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freedomfireflies · 7 months

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Wake the Dead*

Summary: An iFall for Harry blurb for Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where you and Harry sneak into an abandoned cemetery at night.

And things get a little spooky.

Can be read as standalone!

Word Count: 2.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Har…Harry—”

“Shh. Gonna scare the ghosts, ladybug.”

You pout playfully while Harry grins and continues his vivacious sucking on your neck. “Har...what if we get caught?”

“Then we run.”

You whimper deep within the back of your throat, sighing when his tongue darts out to swipe under your jaw. “We’re...we're gonna be late. What if Patrick comes looking—”

“He won’t,” Harry retorts calmly, tightening his hold on your hips while continuing to grind you down against his cock. “Now hush, you’re ruining my fun.”

Left with no other choice, you oblige his request. Eyelids growing heavy with lust as you look off into the dark, empty cemetery. The sound of the wind echoes between the trees; an ominous addition to your frantic and somewhat lewd make out session. Yet despite it all…you feel at peace.

It had been Harry’s idea to come for a leisurely stroll through the cemetery in the first place. Claiming it was perfect Halloween fun – and he knew a shortcut.

But five minutes later, he had you down on his lap, his hands under your shirt, and his tongue tangled with yours.

Not that you really care to complain. You enjoy the spookiness and the secrecy. After all, you don’t always tend to get such private moments with a man whose face is plastered on almost every billboard across the world.

But in times like tonight – when it’s just you and him – you realize how badly you need them.

And how grateful you are that you texted that wrong number all those months ago.

“Har,” you whisper again, fingers tangling in his roots as you tug. “Baby, there’s cameras—”

“So?”

“So,” you exhale, “if they recognize you, you could get in trouble.”

Harry merely hums. A soft, dangerous sort of sound while his thumbs swipe beneath the swells of your breasts. “Don’t care.”

“Well…you should—”

“But I don’t,” he repeats coolly. “Only care about you.”

You feel your insides twist. “Just…don’t want you to get in trouble.”

He smirks at this. Amused with your nerves and enamored by your care. He leans back, now nudging his nose against yours. “I won’t, baby,” he whispers. “S’nothing wrong with me lovin’ on my girl, is there?”

You smile yourself. “No. But that’s not all you had in mind, is it?”

His grin grows a bit more wicked. “I don’t know. Depends.”

“On?”

“If you like an audience.”

Confused, your brows furrow.

He nods his chin toward the dark graveyard before you, gesturing at the headstones with a devious gleam in his eye. “Heard ghosts like to watch.”

Now you understand, chuckling beneath a quiet breath as you readjust yourself over his lap. “Is that right?”

“Mhm. Kinky little fuckers.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, not that I really mind,” he continues, nuzzling his way back to your neck. Dancing a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. “Kind of feel bad for them, y’know? Bet they never see any action anymore.”

Your lashes flutter. “Yeah…”

“We’d probably be doing them a kindness.”

“Mmm…”

“Let ‘em watch…let them listen…let them feed off your pretty, little screams.”

He suddenly tugs on your hips, forcing your cunt against his hardened cock, and it makes a breath hitch in your throat.

“Guess…guess you’re right,” you exhale, head rolling to the side. “S’only fair.”

He smiles. “Guess it is.”

You whine again as his cold hands smooth across the expanse of your stomach, easily slipping down to your waistband. “Har…”

“What?” It’s a gentle hum but filled with concern as his eyes flick to yours. “We don’t have to, baby, I promise. We can leave right now and go back to the hotel, yeah? Finish what we started there. Honest.”

It’s a kind thought. Considerate and so very Harry that it makes your heart wrench.

But it’s not what you want, and you begin to giggle quietly as you shake your head and lace your fingers around the back of his neck. “No, I don’t wanna go. Want you to fuck me – right here – and let all the ghost’s watch.”

The energy shifts instantaneously as he bursts out into a wide, excitable grin that fills his whole face. Putting those familiar dimples on display as you kiss him hard and with an overwhelming rush of adoration.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, returning to his work of slipping your zipper down. “Okay, but we gotta be quick, yeah? Don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Wouldn’t care if I did,” you admit, fingers fumbling with his belt. “Just wanna feel you, Har—”

“I know,” he breathes, moaning some when his thumb finally finds your clit. “Shit, I know, ladybug. Got you all worked up, hm? Like it when I tease you, don’t you?”

