#while having trouble breathing in my sleep

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

contents: fluff. established relationship. you always sleep better when you're with him. 600 wc.

It’s been long since darkness cloaked the firmament and Sylus is absorbed in the tranquil silence of his studies overlooking documents and official records. A common routine given his atypical profession in dealing with illegal weaponry and other business practices that caught his interest. His fingers idly tapping against the armrest come to a halt when faint footsteps reach his ears. The sound draws nearer and closer with each pace and the corner of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk while he waits in anticipation.

“Kitten, shouldn’t you be in bed where I had left you?” Sylus meets your heavy-lidded gaze and registers your appearance as a cashmere blanket wraps around your shoulders and your hair tousled from what seems to be troubled sleep. Despite his question, he beckons you with a gesture and you settle across his lap, your body turning in towards him to nuzzle your face into his neck with your arms coiling around him. He gently shifts your weight closer to him for a more secure hold and lays a sweet kiss on your head once your movement stills.

“You’re more comfy… way more comfy. I prefer this much more.” You hum and return his kiss by brushing your lips against his skin. He can feel you ease into him as he studies your adorable sleepy face and his heart swells with so much love and tenderness for you. He loves it when you seek him out even when you've spent the entire day together and still can't get enough of him.

“Is that so? I suppose I’m more comfortable than a bed, huh?” He strokes your hair, lulling you deeper into your drowsiness and you can only muster a noise of contentment. He wonders if he can emulate the same sense of comfort you provide him when he’s resting his head on your lap. The sweet and intimate sensation of your fingers caressing through his silver locks with the lingering scent of your perfume makes everything seem right in the world even if just brieftly. “You know I can’t work when you’re in my lap like this. I have too many distractions that way. You and the cute way you snore.”

You grunt softly. “I do not snore… do you really want me to leave?” You slowly unravel yourself from him with a small pout on your lower lip, and he softens with the realization that maybe he shouldn’t have teased you when you’re laced with sleep. You feel something warm against your forehead through your bleary eyes, and he can’t have his darling feeling unloved and unwanted by mistake and he intends to remedy that. His hand reaches up and moves your head back where it was moments ago and you are pliant under his touch.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. Stay here with me. I promise you won’t get in the way.” Sylus cooes you gently, his hand smooths along your back and he rests his cheek against your hair as he savors the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you, sweet kitten. Sleep now. I’ll hold you until you do.” You murmur you love him back and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence and the steady rhythm of your breathing as your consciousness begins to drift.

Sylus gazes down at you with a fond and affectionate expression, whispering quiet reassurances that he hopes will reach you in your dreams. He resumes skimming through the paperwork he was doing before, his actions slower and deliberate so as not to wake you. Although his focus has shifted, he enjoys having you here with him like this and he could certainly get used to it.

[vaporeon2010317]

(Tumblr was dumb and posted before I'm ready, unfinished.)

[TW : Abusive parental character is included in this fanfic.]

Vroom!

Chrysí, kept her head down as her mother drove through the countryside of Long Island, New York. As the wheels of the mini-van turned, all that the new teen thought of was how much of a failure she felt. The teachers, assistant principal, principal, and even her own mother believed that she harmed some kid. Everyone believed that stupid story. She wasn't even near the crafts supplies! How could Chrysí have stabbed some jerk with a pair of scissors?! The guy's arm just... started aging quickly... and going away...?

And yet, everyone believed that mouthy Bobofit boy... and now here she was, sitting in the back of a dusty old mini-van with her mom sighing as they went on the way to a camp for troubled kids.

Look, Chrysí Óra didn't want to be a weird kid.

But it turns out she was so much more than weird...

Her mother was cursing at the GPS for taking them to 'the middle of nowhere' despite the fact that--to Chrysí, at least--they were, in fact, somewhere. She could see rows of strawberry fields through the window and what looked like a large pine tree with a... yellow blanket on it? The 13-year-old couldn't tell.

"Hey, Mama..? Can I go to explore the--"

"Yeah, whatever, just get out of my sight. The director of something or other said something about a tree and hill. ...Then I can finally be free for the summer..."

Chyrsí paused. Her mom never said anything about her staying here all summer...

"What?! Didn't I just say to get lost?!"

Chyrsí knew that tone and nodded, grabbing her backpack and leaving the mini-van quickly. She didn't like it when her mom got mad like that.

She heard the dusty, white van speed off as she walked down the road to the hill and the tree on top of it. Guess she was on her own now.

The sun shined above as she stepped towards the large hill... woah... the blanket wasn't a blanket at all! It was more of a fleece, really. ...and it was a golden fleece that sparkled in the sunlight as it was drapped across the tall pine's branches... ...golden...

But it wasn't the sights that Chrysí found the most amazement in, but rather the sounds. ...Laughter. What seemed like the purest laughter in the world. It sounded like... siblings? Maybe friends? And a soft carving sound and... soft breathing, and the slight sketching on paper from pencil. And... is that a marble?

As the 13-year-old ran closer to the top of the hill, she finally saw the source : 6 teens, all doing different things, and yet, being so happy to do these different things together.

An older scene teen with a colorful outfit and (brown... no, blonde... bronze, that was it.) bronze-colored hair spun a laughing curly-haired girl who seemed to be beaming with sunshine through her equally as cheerful yellow and orange clothes. She couldn't be more than a year older than Chrysí. Leaning against the roots of the tree, there were two more people! Maybe around the same age as the scene guy? One was a girl with her hair dyed a mint green, her hand holding a mechanical pencil as she sketched flowers and trees in a book the color of the pine needles above her. The other was sleeping peacefully in the shade, the hood of their lavender jacket, and their crochet hat acting as a personal pillow for the blonde. There was a redhead with silver glasses and curious expression, making some kind of machine while a brunette talked about geckos and birds from a large book. They were all so happy here...

"Put me downnn!!"

The young girl protested through her giggles as the older boy spun her around.

"Not a chance!"

The green-hair gal sighed with a smile.

"Will you two knuckleheads knock it off? We've got to head back down soon if we want to be able to get the marshmallows at the bonfire before the Hermes kids."

"We've made it before in less time," the redheaded kid piped up as they put away their project.

The blonde yawned, seeming to have been awakened from their nap. "H-Huh...? Marshmallows...?"

The eldest girl closed her sketchbook, helping her friend up.

"Yes, Dev, Marshmallows. But we have to get there before the Hermes kids take em all."

"Uhm... who are the Hermes kids, and uh... where's the bonfire...?"

As Chrysí spoke up, the other teens looked to where she was with a sense of suprise. The scene boy carefully put the brown-curled girl down as the two walked to greet the 13-year-old.

"Well, if it isn't a new friend. Welcome to camp, kiddo."

Chrysí giggled as her hair got ruffled by the bronze teenager.

"Hi there! I'm Dawn, Dawn Tempo." The curly haired girl waved to her before talking again. "Oh! And this is Kiton," She mentions, pointing out the colorful teen.

"Sup!"

"Oh, and the sleepy bean in the lavender jacket is Devon, but they prefer their nickname, Dev."

Dev yawned and waved to her. Chrysí waved back while the redhead, brunette, and green haired walked over. So many cool people...

"Hollis here thought there might have been a new camper on their way." The green haired girl smiled as she looked from the brunette to Chrysí. "I'm Thyme, Hollis Temple aka H.T. is our expert on anything animal facts, and Nelio--"

"Have you ever wanted to make a Rube Goldberg machine?" The kid with the silver glasses interrupted with curiosity.

Thyme laughed as she playfully elbowed Nelio. "I was talking there!"

"I know, sorry, heh." The redheaded teen admitted sheepishly.

"I'm Chrysí! ...You guys all seem so cool..."

Dawn smiled as she quickly tapped Chrysí's shoulder.

"Come on, we're just silly peeps, just like you!"

Kiton had this mischievous smile on his face as they looked to his friends.

"Last one to the bottom of the hill..."

"Is a gooey marshmallow!"

Laughter ensued as a race to the campfire started, Chrysí laughing and running along.

* * *

"So... this is a place for the kids of the people who created everything?"

Dev nodded in agreement.

"Yeah... pretty much. Oh, by the way, did you see a strange symbol floating above your head on your way to the hill?"

Chrysí shook her head. "Nope. Is that bad?"

"Kinda. And also weird. Cause, remember that long story Dawn told you?" Nelio questioned as the new youngest member of the friend group nodded.

When you were brought to Camp Half-Blood, you were told that one of your parents is a Greek god or goddess. You were supposed to be claimed as soon as you got to Camp, but you weren’t. When you’re finally claimed at the bonfire, your godly parent is not what people expect.

[t1red-twilight]

you remembered?

summary: dean isn’t used to celebrating his birthday.

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, some angst, allusions to abuse/neglect, john winchester when i catch you john winchester

notes: happy birthday dean!

word count: 1.1k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

there were a few things that you knew about dean. one, he was a night owl. two, he preferred pancakes over waffles. and three, he was not used to his birthday being remembered, let alone celebrated.

in all the time that you had known him you weren’t even told when his birthday was, at least for a while. given the constant life or death circumstances, it hadn’t crossed your mind to ask when it was or why you didn’t celebrate it. about six months ago you and sam were alone, and you remembered to ask.

sam told you what the date of his birthday was (january twenty-fourth), and the next thing he said just about made your jaw go slack. “we never really celebrated it,” he stated.

���what do you mean, you never celebrated it?”

sam pondered for a moment. “well, our dad always said that we didn’t have time for birthdays or christmas. it just wasn’t something we ever did, i guess.” you swallowed the words you wished to say. lord knows that if you spoke what you were thinking, you might get in trouble.

but sam continued. “dean celebrated my birthday with me a couple times, but our dad didn’t…take that too well. i think after a while he just forgot our birthdays.” your heart sunk. everything you learned about that man made you lean towards violence just a little bit more.

so, you took everything sam had said and you stored it in your brain for later use. eventually, his birthday approached. you figured he wouldn’t be into something super loud and big, considering that he hadn’t had a birthday celebration in what seemed to be quite a while.

two weeks before his birthday, you sat down and planned what you were going to do. you wanted something small, but nonetheless something that at least would make him feel recognized.

-

when dean woke up, he noticed that you weren’t in the bed next to him. he sat up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and looked around the room. you were nowhere to be seen.

he did notice, however, that the door to your shared bedroom was slightly ajar. and faintly he could hear the noise of pots and pan gently clanking in the kitchen.

he meandered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. and there you stood, making breakfast. now you didn’t really have designated meal times; the two of you just ate whenever it seemed necessary. so the oddity of this current situation was not lost to him. “what are you doing?” he questioned.

turning, you saw him standing in the entrance in the kitchen. his shirt was ruffled and you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. smiling, you answered. “i’m making breakfast.” his eye eyebrows slightly raised, and it seemed as if he looked a little bit shocked.

