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pepsichrry · 2 months

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Ride Pt. 2 || Theodore F. Nott

Summary: Your relationship with Theo escalates further

Set after the Battle of Hogwarts!

Warnings: Sexual content, Smut, Mentions of violence, Theo is in love, Theo is obsessed with his wife!!

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The spring had flourished into summer almost overnight, giving way to the birth of the sunlight and the heat that came with it. The Nott family home had grown more and more familiar as these days passed and you hoped that it would continue.

Things had shifted around the house, and not just because of the change in weather. You and Theodore finally began to align like rigid puzzle pieces. What was once a secret glance became a staring contest, being in the same room became sitting together and rooms on the other side of the house became Theo sneaking into your bed each night and staying to just be with you.

You soon became comfortable with the marriage, allowing Theo to shadow you around the house from time to time or even to sleep in your bed with you, sometimes you even allowed him to distract you from your reading and eat fruit with you on the lawn. As your relationship bloomed, you thought back to the very night that broke the silence.

It had become a regular occurrence now for Theo to spread you over your bedsheets and burying his head between your thighs. But that was all. Even as the months passed by, he hadn’t asked for anything more from you, only to sleep beside you and watch you as you slept. You obliged, not minding the company. You grew used to the familiar creaking of floorboards and the gentle nudges against your skin as he slipped into what was now his side of the bed.

But something urged you further than your new routine, to find out the extent of what could be done. You wanted to know what it felt like to be completely and utterly full with him, body and soul.

So, when he finally crept into your room in the dead of night, worshipped by the dim lick of candlelight, you were already waiting for him. His deep blue eyes watched you like he never had before, sensing the shift in the air. As he got closer, you sat up, looking over the expanse of his body. His hard chest was blanketed by a soft jumper which made him all the more comfortable than he already was, and his legs were clothed in a simple pair of sweats, ready for bed. It may have not been all that enticing, but the sight of him always seemed to drive you crazy. There was something about him so siren-like, so enchanting.

“You’re awake?” He asked you with his smooth voice and cheeky smile. You nodded, waiting for him to get closer so you could finally reach out to him. “I thought you’d be asleep, I didn’t mean to wake you, Bella.”

He drew your duvet back and climbed into bed with you, lying flat on his back with his hands over his middle. You turned to him.

Bringing a gentle hand to his head, you brushed his stray curls from his forehead as he watched you with tired eyes. He happily reciprocated your soft kisses as his eyelashes fluttered against your cheekbones and he breathed in your air.

You couldn’t stop, you needed him. You needed to drink every ounce of him up, you needed to feel him all over you, you needed his soft hands to touch you and hold you to him. It was as though, suddenly, you were overcome by desperation, or better yet, adoration.

He sighed softly, fanning soft air onto you as one of his hands cupped your neck, the other finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him still. You gladly obliged, pressing your chest against his and kissing him like he was your final breath, your only lifeline.

Theo felt giddy at the sudden attention on him. Your experimental hand dragged over his chest and slowly down over his stomach. He couldn’t help but squirm in anticipation at the idea of your hand trialling any lower. Your fingers entwined in the waistband of his sweats and you ran your fingertips lightly over the edge of the fabric.

By the sounds that he was making, you could tell that he needed you just as much you needed him.

Your pinky preached the top of his bottoms and ran over the slowly tanning skin of his abdomen as he kissed over your cheek and jaw. His pillowy lips traced over the curve of your jaw, leaving hot and damp hair to travel down your neck as his breath began to deepen upon your fingers trailing beneath his bottoms.

You pulled back, the ghost of your lips hovered over his as you watched for his reaction as your fingers began to brush over the tiny curls at the base of his cock. Slowly, they came into contact with the ache that Theo so desperately wanted to ignore, until your smooth hands were wrapped around it, he could have died on the spot.

His head flew back against the pillow, his eyes shut and his brows pulled into a deep frown, not of perplexity, but of utter pleasure. Your grip tightened ever so slightly around the thickness of his dick and he keened from where he lay. His mouth tipped open, so you opted to kiss around the apples of his cheeks, over every mole and dimple, further down over his neck and in the sickly sweet spot behind his ear, whispering for him to take off his top.

Theo couldn’t help but shiver as he peeled off his jumper, revealing him to the cool air and your piercing gaze. Every inch of his gorgeous skin was kissed by the sun, leaving freckles and birthmarks in its wake. You made sure to do the same, bending your head to press your lips against the moles on his collarbones. Theo sighed softly as you began to work your hand as best as you could whilst it was restricted by the fabric of his underwear, the sound carrying through the room. Merlin, he hadn’t even taken the rest of his clothing yet, but you felt him in the place where you needed him most, and he was big.

His slender hand soothed over your back as you sucked light purple bruises into his chest and neck while you pumped at his cock, encouraging you to do something, anything further. He didn’t know if he could take any more anticipation. He’d been waiting for you to allow him the chance to sink into you at last, but he was so desperate and pussy-whipped that anything would do. He waited patiently and happily for his climax and inevitably cumming in his pants again, until you slipped your hand back out of his underwear.

You looked up at him with desire on your face and he knew what you’d ask. “Take these off.” You told him and he obeyed.

Theo thought you could ask him anything and he’d obey, just like a slave to your command, not that he’d mind. It was just one of the many things he’d do for you in order to satisfy you.

He lay before you, nearly bare except for his underwear which did nothing to conceal the embarrassingly obvious fact of his need. His chest lifted up and down as his lungs worked double time and you eyed him admiringly. Despite the hardness beneath his boxers, you gently squeezed him through the fabric, enjoying the tortured whine he gave out.

You hushed him sweetly, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip with a grin. His eyes lit up with desperation. You booked a finger beneath the band of his boxers, yanking them firmly, and with his help, he became entirely exposed to you. You still wore your nightgown, which he eyed hopefully, but you made no move to take it off just then.

The lower you took your body, the higher Theo’s heart rate became, until your face was just above his crotch and he swore that he felt his heart stop. Testing the waters, your hand wrapped around him once again and brought your mouth down to place a teasing kiss over the tip of his dick. He puffed out a breath that he never knew he was holding and entangled a hand in your hair.

Slowly, you grazed the underside of his cock with your tongue, trailing over the soft skin with ease, wetting it with your saliva. You continued to do so, each time your tongue met the tip, you’d broaden your tongue and do the same thing over again as he grew more and more restless each time. You placed a reassuring hand on his thigh as they began to tremble and your thumb rubbed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, dangerously close to the curve of his balls. His head pressed harshly into the pillows behind him as he panted.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you took the very tip of his dick into your lips, surprising you at how much bigger he was than you thought. You sucked, hard, and he let out a deep moan at the sensation. It was an unusual situation to you, but you found that you could learn quickly about what he liked, so you continued to suck. Your hand pumped his length as you suckled and licked at his tip, gaining confidence as his noises grew louder.

His cock began to throb and his balls tightened, the only warning he was able to give being the grip on your hair clamping down. That was when you pulled off of him with a ‘pop’.

“But- Wh-“ He began, but you cut him off with a kiss, enjoying how quick he was to melt into your sudden affection.

You didn’t give him long to ponder as you slipped your nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for him to see. His intense gaze lingered over your chest before it trailed down to your wet pussy. You supposed he was half expecting for you to sit on his face like you often did, but you took him by surprise when you asked him:

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?”

Of course he was, how couldn’t he? All he’d wanted since he saw you in the big white dress at the wedding was to take you to bed and make love to you. And now that you were finally going to allow him the honour? How could he say no?

“Merlin, yes!” He rasped, watching you as you swung a leg over his hips as though mounting a horse. His eyes didn’t know where to look, so they raked over you as he prepared for you to take him.

You smiled sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips with your own. You took him into your hand and dragged his tip over your soaked folds; you had no idea how much pleasure it gave you to hear him whine. Finally, you lined his tip up against where you needed him most and sunk down onto him.

Theo felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, you were right above him, as beautiful as the sun and the sky and he’d never felt such bliss. For a second, he swore he saw heaven.

That was until you started to move, and he was rendered powerless against the pleasure you were giving him. He moaned fully now, head twisting into the pillow as though it would give him some relief to be rid of the sight of you. He couldn’t take it, he was sure to come just by looking at you. His mouth was hung open as though he was screaming in agony, except he was only tensing in pure unbridled pleasure.

His length hit against the most dangerous of angles inside of you, sending shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. The twinge of pain you’d felt at the initial stretch had quickly subsided as you began to bounce on top of him and was replaced by a blinding blood rush to your head. You felt dizzy, only it was in the best way possible.

With each brush against his skin, your clit was stimulated, forcing you to let out a sigh each time. He poured every inch of his soul into yours with every breath he took, watching you like a lifetime of his memories and future all at once, worshipping at your altar of your goddess. He’d serve you, he’d obey, he’d care for you, if you allowed him.

You let out a loud cry as his hips jolted from the bed, pressing against your cervix in a sudden pain, though it soon dissipated, soothing into sparks of pleasure. He forced his weight off of the bed in time with you, encased to the hilt of his cock in your soft pussy. And with every meeting of your hips, the warmth in your belly loosened, allowing you to steal bursts of pleasure for your body. Heat throbbed over your body and your heart pounded, you were so close.

And then it stopped. Theo pulled you off of him with a firm grip, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He looked almost feral as you frowned up at him as he took his place above you. Without wasting a second, his lips were on you, trailing over your chest and sucking your nipples into his mouth.

His hand lowered down to where you needed him the most, guiding his painfully hard dick into your tight entrance, sighing as you squeezed him to nicely. The softness of his hair on your sternum, the kindness of his hands and the noises he made, it was all taking its toll on you. You were surrounded by him, his arms encasing you, the warmth from his body still on the sheets that you rested against, his dick inside of you. He was everything in that moment.

The slapping of skin filled the air as he drove his hips harder and faster with each pull of your charm. He let out a choked sigh as he pounded into you, chasing his high more desperately than he ever had. His constant motion made you clench around him, feeling your orgasm creep up through your spine.

“Theo!” You gasped, and he responded with a pitiful whimper. He’d dreamed about the way that you’d cry his name, about this very situation. It was feeling so real, so much. He couldn’t help but be dragged closer to the edge.

He buried his hot face into your hair, moaning with each thrust of his hips, his feet pushing against the sheets to look for any way to sink deeper into you.

Your body erupted with the winding of warmth and unbearable pleasure. Your orgasm washed over you like a tide as Theo’s body met your own. You tensed and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, your thighs shook from where they were wrapped around his hips and your hand clawed at his scalp like you could pull yourself up from the fire of hell. But nothing felt better than the flames licking at your skin.

He couldn’t help but feel bus eyes water with tears as he so desperately wanted to scream. His climax hit him like a brick straight to the face, so much that he could hardly feel his own body. He tried to cry out, but it was as though you had complete control over his body as you shared your pleasure like treasured goods.

You felt him still, pushing into you as much as he could. That was when you felt him spill into you, a kind of warmth pouring into you, you realised that he’d just come inside of you, not that you minded. His skin was moist as he slipped his weight on top of you, and every inch of you was now touching him. You could get used to it.

You wondered if his nightly visits would escalate to this in the future. You certainly hoped so.

pt.1

#harry potter #harry potter fic #theodore nott #sub! theo nott #theodore nott one shot #theo nott one shot #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #switch!theo nott #smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x you

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httpiastri · 3 months

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18+ content, minors dni

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it's as if out of habit that one of your hands reaches down between your legs, pointer finger meeting your clit drawing out a low sigh from you. lando's too slow, you think – he's been working on undoing his belt and jeans for far too long now, so it's his own fault anyway. plus, he's been edging you on for what feels like years, fingering you and lapping you up but pulling away just before can come undone. you deserve some kind of release.

you knew you shouldn't have teased him tonight. you know how insecure he is when it comes to you flirting with his friends, especially oscar, and you know how jealous it makes him. and still, you just couldn't help it. the look on lando's face when oscar's hand grazed your thigh was almost too good to be true. but when you do something like this, you also have to take your punishment like a big girl.

do you understand it? yes. will you do it willingly without any complaints? most certainly not.

your boyfriend's eyes land on you when he has discarded his pants, and his hand immediately swoops down to grab your wrist, pulling it away from you. a dismissive 'nuh-uh' sound vibrates from the back of his throat, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. "patience, love."

you whine, the desperate look on your face making lando grin. "you're so mean to me," you mutter, shutting your eyes as if not seeing him will make time pass quicker and help you feel less needy.

but his trademark laughter meets your ears, and it doesn't make things any easier for you. it's a reminder of him, of everything you love about him, and of how much you want him – how much you need him. "oh, you think this is being mean?" he scoffs, a hand reaching for your bare side. "sweetheart, you haven't seen anything yet."

your breath hitches in your throat when his bulge presses against you, boxers already wet with his precum leaking onto them. he grinds up and down your cunt, your slick staining the fabric even further. it's too much already; you're far too sensitive to deal with this. "p-please-" you whine, buckling your hips to get more friction.

"what do you want, love?" a new, incoherent whine slips past your lips, and lando answers with a chuckle. "use your words."

"take... take them off..."

he leans back, and you instantly miss the contact. but then you hear him shuffle around a little and feel the mattress dipping. "as you wish."

you suck in a breath when you feel his touch again, the anticipation in your stomach growing as his tip drags along your folds. and when he pushes the tip right past your entrance, relief washes over you – finally, after so much teasing, you'll get what you wanted.

or, that's what you thought.

lando doesn't go any further. he pushes just a few centimeters into you before sliding right out again. then he repeats his actions yet again.

he's not being fair.

"lando," you cry out, throwing your head back and arching your chest off the mattress. he doesn't answer, too absorbed in the view before him. and to think that he's the only one who gets to see you like this: whiny, needy, helpless. he thinks he's the luckiest man in the world.

he takes the opportunity right as he's presented with it; with the way your neck is exposed like that, how could he not lean down and press his lips to it?

his kisses are sloppy and slow, traveling down your throat and along your collarbones, leaving little lovebites in their wake. you hook an arm around his neck to keep him close and you begin to grind down on him, hoping he'll give in. but he just pulls his own hips back, pulling away from you instead of meeting your thrusts.

"i know i was wrong," you finally get out. "i shouldn't have flirted with him. but don't you think i've been punished enough already?"

he laughs yet again, and the sweet sound irritates you just as much as it turns you on. "hey," he says, pressing one last kiss to the side of your neck. "i want you to look into my eyes as i thrust into you, okay?" he pauses for a second, his breath warm against your throat. "can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

it takes all of the energy in your body for you to nod, before letting your eyes flutter open slowly. your gaze meets his instantly, and it satisfies him completely. you batting your innocent eyes up at him has always worked; you always get what you want.

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endlessthxxghts · 5 months

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Use Me

No outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈1.2k

Summary: You tell Joel he can use you in an unconventional way. Will he take you up on your offer?

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader besides clothing. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Somnophilia. P in V sex (unprotected). Creampie. Finger fucking. Sweet aftercare. A moment of insecure Joel, but you comfort him.

A/N: Literally no motive behind this drabble besides the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Joel (more than normal LOLL) in the past 24 hours. So, enjoy my delulus. Also… this Joel is one with no outbreak…but for this particular scenario, I’m picturing him physically as post-outbreak…do with that what you will.🥴🥴🥴

MASTERLIST

Joel’s coffee nearly spilled through his nose with how off guard your question caught him. “You want me to what?”

“Well, I’m not saying like every night or something, I’m just saying. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, hard and wanting, you can…” your gaze breaks from his. “You can use me.”

Joel usually doesn’t have middle-of-the-night erections that wake him up and force him to take care of the issue immediately. However, with your suggestion being a lingering thought in the back of his mind all damn day, he finds himself, in the middle of the night, hard and wanting.