You can say nothing, instead nodding again as you pull his cock from his boxers. He’s hard and heavy in your hand. The tip slightly swollen and sticky with pre-cum as you work him in your palm.

“Fuck—” His forehead drops to your collarbone, lips buried into the skin not covered by your sweater. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that—”

“Well, maybe I wanna tease you, too,” you retort. Watching the way he twitches between your fingers. “Know you like it when I edge you.”

He makes another noise – virile and animalistic. Tortured in a sense and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “And you think I’m the sadist in the relationship.”

You smirk. “We share.”

After a few more coy pumps, you release him, and move to wrangle your jeans further down your thighs. Creating a bit more room and space before he’s bringing his cock to you.

Steadying your stance above his lap, you rise up onto your knees, and allow yourself to sink down onto him. Slow and easy – enough for you to both feel every second.

And it’s everything – a rush of endorphins and euphoria that transcends this one singular moment. He’s the perfect stretch. No matter how many times you take him, it feels like the first. Enough to knock the wind from your lungs and make your mind grow fuzzy.

Once you’re finally sat, your arms loop around his neck, holding him to you. Keeping him warm inside your pussy as he curses and presses a kiss to your throat.

“There you go,” he murmurs, hands cementing to your sides. “You okay, baby?”

You offer another weak nod. “Yeah…yeah, m’good.”

“Good girl. Do you want my help or do you wanna do it yourself?” he asks softly, taking a moment to glance over your expression.

You suck in a needy gasp for air and glance down. “Wanna…wanna do it. I can do it, I swear.”

He chuckles gently before loosening his grip. “Okay, lovie. But I’m right here, yeah? Do whatever you want me to do.”

You dip down and smash your lips against his. Kissing him to showcase your gratitude before you begin to roll your hips and set a steady pace.

It’s relaxed at first. Enough to ease you both into it – create a desperate need and worsen the ache until you’re both whining, frantic messes.

And he allows you to create your own rhythm. Never rushing you or pulling you the way he wants. He merely wants to enjoy you. Enjoy the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your greedy cunt that sucks him in so well.

The cemetery has grown quiet. Almost too quiet, save for your anxious pants and pathetic whimpers. Occasionally a rogue crow will swoop from tree to tree, but it only makes Harry smirk. As if entertained by the reminder of where you are.

You feel his fingers move for your nipples. Tweaking them between the cold pads of his thumbs before he’s forcing your sweater higher so he can attach his mouth to the left one.

His tongue is warm – a stark contrast to the frigid outside air. But it’s perfect. Sensual and erotic as he sucks you into his mouth and moans.

Your mind falls into an exhilarated haze as you begin to bounce on him. Faster and faster, despite the ache in your joints. Needing to chase after that rush and the sounds he makes.

“So good, baby,” he praises between devious licks and harsh gropes. “Just like that. S’it feel good, lovie? My cock making you feel good?”

“Yes…yes,” you whine, head dropping back as he nips at the skin of your breast. “Harry, please—”

“What, hm?” He flattens his tongue against the aggravated skin. “What do you want, ladybug?”

You make another noise that becomes lost in a gasp, struck with a rush of pleasure from the way his cock strokes against your spongy walls.

“Is that it?” he asks, almost proudly. “Was that your little spot, honey? S’that what you need?”

You nod again and work to find it once more – angling your rolls until you feel it. “Shit…Har…feel so fucking good—”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Right now, let ‘em watch?”

You mewl despite his teasing. Ghosts or not, there’s something tantalizing about the idea of him doing this to you in public. No matter how crass, there’s something about it that feels almost sweet. About the idea that Harry Styles – America’s Sweetheart – would be willing to taint his reputation and throw away his anonymity just for you.

His large palms suddenly move for your ass, cupping you firmly before beginning to guide you a bit faster. Seemingly overcome by the need for release the closer he gets.

“Shit there you go…there you go, honey, fuck.” He’s groaning now – almost incoherent as his brows crease and his teeth grit. He’s so beautiful when he’s being fucked. “M’gonna cum, baby. M’gonna cum…and you’re gonna take it, yeah? Gonna take me in your pretty pussy?”

