, starts slurping up the meaty stew.
After the first and second serving the mage places her empty bowl aside and picks up her book. As the Naga pours himself a third helping she clears her throat, making him look up at her expectant gaze. He huffs but nods, lazing back against his tail to keep enjoying his meal. The mage gleams across from him.
"I don't know how much I weigh, I eat mostly fish and I've never eaten a human."
The mage scribbles all this down as he speaks, very pleased with his cooperation.
"How often do you shed?"
The Naga rests his arms on his tail like it's a comfy backrest. He takes a generous gulp of his stew before answering,
"...Once every season."
"So you grow moderately quick then? And you're still growing? Or do you think this is how big you'll get."
"I still shed, so I'm still growing."
The woman nods and jots that down.
"You're a constrictor type, right? No venom or hypnotising?"
He gives her a deadpan stare, as if to say "What do you think?". She gets the idea and confirms her own theory.
she chews her lip, deliberating something before she finally asks.
"Can I measure you?"
He gives her an irritated look before he slowly unwinds his tail from it's bunched up state, unfurling it out on the floor as he lies on his stomach.
The mage wastes no time springing up and pulling a rolled up tape measure out of her hat. She holds it out to him and says,
"Hold this at your head, please."
He boredly does as she asks and she carefully walks back the length of his body. He doesn't know why but he straightens his tail as much as possible while looking at her over his shoulder. When she gets to the tip of his thick tail she exclaims some numbers in a measurement he doesn't know but from the look on her face it's clearly impressive. She hurriedly scribbles that in her book.
The measuring roll disappears and the Naga goes back to his meal. He pours what's left in the bowl into his awaiting mouth before he feels a soft touch on his tail and freezes.
He slowly looks behind him at the culprit. He watches her with a predatory gaze as she hesitantly tests his patience. He watches her, as if daring her to go further and so obviously she does. She inches higher up his tail to where is gets much thicker, lightly tracing the patterns on his reptilian skin. She softly touches his golden scales as if they're fragile.
The mage gets more confident and crawls higher up his tail, getting more inquisitive and bold.
"Is the underside more sensitive?"
She asks, genuinely curious. He doesn't answer, just keeps staring at her with a look that says "Try it", so that's what she does. She looks into his eyes and slides her hand down the side of his tail towards the white underbelly.
He strikes before she can even blink. He has her on the floor coiled up in his tail as he entraps her whole body with his. She doesn't offer much of a fight besides some squirming but his tightening hold on her body forces her to still.
"Is this what you want mage?"
She says nothing, only looks up at him with those same curious eyes. He can feel her heart beat as he squeezes her rib cage, it beats steady and bold. She's not scared of him at all and that intrigues him more than he likes.
The Naga looms over her, he reaches out to grab her jaw tilting her head around to look over her face. He's tried to ignore it but he's also quite curious about her and her own species. He pinches his fingers slightly so that it makes her lips pout together before he reaches out with his other hand to take her pink tongue in between his thumb and pointerfinger. She just stares up at him, offering no resistance.
He strokes the small wet muscle with his thumb, rubbing over where it would split into two if she was a Naga like him. It's so small compared to his fingers and much warmer than he anticipated, probably due to the warm meal they just shared. He sticks his tongue out to lick the air and pauses when he smells something unfamiliar but unmistakable, coming from the Mages lower parts.
He's smelled it once before when he caught sight of a human woman bathing in the river, he couldn't help but linger in the brush and watch the human as she touched herself. He feels the same need now that he felt then, a curious burn in his stomach.
The mage struggles in his hold,
"I know you're curious too..."
She says up at him, almost hopefully. She slowly struggles her legs free to wrap them around his wide torso, squeezing him between her thighs. As he looks down at her the snake man feels her warm body heat radiating off of her seeping into his skin, the movement of her chest, her pulse. He can feel his cock poking out from the slowly parting slit on his white underbelly.
He licks the air one more time before his mouth catches hers in a needy kiss. She immediately kisses back with fever, fidgeting more in his hold making him tighten the heavy coils which only makes her let out a pleasured cry into his mouth. His tongue feels so odd on her own, it's much longer than hers and he pushes it down her throat with abandon.
His tail slithers around her body, lifting her shirt up. When she first feels his cold skin against her warm stomach she's filled with need to feel him against every inch of her skin. She struggles in his hold, kissing him with more need and trying to grind her neglected cunt against something.
The Naga huffs a laugh and watches her kick her legs helplessly.
"Do you have other clothes?"
He mumbles against her lips, she nods into the kiss.
His claws tear her pants and underwear away as if the garments were made of tissue paper, doing the same to the neckline of her shirt and undershirt. She groans at the feeling of his cold skin against hers and the humid night air on her cunt.
She feels a slick substance drip onto her pussy and groans loudly.
"Show me. Let me see."
She pleads and struggles even more. He chuckles and nibbles on the skin of her neck,
"Little thing like you should be scared. What if it's too much for you?"
His concern is real even if he's insanely turned on by this situation. Her body might not be able to keep up with her inquisitive mind.
"Try me."
She looks into his eyes with determination, he looks back. One of his hands go to stroke his growing cocks as they unsheath from their slit. She stretches to pear over his tail wrapped around her. There's two, one big cock clearly meant for insemination, the same colour as his white underbelly and a second reddish coloured one, she assumes is meant for extra stimulation. The Naga strokes the big one with one hand, both cocks have slick ooze spilling from them and they're dripping with slick which she guesses is produced from the slit they come out of.
She worms her hand over one of his coils to grip onto his tail, she whines loudly at him. She wants it inside her so bad. He chuckles at her again as more of his precum drips onto her pussy lips.
He can't deny her pleas for long and against his better judgement he prods at her entrance with his cock, rubbing the tip up against her hole.
She grinds up into him and he takes that as the go ahead to slide inside her. The slippery tip sheathes inside her rather easily, it's the rest of him he's worried about. He struggles to hold himself back from pounding the hot tight pussy squeezing around him, he truly doesn't want to hurt the Mage.
Said Mage is almost in tears at being unintentionally edged by him. She squeezes her thighs around his massive waist, squirming around as much as she can. The Naga finds he likes the way her soft naked body wriggles in his coils, he especially likes the way her thigh muscles tense and relax. His sharp claws gently caress the fat of her thighs, curiously squeezing and jiggling the fat slightly. She whines again and he decides to be merciful and slides his cock further inside her while gripping her thighs.
He's too slow, too cautious and she just can't take it anymore.
She mumbles a little spell and the Nagas body feels a sudden force pulling him closer to her making him hiss as his cock is suddenly thrusted to the hilt. The smaller cock is rubbing up against her clit delisciously and the slick coating his cock seeps out of her pussy.
"If I want you to stop, I can make you. Stop, pussying around fuck me."
He stares down at her with blown out eyes, she stares up at him so determined while still being thoroughly bound in his hold. His breathing is more ragged and a grin finds it's way on his face. He looks almost feral and it makes the mages pussy clench around him which makes him reactively thrust back.
She's spun around suddenly in his hold, his tail unwinding until her arms are free and there's one coil left around her waist. Her arms are quickly bound by his own hands, gripping her much smaller arms. He gives a hard thrust into her cunt and growls in her face as she moans back up at him.
He starts a rough pace, having thrown all cation to the wind. Her tight human pussy squeezes him so tight like he squeezes around her body with his tail. The loud wet slapping sounds his hips make against hers make everything even more erotic. His coiled tail around her grips her waist tightly and he groans when he can feel his own cock bulge against her stomach where his tail holds her.
He brings the end of his tail to wrap around her wrists binding them together while his ramming into her soaked pussy.
He speeds up even more and places his palm on top of his smaller dick, pressing it against her clit. His other hand is gripping her under thigh so hard she's pretty sure his claws have pierced her skin. The stimulation on his sensative cock makes him frantically thrust into her until he releases deep inside her. He shakes and spasms as he empties himself into her. If he was more conscious he would be embarrassed at how needy he must have looked.
His orgasm lasts quite awhile longer than she expected, she realises he must have been really pent up as his cock just keeps shooting seed into her every few seconds. The poor Naga looks exhausted when his orgasm finally ends. His eyes are closed, breathing deeply with strands of black hair fall delicately around his face. The tail around her wrists loosens and she immediately goes to pull him down into her embrace, clutching his sweaty body into her warmer one.
He hums into her neck, enjoying her warm softness. His tongue flicks out occasionally to lick her salty skin and smell her on the air.
"Did I tire you out, big guy?"
She jokes, while her hands caress the comparatively massive expanse of his back. She tries to remind herself that he might be inexperienced and more sensitive than usual, she doesn't want him to feel bad about getting overstimulated.
The Naga lifts his head from her neck, his body casts a shadow over hers as he looms over her again. He gives her a sharp fanged grin.
"Don't be so cocky, Mage."
The end of his tail slowly comes from behind to wrap around her neck as the coil still wrapped around her waist lifts her torso up high. His softening cock slips out of her dripping cunt as he lifts her up with his tail. She groans low as she feels the copious amounts of slick and spend fall from her pussy to the floor.
The naga curiously runs his thumb up the length of the mages pussy, gathering up the fluids. He feels a strange urge to keep as much of his cum inside her as possible. Careful of his sharp claws he opts to push his spend back into her pussy with his tongue, feeling the way she squirms and clenches around his forked tongue. The Naga hisses lightly in delight and smooshes his face into the fat warmth of her thigh while looking into her eyes. She peers at him with a dazed look, loving the way his tail lightly squeezes her thoat.
