#you know I love my inhaler lads
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mazzy-rockstar · 3 months ago
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I knew Noel Gallagher wasn’t shit when he said Inhaler made better songs than Lewis Capaldi and Sam Fender
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vibinsane · 5 months ago
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gods like listen... rafayel's eng va is fucking magical. the way he delivers rafayel's dialogue has me on my knees in the middle of a walmart and i just. i am Weak for not only a good ass voice, but also the deliverance throughout.
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kissitbttr · 1 year ago
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nobody understands how you did it.
how you managed to swept him off his feet, breaking the walls he had built pieces by pieces, how the fuck did you get him to be comfortable with you? to be open with you? and only with you.
‘never seen him this happy or loose in a long time, lass. what’s your trick, eh?’ the captain pulls a joke, making the rest of the team laugh. ‘i think I speak for everyone when i say, he never brings a girl out. let alone introducing her to us.’
that one is true. years of being friends with ghost, the captain nor his closest friend ‘soap’ has ever seen him out on a date. they encouraged him though, since there have been so many women tried their ways to get close with the big guy, yet none of them succeed.
the masked men would often just shrug them off and give one hard cold answer. they would back away immediately
“guess i just have my ways” is what you always say. even soap couldn’t register how it happened. he couldn’t figure it out himself, he knows the lad way longer than you do.
they don’t believe you. because there is no way in hell that all you did was to bat your lashes, show him your adorable giggle and he was in. there’s gotta be more to it.
so what is it about you that draws him close? what is it about you that makes ghost’s eyes light up each time you step into the room? what is it about you that makes ghost’s heart skip a beat every time he talks to you?
certainly not because how you’re so patient in getting to know with him, right? not because how you trace his scars ever so lightly and call them pretty every single time he’s doubtful about himself. not because how you console him with ‘I’ve got you, baby’ each night a nightmare comes back to haunt him while rubbing his back soothingly. not because how you shower him with soft, gentle kisses to remind him that your love for him is bigger than anyone could have offered. not because how you understand why he can’t say the three letter words to you, just yet. still, you stick around.
definitely not, right? there’s no way. he’s simon ghost riley. no one or nothing could ever be good enough to make this man come out of his shell. it’s impossible, right? you’ll need a miracle for that.
“love?” you hear a voice calls, along with the sound of keys being tossed into a ceramic bowl. heavy boots thumping against the marble floor,
you step out of the kitchen. long hair tied up into a messy updo, clear frame glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. dressed in one of his favorite sleeping gown as your eyes locked with his brown ones. the balaclava still attached to mask his handsome face.
scarred lips stretch into a smile the moment his beautiful fiancé emerges from the kitchen.
he drops his bag onto the floor, pulling the mask off of him slowly. revealing his disheveled blond hair as he takes slow steps towards you.
“hi, baby” your voice brings him home. no soul could ever take away from him. he longs for that angelic tone each time he gets deployed. three or six months without listening to you speak to him is just insanity.
he’d rather lose his hearing entirely than not having to hear you at all.
he’s quick to embrace you in his arms. your face hiding in the crook of his neck, inhaling that signature scent of his that you had missed, dearly.
“what are you making?” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, giving it a peck before pulling away slightly to take a good look at you. “it smells good”
“your favorite” you kiss his chin, causing his cheeks to redden at the affection. “i even bought those lumpias down the 112th street. i know how much you love them. pretzels bites from the deli for snacks aaand, black pepper beef with rice for your dinner. sounds good?”
simon leans against the doorway as he watches you plate everything. rambling about everything. his smile widens even more at your domestic antics. the way you talk with your hands as you mention another annoying co-worker that keeps bugging you and the way you roll your eyes when a splash of gravy spill from the plate.
truly is a sight.
“why are you looking at me like that?” your lips raise into a curious smile, finger moving a dark lock that sticks into your forehead,
he gives you a small shrug. gaze not leaving you neither does his smile.
“you’re just so beautiful”
something so simple yet it makes your stomach fills with butterflies.
you chew on your lower lip to prevent you from smiling too much, but a hint of blush is dusting your cheeks betrays you.
“come, papi… don’t want the food to get cold now, do we?” you change the subject while you nod your head towards the empty seat across. “eat with me”
the two of you sit there while making a small talk. stealing glances every second. feeding each other’s food. soft laughs fall upon both of your mouths when one make a terrible joke.
something you’d see when two people are in love. c
so yes, the answer to that question. it is possible. because you made it possible. you made it possible for him to love again. even if he had to start all over. you made it possible for him to be vulnerable. you gave him a purpose the moment he thought things were looking bad for him.
he found a solace within your existence.
only you made it possible to bring the simon in him.
vbecause you. are his home
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tbaluver · 3 months ago
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Can you do the lad boys comforting the reader having a panic attack? Your writing is amazing!
Comforting You During A Panic Attack- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you so much (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope you'll like this and enjoy! any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
If you allow him, he will fully pick you up or help remove you from the situation or put you in a safe place like your room or a secluded area depending on where you guys are.
If you wanted space, he'll sit beside you and will let you sit or lean on him if you need him there. When you're ready, he'll hold you for as long as you want him too. One hand is stroking your hair or rubbing your back to calm you down while the other is to hold one of your hands.
He'll encourage and guide you to do some deep breathing with him. "Let's breath in slowly on the count of four and then hold for four and then exhale.."
He'll even offer some verbal support such as, "You're doing so well" "You're safe here, with me" while telling you that everything will be okay and he'll make everything okay.
Once your panic attack has passed, he'll offer you your favorite snacks while handing you some water to get your energy back up.
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Zayne:
Zayne is generally aware of how panic attacks are and understands how to handle the situation. He has seen it from his studies and even in the work area.
He won't even think about touching you until you give him the okay to do so. Unless you want contact during the panic attack and have told him before hand then he'll let you squeeze his hand or his arm until your breathing becomes steady.
He'll whisper reassurance so he gives you comfort without overwhelming you. "Focus on my voice and breathe with me." He gently holds your hand as he guides it to rest against his chest to match his rhythm. "Inhale slowly....and exhale" He would instruct you while maintaining a soothing voice. As you followed his lead, he'd give you constant encouragement like "That's it, you're handling this so well."
Once you have calmed down, hell grab you some water and wait until you drink it before you attempt to talk to him. But he keeps the conversation light because he doesn't want you to overexert yourself. He'll silently take care of you the rest of the day. He'll order you your favorite food and be by your side the entire time unless you wanted space.
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Rafayel:
One of the times he won't talk as much. He knows that if he talks too much it can be overstimulating or overwhelming at the moment. The most he'll talk is for reassurance like "Hey hey... I'm right here with you. You're in a safe place and we'll get you through this together."
He'll also use grounding techniques like naming five of your favorite fishies or what are four future names for your plushies to distract you from your panic.
He will only touch you to remove your hands to prevent you from hurting yourself during a panic attack but other than that he won't touch you until you give him permission to do so. So he'll sit by you until you're ready.
If you allow him to touch you, he'll guide your head toward his chest so you can follow his breathing. He'll be patient with you the entire time until you start to feel better.
When the panic passed, he'll ask if you're open to talk about it with him but if you weren't then he'll do his best to cheer you up.
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Sylus:
He stays calm and centered while speaking in a soothing voice to help you feel more secure.
He'll be right beside you but he won't touch you until you let him do so. His hand would be open for you to grab when you're ready.
"It's okay love, this will pass soon. I got you, I'm right here."
When you're okay with him touching you, he'd grab your hand and pull you closer to him. "I'm going to breathe slowly, can you follow along with me?" He would ask softly. As you matched his steady breathing, he offered soft praises like, "You're doing so well."
When you're back to your steady breathing pace, he'd ask if you want some space and if you would he'd give you all the time until you were ready to talk about it or just move on from it.
If you didn't want space, he'd let you relax against him and he'd ask you a couple questions if you were okay talking about it. If you weren't then he'd find something for the both of you to do that is minimal and not so stressful.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago
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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price
[MASTERLIST]
Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...
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John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 
Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”
However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…
More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…
And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 
He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 
There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.
His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 
He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.
He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.
But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.
So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…
You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 
It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.
As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.
Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.
You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.
They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.
“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.
“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.
“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.
You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.
You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.
“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 
A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.
Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”
Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 
“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 
It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.
“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 
“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.
“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.
“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.
Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.
“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.
“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.
Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.
“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”
“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.
“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.
“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.
It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.
“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.
“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.
“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.
After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.
The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.
“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.
“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.
“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 
“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.
“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.
“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.
Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.
The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”
“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.
“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.
“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.
He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…
So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?
Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.
Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.
“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.
The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…
So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?
He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.
“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.
You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…
His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.
“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.
A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.
“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.
“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.
The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?
Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.
“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.
“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”
[MASTERLIST]
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extra: 500 words-ish
The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.
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starry-fame · 2 months ago
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18+ Mercy [Sylus x Gender Neutral!Reader/MC]
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Summary:
He’s addicting. The way his eyes look up at you, the way his lips curl, the latent hunger in his eyes.
You’re sure he wants to devour you completely.
You fear you may like it.
Tags: Smut, Porn with feelings, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Complicated Relationship, Penetration, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Ambiguous Genitalia!reader/MC, Gender Neutral!reader/MC
Word Count: 6,167
Author's Notes: My No Defense Zone fic I took forever on when I wrote it lol, love this man. Meant to take place as an alternative - 'what if they fucked' ending lmao
Ao3 Check out Linkon Lounge, an 18+ Lads Themed Otome Discord Server! We stream otome/anime/movies, have lads boys rp/text bots (+Caleb ofc), and chill!
Masterlist
Frenzied breaths, a deep groan, the rise and fall of his pretty, exposed chest as your grip tightens around his strained erection. A broken noise vibrates against your neck, warm, and his hips jerk as you drag him with each pump of the wrist. Closer, closer—
The scene fades, melting away like warm honey. You groan and curl up further, muddled, disoriented, and almost convince yourself to let your mind fade into sweet serenity. It was good, felt so good, and-
…What the hell were you thinking? You jolt, startle yourself out of your spiraling thoughts and reorient. A smooth leather couch, the blurry edges of a home that costs more than you’d ever make in a lifetime, and that infuriating silver-haired man sat across the table at the armchair, idly flickering through vinyl records (you know he likes the classics.) Your eyes follow the moment of his fingers before slowly trailing up to his face. His lip quirks into a barely perceptible smirk.
“Were you dreaming?”
“You should’ve woken me up. Or given me a blanket. Hospitality much?” You grumble, properly sitting up and rubbing your bleary eyes. His own crimson ones crinkle at that, and your mind flashes — panting, the hard edges of a flushed chest as you trail your fingers down further and further. “Don’t be shy now,” He retaliates against your featherlight touch. His lip curls, trembling body betraying his collected expression. Your fingers press above his waistband, his hips push into your hand and—
You look away, but somehow, Sylus’s gaze bores into you like he can read every last filthy thought that plagues your mind. You grunt, briefly indulge in the flush-faced Sylus from your dreams overlapping with the amused one in front of you. That image of him so pliant under your touch, the thought that you could potentially work him to that state, bolsters your confidence.