“why, though?” he followed through with his questioning. “you know, we don’t usually do stuff like this.” nothing in his tone was accusatory. if anything, the volume of his voice lowered in an unusual manner.

you turned back around to face the bacon that you were currently frying. hopefully you weren’t overstepping. maybe he just didn’t like his birthday? perhaps you shouldn’t have done anything at all.

you heard soft footsteps approach you from behind. dean’s hands moved to rest up upon your hips. slowly, he turned you around to look at him. his eyes, they looked…glassy? your brow knit together and your hands went up to hold his cheeks. his bottom lip began to quiver almost imperceptibly.

a silence filled the room. you could only hear the soft splattering of the bacon from behind you, and maybe even the soft hums of his breath as he looked at you. when you spoke, you made sure that your voice was lowered. you didn’t know if sam was here, and it was likely that dean would not want sam to overhear what was going on. “well, it’s kind of an important day. it’s pretty special.“

at this, you saw him look away briefly and blink rapidly. was he trying not to cry? you used your hands and moved his face back to face yours. “are you okay?�� you asked. oh god, you overstepped. and now, he was upset.

surprisingly, he nodded. “yes. i’m great,” he replied. you didn’t push him any further than he wanted to go.

a small, singular tear escaped from the corner of his eye. your thumb rose off his cheek and swiped it away. dean lowered his head into the crook of your shoulder, and pulled you close to him. his hands were sprawled across your back and held you ever so tightly. it looked as though his shoulders were shaking slightly, he was crying. you didn’t say anything.

you mirrored his motions, and pulled him close to you as well. you scratched his back lightly, and ran one hand through his hair. you reached behind yourself and turned the stove off to avoid any accidents. the embrace might have lasted for a few minutes or even longer, but you didn’t really know or care.

then, he spoke. his voice, though muffled, still communicated what he wanted to say clearly. “thank you for remembering,” he said. the quiver in his voice was not lost to you. how could it be that some cheap, overcooked bacon was eliciting such a response?

you kissed the part of his head that was most accessible to you and whispered back to him. “of course. it’s a special day, and you’re special to me.” he pulled away and looked at you. dean’s cheeks were damp and his lips were swollen from crying.

“no one’s ever done something like this for me i-“ a sob wracked his body and cut him off. you pulled him down to kiss you.

you hadn’t known dean for that long, one and a half, maybe two years. but in that time you really gotten close. and while you never verbally defined anything you both knew where the two of you stood.

dean kissed you back instantaneously and with such a fervor that sent a chill up your spine. you could feel the tears that slipped down his face, but didn’t mind in the slightest.

you pulled away and he kissed you once more in a pecking motion. your thumbs wiped away the tears that remained. “and i was thinking,” you started, “that we could go to the diner in town later. get some dinner and pie?”

“just you and me?” he asked, his face lighting up gently.

“yeah. just you and me.”

[pearbearr]

let me help you

my first fan fic, so sorry if this is rough lol

you are a cleric for sleep who gets a visitor every night. he watches you play piano for him, but you grow frustrated this time.

gn reader x vessel

I knew it was late, but I had no one awaiting my arrival at home so I continued my decipher. I had been pulled away from my studies as I heard shuffling in the distance. I looked at the clock and it read exactly 3:00 am. The sound was nothing new for me to hear at this hour. As much as I had always felt alone, I knew I wasn’t.

A pair of eyes watch me from the dark hallway as I call out for them. It was no use, I never got a response. I set the book down and walked towards the piano at the back of the church. I played a few notes while I heard familiar shuffling behind me. He was always nearby, but he chose to only make himself known when the clock struck three. He knew that it would only be us in the small church at this hour.

I wasn’t sure what to do at first, but I realized he liked it when I played piano for him. It had grown to become a part of my routine when I stayed at the church late. The only issue being that I was new to playing the piano. I brought out old sheet music and tried, but I never did the piece its proper justice. This night in particular I was having trouble playing the piece all together. I felt embarrassed as I knew I had an audience. My frustration was growing and I couldn’t hide it anymore. 

“I’m sorry. I know you come to listen to me play, but I can’t learn with you around…” I felt like a fool waiting for a response; I was simply speaking to the cold air around me. “You make it hard for me to learn, you know. I grow nervous when you are around.” 

I played a few notes from a song I had grown slightly familiar with. drag me under. It was one of my favorites to play because it was slightly easier to learn than the rest that stayed on the shelf, untouched. 

I heard him move closer behind me, this was something he had never done before. 

“What are you doing?” I turned to look around, but before I could someone gripped my chin and kept me from looking back at him. 

“I… who are you?” I felt his body being pressed against my back now. His figure was large.

For the first time he spoke, his voice was low. “Don’t worry about who or what I am, just let me help you.”

A shiver went down my spine as his cold hands wrapped around mine. I looked at his hands, they were painted black and he wore several rings. One in particular caught my eye as it had the church’s symbol on it.

“What song do you want to play, my love? Show me the piece and I’ll show you how to play it.” While he spoke I felt his breath against my ear. 

“I want to learn BloodSport. I can’t seem to grasp the piece all together.” 

I go to reach for the sheet music, but he keeps my hand in place and uses his other hand to reach for it. 

“Let’s take a look at it” He goes silent for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. “I remember writing this one… not one of my happiest times as you could probably tell, huh?” 

“You wrote it? Wait, did you write all of these pieces?” 

“Most of them. Very few pieces were written by other vessel’s, but I am the author and songwriter of most of the writing and songs you study.” 

“Other vessels? So you are a vessel then?” 

“Yes my love, but enough of that. That's not important right now, let me teach you.” 

“My love”  his words echoed in my mind. I had no idea who he was beside the being that came to me each night, but now I felt so drawn to him. I have always known him through his music. Everything about him seemed to allure me. I hadn’t felt a crave like this before. 

I had been so caught in thought that I hadn’t noticed he sat closely to me now. We shared what felt like the now small bench. I turned to look at him and he was beautiful. His white and red mask stood out against the black paint that laid on his body.

“Am I too much of a distraction for you now?” 

I snapped back to reality and realized I was staring. I felt myself glow pink in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, your just a sight to be seen” 

He smiled and chuckled at my reddened face. “I could say the same about you, my love.”

I stayed quiet, I felt myself wanting to know him, to study him. He has altered my brain.

He played a few notes, it had been the intro to bloodsport. My eyes followed his every move, I was starting to understand his movements as he explained each time he changed chords. Then came his singing. His voice was unreal. I felt like I was following a siren into the ocean, each lyric pulling me into his tides. I couldn’t focus on his movements for any longer, I stared at him in awe. He sang his lyrics raw and vulnerable. I heard his soft cries while he sang. I reached out to hold his arm, letting him know that I was still here, listening to him. The last note rang out when he shifted himself to look at me.

“You.. you were amazing.” I cup his face and wipe away his tears. Black paint smeared across my skin, but I didn’t care. I would continue to wipe away his tears if it meant I would get stained in the progress. 

He reached for my hand and intertwined it with his own. “Thank you” he said in a soft whisper. He regained his composure before I could say more. “You entertain me, it was the least I could do in return for the countless sleepless nights we have shared.” 

I gave him a soft smile. “I wouldn’t mind sharing sleepless nights if they're with you.” 

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

My sad sigh echoed through the room as I turned over in bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. I snuggled closer into the mattress hoping it would bring me the warmth that I had seaking, the last few days being the reason why. Ever since the night at the club a few days ago, Bucky had been distant with me. He decided on working from home, having all of his meetings in his office here. When that would happen, he would make sure that I would be locked safely in my room with Steve on the other side of the door. Neither of them were going to let anything happen to me. 

I tried to talk with Bucky but he had been very short every time and did his best to lock himself either in his room or office. At first, I couldn’t help but wonder if I did something to upset him but with his reassuring words from this morning, I knew that I was overthinking things. 

“I promise it’s not you, doll. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.” 

It also had been a few days since our meeting with Zemo and yet, no word on when Clint and Natasha were returning to the states. Sam reassured me that it would take some time but they had to come back eventually. 

I groaned while smacking the mattress beneath me, sleep being too far to grasp, so I checked my phone to see that it wasn’t even midnight, meaning I had a long night ahead of me with no sleep. My fingers then worked out a quick message to Bucky. 

Hey, are you awake? I’m having trouble sleeping and thought maybe we could hang out and talk?

When a few minutes passed with no response, I decided on going to his room to see if he was alright. My feet dragged along that carpeted hallway as I closed the distance to Bucky’s room and noticed that his door was already opened. 

“Bucky?” I called out while knocking on the door. 

His room was empty, untouched as if he hadn’t stepped foot inside of it in weeks. There was only one other room that he could have been in. 

I quickly descended down the stairs and took the first left turn and walked down the long hallway towards his office. Even with the door closed, I could hear the muffled sounds of the television and see the blue light from it spilling into the hallway from underneath the door. 

My knuckles smacked against the wood of the door as I opened it, his name falling from my lips yet again. 

He raised from the floor with a start, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took as the sweat glistened across his forehead. The blanket was draped across his lap, the bareness of his top half catching my eye right away. But my eyes only drank in his skin for a moment when I realized where he was laying. 

On the hard ground, the only sort of comfort was another thin blanket. 

“I’m so sorry if I scared you,” I apologized while biting my bottom lip, guilt filling me. 

Bucky let out a deep breath. “Are you alright?” 

I nodded. “Yeah, I was wondering where you were since you weren’t in your room.” 

“Oh, yeah.” He yawned while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I haven’t slept in there for awhile.” 

“So you decide to sleep on the floor of your office?” I raised a brow. 

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “It was only for tonight, I fell asleep watching T.V.” 

I nodded while humming and closed the distance between us, him still opting to sit on the floor. The blue glow of the television casted over him, enhancing the way his vibranium arm looked. 

“Do you want to tell me the real reason why you’re not sleeping in your bed?” I asked while looking down at him. 

“Ever since I found out about Natasha lying about the pregnancy, I haven't been able to sleep in my bed,” Bucky said with a sad sigh. “Before you started staying here, I was sleeping in the room you’re in now.” 

My heart stung with guilt, hearing that me being here caused him to kick him out of his bed. 

“I can go stay at a hotel or with Steve.” 

“No,” Bucky quickly said, fingers tracing softly against the skin of my calf. “I want you to stay here, okay?” 

All I did was nod, the guilt still heavy on my heart when I noticed how tired he looked under the glow of the television. The bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, an indication that he had trouble sleeping for a while. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” 

Bucky’s shoulders dropped while his hands slid up my legs to wrap around my back, pulling me closer to him. He rested his cheek against my stomach while I began to run my fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t mean too, doll. I’ve been dealing with finding out that Natasha was seeing Clint on the side,” Bucky admitted. “It made the guilt I felt about everything even heavier than it already was.” 

“Do you want some more space?” I asked, ready to walk away. 

But that only made him tighten his grip on me. 

“No, please stay.” 

I nodded, fingers still working through his hair. “You have every right to feel hurt but you also can't forget that she did the same thing. I think in the end, the marriage was doomed regardless." 

Bucky left a soft kiss on my stomach which caused the butterflies to flutter, the folds between my legs that were inches from his face burning with desire. 

“If this was how she felt when she found out about us, I’m even more of a jackass,” Bucky let out a shaky breath. 

“Oh, Bucky,” I sighed. 

He looked up at me with tired eyes and I could feel myself crumbling in his grasp. I couldn’t be mad at the fact that he was hurting with finding out about Clint and Natasha, it was something he needed to deal with. However, going through it alone was making it harder for him. 

“Come on,” I unwrapped his arms from me but laced our fingers together. 

“Where?” Bucky questioned while raising to his feet. 

“You’re exhausted. You need to sleep on an actual bed.” I cupped his cheek. 

He left a soft kiss on my palm. “I don’t want to kick you out, doll.” 

“You’re not,” I shook my head. “We're both going to sleep in the bed together. It’s big enough.” 

The smile that slowly appeared on his lips warmed my heart. 

“Just to sleep, okay?”

I warned while pointing a finger and Bucky made a show of making a cross over his heart, a silent way to say he would only sleep. 

The smile on his lips pulled high at the corners causing his eyes to crinkle. “I don’t think you realize how much I need this.” 

My smile matched his and began to pull him along, back to bed but he halted almost right away.

“Do you want me to change?” 

It was then that I noticed he was only wearing very tight black briefs, the fabric hugging his cock just right. I wet my lips at the sight, memories of us linking together in the sheets being brought back.

“Doll?” 