"I'm far from done with you."
As it turns out she didn't get to ask him many questions that night. Not that she complained about it much.
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jezebelblues · 20 days ago
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home | h.s
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requested!! thank u anon, i hope u can enjoy :)
summary: the entirety of y/n’s pregnancy with their son, atlas. [nov’18–may’19]
cw: unexpected pregnancy, labor + labor pains, fem!reader. i think that’s it!!
word count: approx 12.3k
| hope yall don’t mind that i included louis in this. i miss him fr. also, thank u again anon <3 hope this wasn’t too long
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Life had slowed, but only just—somehow still breezy with that undercurrent of momentum that carried him from One Direction fevered heights, to the steady rhythm of his own solo journey. Fame was no stranger, but this? These moments were the ones he cherished most. He glanced at his wife, her eyes twinkling as she sat with their son. The simple joy of this evening reminded him of how far they had come. The quiet, intimate wedding in Holmes Chapel five years ago, the shockwaves it sent through the internet because they had managed to keep it so private, and then, only a year later, the unexpected news that YN was pregnant with Atlas.
He could still remember the exact moment he found out about their little surprise, how the world had seemed to tilt on its axis when she told him. It had been unplanned, a complete shock, but one that had filled him with a profound sense of love and responsibility.
Five years ago felt like a lifetime ago, yet it also felt like yesterday.
Five Years Earlier – November first, Holmes Chapel
The cold was sharp outside, but the small cottage Harry and YN had rented for the holiday season felt warm, cozy even. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and YN sat curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Outside, a gentle snow, the first of the season, had started to fall, covering the village in a blanket of white.
Harry had been out all day, helping his mother with some last-minute holiday preparations. The quiet of the house felt calming to YN, but there was something on her mind, something that had been gnawing at her for the past month. Her period was late—later than it had ever been.
She had noticed other small things too. A slight queasiness in the mornings that she initially brushed off as stress from the hectic, upcoming holiday season. But now, as she sat there, the weight of realization started to sink in. She might be pregnant.
Her heart pounded as she thought about it. They hadn’t planned for this. They had only been married for about a year, and though they had talked about children, it had always been a vague, distant future sort of conversation. But now, the possibility was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t sure how Harry would react.
Would he be excited? Nervous? Overwhelmed?
She glanced at her phone, considering whether to text him and ask him to pick up a pregnancy test on his way home. No, that felt too impersonal.
She had paced the empty hallways of the cottage, occasionally texting her husband back or scrolling through instagram. She knew Harry like the back of her hand, he wouldn’t be upset—perhaps a bit overwhelmed, but upset? No, from the years they’ve known each other, he loved children. She couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of dance sessions, hide and go seeks, and cartoon watching she’d walk in on when he was with the children of his family or friends. And from the discussions they’ve shared of their own future children, she knew he’d be ecstatic—she just didn’t think it’d be so soon.
A few hours later, the front door creaked open, and Harry’s voice echoed through the small cottage. “Lovey, y’here? S’cold as hell out there.”
She stood, wrapping Harry’s sweater tighter around her frame, trying to keep her nerves in check as she walked towards him. He looked so carefree, a light dusting of snow in his hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold, a grin already stretching across his face when he saw her.
“Got y’favorite mince pies from the bakery,” he announced, holding up a small paper bag as he walked towards her. “Mum says we need to fatten you up f’the winter.”
YN laughed softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, but she didn’t know how to say them. Instead, she took the bag from him and set it on the counter.
He began to shuffle around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a few glasses. He absentmindedly hummed a tune his wife didn’t quite recognize as he floated toward the freezer, pulling out a frosted glass bottle of rum with a smile. “Mum said she would’ve made it herself but–” He laughed, shaking his head as he set the bottle down on the counter with a heavy clank. “She’s decorating the house. Looks like autumn threw up in there.”
YN only responded in a gentle chuckle, one that made him look up with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned, immediately noticing the shift in her demeanor. He paused, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “Everything alright, sweet girl?”
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. Her eyes burrowed into his, shifting gaze from one eye to the other. Her lips parted, unsure of how to form the words that sat heavily in her throat. She exhaled, managing a smile as she shook her head. “Just a bit tired, thats all.”
She couldn’t tell him until she was sure. If he were to be overjoyed, she didn’t want to get his hopes up on the off-chance she wasn’t pregnant.
Harry paused for a moment, not fully convinced, but he didn’t want to push. If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she felt ready. So, he only smiled back as he unscrewed the rum and poured into the square glasses. He looked at her expectantly as he raised his eyebrows, bringing her a glass.
She stared at it as if it would jump out at her, her reflection waning in the amber liquid. She pulled her lips between her teeth, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed. “Not feeling it tonight.”
At that point, Harry knew something was wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, setting her—well, what was supposed to be hers—drink on the counter before he took a sip of his. “You sure y’alright?”
She brushed it off with a laugh, stepping toward him as he remained leaning against the counter. YN pressed a gentle kiss on his rum-slicked lips, cold to the touch. “You worry too much.”
He wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. “Rightfully so, m’love. Stubborn as a mule, you are.”
She scoffed, though only humor was laced in her tone. She pushed back from him, folding her arms over her chest with a feigned frown.
“What?” He smiled, taking another sip. “Should be titled an archeologist the way I dig for your heart.”
“Oh shut it, Styles. You’ve done no such thing.”
He laughed, placing his glass on the counter behind him and gently holding onto the edges. “You’re only proving my point, lovey.”
She rolled her eyes, flicking his chest before she began to step off toward the bedroom. YN looked over her shoulder expectantly with a sly smile. “You’re not gonna join me?”
She didn’t need to ask him twice.
He tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside as his wife’s laughter echoed down the hallway. She darted toward their bedroom, her giggles trailing behind her like music. Grabbing his glass from the counter and kicking off his shoes, he chased after her, a wide, mischievous grin lighting up his face.
There was a gloomy, gray sky the next morning, the kind where the clouds stretched thick across the sky, holding back any hint of sun. YN had woken up before dawn with a gnawing queasiness—a feeling that had been creeping up more often lately. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the discomfort.
She reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the small pregnancy test she ordered from doordash before the sun rose. She had tipped the dasher generously before staring at it in the restroom for what felt like hours. Her mind buzzed, unsteady with thoughts she couldn’t quite wrangle. The idea of being pregnant had only crossed her mind like a shooting star. She was nervous. They were still basking in the simplicity of their life, the unexpected quiet of their year-old marriage. This hadn’t been in the plan.
But here she was, two minutes ticking by like hours as she stared at the test resting on the edge of the sink.
And then, there it was.
Two blue lines.
Her heart raced, a mix of emotions she could barely process flooded her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel—excitement, worry, fear? It was all tangled together in a knot she didn’t have the strength to untangle. She felt a hint of guilt wash over her; how could she feel uncertain about something so beautiful? But it was real, and she knew it. This was so real.
She sank to the edge of the clawfoot tub in the small bathroom, hugging her arms around herself. She let herself sit there for a while, just breathing in and out, letting the realization wash over her like waves on a shore, eroding her hesitation bit by bit. Eventually, she felt a warmth begin to spread, a tentative but growing love, a sense that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.
Oh, god—but Harry.
Mere discussions about a hazy future never felt so prophetic.
Footsteps on the old wooden floor outside the bathroom brought her back to reality. Harry’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and sleepy, a mug clinking on the counter. “Love, you up?”
Her stomach twisted again, this time more with nerves than nausea. She took a deep breath, tucking the test in her hand and opening the door. As she stepped out, she found her husband leaning against the counter, his hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile on his face as he sipped from his mug.
“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper.
Harry raised an eyebrow, setting down his mug as he studied her face, his expression shifting to one of gentle concern. ”You’ve been off since yesterday, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”
YN took a breath, feeling the weight of the words she was about to speak. She crossed the small space between them, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she reached for his, and he immediately stilled, sensing her unease.
“Don’t freak out, okay?“ She said, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
Harry’s gaze softened, his fingers curling around hers. “Alright,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Swear it.”
She swallowed, her eyes dropping to where their hands joined, and finally, she managed to say it. “I’m–” she sighed, “I’m pregnant.”
The words hung in the air between them, and she felt his hand go still, his thumb pausing mid-stroke. She dared a glance up at his face, and in his eyes, she saw the shock she’d been expecting. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.
It was the longest silence she’d ever felt.
And then, slowly, a smile began to break across his face, soft at first, hesitant, but growing. His eyes sparkled with something she hadn’t expected—something gentle and pure, and so, so warm. “You’re… serious?”
She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips, a mix of nerves and relief. “Yeah. I know it’s not what we planned, and I—”
Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly as if he never wanted to let go. She felt his heartbeat racing against her cheek, felt the slight tremor in his breath as he held her.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “This is… I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, but…” He paused, his voice catching. “But, YN, this—this is everything.”
A smile broke across her face, the warmth in her chest growing, all her fears melting as she looked up at him. “Are you sure?”
Harry laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “I’m sure.” His eyes held hers, full of something she could only describe as love beyond anything she’d known before. “I mean, look at us. We’ve done everything backwards and upside down, haven’t we?” He chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Why not this too?”
They laughed together, and in that moment, all her worries felt so small, so distant. Harry pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her gently. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “We’re going to be parents?”
YN nodded, her own laughter mingling with tears she hadn’t realized were there. “I guess we are.”
Harry wrapped her up again, his arms strong and sure around her. “Our little family.” He looked around, a spark of excitement lighting his gaze. “The start of everything, right here.”
