#since he hadn’t found peace yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adrift-in-thyme · 9 months

Note

Not sure if you keep taking prompts, but if you do:

Boys visiting Malanya? You can make it really angsty if you know what I mean but it's optional.

Thanks for the prompt!! <33 I put all my Malanya headcanons in here lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Fic beneath the cut (also on Ao3)

Cw for animal injury

—————————-

Twilight bites out a curse. “Ilia’s gonna kill me.”

His fingers ghost Epona’s leg, following the trail of her wound. The gash is deep and jagged, an angry line of crimson.

“How bad is it?” Wild asks from just behind him. Twilight can feel his eyes upon him — his and those of the other heroes. All watching, all waiting to hear the damage.

Twilight chews his lip. “It’s bad.”

Lizalfos are not beasts to be trifled with, especially those with The Shadow’s blood in their veins. And the one that had sliced Epona’s leg had seen fit to make that fact even more clear.

He had cut it down seconds later, but the deed was already done, the injury carved in a river of red upon his loyal steed.

Epona whinnies mournfully and he looks up at her.

I’m sorry, girl.

“We’re out of fairies.” It’s Warriors now, all business despite the blood trickling down his side, and the way he leans against Time’s arm, just a bit too heavily to raise suspicions.

“Potions too,” Legend chimes in, voice hoarse and lacking its usual sharpness.

They have all come away from this latest battle worse for wear. Alive, yes, but wounded and exhausted. It was a surprise attack and a large one at that. Fighting it back had taken more energy and resources than they had had available.

Twilight closes his eyes for a moment and inhales through his nose. They’re in desperate need of healing. But with Hyrule injured as well, he can’t possibly ask him to tend to any of their little party…not even Epona. The traveler is hardly standing as it is.

“We need a Great Fairy,” Time pipes up. He turns to Wild. “Are there any near here?”

The champion thinks for a moment.

“No Great Fairies. But…there is someone similar.” He points to where a path winds between the mountains. “They’re not far from here. Just down that trail.”

A spark of hope alights within Twilight and he grasps it for dear life. “They’ll heal Epona?”

“And us?” Wind asks.

“I can’t promise they’ll heal us, but Epona?” A small grin tugs at Wild’s lips. “Definitely. They’re the Horse God, after all.”

Legend raises his eyebrows. “The Horse God?”

“Yup. The patron God of Horses. They protect them, heal them, and” —Wild swallows and averts his eyes slightly— “Sometimes they revive them. Anyway, their name’s Malanya.”

“Malanya.” Time says the name slowly, letting it roll over his tongue. “That’s an interesting name.”

There’s something strange in his voice, but Twilight doesn’t have time to unpack all that at the moment.

“Take us to them, cub,” he says, rising. He runs a hand over Epona’s muzzle and grasps her reins. “Epona can make it, right girl?”

She bumps her nose against his head in reply, warm breath blowing through his hair. A small smile sneaks onto his face.

You’re gonna be alright, Epona, he promises both her and himself. We’ll get you fixed up. Just hang on a little longer.

True to Wild’s words, the journey is a short one. But between Epona’s injuries and their own, Twilight feels like it’s drawn out into eternity. Every step is agony, every movement another chance for his steed to crumple or someone to collapse.

The monsters they meet along the way do little to help matters. Wild is quick to draw his bow, however, and he takes them out in no time. Still, it seems a miracle when at last the fountain comes into sight.

The heroes come to a halt right before the large flower bud.

“It looks like a fairy fountain,” Hyrule says, frowning. “But the magic feels different.”

Wild grins. “Oh, it’s much different than a fairy fountain, believe me. Now, you guys wait here. I just need a minute to wake them up.”

Epona lets out a small whinny and Twilight rubs her shoulder.

You did it, girl. You made it.

He watches as Wild walks onto one of the large flower petals and stands, hands on hips, waiting. For a moment everything remains the same. Fairy dust floats, and butterflies flit, and silence reigns in the clearing. Then, there’s a sound of rumbling thunder and suddenly the water in the fountain flies into the air, raining down in shimmery droplets upon the group. And from within its sparkling torrents, something large and colorful erupts.

Twilight cranes his neck, following the being as it rises higher and higher. It towers over the heroes, a strange form with the head of a horse and disembodied hands that wave to and fro. Part of him wants to be afraid, but…

He steps closer, tilting his head. There’s something interesting about this deity, something that almost draws him to them. Yet, he can’t decide what.