Your usual sleep attire is a tiny shirt with no bottoms below, and tonight, lying on your stomach with your ass to the air, you’re looking particularly tempting with the way his cock pulses when his eyes meet your glistening cunt.

“Always so fuckin’ ready for me, ain’t ya?” He groans to himself, debating whether or not he’s actually going to take you up on your offer.

But just like the unintentional ironic little fox you are, you roll your hips and let out a little whimper as you go, your pussy on full display to him, even wetter than mere moments ago.

He sits up on his haunches, walking on his knees to settle himself behind you. He brings his fingers to your slick entrance, running along the entire seam and to your clit. He circles it a few times. Your hips twitch in response, a breathy sigh leaving your throat.

“Fuck,” he rasps. He removes his now wet fingers from your entrance to rub it all over his cock, pumping himself a few times before he scoots slightly closer to you and lines himself up.

He runs the head of his cock through your slick this time. His tip catches on your clit and pulls another moan out of you. You’re stirring now, but you’re not completely awake yet.

Unable to tease himself much longer, he grabs onto your hips and sinks into you in one sweet thrust, your warm, tight pussy pulling him faster to the finish line than he was anticipating.

You let out a moaning gasp — you’re definitely awake now — followed by an already blissed out call of his name. “Oh, fuck,” you cry, your hands curling its grip into the bedsheets below.

“Shit,” Joel moans, his hips fucking into you harder now but maintaining a steady pace. “This what you wanted, girl?” He grunts. “Wanted me to fuck this sweet pussy whenever I fuckin’ wanted?”

“Ohmygod,” you rush out in a near yell, “yes, Joel, yes! Just like that, baby, fuck-”

“So fuckin’ good to me, sweet girl, ohhh fuck-” he moans, his hips faltering in its rhythm. His hand moves around your waist and to the front of you, the pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it — just the right amount of pressure to get you to your finish line before him.

You’re a babbling mess at this point — his name mixed with expletives the only vocabulary he’s reduced you down to. “‘M close,” you’re able to utter out.

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He bends his body over you, his lips near your ear as he damn near snarls, “Soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, let me feel you.”

His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, but the desperations of his thrusts increase, harder with every pump. He bites down on your shoulder, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t finish before you, and the radiating pain and pleasure from the pressure sends you roaring to your climax — the room filled with nothing but the wet squelches of your slick and your high-pitched moans, loud enough to wake the neighbors.

Your sweet sounds sends him into a frenzy, his eyes rolling back at the way he’s literally slipping in and out of you now. “Gonna cum, baby?” you whine at him, nearing overstimulation but truly not wanting him to stop.

“So fuckin’ close, baby,” he tells you, he’s back up on his haunches, both his hands back at your waist, chasing his own impending orgasm.

You muster up some strength and lift your ass up to meet his hips, your back arching like a cat in the sun. You give him some pushback, meeting his every thrust as you make it a point to squeeze him each time.

“Atta girl, fuck-” he takes a shuddered breath, “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum, where do ya want it?” he grits out.

“Inside!” you blurt out, all your inhibitions and logical thinking gone from your brain as he fucks you into oblivion. “Inside me, please, baby, please, love feeling you inside of me- love having you drip out of me just for you to stuff it back inside-” you’re cut off mid ramble with a gasp, you feel his cock pulse as his warm release paints your walls, a rugged groan from Joel filling the air.

“Goddamn, baby,” Joel utters as he catches his breath, slipping out of you, but not going anywhere just yet. He watches your filled cunt, and in moments, his hot cum is leaking from your hole — his cock tries to jump at the sight of it. He takes his fingers, scoops up the residue, and pushes it back into your hole, fucking you slow with his fingers for a moment as your breathing picks back up, moans threatening to escape as your hips squirm against him.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he tells you. He helps flip you on your back, leaning down to kiss your tummy as he slips away for a few moments and returns with a warm cloth to clean you up.

He’s gentle with it, thoroughly wiping the outer areas while patting the more sensitive areas clean. You still whimper at the feeling, more so because having him touch you down there sends butterflies fluttering all throughout your body. “I got ya, darlin’,” he soothes.

“I know you do, baby,” you say as you reach your hand out for his face. He tosses the cloth into the hamper in the corner of the room as he leans into your hold. You pull him in for a sweet, lengthy kiss, your tongues tangling as Joel finds himself wrapped around you once more tonight.

You’re dozing off again when you feel Joel’s voice vibrate your chest. “Say that again, baby?” you mumble sleepily.

“Was this…was this okay?” he asks softly, sleep filling his voice but too much concern lacing it to allow himself to submit to his fatigue.

You grab his face again, lifting your head to meet his lips.

“It was perfect,” you smile at him. “Now go to bed, so I can wake you up in the morning.”

He gives you a smirk that heats your cheeks. “Goodnight, darlin’,” he mutters as his head rests on your chest again, dozing immediately.

My current brain capacity is telling me that I want to write, but I can't deal with really big storylines right now.. so. A bunch of stories on the shorter side it is - at least, for the time being🥰 I love you all, and thank you for the endless support. Also !!! Gif above is courtesy of @/nicolethered

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether! Xo

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon waking up in the middle of the night horny and unable to get back to sleep. There's only one thing he wants to fix it.

The room is doused in darkness when Simon stirs awake, an ache situating itself in his chest that only grows the more he comes into consciousness. There is a flush in his cheeks, a heat in his face that he can sense now; the beginning signs of something visceral happening in his body that cannot be stopped. It's very late, too late to be awake, yet the longer he lays there the more his thoughts keep him from drifting back off.

Sleep has caused you both to separate and find yourselves on opposite sides of the bed, but that gnawing feeling in his abdomen pushes him to close the distance between your bodies. Turning back over to face you, he moves through the cover to wrap his strong arms around your middle and pull himself up against you until his warm, bare chest rests as your back. United once again, his nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, broad chest molding perfectly into the curve of your spine.

He hopes that maybe a little touch will sate him enough to fall back asleep, but it only makes the hunger worse. The blood begins to rush like liquid fire through his veins along with an overwhelming sense of anticipation: hot, invigorating energy coursing into his limbs that causes his mind to go hazy as he craves more contact.

Movements are subtle at first, drawing you out of your dreams and gently back into being consciousness of the room as Simon stirs against your back, pressing himself tightly up to you until you mimic puzzle pieces with how your bodies fit together. You can feel the bulky contours of his chest through your tank top, the hair covering the surface lightly tickling the skin exposed along your shoulder blades between the straps as warm breath from his nose tingles across your shoulder and down your back.

Still drunk on sleep it takes you a minute to feel a stiffening, throbbing bulge pressing into your butt cheek through his boxers as the sensation of exploring hands finding their way underneath and inside your tank top numbs your already thoughtless mind. Roaming the curves of your hips and torso up towards your chest, delicate touches from calloused hands become more intentional by the second as soft, silky skin tantalizes his rough fingertips.

Lips pepper themselves along your shoulder, quick, staccato kisses hot and sleepily sweeping over the curve of your neck as far as he can go. His lips leave burning trails along your flesh wherever they find themselves pressed until you tingle with a growing euphoric passion that urges you to seek more. Steamy breath hits your earlobe as that husky, gruff voice of his, more raspy and thickly accented from just waking up, breaks the silence.

"Can't sleep," he groans in a desperate whisper into your ear. “Need ya somethin’ fuckin’ fierce, sweet girl. Gotta come or I ain't gettin’ anymore rest tonight.”

Slowly he slides the arm on top of your hip palm side down over your abdomen and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties so that he can enter them and slip down the font. You are positioned on your side, your leg hiked up towards your chest so he can easily get between your legs. As fingers slip further down and into the space between your thighs, his breathing becomes more strained, hitching as he gets that first taste of the heat that waits for him.

You adjust yourself in his grasp, pressing your butt up into him as his hand lingers against your inner thigh for only a moment. Your reciprocation only enhances his desire, positive nervous energy coursing through his limbs as he presses a burning palm up into the mound of your sex. Your body squirms at the sensitivity of that first contact as his hand applies pressure.

He inhales sharply through his teeth; he is losing it fast. “You’re so fuckin’ warm; so warm and soft. Fuck sweetheart, ya feel so goddamn good."

Gently, a finger splits you open to dive inside and up against that pleasure center as the top of your sex, drowsy whimpers and whines from your lips begin to fill his ears while he starts to draw soft circles over your clit. Careful, easy caresses he uses, nothing too hasty even with his gnawing desire eating away at him the more he gets a feel of all that ecstasy between your legs; soon enough he will be diving into all that goodness.

His mouth makes its way back to your shoulder, occasionally embracing the skin until your body trembles against his lips from the pleasure the more you melt into him. Words fail you as you can only focus on how good his fingers feel, relaxing your body with a few simple strokes while you still hover between sleep and awake. He feels like a goddamn dream, ecstasy in every single stroke to ease you into a tantalizing calm.

Faint, gratifying moans punctuate the silence of the night and send excited shivers down his spine. He wants to touch himself, but is satisfied enough to touch you while he lets the friction of his body grind his crotch into your side to take him further. “Goddamn, ya make me feel good. Do I make ya feel good, baby?” he asks breathlessly; he craves your music, but wants your desperate words most of all.

Simon’s hand presses up harder into you, pushing you to answer him. You wriggle as you shake your head up and down. “Yes,” you mewl, a pronounced ache in your tone.

You invite him to move in further as you spread your legs open wider so that he can access your core and with two fingers he pushes them inside. Instantly he is met by the slick wetness that envelopes his fingers as the walls of your pussy close around them to suck them in.

“Such a pretty girl wrapped ‘round my fingers,” he purrs, as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, thrusting those longer digits in and out of you to the beat of his heart as you begin to rock on his hand. “Ya always look so good with any part of me buried in ya.”

His arm that is situated underneath you is still in your shirt and crawls to your chest to cup a breast against his palm, kneading all the beautifully plush tissue that fills it. Massaging all that fullness in his hand you lean into the feeling, but your tank top is a bit too restrictive, not allowing full ease of access, and so off it must go. Simon helps you wiggle out of it and discard it somewhere in the confines of the bed as his fingers stay resting inside of you until you can lay back down. The cool air outside of the covers sends a chill down your spine, though it doesn’t last as he is immediately pulling you back underneath and up against him again in that spooning position once more.

Your eyes flutter shut as you embrace the pleasure as your hazy mind is only full of thoughts of him. “You always do this to me, make me a mess,” you say breathlessly as he gets right back to work.

In and out, in and out his fingers glide up into you as the dampness grows and leaks out of your entrance the longer he goes. Your body responds to him just as if it was designed to do so and soon you are a puddle in his capable hands. The more wet you get, the more his mind races; that urge that caused him to wake up reaching its peak. He needs to have you, needs to feel himself inside you, and with each pump of his fingers that need grows.

“Gettin’ fuckin’ desperate sweetheart, can't stop this ache till I have ya,” he groans at the edge of your ear before taking the tender flesh of your earlobe into his mouth to nibble at. “Do ya feel how fuckin’ hard I am? Goddammit, I need to be inside ya. Are ya ready for me?”

A muted hum of approval escapes your mouth; he’s gotten you close enough. “Please god, put in,” you agree between quick breaths. “I-I don’t wanna wait any longer.”

Simon is tugging down his boxers before you can even finish your sentence, his cock springing to attention now that it is free of its cage and pulsing wildly with his increasing heart rate. You go to roll over and face him, but he places his hand on your thigh to stop you from turning. He wants to fuck you like this, back to chest, spooning you in his arms.

“That’s it, keep your leg up just like that. Wanna hold ya while I make the both of us feel fuckin’ amazin’."

Oh, you have no doubt about that.

Keeping your hips forward and pulling them back he holds the base of his cock in his hand as he aligns it with your entrance, pressing the tip against the hole and adding his arousal to yours to coat you in even more lubrication. You can feel how hard it is, just waiting to pierce up into that tight, warm hole in your pussy.

One arm wrapped around your middle holds you to him while his opposite hand grips into your ass cheek as he pushes against your top hip to keep you spread until he can carefully thrust inside. He only gets the tip in before he has to pause as the sudden restriction around his phallus has his body quivering and you gasping as he stretches you wide.

“So tight, so f-fuckin’ tight,” he bites back a moan as his voice wavers. “God, you’re fuckin’ heaven, luv.”

A few deep breaths to calm himself and Simon thrusts again, this time pushing himself all the way inside right down to the base. Goddamn, the bellow of a moan that ripped through his chest vibrated throughout his entire body, his toes curling at all the overwhelming sensation of his cock smothering inside you, your walls clenching around him as your body desperately fights to accommodate being so full.

“How the fuck am I not supposed to be obsessed with ya,” he whispers in a shudder, closing his eyes and bracing himself to become more calm before moving again.

His thrusts are easy at first, but still forceful, shoving his thick, veiny cock as far into you as he can get. Hips rolling, back arching parallel to the mattress, he picks a steady rhythm and sticks to it while taking on the brunt of the work as it was his craving for your ecstasy that got you both here in the first place.

Every movement of his cock at this angle engages that sweet spot inside as wet, slapping sounds become more audible the more soaked you get, punctuated by his strained grunts with each time he slams into your pussy. The pressure feels divine, almost too good; mix that with the sinful beauty in your sounds and soon he’s being swept up in it all so that his mind goes numb.

What starts as slow quickly picks up speed as more feral desires flood to the surface, leaving him at the mercy of his need. His pace is now intense, pounding into you with ferocity to make the bed shake beneath your bodies. The muscular arm that lays underneath you moves up to cradle your neck as it stretches across your chest to cup your breast. Again he kneads it more roughly this time, teasing the nipple with his fingertips as he rubs circles over it before taking it between his fingers to pinch at the tender flesh and make your body writhe with the extra stimulation.

Rotating your upper body at an angle, you now face him and immediately his lips are on yours, capturing them in sloppy, heated kisses that steal the oxygen straight from your lungs making you gulp in air in short bursts whenever your mouths break free, which isn’t for long. You are completely overtaken by his entire form as he steals kiss after aggressive kiss until your lips are raw and stinging.

Sweat gathers along your brow, tiny pinpricks of perspiration as he pushes you to your limit. At your back you can feel his abdominal muscles clenching tight with each plunge of his cock inside. You want more. Reaching down the front of your body, you find your clit and begin to rub circles around the nub. Simon catches the movement from the corner of his eye and breaks from your mouth.

“My job,” he struggles to speak as he rips your hand away from your pussy and replaces it with his own.

Christ, you are on fire, grinding against his fingers as his cock fills your cunt from behind. “Yes, y-yes,” you choke out, eyes slamming shut as the multiple forms of stimulation drive you insane; every single brush of air upon your skin, each movement of his body against your own, each tug and grip and rub leaves only more pleasure in its wake.

“That’s it, sweet girl, ride me, ride me,” he grunts desperately. “Fuck, I’m almost there.”

You were just as close, that gathering hot tension in your stomach ready to shoot off at any second. The slick begins to dribble down your thighs and onto the sheets, covering your skin in that warm, sticky liquid. Simon feels it too and the taste buds on his tongue light up as he thinks about all that sweetness coating the both of you. Even harder and faster his frenzied pace drills his cock into you relentlessly as those thoughts fill his mind and make him ravenous for all parts of your beautiful body.

He’s about to blow. “Be a good girl and come for me-yeah?” he practically begs, wanting to feel himself come undone by your orgasm. “Let go, that’s it.”

All of a sudden you go silent as the string finally snaps and over the edge you fall with just a few more thrusts inside your dripping hole. Shit you are seeing stars as your toes curl and you cry out with a whimper that has him rocketing over the edge as your engorged walls clench around him.

“Fuck!” groans loud and forceful as his arms wrap around you tight, holding you to his chest so hard you can barely breathe. His hips continue to pound into you as he milks himself dry, grinding against your ass until he has nothing left to give. Body shuddering as all his urges drain from his mind he falls back onto the mattress to breathe through the high as you roll over to lay against him.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, but once his breathing is under control he leans down to press more delicate kisses to your lips this time. “Sorry I woke ya up,” he apologizes, though it hardly sounds like he is remorseful at all. “Seems I just can’t help myself when it comes to ya.”