They stood there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet of the small cottage, a peacefulness settling over them. The morning light had started to creep in through the windows, casting a soft glow over them, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.
But as the initial excitement settled, the reality of the situation hit her hard. Morning sickness, which was more like all day sickness for YN, kicked in with a vengeance. She wondered what crime she may have committed in a past life to deserve such a karma.
She spent most of her mornings hunched over the toilet, her stomach in knots, while Harry hovered nearby, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll pass, baby.” He would say, though there was a flicker of worry in his eyes every time she retched.
The first trimester was rough. YN felt exhausted all the time, her body aching and her emotions all over the place. There were days when she could barely keep food down, and the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even stand the smell of Harry’s cologne.
But through it all, he was a constant source of support. He made her ginger tea in the mornings, rubbed her feet when they swelled, and stayed up late with her on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. He even held her hair back during the worst bouts of sickness, never once complaining or losing his patience.
Still, telling their friends and family was daunting. Anne had been thrilled, of course, immediately launching into grandma mode, talking about knitting booties and baby blankets. But YN worried about telling the public. Harry had always been fiercely protective of their privacy, and the idea of sharing something so intimate with the world felt overwhelming.
“I don’t want people to think anything bad of me.” She admitted to him one night as they lay in bed. She had spent the entire day feeling nauseous, and her nerves were frayed.
Harry propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her with a gentle smile. “No one’s going to think like that, baby.. And if they do, then screw ‘em. This is our family. No one else’s.”
His words, simple as they were, helped ease some of the anxiety gnawing at her. They would announce it when they were ready, and in the meantime, they would enjoy these private, intimate moments together.
A few weeks later, when YN was finally starting to feel a little better, they gathered their closest friends and family to tell them the news. Harry’s friend’s were among the first to know. They had gathered at their place in London, a casual get-together that didn’t feel too obvious or formal.
Jeff had been the first to catch on, his brow furrowing as he noticed YN sipping ginger ale instead of her usual glass of wine on occasions like these. “Wait a minute…” he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced between them. Oh God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?”
The room fell silent for a moment as Harry and YN exchanged a glance, a grin tugging at Harry’s lips. “Surprise!”
The room erupted into chaos. Mitch nearly fell out of his chair, laughing and shouting congratulations at the same time. Pauli looked like he might cry, and Sarah immediately started teasing Harry about how he’d better get used to sleepless nights.
“You two are gonna be knackered for the next eighteen years,” she quipped, though there was a deep affection in her eyes as she clapped Harry on the back. “But you’ll be great parents. I know it.”
As the weeks continued to pass and YN’s belly began to show, Harry’s excitement seemed to grow right along with it. He took over more and more of the household chores, practically hovering over her with a devotion that was both endearing and—just occasionally—a little over the top. But that was Harry; he never did anything halfway, and preparing to become a dad was no exception.
One evening, after a long day, they lay in bed, YN nestled against Harry’s chest as he rested a hand on her belly. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her small bump, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.
“Have y’thought about names?” he asked quietly, voice almost a murmur. There was a trace of wonder in his eyes, as if he were asking the question for the first time.
She smiled, shrugging lightly. The idea of names had been floating around in her mind for a while, but nothing had quite felt right yet. “Mm, I’ve got a few in mind,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Think I’m just gonna call ’em Fetus for now.”
Harry let out a laugh, his face lighting up as he shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said, voice full of warmth. He shifted lower, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. “Fetus Styles,” he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her gently, sending a spark of laughter through her.
Her smile never faltered, fingers combing through his curls as he settled his head on her bump, gazing up at her through his lashes. He held her gaze for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin, blowing raspberries onto her belly with glint in his eye.
She laughed, Harry faltering into her growing tummy as his phone began to ting with a mess of texts. He grabbed his phone that lay upon his wife’s thighs, sitting up beside her against the headboard with a wide smile as the phone illuminated his face.
She knit her eyebrows together, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Who has you smiling?”
He unlocked his phone, “Lou. I told him I had to talk to him tonight.”
She laughed as Harry clicked on the contact, pressing the facetime icon as the ringing filled the air. “It’s what..?” She trailed off, flickering her eyes in thought. “Noon in LA? Surprised he’s even up.”
After a beat, the screen flashed to life, and there he was—Louis, bleary-eyed, half-sprawled across his couch, nursing a mug of tea. He squinted at the screen, a smirk forming as he took them both in.
“Bloody ‘ell, look at you two all cozy!” He drawled, taking a sip. “Thought I was interrupting somethin’.” He chuckled, giving them a teasing wink.
Harry rolled his eyes, holding the phone between them. “Shut up. We’re just havin’ a quiet night in.” He glanced over at YN, then back at the screen, his grin a little wider. “‘Nd I needed to talk t’you, yeah?”
Louis’s smirk softened, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Right. What’s this then?”
He took a quick breath, almost unable to keep the smile off his face as he turned the phone back to YN, who gave Louis a warm smile before glancing at Harry. He squeezed her shoulder, then looked back to the screen, letting the words tumble out. “We’re havin’ a baby!”
For a moment, Louis just stared, the mug paused halfway to his lips as he absorbed the words. His mouth broke into a grin, and he let out a laugh. “Oi, you’re pullin’ my leg!” He leaned closer, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, you’re serious, aren’t ya?”
“Dead serious,” YN said, her voice gentle as she leaned in closer to Harry. “We’ve known for a few weeks now, but wanted to tell you ourselves.”
He sat up straighter, rubbing a hand over his face as he took it in, his grin somehow widening. “Jesus, Haz. A dad,” he mused, a playful sparkle in his eye. “I mean, didn’t see this comin’ back when you were too busy worryin’ about a pair of blue suede shoes to think about nappies.”
Harry let out a laugh, playfully nudging YN. “See, I’m just followin’ y’example, mate.”
Louis snorted, giving a mock scowl. “Better be—Freddie’s halfway to graduating high school it feels like. You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.” He settled back into the couch, softening as he looked at them both. “But seriously, this is brilliant, you two. Gonna make one hell of a mum and dad, aren’t ya?”
Harry glanced over at YN, his gaze lingering, soft and full of a quiet pride. “Hope so,” he said, smiling down at her before turning back to Louis. “Just been… sittin’ with it. So many things I wanna teach ’em, y’know?”
“Best get started on that lullaby playlist, then,” Lou teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Bet you’re already plannin’ that first guitar lesson.”
YN laughed, rubbing a hand over her belly. “It’s just been a whirlwind, honestly. We haven’t even found out the gender yet.”
Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Surprise ’n all? Makes it even better. Though if y’need tips on anythin’, I’ve got all the dad tricks—like what not to say when they’re askin’ questions in front of their mum.”
“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Start a whole book for me, will ya?”
Lou winked, lifting his mug. “Already makin’ notes. First chapter’s on nappies and the art of avoidin’ baby food on your shirt.” Then, his expression softened as he leaned closer. “Nah, for real. Couldn’t be happier for you two. And for that kid, too. Already got the best start with you both.”
Harry swallowed, his hand finding YN’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he held his friend’s gaze through the screen. “Means a lot, you’ll be his grumpy, old uncle, yeah?”
Louis grinned, nodding with a playful glint in his eye. “Best be—I’ll have ’em singin’ the chorus to No Control by the time I’m done. YN, darling, don’t you worry—I’ll keep him in line.”
YN chuckled, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that, Lou.”
“Damn right you will,” Louis shot back, settling back against his couch, eyes full of pride and a mischievous excitement. “And when I’m back over, s’gonna be you two doin’ the nappies, while I teach that kid how to annoy his dad.”
Harry feigned a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Cheers, mate.” Louis raised his mug, a glimmer of something genuine in his gaze. “Can’t wait. Love you both, yeah?”
Harry grinned, feeling the weight of Louis’s words. “Love you, too, Lou. Cheers.”
And as they hung up, YN nestled closer, both of them feeling the joy of sharing their secret with someone who’d been there for it all.
A few months had passed, and YN was officially eighteen weeks pregnant. The kitchen was quiet, filled with the warm scent of vanilla as Harry carefully set a single white cupcake on the counter. He’d insisted on something private, just the two of them. No big reveal party or confetti—just a simple cupcake with the surprise hidden inside. YN stood beside him, hands resting on her bump, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched him fuss over it.
“You’re really gonna make me cry over a cupcake, aren’t you?” she teased, nudging him lightly.
Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at her, dimples deepening. “Just y’wait.” He handed her the small knife, his fingers brushing hers, and his voice softened. “Ready?”
She nodded, her heartbeat picking up as she sliced through the cupcake. Slowly, she pulled the two halves apart, then stared down at the filling inside.
Bright green.
For a moment, they both froze, staring down in complete confusion. Harry tilted his head, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed as he looked at her, then back at the cupcake. “Uh… m’pretty sure green wasn’t one of the options.”
YN snorted, a laugh bubbling out as she lifted the cupcake up to inspect it. “Maybe they’re tellin’ us we’re having a little Niall?”
Harry’s eyes crinkled as he burst into laughter, clutching his chest. “God help us if there’s a little Irish guitar player in there.”
She grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “You think they’ll come out singin’ ‘Mull of Kintyre’?”
Harry laughed, covering his face with his hand. “First words’ll be potato, just y’watch.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “This is what we get for trustin’ a bloody cupcake.”
She rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag on the counter. “Should’ve gone with the doctor’s letter instead of dessert.” After a moment of rummaging, she triumphantly held up the small, folded envelope, smiling. “Alright, now you ready?”