You stumble over a gasp and scratch your nails down his shoulders. Allowing him to move you exactly the way he needs as he begins to yank you all the way down. Burying himself inside your cunt until you feel him twitch.

“Keep going,” he exhales before it twists into a moan. “Fuck, keep going, lovie, m’almost there—”

“Please,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. “Shit, please, Har. Cum inside me, please—”

“God, baby. Gonna, I promise. Fucking fill you—”

“Please—”

“And you’re gonna take me, aren’t you? Keep me inside this sweet little cunt all goddamn night, yeah?”

“Harry, please—”

“Shit—”

It hits him then. Suddenly and with no warning as he releases a lewd groan and empties himself into your pussy. Wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you against his lap while he fills you with each drop he has to offer.

It makes your fucking head spin, a warmth blossoming in your stomach as you weave your fingers in his roots and pulls his head against your heart.

However, he doesn’t settle in your embrace for long, instead moving his touch down to your clit to work you toward your own release. Pinching and rubbing in small, practiced circles until you’re practically screaming. Unraveling by his hand only moments later as your pleasured sounds echo around the graveyard. Loud enough to wake the dead.

“There you go,” he murmurs, and it’s sweet like honey. Deep and comforting as he kisses your neck. “Oh, baby. Fucking soaking me, aren’t you? Can feel you all over my thighs, lovie. S’fucking perfect. Aren’t you?”

You feel your lips stretch into a lazy smile as you finally manage to catch your breath and slump against his strong frame. Allowing him to hold you up as you both succumb to the quiet night.

You feel his fingers stroke against the skin of your hips. Another quiet reminder of his adoration that makes your stomach flip.

“Did so good,” he praises, nuzzling his nose against your jaw in an unspoken attempt at asking for a kiss. He grins when you give it to him. “See? S’more fun with an audience, isn’t it?”

You laugh, eyes trailing over to the row of tombstones just beside you. “Speaking of which…do you know what a ghost’s favorite cheese is?”

Instantly, a grin is exploding across his face. “What?”

You take a beat to build up the anticipation, fighting a smirk as you whisper, “Ghoul-da.”

He groans, amused and exasperated as he tightens his arms around your waist. “God, that was your worst yet.”

“What? You aren’t scared stiff?”

“Fuck off—”

“Are you gonna boo me?”

“Ladybug—”

“Well, you better fasten your sheet belt, cause there’s more where that came from—”

“All right,” he huffs playfully, tugging you closer until you squeal. “You win. And you’re insufferable.”

You chuckle. “Maybe, but…you love me.”

To this, he smiles, and your heart feels warm and fuzzy as he guides his lips to yours.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

~ iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lydiarry @yoruse @lomlolivia @kkr102 @gills-lounge @sicklscream @white-wolf-buckaroo @brooklynbelle @stylesmoonlight12 @itjustkindahappenedreally @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

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schsas · 9 months

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peacock gabe design by lovely @wormzandgutz and butterfly dress bullshit by me 😔👍

#miraculous ladybug #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #im not ashamed to admit that i have problems #nathalie sancoeur #emilie agreste #harry clown #my art

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kebbopulos · 1 year

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I FINALLY DID IT

After hours of work I have compiled a chart of Tumblr's top 100 ships according to Tumblr's "Year in Review 2022" ships and organized them by fandom.

So! Here's how much of the top 100 each Fandom takes up!

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ladyofthenoodle · 10 months

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wang fu gabriel agreste, you were named after the two bravest men i know…

#miraculous ladybug #ml recreation #tw harry potter reference

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shortmexicangirl · 10 months

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adrien’s miraculous conception has me thinking

#miraculous ladybug #nathalie is sam as the real love of emilie’s life #duusu is bill as the ‘biological’ father #and gaybriel agreste is harry (clown? coincidence i think not) because. layers.#mamma mia #ml representation #ml spoilers #i guess??? the fact that this image could be classed as a spoiler is hilarious icl

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xhanisai · 9 months

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You know, his hairstyle in the film when he was younger gives me Snape vibes...