You chuckle softly. “I’ve noticed.”

Simon smiles back at you, hand cupping your face so that he can rub his thumb gently over your flushed cheek. “Can ya blame me when I have such a sweet thing right at my fingertips? Who wouldn’t get a midnight craving?”

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redr0sewrites · 2 months

Text

Being Good (sub!Lucifer smut)

the sub luci smut won the poll- ask and ye shall receive!!!! i aim to please. i desperately need more dom reader asks like omfg

🥀Cw: smut, sub lucifer, dirty talk, degrading and praise, marking, overstim, begging, reader gives him a handjob

🥀minors dni

"ple- pleanghhh... please, s'too much.." lucifer sobbed, fat, shimmering tears streaming down his puffy cheeks. you pull away from his neck, nipping at the hickey left in your wake. "aw, this is what you wanted, isn't it luci? you begged for me to fuck you, you acted like a damn brat all day, and now its too much?" you sneer, stroking his cock as he squirms beneath you. it was true, he had been practically begging for your attention all day, from teasing you in bed this morning, to coming into your office to ride your thigh, to touching himself without permission. he had pulled all the stops in a desperate attempt to get you to fuck him, and it had worked. except now, you were pissed.

his thighs tremble at each stroke of his over sensitive dick, and his hips hump up against your hand despite himself. "aw, i thought you wanted me to stop? how many times have you come, luci?" you grab his face, forcing him to look at you, eyes teary from pleasure. "mngh, please-" he hiccuped, and you slap his thigh, causing him to yelp. "i asked you a question," you murmur, trailing his hand from his face to slowly wrap around his neck. in truth, he had already come 5 times, and every time you asked him that question, he was always just too fucked out to reply. lucifer was practically insatiable- begging for you to stop, yet crying when you did. he was apparently too far into subspace to answer such a simple question, yet conscious enough to argue with you. he just couldn't help himself, you just made him feel so good! your free hand slowly pumped the base of his aching cock, coated in his past release as precum already pearled at the tip. "i- please, mmngg-" you watched as he babbled, struggling to form a coherent sentence as his mind glazed over. "don't you wanna be good for me, luci? don't tell me you can't answer, now, how many times have you cum for me?" you lean in to suck another dark mark on his neck and he yelps, watching as you pull away to witness yet another hickey bloom on his pale skin.

lucifer whined, his nails digging into your back as you held his throat firmly. "please, 'msorry, please.." he mewls, a few more whiny moans slipping past his lips as you sighed in disappointment. "what a shame," you purr, stroking him faster as shameful sobs and whimpers fill the room. his hips grind upwards, desperately thrusting against your hand as he mewls and moans. "m'close! pleasepleaseplease-" lucifer wails, eyes rolling back as his body shivers in anticipation. however, just as he reached the brink of pleasure you oull your hand away, smirking as he lets out an undignified sob. lucifer whines, hips still jerking upwards as he thrusts up into nothing, still so, so close to the edge.

he bucks and sobs, desperate for any sort of friction as his oncoming orgasm dies. "i- 'said 'msorry!" lucifer whines, clamping his legs together and looking up at you with watery eyes. "i wanna be good, please lemme be good f'you," he slurred, gasping as the hand on his neck travels down to his chest. resting your palm over his heart, you lean in to kiss him sloppily. lucifer opens his mouth as you slip your tongue in with ease, exploring the cavern of his mouth as he whines beneath you. his breath hitches as your tongue clashes with his, hot breath fanning against your lips as he whines and moans. suddenly, you pull away, using the hand on his chest to push him back against the bed. he looks up at you with wide eyes, his golden hair tussled and messy against the satin pillows beneath him.

"you wanna be good for me? awww, how sweet," you croon, moving one hand to spread apart his thighs and the other to wrap around the base of his cock. lucifer gasps as you begin to move, slowly but surely pumping his dick at a delicious pace. breathy moans turn to whines as you pick up the pace, the coil in his stomach already tightening from the mix of overstimulation and edging. "please," he murmured, eyes glazed with list. "please master, lemme be good... all f'you..." you chuckle as he slips deeper into submission, mewling and whimpering incoherent nonsense as you bring him closer and closer to the edge. "you wanna cum, baby?" you coo, and he nods fervently, babbling sweet nothings as tears trickle down his cheeks, soaking into his skin. you pick up the pace yet again, and his eyes roll back as his cock twitches in your hand. the cum from his previous orgasms acting as lube, you speed up as you stroke him off. "go ahead duckie, you can cum," you whisper, kissing over the hickies on his neck.

you're reassurance is all he needs as the coil in his abdomen snaps, and lucifer comes hard and fast. spraying the both of you, he bucks his hips yet again, sobbing from overstimulation as he clings to you. as he comes down from his high, you press gentle kisses to his forehead and cheeks, licking away the salty tears. "shh, shh, i know luci," you coo, rubbing circles on his back as he quivers. "you did so well for me, you did so, so good duckie," you accentuate each word with a gentle kiss, and his breathing begins to slow. "was i good..?" he murmurs, turning to nuzzle into your neck. "the best," you giggle, and press a soft kiss to his hair. "now, lets get you cleaned up, okay?" lucifer sighed, nuzzling against you and inhaling your scent. "mkay... but..." you pause, waiting for his reply. "can we stay like this? just for a lil'?" lucifer whispers, melting into your embrace as you pull him impossibly close. "of course," you sigh, gently rubbing his back as he began to doze peacefully in your arms. cleaning up can wait, as long as the two of you are together, nothing could ever ruin that.

🥀

RAHHHHHHHHH SUB LUCI SMUT!!!! GUYS PLEEEEEAAASE SEND IN MORE SUB REQUESTS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL I AM BEGGING ON MY KNEES THEYRE ALL SO SUBBY ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY pls send sub vox

931 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 3 months

Note

Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing

Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.

i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹

word count - 4.4k

in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.

You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.

You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.

The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.

It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.

Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.

As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.

From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.

Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.

You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.

A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.

The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.

With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.

In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.

However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.

Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.

The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.

You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.

On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.

Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.

Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.

"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.

Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.

Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.

Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."

Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.

Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.

Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.

"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.

Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.

"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.

"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.

The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.

It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.

Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.

His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.

On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.

The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.

Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.

Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.

Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.

Jeff:

H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!

As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.

The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.

The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.

The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.

The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.

"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.

Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.

As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.

With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.

"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.

The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.

Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."

The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.

Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.

The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.

You so badly just wanted him in your arms.

Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.

The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.

As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.

Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.

His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.

His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.

Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.

"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.

As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.

The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.

In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.

"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.

“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.

"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."

Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"

“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”

“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”

“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.

In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.

Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"

He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."

Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"

You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”

The wine….not so much.

/ /

As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.

Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.

Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.

The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.

The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.

Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.

After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.

"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.

Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.

Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.

As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.

As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.

"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.

Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.

"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,

"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.

Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.

Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.

"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.

You.

Wait what?

As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.

"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.

Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.

"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.

Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"

You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.

"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."

Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"

He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.

The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"

You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,

"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"

With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.

"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."

Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."

The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.

"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."

Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.

"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."

The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.

"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.

Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."

/ /

As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.

The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.

The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.

Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.

The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.

Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.

"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.

Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.

Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.

The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.

"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.

In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.

"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.

Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.

His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.

"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"

You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.

"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.

Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.

A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.

The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”

You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.

“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”

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prize-pig-collection · 9 months

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I can’t wait for the day that you realize this has finally gone too far

After yet another long night of being stretched out past your limits, you wake up and attempt to roll over, or even sit up.

Except you can’t.

No matter how desperately you try, you barely move. Even though you’re sweating and wheezing like you just ran a marathon. There’s been a small part of you that knew this day would come, even as you gobbled up millions of calories over the years, and finally here it is. You’ve turned yourself into a helpless blob.

Just as you begin to realize you’ll never get out of bed again without a team of people and some special machinery, I’ll wheel in a cart piled high with pancakes, waffles, French toast, donuts… eggs, bacon, sausage, ham… all swimming in a sea of grease and maple syrup.

Of course, as soon as you see the food, you forget about your little predicament, and start drooling uncontrollably as you anticipate shoveling all of that delicious greasy junk down your throat, barely bothering to chew. It’s not like you got this far by accident, after all.

#extreme obesity #immobility #inspiration for piggies

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mrsshabana · 7 months

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"𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲"

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔: 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro has never seen such a breedable looking human before. Something comes over him and he can't control his urges. The only thing he can think about is filling you up, and he won't be satisfied until he's done just that. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, rough sex, breeding, mentions of pregnancy. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.4k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist ✧:･ﾟ→ Part two

He doesn’t know what came over him.

Being a demon for so long you’d think he’d be used to having strong instinctual urges, but nothing like this. Not like the urges he felt when he saw you for the first time. Something just came over him.

Never before had he seen a human that looked so breedable. The moment he saw you, his cock hardened and the only thing he could think about was filling you with his seed. Maybe it was the way your hips swayed when you walked. Or perhaps how soft your thighs looked, seemingly perfect for him to be between. Everything about you enticed him and made his hormones rage.

Gyutaro acted on impulse, no longer thinking with his brain but with the throbbing between his legs. He took you for himself before you could even realize what was going on. Quickly knocking you unconscious before you could make too much of a fuss.

You wake up in an unfamiliar place, lying on a fairly neat futon. The room is dark and dusty, like it hadn’t been touched in years. Feeling safe at first until you feel a hungry gaze from across the room. Yellow eyes stare back at you, slowly coming closer until you see an inhuman form come out of the shadows. A tall man with a muscular yet simultaneously emaciated frame. Long black hair that fades to green and sloppily hangs in front of his face. Skin decorated with pretty black marks that scatter across his face and body.

“You’re awake,” he rasps. His words are slow and hesitant. His voice shakes with anticipation.

“Wh-who are you?” you whimper, voice filled with fear and confusion.

He licks his lips and comes even closer, climbing on top of you and gently nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he smells your sweet fertile scent.

“Gyutaro,” he whispers, drawing out his name.

Your heart beats faster as he lowers his body onto you, kissing and nipping your neck as he desperately humps the futon between your legs. His hot breath tickles your neck as he pants. He wants you so fucking bad. “P-please…” he whines, “want you so bad.” He continues to rub his clothed erection on the futon, too needy for some sense of relief that he can’t help himself.

You try to stay calm but you can’t control the panicked feeling you feel rising inside of you. This terrifying demon is so close to you, he could tear you apart at any moment. But yet here he is, seemingly completely at your mercy. Painfully horny and suffering until you give him permission to fuck you. Having such power over such a dangerous creature is kind of a turn on for you.

He’s strong enough to have just taken what he wants from you, but here he is groveling before you. Are those tears you see forming in his eyes? You start to feel bad for him. And besides, it’s not like you're in a position to deny him. If you did, you fear what he may decide to do with you. So, from a combination of pity and fear, you agree. “It’s ok Gyu-Gyutaro,” you coo and cup his cheek, “you can fuck me.”

As soon as you give him permission he’s ripping your clothes off, literally tearing them off of your body with his hands and teeth. “Look so fuckin’ breedable,” he groans as he removes his pants. His throbbing cock springing out. Large, veiny, and covered in black spots like the ones on his face. His tip is sticky, leaking copious amounts of precum that has already smeared all over his shaft. How long has he been sitting there waiting for you to wake up? Must have been a while judging by the wet spot in his pants and the string of slimy liquid that sticks to him as he slides off his pants.

He grabs your thighs and holds them up, moving his face down to your exposed pussy. Wasting no time, he starts sliding his tongue between your folds. He can smell that you’re ovulating, groaning as he inhales the addicting scent that makes his cock twitch. He’s encountered ovulating humans numerous times before, but never has it had this effect on him. Making him completely feral and needy to be inside of you.

His nails dig into your thighs as he pushes his tongue inside of you, sharp teeth pressed against your lips while his nose is against your clit. God, he swears could get lost in your perfect cunt. Your slick tastes like a delicacy to him, eating you like he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

“Ah~ Gyutaro~” you moan.

“F-fuck,” he groans, pulling his face away from your pussy and wiping his lips with his hand. “Gonna stuff you full.”

He leans back over you and strokes his cock a few times before positioning himself at your entrance. Pressing his sticky tip against you and slowly pushing himself inside. “Fuck fuck fuuuck,” he groans.

You spread your legs wider and hold onto his shoulders for support, feeling him fill you to the brim as he forces himself to go balls deep.

“S’tight so f-fuckin’ tight.” He can’t stop himself from fucking you senseless, giving you no time to adjust to him. He’ll apologize later, but right now he’s far too eager to fill you with his cum.

His thrusts are sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but once he finds a good rhythm he’s grabbing your thighs and putting you into a mating press. Getting as deep as he can into you, so deep that you can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. You’d be in more pain if you weren’t distracted by his cock continuously ramming into your sweet spot.

Gyutaro growls as he barely pulls himself out of you before thrusting back in again, even being an inch out of you is too painful for him. Not being completely suffocated by your warm, tight walls sounds like hell right now.

“Gonna put a fuckin’ baby in you,” he snarls, picking up the pace, “you’re gonna look so pretty with our baby in your belly.”

“W-wait!” You squeal, but before you can protest he’s slamming his hips into you with so much force that it knocks the air out of your lungs. You don’t want to have a baby with him but he’s fucking you so good right now that he’s starting to change your mind. No longer able to care as you get closer and closer to your climax.

The drag of his cock along your gummy walls and his tip ramming into your sweet spot is enough to bring you to orgasm quickly. Your eyes roll back and you shake beneath him as euphoria hits you. “Gyutaro!” you scream, your toes curling as you cum all over him. Your orgasm is only motivation for him to fuck you harder.

Sweat drips from his temple as he fucks you as hard as he can, your pussy puffy and swollen from the abuse he’s putting you through. All you can do is scream and gasp as he uses you.

You can tell he’s getting close when he clenches his teeth and veins begin to pop out all over his body. A deep growl rumbles in his chest as he spills inside of you. Pushing himself as deep as he can to ensure his seed fills your womb. You can feel the thickly hot liquid fill your insides, making you feel warm and fuzzy. He twitches and groans as he empties his load, shooting rope after rope until he’s been milked dry.

Gyutaro pants and moves your legs off of his shoulders before collapsing on top of you. Sweetly kissing your face and neck, all while staying inside of you. His cum slowly seeping out of you, dripping down your ass and his balls, onto the sheets.

He stays there for a moment before sliding out of you and spreading your legs, taking a good look at the mess he’s made. “Mm… your pussy looks so pretty stuffed with my cum,” he smirks and gathers whatever cum had seeped out of you on his fingers and shoves it back in. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

You moan and your legs shake when he puts his fingers inside of you, “G-Gyu…”

He gives you a toothy smile, “Don’t worry darling,” he says as he grabs your hips and flips you over on your stomach. You gasp when you feel him lay on top of you and slide himself back into your sloppy cunt.

“Gonna breed you all night.”