Harry nodded, moving closer, his hand resting gently over hers as she slowly unfolded the paper. They both took a breath, glancing at each other before reading the bold, printed words inside.
Right underneath a blurry ultrasound picture printed onto the visit summary, there it was written.
Fetal sex: Male
For a heartbeat, they both just stared at the words, the realization washing over them like a warm tide.
“A little boy,” Harry murmured, his voice filled with awe as he shook his head in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a son.”
YN’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a wide smile breaking across her face. “A son,” she repeated softly, her hand covering his on her belly. Already, she could see him—a little boy with Harry’s eyes, his laughter, his kindness.
Harry swallowed, his own eyes misty as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then resting his against hers. “Think we’re ready for him?”
She let out a soft laugh, brushing away a tear. “Not even close,” she whispered, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “But I think we’ll do just fine.”
It was mid February by this point, a few weeks after celebrating Harry’s twenty-fifth birthday. The air had a sharp chill, and YN readjusted Harry’s oversized hoodie that hung off her growing frame, something that hid her bump well. They were dressed comfy and warm, Harry in a pair of sunnies with his hoodie pulled over his head. She nestled closer into her husband as they walked through the quiet side streets of London. They’d just finished lunch at their favorite café, savoring the rare chance to slip out together unnoticed. She pulled the hoodie over her head as a gust of wind brushed by.
“Wish we had days like this more often,” Harry murmured, his fingers lacing through hers as they made their way back to the car. “Just us, y’know?”
She smiled, leaning into him. “You mean just the two of us and fetus?”
Harry squeaked out a laugh that sounded like the ones from his early days in the x-factor, squeezing her hand. “Right, fetus. Can’t forget our little tagalong now.”
But as they turned onto the next street, something shifted—a distant hum of voices, then a sharp click of a camera. Before they could react, the quiet street filled with flashes, and a group of paparazzi materialized around them, spilling onto the sidewalk.
It wasn’t a swarm, just about five or so that were tipped off about Harry walking about the city in a pair of sunnies, as if that could keep him hidden.
“Harry! Harry! Just one photo!” A bald man shouted, pushing forward. The camera flashes came in rapid succession, blinding in the midday light.
He immediately shifted, drawing YN closer to his side, his hand protectively resting into her waist as he tried to steer her forward. “Alright, mate, that’s close enough,” he called out, his voice tense but calm.
“Harry, are the rumors true?” another voice shouted, barely inches from them, more cameras held up like a barrier.
“Just please let us through, yeah?” Harry’s voice was firmer now, his hand moving to shield YN’s face, pressing her into his chest as the crowd closed in tighter.
A jostle from the side sent her stumbling, and Harry’s arm tightened around her, his jaw clenched. “Hey, enough!” he barked, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her forward, his body acting as a buffer as he tried to clear a path.
“Just one shot, Harry!” a paparazzo persisted, his lens pointed squarely at YN, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed her face further into his chest, her heart pounding as she held onto Harry.
He shot a glare of his shoulder, jaw clenched as he remained silent, maneuvering his wife past the cameras, his hand never leaving her. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he led her through the last stretch to his car.
Finally reaching the door, he opened it for her, a quick but steady gesture, ushering her in and following right after. The cameras pressed in one last time as he shut the door firmly, finally sealing them off from the swarm outside.
Inside, the car was quiet, insulated from the chaos that still buzzed outside, windows tinted as legally possible. YN let out a shaky breath, her hands in her hoodie pocket as she glanced over at Harry. His face was flushed, a mix of worry and lingering frustration in his eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice gentler now, his hand pulling hers out of the pocket, thumb brushing over her knuckles as he studied her face.
She nodded with a faint smile, trying to steady herself. “Not our first rodeo, H.” She tried to joke. And it was true, it surely wasn’t the first time they’ve been bombarded by paps. YN wasn’t famous prior to meeting Harry, a smart girl as beautiful as she, he simply couldn’t ignore.
She was a friend of Anne’s best friend’s daughter, bumping into each other at a family gathering in 2014, immediately becoming close friends. He offered her a ride home that night, and when she thanked him profusely and offered to give him gas money, he knew then and there he was going to fall in love with this woman.
Fans and paps galore started delving into her life in late 2015, when a grainy picture of them kissing at a bar after a London show exploded on twitter. Since then, she always known about the lack of privacy in Harry’s life. And honestly, she’s still trying to adjust to it.
He exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers. “Hate that they got that close to you. Wish they’d just..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he glanced out the window, his gaze hardening when he saw the cameras still lingering in the distance.
She squeezed his hand, her voice soft. “It’s alright, baby. I’m alright.” She could see the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, though he still held her hand as if anchoring himself. “They don’t know, and that’s okay for now. It’s just us, remember?”
Harry nodded as he pulled from the curb, driving down the narrow street toward the red light. He turned back to her, his green eyes softening, and he nodded slowly. “Just us. Right.” His shoulders relaxed a little more, a trace of a smile returning to his face as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead while the light was still red.
But before he could pull away, she let out a small gasp, eyes widening as she felt a firm, insistent little nudge low on her belly. She looked up at him, her own hand moving instinctively to her bump.
Green illuminated over them, a honking echoing from behind as he froze in concern. “What?” He breathed, turning a corner to head to the grocery store in the distance, seeking a temporary refuge in the parking lot. He glanced between YN and the road, heart beating in his ears. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He raised his voice, though it wasn’t out of anger, just an anxiety that threatened to boil over.
She shook her head, her face breaking into a soft smile. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry. He just kicked.”
Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his frustration melting away as he stared at her, a grin forming slowly. “He did?”
She nodded, pulling his hand to her belly as he parked. “Right here. Just now.”
He held his breath, his palm pressed against her bump, waiting. And there it was again—a tiny but unmistakable kick, nudging firmly against his hand.
Harry’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole expression softening with awe. “Oi, there’s my little striker,” he mused, his voice thick with affection as he looked down at her belly. “We’ll have you in a Man United kit before you’re out of nappies, won’t we?”
She laughed, his words melting away the last traces of tension from the encounter outside. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Picking his team and all?”
He grinned, his eyes crinkling with pure excitement. “No chance he’ll be an Arsenal player.. First kicks mean we’ve got a future midfielder on our hands, yeah?” He grinned, “Dads gonna make sure y’got the right colors on you, bub.”
YN couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling as she watched the joy take over his face. She reached up, tucking a curl behind his ear, her fingers lingering against his cheek. “He’s already got you wrapped around his tiny little foot.”
Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss her, his hand still resting against her belly, feeling another small nudge. “S’pose I’ll let him get away with it. Just this once.”
*
March arrived in a blink.
It was early, the kind of early that still belonged to the night, when Harry’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. The world outside was still draped in darkness, the streets silent, as if London itself hadn’t quite woken up. Harry stirred, slowly pulled from the depths of sleep by the vibration of his phone. He squinted in the dim light, his vision blurry, barely able to make out the name on the screen. Jeff.
With a quiet sigh, Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear and trying to shake off the last bits of sleep that clung to him. He glanced over to YN, who lay nestled beside him, her breathing soft and even, lost in a peaceful slumber. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a tired but adoring smile tugging at his lips. She stirred slightly, her head nuzzling into his hand, and he felt a warmth rise in his chest. Moments like this felt sacred, untouched by the outside world.
But then Jeff’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and apologetic.
“Harry,” Jeff said, his tone low and serious, as if he wished he were calling for any other reason. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we’ve got a situation.”
Harry straightened, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. “What is it, mate?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to wake YN just yet. He kept his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin, grounding himself as he listened.
“There’s a magazine,” Jeff continued with a hesitant sigh. “They got photos of you and YN leaving the clinic yesterday after the ultrasound. They’re planning to release them tomorrow—noon sharp.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry’s jaw tightened after he took a shaky breath, his eyes falling back on YN, still blissfully asleep. They’d planned everything so carefully, wanting to share the news of their son on their own terms. They’d waited for the perfect moment, wanting to protect this piece of their life from the relentless intrusion of the outside world. And now, it was slipping out of their hands.
“Tomorrow?” he murmured, his heart pounding. He felt a surge of anger rising, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. Jeff waited in silence on the other end of the line, letting him process the news.
“Yeah,” Jeff said softly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. Figured you’d want to tell people yourselves, do it in a way that feels right.”
Harry nodded, even though Jeff couldn’t see him, his fingers still resting on YN’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. “Thanks, Jeff,” he finally whispered, his voice tight. “I’ll–erm–we’ll figure it out.”
He ended the call and placed the phone back on the table, his shoulders slumping as he tried to process what to do next. He looked down at YN, her face peaceful in the darkness, and he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking her. She deserved this moment of rest, free from worry and the weight of the world pressing in on them. But he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when it was about their son.
Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he murmured softly, “Baby, wake up.”
She stirred, her brows knitting together as she blinked up at him, still half-asleep, a faint smile gracing her lips as she registered his face. “H?” she whispered, her voice groggy and warm. “What time is it?”
“Too early,” he murmured, his own voice weighed down by the news he had to deliver. “Sorry t’wake you, but there’s something we need t‘talk about.”
Her eyes focused, a flicker of concern replacing the drowsiness as she sat up a bit, her hand resting on his. “What’s wrong?”
Harry took a deep breath, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It’s the pictures,” he paused with a sigh, “from yesterday, after our appointment. Paparazzi took photos, and they’re planning to release them by noon tomorrow.”