“Mhm. I dreamt of a horse. An annoying one. Refuses to be tamed, tells me I’m bluffing and overreaching,” You say, leveling Sylus with a stare. It’s not the first time you’ve challenged Sylus, but this enigma manages to have you on guard with a single effective look.
“That so? What exactly did you do to him, then?” He muses, playing along. You slowly rise and approach him, pausing to stand at the armchair as his head tilts up at you in curiosity. Neck strained up, a huff of laughter leaving his throat as your hands splay across warm chest and slide down firm muscle to his hips. “Look at me,” you command when his eyes flutter shut, and drag his hips closer. He inhales sharply, and opens his eyelids just enough to see a sliver of red. Your lips drift to his pretty pale neck and bite, pulling a low grunt from him, then—
You roughly grab his chin, observing his stupidly attractive face from various angles as Sylus contentedly lets you, eyes narrowing, but otherwise unbothered. If he still wore that collar of his in the dream, you could yank him the proper way, snatch the air from his throat. But you suppose this will have to do. You finally step closer and tilt his neck up high, so you’re directly above him as you sneer down at him. “A little roughhousing never hurt. What do you think I should’ve done to him?”
Maybe he’s amused, or perhaps impressed, but Sylus laughs, a rich deep sound from the bottom of his throat. The way that sound rings through your ears, the way you enjoy it, pisses you off. You press a firm thumb against his lips to silence him, soft and pink under your touch.
Sylus’ gaze is a strange phenomenon. You only really know two proper emotions from this man: anger, and appeased. There’s always this cocky air to him, not an ounce of humility. So even when he’s staring up at you like this, it’s somehow just as powerful as him looking down on you. His chin is in your hand. You’re the one above him.
Yet, you can’t shake this strange sense of foreboding. You don’t know Sylus well enough to make much of him aside from his eccentricities, and him being a blatant heartless bastard. This sort of mystery, these missing puzzle pieces that create the shell of a man before you, make withstanding his presence feel like you’re subjecting yourself to a lone night in the wilderness with no gear, vulnerable to attack.
‘Do you hate me?’ Your mind flashes back, recalling him in ruby red robe and gimmicky cuffs. His scoff, the aversion of his eyes as he uttered ‘astounding misunderstanding’. He harbors no hate, yet, you can’t help but wonder if he likes you either.
“A little roughhousing, hm?” Sylus chuckles, and before you can even make space for him, he’s lifting from his seat and your hand falls slack to the side, default restored to craning your head up at this man. While you prefer looking from above, you’d be a liar if you tried to argue you hated him looking down at you. In theory, maybe, because you know he thinks everything is beneath him. But in practice, his lower angle is, unfortunately, just as attractive as his upper one.
“Wanna test that theory?”
And just as alarm bells start ringing, acknowledging the impending danger in those words, he’s crowding you back towards the couch. Not even aggressive, rather, a slow approach. A damn predator stalking his prey, and that’s somehow even more harrowing. Before you can slip from his icy gaze, the back of your knees catch against leather and his hand shoves you backwards, an inelegant yelp escaping your lips as you tumble back onto cushion. One leg crams between your own, his hand overlapping yours, pinning it to the backrest.
“Gh—Let go of me!” you gasp, strain your confined hand and lift an arm to shove him away. He snatches that one in the air with a scoff and pins both of your arms firm, hovering over you and face too damn close to think properly. Your heart thunders, somewhere between attracted and terrified. When he’s got you cornered, eyes gleaming in the warm ambiance of the room, the crimson in his gaze penetrates you. The creeping sensation of your soul being laid bare, infiltrated and consumed as he gauges your desires. Your lips quiver and quickly you shut your eyes, shaking your head vehemently.
“Don’t— I won’t let you use your-!”
“Pfft.” A humored breath leaves Sylus’ mouth. One of his hands lets yours free, and you feel those fingers decide to capture your face instead, stroke a large, soft thumb beneath your eye as he murmurs.
“You think I need that to figure out what you’re thinking right now, sweetie?”
Your ears tickle at that nickname, annoyed yet maybe a little… comforted? He uses it halfway between an insult and endearment, mostly the former, but occasionally the later. It’s condescending as hell, but shit, everything this man does is. You grit your teeth and slowly open your eyes to peer into his, and his own seem to twinkle in approval. No glowing, just a piercing red that carries a thousand secrets and the ability to strip your soul bare and destroy it from the inside out.
The color of spider lilies. You wonder how many people breathed their last breath in the midst of this gaze.
You exhale, free hand flexing as you silently debate pushing him away again. You feel small, pinned against the couch so easily. While most people would be no problem, Sylus seemed to love being the exception to every damn rule in the book. You don’t know what hole this powerhouse crawled out of, but being so soundly beaten by this man puts a bigger dent on your ego than you’re willing to admit.
“How long are you gonna stay like this?” You snap, jumping to your usual defense as you glare at him. He raises a brow, naturally, and the hand cradling your face sneaks down to press the pad of his thumb against your parted lips — warm breaths, his moist lips under your thumb as he watches you with eyes that make you lose all sense of reason. You lean down, fervently, and before you can even think, you bring your lips to his—
You try to banish the thought from your mind, let the dream rest, but it plagues you. Every damn look this man gives reminds you of his groans, the way his body is so responsive and trembles when you kiss at his chest and squeeze his cock.
He’s not—you’re not—his thumb swipes over your lips and your brow scrunches as you look him in the eye. He watches you like a puzzle itching to be solved, fingers dipping down to smooth over the front of your throat. Some embarrassing noise, what you’ll tell yourself was merely a sound of surprise, rumbles in your throat and you squirm, pulling your neck away. That man’s hand anywhere near your neck screams death and reminds you of the first time you were not so pleasantly held by it. You try to escape his touch but he stubbornly keeps his hand there, stroking it with a gaze you can only describe as ‘fascination’.
He watches your pulse, enthralled — and that look narrows into something else. Something you refuse to put a name to before his eyes flicker back up to yours. He chuckles, leans real close so his face takes up your entire field of vision.
“Scared, doll?”
Doll. Porcelain. Fragile. Easily manipulated and broken. You might just hate that nickname the most.
“Of—Of course I’m not,” you lie through the skin of your teeth, biting your lip to fight the strange foreboding welling in you. He’s stroking one of the most vulnerable areas of your body so gently and it fills you with a mix of apprehension and something very, very different.
“We can stop. You can ride home on that bike of yours. Word of warning, fuel’s low. Might break down on your way back,” He whispers, no, fucking purrs in your ear and holy shit, what the fuck. Your body trembles to that and of course he notices and snorts. There’s no way in hell, no way you’re gonna let this man press you against the couch and fucking terrify you one minute and arouse you the next. Hell, maybe you’re still both. The hand stroking your neck could easily crush it on its own, let alone Sylus’ evol.
Fuck, this isn’t—this wasn’t—
“You…!” You hiss, his hand goes from your neck to your collarbone, warm, big, and the feeling makes you shudder. You shake your head, almost in denial, and begin stammering.
“You’re a prick..!”
“Oh?” He hums, and the hand enveloping yours begins stroking the back of it
“And cruel. And heartless. And way too damn cocky, you really need to be humbled, and—“
You hear that gorgeous laugh right beside your ear as he leans down, face disappearing into your neck with strands of silk hair brushing your chin. Warm breath lingers, and you gulp but don’t let up.
“Someone really oughta put you in your place, knock you down a peg so you’re not so—mmm!” You can’t swallow down the gasp that leaves you when warm lips press against your pulse. His kisses trail along your neck, like a fire, and your body curls up as your free hand clings to his sweater. Fuck, feels good—and he’s nipping and sucking so sweetly you know it’ll for sure leave marks, that asshole.
“Such a noisy little kitten,” he chuckles, the noise makes you whimper and cling to him tighter, drag him to you. He pleasantly complies, presses his chest against yours and nudges his knee against your open thighs. His fingers sneak in your hair, pulling it back and exposing your neck completely so all you can do is weakly complain as he makes a perfect mess of your throat. Pays special attention to suck where it makes you sputter, soothing with gentle bites, his warm tongue.
“What are you, a vampire?” You hiss, quickly dissipating into a sigh when he knows just the right place to put his lips to make your body tremble. His breath, mouth, lips, so warm, so so warm, and then his kisses are trailing up to your jaw and—
His lips hover. So close and so perfect over yours. There’s a fire in his eyes, a heat that burns in them and makes your entire body feel alight. When you open your lips and they nearly brush his, you feel your face warm and quickly turn your head away to avoid his mouth, lips trembling. You can’t even look him in the eye, fidgeting with his shirt as you purse your lips. It’s not like it’s anything special. Really—but somehow a kiss to the lips feels more embarrassing, more intimate than anything else he could do in that moment.
He laughs at your avoidance, strokes your cheek and places a kiss right where his thumb was seconds ago.
“Aren’t you cute,” he teases, and you wanna glare and refute, but your words always catch in your throat when met with those striking eyes. He turns your head to him, his mouth quirks up, and he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips. Too soft and too sweet for him. It’s so uncharacteristic you can’t even think properly. Foreign, unbeknownst, yet eerily familiar.
There’s no deeper meaning behind his smirk, his lips. He’s just teasing you, getting a rise out of you, yeah, because he’s Sylus and Sylus is an asshole, always. And of course this asshole is kissing your cheeks and your nose and your forehead and you don’t know what to do but quiver in his hold, breathless and mind blank. It feels almost akin to affection but you know the words Sylus and affection can’t exist in the same sentence.
“To think this is all it takes to make you compliant…” he murmurs in your ear, and before you can finally find the words to snap at him, his lips are firm against yours. Bold. Your neck strains against the backrest as he presses deeper and gently coaxes your lips open, warm tongue brushing against yours. He tastes refined, like the wine sitting on the table, and his scent envelops you as you feel him everywhere, hands on your face and your own, body against yours, mouth on yours and the smell of expensive ass cologne — bougie Dior or some shit. You sigh and pull him closer, bite at his lip and groan into his open mouth. He openly accepts, low rumble in his throat as he pushes right back, pauses for a moment of respite before sinking in again and kissing you breathless.
His fingers wander, rough, and release your hand to catch at the hem of your shirt and caress your trembling waist. He watches you, eyes reflecting an unspoken question. It almost infuriates you how pissed you would be if he stopped at this point. You scoff and avert your gaze, lips glued shut even as you cling to his shirt unrelentingly. You hear him laugh, low, and he slowly, achingly lifts your top up and over your shoulders, ensures you’re bare from the waist up in one fell swoop.
The slight chill makes you shudder, while Sylus’s hands take this time to roam your frame. Curl against your waist and thumb at your abdomen, which makes you tense and feel a sweet tingle run down your spine. The warmth in your core, the heat between your thighs bolsters when his lips catch at your collarbone, and kiss a path down to your chest. He’s gentle, a soft pressure and warm tongue as he drags a slew of kisses to your nipple — then he catches it in his teeth and you tense with a bitten back whimper, giving his shoulder a reprimanding push. He has a nasty habit of biting. He merely laughs and spends his time there a moment longer, sucking and holding you as your hips roll against nothing, aching. His fingers dig, as though to punish you for wanting so much so soon — like he wasn’t the reason for it in the first place.