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro smut #gyuutarou #gyuutarou x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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creepling · 7 months

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sawyer/slaughter family using captured!reader for sex

tags: dead dove - read at your own risk. smut - MDNI. gn!reader. all family seperate. bondage. rough sex. petplay. underwear sniffing. somnophilia. cannibalism-ment. aftercare (only with bubba).

harddom!johnny being your capturer but liking everyone having his way with you. his possessive attitude dampening over time and your novelty wearing off. leaving you chained in random parts of the house and going on with his day, coming back to see you exhausted, ready to have his turn with you. hanging you in his shack by the wrists, littering your body with bite marks, bonding your limbs with rope, using you like a glorified piece of meat. fucking your holes until their raw, amused by your moans mixed with screams. fucking you dumb until he undoes your restraints, making you crawl on your knees, and face fuck you until he blows his load over your face.

softdom!nubbins playing with your holes while you sleep, holding in his giggles as you squirm in your slumber, awed at your wetness under his touch. dry humping your leg until you wake up, basking in your surprise until you succumb to him. prying your legs open to enter his hard, meek dick. rutting into you like a desperate puppy, his moans sounding like sobs. praising your body, thanking you for letting you fuck him, pleading that he is not worthy of your body. but he never slows his pace, slamming his hips rapidly until he cums, careless on where his load lands; dripping on your leg pathetically.

femdom!sissy treating you like a little pet, playing with your hair and adorning a leash around your neck. using you as a foot stool while she lounges around the house, snapping her fingers when she wants your attention. pinning you to the floor and fucking your tongue, riding your face as you gasp for air. pulling at the lead when you disobey, demanding you to be a good little kitty/doggie and lick her cunt. when you're good for her, she lets you sleep with her and ride her thigh, mewling over your whimpers, pleasuring you when you're too fucked out to think. only letting you cum when you beg for her.

perv!drayton never laying a finger on you, but goes down to clean your cell, cursing at the mess you leave. wishing you were never here and degrading your existence. you're better off being their next meal, but now he don't wanna eat you now you're the family's cum dump. without you looking, he steals your underwear for his own possession. taking it back to his room, inhaling your scent, cursing his old age for not getting it up and letting him have pleasure. his body unresponsive, but his mind wild with thoughts about you.

scene-dom!bubba the one you have to anticipate the most, brace your frail, sore body for his manhandling. he tries to be gentle, bubbling concern noises at your winces of pain. stroking your face, but his heavy hand rough on your skin. wearing his pretty woman mask and wanting you to match, sloppily apply makeup to your face, red lipstick smudged along the corner of your mouth. he cheers at his masterpiece, ready to fuck his pretty little thing, sheepishly revealing his fat dick. the sight of it intimidating, his heavy build engulfing you, his large girth stretching you out. his thrusts slow but heavy, pummelling his whole length inside you, bubbling at the way you tense around him. he gets overstimulated from the pleasure, his moans frantic. he finishes inside you, cockwarming until he goes limb, letting you lay on his lap with his arms around you, not wanting to let you go just yet and milking all the time he has with his little play toy.

#texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #johnny slaughter x reader #sissy slaughter x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #leatherface x reader #nubbins sawyer x reader #drayton sawyer x reader #tcm drabbles #creepling.brainrot

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starogeorgina · 22 days

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𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole × reader

Warnings: Swearing, oral sex, fingering, titty sucking

1.02

It had been days since you left your quarters, and the feeling of isolation and loneliness was plaguing you while you got over whatever sickness you had. You spoke to Rhaenyra previously, and she assured you nothing was going on between her and Ser Harwin, that she merely invited him to her chambers so they could speak privately since he caught her in a compromising position with one of her most recent lovers, Lady Laena Velaryon. Which explains why Daemon would implicate your sister; his ego was bruised and he was mad. Lady Laena hadn’t ended their affair because she had been betrothed to another; it’s because she wants to be with Rhaenyra instead.

Although her confession made you feel ashamed for even doubting her, which was another reason you sought isolation.

You hadn’t seen your own lover or husband in just over a month. Harwin had returned to Harrenhal with his father the morning after you confronted him about why he was at your sister's quarters, and since he was vague, the questioning turned into a heated argument. And your father, King Viserys, had sent Daemon on some errand, which meant him leaving the keep.

You hear a knock at your door, and before you can call for it to be opened, someone enters your chambers. You raise a brow, seeing it’s Ser Criston instead of one of your handmaids. You hadn’t exchanged a word with the knight since you left his bedchamber after sharing a brief sexual encounter.

“Princess,” he bows.

“Ser Cristion,” you say, picking up your cup of wine and sinking down onto one of the plush red chairs. “What can I do for you?”

The knight begins to ramble some weak excuse on why he visited your private quarters when he had no business being there. You shut out his words as you focus on his gaze. The hunger in his eyes has caught your attention, as has the way he soaks up your appearance. The black dress you chose in the morning hugged your curves in all the right places, especially your breasts.

Ser Cristion didn’t come because he wanted to talk to you; he came because he wanted to fuck you.

“What is it you desire, my good knight?”

Standing tall, his eyes meet yours. “To please you, princess, That night we spent together, I focused only on my own pleasure and not on yours. I wish to rectify that.”

You don’t answer right away, deliberately leaving him hanging. When he takes a sharp breath, preparing himself for whatever you would reply, you slowly spread your legs open and bunch up your skirts, revealing your bare chest to him. Criston was a handsome man; his personality was questionable considering he was nothing more than a hypocrite, but who were you to refuse such an offer?

“You may please me with your mouth, but that is all.”

For a split second, you think Criston is going to leave when he faces the door, but instead of leaving, he locks it and then returns his gaze to you. You finish your wine as he kneels in front of you. He kisses your thigh, then moves his attention to your core and lets out an animalistic groan. Your eyes stay glued to him as he sucks on your clit, and your fingers tangle into his dark hair, keeping his mouth where it feels best.

You desperately wished it was someone you loved pleasing you, but yet here you are squirming around the tongue of a man you didn’t even care for, acting like a depraved whore.

—

The hour was late, and the sudden dip in the bed causes you to stir. Groggily, you rub your eyes, “Daemon?”

“My apologies for waking you, my love; I know the hour is late,” he shuffles closer to you in the bed. His bare chest is pressing against your back. “I was away much longer than I anticipated, if I had known—”

“I love you, Daemon Targaryen,” you whisper.

He seems taken aback by your sudden admission, and guilt swirls in your stomach. You had important information to tell him, but now wasn’t the time. Not when you were both exhausted.

“I don't deserve you, my sweet wife,” he says, pressing his lips against your bare shoulder. “But I'm never leaving your side again.”

—

“I was merely training him on how to please a woman properly.”

When neither of you could find sleep, you had a jug of wine and a platter of fresh fruit brought to your quarters. You now sit curled beside Daemon on one of the plush couches.

“Hmm, perhaps he won’t be such an insufferable cunt,” Daemon smirks before sipping on his wine. He found it rather amusing that you let Cole lick your cunny, but nothing else. “So... did you enjoy him tasting your sweet little cunt?”

“Hmm, I prefer your mouth on me.”

He pulls the thin fabric of your nightgown down low enough for your breasts to be exposed to him. Droplets of wine still linger on Daemon's lips when he takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he sucks on your flesh.

You giggle. “I’ve definitely missed you.”

Daemon moves his hand along your thigh, feeling the softness of your well-pampered skin beneath his fingers, before he reaches your wet core and sinks two fingers deep into your cunny. “I’ve missed you and your insatiable appetite. You’ve really got the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt.”

You moan at his words.

Greedily, he sucks on your breast while tapping at your clit with his thumb and spreading up his actions of sliding two fingers into your soaking core until the coil in your stomach snaps and his fingers are coated in your slick.

Smiling, you lean forward and nuzzle into his neck, his arms wrapping around you. “Hmm, I’m glad you are home; you have a task of the utmost importance to attend to valzȳrys.”

He rests his cheek against the top of your head while running his fingers through your hair. “And what would that be, ābrazȳrys?”

“You're going to need to find the perfect dragon egg to go in the cradle.”

It takes him a minute to process what you’ve just told him, then he smiles widely. “You are with a child?”

You place one of his hands flat on your stomach and say, “Yes, my love, I’m with a child.”

—

You nod your head and smile at the lords and ladies congratulating you. It hadn’t taken long for word of your growing family to spread around the house. Your father was ecstatic and insisted on throwing a grand feast to celebrate, which Daemon agreed to help organize. Rhaenyra had gifted you with the finest silk dresses to accommodate a growing body and toys for the baby. And all of the attention you received was a favorable distraction from missing Harwin so much.

When you reach the doorway to the library, you tell the knight accompanying you that he doesn’t need to follow you since nobody else has access to it aside from the royal family. Spotting the book Daemon intended to read to you next, you reach out to take it, but your arm is suddenly snatched.

A small gasp escapes your lips. “Ser Criston?”

Cristion’s grip tightens around your arm as he pulls you further away from the doorway room. With a devilish glare in his eyes, he asks, “Are you with the child?"

“Get your hands off me.”

You have been so busy since finding out you're pregnant that you haven’t even spoken with the knight since the night he came to your quarters. An unintentional slight on your end.

“Let go of me, or I will scream.”

He looks down at your arm to see how tightly he’s squeezing it, and let's go. “Are you with a child?" He repeats. When you don’t answer him, he takes your silence as a yes. “How far along?”

“That is none of—”

“How far along?”

Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you sigh, “It’s been three moons since I last bled.”

His face falls.

“Criston…”

“Why?” he barks, and you immediately recoil. “Why did you need to drag me into whatever messed-up game you and the Prince are playing?”

“I will admit I made the first move that night, but you never turned me. And you are the one who tried to pursue me afterwards, so don’t play innocent.”

Cristion takes a step backwards, as though he's wrestling with something internally. He breathes angrily as his eyes move up and down, taking in the slightest swell in your stomach.

You clear your throat. “I know what you're thinking. That’s how long it’s been since we... Daemon knows.”

“And he doesn’t care?”

“No. He loves me, and he will love this child. His child.”

He remains silent as you brush by him. You were a fool for ever going to Criston that night, knowing how cruel he can be and how close he is to the queen. “I wonder how the king would feel if he heard his own precious princess wasn’t sure who the father of her child was.”

You laugh. “Why don’t you share that theory, Cole? I’m sure Prince Daemon would love to hear it.”

He glares at you.

“We all need to live with the consequences of our actions, and I have done things that I’m ashamed of, but if you ever utter a threat to me or my family again, nothing will be able to save you from the wrath of dragons. Do you understand?”

When Criston says nothing, you get the book for Daemon, and as you're leaving the library, you hear a muffled ‘spoiled cunt’ fall from the knight's lips.

—

Taking a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose. Of course, there was a very slim chance that Daemon wasn’t the biological father of your baby.

Entering your quarters, you immediately notice something feels different—a shift in energy. You call out, “Daemon?”

He appears within seconds, his expression hard to read. He kisses your cheek and says, “There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.”

“Who?”

“Try as you might, you cannot hide anything from me,” he says quietly. “I sent a raven asking for his return.”

Your lips part slightly as the question of who he wrote lingers on your lips, but in seconds you turn a corner and come face to face with Harwin. Your eyes swell with tears.

He stands at attention, “princess.”

“Harwin…”

Husband - Valzȳrys

Wife - Ābrazȳrys

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cumtastiics · 6 months

Note

Sadistic vampire lord kidnapping and turning his human bride (literally or just by role) into a vampire? Then caring for said bride when they wake up hungry.

YAN! SADISTIC! VAMPIRE LORD x FEM! READER

tw(s): kidnapping, yandere, bro is lowkey mean!!! a/n: ty for requesting! feel free to send more reqs!! (posted this late bc school!!!!1!!!!)

YOU NEVER THOUGHT THERE was anything wrong, or strange about him.

He even proposed to you.

He acted like a normal human.

You saw him, his skin had become ashen, his nails pointed and long. Yet, his eyes stayed the same. The same look he had when he first met you.

"You-" You stopped, unsure what to say, unsure of how to respond to him.

"I'm?"

"You're a monster," your voice was quiet when you spoke, almost a whisper. You felt your lips dry, your fingers cold, but your heart racing with fear.

He laughed, a cold and mirthless sound that made your skin crawl. "Yes, my dear," he said, tracing a finger over your cheek. "I suppose I am."

He revealed his fangs then, as if to underline the fact that there was nothing human left in him. "But you'll come to love me," he said, his eyes glinting with a cruel light. "I'll make sure of that."

You were frozen when his mouth came closer, your heart pounding in your chest. Your wide eyes locked onto his sharp fangs, glistening with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. The room felt suffocating as he leaned in, his breath icy against your skin.

"No," you managed to whisper, the single word filled with desperation and fear.

But he paid no heed to your pitiful plea. Instead, a sinister smile twisted his lips as he brushed his lips against the vulnerable curve of your neck. His touch was both chilling and electric, sending a wave of anticipation mixed with dread coursing through your veins.

As his fangs grazed your flesh, you felt an excruciating pain surge through your body. You gasped, a strangled cry escaping your lips, but the sound quickly faded into the air as darkness clouded your vision. It was as if your very life force was being drained from you, leaving you weak and helpless.

Your consciousness wavered, teetering on the edge as your body succumbed to the transformation that was taking place. In the midst of the agony, a strange sense of euphoria began to weave its way into your thoughts, blurring the line between pleasure and torment.

Everything around you became a blur of shadows and whispers, as if reality itself was warping under the weight of this dreadful transition.

Your last coherent thought before succumbing to unconsciousness was a desperate plea for freedom, for escape from the clutches of him.

"You're awake," he hummed, sitting next to you watching as you rubbed your eyes open.

You could hardly remember what happened before, your hand flying to touch your neckwhere he had bitten you. You felt the mark still there, a slight ache under your fingers. You looked up at him, at the monster who had turned you into a creature of the night.

"You're a vampire," you mumbled, glancing around the room in confusion. "And I am too?"

He nodded, an expression of intense pleasure on his face. "Yes, my darling. I have turned you into one too."

You didn't know what to say.

Yet you were hungry.

Thirsty almost.

"I'm hungry," you said simply, staring at him.

He folded the collar of his shirt, making his neck more accessible.

"Bite away."

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thesassypadawan · 2 months

Text

His Hoodie (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s too damn early… It’s too damn cold… Lucky for you though, Hayden left his hoodie behind today. The one that’s oh so warm and smells so deliciously of him.

Warnings: 18+, because there sooo much of the smut. Some self-indulgence, oral (fem receiving), and…Hayden’s skilled tongue and magic fingers.

- “Haaay, do you have to go?” You whine pitifully while wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket.

- You absolutely hate it when Hayden leaves early in the morning to go workout. First of all, because it’s so damn EARLY and, without fail, he accidentally wakes you up every time. Second, because you miss being cuddled up with him…best cuddles ever. And third, because he makes the bed so wonderfully warm and without him… There’s nothing worse than a cold bed, especially when it’s so damn EARLY…and you’re so completely naked.

- “I won’t be long, angel,” he mutters, giving you a forehead kiss. “Just go back to sleep.”

- Luckily for you though, he forgot his hoodie today. His hoodie, the one he wears all the time. The one that smells so deliciously of him. And, most importantly, the one that is so WARM.

- As soon as that bedroom door shuts behind him, you greedily snatch it up. And, like the gremlin you are, you hastily pull it over your head, burrowing back beneath the covers.

- Humming happily to yourself, you inhale his natural musky, cinnamony scent. Which makes you ‘fondly’ think of last night. How it felt to have him on top of you, pinning your hands above your head, his hot lips pressed to your neck.

- Just the thought alone has your skin growing warm with need. A wetness beginning to pool between your legs. Oh, the things that man can do to you.

- Laying back against the pillows, you close your eyes. Images of Hayden fill your mind as you slide your hands underneath his hoodie, cupping your breasts.

- You gently trace down the underside. Then slowly you bring your hands up to tease and pinch your pert nipples. Squeezing and playing with them, all the while thinking of every dirty thing he would say if it were his big hands instead.

- Whimpering, you trail your hands down the curves of your body. Coming to rest on the apex of your thighs.

- Brushing lightly across the outer lips of your soaked pussy, you mewl softly. Dragging your fingers up and down your needy cunt, not touching your clit quite yet.

- Your mind is abuzz with pleasure, breath shaky as you finally begin to rub small circles on your neglected nub. Your other hand teasing your entrance.

- “Hay,” you moan, easing a finger inside of you. Pumping in and out, you add more pressure to your clit. Imagining that it’s his long ones stretching you out so well.