The weight of his words settled over her, and she let out a quiet sigh, her gaze dropping to the bed. They’d known this was a possibility—their lives were never entirely private—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She leaned into his touch, her fingers lacing through his as they both sat there in the stillness of the early morning, grappling with the realization that their hand was being forced.
“What do we do?” she asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and sadness.
Harry’s hand moved to hold hers, his grip gentle but steady. “We tell everyone ourselves. Today. We’ll release it before they can, on our own terms.” He paused, his voice softening. “It’s not what we planned, but, at least we can still share him with the world our way.”
YN gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a quiet resilience. They both knew they didn’t have any other choice. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they took a moment to steady themselves, finding strength in each other.
“Okay,” she murmured after a beat. “I trust you.”
They spent the next hour in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, talking about how to share the news. Eventually, Harry decided on something simple, something that would feel personal without giving too much away. He reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery, scrolling until he found the ultrasound image from their last appointment. It was a grainy black-and-white shot, but to him, it was beautiful—a glimpse of their son, small and precious, already loved beyond measure.
He glanced at YN, who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he took a deep breath, opening Instagram. With his fingers hovering over the screen, he crafted the caption, choosing each word carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.
I’ve been waiting to share this part of our journey with you all for a while now. YN and I are expecting a son, and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him into the world soon. Thank you for your love and support—can’t wait for you to meet him.
Love, H
He read it over, then looked at YN, who leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s perfect, baby”
With a final deep breath, he hit post, setting the phone down and letting out a long, steadying exhale. They sat there in the quiet of their room, wrapped up in each other as the reality of what they’d just done settled over them. This was the first time they were sharing their son with the world, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
Within moments, notifications began to flood in, messages of excitement, love, and support from fans around the world who had been waiting eagerly for news like this. Harry glanced at YN, his hand finding hers once more as he gave her a small, relieved smile.
”Cats out’v the bag.” He laughed softly.
She leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “They love you, H. They’ll love him, too.” She reassured.
As the sun finally began to rise outside their window, casting a gentle warmth over the room, Harry held her close, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. Despite the forced timing, despite the circumstances, they had done this together. And from this moment on, they would continue this journ, hand in hand, as a family.
Weeks passed by, and it another chilly March evening, and soft candlelight flickered in the bathroom, casting a warm glow over the walls as steam rose lazily from the tub. The couple sat tucked into the water, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles that floated between them. The bathroom was cozy as Harry’s arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against his chest, her bump nestled between them.
He’d insisted on running the bath for her, adding just the right amount of lavender oil to soothe her muscles, and now they were enveloped in that warm, calming scent, the soft sounds of water lapping around them. Harry’s hands rested gently on her belly, his fingers tracing light circles over the stretched skin as he hummed contentedly, clearly lost in thought.
After a few minutes of quiet, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring, “You know, we haven’t really settled on a name yet.”
YN grinned, biting back a laugh. "Sure we have. Fetus Styles—don’t you remember?”
Harry groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the tub. "God help this boy."
She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. "Fine, fine. So, what do you have in mind, love?"
Harry hummed thoughtfully, his fingers still tracing light circles over her bump. "I dunno. Something that isn’t Fetus or something basic, like David.”
"Otis?" she suggested with a playful smirk. She knew he hated the name.
He snorted, his chest vibrating against her back, shaking his head. "Baby, Otis is the name of that big slobbery dog at the park. Our son deserves better than being named after a drool machine."
She playfully splashed a few bubbles toward him, her laughter filling the room.. "Alright, alright. So, we're vetoing Otis and Fetus, oh wise one.”
“Good,” he said, lowering his head ever so slightly and nibbling her shoulders gently. “So, what else is on your list, then?”
She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to recall some of the names she’d been turning over in her mind. “I do like Ezra.”
“Ezra,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it. “It’s alright. But it sounds like he’d be in a jazz band or something.”
“Maybe he’ll be in a jazz band,” she countered, grinning as she nudged his arm. “A little musician just like his dad.”
Harry hummed, his fingers lightly drumming a rhythm against her belly. “Alright, fair point. Ezra can be a maybe. What else?”
She let out a thoughtful hum, swirling her hand through the bubbles. “What about August?”
“August’s alright I guess,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he considered it. “But I don’t know. August Styles..feels like he’d be a mischievous little troublemaker.”
“Like his dad, you mean?” she teased, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.
He grinned, shrugging. “If he takes after me, he’ll definitely be one,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I dunno. Still doesn’t feel quite right. But I do like the idea of an A name.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts as the water lapped softly around them. Harry’s hands moved back to her belly, his touch gentle and reverent, as if he were trying to connect with their son through the warm water and the growing curve of her bump. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of the bath and the feeling of his arms around her.
After a while, Harry spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful. “What about Atlas?”
YN opened her eyes, blinking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Atlas?”
“Yeah.” He shifted slightly, his hand still resting on her belly as he looked at her, his eyes warm. “It’s strong, y’know? Unique. I like the idea of him having a name that feels like he could carry the world if he wanted to.”
YN let the name settle, repeating it to herself, and feeling it take root, becoming more than just a word. “Atlas Styles,” she said softly, letting the sound roll off her tongue. “It fits him, I think. Strong like his kicks.” She giggled.
Harry’s face lit up as he grinned down at her, his dimples deepening, a twinkle of something unspoken sparking in his eyes. “Exactly,” he murmured, trailing a hand gently over her bump. “Atlas Styles. Got the name of a proper legend already. Manchester United should be countin’ themselves lucky.”
YN laughed again, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. “Oh, really? Our boy is still going to save Manchester United, is he?”
“Obviously,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Just imagine it—Atlas Styles, midfield maestro, dominating the pitch. The crowd chanting his name.” He mimics the sound of a roaring crowd in a hush, “‘Atlas! Atlas!” He chanted in a whisper, “United will have never seen anything like him. They’d be winning the league every season with a name like that.”
She shook her head, fighting a laugh as she slipped a few bubbles onto his nose. “Right, because he won’t be busy enough carrying the world. He’ll just take Manchester United on his back too?”
Harry shrugged, brushing the bubbles away with a look of mock seriousness. “Our little Atlas can handle it all. With a name like that, he’ll be unstoppable.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, if he’s not into football, I s’pose that’s alright too.”
YN smiled, squeezing his hand, warmth spreading through her as she thought of their little Atlas and all the dreams they had for him—footballer or not, world-bearer or not, he would be loved beyond measure.
*
The rain pattered softly against the window as April rolled in, casting a gentle gray light over the nursery. YN stood by the door, watching Harry wrestle with the crib pieces scattered across the floor. She cradled her belly, which had grown significantly in the last month. Her due date was set for mid-May, only a few weeks away, and she could feel the weight of their son settling lower, as if he, too, was getting ready for the journey ahead.
Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he squinted at the instruction manual. The crib, which he had eagerly declared would be a breeze to assemble, now looked more like puzzle pieces that lay scattered around him, screws and wooden slats in disarray, as he muttered under his breath.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” YN asked with a soft grin, leaning against the doorway as she watched him struggle.
He looked up, shooting her a playful glare. “I’ve got it, thanks,” he insisted, though he seemed far from convinced himself. He twisted a screwdriver, only for the wood to creak ominously in protest. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and YN bit her lip, stifling a laugh.
“Sure you do,” she teased, crossing her arms over her bump. “Maybe our son will be crawling by the time you figure that out.”
Harry chuckled, dropping the screwdriver with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he gave her a dramatic pout. “Go on, laugh at the man trying his best to be a good dad. Just what I need, huh?”
She laughed, stepping into the room to get a closer look at his progress—or lack thereof. “You’re doing great, honey,” she said, her tone light. “Maybe just… not great at building cribs?”
He rolled his eyes, but the hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” he mumbled. Then, before she could respond, he reached out, gently tugging her down to sit beside him.
“Hey!” she gasped, though she let him guide her down, leaning into his arms. Her back rested against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
He maneuvered her gently onto the carpet, hovering over as his hands resting on either side of her, leaning close, his face only inches from hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I should distract you so y’can’t mock me,” he murmured, his voice teasing.
Before she could respond, he started peppering her face with kisses—one on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She squealed, laughing as he continued, his lips brushing against her skin, his stubble tickling her and sending her into a fit of giggles.
“Harry!” she gasped between breaths, her hands on his shoulders as she tried to squirm away. “You’re ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous?” he repeated, grinning as he planted a kiss just above her lips. “Maybe. But it’s working, isn’t it?”
She gave him a playful shove, but he only laughed, pulling her closer as he trailed his kisses down to her neck, the weight of him comforting as he hovered over her, his hands gentle on her sides. Finally, when her laughter had softened, he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze warm and full of affection.
God, how he loved her.
After a moment, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “Alright,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at the mess of crib parts. “Maybe I could use those hands of yours.”
YN smiled, brushing her hand down his chest. “Hm,” she hummed, “where?”
“Oi!” The brunette giggled, swatting her wandering hand away as he sat up, shifting to be beside her. “Wicked woman, you are. Get to work.”
She huffed, although there was no anger residing in her. Maybe an ache between her thighs, but that’s something she could sort out with her husband later. She sat up, sitting cross legged beside Harry as he reached for the instruction manual.
The two of them sat side by side on the nursery floor, her hand resting over his as they sorted through the crib parts. Harry studied the instructions once more, pointing out the next few steps with a renewed confidence that was helped by her steady presence beside him. YN held the pieces steady while Harry carefully tightened each screw, the two of them working together, their laughter filling the room whenever something went slightly wrong.