“Oh, it’s you again,” Malanya says, lilting tone echoing throughout the space. Their voice brings to mind the feel of riding across the plains of Hyrule, the wind in his hair, and the smell of fresh rain and spring grass in his nostrils. “Why have you come to visit? Please, do not tell me something dire has befallen another of your loyal steeds.”

Wild clears his throat. “Well, no one died this time, if that helps you feel better. But Epona” —he steps aside so the horse is in full view— “she’s hurt.”

“As are we,” Warriors pipes up from behind. “So, if you would be so kind…”

Malanya isn’t listening to him, however. They rise impossibly higher, water droplets raining from their adornments. In the next second, they’re leaning forward, trembling fingers reaching for the champion. The heroes step forward, hands flying to their weapons, bodies tensed and ready.

“You test my patience, boy!” Malanya says, and their voice booms now. “Anyone who mistreats their horses so shall feel my wrath!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Twilight sees Time go abruptly still. He shifts slightly, battle stance relaxing just a bit. And when the deity suddenly bursts out into hearty laughter, a strange expression comes onto his face.

“Come now, sheath your weapons.” A hand waves dismissively, their tone what Twilight thinks is meant to be reassuring. “I only jest.”

“We both know you’re not joking.”

It’s Time’s voice now, clear and strong, yet oddly tentative. But when the deity turns to him in a whirl of color and water, he doesn’t budge.

“What did you say?”

A smirk plays on his lips despite the strained situation.

“I said we both know you’re not joking.”

There’s a beat of silence in which the other heroes look between their unofficial leader and the deity, breath held in anticipation. And then something seems to shift in the air, a tension lifted, and Malanya laughs once more.

“You have heart, my dear hero. But, really, who asked you?”

For a split second, something like a smile enters the deity’s pupil-less eyes. It’s gone as soon as it comes, however. With another dismissive wave of a hand, they turn back to Wild.

“I sense no foul play nor evil intentions in any of you…though” —A quick glance at Time– “some among you are filled with mischief. I will heal your loyal steed, and—just this once—your own wounds.”

Malanya lifts their hands, as though preparing to conduct a concert, then sweeps their delicate fingers down and over the heroes. Twilight finds his eyes slipping closed as a breeze washes over him, born upon the wings of fairy-blessed water. Pain he hadn’t even truly registered enduring disappears like a weight leaving his shoulders. And when he opens his eyes once more he can see similar relief displayed on his brothers’ faces.

Ducking down, Twilight runs a gentle hand over the sides of Epona’s leg. But rather than the edges of a gash, his fingers brush unmarred flesh coated in a healthy layer of auburn hair.

She nickers as he rises, already nosing at his forehead, and he allows himself a smile.

“Your friendship with your horse is a strong one.” Malanya’s voice reaches him and he turns to meet their eyes. “It is a precious thing, to share such a connection with the noblest of animals. Remember that it is a two-way road. Your steed trusts you to keep her safe.”

Twilight nods, somberly. Guilt still tugs at him like a leaden weight. Too many times, he has allowed Epona to suffer. Too many times, he has failed to protect her.

I’m so sorry.

Epona nudges him, gently, and the deity chuckles.

“Your horse wishes you to know that she understands…and that all is forgiven.”

A wavering grin tugs at his lips. Twilight presses his forehead to Epona’s for a moment, then drags his gaze back to the deity.

“Thank you.”

They nod. “Now, go, continue your adventure.” Abruptly, they turn to Wild. “I hope to not see you again for a long while.”

“Rude,” Wild grumbles as he hops down from the petal and comes to stand by Twilight’s side.

Twilight pats him on the shoulder, both a comfort and a thanks. Then, he prepares to follow the other heroes as they file back onto the road.

Time lingers, however, the same odd look on his face. And when Twilight pauses to reach out to him, he realizes it is one of pain.

“You coming, old man?” he asks, gently, placing a hand on his mentor’s arm.

Time doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he looks upward to where Malanya still looms over them, gazing down at him almost expectedly.

Strange that they stayed, given how Wild claims the gods and fairies always retreat into their buds as soon as their jobs are complete.

“Before we go, I must know,” he says, and there is something in his voice Twilight seldom hears. A vulnerability reserved for moments of anguish or great joy, of bonding with his brothers or embracing Malon. "Are you…her?”