Bucky’s voice made me tear my eyes away from his lower half and my cheeks reddened but still answered him. 

“No, you’re fine. As long as you don’t mind me wearing an old, raggedy, boy band shirt?” I pulled at the bottom of the shirt that stopped above my knees. 

He gave me a warm smile. “Not at all, Y/N.” 

Our bodies were back to back, both of us laying this way for the last couple hours. Sleep had become foreign but neither of us dared to say a word, in case the other was asleep. Until, I felt the bed shift behind me and warm breath across the back of my neck. 

“Doll, are you awake?” 

I hummed in response, eyelids shut yet wide awake. 

Bucky’s voice was gentle in the large space of  the room as he spoke. “You can say no but would it be alright if we held each other? I need some sense of security." 

The vulnerability that coated his voice broke my heart so I turned over to face him, however sucked in a breath when I realized how close we were. His lips were so close to mine and I knew that if I titled mine up at the right angle, I could feel his once again. 

I didn’t. 

With no words said, I wrapped my arms around him and brought his head down to my chest, his vibranium arm immediately grasping my hip. His face buried deep into the crook of my neck and I felt every inch of me ignite under his touch. With my fingers scratching his scalp and my leg over his own hip, Bucky’s soft snores filled the room and I felt his body relaxing into me. 

I placed a kiss on top of his head. “Good night, Bucky.” 

[hubmuses]

.

[whimsyprinx]

plagued by the fact that I naturally sigh quite often and very dramatically

[jackass-jones]

Ooooooghhhhhhhhh stressed 🥺

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓤𝓖𝓐𝓡.       eren yeager.

‎𐦍 ₊˚♱ ෆ . . . 5.1k. fem!reader, country!eren + bluecollar!, housewife!reader, established relationship, domesticity, ovulation, oral ꒰ f + m. ꒱, kreaming + squirting, rough sex, nasty talk ofc, unprotected, daddy kink, spanking, pet names ꒰ sweetie, baby, mama ꒱, praise, hair pulling, check ins + aftercare, choking, breath + sensitivity + salvia play, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . a lil sum i thought of randomly. this is related to the dangerously in love couple. <3 visual. visual. visual. wish i had a link for the exact position i have in my head, so here’s a small example. hopefully i explained them well. :<

ivory sunflowers are imprinted along the frilly apron that hugs your body cutely, the coquette lace floral dress with a baby pink ribbon to create a corset style underneath. the warm scent of strawberry pie baking in the matcha green vintage oven blooms your heart. dusting flour over the counter to roll and mush at the dough you’ve created for the chicken pot pies, one of eren’s favorite meals. the sun was fairly hot today, your eyes fixating on the two beautiful tawny cows roaming your farm, their mouths chewing at grass as the wind blows serenely.

you told eren to keep a close eye on them while he was outside, watching your husband stand halfway down the driveway with sweat dripping from his brow as he tinkers with the engine of his polished black 1968 ford f100. he’s been having troubles with it this past week, and constantly handling it became tedious. he expressed his anger a few times now, this truck being his first big purchase for himself and he was having issues only a year later.

his light blue levi jeans and classic wife-beater was streaked with grease, clinging to his muscular thighs as he crouches low, peering intently at the mechanical innards. every so often, he wipes his hands on a rag before reaching for another tool, his calloused fingers moving with practiced ease. the sun casts a glow on the definition of his biceps as he lifts and maneuvers heavy parts. angelic brown strands held back by a black cap turned backwards.

you’ve been subconsciously humming along to the 70s and 80s rock tunes he has stationed on the radio. don’t dream it’s over currently on play. meanwhile, inside the cozy farmhouse kitchen, with the tantalizing aroma of food and your chocolate brown maltipoo who eren named honeybelle sleeps on her bed by the window — although this moment was romantic and peaceful to view, you weren’t too happy of a woman.

this was one of the few days he was off from work, and he’s been outside fixing his car since your eyes opened to an empty bedside. it’s nearing nighttime, and you’d spent half your day to your lonesome. shaving your body, doing your skincare routine and deep conditioning your handful of a curly head that’s currently pinned up away from your soft features. it’s felt like such a long time since the two of you enjoyed a full day together, let alone make love. your ovulation period not making this any easier on you, feeling like a wild animal in desperate heat. the only time you really interacted today was when you brought out a fat honey-turkey club sandwich, knowing he tends to forget to eat sometimes.

brushing the crust you created for the pot pie after layering them in crisscross patterns with butter, your mind wanders off, daydreaming as the sun begins to set and the sky blooms into color palettes of saffron and coral. the air outside turns warmer, and you study your husband once more, watching the ball in his throat shift as he chugs on a pitcher of water, droplets hitting his chest. his briefs are peaking out from his jeans, feet in his black timberlands per usual. his arms have veins streaming from the middle of his forearm to his big, dirty hands. silver wedding band on his right.

those slanted viridescent eyes of his catch your stare as he glares at you over the pitcher, swallowing and giving you a movie star smile with pearly whites. you smile faintly, returning the gesture. your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, shifting in your spot as you realize you’re biting your lips and almost riding the air. your blood is thrumming throughout your body, needing him to come inside right now.

the chicken pot pies are done in thirty minutes, each crust perfectly golden brown. and within that time, he’s still outside messing with his truck. you wanted to be understanding that he needed his truck in order to head to work tomorrow to further provide for you and the home as he does, but you can’t help that feeling of abandonment in your chest. you really didn’t want to cause an argument, but this was becoming irritating.

removing your apron, you slip on your outside shoes to head towards the garage where he resides, being faced with his broad back and gruff noises of agitation.

“baby.”

“yes, sweetie,” he replies quickly, groaning as he twists the wrench.

“dinner’s done. you’ve been out here all day. please come inside,” you pout, going to wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek on the column of his back.

eren removes his cap, scratching at his head before smoothing his hair back and placing it on again. “mhm, baby, i know. gimme like ‘nother hour, i just gotta connect the fuckin’ valve springs to the camshaft.“

“i thought it was just overheated?”

“yeah it was, the water pump wasn’t sending coolant through. the crankshaft wasn’t movin’, ‘n the radiator cap had too much pressure so the spring in the cap compressed ‘n flew over in the coolant reservoir. glad i ran to the auto shop beforehand.”

he’s saying a lot of shit you don’t understand if being frank. sighing, you let go of him, knowing he was real intricate with his truck so he definitely wasn’t going to be done in an hour. he stops what he’s doing to turn and face you, observing your expression.

“what i say about that, mama. huh?” eren sighs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “don’t be givin’ me that face. i’m tryin’ my best right now. swear ima be in, i’ll make it forty-five instead.”

“that’s not the point,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “fuck the dinner, i want you to be with me. you’ve been out here since eleven in the morning. not once have you come inside the house ‘n checked on me.”

his jaw clenches, your tone expected but not what he wanted to hear right now. “i ain’t tryna argue with you.”

“then don’t, help yourself to dinner.”

“꒰♡꒱.”

turning with clear attitude, you stroll back into the house, honeybelle barking softly as she follows you around. you feed someone in the house, pouring kibble into her beige bowl before patting her head and watching her scruff down the food. by this point you’d lost your appetite, huffing and puffing in your kitchen as you set the food back into the oven and made your way up the staircase.

to cool yourself down, you decide to run yourself a bath. twisting the gold faucet to fill the clawfoot tub with hot water, crouching on your knees to swish the water around to help form the bubbles. it was fully dark outside now, lighting aromatherapy candles and opening the double vintage windows that overlooked the farm you and eren spent years creating. stars in the sky and clouds camouflaging. undressing yourself, you grab a novel off of the shelf and submerge yourself into the tub, closing your eyes in bliss and leaning your head back against the spa pillow that elevates your neck.

eren manages to take approximately thirty minutes to finish up his project, starting up the truck and test driving it before he sighs in relief to see she’s back in shape. after parking it back into the garage, whistling at the cows to get them to follow him back into the barn after much needed playtime, he’s finally stepping into the house. honeybelle skips towards eren, sniffing at his ankle and wagging her tail. eren smiles, patting the top of her head.

“where’s your mommy, girl. huh?” he coed, scratching under her chin.

his eyes scope the dining area, finding the table set up just for the two with candles that were half burnt, blown out. the homemade sweet tea in a pitcher leaking with condensation, ice cubes melted. the pie you baked was set into a glass cake stand, and the pot pies are settled into the oven under the light. it was definitely clear you were upset with him, groaning and putting a hand on his head. he truly didn’t mean to take away this day from you, aware of how much you’ve missed him. hours at work are longer since the power plants needed more tending to from low employment.

just last week he had to go out of town and leave you for an entire three days to travel to another refinery. in that time you’d tend to your farm while also helping eren’s father with his. you knew what this lifestyle would mean for your relationship. things around the house including you will be secure, but having him come home exhausted to the point where you rarely spend as much time as you’d like with him was difficult. at most he had two days off a week, but a lot of times they’d call him in because someone else didn’t show up.

you’ve suggested countless of times that he should switch locations, but this one provided better benefits and he was close to a promotion that would also guarantee him extra off time. ‘it just takes time, baby.’ he’d constantly tell you. and you’re not one of those wives that complain about every single thing to make her husbands life harder, the two of you rarely even argue, but you do have your moments where you’re too stubborn.

the heavy thud of his boots sounds in the home as he heads up the stairs, softly calling your name to see where you reside. with his hand on his toned stomach under his shirt, he finds you rested in the tub, head turned away as you sleep comfortably. his tall frame leans against the doorframe, watching you with a pout on his face. you look angelic, cloud white bubbles flowing around your body, the jets in the tub keeping them in tact, slowly dissolving. the tankless water heater he installed a while back kept the water warm, making you comfortable enough to drift off to light slumber.

he makes his way closer to you, crouching before you to brush the tendrils of curls dangling in your face. your breath is light, lashes feathering against your cheekbones as he caresses your jaw with his thumb. he bends to pull the plug and drain the tub, not fond of you sleeping in water. you didn’t have it too high up, but people drown in tubs a lot more than you think.

you hum gently, eyes opening to see him looming over you, studying him in silence. sitting on his behind, he grabs a pedicure knife to clean under his nails, tattooed arm dangling into the tub and under the running faucet to remove the impurities.

“don’t like you fallin’ asleep in the tub, sweetie. you could drown. this isn’t your first time doin’ that,” his brows deepen, grabbing a nail brush and applying some of your cashmere and goat milk soap you currently smelt of with to scrub at his manicured fingernails.

you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms over your knees. “sorry.”

eren scans your face, eyeing the beauty of your entirety. perfectly white painted toes and matching nails, dark, big curls framing your face, slowly falling from the claw clip on the back of your head. the fullness of your lips with the cupids bow curve of them. soft skin, pretty eyes . . you were all his. such a beautiful wife. so when you’re mad at him, it makes him feel like shit. the way you look at him is different as well. your eyes are dead almost, a scolding glare in them.

“this day was supposed to be for us, i know,” he breaks the silence. “old shit was being difficult, ‘n you know i gotta drive far, sweetie. gettin’ ‘n a crash isn’t somethin’ you’d want happenin’ to me, right baby?”

the frown on your face serves how you feel about that. “i’d lose my mind if something bad happened to you.”

“ ‘n i’m not tryna guilt trip you or anything like that. i understand how you feel. i miss you just as much. i think about you all fuckin’ day at work. but, as time passes, eventually i’ll be in a better position ‘n you can have me with you whenever you want. jus’ lemme handle shit, okay?”

his strong hands go to caress your ankle, the silver jewelry shining there, lifting your foot to kiss at the shape of it, eyes low and focusing on you, unable to help the heat that swims within your hips and core.