Finally, after some teamwork, a bit of trial and error, and more than a few shared smiles, they placed the last piece into place, and the crib stood finished in front of them. They both sat back, admiring their handiwork, their hands intertwined as they took in the sight of the nursery coming together, piece by piece.
Harry looked over at YN, his gaze soft as he took in her face, still flushed from laughter. “Not bad for a couple of first-timers, huh?”
She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding her hands out in front of them and wiggling her fingers. “Thanks to these.”
He snorted, gently taking her chin in his grasp to force her to look at him. “Shut up and kiss me.”
As time passed by quicker than ever, spring took the city by full force, it was finally May. Flowers bloomed in their garden, trees shook with the delicate breeze of a looming summer. The sun fell behind the hills later and later, still offering a golden glow as they ate dinner.
A gentle rain drummed against the windows as YN and Harry shared a cozy dinner on the sofa, the warm light of a movie and fading sunlight flickering across their faces. They were nestled together, plates balanced on laps (and bump) as they laughed at an old comedy. Outside, the world felt comfortably distant. Everything about this moment felt ordinary, like the calm before a long-anticipated storm.
But YN hadn’t been entirely honest with Harry tonight. She had felt a dull ache creeping into her lower back and belly since late afternoon, a sensation she had brushed off as yet another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. Her OB had warned her that false alarms would be common in these final weeks, and she’d already had a few where they’d rushed to the hospital only to be sent back home. So tonight, she’d told herself that it was nothing—just her body practicing, nothing more. But as they watched the movie, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, her breaths deepening whenever another wave rolled through her.
The contractions had grown stronger as they ate, each one hitting her lower back with a dull, throbbing ache before tightening sharply across her belly. She bit her lip, forcing a smile whenever Harry glanced her way, trying to play it off. But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed or the cold bead of sweat she felt on her brow as she worked to stay composed.
As they finished their dinner, Harry stretched and stood, gathering their plates with a grin. “Think I’ll wash these up. You just sit there and relax, yeah?”
She smiled, nodding as he carried their dishes into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he washed the plates, oblivious to the intensity of the pain building within her. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sofa as a new wave hit, this one sharper than before, radiating from her lower back and spreading between her hips, each pulse making her muscles contract and tighten. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her mind racing as she tried to convince herself it was nothing.
But then, as she watched Harry rinse a glass, her vision blurred with another wave of pain—deeper, sharper, as if her body was tightening from the inside out. Her breath hitched, and this time she couldn’t hide the small gasp that escaped her. She braced herself against the sofa, her fingers digging into the fabric as she fought to breathe through it.
Harry looked over, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tension on her face. He set the glass down in the sink, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped back into the living room. “Love?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You alright?”
She forced a smile, trying to play it off, but her voice came out strained. “I’m fine. Just–“ She grunted, “Braxton Hicks, I think.” But even as she spoke, it was like an aftershock of an earthquake, stealing her breath, the pain sharper than before. Her hand flew to her belly, fingers pressing down instinctively, and she had to close her eyes, focusing all her energy on breathing through it.
Harry’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he knelt beside her, his hand moving to rest on her knee. “That doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks,” he said gently, his voice laced with concern. “How long’s this been going on?”
She hesitated, looking down as she tried to keep her breathing composed. “Since– since earlier this afternoon,” she admitted, wincing as the pain reached its peak, leaving her feeling helpless and raw. “I thought it was nothing, really. But it’s–I dunno– it’s getting worse.”
Harry’s face shifted from concern to something closer to alarm. He was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to process her words, before his gaze softened, and he slid his hand to hers, squeezing it gently. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “We’re not going to take any chances.”
YN nodded, relief flooding her at the calm resolve in his voice, but as she tried to stand, another contraction gripped her—this time harder than any before. It started as a dull ache that quickly sharpened into an almost searing pressure, as though her whole belly was clenching in waves she couldn’t control. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly as she clutched Harry’s arm.
Harry’s eyes widened as he caught her, his face shifting into a worried frown. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost to himself, before shaking off the shock and focusing on her. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back down to the sofa with a gentle firmness. “We’re going t’breathe through this one, yeah? Just like we practiced.”
She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought to steady her breathing, but the pain was relentless, each wave feeling sharper than the last. Her body felt like it was working against her, every muscle tightening until she was gasping, unable to fully catch her breath. She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice a shaky whisper. “H, this hurts more than I thought it would.”
He brushed a hand through her hair, his voice soft but unwavering as he held her close. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. Just focus on breathing, alright? I’ve got you.”
As the contraction faded, she managed to catch her breath, slumping slightly against him, feeling a mix of exhaustion and dread for what was coming next. She felt his hand at the small of her back, steadying her, and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch, the calm he radiated even as she could see the worry flickering in his eyes.
“We’re calling the OB,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This doesn’t feel like false labor, does it?”
She shook her head, unable to deny the reality that had settled in. “No..I think this is real.”
Harry’s face softened, a mix of pride and worry as he watched her breathe through everything. When the pain passed, he took her face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice steady. “We’re going to get you through this, love. One breath at a time.”
With that, he stood, reaching for his phone and dialing their OB, staying right by her side as the call connected. He answered each of the doctor’s questions carefully, glancing at YN between each answer, his hand never leaving hers. After a few minutes, he hung up and turned back to her, a mixture of excitement and resolve in his gaze.
“She says it sounds like early labor,” he told her softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re going t’the hospital. Just you and me, hm?”
YN nodded, taking a steadying breath as she leaned into him, his strength anchoring her. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she knew that she had everything she needed to get through this.
The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle as Harry helped YN into the car, settling her carefully into the passenger seat, his hands gentle but steady. Her breaths were deep and focused, each one an effort to keep herself calm as the contractions continued, not close enough to urge a rush but strong enough to leave her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Harry buckled her in, his gaze warm and reassuring as he brushed his hand over her shoulder.
“You’re doing great, sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Next stop, hospital. Just you, me, and our little Atlas.”
YN managed a faint smile, squeezing his hand as he lingered beside her for a moment before closing the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from their quiet street, its headlights cutting through the misty drizzle, as they made their way into the city. She leaned her head back against the seat, focusing on the rhythm of the rain tapping against the windows, letting the steady sound settle her mind.
As they drove, Harry glanced over at her frequently, his hand occasionally drifting from the wheel to hold hers. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or if I need to pull over. Anything at all.”
He rambled when he was nervous.
YN nodded, keeping her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Another contraction started, gripping her with that same deep ache that radiated from her back to her belly. She clenched his hand, squeezing as she focused on her breathing, her fingers white-knuckling against his. It was painful, but she willed herself to relax, to breathe through the intensity, letting her breath match the gentle rhythm of the rain.
Harry squeezed her hand back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. “Out of all women in the world who gave birth, you’re the most beautiful.” He smiled warily. His stupid compliment even made him want to smack himself upside the head. But he looked at his wife expectantly.
When the contraction passed, she released a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to shoot daggers into him with a glare, but looking at that goofy smile she fell in love with, the way his cheeks flushed pink and eyes looked unsure, she couldn’t. She mustered out a weak, breathy laugh.”Shut up.” She whispered.
They reached the hospital, and Harry pulled up to the lot, parking the car before rushing around to help her out. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her through the automatic doors, his gaze steady and protective as he led her to the reception desk. The lobby was quiet, lit by soft fluorescent lights that made the polished floors gleam. Harry gently rubbed her back as they reached the counter, where a man with glasses and a walkie looked up with a polite smile.
“Hi,” Harry said, his voice calm but firm, “we’re here for an admission. Our OB requested it.” He grinned lightly, seeking to be polite despite his nerves. He gave his wife’s name through his smile.
The receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer before glancing back at YN, who was gripping Harry’s hand, her face pale and tense. After a moment, the man looked up. “Alright, we have you here. Just a moment.”
He picked up the phone, speaking briefly with someone before hanging up and nodding toward them. “Patient transport is on the way. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and up to the maternity ward to get settled.”
Harry thanked him, his hand resting on the small of her back, he murmured, “y’doing so well, my sweet girl.”
She leaned into him, exhaling a shaky breath as another mild contraction started to creep in, but before she could fully brace herself, a transport worker arrived with a wheelchair.
Harry helped her ease down into it, kneeling beside her and brushing his thumb over her hand. She looked down at him, her expression a mix of pain and determination. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her words braver than she felt.
He met her gaze, his eyes full of pride and unwavering support. “I know you are,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he stood and walked beside her as they made their way to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, each floor lighting up in sequence as they ascended to the maternity ward, and she found herself counting each breath, each second, each floor, until they finally reached the unit.
Once inside the labor and delivery ward, they were greeted by a nurse who led them into a dimly lit room that felt strangely peaceful, its walls painted a soft pink, the lights warm and low. The nurse introduced herself, her voice calm and soothing as she helped YN settle onto the bed, helping her into a hospital gown before taking her vital signs and asking a series of questions, jotting down notes while Harry sat by her side, holding her hand.
“Let’s get you as comfortable as we can,” the nurse said gently, adjusting the bed’s settings. “Now, you’re still in early labor, so we’re going to monitor you closely, but it could be a while yet.”
YN nodded, feeling both grateful and anxious at the prospect of waiting. The contractions continued, rolling in like waves, growing in intensity but not yet regular enough to signal active labor. Each one required her full focus; she found herself closing her eyes, breathing deeply as she squeezed Harry’s hand, centering herself with each wave of pain.