The smile enters the deity’s eyes once more, though this time there is sorrow in it.

“I was once, though only in spirit. So long as you were not at rest, neither could she be. Hence, she asked the gods for this fate, and they bestowed it upon her.”

Twilight watches Time’s face, trepidation rising fast within him. But the old man’s expression has turned steely and he can decipher nothing past the steadfast walls he has erected.

“She is gone now, however,” Malanya continues, gently. “Her spirit has faded, or perhaps merely been set free. And though parts of her remain with me to this day, I am no longer the Malon you know and love. I am merely myself – Malanya, protector, and patron God of Horses. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.”

For a long moment, silence hangs heavy. Then, right when Twilight is certain they will all be smothered beneath it, Time steps back and nods.

“Thank you,” he says, tone clipped, professional.

He is no longer Link, now. No, that barrier is back, the one even Twilight struggles to bypass, and he is the Hero of Time once more.

“We greatly appreciate all that you have done. Farewell.”

If he mourns his wife as he turns away, if he ponders the mysteries behind Malanya’s words as he begins to walk, he gives no indication. But Twilight can hear it on the breeze as they start along the path, a whisper, a cry.

“Farewell, my love. Farewell.”

And when a tear trickles down Time’s cheek, he sees it.

Even so, Twilight would never dream of saying a word.

98 notes · View notes

chastiefoul · 28 days

Text

—finally giving up on your unrequited love ft. alhaitham

a/n: ouch i hurt myself writing this. wc: 1.6k words of yapping about unrequited feelings

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

it seemed like a blessing once, like acceptance. the slightest open of the door, thinking you could invite yourself in and he’d embrace that fact. but as his apathy remain constant and unchanging, you’ve come to realization—an embarassing one at that.

that indifference, that should’ve been a sign for you; alhaitham will never return your feelings.

a stroll a day, keeps the stressful thoughts away.

however today’s walk is just not doing it for you, once you decided to wake up from the dreamland you thought you’ve been living in. a faraway and unrealistic vision of a life where you end up together with the akademiya scribe. an exaggerated sigh escaped you at your own daydreaming. usually by now you’d be quick on your feet to visit the scribe, however the overdue revelation you had last night made you finally think twice before doing it. and only because of that now you’d realized just how much of your life was centered on the grey-haired man, which was a scary discovery, knowing just exactly how little you mattered to his.

you found an empty bench mid-walk, immediately sitting on it. you leaned back, both of your hands holding your weight as you look above. the sky was clear that day, but your mind was clearer, as if a thick fog has finally been lifted.

seriously, what have you been doing all this time? giving your all to someone who wanted none of you. alhaitham’s curt nod, his brief and short responses really should’ve been a clue as to how he felt about you. yet you kept being stubborn, and sometimes hope was human’s greatest enemy. what should have been a bare minimum gesture he did, your mind managed to twist it into something more; clinging to it like a water on a desert. when it turned out that was exactly all there was to it—a mirage.

you chuckled sadly. even remembering those pathetic displays, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret having this feeling towards alhaitham. those moments where you’d steal a glance at him and felt like the world was okay. you would not allow yourself to forget that as you became more selfish, wanting him to look at you and feel the same. but here you were, reluctantly learning to accept the fact that he may never does.

suddenly a shadow loomed over you, shielding you from the sunlight you didn’t realize was so bright.

a familiar blond invaded your vision. “(y/n)?” he called out unsure, not expecting you to be there. “oh hi there, kaveh,” you lightly said, as if your heavy train of thoughts hadn’t existed at all. you adjusted your sitting position, shifting yourself to the side as you spare an empty spot beside you for him to sit. kaveh swiftly took your silent offer up, making himself as comfortable as he could on the wooden bench. “i spotted you from afar and you seemed a little troubled, hopefully i was wrong?” the ever so kind kaveh spoke up, and you couldn’t help but smile. kaveh always felt like a friend more than alhaitham ever was, albeit knowing him after you got to know the scribe. you weren’t even sure if the grey-haired man would ever mention even a word about his roommate if it wasn’t for you hanging wround on his office on a peaceful lunch break when the fuming blond barged in and yell at him about a key.

as it turned out, it’s a known fact that most people became quiet irritable when it comes to being in contact with the curt and aloof scribe, since kaveh has been nothing but a good friend since the day he gave you a weird look about wanting to get close to the acting grand master.