- Slipping another in, your movements grow more frantic and desperate as the coil in your stomach tightens. “Hay…Hayden…”

- The door swings open. “Babe, did I leave…” He stops dead in his tracks, his eyes blown wide with lust. “…is that my hoodie?”

- You let out a frightened squeak and quickly sit up. Pulling his hoodie down as far as possible, face bright red. “I-I can explain! I-I can take it off! I-I…”

- “Don’t, it looks good on you.” Placing his hands on your hips, he gently pushes you onto your back. Making you squeak once more. “Oh, angel; just couldn’t wait until I got back, huh?”

- He crawls on top of you, his face mere inches from yours. “Guess, I’ll have to take care of you then,” he hums, flashing you a small smirk.

- “Please,” you beg. His hands moving from your hips to settle on your thighs, giving them a good squeeze. “You do it so much better.”

- Carefully he spreads your legs apart, groaning at the sight of your drenched core. Sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

- His lightly calloused fingertips open your lips, placing a soft kiss on your clit. “And why’s that?” He muses, staring up at you as he licks your sopping cunt.

- “Your fingers,” you moan, writhing beneath him. Becoming more and more of a breathless, shaky, hot mess.

- Removing his mouth, he replaces it with two of his fingers. Slowly pumping them in and out, stretching and filling you so much. “My fingers?”

- “Y-Yes.” You lift your hips in a futile attempt to gain more friction, to have them slide deeper. “They’re so m-much longer. T-They reach places mine c-can’t.”

- Hayden puts your leg over his shoulder. Pushing your hips back down with his free hand, he dives back in. His tongue rubbing your clit furiously, working it so skillfully.

- You can feel the heat rising inside of you, your walls fluttering around his fingers. “Hay, g-gonna…”

- “Go on,” he murmurs. Pulling back, he replaces his mouth with his thumb. Rubbing tight, little circles on your swollen bud. “Be a good girl, cum for me.”

- Crashing over the edge, you clamp down hard. The shockwaves of your orgasm totally overwhelming. Loud moans and cries falling from your lips as Hayden and his magical fingers continued to help you ride through it.

- Removing his fingers, earning a small whimper from you, he sits back on his legs. Licking them clean, savoring your unique taste. “Sweet as ever.”

- You watch breathless and blissed out as he undresses himself. Pumping his impressive length; the tip a flushed red, pre slowly leaking from it. “W-What about the gym, Hay?”

- Wearing a big grin, he leans back down. Capturing your lips in a fiery kiss, your essence still on his tongue. All the while pressing himself firmly against your already-eager-again pussy. “This is all the workout I need for today.” And with a snap of his hips, Hayden thrusts his point home.

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comfortless · 5 months

Text

Outside

but you’re mine (chapter 2 of ?)

🌱 PAIRING: König x fem!reader

🌾 CONTENT: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fae au. blanket warning for death, violence, very light horror elements <— comes with the territory; all of this being said it’s still cozy and sweet here!!, not even remotely canon compliant, slow burn, eventual smut. chapter specific warnings: ambivalence, pining, vague mentions of murder/abduction, very slightly suggestive.

🍃 NOTES: this is so much later coming out than i hoped it would be— apologies! wc: 7k.

<- prev ; next ->

Sleep addled eyes open to reveal the orange glow of a hunter’s moon, soil and clover beneath your nude flesh, the tickle of a dead fern rubbing against your bare calf as a gentle breeze pulls dying leaves from trees and leaves a wake of goose pimples on your flesh. Beneath the light of the moon, you gather your bearings well enough, the velvety dark creating illusions dancing at the corners of your vision. The shadow of the large antlers of an inquisitive buck pacing about, a woman swaying as a giggle escapes her parted lips, the sound of a pan flute playing some lively tune somewhere off in the distance.

As you sit up, taking in what you’ve believed you’ve just seen, it all quiets. The forest is as silent and still as always. Eyes wide and panicked heart palpitating wildly, you think to cover your most vulnerable parts with a cupped palm and the cross of your arm over the swift rise and fall of your chest.

How you managed to find yourself out in the dark, nude as any animal, is beyond your comprehension. Rationalizing seems futile, since you arrived not a thing has made any sort of sense to you, anyway. Inexplicable things happen, and frankly, it’s becoming quite the nuisance. Whoever has done this, dragged you from your bedroom to leave you in the darkened forest, can very well bet on the fact that they’ve made an enemy out of you. You stand to your feet, brushing dirt and fragments of leaves from the backs of your thighs and rear before concealing yourself once more.

What started as a series of harmless events seems to steadily build like a symphony as the days pass, and you only find comfort in knowing that it’s yet to reach any sort of crescendo. In your previous life, occupied by a mundane job and gray city skylines, if anything were to occur like this you would think your sanity had slipped. Convincing yourself you’re deluded wouldn’t change much here. You’ve tried already, only to find a man you’ve yet to properly meet curled against you in your own bed.

That night, only a week ago, felt like a distant memory now. He hadn’t been back. You had told Kate about it, of course, and in turn she spoke of her nightly visitor too. Someone who called himself John, who kept a cigar on his person when he anticipated speaking with her throughout the night. A loyal friend he was, she had told you, but you hardly had anything kind to say about the monster who had appeared from no where to steal your things, leave a dead bird in your bed, and invite himself beneath your blanket in turn. The only positive you could think of was that he had returned your lily in better health than it was when it had initially vanished. Kate hadn’t seemed particularly concerned, these things don’t usually harm humans in their own realm. It would give too much away, and they liked their secrets, their games.

Vulnerability looks sweet on you as you stumble about, careful to avoid the jagged edges of broken twigs and loose rock against your soles. You’re hopelessly lost, and god only knew how far from home you truly were. A part of you doesn’t want to play, to give whatever did this the satisfaction of seeing you break down as you spend your night desperate to return to shelter. It’s strange to feel such fear and anger at the same time, the sort of complex mixture of emotions that had you gritting your teeth as tears stung the corners of your eyes.

“Alright, come out, already! Take me back!,” You shout in a moment of weakness, realizing you’ve not progressed whatsoever. You could have sworn you’ve passed this same crooked oak twice already, it’s trunk bending so oddly it resembled someone kneeling in prayer. The air only seems to grow further still at your outburst, and your mind supplies a thought that rids your anger and only increases the fear. You shouldn’t have done that. How could someone so helpless be making demands to something capable of doing something like this on a whim, after all?

To your horror, your exclamation is answered by the metered sounds of footfalls in the darkness, heavy and deliberate. The worst of them only liked to come out at night, Kate had warned you over tea the morning after your visitor had made his appearance. Not all of them, but most. Some were perverse, foul-tongued and inhumanly horny. Some were volatile and quick to anger. Some were simply hungry, luring people out just like this to drag them back to whatever pocket of unreality they had stalked out of to bring so many just like you back to devour in the comfort of their lair.

The sounds draw nearer, coupled with a deep intake of breath, no doubt to take in your scent. It’s the gnashing of teeth that spurs you to run, clamoring through prickly nettles, shredding the soles of your feet on pine cone and loose stone. It gives chase, maneuvering with ease through the woodsy terrain, uprooting bushes and tearing through clover beds in its wake.

“Come…” The voice is a warbled mockery of human speech, fluctuating in a tone that seems it’s speaking from its belly rather than its throat. Even a well taught canine could speak better.

“Come...”

A shriek is ripped from your throat when you hear the creature no longer behind you, but in front of you. It chitters loudly, breathes deep once more. You brace yourself for the feeling of clustered, crooked fangs piercing into your exposed flesh, but… that pain never comes.

Your eyelids flutter when you hear an inhuman wail of pain, see the silhouette of two massive beasts scuffling about before you. Some morbid shadow puppet show, filled with grunts and screeches. There’s a distinct, wet ripping noise followed by the blackened spray of entrails hitting the bark of the trees that surround.

The thing that had been in pursuit of you sounds like a squealing pig as it falls into a puddle of its own blood, weakly thrashing about until a prolonged gasp leaves it. Silence would follow, if not for the sounds of your own ragged breathing.

The victor merely rolls his broad shoulders, tilts his head to look at you as you take a step back. You catch sight of a veil hanging over his head, and as your gaze travels lower you see the glimmer of blood on clawed fingertips. The creature from your room, the irony of the thing you had feared so now becoming your savior.

Perhaps seeing how easily he ripped one of his own kind apart should have terrified you. Yet you find yourself oddly consoled, eager to see something familiar in the dark.

“Thank you,” you huff out before you can catch yourself. No thanking them. There’s no taking it back, even as Kate’s voice rings out in your mind, you don’t even make the attempt to correct yourself. In spite of her warning, nothing happens. The man takes a slow step toward you, careful almost, as though the thought of making you flee was something he actually considered. It’s entirely opposite from how you know him to be, forced cuddles and gifts of rot. Still, you’ve been lucky to avoid some grisly end on this night, and the consequences of your gratitude quickly fall from your mind just as a tear slips down your cheek.

He seems lost in thought as the glow of blue irises lock onto you, reflective under starlight visible through the holes torn in his veil, before he removes the cloak covering his body and places it gently over your shoulders. His hands linger as he gently strokes your arms only to reluctantly draw away.

“Reizendes.” You don’t need to ask what the word means, the way his gaze softens as he stares down at you tells all. It’s the same look you saw Ghost give to Johnny’s grave. Albeit, a little less tame. His stare isn’t just appreciative, something carnal lurks beyond those eyes.

You don’t know why this man, this creature, is drawn to you. Why he looks at you the way that he does, why he came here to save a defenseless human woman. There’s so little reason, so little time given to be worthy of such a strange devotion. Simple curiosity seems an impossibility, Kate’s been here longer than you and she didn’t seem to know just what you referred to when you described him to her. There’s a pleading in your tear-filled eyes as your gaze meets his own. Why me?

The man takes another step, lowering himself just enough to look into your eyes as his widen. It’s the first time you’ve been face-to-face, somewhat. His hand raises, claws drawn inward toward his palm as he considers reaching for you, though he drops it back to his side the moment you dart your tongue out to nervously wet your lips.

“I need to get home.”

“Ja. I will come with you.” He says it as though it’s the most obvious thing to suggest, the only logical way to end a night like this.

“That wasn’t an invitation.”

His eyes seem to crease at the corners in amusement, you imagine a sharp-toothed grin beyond the fabric hiding himself away from you. “You have already slept with me.”

Your reaction seems to be exactly what the fae expects, your lips parted and face warmed from embarrassment as your eyes go wide in surprise. “What— no, don’t say it like that!” To your chagrin, he has the audacity to laugh, a gravely rumble from his solid chest. A pretty sound, a haunted church bell, something you can’t place.

“You can stay with me.”

“Why would I do that?” You’re glaring at him, but you get the sense he knows there’s no bite to your harsh look whatsoever.

“You owe me, ja?”

You’re caught in a strange stasis between comfort and disgust, really. Your room’s felt colder at night since a week ago, even with your window shut tight, curtains drawn, and every blanket you owned piled atop you, none of it could bring back the warmth you felt tucked against him. Yet, here, beneath a pumpkin moon, you still can’t put together what exactly he is and your mind is like a banshee, screaming out for you to leave. Even with his cloak pulled tight around you, fur lining soft on your flesh, you still shiver from the breeze. The running, the confusion and fear. The defiance is clear in your eyes, but the exhaustion is evident everywhere else, from the rapid rise and fall of your chest to the blood staining your bare feet.

The fae doesn’t hesitate as he plucks you from the leaf-ridden ground and tosses you over his shoulder as though you weigh little more than a twig. His hand curves over your lower back, keeping you in place. Though you make your displeasure known with a grumbled string of curses, you’re only met with the touch of his clawed thumb flittering along your side as if in consolation. His touch is something that brings you an odd calm. You’ve considered that since your impromptu meeting if he’s got some sort of magic laced into his fingertips, making you pliant, or perhaps you’re a bit more accepting of his strange courtship than you would ever allow yourself to believe.

“You’ll take me home in the morning,” you whisper, a sulky request.

He huffs, his shoulder seeming to deflate almost imperceptibly beneath your bare tummy. “Ja.”

His strides are great as he begins to walk, clearing through the forest with ease, and he’s careful, careful not to allow any outstretched branches to even make contact with your body. He clutches you tighter when the howling of coyotes could he heard in the distance, rubs at your side each time you shiver. How a monster could be so soft, so attentive is beyond you, but subconsciously you begin to relax just a little more with each passing moment.

He places you back on your feet when you reach a small clearing, a circle of trees surrounding and grass that feels pillowy beneath you. His hands move to your hips, pushing you back as a whine of protest leaves your lips before your back hits a soft nest of furs, cleared away of any debris, right below the lofty gaze of the moon.

“I didn’t like the bird,” you speak up as he sits at your side, you pull his cloak tighter around yourself. The fae cocks his head at you, moving a hand far too large to rest on your knee. You’re confused, so confused. You both want to shield yourself from this titan and open yourself up to him, in bloom. Submissive, but withdrawn.

“I will leave deer next time,” he answers, his blue eyes crinkling again as he grins and leans in to nudge his nose against the side of your neck. “Little doe. Like you.”

Your hand rises to press against the front of his veil, to push him back. He tenses for a moment, but resigns only to push himself closer, nosing at the side of your jaw as he grasps at your waist. It’s futile, really, trying to shove him away but you don’t give up as you twist and writhe against him. “No! Don’t leave dead things in my bed.”

He pulls you tightly toward him, just like the night before. An arm tucked under your neck and one hand splayed over your womb. Your battle lost, banner raised by way of fluttering lashes and parted lips.

“Women like fur and feathers, ja?” There’s a lilt to his voice, both amused and desperate as he practically vibrates against you. “I will give them to you always.”

You busy yourself trying to pry his hand away from your abdomen, making a show of nothing as you weakly push and shove until clawed fingers slot themselves between your own. The simple act of holding his hand snuffs out any bit of fight you had left in you, because damn it all, your heart flutters.

“I don’t want your gifts.”

“What is better then?,” he huffs against your neck, the warmth of his breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, and you could swear you felt the graze of teeth just beneath his veil. “To fuck?”

You shake your head furiously at his suggestion, pulling your hand from his and wriggling away from him. “Absolutely not,” you hiss, eyes narrowed as you glare at him only a few inches distance away.

He laughs, and to your horror— your excitement, crawls over you, his hands resting on either side of your head. It’s hard to see in the dark, even as your eyes adjust somewhat, but as the veil flutters with his movement, you don’t catch sight of any monstrous face beneath it, only a man. The glimpse is brief, hardly enough to paint a proper picture, before he softly knocks his forehead against yours and brushes against your face. It stifles you, how a man like this, one that leaves gifts of death and has the stature of a beast could be so very gentle.

“I have missed you,” he breathes against your cheek as he lowers himself atop you, and for the first time you’re realizing he’s just as nude as you are, the cloak the only article of clothing between the two of you. But despite the feel of his regrettably impressive manhood against your thigh, he makes no move to ravish you. In fact, he seems content just covering you like a weighted blanket.

You bite your lower lip, chewing at it as an unwanted surge of arousal pools between your thighs, pressed so tightly together it’s almost painful. Unwanted and quickly over looked. This isn’t simple lust, your heart aches.

“You are so soft,” he continues, lowering his head to hook his chin over your shoulder, a hand stuffed beneath your lower back. “Softer than fur. Softer than feathers.”

“What do you want?,” you ask him for the second time since your meeting. It’s not that you don’t have an idea. He makes it painfully clear with the way he showers you in affection and stares at you as if you’re the only star in the night sky.

Still, he humors you with a response, “Keine ahnung.” Follows it up with a shrug of his massive shoulders and a soft whisper, “I don’t know.”