Hours passed, the pain deepening with each contraction as her body adjusted, stretching and preparing for the arrival of their son. The nurse checked in periodically, taking notes, adjusting her position, and checking her dilation with gentle reassurance, but progress was slow. The contractions were more frequent now, each one a sharp, relentless pressure that seemed to radiate from deep within her, pulling her to the very edge of her endurance.
Harry never left her side, his hand a steady anchor as he held hers, his voice low and soothing, guiding her through each breath. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together. “Just a bit longer, yeah? You got it.”
At one point, the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn’t bear to sit still. Harry helped her stand, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest. Her arms draped over his shoulders, clinging to him as she rocked back and forth, swaying through each contraction, finding relief in the gentle rhythm. He whispered words of encouragement, his hands rubbing her back as she trembled against him, each wave of pain stealing her breath and leaving her gasping.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice a steady hum that she latched onto, focusing on the warmth of his words as the pain pulsed through her. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”
She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain reached a peak, her knees weakening under the weight of it. But Harry held her up, his arms strong and steady, supporting her fully as she swayed, letting the movement carry her through each contraction. She pressed her forehead into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, keeping her anchored in the storm of pain.
When the nurse checked again, the news was disheartening—only a few more centimeters dilated. YN felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, the hours of labor sapping her strength, but Harry was there, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, whispering soft reassurances as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder.
As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew sharper, more intense, each one like a wave crashing against her, forcing her to draw deeper into herself just to withstand the pain. Harry eased her back onto the bed, pulling a mask toward her face, releasing a gas that would help the pain. Her mind blurred under the relentless rhythm of labor. Yet, every time she opened her eyes, he was there—his gaze steady, his hand in hers, his words like an anchor.
She held the mask to her face with her other hand, breathing it in deeply. As backward as it sounded, even laboring and pushing out a baby, the thought of a seven inch needle being put into her spine scared her even more. The thought of an epidural was tempting, being numbed from the waist down—but it made her stomach churn with anxiety, too. She had enough of that already, so she stuck to the gas.
YN lifted the gas from her nose, staring at Harry through half lidded eyes. “Can’t wait to have sex with you in six weeks.” She mumbled, her voice hazy.
Harry eased the mask back onto her, his cheeks growing red from her clouded words. He let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, one step at a time, hm?”
At last, as dawn began to break outside, the sunlight bleak, barely there. The nurse’s expression shifted as she checked YN’s progress. She smiled, looking up with gentle relief. “We’re almost there,” she said softly. “Just a little bit longer.”
Harry’s face lit up, his eyes shining as he looked down at YN, his voice soft and full of pride. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, brushing strands of her hair back. “Hear that? Final stretch, baby.”
YN nodded, too exhausted to respond, but the warmth in his eyes gave her the strength to keep going. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she faced the final contractions, the pain almost blinding but her determination carrying her through, and Harry’s voice guiding her every step of the way.
Once she was ten centimeters, a team rushed in. Two nurses and the OB. Her legs were placed into stirrups, her gown bunched up over her tummy.
It was the longest, most intense thirteen hours of her life, but as she felt the final waves of pain, the medical staff guided her through the last moments, she clung to Harry, his hand a lifeline, his presence a comfort that wrapped around her like a shield. And with one last surge, a cry filled the room, and she knew it was all worth it.
“Oh.” She whimpered, her own cry emitting from her as her son was placed onto her bare chest for the first time. A nurse wiped him down as he wriggled against YN, Harry leaning down by her shoulder, staring in awe.
That was his boy, his son. A piece of him and the love of his life brought forth into the world. He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling he felt as he flickered his gaze between his wife’s and Atlas’s.
Sparse stands of brown locks sat atop his head, a color matching his fathers. He gently placed his hand atop it, his thumb rubbing against his forehead as the little boy continued to cry.
His eyes resembled his mothers, as did his nose. But everything else? That was all Harry. He cooed at him, whispering soft nothings to to his baby boy before the nurse approached him with medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord, dad?”
Dad.
Butterflies surged through his tummy.
He drew a deep breath, looking at YN for silent encouragement, to which she only smiled at him. Her husband, the father of her son.
He gently grabbed the scissors from the nurse, hesitantly approaching where he was told to cut. He looked at his Atlas who seemed to calm down a bit, slowly coming to terms with being brought out into the world. He steadied himself, and then with a delicate snip, he cut the cord.
As he handed them back to the nurse, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He looked down at the two he loved most in the world, lightly grasping onto his little feet and silently counting his tiny toes.
“Sit.” YN softly ordered, holding the boy against her chest with one hand and patting the small spot beside her with the other.
He nodded slowly, easing himself down into the spot after lowering the right side bar so he’d fit. He leaned against YN, his feet still upon the floor.
The baby was swaddled into a pale blue blanket before she handed him over to Harry, his heart melting instantly. He cradled him against his chest, tucking his head down to place delicate kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I love you so much.” He whispered, hesitantly ripping his gaze away from his son onto his wife.
His lip quivered as he placed a kiss against her sweaty hair, “Thank you so much.” His voice was delicate, a murmur. “I owe you everything.”
This was all he needed. His heart swelled with a love so profound, it felt almost overwhelming, as if the sheer depth of it might consume him. It was a love that stretched beyond anything he’d known, powerful enough to break him apart and put him back together all at once. But he embraced it, letting it fill every part of him, savoring each precious drop. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt exactly where he was meant to be.
This was home.
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alisonwritesimagines · 3 months ago
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Second Chance ~Logan Howlett Imagine~
Summary: Logan meets you. A variant of his dead wife.
Author’s Note: I won't lie, Hugh Jackman was hotter in the early 2000s.
Part Two
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE, mentions of character deaths, mentions of sexual innuendos
Do not repost this anywhere!
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A new start for Logan was just what he needed. And thanks to the TVA, Laura was able to join him in the universe Wade was originally from. So this was a new start for the two of them. And to celebrate their success in saving the universe, Wade decided to have a pizza dinner party with all his friends so Logan and Laura can get to know them.
"We are missing one more person," Wade noticed as he looked around.
"Y/n will be coming soon. She had to deal with something first," Yukio tells him.
"Thank you, Yukio," Wade smiled at her.
"Y/n?" Logan asked Wade.
"Oh you are going to love her. Everyone does," Wade tells him. "You too Mary Puppins."
Ten minutes later, you finally showed up.
"As an apology for coming late, I made my famous brownies!" You announced as you handed the plate with the chocolate goods to Negasonic Teenage Warhead.
Logan looked over to see that the stranger who walked in felt like a walking corpse to him. His smile drained from his face as he stared at you who was greeting the people you knew.
"Y/n! I want you to meet our new friends! Logan and Laura," Wade said. It felt like a cheesy rom com slow motion turn to Logan. But he was still enchanted by your beauty.
"It's nice to meet you both," you smiled at them.
"It's nice to meet you too," Laura said as she shook your hand.
"Please excuse me," Logan said as he walked out. Your smile fell a little as you watched the man walk out. You looked back at Wade who had a confused look as well.
"I will be right back. But here. Meet Mary Puppins," Wade said as he handed the dog over to you.
Wade rushed out of the apartment to find Logan outside.
"Hey! What was that? You just ran out on one of the best people I have ever met. She is tied with Peter and Yukio," Wade tells him.
"I didn't realize you had a version of her here," Logan tells him.
"What are you talking about?" Wade asked him.
"Y/n. She was my wife in my universe," Logan explains to him.
"No shit. You were married?" Wade asked him in shock.
"She was also killed because of me."
"This one is different."
"And how's that?" Logan asked him.
"She's a really big badass here," Wade tells him.
"She was in my universe too. But I still let her and everyone down."
"This one could be different."
"I don't know."
"Why don't you come back upstairs and have pizza and get to know her?" Wade offered.
"I think I'm gonna stay out here for a bit," Logan tells him.
"Alright."
Wade headed back upstairs, leaving Logan all alone. Not fifteen minutes later, you came outside with a plate of pizza and a brownie piece and a beer.
"You are missing the pizza and my brownies which Wade was mostly eating all of them," you tell Logan as you handed the food and drink to him.
"Thanks."
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You asked him.
"No. It's just... you look like someone and it's bringing back some memories for me," Logan tells you.
"Oh. Do you want to talk about it? If it makes you feel better, Wade has told me weirder things and more depressing things," you tell him. Logan let out a small chuckle.
"Maybe not now. I'm sorry for running out while you were introducing yourself."
"That's okay. Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you," you smiled at him.
"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Logan."
"Hi Logan. So, did you have to suffer with Wade alone for a couple of days too?" You asked him. Logan laughed a little.
"Yeah. I did."
"I can tell. You have a tired look on you," you laughed a little. Logan smiled softly, hearing your laugh. It was no different from his universe's you.
"You know, the party is upstairs and we are missing it," you tell him.
"That's true. Let's go," Logan said as he followed you back upstairs.
During the party, you sat next to Vanessa as you both were catching up. Logan kept looking at you whenever he could as he talked to Laura.
"You like her," Laura tells Logan loud enough for only him to hear.
"Come on kid," Logan groaned a little.
"She's pretty. And Wade talked to her about letting me stay with her and the other X-Men," Laura tells him.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Apparently she's a good teacher both education wise and powers wise," Laura tells him.
"She always was," Logan said, looking back at you. Your eyes met Logan's, making you smile at him.
"Oh he's cute. You should totally get with him when you can," Vanessa encouraged.
"You think I should?" You asked her.
"Yes! Plus he's handsome," Vanessa nudged.