“it’s kind of complicated to say,” you started, thinking of the words as you went on. “let’s just say i’m having a quite bittersweet moment.”

you rested your gaze on the bustling street in front of you. he nodded in reply, “i’m guessing it’s more bitter than it is sweet?” he asked genuinely as you smiled once more despite not feeling a drop of mirth. “i suppose so,” you replied curtly, not knowing what to say to his keen observation. keen and exactly correct.

it’s the kind of bitterness that lingered. a kind of flavor you’d expected, since you’re the one who put it in. still, when that sharp taste hit your tongue you couldn’t help but flinch. after all, things don’t stop affecting you even though you saw it coming from miles away. you just hoped the sweetness will get stronger overtime, overpowering as it wash down the unpleasant aftertaste.

kaveh mirrored your smile in return except his looked particularly patronizing, as if he could sense your helplessness.

“will you tell me what happened?” his voice sounded gentle, a care you’ve never heard from the man you’d give a limb to for him to say things along that line. how do you even begin to answer such a simple question? nothing happened, and that’s why it was the problem. the fact that you’re the only one who’s mulling all over this, being so conflicted to what he thought must be nothing. a pain so overwhelming that’s swirling all over your chest while his biggest inconvenient that day was probably a typo made in a document made by a lousy student.

the whole thing just sounded so... pathetic.

“nothing happened... it’s just, i have decided to finally give up on something,” you try your best to sound nonchalant despite having no bravery to look at him, scared that he didn’t look like he believed you.

“well, i might know a thing or two about it. sometimes when an architecture project is too... unreasonable,” kaveh paused, the word tasted like a sour lime on his mouth. “there’s no way but to give it up. especially if you take a step back as take the whole picture from many aspects; in my case, there are budget, location, materials, and so on. there would definitely be some regret about letting go especially an ambitious task, however i think many of my past-self would really like to give the present-me a big gratitude for not forcing it through,” he rambled on, despite having no idea what were you referring on. “even sometimes, the reward was just not worth the risk, you know?” he ended it at that, throwing the question at you.

you swallowed on nothing, but you needed that to let out a reply.

“yes, i do know.”

“yeah? does this mean in your case, whatever you were fighting for was not worth it in the end?”

oh, that’s the worst part. you knew, you knew it with your heart, body and soul that it would be so worth it if there’s an outcome, a scenario where alhaitham might return your feelings. oh it would be so worth it. you could smile, just imagining how worth it would it be.

but that was all it was. an unattainable imagination. an ending that you couldn’t allow yourself to be so cocky to reach.

kaveh waited for your respond patiently, but when the silence had gone for too long he moved his stare to you. he widened his eyes, his gaze softened.

“i don’t think you’re as okay as you made yourself to be,” he said softly, as you felt your cheeks wet by the uninvited tears, running along freely across your face. yet, you couldn’t make an effort to stop them, your heart knew more than anyone you needed that. to feel the sadness, to recognize it.

to let go of the fact that alhaitham will never return your feelings.

kaveh was just quiet as you sobbed quietly, putting a handkerchief silently at the space between you both. there is no empty consolation, no comforting words, no small pats on the back. there’s just silence, a little safe bubble for you to cry in without people coming over to you and asked why.

giving up is such a funny thing, how could doing it hurt more than to keep trying even though you received no sign of reciprocity at all? but you knew the answer of that.

when there hasn’t been a rejection, it’s in everyone’s nature to have hope. a hope that there’s a chance of obtaining something you’ve wished for. a chance that something could happen.

giving up means finality. a state of accepting an outcome you hadn’t wanted. a result you never asked for. an ending where all that’s left was what should have and what could have. a harsh reality people could only accept as it dangled the possibilities and visions of what ‘could have happened’ if you’d just kept trying right in front of your eyes.

like chasing your own shadow; a fun thing to do when you’re a child, but now it’s just a fitting metaphor, reminding you of a fool’s way who love in such a pathetic way.

but now it’s definitely a curse. after all, anything that has to do with love was not indifference.

it was never, indifference.

---

the urge to write this in alhaitham pov........................ should i?

#genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader

1K notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 4 months

Text

ENHYPEN REACTION: you not wearing panties to sleep

PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fwb!hee, bf!jay, perv!jake, ex!hoon, somnophilia, cnc

WC: 1.5k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

LEE HEESEUNG

As much as Heeseung knows you’re comfortable around him, he’s never truly expected you to be carefree enough to go to bed without your panties on, especially one day after you had drunkenly confessed how you wanted him to use you even during your sleep, without having to ask you for consent every time. Maybe that’s what you expected him to do—to use you.