Yet, he dips his head down, with his lips pressed against yours from just beyond the veil, kisses you softly through the fabric as his hand moves to cup your cheek. The urge to tear yourself away is still there, but quieted, lulled into some sort of comfort. You find yourself reciprocating a little dumbly, unsure of just how to properly kiss with the curtain of fabric in the way. The warmth spreading across your face is dizzying, almost. The sole thought of this feeling predestined beds down in the recesses of your brain.

You think to request that he remove what hides himself from you, yet he pulls away before you can murmur it into his mouth.

“Give me your name.” The words are a demand, indefinitely, and with his size it’s hard not to view them in a threatening light. There’s something else, too: desperation. You’ve already given enough, your gratitude, a debt to be repaid.

You’ve thumbed through some of Kate’s books, the ones separated from the stock of romance novels on her shelves. There wasn’t as much material as you had hoped about these creatures, though you supposed that finding truths about what was not even supposed to exist was bordering on the impossible, anyhow. However, one sentiment seemed to ring out as fact between each meager source— giving him your name is reducing yourself to a possession.

“Show me your face,” you counter, to which he shakes his head with a breathy laugh.

“Not on this night,” he whispers. You find him at your side instead, tugging you close as he hums that very same song that slipped you into sleep just like before.

“Then you won’t have my name tonight, either,” you murmur against his broad chest, languidly pulling yourself closer as you toss the side of the cloak over the both of you like a blanket.

— — —

You don’t want to think about it, the tingling on your lips as though it were truly your first kiss, the way your heart stutters in your chest. Speaking of it seemed somehow worse, as if it would breath life into the memory. The way it weighs on you makes it feel as if it’s already something tangible, a snarling black cat with its claws buried into the shoulder of your coat. It’s raining when you pull your car from the driveway, your keys having turned up digging into your side beneath the sheets after the night you willingly spent wrapped so tightly against him. All the gray somehow made the vibrant oranges and reds of the trees seem dismal, too. You entertain the thought that it’s truly the fact that you’re being haunted by something that rips the intestines of creatures out with his bare hands that’s really causing this wave of misery, but something tells you that it’s the attachment you have to such a monstrosity that truly does it.

He’s done something and you just know it, cinched your heart with some otherworldly fairy bullshit, made the weeks waiting for him to reappear seem utterly unbearable. You feel like some poor housewife, loitering around doing menial tasks while your husband is either gunned down in some foreign battlefield or fucking into some pretty lady a sea’s breadth away. It’s been a month and there’s no sign of him, even visiting with Ghost you no longer feel the stares of the unseen up the walking trail. Just nothing but a hollow in the pit of your gut that taunts you with the suggestion that he won’t be back.

You drown out your thoughts on the ride into town with music, skipping every love song that plays on shuffle with a diligent tap of your thumb on your phone screen. You’ve put no effort into looking nice, a t-shirt several sizes too large and pair of pajama pants beneath your coat. Your eyes look deadened when you meet your own gaze in the rear view mirror. A stupid thing about heartbreak, really, is that you don’t even need too much to feel it. A friendship spanning a mere week could hurt just as badly depending on the circumstances. Feeling some affection for something no other person could possibly get their hooks into only to have him vanish like this almost makes the feeling seem justified. Almost.

Kate and Ghost have been good company. You haven’t told them, but there’s an odd sympathy in Kate’s eyes when she looks at you, she speaks with her passerby friend outside rather than in at night now, and Ghost… Well, he appears more often as a devil dog, shows his teeth and keeps his distance from you. You still have talks, from time to time he tells you about Johnny. He tells you that he’s been lost for a time, but he waits there knowing he’ll come home like any good dog would. It’s just the way he looks at you now, like there’s something looming over you that even he can’t properly detect.

Your solitude helps on dreary days like this, when you can’t pry it out—him, clawing at the corners of your mind.

The town feels just as hushed as everywhere else in this place.

A small street houses old buildings nestled tightly against one another, the brick crumbling and some corners blackened as though some angry soul had tried to burn it all down. It’s the kind of place that feels haunted, you think as you park your car on the mostly empty street, catching sight of your reflection in a shattered window. The thin blue curtains of the building billow outward as if beckoning to you and you tear your eyes away immediately. You don’t want to see anything again. Not him, not another giggling and twirling through clusters of bramble and fern. None of it. It’s decided, a bitter force of your own will.

Yet, when you step foot into the old bakery your mind races with his gift, his promise of more and… would it really be so bad to get him one too? A proper offering, not one that harmed a single living thing. Something soft, like your shared kiss. You step to the counter, noting how coldly the older woman just beyond the pretty cabinet of glazed buns and slices of apple pie eyes you. These days, you don’t feel welcome anywhere, caught in a loop of misplaced pity and loneliness. It’s one or the other, sometimes they overlap.

You pay for a coffee and a sugar bun, tucking the brown paper bag holding it into the deep pocket of your coat before you head back outside and choose to have your coffee on a bench. The wind and rain have lessened, somewhat, falling into a mere drizzle and a featherlight breeze instead. The sound of the earth is much more pleasing to the ear than the void of silence you’ve felt lost in.

Approaching footsteps draw your attention as you take a sip from the paper cup. Your eyes meet a sincere face as he steps towards you, looking a bit uncertain. A cop, no doubt. Perhaps even a rookie. He doesn’t have the hardened face of the standard city police, just a polite smile across his lips, a sort of kind twinkle in his eyes.

“Mornin’,” the cop says to you as he stands to the side of the bench. It’s nice to see someone normal, not unearthly. You offer him a slight pull of your lips, a half-smile.

“Good morning.”

“Kyle Garrick,” he introduces himself, offering his hand out for you to shake. You accept, shaking it twice before drawing your hand back. You hesitate for a moment, but inevitably give the man your name in turn. He is just that, you realize, a human man. “Haven’t ya… well, you’ve seen the news, yeah? Shouldn’t be out on your own like this.” You shake your head slightly, the hand wrapped around your coffee cup falling into your lap. The officer goes on to explain that disappearances occur somewhat frequently around this place. He has the courtesy to spare you the bulk of detailing the state these folks come back in, but your mind can fill in the gaps well enough. Dragged into the dark, a lair filled with teeth. It almost happened to you.

He looks down at you a bit sympathetic for a moment, before he brings himself to continue on. “Not tryin’ to scare you. Just want to make sure you’re aware.”

A shaky sigh leaves you before you bring your cup back to your lips, a long sip lost in thought before you meet the officer’s brown eyes once more. “I’ll be careful,” you respond quietly. “Can’t say the thought of dealing with a serial killer sounds fun at all.”

That earns you a laugh from him. It sounds sweet. Maybe you’re not the most trusting, but Kyle seemed like a good man.

“Can’t say for certain if we’ve got a serial killer at all, but ah— I shouldn’t be tellin’ you all of this, yeah?”

“Sounds like you’re trying to scare me off.”

“No, not at all,” he responds with a shake of his head. “Don’t fret too much. Probably just the grizzlies, the wolves… you know how nature can be.”

“Cruel?”

“Not quite.” He pauses as his brow pinches in thought. “Just… hysterical.”

If only he knew. You don’t have the gall to tell him that what he’s in pursuit of likely wasn’t an animal or a person at all, but some other thing. Kate probably would have outright, you imagine, but you’re not Kate.

He tips his head at you, tugging his black cap down by the brim. “I’ll be seeing you, then.”

You nod him off in reply. The wind was starting to pick back up, the sugar bun in your pocket growing cooler with each passing breeze.

— — —

Kate’s been absent more often lately, a small pile of sticky notes left on the countertop all with hurriedly scrawled out ‘Be back soon!’s. When you arrive home, it doesn’t come as a surprise to you to see yet another stuck onto the refrigerator door with the same words written over the blue paper in black ink.

Visiting Ghost proved fruitless. The cemetery was completely empty. It was rare that he wasn’t stationed there, seated like a statue amongst the rows of headstones. Waiting around for him to return seemed irrational. Though he tolerated you well enough, Ghost was an enigma, and seeking out his company felt almost pathetic on your part.

Your hands clench at your sides as you walk the trail back home.

Your frustration is misplaced and you know it, but you’re exhausted with the same scenery. The same four walls surrounding you, the dreary little valley town, the cemetery. When things happen here they spark up your adrenaline in a way nothing else ever could, the high far better than any vice or pleasure you’ve ever accepted. The reverse is a pensive, horrid wait and coupled with this longing, it’s become unbearable.

Kate and Ghost had their secrets that you choose to leave well alone, and you… You realize you’ve got your secrets too as you place the sugar bun on your windowsill as a small offering for him.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he had said.

“I miss you,” you breathe out into the empty air, staring out the window as the rain begins to pick up again.

The sugar bun is gone the following morning and you find flowers in your bed. A bouquet of harebell and Queen Anne’s lace haphazardly tied with a short length of twine.

Late November drags itself in silently. The glass of your window is frosted most mornings, a hand print far too large left against it from the outside. Otherwise, everything is just quieted. Though you’ve rarely seen much wildlife around the house, it seems even more desolate now.

You help Kate set up a Christmas tree in the corner of the den, right by the hearth. The baubles and lights adorning it bring a warmth to you that seems uncanny this time of the year. You stray from your room more often, finding it nice to sit by the warmth of a roaring fire with one of her books in hand. (She tells you that John kindled the flames each time, yet you’ve still never seen them.)

Though you bide your time during the day, nights are your favorite. You leave gifts of honey and small stones, you wake to them gone and often in their place, blooming flowers tied with thin lengths of string. Flowers from someplace far away and less cold, someplace that doesn’t exist for you.

“Leave it alone.”

“Have you ever left it alone?”

Ghost huffs, ears flicked back and eyes narrowed. Try as he might, looking intimidating as a dog was just… impossible for him at least, especially now as he stands on his back legs, paws resting on your windowsill as he inspects your new gift, some strange cluster of unnaturally red pearls and flowers so golden they didn’t seem real. He sniffs at your gifts, black lips drawn back in a very canine expression of disdain. Perhaps you would still think him entirely cute, harmless, if you didn’t know what he had the capability to look like.

“I just want to know… where they’re coming from. You should know.”

“Why would I know what you’re invitin’ in?” Ghost counters as he places his big paws back onto the floor before padding over to your bed and jumping up to snuff at your sheets.

“I just thought I would ask.”

His diligent sniffing pauses for a moment, and you swear you see some recognition in his dark eyes. It’s distant, well guarded, but you feel certain he knows something that he just refuses to tell. The dog falls entirely silent, and you know you’re not getting another word out of him. Not tonight at least.

You had invited him in in hopes for answers, not for more questions, even explained in depth what had occurred that night in the woods. If your eyes were filled with tiny stars as you recounted it all, he hadn’t said a word to acknowledge it.

“Leave it alone.” Ghost repeats when he meets your eyes, dreamily thinking back to him again. Always, a constant gnawing at your mind. “It’ll want more.”

“My name?”

“More.”

“I don’t understand. You don’t want anything more from me, John doesn’t want more from Kate. Why would he be any different?” It sounds pitiful, even to yourself. You wouldn’t know more than Ghost, you’re just desperate. Desperate for the same thing as the fae you spent your nights missing.

Ghost barks out a laugh, surprising even to your own ears. He doesn’t need to say a thing. Black shulk, harbinger of death. A friend, for now, but he knows you’re reckless, knows your time will come eventually. It’s the reason he exists.

He gives you a nod when the recognition floods your face, and almost sympathetically places his massive head in your lap.

Tonight’s the first time he allows you to pet him, trailing your hand down the length of his spine as his wiry fur parts beneath your fingertips. He’s colder than you would expect, colder than the bite of winter outside. You ask him, again, to tell you about Johnny, and in turn, he tells you he’s on his way home.

The chill of Ghost’s stiff body is replaced by the warmth of the fire in the hearth as you lead him back to the door to let him roam into the night after little talk, little introspection.

But something is better than nothing.

The smell of coffee pulls you from sleep, Kate’s humming could be heard from the kitchen, a soft song, one you had heard her play on her record player some nights when sleep dodged you. It’s mornings like these that remind you of just how peaceful things could be here. She hadn’t even seemed to mind how you had fallen asleep on the couch, or Ghost’s dirty paw prints tracked across the hardwood floors. As you stretch and pad over to greet her, a mug of warm coffee is pressed into your hands and she smiles.

“I’ll clean the floor,” you murmur into your cup, a bit sheepish.

“Why? He’s got two hands, doesn’t he?”

You could never grow tired of her laugh, not hers. It’s sweet and so gentle, it almost reminds you of his. There’s love there, an affection born of two lonesome souls finding solace in one another through silly talks of monsters and shared cups of comfort. Kate really has become family to you after only a few short months.

“I suppose so. Want me to drag him back?”

She raises an eyebrow at that, flashes you an unknowing smile, to which you immediately shake your head.

“Oh, come on!”

“I’m teasing you,” she says, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know you’ve got someone else in mind.”

“How did—”

“Ghost.”

You place your mug on the countertop, looking utterly flabbergasted at the fact that he of all people would run telling your roommate about your infatuation with some suspicious stranger. Your face warms, a swell of embarrassment rising from your chest to your temples. It’s not petty, really, he might have your best interest at heart if he truly had one at all, but you weren’t quite ready to tell Kate about the strange gifts or the depth of your longing after a simple kiss. It was more than that, the danger you had been in, the way he had saved you. It felt like much more.

“I should have told you about it all,” you respond tinily.

Kate shrugs her shoulders a bit, idly tapping at her mug as she studies you. You’re stuck feeling like a child again, telling your guardian about some silly crush at school. Thankfully, she doesn’t pry. The look she gives you merely suggests that she wants you to be careful.

— — —

Careful isn’t what you would have called yourself when you pried open your window in the dead of night. You remembered the kneeling tree, the way it slumped over in its prayers to the earth and if you could just find it again, perhaps you could find him. The air outside was frigid, but you prepared as well as your impulsivity would allow; several layers of clothing and a blanket pulled tightly over your shoulders. It isn’t snowing, not so early into the winter here, yet the ledge of the window is still slippery with frozen condensation. You manage to keep yourself stable as you make your descent, grappling at the wall of the cottage to keep yourself upright.

You leave the window open, the light of your table lamp bathing the room in a warm glow, so inviting you nearly forget your motivations to crawl back in. Before the thought takes root, you turn on your heel and storm out into the dark forest.

Nights are a bit more lively, you find. A woman sings someplace far off, an eerie song telling the story of a carriage traveling a dangerous road, something long-forgotten and old. Hoofbeats thunder past you, accompanied by a breeze that chills you down to the bones, yet nothing could be seen, even with the glow of your phone’s flashlight lighting your way. When you do see something, it’s limbs are all crooked and long, mouth wide and filled with sharpened teeth. Its fur cascaded down its back, brown and covered in a light dusting of moss. It merely scuttles past you without a word or so much as a glance.

You know better than ever that this is dangerous, of course, but you can’t bring yourself to turn back. Some part of you believes that if danger comes, he’ll be there to fight it off, time and time again, just like the last.

The bent tree is still in its place when you arrive and try to retrace your steps from that night. Several meters to the left, a desperate sprint forward, and… just as anticipated, your light illuminates the darkened splatter against the bark of the trees where the fae had torn the other apart before your very eyes. There is no carcass, of course, the dried blood is just confirmation that you’re on the correct path. You turn to your right and set off in the direction that the man had carried you.

The glade is empty of pelts when your arrive. In place of the makeshift bed you had shared are only fallen leaves. You expected warmth, the familiar greeting of a figure too tall and broad to wrap you up in his arms, careful with his claws. Careful with you.

You’ve been holding back tears since he disappeared, little exchanges of gifts doing nothing to protect your heart from the weight of what you feel. When you begin your walk home, the dam breaks. Your face is cold from the wetness, the chill of each gust of wind. Heartbroken after a month, but shattered in the winter, unfortunate and weary, perhaps it was best to follow Ghost’s advice and leave it alone. Curious whispers fill the night air, another song and giggles and chimes start up in the distance. In better spirits, maybe you would have followed the sounds of the gathering, lost yourself in silver tongues and mischief.