There must be something about Sylus, something about him that just makes you lose your sense of reason. Somewhere between conscious and subconscious. Because it’s almost like a tiny part of your mind — no, even deeper, some fragment of your being buried deep and away, wants to push through and melt beneath him completely. And it’s the complete antithesis to the active part of you that wants to give him a hard time and wish eventual hell on him as retribution for his sins. It’s weird—wrong, and yet you cling to him like he might disappear into stardust if you let go.
“You want me that bad, sweetie?” He murmurs against your chest, shifts down to kiss right below your sternum, and you move your hand to tug on his silver strands in retaliation. A sharp breath leaves his nose, and watching his face scrunch, slightly twist with parted lips, you feel satisfied. He’s addicting, the way his eyes look up at you, the way his lips curl and the latent hunger in his eyes.
You’re sure he wants to devour you completely.
You fear you may like it.
He does everything with intent, a purpose. He doesn’t just touch you to feel, he touches to elicit something, to receive. You jumping into his hands as they cradle you at the pinch of your waist, you throwing your head back when he teases this sensitive bit of skin just above your waistband, some incoherent murmur when he kisses at your navel. He keeps his lips there, presses his thumbs just below and the sweet tingle makes you whine, your body tense as you try to avoid looking too desperate under him.
“Not enough, hunter? Need more?” His voice is deceptively sweet as he mouths above your waistband, dips his thumbs inside. You sigh — you don’t know if it’s from his lips or his voice, and turn your head away as he watches, amused. If he wanted a verbal response, he sure as hell wasn’t getting one. But you think he knew that already. He laughs, pops open the button of your jeans, and you lift your hips as he takes his agonizing time dragging them down.
“Such an eager thing,” he soothes, kissing your temple and not so shyly pressing a hand between your legs. You hiss and your needy hips jerk into his hand, while his deep voice speaks pleasantly into your ears. “What is it? Want my fingers? My mouth?“ His hand strokes, gentle, too damn light, and you’re shamelessly rolling your hips into his touch, dragging him by the shirt and holding him close as you get off with his hand, dizzy.
“Off. Take it off already,” you grumble against him, feeling some module of defeat, but your desire damn well overrides your pride at this point. You tug at his shirt, insistent, and he chuckles before complying and lifting it well and off.
Seeing his nude body shielded only in a towel once before doesn’t make the sight any less novel. Sure, dripping wet is a whole other thing, but just the thought of this man stripping for you and you alone at your request has your mind in shambles. You let out a solid stuttered breath, and immediately lean forward with your hands drawn to his chest, like a magnet.
Fuck he’s ripped, like a statue, feels stupid perfect under your touch. You hear what sounds like a quiet, breathy noise followed by a soundless laugh. You glance up to look at his face, a subtle amused pleasure and it immediately overlaps with the dream that inhabits your mind. You want — you need— your fingers trail down, and he shudders so beautifully, like a work of art, lips parted in a breathless moan. His sculpted abs tense and tremble under your touch and suddenly you wanna do anything, everything to him.
And before your fingers can dip lower, he’s shoving you back, pinning your wrist to the couch and capturing your lips silently. The noise that leaves you is almost as embarrassing as the way your body throbs so bad your mind grows hazy. Not fair. So not fucking fair. This kiss is deep, no, rather, a myriad of kisses over and over. Slow and steady to desperate and raw, always leaving you wondering which he’ll do next. He completely swallows any noises you could make, holds you in place so he can completely dominate. It’s stupid hot and you need him so goddamn bad. You know you’re an aching mess and there’s an embarrassing wet spot staining the underwear he left on you.
“So touchy. This how you tried to tame the horse in your dream, hmm?” He groans into your mouth, handsy all over. The more he kisses you and the more his fingers make you quiver, the more your mind goes blank.
“I-It’s—“ you try to speak, but his lips envelop yours to shut you up. One moment you’re melting against the couch, the second two strong hands hook around your thighs and you gasp as you’re hoisted in the air, automatically wrapping your legs around him to steady yourself.
You try to pull away in pure shock, grab your breath and comment, but his fingers dig into your scalp and hold you as he walks with both your mouths preoccupied. You pathetically rock into his body, seeking any form of stimulation you can manage, he can give. Instead of the bedroom like you expect, he steps back and impressively rummages through his bag on the circle table with one hand, before backing you against the large glass window. It’s cold, you wince and he thumbs your cheek to soothe.
“Sylus—I—“ you paw desperately at him, body trembling as your thoughts border on blank from the way this man kisses you and the way you flutter in response. He presses a soft lingering kiss to your lips before pulling away, watching you with dark eyes, that beautiful ruby leaving you speechless. You pant, heart thundering, and clench at his shoulders for purchase. “I’m… fuck…”
“You’re adorable when you’re like this…” He says, as though it’s a regular occurrence (you suppose it will be from now on.) You gulp and try to steady your breaths and heart that just might burst, and he’s settling you down gently. His thumb tugs at the waistband, hands dipping into your underwear and against your sensitive waist before pulling them down. You try to ignore the way you’re immediately dripping when they’re off. He takes a moment to openly admire you, eyes drinking in the sight of your swollen arousal. His thumb brushes just above and the proximity makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Like this, all for me.” It’s like a praise, and your eyes zero in on the transparent bottle in his hand. So that’s what he grabbed from his bag. He uncaps the bottle and douses his fingers without reserve — eyes flickering up to you. You fight the embarrassment his shameless gaze brings you. The anticipation that makes you throb. When he’s done, he places the bottle aside and leans down to press a light kiss to your lips.
“Relax, sweetie,” he murmurs, half teasing, half… sweet? Before you can think further on it, his hand’s already found its way between your legs and you brace yourself against the window. He bends to mouth at your neck, slow and sweet, while he swirls before pressing a thick digit in. With lube, it slips in smooth, though far thicker and deeper than you’re used to. You sigh as his other hand decides to join in and tease swollen flesh, soft strokes in time with the way he slowly teases his finger in and out.
“Sylus…” you hold yourself steady around his neck, quickly adjusting to the new pressure inside you as the strokes with his other hand ease you in. You rock into his touch, needy, and he meanly moves to pin your hips to the window instead, holding you in place while you whimper from the loss of his touch. For all that you want, Sylus only ever wants to give what he allows you to have.
“So greedy. Don’t you know you shouldn’t ask for too much at once? Lucky for you, I don’t mind indulging you every once in a while,” he chuckles — which is funny, he’ll indulge you any day of the week. Hell, pampers you even. But then he’s slipping in a second finger and your words are gone before they ever had a chance to formulate.
Your hips tingle as he drags them in and out, wet. He moves back to kiss your lips, goes at them again and again like he’s unable to get enough. Sylus is a kisser, you learn. Part of you always thought kissing was deliberately off the table for him. But the way his lips move, how damn sensual he is, and the perfect way he knows to suck on your lower lip is so good you can’t imagine him being anything else. His fingers curl deep inside and you whine, a jolt of pleasure running through your already burning body. Your body naturally rides his fingers, chasing that feeling, the way he can press against your walls so good. Makes you tremble in pleasure as he whispers quiet praises against your lips on how good you’re taking his fingers. They move and stretch, relaxing you, opening you up for him, and you can’t help but wonder how Sylus fucks as you’re hazy. Does he hold you down and pump into you mean and rough? Slow and sensual? Does he like to tease, to give, or to take? All three? Quiet whimpers leave your mouth and he’s adding a third finger the same time he goes back to stroking you.
You try to be good, to keep your hips nice and still for him. You want him firmer, harder, want to feel his touch burn on your skin for days and leave you dizzy at the mere thought. The dual sensation makes your legs tremble and it takes steadying your hands on his shoulders to keep from stumbling as he thrusts and pleasures your swollen flesh in tandem.
“Sylus… I’m… I’ll…” You try to warn him, wrapping your arms around his neck for support as you whine and quiver, his fingers insistent and hand skilled. He chuckles in your ear at your stumbled words, and fuck that makes you even more weak in the knees. The pleasure radiates from your hips all throughout, tingling, building so good and so quick. It almost surprises you how soon you’re desperately squeezing him and letting out quiet whispered noises as the build up finally overflows. Your body trembles, wrapped around him as you pulse around his fingers and against his hand, soothed by quiet praises while he strokes and finger-fucks you all throughout it, leaving you squirming when the feeling borders on unbearable.
He gives you reprieve, kisses your temple while you quiver in his grasp and try to steady your heart that’s thundering so hard you feel it in your throat.
“Knew you’d look just perfect like that,” he says, and you give him a weak squeeze in response. If you let go of his neck, you’re certain you’ll collapse on the spot.
Thankfully, Sylus, if anything, is perceptive. He wastes no time undoing his pants and moving his briefs just enough to release his eager erection, lined just with your abdomen. Naturally, you have to look, and shit. You figured he’d be something considering his damn size, but seeing it against your body makes you wonder if three fingers can even remotely compare. You tremble — maybe anticipation, maybe nerves, and comply when you’re lifted and pressed against the window so your jelly legs are given a break.
His lips mark up your neck beautifully — you can’t imagine what sorts of things you’ll need to wear to cover up the next week or two, and you subconsciously tense when you feel him slide himself between your legs, flesh sensitive and wet. His eyes lock onto yours, hot. Being so scrutinized when so helplessly at this man’s mercy makes your skin burn.
“Hm? What’s with that look? Want something?” Sylus meanly asks, and you hate the way your body responds to those words, throbs, and you watch him with a look of quiet, embarrassed defeat. Maybe you’ll have Sylus at your mercy one day, but today is not that day.
“Why are you so damn big…” you grumble, like you aren’t looking at him with heart eyes. That draws a throaty laugh from him and he leans close, lips settled right at the shell of your ear.
“So it can fit perfectly between those pretty legs of yours,” he says, and right then he uses a hand to steady his erection just where his fingers made you come undone, making you scoff and squeeze him tight.
“Perfectly isn’t how I’d describe your size in proportion to me,” you mumble. Perhaps feigning an attitude can help distract you from your nervous anticipation. Your body’s throbbing, begging, empty from his fingers and aching to be filled even after you just came.
“Really? Guess we’ll just have to see about that,” he whispers, light and teasing. In the same breath, you feel him slowly slide into you, arms supporting your legs as you sink onto his cock. You grip at him with a rushed moan, Sylus letting out a choked groan in response. You tremble, fight the urge to tense as you stretch around his size. Fuck — he’s so damn thick and fills you so much it aches. You whine and grasp at him with the effort to adjust, weakly murmuring curses.
“Dammit—shit, ah…” you choke and squeeze him close, burying one hand in his pale silver hair, and digging your shaky fingers into his shoulder. “S-Sylus…”
“That’s it, sweetie. Just like that. You can handle it,” he murmurs, tone so sweet for such mean actions as he pulls out and pushes in deeper, bottoming out. This position has you exactly where he needs you, makes you accept everything he has to offer. He’s so deep and you can feel him twitch inside, thick, an inferno, makes you sigh with each movement. He watches your face — this asshole, he likes seeing you whine — and let out a weak noise as he grinds, hips flush to you, before starting to thrust at a deep, slow pace. The warmth of his skin contradicts the coolness of the glass behind you, and you vaguely wonder how filthy your combined silhouettes must look in the distance.