Heeseung, despite being shocked, was thoroughly enjoying the sight in front of him, being best friends with benefits had its perks it seems. Your delicate night slip had ridden up, revealing your ass to him, and he didn’t shy away from getting on the bed, observing your peaceful expression as you slept before he gently turned you a little, making sure you rested on your back.

With your pussy right in front of his face, he couldn’t control himself any longer, bending down a little and parting your legs, pathetically resting his cheek against your inner thighs before giving your clit the softest of the kisses, looking up to make sure you hadn’t woken up. When he didn’t see any signs of movement, he started kissing and licking your pussy all over, his hot breath and needy strokes on your cunt had you breathing hard, even in your sleep.

He didn’t care anymore. Your pussy was like alcohol to him, ever so addicting, and he found himself trying to hump the bed while thrusting his tongue inside your hole, making you stir in your sleep. His thumb brushed over your delicate folds, stimulating your clit further, which was your breaking point as you woke up with a gasp, “Hee—” you cried out, and he pulled back.

“You wore this for me, didn’t you, baby? A thin slip with nothing inside, so I could fuck you when you sleep, hm?” He chuckled, pulling you into a rushed kiss the second you moaned out a yes.

He couldn’t wait to ruin you, filling your whole the entire night, since you were being such a needy little doll for him.

✎

PARK JONGSEONG

Jay didn’t expect to see you asleep in his bed, given that you’re one to stay up till late, however that was least of his concerns at the moment. “Fuck,” he cussed, looking at your bare pussy which was on display for him as you wore nothing but his T-shirt to sleep. He knew it wasn’t right to stare at you while you were asleep but was it too wrong? Granted that you did belong to him.

Moreover, it seemed as if you were having one of those dreams. Your quiet whimpers and the wetness of your cunt was enough proof of that, “J—jay,” you moaned out, trying to rub your thighs in your sleep and the sight was enough for Jay to gulp down his thoughts, getting rid of his tie and shirt before getting in the bed with you.

You were dreaming about him.

He was gentle when he gave your tits a light squeeze over the T-shirt you had worn, two of his fingers caressing your pussy to collect your wetness, which he immediately put in his mouth, groaning at the taste and in need of wanting more of you. He was quick to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking on it while coating his fingers with your arousal again, only to push them inside your clenching hole, which made you gasp, your sleep not fully broken yet.

“So fucking pretty, dreaming about me like that,” Jay muttered, stretching you out with his fingers for a few minutes, closely observing your expressions as you were on the verge of waking up. He didn’t waste more time, rushing to get his pants off and pumping his cock a few times before pushing the tip inside—your eyes opening that very second as you moaned at the sight, registering that Jay was, indeed, fucking you.

“Please—more,” you whimpered, your nails digging in the flesh of his shoulders as he happily obliged.

“Dreaming about me, angel? Oh, I’ll give you something to dream about alright.”

✎

SIM JAEYUN

Jake loved to watch you from a distance, no matter how he tried to hide it, it was more than obvious to you—his roommate. It wasn’t that you minded it, rather, you were flattered, given that Jake was a pretty looking guy who tried to mind his manners around you, the keyword being tried.

The lust always took over him despite him trying not to stare at you. It was hard because you loved to parade around the shared apartment in your shorts which did nothing to hide your body from him, resulting in him getting a boner and jerking off silently in the bathroom.

However, if he was a pervert then you were only the fuel that made him wanna go even crazier. Which is why you didn’t bother wearing panties or anything underneath your night slip, which was almost transparent if not for the pinkish shade it had, just to see him go even wilder and hopefully, gather confidence to do something about his hardened cock.

When he saw you on the couch after coming back home, he gasped, stepping back and looking around, wondering if he was dreaming because why else would you be in front of him like that, “oh—fuck,” he muttered, gulping down and coming close to your sleeping figure, waving his hand in front of your face to confirm that you were, indeed, deep in sleep.

His cock was hardening in his pants already as he licked his lips, getting down on his knees to sniff loudly, getting lost in your scent like a madman, “you’re so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, his wet lips placing a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh before moving upwards, making space for himself between your thighs as he started kissing and sucking on your clit, humming at the taste of what he had wanted for ages.