Your window comes into view after some time, you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been out in the cold, but you’re excited to return to your bed, to creature comforts. You reach your hands up to the windowsill, fingers curling over the inward slab of wood as you try to pull yourself back in. Your leg kicks at the side of the house for purchase, only to find none. With a small yelp, you fall onto your rear.

Sneaking out was for children with curfews, not an adult— why hadn’t you just used the door? You’re beating yourself up for your own silly decisions, trying to climb up again when a pair of strong hands reach behind you to tug you back against a firm chest. Your breath catches, panic settling in your guts until your side is stroked with a touch so tender a new wave of tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Little one…,” a voice coos behind you, a veil pressed against the back of your head as he lowers himself down to your height, his arms still curled around you protectively.

“Where have you been? I… I missed you, and you didn’t…” You trail off, feeling so small, so caught up in your own feelings. The sentence is left unfinished as you twist around in his grip to wrap your arms around his middle, face buried into his chest.

“You told me not to come to your room.” He sounds confused, hurt. He tilts your head up to catch your eyes and his soften in time with just a look.

You hadn’t expected him to take the comment about an invitation so literally. His consideration almost stings. The words were said with conviction at the time, assured that you hadn’t wanted a monster in your bed, but couldn’t he see how that had changed? Hear how your heart fluttered now? He’s different, so unlike you in a way that confuses and enraptures you, some long-forgotten god out of touch with human conventions.

“I liked your gifts this time.”

His grip around you tightens momentarily, as though trying to embrace you further, pull you deeper into his chest to keep you locked tight in his heart entirely.

“I loved yours, little one.”

“Tell me who you are and you can come in whenever you like,” you huff out in promise, a cloud of your own breath puffing between you and the broad chest you had grown to admire so.

He curls a hand at the nape of your neck, cradling you against him as he lowers his head to kiss you through the veil once more. It’s warm, even as your blanket slips from your shoulders and falls to the ground. The fur of his cloak drapes around you in a better replacement as you return his affections. The kiss is just as chaste as the last, but the sentiment in it far out measures the contact.

He’s still yours. He never truly left.

“My name is König.” He tells you as he pulls away to carefully lift you from the ground and raise you up to the windowsill with so little effort it makes your knees weak. You pull yourself in and turn to look back at him. His gaze is adoring, yours must be too. You feel the way your eyelids slacken, the smile pulling at your lips.

You accept your blanket from him as he offers it and slot your fingers between his once the cover is cast aside. His hand covers yours almost entirely as it curls over yours. The claws look even more wicked in the low light of your room, but you don’t fear him. Not even a little. This time is so much different. It’s scarier to imagine spending another night without him wrapped around you.

It’s not the flowers, the furs, or the feathers that you want. It’s shallow kisses and blackened claws and the feeling of having a titan at your beck and call. It’s the way your heart flutters and your stomach twists with the thrill of falling in love that you long for.

“Come in, König.”

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #konig x reader #König #Konig #cod fanfiction #call of duty

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ode2rin · 11 months

Text

hold on to me

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. hurt/comfort | a post-nightmare comfort | fluff | established relationship | a light angst if you squint hard !!

in which: a nightmare made reo hold on to you a little tighter

the room was cloaked in darkness, the only source of light being the soft moonlight that seeped through the half-closed curtains. the gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the silence as you stirred, your sleep disrupted by an unsettling feeling.

there’s no firm arm on your waist. nor is there a warm body next to yours.

confusion tugged at your mind, and worry crept in as you glanced at the empty space beside you.

a sliver of light spilled out from beneath the bathroom door, casting a glow across the dimly lit room.

glancing at the clock on the bedside table, it reads 2:37 am. why was reo awake at this hour?

curiosity piqued, you sat up, a knot forming in your stomach. your concern grew with each passing minute, and after what felt like an eternity, you decided to investigate.

quietly slipping out of bed, you padded across the room, your bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. each step felt heavier than the last, anticipation mingling with the remnants of sleepiness that clung to your senses.

pushing the bathroom door to open fully, you were met with a scene that instantly tugged at your heart.

reo was hunched over the sink with his forearms supporting his body weight, his disheveled purple hair falling across his face, partially obscuring his troubled expression. the soft glow of the bathroom light illuminated the lines of distress etched on his features.

“reo…?” you whispered, your voice filled with concern, trying to get his attention.

he turned his head slightly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and relief as he recognized your presence. “why are you up? it’s late.”

“i should be asking that. what’s the matter, love?”

god, that endearment still made him feel unwell even after three years of hearing it from your lips.

“nothing,” reo responded, basically lying through his teeth. he knows you know he’s lying.

throwing him a narrowed look in response, you held his gaze, silently urging him to open up.

reo looked away from your gaze, “i… just had a nightmare,” he admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability.

“i dreamt that... that you left me.”

your heart ached at his words, and without a second thought, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. reo leaned into your embrace, his body seeking solace in your touch.

but before you could say something, he beat you to it.

“please don’t leave me.”

“reo…” you whispered in response, a bit surprised by his sudden plea.

“no, that’s too selfish to ask,” he interrupted, realizing the absurdity of his request, “i can’t ask you that.”

reo turned both of your bodies to face each other, the mirror in front of you reflecting your intertwined figures. his hands found their way to hold your face, his touch tender yet desperate.

“if you wake up one day and you no longer love me or if you no longer want me to be a part of your everyday, i only ask of you to not leave me so suddenly,” he pleaded, his voice filled with fear.

reo's biggest fear is not losing any of his billions in a blink of an eye. it's not even losing his thriving soccer career. ever since you entered his life, reo's greatest fear has revolved around you.

it's not about you lying to him one day. heck, it's not even you using him for his money.

reo's biggest fear is that one saturday morning, you’ll wake up before him and you won't lean in and kiss him on the forehead like you always do. instead, you'll gaze upon his sleeping body and start noticing all of his flaws. your thoughts lingering on his shortcomings and everything that he's not. then, as you walk into the kitchen and brew yourself some coffee, staring at the pale morning rays of sunlight entering the window frame, you'll come to the conclusion that, for no particular reason at all, you don't love him anymore.

reo's biggest fear is that one day, on a goddamn random morning, you suddenly realize you no longer love him.

nothing. nothing would ever prepare him for that.

and so, with his voice quivering with a mix of uncertainty and distress, “just give me a month— heck, who am i kidding, a year if you may— worth of notice,” he pleads more.

you felt his touch pressed slightly in your jaw, as if seeking comfort and reassurance from the warmth coming from your skin.

“because i don't think i'd ever make it out alive... if one day this came crumbling right before my eyes and i couldn’t do anything but watch you leave.” his voice cracked, and you felt your heart do the same at the sound of it.

reo gently took your hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart, as he spoke with a trembling voice, “i don't think this heart will ever beat the same way again.”

because it’s yours. his heart belonged to you. it was so full of you that he could hardly call it his own.

and the mere thought of you dropping it because you no longer wanted it was beyond devastating to even process—to even think of without physically feeling his heart shatter piece by piece.

“so please, please give me time to prepare. not so sudden, y/n.”

a tear welled up in reo’s eyes with his final plea, glistening with unspoken emotions. with unwavering intensity, he locked his gaze with yours, as if searching for reassurance and promises.

feeling the weight of his words, you gently held his hand that rested on your cheek, intertwining your fingers with his. without breaking eye contact, you brought his hand to your lips, pressing a tender kiss against his warm skin.

reo's breath caught in his throat as he felt the softness of your lips against his hand, a gesture of comfort and love. his gaze never wavered from yours as he listened to your response, his heart hanging on your every word.

“you do not need to ask me for time, love,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with sincerity. “because there's no day in this lifetime that i would not choose to be by your side.”

“and that day you fear will never come,” you declared firmly, your voice unwavering. “because to me, it will be constantly, continually, consistently, you.”

your words washed over reo, soothing his fears and filling him with a renewed sense of hope. the depth of your love and commitment resonated within him, providing solace to his anxious heart.

“and i know it's scary,” you continued, “there will be times that your fear will speak loud, but i just hope that my love will be louder because i am here, just with you.”

“i will never cross a bridge without your hand in mine,” you added, your voice filled with conviction. “i will never sit at a table that doesn't include a seat for you right beside me. and i am never, ever going to any place that you can't be.”

it’s not fair.

this is why it’s so hard not to love you fiercely.

why do you always know the right words to soothe him? it’s as if you’re fluent in speaking his heart’s own language. after three years of loving you, reo didn’t know he could possibly be in love with you more.

“don’t say things like that. i might hold on to it,” he admitted, his eyes brimming with vulnerability.

a gentle smile graced your lips as you reached out, gently caressing his cheek with your fingertips, your touch conveying reassurance and warmth.

“good. hold on to them,” you whispered, your voice soft and your eyes locked with his. “hold on to me.”

note. i blame everything on that one tiktok talking about how what nagi did to reo will mess up his future relationships what the hell i did not need to see that | i also made this for me i’m convinced me and reo have the same fear when it comes to relationships jahskajhsajksh he’s so relatable damn it | also got inspired by a quote i saw on pinterest! (also also can you tell i’m referencing some scenes from the anime in reader’s lines 👀 )

another note. see u at the end of this month! all the love, mimi (❁´◡`❁)

#☁️ my ode to you #me and him fr 🤞🏻#mikage reo x reader #mikage reo #mikage reo fluff #mikage reo x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 9 months

Text

Teeth

Part 17

Werepanther! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, anxiety, bad dreams, comfort, talks of injury.

You find that packing a bag is a lot harder than anticipated.

You stand in your bedroom after Billy made sure it was safe, trying to just grab as many items of work clothing as possible. Your eyes drop on the modest blue dress you’d worn with the intention of catching his eye, and your heart squeezes at the reminder of every time he’d abandoned you. You really didn’t feel like doing this, staying with him would be torture, especially since you’d told him earlier in the day that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

There’s a pressure in your throat when you think of him, and yet still, a flutter in your stomach. How could one person make you feel so sad, and undeniably happy at the same time?

You sigh, flopping onto your bed aggressively, feeling the cool sensation of your sheets against your cheek, wiggling to get comfortable and accidentally knocking one of your many pillows off the bed. You reach for it lazily, sitting up and grumbling when you can’t reach it.

Like everything else, you almost miss this, until you remember Billy telling you that he’d left some type of note.

It’s what makes you look, really look, ducking your head under the bed to look around. Tucked in the small space between your nightstand and your bed, you notice the peek of a piece of paper.

You reach for it, squishing your hand into the small crevice.

It’s not much bigger than your phone, and you tilt your head to study what you’ve found.

You know his handwriting, sleek and a little messy, perhaps too many things on his mind all at once.

‘I promise,

I didn’t want to leave you.

-Billy’

Your mouth turns down into a frown, a deep chasm of sadness being carved out inside you. You’re not sure how to feel, but for the first time, you try to think about things from his perspective.

Maybe he hadn’t meant to leave that night, maybe he’d wanted to wake up with you as much as you’d wanted to wake up with him.

You wonder what that might have been like, opening your eyes and finding him there, maybe still asleep. Just the idea of it flips your stomach.

And the absence of it brings tears to your eyes, longing for something too big for you to name.

Your lip wobbles, your throat tightens, the telltale signs of an oncoming episode of tears.

It’s like a release, letting yourself cry, feeling the lingering sadness and fear find a way out of you.

Desperate, to feel safe and protected.

He knows it’s Dinah before she knocks.

It’s a familiar scent, one of his most significant ‘almost’ relationships- if he could even call it that.

In reality, it had just been three months of fooling around, late nights and early mornings and a constant string of ‘never enoughs’ between them.

She’d put an end to it amicably over breakfast, and he’d understood, even agreed.

That was three years ago.

They’d encountered each other a lot over the following years, even butting heads over keeping clients of his safe once or twice.

Dinah, with her lilac scent, was something of a friend to him, despite the number of times their conversations escalated into arguments.

Billy pulls the door open to greet her, cup of coffee in hand, she steps in with her hair in a ponytail and her face clear of makeup, having clearly come from home.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” He says to her.

Dinah nods.

“It’s fine.” She responds, taking a sip of her coffee and sauntering over to the photos still laid out on your counter.

He comes to stand beside her, trying to imagine what she could be seeing.

After a moment, the suspense is too much.

“What do you think?” He asks.

It takes a moment for her to respond.

“Someone is trying to scare her. These photos-.” Dinah gestures at two photos in particular, one of them is taken from a high vantage point, the rooftop most likely, of the alley where you’d been robbed. He can see the back of your head as you try to back away from one man just to run into the other. The other photo is of you and Andrew in the grocery parking lot, he can see the fear in your eyes. He takes a deep breath to reign in the beast.

“-Were picked in particular to frighten her, to show her that he’s always there, in her worst moments. They want her to feel watched.”

He clenches his jaw, it was an analysis he’d already drawn upon, but hearing it from someone else solidifies his anger.

“You think this is sexual?” Billy asks, looking over Dinah’s shoulder.

“I can’t say. They could be getting off on the fear, but the photos themselves don’t give much away, except that she’s being watched a lot.”

Dinah grabs a small packet of gloves from her bag, and carefully takes her time, tugging one out of the packet and sliding it onto her right hand. She grabs a photo, lifting it to her nose and taking a cautionary sniff.

He knows what she smells, ink, paper, and distinctly nothing else.

“Hmm.” She hums, flipping it around to examine the back of it.

He raises his eyebrows curiously.

“There’s no scent on these, nothing discernible. They could be copies for her, and not the ones the stalker looks at and obsesses over. But that doesn’t make sense.”

Billy’s trying to see what Dinah sees.

“Why doesn’t that make sense?”

Suddenly, Dinah pauses and tilts her head.

What now? Billy wants to ask.

“You’re not in any of these.”

“Yeah?”

Dinah looks up at him as if he’s supposed to understand something he clearly doesn’t. She looks back down, begins shuffling through the photos with her gloved hands. She stops at a particular photo.

“Isn’t this your front door?” Dinah asks.

Billy looks over, nodding at the photo of you, standing outside his apartment. He didn’t know when exactly it was taken, but he has a general idea that it might be when he was gone.

“It is.”

“But you weren’t there.”

“No.” He answers.

At the same moment, something else disturbs his ears. Both him and Dinah turn to your bedroom, listening to the quiet sounds of you crying.

Billy lets out a low sigh of agony on your behalf, he turns to Dinah to excuse himself, but she’s already looking at him like he’s her next puzzle.

“That bad, huh?”

He doesn’t dignify her comment with an answer.

“I’ll be right back.” He grunts, turning away from Dinah.

You wipe at your tears hastily when someone, who you presume is Billy, knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah?” You say, with a heavy wobble in your voice, crumpling the note in your hand to conceal it at the same moment he opens the door.

You glance up at him, a tear swelling at the corner of your eye.

You give an awkward laugh, looking away as you wipe your eye.

“Sorry, long day.” You mumble, sniffling.

He doesn’t say anything, walking over to you, before gently pushing the pillow that’s beside you away to make space for him to sit.

You furiously wipe at your tears, a little tired of depending on him to comfort you.

You sniffle, unable to handle the silence between you, opening your palm to show him the piece of paper you had intended to hide from him.

“Found your note.” You say, trying to keep your tone light, despite the shaky way it sounds.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, in a low way that makes his remorse resonate through your chest.

You smile, shaking your head, wiping at more tears.

“It’s alright, I guess I’m still trying to understand how intense this field of work is.”

You hear him take a slow breath, still unable to look up at him.

“I shouldn’t be repeating this, but it was my friend, Frank. His son had gone missing. I can’t say much more than that, but I need you to know that I never wanted to do that to you.” Billy says softly, leaning in so that you can hear him.

Your heart squeezes even more, and you finally look up at him. There’s not much on his face that gives away his earnesty, only a look in his eye that begs you to believe him.