It’s hard to explain the well of emotions inside you aside from pure lust. They blend together, a chunky, complicated mix of very degrees of pettiness, anger, mild fondness, and a deep-set longing you can’t pinpoint the origin of. Your body takes this longing and turns it into need, holding him to you, absorbing his warmth inside and out.
For a moment, you want to tilt your head and kiss him. You squeeze him harder instead.
You quiver around his length, each thrust accompanied by deep pleasure and a dull, pleasant ache. Sylus rewards your strain around his cock with his lips on yours, deep and devouring, stealing your already thin air. He guides you so easy, holds you up like it’s nothing while his steady thrusts slowly gain on speed. This position easily lets him slide against you in the perfect way that makes you cry out weakly, back arching. The pleasure is numbing and he brushes that area over and over, adamant on making you lose your sense of reason.
“Look at you. You handle me so well, sweetheart,” he speaks against your swollen lips like a dirty secret, panting against you as his thrusts hit the perfect spot every time. He handles your legs with ease and fucks into you harder, meaner, like he’s trying to bully these pathetic noises out of you. You whimper and claw at him, toes curling, feeling him swell as skin slaps against skin every time. His face is flush, eyes look at you like there’s no one else in the world — the only thing that exists is you a mess from his cock. His thrusts are as dizzying as his gaze you feel you can never escape, eyes half-lidded as he watches you take all of him. Your body’s a beacon of pleasure and your hips roll against his, rocking in time, wanting more, never enough.
“Please… please-fuck, Sylus… ngh…” You gasp, squeeze his hair tighter, and he fits his lips against your brow to murmur, “as you wish, sweetie.”
His hips are relentless, he stuffs you full of his cock every time and rolls his hips just the right way to make you sweetly numb, to fill you with that deep-set pleasure from within. His hair sticks to his brow, pants leave his body as his darkened eyes admire your sheen in sweat, rasping form. Fuck — he’s so — you need — he kisses at your neck and the sensitivity almost makes you sob.
“You’re shaking… you gonna come for me again all pretty?” Sylus breathes in your ear, you groan and clench him tight, making his hips sputter a moment. He smirks and picks back up his usual pace in response. You indeed feel your entire body quiver around him as the feeling grows more and more. Fuck you’ll — you — you can’t even say a word of warning as you’re suddenly letting out a choked sob, unable to control your tremors as you climax, body taut, tense. Sylus fucking you throughout only makes you whine and whimper as the feeling prolongs, white and hot. You’re so beautifully sensitive and rendered completely speechless, thoughtless. Sylus lets out quiet grunts all throughout, his own hips trembling, but pace unbroken.
Even when you come down Sylus doesn’t relent on his thrusts, he’s persistent if anything. At this point tears are pricking your eyes as you squeeze him tight, shame lost. “Please, please Sylus, fuck I can’t — please come,” you beg, sensitive, shaking, swollen, and Sylus laughs softly as his thrusts come in mean, hard, and fast.
“Mmm… How could I refuse such an earnest request?” He hums and holds you firm, his own forehead pressed against the window. It warms your ear and fogs the glass as his hips snap against yours, more erratic, your body bounced along with his rhythm and so damn sensitive you fight the urge to cry. Quiet grunts leave him, he’s more vocal, more open, and his large hands squeeze your thighs as he gasp and twitches. He buries deep and spills, releasing a pleasant groan right into your hot ear. He’s so close, feels so alive under your fingers and inside you, his heart an impossibly fast rhythm that puts yours to shame. You feel every throb, and you moan weakly as you’re held up, body swallowing every last drop. When he pulls out of your swollen hole, you feel the strength leave you and his cum drip down filthily.
“There you are, sweetie. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall,” he soothes, and holds your weak body up with the same ease he had the first time despite the time elapsed. This kindness feels as wrong from him as it does right. When you weakly rest your head on his shoulder to look at him, his sweet eyes return the gaze, appeased. He carries your limp body to the couch and settles you down gently, swiping a thumb across your slick forehead. “You had quite the workout,” he comments. You glare and push his shoulder away, earning a chuckle.
“Aw, don’t pout.”
“Next time…” you hiss, holding a finger up to him. ‘Next time’ implying this will be regular. ‘Next time’ implying Sylus is not only the fearsome Onychinus leader you’ve been made to deal with, but is now a man you fuck (and something… more?) on top of it. “You’ll be the one at my mercy.”
Sylus blinks, tongue lax as he observes you in mild surprise.
Then, his face melts into a soft grin.
You’ve seen so many new expressions from Sylus today, it’s like you’re meeting him again for the first time. He grabs your hand and gently interlocks your fingers, watching you with a look you can only describe as ‘affectionate’.
It makes your face burn.
He adjusts his hand so he’s grasping your palm, and he drags yours to his lips, dropping a soft kiss on your fingertips.
“As you wish, your majesty.”
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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 month ago
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Girlie pop, to say im obsessed with ur LADS self aware mc au would be AN UNDERSTATEMENT!!! There's so many things that could happen in this universe with our oblivious non mc mc. Like imagine them trying to ask out like one of their "sidekicks" on a date and the LAD boys are like "no". And MC being a lobe interest to?!??! My bi little heart is melting. I love it so much!!!! I hope you will continue this serious (that's if u want to that is) keep up the good work honey ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
[Aw! Thank You! Here's a little something for your kind words]
-
{ERroR} - Side Story Featuring: MC, (Y/N) and Xavier and Rafayel
Rushing into the quaint little flower shop, you inhale a deep breath. Twirling around through the shop as if it was a dance club, eagerly taking in the sights of different flowers left and right. Including the soft fragrances gracing your senses!
"U-Um... May I help you?" A small voice pipes up by the register.
Turning your gaze to the red-head, a sharp grin breaks out on your face.
-
After chatting it up while snooping and buy a few things, you walk to the checkout counter.
"...So that's a dozen and.... Half of the stock..." He gapes at the giant bundle of flowers in your arms, a few wayward blossoms on your scalp as you gleefully hand him the amount to pay.
"You seem to really like flowers?" He puts away the cash in the register and heads to the entrance door. Opening it for you as shrug, walking carefully to the exit. "It's a gift, there's this guy... He's so..."
"So your buying him flowers?" "Kinda? There's also this one guy that lives by place, oh! And this girl that stops by my work! You might know her!"
"I... Doubt that."
You wink, grabbing a random flower from your strange bouquet, placing it on his curly locks.
"Hmm- Well, ya' never know!"
Waving you out, he watches you giggle, strutting out of Philo eagerly. The young man sighs, locking up shop once your figure went further.
-
After stuffing Rafayel's mailbox full of flowers, you head on your merry way. A few still stuck on your clothes and strewn about petals lingering in your hair.
"Hi Xavier,~!" You say cheerily, seeing his body in the distant. Going further, you block out the alarm from the city as people fled the opposite direction. The blonde didn't seem to hear you though, so you marched onwards.
Blinking at a Wander stuck in your path, you frown, eyeing it blankly as it seemed frightened by you. It sounds of fear becoming louder as you walk closer, alerting it's brethren. Yet none seemed to help their comrade, focused on their own battles.
"!esimORP I ,yako-o-o-o S'Ti"
You spoke in kind as it shuffles back, sighing. You walk through the mass, ignoring the sounds it made. The small Protocore drops into you palms. Stuffing into your shirt, you keep pace.
-
"Miss Bodyguard!" Rafayel whined with a huff, toying with the one of the flowers you had left the other day. The female in question rolls her eyes at the painter, begrudgingly giving her attention to him.
"Yes-"
"Where is that cafe?! Please!" He begged, his cheeks a light red at having to beg at this point. Putting his pride aside, eyes hugs the few flowers that weren't placed into vases or folded into books. Maybe he could use them for his next piece...
"No, not telling." MC crossed her arms, not wanting him to intrude on HER go-to pick-me up spot.
"Why not?" He groaned, flopping beside the female hunter as she stood up from the spot. Watching her gaze fondly at a specific flower, tracing over the green petals.
"I'm sure my admirer would love to have their cute gesture returned in ten-fold..." He states proudly. His eyes re-reading over the note that came with, silly and sappy to his delight. Holding up the card to the light, grinning at the faint print of your fingertips.
MC stiffens as he continues his daydream, "they'll happily jump into my arms at such a present."
"Not if I get them something nicer." She teases bluntly, seeing his haughty smirk drop in a matter of seconds. The two smile at one another, the challenging looks shared did not go unnoticed by his manager.
-
Ugly sobs leave you, hugging the blonde to your body tightly. He shivers at the buzzing his gave at the contact. Letting his head rest to the crook of your neck. Gaze sharp at those who wished to witness the action. "Xavier! You're okay!"
"I... Yes."
He tries to ignore the thoughts of you, wishing he could focus on this moment. Though the trail of Protocore's behind you...
-
[Another side story! Who knew? Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it! Thought's if I should include the event stories? Maybe?? I wanted to expand a little on Non-MC for this AU snippet. Just a little- I wanted add MORE detail. But ya'll will figure it out anyway! Thanks for reading!]
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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago
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Back to Life
human!alastor x human!gnreader
Part 1 of 5+
summary for part: you had just been for a walk in the woods, and now suddenly you’re standing over a historical looking guy with a chipper attitude and… a gun? thankfully he’s here to help you in your bloodied and confused state, but as things play out you can’t help but notice nothing is like it was before your fall, and all you have to trust is the odd grinning man
summary for series: One day when waltzing through the woods a peculiar looking buck led you deeper in, while following, you fell hitting your head and woke to a stranger standing over you. You don’t know where you are, how you got here, or who this guy is, but he’s all you’ve got and he’s utterly insane.
warnings for part: short first chap, lowercase intended; i’m feeling quirkyyy, multiple parts-i put other things aside because my brain is STUCK on human alastor sorry lads ;-;, blood, descriptions of injury, kinda strange stylized writing, i’ve got like a whole story thing planned compared to the other ones-this one’s got a whole plot line. no descriptions of reader- of any kind, no pronouns, i looked up a shit ton of 1920s outfits & speech just for a couple lines lmao, OOC alastor my reasoning behind that is he’s not in hell yet so he hasn’t had that kind of demonic development yet, he’s still a psycho tho and we love him for that, also mommas boy <3, he uses 1920s slang a lot lads, throughout the whole series
warnings for series: homicide, morally grey reader, eventual smut, cannibalism, reader will eat a guy, unknowingly, alastor be doing witchcraft magical madness but it’s never in depth explanations, alastor is a mommas boy and it will be hounded on, annoying 1920s slang, alastor is more accumulated to the era he’s in so he may be OOC 100 years in hell would change a guy, varying descriptions of injuries and blood in detail, takes place in 1927, alastor is 27 oop born in 1899 tho, nothing here is canon, just loosely follows, reader is in their 20s at least; no younger, alastors mom is nameless mostly, maybe later on she’ll have a name; she’s 48, alastor has daddy issues bc same, mimzy may be added later depending,
you remembered seeing a deer while wandering through the woods, you were taking pictures of the scenery when you saw this curious looking deer.