“i really just needed you so bad today,” the sound of your throat clamping up causes him to go alert. you bow your head, wanting to hide your face as the tears threaten to spill. “it’s so stupid. i spent all that time pampering myself and cooking for us — i just hated being alone, even if you were still here.”

“c’mon, baby. why you cryin’ ? none of that. i’m sorry, truly,” he’s rising up on his knees, kissing at yours.

“missed you touching me,” you whimper, sniffling and pouting. “missed your kisses. i miss you.”

ah, so that’s what it is. he doesn’t make any effort to hide the smirk on his face, scoffing lowly while dropping his head. you can be such a brat when you’re horny, and given it’s been about two weeks since he’s last fucked you, he now gets why you begged for him to be with you today. quality time was still needed, but he can tell by the way your body tenses and your lips part to release tiny gasps while he strokes the pads of his fingers across your hips . . that you’re ovulating.

“that’s all you needin’, mama? some touches?”

salvia trails down your throat as you swallow, thighs squeezing together out of reflex, throbbing from those damned eyes of his, nodding with hooded lids. “mm hmm. so bad.”

“mm, yeah?”

the butterflies in your stomach swarm as he brings his face closer to yours, his touches on your skin causes you to grind when his mouth suddenly connected with your throat, your jaw widening as you gasp and toss your head back, his mouth sloppily kissing at the right side of your body. lips moving from your collarbone, each sound coming from him emphasized as he sucks at your chest, pulling your areola into his mouth and trailing his tongue down the side of your stomach, down to your hip and the crease between your thigh and waist. every kiss and lick is rough, his groans exaggerated as you moan from every touch.

“ooo, fuck. oh my god,” your hips can’t stop moving, his tongue gliding back up before his fingers indent into your cheeks, turning your face to his so he could kiss you roughly, sliding his tongue on yours.

eren doesn’t kiss you for long, detaching your lips with a lewd slick, both of your lips pouty before he’s arching over the tub and guiding his mouth along the left side of your body, repeating his motion of sucking and licking you. your eyes gloss back, spreading your thighs further apart when he gets closer to your pussy, swallowing your bottom lip inward.

he cocks his head back to lewdly spit over your clit, the string of saliva and the vein on the side of his thick neck making your face heat up. your mouth hangs open as he takes his fingers and slowly spreads it over, grumbling, "want me all over you," before rubbing your clit in smooth circles, groaning at the weak noises you made.

you were so needy, every touch he gives you consuming, a lust and desire looming over you that only he could give you. your hips twitch and hike midair, and your positive you've made your lip bleed by how hard you bit into it, doe eyes hazily watching his face. brows furrowed as he tentatively paced his fingers, repositioning himself so he could tug you down flat in the tub, your knees pressed to your chest as he clutches onto the sides of the tub.

“hold ‘em there, be good.”

a squeal envelops eren’s ears once he cranes his neck and drops his mouth over the puffy nub, enclosing his lips to kiss at your folds. your pussy is soaked, dripping between your ass cheeks, inner thighs twitching while he licks you up. the cap on his head continues to hold his hair back, his biceps flexing from every noise you make, trying to keep his composure. he wanted to make you feel real good, you deserve it, and he’s missed you.

“b—babyyy,” a mix between a groan and a whimper flows from you, keeping your legs open and squeezing at your chest hard, slowly rocking your pussy on his face, voice shuddering from the feel of his light stubble on your soft skin.

eren spanks the back of your thigh, dragging his mouth to soothe the feel after with an open mouth followed with more of his tongue. he loved tasting you, clearly. melting on the velvet of his tongue like sugar. his chin is doused by your slickness as he buried his face deep, circling your clit in languid strokes, lower lip dropping to bring it back into his mouth. you’re never embarrassed by how loud you get, knowing you’ll be reprimanded if you do keep silent. so a pathetic, drawn out whine fills the space when he removes his mouth.

“feed it to me,” eren hisses, spanking the back of your thigh again, french kissing either side of your ass. the hungry aggression through his eyes tell you to listen, his body almost entirely inside of the tub to make sure he’s giving you what you need the right way. “c’mon, girl.”

the gruffness in his tone makes you squirm, like he’s just as pent up as you. easing your hips up, you hold your legs fully up so they’re past your ears, gripping on his arm for balance as you dip your hips so your pussy connects with his face, your face curling up as he spits and slurps, your body trembling.

“mmmahh,” you weakly moan, chest heaving and breath stuttering, his tongue occasionally dipping into your hole to taste that sweeter place, eren grunting and bouncing his head along with your movements, teeth every now and then biting at your inner thighs. “g-g’na—squirt, f-fuck, nnnngh.”

eren acts on instinct, reaching to grab the back of your neck as your body arches forward to hold you so you won’t hurt yourself, swallowing at your achy bud as you coat his throat in your juices, humming and savoring every ounce. the static of your legs as you sing out your moans makes his dick harder, straining in the confinements of his jeans.

he pulls away, your body flat within the tub as he stands and undoes the leather belt on his waist, ears perking up from the sound of his zipper and then awaits the weighty girth of his dick. blush pink tip and tan with a protruding vein trailing up the underside. you find energy to lift yourself up, clinging to the side of the tub like a mermaid on rocks. reaching for the back of his leg to pull him closer, eren’s brows lowered at the sight of your eyes setting into seductiveness.

your mouth opens instinctively, giving him those big brown irises that has his dick jump in your face. eren’s waist spasm backwards, fingers grasping the coils of your hair to stop you. “no, no. not now. y’know you’ll make me cum too quick.”

“y’know you can’t fuck me till i taste it,” you pout, evidently upset, keeping your lips parted as a need to have it. “just a taste, daddy. i want it.”

“fuckin’ hell,” eren clenches his jaw, pupils dilating, lowering his jeans and boxers to his thighs to inch his dick to your lips. “yeah, jus’ a lil taste, baby. gimme those pretty lips.”

eren moans when you waste no time intaking half of his dick, tongue licking at the underside and slurping him up, bobbing your head and letting him hit the back of your throat in nasty squelches. his head falls back then to the side as he squeezes his eyes shut, attractive neck showcasing, grunting and slowly thrusting into your throat.

“f-fuck, ꒰♡꒱. love this sweet fuckin’ mouth of yours. show me that throat, baby,” two hands go to clutch your neck, eren pulling his dick out, salvia dribbling down your bottom lip. you widen your mouth, angling your face up so he can see your tongue in it’s entirety, the tight ring in the hollow of your esophagus calling him.

“good girl, take this shit deep,” he whispers painfully, teeth clamped together in a hiss as he lays the heaviness of his dick on your flat tongue, pushing in till his pretty, leaky tip connects with the back of your throat, constricting around him. “a-ahh, yeahh.”

you let him use you as long as he anticipates, eyes drooping low, trying to focus on eye contact with your nose mushed to his happy trail, the scent of the day and his cologne seeped into his skin. you heave when he pulls back entirely, whining and riding the air. he’s so damn masculine it makes you so feminine and submissive.

“one more time, hold it,” bending his back slightly, he slides back into your mouth, gently holding your neck in place to thrust a few times more, deep melodies of grunts and hisses pouring as he furrows his brows and studies how you made his dick wet and shiny, balls slapping against your chin.

with your mouth stretched open, you take him in as deep as he likes, closing your eyes to shut off your brain so you don’t choke. eren holds you there, huffing out ‘ooh fuckin’ god, baby.’ before smoothing his hand on the side of your face after he withdraws his hips to let you breathe, his own chest knocking from holding his breath.

“love you,” eren reminds you as he peppers kisses all over your face and you smile, a continuous gesture he’d do every time to make you aware, especially when he’s too rough.

the trance you have on his dick is sickening, following it as he maneuvered around the bathroom, retrieving a towel he spread on the lower part of the tub before entering, not bothering to take off his boots. you giggle as he hovers above you, biting at your nail and shifting your body beneath him so he could slot in. the weight of his cock lays on your stomach, eren grinding to rub along your folds, coaxing your hidden clit to show. eren steadies his figure, knuckles turning white from him grasping either side of the tub and holding himself up by indenting his feet into the towel.

“i fuckin’ need you,” eren growls, biting at your neck before licking and shifting his hips to nudge the tip against your opening, easily sliding in slow.

the warmth fills your face again, abdomen pinching from pain and pleasure, pawing at his slightly dirty wifebeater and hiking it further up his chest you were desperate to touch. the silver chain around his neck sways in your face, squinting your eyes and dropping your jaw when he begins pounding into you with the need he expressed. the sluice of your pussy is loud, his balls slapping against the rounds of your ass while your thighs hit his pelvis.

“this what you needed, right? what you been whinin’ for?” eren grunts in your face, taking your lips in his for passionate kiss, moaning together.

“y-yesss, mmmph,” the pleasure swarming in your stomach feels foreign, whimpering from every stroke he gives you, clawing at his sides. it felt so fucking good, your eyes scrolling and your breath inordinate along with his. “dick feel so good, ‘ren.”

“mhm hmm,” his face curls up, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your cheek and behind your ear, his touches making your body burn. “i hear it, she’s creamy as fuck.”

and it was, peering down between where you two connect to see him covered in you, the sticky slaps making his eyes lose focus, rutting into you harder. so hard it makes you scream, that sweet spot being pressured and your tummy flutters.

“e—ren,” you can barely see him, whines and whimpers being your only way of communication. spreading yourself wider by holding yourself open with both hands, arching your chest into his face where he sloppily eats at your brown skin again.

“talk.”

“annngh,” your lips turn into a pout, face completely gone. every word and sound coming out brokenly. “f-feelin’ something. s’so fuckin’ deep in me. you fuck me so good. w’na cum on it.”

“mhm, cum on it. cum on your dick baby, make it creamier.”

it’s quiet at first when you cum, legs shaking almost violently as eren lets go of the tub and lays his entire weight onto you, tucking you fully underneath to angle his hips and dig his dick in deeper, rough and steady pivots making you reach for his hair to tug, knocking off his hat. his fingers grip your cheeks, big hand almost covering your whole face as he brings his forehead to yours, growling rough.

“yess. give. it. to. me. lemme hear it.”

“g-god, y-yessss, fuck. right there, right there. please don’t fuckin’ stop . . oh my god.”

a long, exasperated groan disperses, vibrating in your chest and in his ears, hiccups and gasps following as you clench and suck him tighter. he feels the throb from your orgasm, dick twitching inside of you, rolling his waist and keeping you close to let you ride it out and feel it longer.

“take your time, there we go. feel it all.”

it pulsates harder from hearing him, grasping his wrist and releasing what’s been caged within you; a cry. “oh . . my . . g-god. eren!”

it’s not that you’re hurt, it’s that you’re experiencing too much at once. overwhelming pleasure, your husband’s embrace, the way he speaks to you, fucks you, the love you have for him, how he loves you, and even the annoying rise of hormones from your ovulation. a cry bolts from you, body convulsing and your voice dying out, grinding mindlessly on his dick and kissing his lush lips.

“that’s it, it’s okay.”

eren’s kissing all over your face, soothing you and giving you time before he holds you close to his chest and turns himself around so he’s leaning up, resting his head back on the spa pillow and twisting you so your back is to his chest. he balances your weight, taking the initiative to sling your right arm over his shoulder, eren smoothing his palms up the back of your thighs before locking your knees to your chest with his forearms.

“you good, baby?” eren whispers, smooching your cheek again.

chewing at your lips, you nod. “uh huh.”

eren moans as your fingers thread through the brown coils of his hair, tugging and planting a kiss on the shell of his ear, jumping slightly from the way he patted your pussy with his dick, sinking back in deliciously slow. with your lips parting in sync, eren flattens his feet to fuck up inside of you, your walls spasming from how good it feels and the sensitivity.

collecting the tresses of his messy hair, you fist it harder which makes him fuck you harder. your tits bouncing on your chest you fondle at.