#ml spoilers #ml awakening spoilers #miraculous awakening spoilers #miraculous awakening #tw harry potter #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #i wouldn't be surprised if movie gabemelie were sort of inspired by lily and snape

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jellysnail-draws · 6 months

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This is all I have to post after ten years of silence

Could Harry make a return in the alt universe with a miraculous too?? How cool would that be xD

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #Harry clown #is that fr his name tho💀#betterfly #miraculous au #hesperia

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holespoles · 11 days

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The Nature Table

Harry Wingfield (Going to School, 1959)

#Harry Wingfield #illustrations #book illustrations #ladybug book #children's books

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smallandangry24 · 1 year

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Welcome back to Radical Goodness! I’ve decided to make a series so *drum roll* Female characters edition!!

I wanted to add more, but that's what the series is for😅 Let me know if you have any additions! :D

Here's the links to the other parts:

radical goodness part 1 | radical goodness part 2 | radical goodness part 3 | radical goodness part 4

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year

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Please excuse me, but the links on your masterlists aren't working. Maybe you could redo the links?

Of course, I don't know why they're not working and I'll fix them soon, but for now I'll leave the links here, I hope it works this time:

Yandere BTS Masterlist

Yandere BLACKPINK Masterlist

Yandere ITZY Masterlist

Yandere Stray Kids Masterlist

Yandere Greek Mythology Masterlist

Yandere Egyptian Mythology Masterlist

Yandere Historical Characters Masterlist

Yandere TVD/TO Masterlist

Yandere House of the Dragon Masterlist

Yandere Percy Jackson Masterlist

Yandere Harry Potter Masterlist

Yandere Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir Masterlist

Yandere Attack on Titan Masterlist

Yandere Marvel Masterlist

Yandere The Sandman Masterlist

Yandere Outlander Masterlist

Yandere Wednesday Masterlist

Love Letters Masterlist

New Masterpost here

If any of the links aren't working (within each masterlist), let me know. Last time I checked just now they are all working fine.

~ Lady L

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1800titz · 1 month

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LADYBUG MAN

“Hello.”

Jana twists her head over her chin and double-takes. There’s a tall man stood at the rear-passenger door of the sun-bleached corvette — presumably, the owner — and her six-year old is staring him down, fingertips mucked up in pollen and the hood of the car coated in naked evidence; trails of sticky fingerprints dragged in lines down the scarlet bonnet.

“I like your car,” she hears her say, and twists to see a twinge of a smile coat the man’s mouth.

“Thank you.”

The door creaks and clicks.

“—Sorry.”

The man glances in her direction as she approaches — lingers in the trail of emerald when she grasps onto Dixie’s hand, half-apologetic and half-amused, dusting the palm of her hand over the pads of the child’s fingers.

“Sorry, she — likes to …touch everything and talk to everyone.”

Jana spares another glance upward.

He doesn’t look like the image her mind had conjured as the owner of the vehicle. Maybe it’s because her brain wasn’t built to draw up a man of his stature from scratch, borrowing figments of stolen faces stowed away. That’s what a mind does, isn’t it? It borrows. Sculpts from what’s already stored and etched into folds of memory. She’d remember a man like him, memoir mirrored and tucked back behind her skull.

It’d go something like this:

Handsome, tall, wide; firm with muscle layered by cotton and denim. Good looking with his clean curls, haloed by the rays of the sun, jade like the evergreen foliage in the distance seated in his sockets. Good looking, despite the silvery knick under his eye, marred tissue sculpted across the cresting apple of his cheekbone. Good looking, despite a thin scar indenting over the slope of his nose. Pocks catch the sunlight and glint back. Most prominently, Jana notes his ear — the left one; swollen, injured cartilage that had been left untreated years ago and settled into a deformity that his tendrils tuck behind.

His mouth exposes nice teeth, straight and ivory, nearly unfitting with his brutishly visible ailments. His massive arm is cradling a crate of tomatoes, nonchalant like the one-handed feat of strength is a casual skill.

“S’alright.”

He’s santalum and cardamom musk, spuming seemingly from his pores — a clean scent that catches on the breeze and traverses, even through the void of empty space between them (a proper two feet, surpassing the respectful six-inches-for-Jesus rule. It wafts in the zephyr). Who are you, mystique. What is your little life?