“Fuck,” he moaned, one hand going down to squeeze his hardened cock before he stopped, getting rid of his sweatpants and coming closer to your parted lips, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips, whining as he started pushing his length in, waking you up as you choked around his cock, processing that he actually got the confidence to touch you today. You pushed him back before grabbing his T-shirt, mumbling close to his dazed face.

“I knew you were a sick ass perv, Jakey,” you smiled sweetly and he groaned, loving the way you degraded him, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson now,” you smirked, making him cry as you rode his cock before riding his face, making him the happiest man alive.

✎

PARK SUNGHOON

Sunghoon didn’t expect you, his ex, to show up at his apartment just one week after the messy breakup you’ve been through, to collect your leftover stuff from him, of course. However, you didn’t check the weather forecast and ended up getting drenched in the rain as you ran from your car to his apartment, which only turned worse as the rain grew into a storm, which wasn’t safe for driving or walking, meaning—you had to stay over at Hoon’s place for the night.

He looked your way with nothing but need in his eyes, the need to have you back in his life, the need to kiss you when you wore his T-shirt after a shower. Wearing your wet underwear was out of question, as you got under the covers awkwardly, “thank you for letting me stay,” you whispered, not looking his way, and he only came closer, his warm breath fanning your neck, “I’ll always let you stay, kitten,” he mumbled and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth that bloomed up in your lower abdomen.

The whole situation was as messed up for Hoon as you. He had a hard time controlling himself, especially when you squirmed in your sleep, pressing your warm body to his. He needed you back, he wanted to get your taste one last time if not more, so he said ‘fuck it’ and pulled down the blanket, kneading your thighs gently at first, “missed you so much, kitten,” he whispered, kissing your clavicle gently before going down, lifting up his T-shirt to find your bare pussy.

“Fuck! It looks like you missed me too, baby,” he chuckled, seeing your glistening pussy, dipping his fingers to coat them with your wetness before rubbing small circles over your hole, easing his fingers in to fill you up, his lips latched to your clit as you stirred in your sleep, on the verge of waking up now while also trying to notice your expressions, trying to memorize it all.

The second you wake up, all confused and aroused, he chuckles, “go back to sleep, kitten, let me take care of your dripping pussy, okay?” He said softly, lust taking over your senses as you watched his messy hair, lips coated with your juices.

“Hoonie,” you whimper, and he comes up to kiss you, “missed you so much, my kitten,” he mumbled between your rushed kiss and you let him take over, letting him in your life once again and forever.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enhypen reactions

2K notes · View notes

harryslittlefreakk · 4 months

Text

the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry��s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

1K notes · View notes

rodolfoparras · 5 months

Text

Thinking about John Price being a big name in the porn industry not just for his dashing looks but also for the amazing chemistry that he has with his coworkers.

Despite the varied types of content that he makes, Price is mostly known for his facials and even cream pies videos. Price is good at his job, knows how to make the viewer feel engaged in the scene and he knows how to pull a genuine reaction from his costars, unlike the majority of people in the industry.

But recently he’s noticed the declines in views, different types of comments complaining that he’s just making the same old type of videos and even a few news sources saying he’s been swapped out for someone much younger.

All it takes is one click on some run into the ground new source to find out who exactly has come to take his place, only to see that it’s you who’s much younger than him, said to have a much more varied content and with a good amount of views for someone who just started out in the industry.

The curiosity in him hadn’t found peace until he had found out what exactly made your content different from his. Porn is porn isn’t it?

However he’d quickly realized what made your content different when he’d watched a video, matter of fact, multiple videos showing men pinned under your weight as you bully your cock into their holes, men down on all four taking your cock down their throats or with your head buried between their thighs as they scream and sob from pleasure.

Price doesn’t know why but something in him made him contact his manager and request a collaboration with you.

It could be for his decline in views. It could be because he thought he needed something new, something he hadn’t shown his audience before or it could be for the way his cock twitched in attention when watching your videos.

He didn’t think he’d get a yes, pacing back and forth while nervously chewing on his bottom lip only to almost jump in happiness when he received the text saying you had agreed to collaborate with him.

However any trace of happiness disappeared when he’d received the script, because something Price hadn’t expected was to bottom in the scene, yet it said so in the script and for a second he hesitated. Price hasn’t ever bottomed before, neither on nor off camera. He should’ve realized this could happen, since you were the top in all of your videos. But he’d gotten ahead of himself, forgotten about the possibility that this could happen.