“watch us,” he says, placing both of his hands on either side of your head to force your head down to stare at how he fucked you, keeping your legs locked with his arms.

the sloppy collision of your stickiness coating his cock that plunges into you roughly, his heavy hits making the both of you whimper. eren begins to grow so weak from being in your pussy and the hard labor he’d done today, and you can tell by the slowness in his pace after a few minutes. he’s throbbing hard, knowing he’s close to cumming, wanting to making him feel it too. he also had to get up early and still eat dinner, so did you.

“ ‘ren,” slithering your head from his grasp, you guide them to sit at your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as you tug at his hair again and nibble at your bottom lip.

moving your body further up, you arch your chest forward and implant your feet flat to the surface, snapping your ass down to fuck him instead. eren tightens his hold on you, jaw slacking and squeezing his eyes shut while placing his forehead on your shoulder. you gasp, bouncing on him and constantly groping at your chest, skin clapping louder.

“you g’na cum in me, baby?” you speak with a whiny tone, taunting him.

“y-yeah, baby. please. bounce on that shit harder,” eren sucks at your side again, retracting his hand to land a harsh spank under your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “fuck, you do it so good, ꒰♡꒱. do it so good.”

“mmmm,” you smile drunkenly. “this daddy’s pussy, right?”

eren whines, and you love when he gets this way, so horny he lets his guard down. makes sounds he wouldn’t usually make. his tongue on you again causes your hips to stutter, that pressure building back up, a shaky moan pressing out the harder you fuck yourself on him.

“it’s daddy’s pussy. oooh, shit baby. don’t stop, i’m g’na bust all in your p—ussy.”

“all in my pussy?” harder, faster, you pounce your ass down, knees hiking and reconnecting as you drop down completely, feeling your orgasm near and riding him by scooting your ass on him.

“all . . in it— fuck. good girl.”

weakness fills your bones, loosing your balance completely, eren bellowing out curses and grunts as he locks his hand around your neck to pull your back to him again, swiveling his hips with yours while you both ride out the wave. heaving on the side of your face after he lays his cheek on yours, warm cum leaking into you while you gush all over him in exchange.

eren softly kisses at your shoulder, embracing you in his hold and moaning from your walls clenching on him. you can’t even find the energy to speak, enduring the comforting silence and weak breathing. rubbing your arms and molding his face with yours, skin to skin a necessity for him. rocking you side by side, smiling into his forearm he used to lock against your neck, inhaling the coconut fragrance in your hair.

“we need a shower, and that chicken pie i worked hard to make for you.”

“and that strawberry pie,” eren chuckles within the crook of your neck. “i’ll eat it all just for you.”

“you better.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[jaejoongs-nipple-piercing]

I hate it when my employer doesn’t listen. I’ve told them MULTIPLE TOMES that I have a breathing issue that has been made worse by wearing this respirator thing. They don’t listen. So in order for them to actually believe I can’t breathe in it I’m going to have to pass out and wake up in the hospital. I’ve told them I can’t breathe in it, I’ve told them exactly what happens inside whether I’m wearing the dumb thing or not. They just don’t care. I literally have an appointment next week that I’ve told them about at least 5 times for this specific issue and they even said that until I know what the problem is, for my health I should t wear the mask. Then the woman in the office told me that I shouldn’t wear it until I find out and said she would talk to the supervisors about it. But I guess like the idiots at my last job, she didn’t do it. And I’m still waiting on 2 gift cards I was told I would be getting, one of which o was supposed to get on December 1, 2023. LAST YEAR.

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ How they hold you in bed when sleeping

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia (separate) 

When the stars are perched in the night sky, and the world becomes wrapped in a still blanket of darkness - there is no better action than departing to your safe space, the coziness of your bedroom, and the safety of your beloved’s body next to you. The lights are dimmed and after a warm shower and a change into comfy pajamas, your beloved is met with a tender sight of your sleepy figure. It is time for rest, and with his arms open, beckoning you to hop into his embrace - you join him in bed at last. 

✧ A single glance from Pierro and his eyes would instantly soften upon seeing your sleepy expression. The Director of the Fatui doesn’t require any questions or even verbal communication to know that something is troubling you. Your solemn gaze and slumped shoulders tell him more than enough - and his heart aches in response. Silently but gently, he pulls you closer, his star-shaped pupils seeking answers from your own. 

“My divine one... A long day?” - he whispers, his hand lifting your chin to make you look at him. You don’t directly respond, but nod and press your lips into a thin line. Pierro sighs, yearning to vanquish all your worries and pain. But sometimes, words are superfluous.

“Do not fret your little heart. No harm shall come, for I am here, my divine. Shall I take you to bed, instead?” 

With a small nod and a timid glance from you, Pierro spoke no further. He knew what you required on such solemn nights as these, and instead, allowed his arms to pick you up, carrying your fatigued figure in his bigger embrace. He pulled you closer, his cheek gently grazing your face as he whispered soothing words and brought you to bed. 

He tucked you in, the king-sized bed bringing the familiar sensation of silky sheets and warm covers. He kisses your forehead with careful and slow deliberation before accompanying you to sleep.    

When Pierro sleeps beside you, he is often silent, but his gaze never leaves your figure. He’d lay on his side, gazing at your face as if it were the stars and the moon itself. Even within the dimness of the room, he has memorized the outline of your face, the soothing rhythm of your breathing, the contour of your figure. With one hand around you, you two slept peacefully, the troubles of the world left behind. Even the Fatui’s Director required solace, and this solace he would locate only in your tender arms; his sanctuary. 

✧ Il Capitano has memorized your routine. Take a shower, get ready for bed, and most importantly, sleep on top of him as if his body were a sturdy mattress. It’s not your fault your cherished is so much taller and bigger, right? Well luckily for you, he absolutely adores it when you climb on top of him, resting your head on top of his chest and legs around his hips. Your smaller figure clad tight around him like a loving weighted blanket while he slept on his back. His hands would gladly squeeze you, loving your softness against his toned physique. 

“You don’t mind my weight on top of you, Cappy?” - you’d often ask every night before bed, peeking at him with that tender worry that made the Harbinger melt in an instant. Capitano would continue to hold you, his sharp fingers tracing circles gently on your hips or your back.

“Dearest, I have carried heavier weights that quadruple you in size. If you were to bother me, would I be pulling you back to my arms whenever you toss and turn?” 

And thus, with the seal of approval from the honorable Captain, you’d smile triumphantly and sleep on him. That’s just how the two of you were: Capitano was a beast in size, slept still, and barely moved when on his back. Conversely, you were smaller in size, slept very lightly, and often turned or wrestled with the covers. Even when you had the spacious bed to your leisure, you always chose to sleep tightly clinging to him. And Capitano revered every second of it as if it was the biggest honor in his duty as your protector. Truly, an honorable knight protecting your dreams. 

✧ Sharing a bed with Il Dottore is a toil. If you managed to miraculously drag him out of his lab, he’d groan and argue that he has important research to do, that your concern for his sleep schedule is ‘childish’. Yet the moment he settles in bed, he becomes a menace to your sanity: 

“Are you coming to bed or not?” 

“Come here, closer.” 

“No, you are pushing around.”

And the cherry on top of it all? He’d stare at you during the entire night, maskless. You know he doesn’t easily fall asleep, even on days when he overexhausted himself in his experiments. So naturally, his method to relax is to press the side of his head tightly against your chest and just remain glued to you with the sound of your heartbeat being his salvation. You’d assume it is an adorable sight… until you’d open your eyes in the middle of the night, only to notice a piercing, red lens just gawking at you. Motionless and still, he just wore that neutral expression while being pressed to your chest.

“...Uh, are you going to just stare at me in the dark?” - you whispered in the dark, to which he won’t even move or change his expression.

“43 beats per minute.” 

You blinked sleepily - “... wha-” 

“Your heart beats approximately 43 to 50 beats per minute when you sleep. That’s anywhere between 20640 to 24000 beats for 8 hours of sleep.” 

It was your turn to gawk at him, albeit in confusion. His nonchalant yet stoic reply told you that he was, indeed, very focused on counting each and every beat of your heart while you slept. He remained pressing his ear to the middle of your chest, arms wrapped around your waist tightly. 

“Dottore, have you not slept this entire time…?” 

“Shush, stop speaking,” - he whispered more gently, pressing his face into you in a rather touchy manner as if you wouldn’t notice. “I am still counting. Your heart rate is increasing to 81 bpm.” 

“If you won’t go to sleep this instance I won’t make any Ajilenakh Cake tomorrow.”

As such, silence dominated the dark bedroom once more. The doctor said no more and settled on hiding his face against your body, not daring to admit that he loved your desserts. And even more, not daring to acknowledge that your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. To deny his infatuation with every beat of your pulse would be a lie, and to deny his longing to physically hold you close would be ignorance. So he settled to silently counting your heartbeat until succumbing to dreamless slumber. 

✧ Scaramouche didn’t require sleep. Everyone knew that. Regardless, your persuasion with the 6th knew no bounds as you begged and nagged at him relentlessly to remain beside your bedding. He would audibly scoff and cross his arms at your ridiculous request. 

“My body does not need rest for 8-something hours. Why should I even waste such precious time with you while you’re the one unconscious?” 

However, no matter how much Scaramouche put up the cold front and rolled his eyes, he wasn’t immune to your ingratiating puppy eyes or gentle tugging whenever you asked something of him. You’d always embrace him from the side, asking him softly to stay a little longer as you depart for the night. He, of course, would refuse and cut your answers short, but his actions told a different story. He was already tucking you in; making sure the futon was neatly laid and the covers warmly wrapped around you while he sat kneeling beside you. He just had to make a fuss first:

“To even insinuate such foolish proposition… You must be truly bored out of your mind.”

You’d only chuckle in response, smiling whenever he made sure your room was tidy and secure for your nightly rest. But even then, you’d reach for his hand, and whisper: 

“... Just stay for a while longer. At least until I fall asleep, okay?” 

Same scoff. Same attitude. But The Puppeteer never left. He always stayed beside you, despite his arrogant rebuttals that you quickly learned were nothing about. He’d either sit leaning beside you, keeping a silent company, or telling you obscure stories he heard from Inazuma or the Abyss. And at times, Scaramouche would remain kneeling by your futon even after you had fallen asleep. 

Your breathing was slow and steady, but he was almost afraid to lean any closer. All bickerings he displayed before were gone, and like a porcelain puppet, Scaramouche would find himself frozen in place, hypnotized by your soothing breathing. He just gazed at you, as if you were a distant star within the dark sky, the palliative breaths emitting from you told him that you were safe. You are here. 

And it was from you he learned how gentle breaths are emitted by those deemed “alive”. How your breathing fluctuates in different moments of your life: energetic when happy, hitched when disturbed, and peaceful when asleep. Strangely, this mundane motion of your chest falling and rising worked like a lullaby to Scaramouche. 

Alas, he now condemns himself for not caressing your face all these times he watched you sleep. A lonesome Wanderer sat alone, an empty futon beside him. Your familiar presence lacking, and he won’t hear your tranquil breaths. You are not here.  

✧ Your dear Pantalone had a fundamental habit before bed. He’d set his glasses aside, hair tied up, and go through his skincare routine right before bed. His hands diligently yet delicately wash all the apprehension and professionalism from his face. But the most important part? Trash talk with you about what happened at his work, while he focused on his reflection in the mirror.