“Did everything turn out okay?” You ask, concerned.

He presses his lips together, nodding.

You look back at the note again.

“I guess if there had to be a reason for you to leave, that’s a good one.”

His hand clenches tightly into a fist before you watch his hand reach across to hover over yours. There’s a moment of hesitation before he touches you.

His large hand covering yours tingles almost instantly. His fingers are purposeful in their subtle motion. You watch his thumb sway over your skin.

You think about turning your hand upward, about the way his palm would feel against yours, like a fire that can’t go out.

But all you can do is think about it, too afraid in the moment to actually act, your chest squeezing as you struggle to decide what you want from him.

“Come on, you should meet Agent Madani. It’ll help you feel better to know she’s on the case.”

You smile, nodding your head slowly.

Agent Madani is gorgeous.

It’s definitely not the first thing you should be thinking when you see her, except that you couldn’t logically think of anything else with the way she looks.

She extends her hand out to you in greeting when you’re near.

“Dinah Madani, Homeland.” she says, and you shyly shake her hand, introducing yourself in turn.

“Stalking isn’t specifically handled by Homeland, but I’ll pass the information down to the relevant authorities. This is really just a favour to Billy.” She explains, inclining her head in his direction.

You wonder briefly if they’ve dated. The answer is probably yes.

“I do have some questions for you, about the pictures. Do you mind?”

You suck in a deep breath. Her casualness about the situation helps you.

“Not at all, go ahead.” You encourage.

“Do you have any idea which one of these are most recent?” She says, waving her hand over the photos spread out on your counter.

You examine them closely, immediately picking out the photo of you standing in front of Billy’s home.

“This one was taken Sunday I think.” You answer, pointing at it. You tilt your head, remembering the moment, your most desperate, you think, where you’d given up on calling and texting, going straight to his front door.

You keep your eyes on it, not daring to look up at him, afraid of the pathetic way you probably appear to him.

Dinah nods, making note.

“Okay, I’m gonna bag these up for analysis, and I definitely don’t recommend you staying here. Is there a friend you can crash with?” She asks.

“She’ll stay with me.” Billy supplies, and you really avoid looking at anyone in the room, pretending to find the invasive photos of yourself more interesting than the silent conversation going on between Billy and Agent Madani.

Dinah hits him with an angry stare as soon as you’re not looking.

Billy knows what it’s for. Saying anything about Frank was largely considered a bad idea. Bears were a popular target for hunters, their ability to withstand harsh situations meant that they were always stepping in to protect shifters that couldn’t protect themselves. Bears never turned from a fight, and in turn, protecting bear communities was priority one to all shifters. To take down one bear, was to also take down the hundreds they would protect from harm’s way.

It was no question why Dinah would be upset at him mentioning Frank to you.

But Billy didn’t care. He’d said as little as he possibly could, and you needed to know that he’d had a damn good reason for not staying that night. He needed you to understand that you were his highest priority now.

So, with that in mind, he keeps his gaze calm on the were-cheetah angrily staring at him.

Dinah turns to you after Billy’s little reveal that you’ll be staying with him. She dips into her wallet and produces a card.

“In case you want a different place to crash, give me a call.” Dinah says, extending her card to you.

The predator growls loudly inside his head, drowning out all his thoughts for a brief moment. No way would you be staying anywhere else than with him.

He has a self indulgent moment, where he thinks about seeing you just as you wake up. He curls his hands into tight fists at his sides. How was he going to be able to keep himself in check with you in such close proximity? Was he strong enough to look at you, and not take you into his arms?

He didn’t think he was strong enough now, as he watches you walk back to your room to continue packing.

Billy’s place is bare in a way that takes you a moment to realise that there’s nothing of substance used to decorate.

With a mix between blue and grey, the walls of his home stand solitary of anything besides mirrors, that help to make the place seem just a little bit bigger than it really is. As you step in, you’re met with a living room space on your left, the stone grey couches complimenting the walls easily.

There’s a vintage feel to his place, hardwood floors, with the bannister of the stairs made of some old winding wood, the doors are framed with articulate designs, which make you feel like you’re in a timeless space.

He places your bags gently on said couches, and you follow suit with the small bag of personal items in your hand.

“I’ll show you around a little bit.” He says, barely meeting your eye.

“Okay.” You respond, your voice feeling louder than normal.

The lower floor has a gym, and somehow a swimming pool. The deeper in you move, the less antiquated things feel, and the more modern. It’s not too noticeable to the untrained eye, but you manage to identify what’s new from what’s old.

You stare at the pool in open-mouthed surprise. The ceiling dotted with many tiny lights, giving the impression of a night sky above the water.

“Holy shit, this room is pretty cool.” You murmur, taking a few steps in, admiring the plants that surround most edges of the pool.

“Thanks, I designed this myself, I really wanted something that felt like the forest. I even have a rain setting.”

You turn to watch him move into the room, and tap on a small LED screen. After a few more taps, it begins to rain right above the pool.

“Woah.” You say, feeling a desperate urge to just shed your clothes and jump right in, the rushing sound of the rain tingles your ears pleasantly.

“You’re welcome to use it whenever you like.”

You turn to look at Billy, your stomach flipping with all the thoughts running through your head. You think about the way he kissed you.

He takes a deep breath, looking away, making a few more taps to stop the artificial rain.

He takes you upstairs next, showing you to a guest bedroom near the front of his home, where you can see the cars passing by on the street, but no sound of them reaches your ears because he’s soundproofed the room for comfort.

Beside your room is his office, and then across from that is a sitting space with a TV. When you look out of the windows here, you can see your building, and you realise that this window looks right into your bedroom.

With absent minded realisation, you acknowledge that this is the window he was standing in, that night when he-

You gulp, feeling your body flush with heat.

You study the window frame, trying to memorise it, trying to imagine Billy standing in this very spot, stroking his magnificent cock, head tilted back… moans that echo through your head from the night you spend together… the way he probably looked- maybe with sweat beading on his skin-

You blink, mouth parted, breaths harsh, trying to rein yourself in, your clit throbbing at the very thought. You swear you could come from just the idea of him alone.

He’s standing behind you, and you hope that you keep a calm, neutral expression on your face when you turn back to him.

His eyes on you make you flutter, you feel like a pair of wings, anxiously flittering under his warm gaze. You find it hard to maintain eye contact.

“You have a nice place.” You whisper quietly, glancing up at him for only a moment.

Billy can smell your arousal.

Notes of sweet strawberries in the air, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, tries to reorient himself.

He’s growing used to fighting the predator inside himself by now, that demands he scoop you into his arms and kiss you till your eyes glaze over from the bliss.

He thinks about it, thoroughly, he’d walk up to you, pin your body against the window so that you can’t slip by him, cup the back of your head and press his mouth to yours. He’d sigh in relief, his cock slowly starting to swell as your hands would grip his biceps, trailing up and into his hair. He considers what taking you against the window would be like, only being pulled from his thoughts when you speak.

“Wait, I’m not done showing you around.” He says smoothly, extending his hand for you to take.

He watches you look down at his hand and something like surprise covers your features. He considers he might be pushing it, and he begins to retract the offer of holding his hand.

He doesn’t get far before your hand is slipping into his, giving him a reassuring squeeze that feels like it goes right to his heart.

He tries not to overdo it, turning and guiding you.

A little path down from the kitchen and you both reach another bedroom.

“This is mine.” He says, his voice sending waves of desire through you.

You blink in amazement at the room.

Dark, viridian walls, a four poster bed with midnight black sheets, you tilt your head and admire the ambience the room mimics. Floating shelves that look like rocks and a couple of lamps in the shape of mushrooms.

And yet still, barely any personal items lying around.

You can count them all in one hand, a few worn books on his nightstand that you trace your fingers curiously over, a watch that’s no doubt triple your salary, and a t-shirt dropped on the bed as if he was in a rush to leave.

Before he came to you, you realise.

“You don’t have a lot of personal items lying around.” You think aloud.

“I’ve heard that before. I just don’t have that many sentimental things.”

You try to smother a fond smile.

“I have the movie ticket stubs from the first time I saw a movie by myself.”

“I hate crowded theatres.”

“I have pictures of Amy and Dani and me at each other’s birthdays.”

“I have Frank’s dog tags?”

You giggle, turning to him.

“I guess that counts. Maybe you have sentimental items in your own way.”

“Maybe I do.”

You want to sit in his bed, instead you settle for touching the sheets, wondering what sinking into them would feel like, absentmindedly, you take a deep yawn.

“You should get some sleep.” Billy suggests from behind you. You look back at him.

“I’ll show you the rest of my place tomorrow.”

You let out a slow sigh, nodding, before heading to his door.

“Goodnight, Billy.” You say softly.

“Sweet dreams.” He answers.

When you leave his room, you find yourself wide awake again.

After a quick shower, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out why you’d felt so sleepy in his room, and so wide awake in this one.

You wonder what being next to him again would feel like. His warm skin and his deep breathing, right into your ear, spreading tingles over your skin. You need him, you realise, you need him in every way one person needs another. The only way you’d be relaxed now, is thinking about him beside you.

You only notice you’re asleep when you dream of him.

He’s sitting on the couch outside of his office when you find him. Billy looks up at you with a smile as you approach.

You don’t say a word, climbing onto his lap and resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the peace he radiates seep into you.

The serenity turns into something more when he kisses your neck.

You hum, feeling his hand drift into your hair, fingers on your scalp to ease your stress.

“Despite how much I ache for you,” He whispers, “Right now, I just want to make you feel safe.”

You sigh, letting your shoulders slump in peace.

“If there’s anyone that could do it. It’s you.” You reply, “Billy I- I feel so much for you.”

He says your name on a soft breath.

“I know it’s fast and probably insane but more and more I can’t stop thinking that… you’re so right, and I wonder- I worry- if I’m right for you.”

Suddenly, he disappears from under you. Vanishes into thin air.

You look around, calling his name in confusion.

In the window, something catches your attention.

You stand, worry in your chest, fear as you approach, your dream consciousness is too curious to deny peeking out of his apartment window.

You can see your bedroom, the curtains have been pulled open, you tilt your head in confusion, knowing that the last time you looked out of this window, your curtains were drawn.

In the haze of the night, you can just make out the shape of your bed, lilac sheets that do not look quite right, as if you’re seeing it from an angle you’ve never seen before.

Still, there’s a seed of fear inside of you, something is off about what you’re looking at. Your curtains sway in the breeze.

Fear seals itself into your bones when a dark, unfamiliar figure stands in your window, looking back at you.

You don’t realise you’ve jerked awake until the crash of falling glass meets your ears.

You sit up in fright, looking over the edge of the bed to see that you’ve knocked over the glass of water that was on the nightstand.

Your breathing is shallow, still trying to process the last few moments of your dream when the door swings open startling you.

His hair is fluffy and askew, his beard still a little too long and his body bare save for a pair of loose pants.

Your heart is still slamming into your ribcage, and breathing is a task, but you still try to speak.

“I’m fine,” You gasp, “Bad dream.”

You hunch over, pressing your hand to your chest as you hear him moving around. Everytime you close your eyes, you see the silhouette of someone you don’t know, in your private space, looking at you. Unsettled, your heart pounds, your body betraying you with the way you tremble.

Billy grabs a spare towel from the adjoining bathroom and places it on the floor beside the bed to soak up the spilled water.

You startle when you feel him beside you in the next moment.

He cups your face, urging you to look up at him. For a moment, your still dreaming brain swears he’s going to kiss you. It helps you calm down a little more, though the fear still spears through your chest.

“Wanna sleep in my bed?” He asks softly.

You don’t even think about it, nodding eagerly.

He doesn’t hesitate to slide his arm under your knees, and lift you easily. His strength distracts you even more from your fright.

“I can walk.” You argue meekly.

“There’s glass all over.” He responds, something of an excuse more than anything else.

You sigh, relaxing against him, when he walks past his sitting area and kitchen, you close your eyes and bury your face in his chest, too afraid of what you might see.

You wait patiently till the sound of his footsteps change, from the echo of a large room to the muted footfalls of the rug in his bedroom before you can open your eyes again.

He’s gentle, placing you on his bed carefully, you miss the feeling of his skin, looking up at him with a mix of anxiety and drowsiness.

“I’m scared.” You whisper to him, too vulnerable to worry about how you appear to him.

His eyes are filled with something- molten and warm, concern and understanding.

“Want some water?” Billy offers, and you nod absentmindedly.

You find the strength to be okay with him leaving the room, turning your head to stare at the mushroom lamp illuminating his space.

His space.

You’re suddenly aware that this is his bed, and these are his pillows, and this is where he sleeps and it brings you comfort to be in his space, taking up room.

Your mind jumps back to an image of the dark shadow, and you let out a sigh of frustration. You press the heels of your palms to your eyes, trying your hardest not to cry.

Why was this happening to you? Your thinking spirals, reminding you of all you’d been through. Your head flashes to an image of the serial killer. The fear you’d felt when you’d first noticed him, standing in the shadows, just watching you.

You can’t seem to stop it, your brain going right into the memory of being mugged, your back hitting the wall when you were pushed, the air leaving you now, just like it did then.

He calls your name, and you raise your head.

"I'm alright." You say to his silent question, reaching out to accept the glass of water from his hands and taking a cursory sip.

"Thank you." You say.

Billy sits beside you, studying you carefully while you look into the glass cupped in your palms.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks.

You sigh, shaking your head.

"There's not much to say. I'm just scared."

"Can I help?"

You look up at him with a small frown on your face.

"You're helping a lot already, I'm worried that I'm-" your voice trails off.

He moves a little closer.

"That you're-?" Billy prompts.

"That I'm too dependent on you. That you've become the person that can calm me the fastest. That if you weren't around, I might have spiraled into a panic attack."

"There's nothing wrong with needing help." He supplies, and you nod your head to agree with him, a small frown tugging at your mouth.

"I still feel like a burden though, I'm sorry."

He finally get comes in closer, taking the glass away from you, placing it onto the nightstand beside you. You look up at him in curious surprise when he settles himself into the space beside you.

He reaches for you, encouraging you to the his hand. You let him pull you closer, wondering what he's doing.

He pulls you into the space beside him, your head resting on his shoulder, your body tucked into his side.

"I know how you feel. I've felt like a burden before."

"Yeah? Will you tell me about it?"

"Well, a good one is that time I got shot. No military training really prepares you for how much that shit hurts."

You smile at his emphasis.

"Frank and I were pulling of some impossible shit when it happened, behind enemy lines somewhere stealing intel or something- the how is not really relevant. But the bullet had been dipped in poison and by all means, Frank had had every reason to leave me behind."

Billy remembers it, the sound of gunfire from the hunters behind them as they'd been escaping. One lucky bullet laced with snake venom and he was basically dead.

"Frank had tossed me over his shoulder, and kept running. He'd put me down somewhere safe, and went back for the antidote."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise and admiration for his friend.

"When he came back. I told him how dumb he was. He should have let me die, he risked the intel that would have saved countless lives… for me."

You study his face, the far away look in his eye as if he's right back wherever he was the first time.

"Frank's only response was that he'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"He likes you." You respond.

"Yeah, I guess he saw something in me that was worth keeping around." He finally looks down at you, "And maybe, to him in the moment, he didn't see me as a burden."

He cups your cheek, thumb caressing the lines of your face.

"I understand now how he felt, cause I don't see you as a burden. I see you as someone who just needs a little help."

You let out a sigh, reaching your arm across his chest to give him a little hug.

“I guess- you’re right. But-”

“-No buts,” he cuts you off, “I am right.”

You laugh, pressing your face to his chest, feeling drowsiness overtake you.

You take a slow breath, yawning.

“Thank you.” Is the last thing you say before closing your eyes, feeling his body with every sense you have, no longer having to imagine what he would feel like because you have him right next to you, just like you’d always hoped.

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