it stood tall with large antlers, a beautiful reddish brown coat, you’d never seen a deer so close. brining your camera up slow you went to snap a picture when your phone crashed, you weren’t even able to get the buck in frame before your phone fizzled out.
the deer started to walk away, but you so badly wanted these pictures. slowly you followed behind, cautious of the leaves and sticks below your feet. you followed it over a fallen tree, through bush and branch. finally you entered an area filled with more foliage, closer trees that blocked off sunlight, more bushes and fallen trees, wild flowers, moss and random mushrooms.
you watched as the buck disappeared behind thick bush, and that’s the last conscious moment you remembered. you woke at the bottom of the hill, when you opened your eyes you didn’t know a thing.
it was like you were a blank slate, everything was as it was; there was no confusion, you were simply in the woods with no worry or question as to why. you laid there, your head lulling from side to side observing the tree covered sky above, the sunlight that shot through the trees highlighting the particles floating through the air.
there wasn’t a sound at all; the animals feared something near. inhaling deeply, you willed your head up, wincing and groaning in pain. suddenly life as you knew it came back to you, you weren’t just a mindless being in the woods, you were you, and you were out here taking pictures and then, fell?
you still weren’t sure what had happened just that you followed a deer and then… fell asleep and woke here. your body ached badly, specifically your forehead, your back, neck and shoulders. it seemed the brunt of the fall was your head, lifting your hand you touched your forehead feeling a flap of skin that wasn’t there before.
looking down at your hand you weren’t surprised to see some blood, in fact the top you had worn had been covered in it. “hello dear, funny place to snooze if ya ask me.” a voice joked, startling you. however your body was too tired to startle, so despite your heart rate increasing, and the jump you felt in your bones, your body remained eerily still, your head slowly turning toward the sound.
standing above you was a man with a soft smile, he wore circluar glasses and the strangest outfit. he wore a coat chestnut brown- a lumberjack coat; strange looking pants that puffed out at the hips, with boots that the pants cinched into them. his hands were covered by gloves, and tiny brown coloured coiled curls popped out from his hunting cap, and on his shoulder a leather strap that allowed a large shotgun to sit on his back.
you were taken aback by his looks, his outfit looked vintage, historical too, and he was, well, gorgeous. “you’re bleeding quite a bit dear, how’s about we getcha up and outta here, hm?” lending his hand to you, the man gave you a charming smile with lidded eyes. you felt something was off about the man, a lingering feeling that something beyond your understanding was telling you to run, get away.
instead you whimpered, pathetically so, and placed your hand into his, letting him hoist you up. he wrapped your arm around him, while he looped his own arm under you, helping you walk. it was hard to do so, your ribs hurt with every breath you took, your head felt like it was floating above your shoulders, your cheeks watered making you swallow constantly, and though you were shivering your body felt ablaze on the inside, like hot coals were lit under your skin.
the man looked down at you, you could see from your peripheral vision he was inspecting you, but you were too pained to care. “how’d you find yourself at the bottom of the hill my dear, someone try to bump you off?” his voice was way too chipper for your current mood, and all you did was mutter a confused ‘huh’ at him, thankfully he laughed that off.
“listen, i’ll take you to my joint my mothers over so we can getcha all patched up, but you’ve gotta spill whatever happened to you if that’s quite alright.” despite the sturdiness in his voice, asserting what was going to happen with expectations, he tone was somewhat kind. dryly you mutter out ‘name?’, your voice raspy and unlike your own. the man chuckled before he responded in a smooth tone. “alastor dear, pleasure to meet you.”
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skywlker-sluvtt · 1 year ago
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we know Anakin gets off on feeling like a pervert, can we get lil headcanons on that???
RAHHHHH OF COURSE BABY I LOVE PERVY ANI SM
i'm not joking when i say bro can watch me shower idc he's my everything <3
anakin x afab!reader nsfw below the cut warning: somnophilia, slight non-con?
➮ okay so like anakin is basically a stalker. we all know how scary he was at the beginning at aotc. "please don't look at me like that" "why not? 👁️👄👁️"
➮ he likes to watch. just watching you is fun. examining your body, memorising every curve and scar. watching helps him imagine what you look like naked. he goes feral when you expose any type of skin. he's like some victorian lad freaking out over an ankle.
➮ before a relationship with you, he has to be secretive about it. he can't just steal your panties out in the open right? that might scare you, it's just his dirty little secret. anakin likes dirty secrets, they make him feel gross and ashamed. makes him feel like he's a disgusting pervert, but he likes that feeling it makes him horny more than anything else.
➮ anakin glances over at the pile of washing in your basket. he was sure you didn’t even notice you left a pair of lacy panties on the top. they were taunting him, he needs to steal them. he knows it's gross and wrong. god knows if they're washed or not but he wanted to find out. anakin secretly hopes they aren't clean.
➮ he steals them quickly balling them up into his pocket for later. when later comes he's lying back on his bed pressing the crotch of the panties to his nose, inhaling your scent as he touches himself. edging his throbbing cock while he smells you, excitedly he moves them down and licks them too, and finds his new favourite taste. it's not long until the panties are covered in his saliva as he bucks his hips into his hand. anakin's basically cleaned your panties with how wet they are with spit. he feels so dirty afterwards but it was worth it cause he just had the best nut of his life
➮ it satisfies him to hear you ask where your panties are and he's like "oh i don't even know what your panties look like lol" as if they aren't under his pillow covered in jizz.
➮ when he's in a relationship with you it gets even worse and there's no choice but to encourage it. even though he has access to you at all times he'll peek through the crack in the bathroom door to watch you shower. you're not even aware of it until you hear his little whimpers as he touches himself. he loves the sight of soap dripping across your body, your skin glistening under the bright bathroom light. it's too good not to jack off too
➮ humping your pillows is another one of his favourites. burying his nose in your sheets to smell you as he snaps his hips into your pillow. he quietly begs, as if you're there. "please mommy, f-fuck i need you" to the point he's in tears. if you don't catch him he'll just put the pillow where it belongs covered in his cum. but his absolute favourite is when you do catch him and punish him for it😼
➮ he never really grows out of it. as the war continues he gets even worse. if he returns home from a mission late at night he likes to use you while you sleep
➮ resting a hand on your cheek as he takes his cock out of his pants. "i missed you my love" he whispers as he pumps his cock a few times. He pushes your top up until your boobs are out and he can feel them. "you won't mind right angel? haven't felt you in weeks" he moaned pressing feather-light kisses all down your chest while he took off your panties.
➮ he manipulates your body, using the force to keep you sedated as he jacks off over your bare frame. rubbing his cock over your cunt watching every movement you make. "such a slut, even in your sleep you want me so bad don't you?" he whispers. he ruts into your pussy desperately until you wake up confused. you know exactly what's happening looking up at your boyfriend. "m'sorry, m'sorry just need you. i've been craving you"
➮ it's okay though because it's anakin. he gets away with it cause he's pretty <3
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pretending-ican-write · 8 months ago
Text
Cowboy Up - Pt.8
Enjoy, touch angsty. I'm also opening up to requests for drabbles/headcanons of moments pre-show/outside show canon for this pairing because quite frankly i'm obsessed with them (and Ian Bohen i'm in love with that man).
Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader
WC: 1483
Previous part - Next part
---
Y/n exited the house with coffee in hand to see the small army John had amassed to deal with the cattle.  From the porch steps, she watched as who she assumed was a new hand talked to Rip who clearly didn’t think much of him.  Poor lad clearly didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to be doing on a ranch.  Y/n decided he was going to need her help to survive at the Yellowstone.
John approached her, “you’re gonna go with Rip up the mountain.”
“The fuck I am.  I’m going to the reservation,” she argued.
He shook his head, “I’m not about to let you be that close to it all y/n.  This is the compromise.  You help with the river or you stay here.  This is one thing that isn’t up for discussion.”
“Fine.”
She turned on her heel to one of the horse trailers where she took the rope of a horse from Colby to load up.  As she turned to leave, she was faced by Ryan who had bought his horse on.  Y/n let out a deep sigh upon seeing him, the reality of the potential danger to them in front of her in the form of his ‘livestock agent’ vest.  
Y/n leant against the metal, “I fuckin’ hate this Ry.”
“I know you do sweetheart,” he whispered.
They spent a quiet moment just existing in each others’ presence.  Ryan wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her body against hers and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.  Y/n allowed herself to melt into his chest, and inhale the smell of his cologne mixed in with that of the horses surrounding them. 
“You gotta promise to be fuckin’ careful out there.  I need you to come back to me when today is done,” she said.
Ryan nodded, “I promise to be careful, sweetheart.  You’re all the motivation I need to be safe.”
“I love you,” y/n whispered into the trailer.
Before he got a chance to reply, Lee interrupted them, “come on lovebirds we’ve got cattle to take back and a mountain to blow up.”
“You’ve got shit timing,” she whisper-shouted at her brother as they left, “we were having a moment.”
Lee laughed, “life is full of moments y/n, if you spend too long in one another will pass you by.”
Y/n walked past the line of trucks the hands were climbing into and headed towards where Rip had Comanche waiting for her.  She took her horse and gracefully swung up into the saddle, settling in for the long ride ahead of them.  They started off down the drive and y/n observed how uncomfortable the new hand looked on his horse.  Yeah he was gonna need all the help she could give him.  The convoy departed past them and y/n waved to her brothers in the first truck.  As the last truck drove past, Ryan looked out the window to see her blow him a kiss to which he smiled back.
-/-/-
Half an hour into their trek, y/n felt like the nerves were going to eat her alive.  Rip was leading them up the trail with no indication he wanted to talk and the hand looked far too scared to say anything so she took it upon herself to fill the silence.
“What’s your name?” Y/n asked.
The hand startled at her voice, “uh it’s Jimmy.”
“Nice to meet you Jimmy.  I’m y/n and I reckon you’re gonna need my help here,” she explained, “Rip’s a stubborn son of a bitch who thinks affection’ll kill ya and most of the others stopped maturing when they were 10 so I’m your best chance.”
“Thanks I guess?” He wasn’t sure what to make of the girl behind him.
Rip stopped her from rambling on, “what she’s conveniently missing out of her introduction is that she’s a Dutton so you’d do well to keep away from her.”
“Call off the threats Rip I know you won’t do anything to him,” y/n countered, “guy that uncomfortable on a horse didn’t apply for the job.”
Jimmy turned red at her statement, “listen I ain’t proud of what I done but-”
“Relax I don’t care what you did nor do I care to understand the decisions my father makes.  I’m just here to cowboy and ensure the place doesn’t go to shit before I get a chance to inherit it,” she explained.
Silence elapsed around the group and Rip took the opportunity to check on the youngest Dutton.  He turned around to see that she was clearly off in her own world, reins loose allowing Comanche to just follow the horse in front of him.  Her fingers were tapping out a rhythm on her saddle’s horn and Rip got the feeling her leg would be bouncing if she had her feet on the ground.