"And his abs are amazing," Wade mentioned to you. You looked at Vanessa who also had the same look of interested with you.
At the end, you grabbed your bag and jacket before saying goodbye to Blind Al and Wade.
"You ready to check out the school?" You asked Laura.
"Yeah."
"Can I actually ask you something before you leave, Y/n?" Logan asked you.
"Sure. What's up?" You asked as you walked over to him.
"Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?" Logan asked you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled happily.
"Yeah. I'd like that. Here's my number," you tell him as you wrote it down really quickly for him.
"Call me."
"I will."
"Alright. I'll see you soon hopefully," you tell him.
"See you soon."
"Bye, Logan," Laura waved at him before following you out.
"So, are you two just going to adopt Laura and start a family?" Wade asked him.
"Leave it."
"Just letting you know, she likes it rough in bed."
"You and her had sex?"
"Nope. But I did overhear her and Vanessa talk about what they liked in the bed one time," Wade tells him. "And trust me. She may look sweet and innocent, but she is a bit of a masochist."
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schlock-luster-video · 20 days ago
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On October 26, 1951, Walk Softly, Stranger debuted in Australia.
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aemondsbabe · 9 months ago
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Give Me an O!
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summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want
pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo
word count: 5k
a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
gif creds to @unwanted-animal
🖤 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”
“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 
“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 
With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 
4:34pm.
A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 
Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 
You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 
Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 
Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.
Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 
Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 
“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.
“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.
“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 
“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 
He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 
“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 
With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 
“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 
You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 
Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 
“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 
Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”
“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 
“Does Amber know that?”
He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”
“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 
“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”
“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 
This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 
In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 
Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 
Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 
“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 
“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 
“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 
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The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 
You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 
“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.
“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 
“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 
“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 
“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 
“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 
“Will you?”
“Not for you!” 
The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 
“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 
With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.
“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 
“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.
“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”
His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”
“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.
Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”
“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 
“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 
“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 
“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”
You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”
“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.
Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.
“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 
“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 
“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 
He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 
“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 
“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 
“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.
“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”
“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 
The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 
With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 
“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 
Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 
Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.
“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”
“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  
Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 
You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 
“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 
Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 
“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 
“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.
“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”
You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 
“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”
“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”
“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 
Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 
With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.
“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 
The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 
Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 
“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 
Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 
“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 
Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 
You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 
“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 
After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.
Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 
After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 
“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 
“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.
“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”
“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 
“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 
“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”
“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 
“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”
“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”
“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.
“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.
“And come with me to the Halloween party?”
“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”
“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”
You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 
Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”
“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 
Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 
“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”
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incognit0slut · 9 months ago
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Tempting the Cowboy
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Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex
word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)
a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.
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Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.
The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.
Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.
A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"
The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.
"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."
With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.
As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.
Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.
It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.
As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."
A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.
"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.
"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."
He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."
"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."
Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."
You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."
"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."
You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.
But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"
"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."
The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"
He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"
"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."
The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.
There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.
As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.
But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.
"I remember a lot about you too."
You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"
He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."
You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.
Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.
You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"
His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."
You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"
"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."
"...how about bulls?"
Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.
You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."
He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.
"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.
You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."
Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.
"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."
"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.
"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."
"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.
"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.
Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.
"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."
You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."
His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.
"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."
"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."
"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.
"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."
He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.
"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."
He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"...you need me?"
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.
You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.
Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.
"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."
As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.
"And you missed me?"
You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.
"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.
"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."
Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.
"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"
You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."
A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.
"Tell me what you need me for then."
Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."
His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."
Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.
He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.
What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.
"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."
Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.
"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"
Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.
He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."
"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.
"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."
You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."
He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."
His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.
"I can persuade you in other ways."
Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.
There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.
His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.
"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.
You laughed amusedly. "You already are."
His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.
He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.
His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.
A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.
"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."
You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.
The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.
"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"
You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.
But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.
The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.
Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.
He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.
"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."
He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Not as much as you are."
You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.
You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.
The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.
"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.
You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.
"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"
You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.
A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.
But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.
"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.
"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."
"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."
He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.
"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."
He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."
His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."
A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."
"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.
He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.
"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.
"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.
"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.
"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."
He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.
"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.
"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."
"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."
He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.
Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.
Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.
He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.
He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.
But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.
"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"
You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."
You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.
You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.
His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.
He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.
Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.
His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.
As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.
You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.
"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."
Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"
"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."
You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."
"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."
You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.
Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.
"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."
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trumanbluee · 3 months ago
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you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson
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minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩
based on this request! <3
content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!
word count: 2.5k
warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.
a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!
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You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.
You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.
It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"
You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.
You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.
You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.
You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.
You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.
"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.
"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.
"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.
"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"
Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."
You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.
'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.
He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.
"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."
You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.
"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"
You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.
"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"
You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.
You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.
"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.
You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.
"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.
You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist. 
“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. 
You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss. 
Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him. 
“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.” 
He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes. 
He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips. 
“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.” 
You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.
 “I can wait, Princess.” 
You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?” 
You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit. 
You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.
“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.” 
Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin. 
He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?” 
Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders. 
“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention. 
His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now. 
Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves. 
“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it. 
Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders. 
You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”
He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick. 
“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air. 
You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear. 
Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily. 
You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick. 
His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length. 
“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls. 
Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. 
You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car. 
“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.
You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.
"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."
You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.
Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.
"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.
"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.
"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.
He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”
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©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!
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hello-eden · 3 months ago
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Unexpected Hope
Damian has been disoriented all week. When he was told that stopping the ritual would have repercussions, he did not expect this. He had been dealing with the memories on his own but unfortunately he could not postpone this gala. 
He had been stopping a ritual that would end up summoning the being he now knows as Undergrowth. Damien does not regret that choice especially now that he has the context. Unfortunately it brought back his memories of Phantom.
He didn't quite understand they were memories for quite a while honestly he was a little bit concerned he got possessed. Thankfully after some compartmentalizing and a little bit of isolation, he figured out what was wrong. It did not help the confusion that comes with being a Midwestern teen and an assassin child put into one body but he has gotten the hang of it. 
Unfortunately Damian did not get long before he was forced back into the presence of his family. he had put off many public family events in the last few months so he was not able to get out of this event. he probably could have faked being sick but he'd much prefer to be able to pass off any of his symptoms from the memories as uncomfortableness being around strangers then be alone with his family. 
He's honestly very happy with his choice after he sees her. He doesn't recognize her at first with the dark auburn braided hair and the dress being something other than black but something made him turn around when he heard her rant.
She was giving a humanitarian speech to one of the investors. At first he got closer just to hear about it. It's always funny to see the faces of the imbeciles when people don't bow to their wishes.
Damien thought he finally found someone who was not a gold digger or a social climber. What made him really stop in his tracks was her body language. It was like a neon flashing sign opened up and said ‘hey this is Sam Mason’. 
Damien walked over with hope in his chest that he was not alone. she eventually seemed to get tired of the man or maybe he was able to scramble an excuse and walk away. he couldn't quite hear but by the time he walked over there it was only her.
 “you seem to be quite passionate,” Damian says, trying to start a conversation and figuring out how to ask the hard question.
 What is he exactly supposed to say? ‘Hey, are you my best friend for my last life or hey do you remember being on my ghost hero vigilante team that ended up with all of us being Undead royalty.’
The girl looks him over, probably trying to figure out what he wants. 
“Are you here to argue?” She says angrily, obviously ready for another fight.
“Your speech reminds me of someone, have you ever heard of Samantha Mason” Damien says trying to be nonchalant.
Her eyes seem to widen and look him over again.
“Where'd you hear that name.” She ordered.
“I've heard enough of her rants to be able to pick it out from a crowd.”
 “Danny,”  She said softly her grabbing his hands and squeezing as she looked around to make sure no one saw. “what how I thought it was the only one” Hope seemed to be filling her eyes. 
“Hi Sam” Damien Whispers just as softly just as glad he is not alone. 
Without another word Sam drags them to the stairway rushing up to the floor upstairs and trying to find a room that isn't being used. She eventually finds one two floors above the room they were using for the gala and pushes him into what looks like a break room.
 “How the hell did you get your memories” Sam demands 
“Why are you yelling at me? You have your memories too obviously if you are recognizing your name” Damian says shouting back at her. 
Sam always has a way of catching him off guard. She was happy just a minute ago. 
“yeah well I did something stupid which means I know you did something stupid” Sam said pointing her finger at him.
“ Well I may have accidentally stumbled upon a ritual for summoning an ancient and when I stopped it the backlash gave me my memories back. ” Damien stumbled over their words trying to justify themselves. "What stupid thing did you do?”
“The girls in my stupid Prep School in my grade went through a very witchy phase. there was a slumber party and they were stupid enough to actually find real magic. I had a cut on my hand earlier in the day and try to freak them out by adding a little bit of my blood. apparently my protection spell is literally stuck into my soul, so things went down” Sam says just as hesitantly as Damien
 “you have zero leg to stand on okay fine we were both stupid” 
They both sat there in silence for a while, mostly just basking in each other's presents realizing they weren't alone anymore.
“it's good to have you back," Damian says, giving her a weak smile and running his hands through his hair.
He'd been trained out of all of his nervous ticks but it probably makes her more comfortable to see him just as nervous as she is.
“it's good to see you too da- do you have the same name?” both of them don't seem to realize at the same time that they didn't get each other's names. 
“Damien” he says as he pulls his hand out of his hair and puts his hand out for a handshake. 
“Sarah” she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.
the two of them shake their hand for a moment before they look at each other's eyes and burst out giggling. 
Damien's really glad he decided to not pretend to be sick.
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