She’d remember a man like him. Everyone knows every face in the poky expanse of her little county, and this man isn’t familiar.

He sets the crate into the backseat of his convertible, stretching over the boundary of the door, aided in the lack of its roofing.

“Does your car go fast?” Dixie chirps.

The rays bask on the inching of his simper, too, face downcast.

“Not really. It’s a little too old.”

Talc flickers from the bleached leather coating the interior, to the kid, and then up to her mother, where it stays. He peers at the bonnet, tipping his head as he nears it.

“You’ve done some artwork,” the man observes, using that voice utilized with kids — the kind that implies every half-assed attempt is an impressive feat. There’s a lopsided rendition of something decorating his hood, curved lines enclosing blotched stippling. “What’ve you drawn there?”

“A ladybug.”

“A ladybug,” and then, without missing a beat, “That’s quite good.”

Jana eyes him, and then glances down — Dixie beams up at the stranger like he’s hung the moon.

Slowly, he drags a pointed index through the sheath of pollen beside her artwork. His knuckles are firm, callused scarring stretching over every joint; hard like a rigid ballpoint pen coated in flesh. The tip of his forefinger circles and spots. Dots and drags. His eyes flick up, and then back down to the murky artwork. When he takes the pad of his digit away, vermillion shaping through the ragweed sculpts a pair. Two ladybugs, side by side, one to match the other. There’s a lip-sealed smile cresting at his mouth when the man nudges his chin toward the addition, thumbing at the residue over his callused index. Warm, like basking in sunshine.

“There. It’s got a friend now.”

#ladybug man #teaser #just something #:p #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc

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cjsmalley · 4 months

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Wished Away 8:

“Mom, Dad, help,” Dean said, holding a baby out.

A whirlwind of activity followed.

“He is Nephilim,” Castiel declared, having inspected the boy, “though I cannot tell his true parentage. It is being…hidden from me.”

The pediatricians took over as soon as the angel stepped back.

“Nephilim,” Danny said slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “isn’t that half-angel or something?”

“Precisely,” Castiel said just as slowly, measuring his words like they were his last rations, “They are…it is Forbidden for angels to lay with mortals. The creation of Nephilim is even more taboo as the first, the original, were monsters more often than not. It is an intentional act, to create Nephilim; the angelic parent must give a portion of their own Grace to the child during conception.”

“So they purposely knocked someone up then ding-dong ditched the kid,” Dean growled.

“Perhaps they heard that we are romantically involved, Dean,” Castiel offered, “and hoped we would take in the child as our own.”

“Well, of course we are,” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes at his angel who shook his head fondly, “I’ve already picked out a name too. A good human name.”

“Oh?”

“Jack, after Grandpa Jack. Unless, you have a name?”

“Perhaps…James, after James Novak?”

“Hmm…Jack James…James Jack…JJ…no, definitely Jack James. I like it, Cas.”

“Well, little Jack is healthy as far as we can tell,” Doctor Peterson joined the little huddle, “every scan we can perform came up normal, perfectly within range for his age group.”

Both Dean and Castiel visibly relaxed.

“We’ll get you set up,” Sam promised her son and might-as-well-be son-in-law.

A servant brought David’s old wrap and Sam showed Dean and Castiel how to wind it around their bodies to carry little Jack close to their hearts.

“Does the heart even beat?” Danny asked Castiel with interest, referring to his Vessel.

“Yes, I have kept all systems functioning as intended,” Castiel confirmed.

“Good. Because babies this young are used to heartbeats,” Danny explained as Sam worked with Dean, “they just spent nine months with their mom’s in their ears.”

“I see,” Castiel nodded, “well, Dean has assured me that I have a perfectly human sounding heartbeat.”

“What’s the likelihood that his mom was the human?” Danny asked next.

“Oh, quite likely…angels with female vessels most often shutdown the reproductive system. It would also be quite hard to hide the evidence of the gestating Nephilim. His mother likely died in childbirth; her body finally unable to handle his Angelic self.”

Danny winced; that would be a horrid way to die and he fried like a French fry.

Within hours, little Jack was all ready to go home.

Over the next few days, a room in the Bunker became a nursery and supplies loaded in.

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