When they reached the top of the mountain they got to work setting up the charges to change the course of the river and fuck over the development next door.  Rip headed over to where Lucy was busy connecting up the wires.
“They’re gonna be safe y’know,” he stated, “on both sides of the fence.”
Jimmy looked up from the river, “is this legal?”
“You’re a criminal, what do you care?” Rip questioned.
The hand sighed, “thought the Yellowstone was gonna keep me out of trouble.”
“Getting in trouble’s the only skill you got,” Rip pointed out.
Y/n added, “difference is now you ain’t gonna get caught.”
Once everything had been set, they mounted up and headed back down the mountain.  This time y/n took the lead in an attempt to keep her mind off what would be going down on the reservation at that time.  
-/-/-
Nobody on the ranch had slept since they had returned from the reservation without Lee.  Her father had turned the house into some sort of command centre trying to locate her brother and y/n was sat on the porch steps watching the commotion having lost count of the amount of coffee she’d drank since coming back.  John and Jamie were talking around her but the words weren’t sinking into her brain.  Suddenly her father took off from the house.  Y/n shot up from the step and followed Jamie’s line of sight to where Kayce was walking Lee’s horse towards the ranch with a body slung in front of the saddle.
She gasped and felt the fear that had been keeping her going leave her body.  Her legs buckled, falling to her knees next the steps.  Jamie rushed to wrap his arms around his sister, letting her cry into his chest.  They waited in silence for Kayce to dismount the horse before Jamie let go of her to launch herself into her twin’s arms.  Y/n kept herself attached at the hip with Kayce whilst Jamie tried to get out of him what had happened but he wasn’t willing to give up any information.
At some point sat on the sofa she finally spoke, “someone needs to call Monica.”
“I’ll take Kayce back in the helicopter now.  No use rehashing this on no sleep,” John explained, “stop running on coffee and sleep.”
After the helicopter had departed, y/n made her way down the drive towards the bunkhouse.  The door banged open and the hands looked up.  The place was quiet, there was no insults being thrown around, and they were all there which was unusual for that time of day meaning Rip had given them the day off.  Ryan and Colby were on one of the sofas half-heartedly playing solitaire and Lloyd was sat reading at the table.  
Wordlessly, Ryan put down his cards and opened his arms for his girlfriend.  She made a beeline for him before burying herself in the hoodie he was wearing.  He wrapped his arms tightly around her, kissing her hair safely.  
“I love you,” Ryan whispered to her.
None of the hands made comment about the situation and Lucy fell asleep like that with tears drying on her cheeks.
-/-/-
After the funeral, y/n split from the rest of the group heading to the main house and instead made her way down to the barn in need of some emotional support from Comanche.  She found her father in one of the stalls with the stallion Kayce had been working with.
“What’s he doing here?” She asked.
John looked up at her, “think it’s your brother’s way of apologising.”
“How did it all go so wrong dad?” Y/n pondered.
He sighed, “I have no idea but this isn’t the end of it.”
“I’m still not being part of some fucked up power game dad and you don’t get to use me in some twisted politics but whatever it takes to get justice for Lee I’m onboard with,” she explained, “when we’ve got that we’ll talk again.”
John smiled at his daughter, “that’s good enough for me.”
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ghostsslutss · 2 months ago
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joost klein x vodka soda x rex club x chips and salsa
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heres your order:
joost klien x f!reader
tags: cheating , degradation, praise, size kink
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fuck why why did I do this. You thought. Your boyfriend went on a lad's trip with his friends, knowing him he was probably drunk clubbing in Ibiza. Joost Klein was your ex, that pesky ex that didn’t care if you had a boyfriend still. How his cock used to pound you endlessly again and again made you wet so bad. How his large hands managed to cover the whole of your throat while choking you. or how he used to pick you up so easily.
-
You were doing a DJ at the escape in Amsterdam, you dated Joost in private to avoid media and rumours. But it was one of the best times of your life. The love still burned within you for him, not for your boyfriend. For months you tried to avoid the pain of cheating on your boyfriend. But you wanted that fucking blonde so bad.
After your set, you left backstage. Hearing a swarm of fans, it probably was for you you opened the door to see him. that fucking idiot. Joost. There were people all around him asking for pictures one by one he signed them. Flirting and complimenting his fans, made you sick to your stomach. He should be praising you not them. as the crowd died down. Joost walked towards you, he was wearing one of his ridiculous outfit statements again. Kilt, tie and polo shirt with socks that go up way too high then some trainers. With his oversized glasses and messy mullet to finish the look.
“coming back to me again?”
Joost teased. You rolled your eyes crossing your arms and looking at him up and down. The fact he looked so hot made you clench your teeth. fuck. His blue eyes glared at you, wondering what was going on in your head. You finally snapped back into reality, covering your mouth and looking away.
“shut up joost.”
you mumbled, he grabbed you by the hips. Pulling you towards him. His tall frame towering over you. Feeling all of your curves, he inhaled deeply. Take in all of your alluring, strong perfume. You didn’t want to push him away. He felt and smelt too good. Forgive me father I have sinned.
“beautiful than ever.”
you tried to look away, his hand grabbing your chin. He bent down to adjust to your height and began kissing you deeply in the middle of the streets of Amsterdam. Tasting all of you, you softly moaned as he pulled away. A string of saliva left when he pulled away.
“lets go to yours it’s near isn’t it, little one.”
He grabbed your hand softly, watching you lead him the way. He was your protector, guard dog. That man would do anything to protect you. As you walked down the streets of Amsterdam people turned heads as Joost glared at people, watching people to not even look at you or touch you.
as you unlocked the door to your apartment, Joost quickly went in, throwing his shoes wherever they landed. of course he didn't give two fucks, he just wanted to fuck that sweet sweet pussy.
He went down to his knees, taking off your shoes and kissing your leg. As soon as he stood up, you slightly blushed struggling to keep eye contact as he towered over you again. Joost knew your weak points unlike your boyfriend did. He picked you up, you gasping as soon as he did.
“little one don’t worry.”
he smiled as he hummed one of his songs as he walked into your bedroom. Same room with the same Ikea furniture before he left. What a cheap useless boyfriend he thought. He gently placed you on the bed, taking your clothes off until your fully naked body was on full show to him. he licked his lips, already feeling his cock straining through his boxers. Joost started from your neck, kissing you softly. He moved to your tits, putting one in his mouth and sucking it softly.
“my favourite body part.”
you nodded as you moaned softly. Your breathing going more rapid and he moved down. He took his face away from your thighs. he pulled his kilt down and then his boxers. Revealing his lengthy and straining cock, you drooled at the sight of it. How you missed it railing you all night.
“on all fours.”
You obeyed like a dog. Arching your back for him, as he thrusted into you. You gasped. Your walls squeezing against his cock. he rolled his head back, groaning loudly. He delved deeper into you, penetrating you slowly but deeply. His nails dug on to your waist and he thrusted in to you.
“your boyfriend wont fuck you like this. hm?”
106 notes · View notes
kindestofkings · 10 months ago
Text
dear john
elijah hewson x singer!reader
(ex!charles leclerc cause hes a hot red flag)
plot: its giving friends to strangers to friends again to lovers 🫶🏼
face claim: laufey <3
warning: spelling mistakes
authors note: this is for the lovely anon who requested a speak now inspired smau ! Hope this is okay?!? I was tempted by doing something on the vibe of speak now the song but imma think on it 🫡
yourusername
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liked by charlesleclerc and others
yourusername wow last night on tour was something special 😢 to everyone who sangs my songs back to me and everyone who's supported my little dreams, I LOVE YOU.
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lucydacus killing it !
yourusername luv you <333
phoebebridgers voice of an ANGEL
yourusername ooh stop im blushinggg
charlesleclerc beautiful as always mon ange
ynfan1 post concert blues are toooo real
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wagsandstuff
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liked by ynfan1 and others
wagsandstuff huh that doesn't look like yourusername to us.... did the couple of 3 years break up without telling us??
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ynfan1 nooooooo that girl on twitter was right ah
ynandcharlesshipper charlessss man don't do this
charlesfan she was always feeding off of him
ynfan2 she has her own career you do know that right? she a really popular singer
ynfan2 not charles cheating on our QUEEN
yourusername just unfollowed charlesleclerc
yourusername just added to their story!
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lol gonna go heal my heart I guess lol
replies:
yourmum awh my beautiful girl :( glad you're coming home 💘
↳ can't wait to see you mam
yourbestfriend men are literal pigs.
phoebebridgers he's an idiot, here for you if you need anything
elijahhewson hey I know it's been awhile since we last spoke, but the lads and I are always here for you. I should've been better at keeping in touch, but I'm so sorry this happened to you.
↳ hey E, missed you! I'm just as much at fault, guess we all just got so busy with tours (both so successful heheh). where abouts in the world are you? I'm heading home for awhie maybe we could all catch up?
↳ elijahhewson deadly! myself, ryan and josh are home and bobby is back next week, call around whenever
inhalerfanaccount
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liked by inhalerfan1 and others
inhalerfanaccount did you guys know that yourusername is friends with inhaler??? I found all of these oldies while lurking her insta !
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inhalerfan1 bless they're so young, they all must of been friends during school !
inhalerfan2 crazy to think they've all become so successful
ynfan1 wow my two worlds colliding
ynfan2 I've always secretly hoped yn and eli would get together
inhalerfanaccount friends to strangers to friends to lovers hits soooo hard
yourusername
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liked by bobbyskeetz and others
yourusername time is a terrifying thing..
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yourmam I could probably find an even earlier pic...
bobbyskeetz I beg please no inhalerfan1 pleaseeeeee
elijahhewson smash x4
joshjenkinson_ the gang getting back together has 2024 winninggg
(liked by yourusername,ryanmcmahon_15 and others)
ynfan1 yesss bitch remind that silly boy who drives in circles of all the hot friends you have !!!
(liked by elijahhewson and others) ynfan2 hahahah eli woke up and choose chaos
yourusername
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liked by phoebebridgers and others
yourusername turning all this heartbreak into something good ! dear john is the rawest I've ever been in my songwriting, treat her with love x
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ynfan1 so so incredibly beautiful, thank you for sharing
lucydarcus you're a wonder
ryanmcmahon_15 sobbing uncontrollably and ready to fight him
bobbyskeetz you good bro ?
charlesfan1 tough day to be a charles fan
ynfan2 omg those lyrics are HEARTBREAKING
inhalerfanupdates
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liked by eliswife and others
inhalerfanupdates WHO HAS THIS MAN SO SMILEY???
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inhalerfan1 FOR REAL?? hes usually so moody
elijahhewson posted to their close friends!
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replies yourusername pure stalker when did you take this pic??
vogue
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liked by yourusername and others
vogue with just days before the release of her highly anticipated spohmore album we chatted to yourusername about love, loss and all things in between;
" you dont realise how easy love can be until you're with the right person. its the most annoying thing to hear when you dont have it but some how I was fortunite enough to discover"
find out what else the singer told us at the link in our bio !