“Could you believe that dear?” - the 9th called out to you from the bathroom, his brows frowning in displeasure. The man continued to cleanse his face. “Those insolent aristocrats offered another bribe under the table, thinking that would change my final statement.” 

You responded with a faint “Mhm,” back at him. 

“And then! The tasteless bastard dared to ask that some of their reports be delayed because he will pay twice, as long as no one checks for quality control. I mean, the audacity of some of those high-society morons!” 

“Right, right” - you murmured faintly from the bedroom. 

Pantalone massaged his cheekbones, making sure his face was as affluent as his taste and status. He adjusted his robe, still rambling with the same frustrated passion. “They think that just because they’re doing business with me, negotiating with a high sum of bribes would lead to a guaranteed deal with the Fatui. Ugh.” 

This time, there was no response from you. The bedroom was awfully silent, despite the night lamp still shining. 

“Honey?” - Pantalone called gently. 

Silence. The Regrator stepped out of the bathroom, a curious look on his face, until his eyes spotted you in bed, asleep. His expression immediately softens, all quarrels and gossip forgotten. It seems that his late-night rambles about work have thrilled you so much that you, obviously, dozed off. You didn’t even turn off the lights or get under the covers yet.  

Pantalone couldn’t help but smile softly. You two had a long day, anyway. He quietly finished his preparations for bed, changed into comfortable nightwear, and stepped closer to your side. With a delicate touch, he made sure you were tucked in properly, giving you the usual good night kiss on the forehead and tucking your hair away from your face. The man dimmed the lights before he two took his rightful place in bed beside you. 

Whatever quarrels troubled his mind now - didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had your comforting presence beside him in bed. As he slowly spooned your sleeping figure, Pantalone let out a sigh of relief, letting his head rest by the crook of your nape. Only then, did the Regrator feel his body go into ease, feeling the tranquil silence settle upon the room. Thus, the two of you slept warmly; Something that Pantalone would never trade for any riches or gold. 

✧ Ah yes, Tartaglia, his sweetheart, and their 50,000 Mora five-foot tall Morax plushie. Childe remained lying on his back, his expression far from pleased. Ever since he returned from his mission in Liyue, he gifted you this massive dragon plushie. A plushie that became his mortal enemy. His tormentor. His replacer. 

The 11th frequently brought souvenirs back home in Snezhnaya. Liyuan tea sets, Inazuman dresses, or Fontainian gadgets. All for your spoiling, and the joyous smiles from his siblings. One of such missions, he returned home with several cute toys and plushies, just for you and Teucer. He is not beating the “Greatest Toy Seller” allegation anytime soon, but he was certain that the gigantic Morax would be a lovely choice for you. 

How naive he was. 

The plushie was almost your entire height, yet you held onto it with utter delight when he gave it to you. You hugged and squeezed it with love, finding the fluffy geo archon the cutest thing ever. And thus, here you were. In bed, not hugging your boyfriend, but hugging the massive Morax plushie. 

It became a common occurrence. At first, Childe chuckled at your adorable antics whenever you brought his gift with you in bed. But then it became more apparent that you would rather turn your back to him, and just fall asleep while embracing the plushie. Childe swallowed his pride. It’s just a plushie, he bargained with himself. But then he would stare daggers that that innocent, fluffy-looking Morax. How dare it be the one receiving your love, while you adorably squeezed or fell asleep on it.

It should’ve been him! 

Therefore, one night, he took matters into his own hands. Tartaglia sat up silently in bed, and by mustering all his skills in stealth, he sneakily pulled the Morax plushie away from your grasp while you slept soundly. He was slow, and careful so as not to wake you up; and boy, tugging that five-foot plush was no easy task. Once it was away from your arms, Childe grinned in triumph… and threw the toy aside. The enemy has been neutralized.  

Next step - carefully pulling you closer to him. You were already in deep sleep, so of course, you didn’t feel when your beloved naturally embraced you in bed. Shh, no one will know he was jealous of a silly toy. He was just a concerned boyfriend, who needed to bury his face onto the crown of your head and relish your warmth. 

The next morning, you woke up feeling warm and pressed to your dear Ajax, who was particularly cuddly that morning. 

“Oh no, how did my Morax plushie fall to the floor?” 

“Hm? Oh, you must’ve accidentally tossed it away while you slept, dear.” 

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 

 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you. 

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 

“It’s the 11th. Why?” 

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 

You didn’t need to be. 

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 

“Well, look who it is.” 

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 

He smirked. “You kept track?” 

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 

“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 

“What did you say?” 

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 

“I’m here, I’m here!” 

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 

“You - you what?” 

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.�� 

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 

“So far?” You said curiously. 

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

You land hard, elbows hitting the ground with a jolt of pain, but it’s nothing compared to the realization that someone is screaming—Blue is screaming. The heat in your veins fizzles, your heart jolting. Ghost has already sped off toward camp, pulling a knife from his ankle, and you scramble to your feet to follow.

Your movements are clumsy, your mind replaying the last few seconds, searching for any signs of trouble you might have missed. The air is clear, the trees are quiet, the ground is still. Yet, as you weave through the tall grasses that swipe at your ankles, you finally hear it—muffled voices, unmistakably human. They grow sharper with each step you take. 

Ghost reaches camp first, stopping in a lethal stance. You roll in just behind him, eyes snapping to where Blue stands behind the fence, alive and aiming one of her dad’s rifles at four strangers. Still dressed in an oversized sleep shirt, she juts the rifle through a gap in the fortification. Two of the strangers are mounted on a brown horse, while the other two flank their sides, backs swollen with rucksacks and chests thick with gear. There is no doubt they have weapons.

"D-don't come any closer or I'll blow your heads off! I mean it!"

“We’re not here to hurt you,” one of them says calmly. A man.

“I don’t care why you’re here! You need to leave before my dad…” Her eyes flicker to you. “Dad!”

When their heads turn in your direction, you waste no time arching the knife over your head. You’re not much without your bow, but this is all you have.

In a split second, your eyes land on the burliest of the group, a man with a boonie hat and a dense, brown beard. He was the one speaking. The leader, maybe. You aim the knife for his head, but before you can throw it, Ghost grabs your wrist, wrenching you to his chest without warning, the knife falling to the ground.

"Wait," he says in your ear, his breath steady against your skin. There’s a detectable lilt of surprise in his voice. You try to squirm free, but he holds tight. "Stay here."

He lets go. Confusion reels through you. Everything in you screams to pick up the knife, but you hesitate as Ghost signals for Blue to lower the gun.

He calmly walks over to the intruders, heading to the man you were aiming for. The air feels thick as you watch with parted lips, stance still readied and breath racing. Ghost stops in front of him, and the two stare at each other strangely before the man smiles.

A strong hand reaches for Ghost’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Simon.”

The clanking of metal against ceramic plates and the low murmurs of a fire fill the cabin.

Your spine presses into the wall.

There isn’t a free chair at the table, but you’re not sure you’d sit in one even if there was. Blue stands beside you, hands laced in front of her. She’s silent. You are, too. The cabin feels cramped with seven people in it. It makes your skin itch. 

You can inspect them more thoroughly now that you’re not thinking about who to kill first. 

There are two men—the older one you believe Ghost called Price, and a younger one you think he called Kyle. He’s fine-looking, you figure, underneath the overgrowth of facial hair and grime smudged on his dark skin. He had a tan cap on earlier but now a head of short, black hair is free for him to slick fingers through every now and then. Then there is a woman, some years older than you. She’s beautiful in a raw, Grecian sort of way, with long black hair and a violet undertone to her skin. Lastly, a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. It doesn't take much to discern he is related to Kyle in some way.

They all look starving, though not as much as you once were. Nevertheless, Ghost is feeding them more than scraps. Canned beans, rice, and rabbit. They shovel it into their mouths. The men have muscles on them, so they can’t have been struggling much. Based on all the supplies they carry and the horse tied to a tree outside, you’ve figured they’ve been traveling for some time. A flurry of questions runs through your brain, but your lips remain in a tight line.

Ghost hasn’t said much yet. He hasn't even explained who they are. Your slitted eyes flicker to him. While the strangers fill up the table, he hovers beside it. His body speaks more than his expression. His shoulders are not tense and lethal as they'd been when you first sat at that table scarfing down food. But they're not relaxed, either; his arms crossed, still exposed from the black tee he'd put on for training, giving way to the slight flexes in his corded muscles that signal even he is thrown off by their presence. 

But he trusts them enough to let them in here. With the way they carry themselves, and the fact that Ghost hasn't killed them, they must've been in the military together. He doesn't seem like the type to have had normal friends. 

Kyle speaks first.

He thrums the pads of his fingertips against the wood and clears his throat, breaking your thoughts. "We were hoping you'd still be here, but it was a shot in the dark."

"I’ve never left," Ghost says, plainly.

Kyle sips from his mug and wipes his mouth, then his eyes shift toward you. You meet his gaze with a hardened look. 

"We're sorry for scaring you."

It takes a moment to realize his words aren't for you. Blue glances to her toes. "I wasn't scared." 

His lips lift. "Of course not. It's us who should've been scared of crossing paths with Simon Riley's kid. You did the right thing, you know. Protecting yourself."

"I didn't realize you knew my dad." She nibbles her lip and looks up. "My name is Blue, by the way. And this is..." Her eyes flick to you. "My friend, Twix."

Your tongue pokes your cheek as you look over the new faces. What are you supposed to say? 

"Hi," is all you settle on.

Ghost clears his throat. "Kid, why don't you clean some more water for them."

Blue nods dutifully, lingering only a second before pouring more river water into the pot over the fire.

"Thank you for your kindness. We haven't had a warm meal like this in days," the woman says kindly.

"It's a strong setup you've made for yourself," Price speaks, one hand stroking his beard while he pushes the cleared plate away with the other. He leans back, boonie hat still cradling his head and casting a shadow over his eyes, but you catch a glimpse of warm brown irises that might've comforted you in any other circumstance.

"It's lasted me this long." Ghost shifts his weight slightly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Near the base by the border, further north."

"Last I heard you were in Manchester."

"Once the radios went out, we picked up my wife," he touches the woman's shoulder, "Nereida, and Kyle's nephew here, Ari, from Newcastle. Made camp with a few others. Served us well for the past five years."

Ghost slowly nods and then drawls, "And Soap?”

Price leans his forearms on the table. "Not quite sure. The base was falling apart, but he stayed back, saying he'd meet up with us once he could. That was five years ago."

You're not sure who Soap is, someone else they worked with, maybe. There is a brief pause before Ghost asks, "Why did you leave?"

"More and more of 'em, Simon," Price replies with a slight shake of his head, emitting a low breath. "Made it difficult to even get food."

"Too many of them, not enough of us," Nereida murmurs distantly. Her hand slips under the table, out of view. You imagine it resting on Price's thigh as she leans into him with a weighted sigh. "They always seem to be moving. Not with a destination in mind, of course, but it was only a matter of time before they ruined our setup. We decided to leave before that could happen."

Kyles adds, "It wasn't an easy decision, but living in anticipation of the worst isn't really living at all."

Your brows lower. “Where exactly could you be headed that wouldn't mean living in anticipation of the worst?” you can't stop yourself from asking, the question burning in your mind. 

Price leans back, those warm brown eyes finding yours. A short heartbeat passes before he answers simply, "Switzerland."

The absurdity of that single word response forces a disbelieving, chuffed breath through your nose. Of all the things this stranger could have said, that would have to be the least expected. You anticipate an equally surprised reaction from Ghost, but he seems unnervingly unfazed. Blue, however, swivels her head from where she sits cross-legged in front of the fire.

"What the fuck is Switzerland?"

"It's another country," the boy—Ari—answers.

Blue glances between him and her dad. "Like... not in England?"