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yourusername THANK YOU FOR HAVING ME
ynfan1 shes so happy and in love
ynfan2 how can one person be so talented, smart AND intelligent
charlesfan1 eww cant believe charles used to date her!
ynfan3 love how shes not petty like the leclerc fangirlies clearly still are..
yourusername
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liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername a year and a half ago I had my heartbroken, felt completed untethered and so so confused. today I give you my pride and joy!
this album features songs I wrote as a sobbing mess, some I wrote while I was healing and finally some I wrote after I opened my eyes and embraced what I had all along.
I love them all, I love everyone who worked on it with me and I escially love you.
comments have been restricted
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yourusername
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liked by lucydarcus and others
yourusername one single thread of gold tied me to you <3
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elijahhewson hell was the journey
yourusername but it brought me heaven. bobbyskeetz gross yourusername child
joshjenkinson_ my parents
yourmam my favourite pair !
evehewson sobbing it was always meant to be
phoebebridgers the sweetest love for the sweetest soul
(liked by elijahhewson and yourusername)
ynfan1 OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG
finished
authors note: ahh im a broken record with the friends from home trope but its my favourite 🥲 hope you all enjoy, please as always let me know what you think!!
202 notes · View notes
batwritings · 11 months ago
Note
Hii, I hope you're doing well! Can I please ask for headcannons for the brothers and dateables (if not everyone, you can choose, but please write for Lucifer, mammon and barbatos) would react if MC offers to put chapstick on their lips.
I know it's a strange ask, but imagine this scenario: It's gotten really cold suddenly (in? On? At?) the devildom and MC notices said character has chapped lips and seems very uncomfortable with it. She offers them her (can be gn!reader but I'm using she/her for better explaining) chapstick and they deny, but she insistist in putting on them, and they feel giddy because she's caring so softly for them 😭😭😭
I in the vibe of soft casual love, stay warm and hydrated 🫶🩷🩷🩷🩷
I don't think this is strange at all! Soft caring actions like that are honestly cute as fuck to me. Enjoy!~
Lucifer The absolute quickest to deny you. The great and powerful Lucifer? Receiving a smidgen of help??? The greatest travesty in all the realms, clearly. But bat your eyes and maybe bring him some Demonus and he might crack. Once you get it on, he didn't realize just how badly his lips were chapped. You'll be offered a small thanks, and a promise of something more substantial for a reward once he has more free time.
Mammon How could the cold affect the great Mammon so much? He simply didn't believe you at first. Fun fact, he knew damn well his lips were chapped as fuck. He just really didn't want to admit he needed the help. Simply subdue him with a kiss after putting on the chap stick and he'll be a puddle of grimm in your hands.
Leviathan <Insert MC doing the inhale "BOI" meme here> Being a shut-in means Levi doesn't exactly get out into the cold much. Therefor, he's a little more susceptible to the effects of the cold than his brothers. One trip to get a new Ruri-chan figurine and he's got chapped lips for days. Thankfully he has you to thoughtfully apply chapstick to his lips which leaves him with a persistent blush every time the two of you cross paths.
Satan Oh? It honestly hadn't crossed his mind. While he's no Asmo, Satan does take pretty good care of himself. He's actually the most lenient of the brothers in letting you help. If this were the Nightbringer universe, he's fight you a bit more. Yet the wrestle session would be a nice release for his anger, even if he couldn't go full force on you. He'd thank you by letting you put the chapstick on, blushing in denial of enjoying the attention.
Asmodeus Asmo, sweetheart, darling, you can't use lip gloss as chapstick, I'm sorry. And that'll be his excuse, mark my words! You have to explain to him that sadly, most gloss doesn't cover the chapping and he'll be more than amenable to let you put it on him. In true Asmo-chan fashion, of course he'll need to test it on you, just to be sure. A reward for helping him always look beautiful.
Beelzebub This man's gonna try to eat the chapstick, and no, you cannot convince me otherwise. You know how people see a big animal and go "if not friend, why friend shaped"? Beel, sweet himbo lad that he is will legit ask you, "if not food, why food smelling?". Did you have to reapply it multiple times because he kept licking it off? Yes. Did he complain to you every time that it didn't taste nearly as good as it smelled? Also yes. Did he learn his lesson? Nope!
Belphegor He spends ONE (1) NIGHT up in the observatory and ends up with chapped lips. It's rather annoying to him, and he genuinely doesn't hear you the first few times when you offer to put chapstick on for him. Belphie will deny it at first purely on the basis of "I'm not a little kid just because I'm the youngest". Just wait til he gets too tired to fight you on it and you'll get a mumbled little "thank you" before becoming his favorite pillow. Hope you have nothing to do for the next few hours.
Solomon Unsurprisingly enough, it wasn't the cold that got him! It was a spell gone wrong in trying to make a chapstick that would never let your lips chap again. Solomon sighs very defeatedly and sits back with a pout as he lets you put the balm on his lips. For practice purposes, he has you sit down and look over the ingredients to see where he went wrong. May or may not purposefully mess it up again to have you so close again.
Simeon You can't tell me this man wouldn't absentmindedly pick at the chapped parts of his lips. He can't be perfect forever ya'll, he's gotta be a little weird like the rest of us. (/j) You actually catch him in the act which makes Simeon fluster and admit to forgetting his chapstick in his room. His denial of attention and care for you is half-hearted and he very quickly crumbles at the chance to be so close to you. Maybe he'll have to forget his chapstick more often.
Barbatos This man is far too busy to realize his lips were chapped. It was one of those rare instances that you two crossed paths that you noticed and offered to put some on for him. In another rare instance, you notice Barbatos blush slightly because he didn't realize he'd looked so out of sorts. He had meetings with Lord Diavolo later that day as well, so yes! Please! Quickly! You make sure to add a generous amount in the hopes that it would last him through his meetings.
Diavolo His lips were chapped? Truly? It's only then that the demon lord to be realizes how absolutely flooded he'd been and that Barbatos had even told him about that earlier in the day. When you offer, Diavolo tries to politely decline, asking you not to waste what you have on him. It only takes a few minutes of remembering how busy he'll be and how this is absolutely a chance to know even a smidgen more info about you that he relents and lets you apply it gingerly to his lips.
209 notes · View notes
sirenlulls · 1 year ago
Text
feels like ➞ e. hewson
pairing — elijah hewson x fem!reader (gracie abrams fc)
fic type — social media au
met you at the right time. this is what it feels like!
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♡ liked by gallagher_anais, izzyrichmond_, and 663,982 others
yourusername hello dublin!! i missed u angels sm 🫶 the last time i played a home show it was to a crowd of 200 at most & while i’ll always be grateful for those intimate shows and the family we built, i am so so so grateful and excited to play a sold out 3arena tomorrow with some very special guests ;) see you soon 💋
user SPECIAL GUESTS???? she’s definitely bringing inhaler out for a song or something
user no because didn’t she say on an ig live a few months ago that she helped eli write perfect storm…
user STOP ID CRY
joshjenkinson_ LFG!!!! 🤍🤍
user WHAT DO YOU KNOW JOSHUA.
evehewson beautiful beautiful girl 🫶
yourusername i love u to the moon and back by gorgeous eve ☹️💗
jordanjoyhewson ⭐️girl!! So excited for you x
user her friendship with eli’s sisters is so special to me
user im so excited i’ve been looking forward to this for months 😭😭
oliviarodrigo sososoooooooo proud of u baby 🥹
yourusername UGH!! my liv my life i love u too much
user you’ve grown so much in the past year im inconsolable
bobbyskeetz they were lovely leaves
yourusername getting the snow angel practice in early x
ynhq getting our bows ready!!
elijahhewson you betrayed me with that picture 💔
yourusername the job of a girlfriend is to humble, i’m sorry babe xx
phoebebridgers 🖤🖤🖤
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ryanmcmahon_15 just updated their story!
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♡ liked by jojolovedog, lizzymcalpine, and 721,798 others
yourusername thank u thank u thank u all for giving me the perfect end to an already perfect tour… speaking of perfect things…. thank u to my angels inhalerdublin for joining me onstage for an encore. i love u guys so much & performing with u was a gift in and of itself 🫶 i’ll miss performing live but i’m so happy to be able to settle down for a while with those close to me. i love u all so so so much. thank u for supporting me 💗💗💗
user do you understand how many lives were impacted by this show.
user this is my boobgenius
reneerapp born to serve 💋
inhalerdublin thanks for having us 🫶❤️
yourusername i was looking at josh when he typed this guys just fyi
ryanmcmahon_15 i, too, ❤️ inhaler!
nieveella stunning beautiful yummy delectable talented showstopping amazing gorgeous perfect (storm)!!!!!!!
yourusername love u sm ☹️💋
user my roman empire
katiegavs can i get a kiss… pls
yourusername anything for u 💋💋
user post concert depression has already started to kick in
user u and eli sharing a mic for the perfect storm chorus had me 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM UNWELL
stellajones IT GIRLLLLLL
gallagher_anais don’t mind me, just sobbing in my little corner 🥺🫶💗
yourusername ani babyyyyy i love u sm ☹️☹️
yourusername updated their story!
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♡ liked by lilamoss, joshjenkinson_, and 699,810 others
yourusername a special thank u to this loser who means the world 2 me. don’t know why u decided to eat that paper but… i still love u forever and ever and ever and ever and… ever!!!
user omg the last pic in dying did they grow up together???
yourusername we went to the same playschool!! went to different primary & secondaries tho 💔
user THATS SO CUTE WTF
elijahhewson you love posting bad pics of me
yourusername you’re a leo you’ll be fine
elijahhewson love you and proud of you always 🤍
yourusername ILY BITCHHHHHHH
bobbyskeetz poor lad was starving
maisiehpeters so cute 🥹❤️‍🩹🎀
evehewson My faves ❤️❤️❤️❤️
user my alex turner & alexa chung fr
chappellroan IM CRYINGGGG YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST EVER
laufey 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞
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bigfan-fanfic · 5 months ago
Text
The Most Powerful Thing in the World (Mage!Reader x Henry Mills)
Sequel to Pay My Price
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Eventually you did have to return to Storybrooke
It had been quite a while, and Henry was missing his mothers, most certainly.
"Your moms... you think they'll like me?"
"They've known you since we were kids."
"Yeah, but... you know what I mean."
"You've been my boyfriend since we were sixteen."
"Okay, fair. I do like them, anyhow. Hopefully nothing changes."
So through the realms you travel until your feet touch asphalt and you inhale the familiar scent of Granny's diner.
"Henry!" His mothers cry immediately, rushing him in a hug.
Emma grins. "Hey, kid! Your hair is pink!"
Henry chuckles. "Yeah, it's a little bit of a curse."
Regina frowns, tilting her head. "A curse? Well, why hasn't Y/N helped lift it?"
"Because I cast it." You chuckle fondly, enduring a bear hug from Emma.
They look at you, eyebrows raised.
"Henry here thought the best way to deal with a strigoi in one of the Woods was to charge in there sword flashing. After I saved his butt, I cursed him with bright hair so he knows how much he stands out."