Ari snorts softly. "No, not in England. It's across the channel."

"The channel?" Blue frowns. "That's... far, isn't it?"

"Very far," Nereida confirms with a nod.

The subject is brusquely dropped when Ghost reaches for their cleared plates. "You must want to bathe while you're here. There's a river nearby."

Price clears his throat. "These two can go first." He gestures to the woman and child.

Soon enough, you become irritatingly aware of what's happening; you're being shooed away, along with the kids and Nereida, so the three of them can speak privately. There isn't much room to object as you shuffle out of the cabin, carrying a handful of rags for them to wash with along with the homemade soap that you once used to wash away the grime and earth that caked up from traveling. 

The sun beats hard, the river warmer now that spring has aged. Dried sweat clings to your spine from this morning, but bathing yourself is the last thing on your mind now, not when you're still reeling in the presence of people you don't know. You swing a glance at the cabin behind your shoulder, something in your gut twisting. Ghost doesn't want you there to hear whatever they're talking about. 

"This is a good spot," Blue says, stopping in front of a shallow part of the bank where the water is warmest. She hands Ari some soap and teeters on her toes. You realize why she keeps staring at him like that; he's probably the only other kid she's met in years. She is even more shy than when she first met you. "Twix and I will look away, don't worry."

You and Blue sit perched on a rock as they wash themselves. 

"This is weird," she admits quietly to you.

"Very," you mumble.

When they're done, you offer Nereida the only clean clothes you have at the moment: one of the oversized shirts Ghost gave you and some jeans. An annoyingly strange thought brandishes your brain... you don't like the way the black fabric sits on her bare chest, nipples poking through, and the hem hanging down to her knees as it does on you. You should've just given her the dirty blouse to wear.

She sits at the edge of the river, wringing her soaked hair with a rag. From the corner of your eye, you catch Blue helping Ari rinse his dirty clothes in the water. You want to keep an eye on him; your knife is still nestled around your ankle in case they try anything, though a woman and preteen don't heighten your paranoia as much. 

"How long have you two been together?"

Her soft voice makes you blink. "What?"

"You and Simon."

You're confused until you recall the revelation from earlier—the man you've known the past few months as Ghost, the one whose hard form laid beneath you just hours ago, is actually Simon. Simon Riley. You're tempted to say the name; try it out. But it is hard to reconcile with. It might taste strange on your tongue. The name fits a version of him that doesn't exist in this world now, you suppose. British. Simple. Like John or Kyle. The name of a lieutenant. The bits of his face you've witnessed crosses your mind; his nose, lips, and chin seem like Simon. The damn mask is Ghost, though.

"Jesus... I am not—" You shake your head, the sun even hotter on your neck. "I'm not with him like that. We're just allies." You glance back at the cabin in the distance and you fight a scowl. "If that."

She runs her fingers through ravenous tendrils. "Oh. I apologize for assuming."

You offer a small smile. "It's fine."

"How long have you been staying here then?"

"Um, a few months now. I used to stay with my sister and a friend, but they died."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You shrug. "Everyone has lost important people."

"Doesn't make it easier," she says. "Ari's mom and younger sister used to be with us," she adds quietly with a solemn downward cast of her eyes, as if a memory has taken her for a moment. "They passed two years ago during a really rough winter along with this other couple we knew. Then it was just the four of us."

You inhale through your nose and release, frowning. "No child should have to experience that."

"No," she agrees, nodding. "They shouldn't. Which is why we're looking for a better life for him."

"And you think you'll find it in... Switzerland."

Nereida offers a half-smile, as if reading your thoughts. "We'd heard of a commune there, up in the mountains."

"A commune? Like what, a town?" 

"Sort of. Just... more people, living together. Protected. Greys make awful climbers, and the mountains there are much higher than anything in the UK."

This catches your attention, and the divot between your brows deepens. "How do you know it exists?"

"Well, we can't know for certain. John heard about it at the beginning of the spread, but it was too difficult to make arrangements at the time, especially when he had to help out at the medical site and then come find me. Things were a mess, I'm sure you remember."

"Yeah, I do." You reel in her words, thinking. "That was... years ago, though. Aren't you taking a huge risk going there now? What if nothing is there?"

"Staying in England would be a risk, too," she counters. "There is nothing here except death and hardship. You can't hide from it forever."

You look down at the water. Cicadas fill your ears, the buzzing drowning out your voice. "No, you can't."

You go on a hunt that afternoon, itching for some space to breathe. Deer tracks are harder to spot without the snow, but you find the unmistakeable marks of antlers against a tree and follow them. You glance around the forest. It feels endless and like a cage at the same time. Which way did they come from? If they made it to camp by morning, that means they spent the night here somewhere. You don't like the idea that others could be so close by, like that car.

The sun has turned orange by the time a healthy doe skirts in your peripherals. You stalk it behind an oak. An arrow flies from your bow, but you miss; the deer flees. You return in the dark empty-handed. No doubt, the visitors are fatigued, with Ghost already setting blankets across the cabin's floor for them to sleep on. You offer Ari the couch, figuring an exhausted kid needs it more than you do. He knocks out the moment he lays down.

"Here. For the night." Ghost offers you a heavy blanket and nods to the only bare spot of floor left after they've all settled down. 

You avoid his eyes and accept it. The moment he's disappeared to his room, you slip outside under the starlit night, finding the flattest patch of ground to lay the blanket down, which happens to be only a few paces away from a sleeping horse. It's not the couch, but it'll do for a night or two, and you refuse to sleep in the shed again. 

You're in the midst of standing back up after straightening out your makeshift bed when you bump into something solid. A hand grips your bicep and whirls you around, a pair of darkened eyes glowering down at you.

"What are you doing?" you breathe up at him. "I don't like when you grab me like that."

"What are you doing?" he retorts, voice low and hard.

"Trying to get some sleep."

"Out here?"

You look away and shimmy out of his hold. "Does it matter where I sleep?"

"It's not safe out here."

"You had no problem sending me out here before."

"You have since earned your keep," he mutters, as if annoyed you're even mentioning the past. 

"My spot is taken for the night by your lovely friends, so for however long you plan to let them stay, I will sleep out here."

"There is a spot on the floor for you inside."

"I'm not sleeping in there." With them. 

The whites of his eyes flash as he darts his gaze over your face. His tone softens perceptibly. A mere breath. "They won't hurt you, Twix."

You roll your eyes away from him. "I would just rather sleep out here by myself, okay? I prefer solitude at my most vulnerable. And it's not like my experiences with militant men have been pleasant so far." You keep your tone neutral, but a chill touches your spine at the memory.

Ghost emits a low huff. He suddenly rips the blanket from the ground and turns his back to you. "What are you doing?" you gape at him.

"You'll take my bed," he throws over his shoulder.

[tbaluver]

Hi! Wanted to ask if you could maybe do if L&DS men are cat hybrids and went into heat.

love your work

The Love And DeepSpace Men As Cat Hybrids In Heat

parings in order: Cat Hybrid!Xavier x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Zayne x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Rafayel x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, breeding kink, fingering, p in v, sylus receiving head a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ im soso sorry this took so long i hope this doesn't disappoint and if it does just pretend it simply doesn't exist ! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i was suppose to have this posted around kinktober but i got busy with exams so i barely just got back to it after the new banner trailer came out! thank you for loving my works and i hope you enjoy reading luv ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

you couldn’t help but stir in the sheets as your backside was pressed firmly against Xavier as he pulled you in closer. his head rested in the crook of your neck, running small kitten licks on it. sleep still clouded your mind and it took you a few seconds to realize his bulge was pressing against the plush of your ass.

“it-it hurts....” he lets out a whine. his eyes were half-lidded while his ears were drooped helplessly. he didn’t mean to wake you and never wanted to trouble you but the ache coursed through his lower half was unbearable. he couldn’t help it but he needed you more than ever.

“please can you make it better for me, honey?” he asked desperately as you hummed in response. the plump of his lips against your neck caused goosebumps causing you to arch your back enough to grind against him.

he softly grunts into the shell of your ear when you grind your lower half to grind against his clothed erection. his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, finding the curve of your breasts. his hands kneading them desperately while his fingers circle one of your nipples.

you catch your breath as his fingers looped around the waistband of your panties. little gasps of pleasure manage to escape your lips as his hands find their way to play with your clit. his fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing it slightly as if it begged for him. you let out a moan, your back arching your back more as he pushes a second finger in as he shallowly dips his fingers between your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips.

“so wet..need to be inside you.” he lets out a low growl, withdrawing his slick-coated fingers from your cunt that earns a whine from you. he quickly removes his boxers, desperate to free his cock from its constriction. in an instant, his hands find their way back to you, placing his hands on the back of your thighs.

without any words, his hands gently guided your thigh upwards. his mind was in a haze, consumed by nothing but thoughts of you- of being inside of you and filling you up full of nothing but him only.

xavier rocks his hips forward, slipping his cock between your lower lips. his hand squeezes your thigh firmly as he teases your entrance. “you’re so soft...so warm.” he lets out a breathy moan as his hair and the soft fur on his ear gently brush against your skin as he watches you slowly take him in. he carefully slowly buries himself inside of you, making sure to pause and let you get used to the sudden girth.

you whimper when he sets a steady pace, his hand moves to your hips to help him. “pretty...” xavier lowly murmurs into your ear, “gonna give you a whole litter,” he stammers out, his words faltering as one of his ears perked up while the other stayed drooped. his eyes were half-lidded and his tone completely shifted with the idea of you being the mother to his future litter.

his pace quickens, his movements are now rougher. his cock hitting so deep inside of you with every thrust as his name continues to slip out of your lips, motivating him further. his left hand rested on your stomach while his right hand found their way back to your breasts, kneading them desperately and pinching it gently with his thumb and index finger.

both of you fill the room with strings of curses and each other’s names as you meet the blinding heat of your climax washing over you both. his hips thrust into you one last time, digging his hands into your hips as he spills his seed into you, filling you whole until it drips to your inner thigh.

you both catch your breath, breathing heavily as he presses his forehead against the back of your shoulder. “thank you..’m sorry for waking you,” he murmurs softly, his fingers drawing circles on your hip.

you gently lift his hand from your hip, pressing a quick kiss to his palm. “t’s alright xavier,” you reassure him.

you feel him shift behind you as he positions himself on top of you and for you to lie on your back. your eyes widened seeing his cock still hard and shimmering in your slick.

“we’re not finished yet.”

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

you couldn’t help but notice the subtle discomfort of your boyfriend. he unusually fidgeted in his seat, shifting his position every few minutes. sometimes he’d get up, only to return to the same spot, often followed by a sigh or a low groan. it was clear to you that something was bothering him.

“is everything alright?” you asked. he didn’t even look up, his gaze remained fixed on the pages in front of him. he’s staring at the pages but he’s not reading the words.

“i’m fine,” but you knew him too well, especially in the condition he was in right now. the way his tail swayed and how his ears flicked from the sound of you gave it away.

you set your book aside, moving in front of him. you gently closed the book he was holding and removed it from his hands. without waiting for a response, you settled yourself in his lap, positioning yourself so you could face him.

“c’mon tell me what’s wrong zayne,” you said softly, trying your best to ease any of his tension. you reached up, gently scratching behind his ears, careful not to press too hard, knowing how sensitive he was. he winced, making you flinch slightly and you immediately lifted your hand, ready to apologize.

but instead of pulling you away, his palm met the back of your hand, guiding it back down to rest on the side of his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of your skin. his hazel green eyes lock onto yours as he presses his lips to your wrist, giving it a teasing but yet gentle bite.

“your scent.. it’s driving me mad..” he lets out a low groan, giving your hand a small lick over the bite. 