"I mean, it's a little unorthodox, but it gets the job done." Regina muttered.
"Mom!" Henry protested.
You giggle and nuzzle his cheek. "You know just how to lift the spell."
"Fine, fine. I promise to be more... willing to be discreet."
"Thank you." You kiss him, and a rainbow wave of light spreads from you two, restoring Henry's hair to its natural dark hue.
Emma looks between you two. "So... you two do this often? Little curses and such?"
"Yeah. We're being careful, Mom. It's just... sometimes I can get a little ahead of myself. You remember."
"Yeah." Emma chuckles in spite of herself.
"And Y/N's hexes make me think and remember to be more mindful. Besides, they're never harmful, just memorable. Much like my prince."
You blush. "Your prince, am I?"
Henry smirks. "Moms, we'll catch up for dinner? I think my boyfriend and I need to see to our apartment."
Emma and Regina get the Charmings and Hook together a little later.
"Wow. Henry and his boyfriend are... much more confident." Snow laughs softly.
"I'll say. I caught them snogging on the Jolly Roger. It's been a while since I've had to chase a lovebird off me ship."
David raises an eyebrow. "I thought pirates were all for loving on the ship."
"Yeah, when it's the crew, not a pair of wild young ones."
"So is Henry not part of your crew?" Emma teases.
Hook sighs, realizing he's been trapped. David high fives his daughter.
"Y/N's also taken my teachings to heart and become quite the magician." Regina noticed. "I'm not sure how I feel about their... exuberant hexing."
Emma smirked. "It's... well, I won't say every young love goes through it, but similar. I like that they keep things fresh."
Snow smiles. "Henry's a good man. And he's about to make a fine king. Y/N's good for him, to keep him grounded and centered."
"Yeah, the lad needs someone to make sure he doesn't get too big for his sails."
"That reminds me, has anyone given the kid the shovel talk yet?" David chuckles.
Snow shoots him a look, then smirks. "If anyone's gonna need a shovel talk, it's Henry."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Regina says, offended, before Emma interrupts.
"Let's just get ready for a family dinner. I'm not spoiling anything, but... I'm pretty sure Henry's planning to ask a very important question."
And the group moves as one to set the table at Regina's house, eager to greet Henry and you...
And to welcome you to their family, officially.
71 notes · View notes
yunhohours · 5 months ago
Text
ATEEZ: Top 5 Kinks
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request: idk if you’ve done a post like this,,,but ateez’s top 5 (or even top 3) kinks?? and i love your blog so muchh.
a/n: this request has been sitting in my inbox for two years (i'm so sorry). granted, i wasn't posting for one of those, but still. my b.
p.s. the kinks are not necessarily in order
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hongjoong
restraints - he'll say he likes this because he gets to have you under his control, but he equally likes it if you ever turn the tables on him. frankly, he might even like it more when you restrain him.
temperature play - this one definitely goes both ways. his body is very sensitive, so doing something like taking an ice cube to it will have him shivering violently. he likes doing it to you too, though. he'll watch with fascination as hot wax drops onto your stomach, making the muscles tense in response.
lingerie - this one's a no-brainer. he very much appreciates good style and has an eye for aesthetics, so there's simply nothing better than seeing you in a pretty little piece. he will take you shopping and buy his favorites.
dry humping/clothed sex - i must reiterate how sensitive hongjoong is to stimulation. it doesn't take a whole lot to get him riled all the way up and once he's at that point, he does not want to stop and take the time to get undressed and all that. he also likes the idea of you being so desperate for each other (especially you for him) that you have to have him now.
cockwarming - to put it frankly, he just likes to torture himself sometimes lmao. like yeah, he really does love the intimacy of cockwarming, but he loves seeing how much he can take, too–not that he would tell you that.
seonghwa
perfume/cologne - truly, seonghwa loves all the atmospheric parts of sex–lingerie, lighting, occasionally some music. but when you wear a fragrance he likes, it goes right to his dick. he will not be shy about inhaling your scent, letting himself get drunk off it.
threesomes/sharing - to get this out of the way, you belong to seonghwa. he isn't into this because he likes you being with someone else. he does, however, love you with every single fiber of his being and wants nothing but the most mind-blowing pleasure for you. so he's happy to let someone else help him take care of you, as long as he's still your main focus.
sex toys - he likes toys for two reasons: 1) he likes going shopping for toys with you. it's like foreplay and he likes to have a pretty collection for you. 2) he likes to try them out on you to see what kind of reactions he can get.
voyeurism - this isn't something that happens often because he doesn't necessarily go out of his way to sate this kink, but if ever you two are in the position to watch someone else, you better believe you will be. touching each other the whole time, of course.
praise (giving) - this isn't a surprise considering seonghwa sings your praises all day long, anyway. but he puts a lot more effort into making you feel like the undeniable god/goddess you are when he's pleasuring you.
yunho
phone sex - you've heard yunho's sleepy voice in his voice messages and his lives. don't even play lad. he knows the affect it has on you and he very much uses it to his advantage. will call you when he knows his voice is dripping with extra rasp and play it off innocently only to be like aw~ do you like the sound of my voice~
somnophilia - likes it when he stirs barely awake in the middle of the night and fucks you until you both cum and drift off back to sleep. sleeps like a baby afterwards.
breeding - the fact that you'd let him breed you makes him fucking feral omg. uses this as an excuse to fuck every last brain cell out of you with no mercy (not that he needs an excuse for that).
orgasm denial (giving) - he will deny your orgasm over and over again with a smirk on his face and all the mock pouting he can muster. he always gives it to you in the end, though, and makes sure to love you so much extra afterwards.
finger sucking/fucking - much like his voice, yunho is also aware of the deadly weapons that are his hands. and just the same, he will abuse this power every chance he gets. always telling you to open your mouth for his fingers or ghosting them between your legs while he asks you if you want them inside you, already knowing the answer. he just wants to hear you say it.
yeosang
pet play - yeosang gets unreasonably hard at the sheer thought of collaring you. you can be his puppy or his kitten, he doesn't care. you just have to be a good pet, whatever you are, because his rules are strict.
dumbification - never one to half-ass something that matters to him, he is a master at pleasuring you. he knows all the right buttons to push and when he sees the physical evidence of his success in the form of babbling, drooling, or the inability to talk at all, he's the most satisfied.
spanking (giving) - tbh, this gives him a perfect way to peacock his strength. even if he doesn't slap your ass as hard as he possibly he can, he knows that you know how much damage he could inflict, should he so choose.
praise/degradation (giving) - he often switches back and forth in the same session. he'll be telling you how well you're doing for him one second and the next he's calling you a 'dumb little slut' for not being able to form sentences.
sexting - my guy's poker face when he's texting you around other people is unmatched for real. he will send you the most mouth-watering text with a straight face. he likes to test himself this way, seeing how much he can take before he's losing his mind to actually have you.
san
dirty talk - this man never closes his mouth when he's playing with you. he simply has to tell you every single nasty thought and idea he has. he loves it if you can talk dirty back to him, but even if you can't, he loves to see how flustered you get from everything he has to say.
face-fucking (giving) - the fact that you trust him this much <3 you giving him full ability to fuck your mouth and throat until they're sore is precious to him. he often happily loses himself in this, eyes closed and jaw slack. he won't go easy unless you need him to.
marking - san is possessive? who ever would've thought? he wants you to mark up his big, strong back with his nails and he wants to leave pretty hickies on you.
exhibitionism - he likes the full scale of exhibitionism. he's content to just have someone listening in the other room or accidentally seeing when they come into the room unknowingly, but he's also not shy to just fully and intentionally fuck you in front of other people. he knows he'd want to watch you two, so really, it's a favor to the lucky audience.
body worship (giving) - san will worship your body in and out of the bedroom, but he will take his fucking time doing it when you're naked and craving him. will kiss every inch of your body, muttering the most love-laced words as he does so. he treats making you cum like a tenet of the religion that is your body.
mingi
roleplay - omg, he has so much fun getting to play different characters and scenarios with you. he likes that he gets to experiment with different personas for himself and seeing different versions of you makes him want to bed each one.
quickies - when mingi gets the urge to have sex, he wants to have sex now. like it's physically painful for him to have to wait or ignore it. he likes having the kind of relationship where he can alert you to his needs and fuck one out really quick. he does some of his best work in these instances, tbh.
strip tease (receiving) - the way you slowly stripping just for him makes him feel so special and wanted. he'll have the biggest smile on his face and the stiffest erection in his pants.
choking (giving) - i don't think he'd even know he has this kink until you mention it to him. he doesn't want to hurt you, but he only has to try it once and see that you're perfectly alive and well to want to do it again and again. once he gets comfortable with it, he will choke tfff out of you too, if you want him to.
overstimulation (receiving) - he lowkey but highkey loves when you take the control from him and make him a moaning, pathetic mess. it's incredibly easy to overstimulate him and every time you do it, he feels like he floats out of his body by the end.
wooyoung
spit kink - he just gets so fucking cocky about the fact that you'd let him do something so "nasty" as spitting in your mouth. it's an easy way for him to constantly prove your devotion to him to himself. every time you willingly open your mouth to accept his spit, he knows you're not going anywhere. doesn't love the idea of you spitting into his mouth in theory, but will occasionally succumb to it when he's really desperate.
mutual masturbation - he looooves a lazy, playful session where you're seated on opposite ends of the couch, watching each other get off. neither of you has to do too much work and he can make all the teasing remarks he wants because his mouth isn't otherwise occupied.
filming - he films more for the art of it than for any sexual reason. however, once again, he likes that you let him film you. he loves how you let him position you this way and that and follow whatever he says so he can get the best shots.
intoxicated sex - whether it's alcohol or something else, wooyoung loves to have sex when you're both fucked up. it's always messy, unorganized, and spontaneous. just how he likes it.
degradation - this isn't the first time we've talked about wooyoung's degradation kink on this blog, but i'd be remiss to not include it. he likes talking shit to you and he likes it when you talk shit back. it will arouse him quickly every time, and it won't stop until you're both too busy catching your breath to speak.
jongho
thigh riding - discovers this kink when you're extremely needy one day and take to attending to that need yourself–on his thigh, of course. he enjoys watching you satisfy yourself so much that he will sometimes tell you to just use his thigh when you come to him all needy. watches with hearts in his eyes.
guided masturbation - this usually happens on a video call. he will be completely clothed, just sitting in his desk chair, while he tells you how to take off your clothes for him and how to touch yourself for him. he's so casual about it that it makes you want to get a reaction out of him, but he'll maintain his composure. at least until he gets his hands on you next.
make up sex - unlike you might think, jongho doesn't like make up sex because it's desperate and intense and the like. he actually really likes it because he uses it as a time to show you how much he loves you. it's very soft, slow, and focused on you. the intimacy is unmatched.
teasing - jongho loves to go through a very normal day with you, casually dropping suggestive words or lingering touches in a place that's just barely appropriate. does it all so coolly that no one else is the wiser, but you're dying.
watching porn together - he'll use this time to discover new things you're into, but his favorite part is when you can't handle it anymore and have to have him. you're so cute when you're crawling on top of him and begging him to touch you.
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