“will you help me make it better my love?” his eyes looked needy and desperate, you couldn’t say no.

you let him move his hand down over your thighs between your legs. the cool touch of his fingers grazed over your thin fabric of your panties, adding that attention that you wanted to your body.

he was quick to help you discard your top, letting him have your breasts displayed in front of him in all his glory. whimpers escape your lips as you feel the warm and wetness of his tongue lapping at the sensitive bud that made wet arousal stream out of you. you could almost feel the wetness seeping from you.

he couldn’t ignore his painfully erect cock in the restraint of his pants. he helps you remove your panties down, lifting your hips and leg off to fully slip them off.

“please, i need you,” he pleads, grabbing the side of your ass and desperately rocks his hips up at you.

“i can never say no to you,” you purr, helping him remove his pants and letting them pool at his legs. his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. he grunts out softly, his hands gripping onto your thighs, squeezing the flesh.

you take his length in your hands, attempting to line him up with your entrance. you rub his tip through your folds, letting him appreciate the presence of your wet folds before you sink down slowly on his cock, a broken whine escaping your lips.

zayne’s head falls against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut at the bliss of being inside you. the sensation of having your warm, wet cunt wrapped around his cock gave him the remedy he needed. and he needed more. 

it’s making him lose his composure and letting him kick into the animalistic instinct inside of him the longer you continue to make him feel so good.

his large hands begin to bounce you up and down his length, hungry to feel further inside of you. his pace is not usually this rough at the beginning but given the state he’s in, your priority was to make him feel better, too feel good.

you have to clutch his broad shoulders to stay in place, his thrusts setting your stomach in a blaze of ecstasy. he groans as he watches your face melt in pleasure and your tits bounce up and down, only making him want to fuck you harder.

“i-i can’t hold out that long love,” he pants, burying his face back into your breasts. you pull him in closer, your hands knotting into his hair as you bounce on his cock

you're having trouble keeping up everytime he slams you down into his lap. desperate, he pulls you in an open-mouthed kiss. It's sloppy and messy but yet passionate. you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

you could feel the coil in your stomach tightening to a dangerous extent, parting your lips as pleasure courses through your body. your walls flutter around him as he continues to pump in and out of your poor pussy, letting a low groan out of him.

he feels it, he feels his release coming but he doesn’t want it to end. waves of pleasure washes through him, his cock pumping his seed all into your hole. he watches it dribble down your leg which makes his ear twitch.

he doesn’t pull out, his dick growing back harder inside of you. he refuses to let his seed go to waste. he’ll continue and continue to fuck his cum back into you.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

this was humiliating. his own body has betrayed him once again and turned him into this wretched creature he disliked the most. a cat.

he didn’t like one thing about being a cat, let alone being human-ish and a cat. the only thing he could appreciate this time was the ability to speak to you and tell you all the troubles he had. all of it, except for this.

the burning heat through his lower half of his body was unbearable, his mind and body fought each other as his body called for you.

he wanted you, needed you. but he didn’t want you to see him like this- not with his ears twitching in embarrassment or this annoying tail that betrayed his every move. he paced around in the bathroom, deciding to endure this unbearable urge to pass.

that was until a knock on the other side of the door snapped him from his thoughts. it was you.

“raf is everything okay in there? you’ve been in the bathroom for a while now..” you trailed off, your voice faint and muffled.

“i’m fine! you can go shoo!” but his own body betrayed him as moved toward the door despite what he said. his mind screamed at him to stop but his body pushed forward, yearning for you. his tail swayed, already longing for the sound of your voice. he didn’t want you to go.

he can hear you sigh from the other side of the door. “i know you hate being a cat again but let me help raf.”

it was quiet for a moment from his side of the door until the sound of the lock clicking opened. the door creaked slightly until you pushed it fully open, catching the sight of raf’s back.

“see everything is fineeee.” he says, not bothering to face you, his arms crossed over his chest. even from the back you can tell he’s probably pouting. but you can tell just from the tone of his voice that he’s lying.

you stepped closer, your hand brushing up his tail. his ears twitched while his tail perked up in an instant you touched him. “you-!” his breath hitched and the last shred of whatever control he had slipped away.

he pressed you against the door, his left hand cradling the back of your head to cushion the impact, while his right hand braces beside you, keeping you both in place.

he looks at you up and down, panting before pulling you closer and capturing your lips with urgency. his hand moves to your cheek while his thumb grazes softly.

“i can help raf,” you whisper against his lips, finally understanding the situation. your eyes flutter half closed, drawn to the soft movement of his lips and yours.

he whines softly as he pulls away, his ears drooping while his tail still sways. he didn’t give it a second thought before hoisting you up in his arms and placing you on the cold bathroom counter.

rafayel leans forward again, pressing his mouth to the column of your throat. his warm soft lips trailed your heated skins as his hands fell to your thighs. warm fingers, eager and urgent, explored your skin.

you lean back, pressing your head to the cool glass of the mirror, gripping his shoulder as he gives you small bites and licks over them. his hands snake up to make quick work on your shirt as you help him remove it.

“your scent,” he inhales deeply, his nose grazing against your skin. his cock twitched from the restraints of his pants as he pressed a kiss to the plush of your breast before nuzzling his face between them. “you’re soaked aren’t you?” 

he quickly slips off your panties to the side and presses his mouth the pulse point just beneath your ear as his fingers brush your clit. he groaned at the slick gathered on his fingers, not that surprised that you’re already dripping for him.

a small moan left your lips, your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he pushed his fingers into your entrance. the pleasure was short lived as he pulled away as he unbuckled his belt. his hard cock sprung free from the fabric, begging to be inside of you.

he positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into your wet cunt, earning a loud moan as rafayel tries to fill you up. wet arousal streams out of you as you arch your back and cup one of your breasts, fingers flicking over your hardening nipples.

“soo wett..” he trembles, a whimpering mess he is. he continues to babble curses and praises, making your velvety walls flutter and tighten impossibly around him. a whine escapes him as he ears droop and his mouth partens.

he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more merciless. he can’t blame you for the way your pussy wraps around his cock so perfectly. the image of your pretty pussy being so stuffed of him, nearly made him lose his mind

“gods..the way you’re taking me..” he pants out, “wanna breed you. gunna fill you up with soo much of my cum yea?”

your mind is clouded with a haze of lust, feeling his urgent need to feel you up. yeah it could be a litter but fuck it you can change his mind about cats later.

“give it to me raf, all of it,” you huff out between moans, as the pressure starts to bubble in your lower belly. clenching around his cock as his pace sped up, his hips slamming into your walls.

“‘m gonna give you all of it, fill you up so much,” he tightens his grip on your hip, using his free hand to spread you open further to see his cum leaking from your hole around his cock, driving him over the edge.

he blows his load and fills your cunt, rocking your hips with his. you met your high that shaked your entire body while your eyes rolled back and had your toes curling.

you both catch your breath as he still remains inside of you, still throbbing at the sight of you.

“you’re gunna make me wanna fuck another load inside of you.”

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

sylus 𓅨 sent you a voice message.

he lets out a low grunt in the beginning of the voice message. “sweetie..” he sighs deeply, desperation in his voice. “i don’t mean to trouble you but i’m afraid i need you urgently. please hurry home soon.”

he lets out a low groan as his half lidded eyes fall on you, followed by a chuckle. his crimson gaze locks onto you, his lips slightly parted as he strokes his cock a bit faster than before.

you were still frozen by the doorway to your shared bedroom as you admired the scene that played out in front of you. a surge of lust pulsed through you, a tingling sensation blossomed from your core and spread through  your legs.

he looked good like this. his black button up shirt hung open, revealing the sculpted lines of his abs. his belt undone and his pants pushed down enough to reveal his cock that he lazily stroked in his hand. his face slightly flushed as his mouth remained slightly parted as he let out small pants while his ears drooped low.

you locked the door behind you as you crawled onto the bed, settling yourself right in between his thighs. “enjoying the view?” he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he raises a brow. “care to lend a hand sweetie?”

you let out a breathy chuckle, straightening up to lean in and kiss him. your hand instinctively moved to rub the back of his ears earning a low groan while his eyes fluttered closed at your touch. “always so shameless aren’t you sy?” you whisper against his lips as you continue to stroke the back of his ears.

you place small kisses down his jaw to his neck, teasing him as you trail lower and lower. your tongue tracing the outlines of his abs and muscles.

you come face to face with his cock, already throbbing and hot pink with arousal. you kiss the base of his cock, trailing up and down his length with your lips before tugging on it gently as you place the tip in your mouth.

his hands immediately interlace in your hair. the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive shaft was too much to bear, too good, he wished you’d never stop.

“fuck,” a low groan rumbles at the back of his throat followed by uneven pants. sylus throws his head back a little but looks back down to watch you. your eyes met his crimson ones as you release him from your mouth with a pop.

the feeling of his calloused hand could never compare with your mouth and tongue running up and down his length, your saliva dropping down and squelching on his hard cock.

“taste so good sy,” you moaned, placing a few tender kisses on his tip as you ran your hands up and down on his bare thighs.

his ears perked up once he heard that. he can’t finish in your mouth. he needs to fill you up. breed you till his heart content.

he lost all of his control, pushing you off him, your back hitting the soft plush of the mattress. you yelp in surprise as you feel him work off your shirt and bra urgently. he breathes you in, the scent of your bare skin filling his senses. his warm breath brushing over you, sending goosebumps across your body. “you smell divine,” he murmurs, kissing the skin of your chest before slowly moving towards the swell of your tits.

he takes your nipple into his mouth, dragging his tongue on it while he starts to suck. your eyes flutter close while your hands find their way to the back of his ears, making his ears twitch and his tail perk up.

his hands make quick work, pulling your bottoms down before tugging off the last piece of clothing that restricted him from entering.

“gonna give me a whole litter sweetie? keep you full of me?”

sylus sinks his thick heavy cock into your wet heat, your walls trying to welcome his length. your hands slide over his arms to rest on his broad shoulders, choked whimpers tumble out of your lips.

“so fucking tight,” he curses breathlessly,  your mind turning static with each drag of his cock against your sweet spot. it’s normally not like this with him, but he’s so desperate and feral right now.

the restraints of his animalistic urges were crumbling once he was finally inside of you. the way he effortlessly yanks you up with his calloused hands and wraps them around your thighs to fill you to the brim. he groans at the idea of stuffing you full of his seed, the warmth of your pussy was addicting that he didn’t want to leave. 

a guttural groan and curses escape him as he picks up the pace and thrusts upwards mercilessly. “i’m close sweetie..will you let me fill you sweetie? pump your tight pussy full of my cum,”

you let out a breathless yes as his hand rests on your stomach and presses it down. his words were barely audible to you now as he leaves open mouthed kisses. his teeth sinking into your soft skin, marking you his.

he could almost taste blood on his lips from biting his bottom lip too hard as he watches your belly bulge with each hard thrusts he gives. heavy balls slap against the curve of your ass, each thrusts of his seems to grow harsher, more deeper.

in absolute bliss, he finally fills you up and paints your insides white with thick spurts of his seed. obviously he doesn’t forget you. your orgasm hits you when he continues to pump inside of you, circling your sensitive clit in slow motion, incoherent whimpers until you feel your voice giving out.

“so good to me,” he murmurs, running a hand through your hair. he lowers himself toward you, peppering your face with sweet kisses and giving you kitten licks on the marks he’s bitten you on as you recover from your high.

“you’re gonna make a wonderful mother to my litter sweetie.” he murmurs, before sitting up, his cock still hard.

“sy please..’s too much” you whine as he lets out a low chuckle, “relax, you can handle it sweetie.”

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