For whatever reason Price agrees to do the collab anyway, tells himself he can do it, at least to save his career.

The day of your shoot he’s nervous like he’s never been before, rereading the script over and over, constantly glancing at himself in the mirror, even going as far as praying in hopes that he won’t mess this up.

When he meets you he’s taken by surprise once again. You’re ever so charismatic, shaking his hand and giving him the very same dazzling smile you’d given the camera lens while cumming all over someone’s face.

Price thinks he can do it, takes a deep breath as he lays down onto the sheets, only to swallow hard while you crawl up to him.

He’s sure he almost faints when you grab his chin with your thumb and index “hey hey breathe” you say loud enough for him to hear but not enough for the camera to pick up on it.

There’s a flash of surprise on his face before he does as you say and slowly but surely a bit of that tension bleeds away.

“Good good” you say with a small smile on your face while leaning into his ear, gently nibbling on it before whispering “You tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything and I’ll stop immediately alright?”

Price almost laughs. You’re the rookie here yet you’re making him seem like one but somehow he doesn’t mind it, feels butterflies in his stomach as he nods his head in response.

It all turns into a bit of a blur from there. He remembers you placing kisses all over his body, remembers his dick hard and weeping before you granted him a moment of relief, even how your velvety tongue felt buried between his legs. But what lays engraved in his mind is when he had straddled your lap, hands shaking as they adjusted their grip on your chest and thighs quaking as he lined your cockhead up with his entrance.

“Come on John, show me how well you can take my cock yeah?” You say voice breathy and strained, reading a direct line from the script while desperately trying not to buck up into him.

“Ah fuck!” He cries out, head lolling back and eyes squeeze shut as he feels your tip push past his puckered rim

“God just- just like that pretty” you manage to say through gritted teeth, thumb soothingly caressing his hip while eagerly drinking up ever small reaction he gives.

“Feels feels so- so full” he whines out as he continues to take inch by inch, completely forgetting about the cameras on him along with every line in the script.

When you finally bottom out, he’s got fat tears trickling down his cheek, bottom lip wobbling as whines and whimper escape his lips.

“There you are sweetheart” you say, going off script, as your hand cups his cheek, calloused thumb stroking his flushed skin.

In that very moment Price realizes why you’re as popular as you are. It’s not for the varied type of content that you make, it’s not for the men you got pinned under your weight but rather because of how considerate and caring you are towards your partners.

Slowly but surely he starts moving, hips setting a steady pace and with each thrust he feels jolts of pleasure coursing through his body

Fuck, why hasn’t he done this before?

It feels so fucking good, he thinks to himself but realizes he’d said out loud when you respond to him,

“Feels good yeah? Just like that pretty” you grunt out “make yourself cum on my cock”you say once again reading a line from the script and in that very moment Price remembers the two of you are actually doing a scene and not just fucking.

He’d allowed himself to get lost in pleasure but for whatever reason the director didn’t seem to mind it, if anything the director seemed to like it going by the big smile on his face as he watched Price practically bounce on your cock.

Price scours his brain for the lines he’s supposed to say, but all he can think about is how your cockhead is pressing onto the ball of nerves over and over again.

“Please please-“ he slurs out, eyes squeezing shut as blunt nails dig into your skin. Despite being lost in bliss he can’t help but notice how you’ve even got him begging, something he also hasn’t done before and if he wasn’t in the position that he was in, he’d actually laugh.

“Come on sweetheart, cum for me” you say, as if already knowing what he’s waiting for and before he knows of it, he’s tipping over the edge, buckets of sweat pouring down his spine, and ropes of cum spurting all over your abdomen.

As he slumps down next to you in the bed he can’t help but realize that you’d even made him cum without actually touching him.

Many firsts in one night, Price thinks to himself.

Needless to say there were many collabs after that and Price was more than happy to bottom in every single one.

#I wanted to write sm today but work sucked the soul out of me so I offer u this drafts so it’s not just me coming on here holding #Balkan talk hour 🏃🏻‍♂️#call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #bottom male character #x male reader #male reader

1K notes · View notes

milswrites · 3 months

Text

Hobbies Part 3.

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst and sadness. Light injury (nothing too bad)

“Why is it whenever you come to my door you’re always dressed so strangely?”

Azriel has had four blissfully peaceful days since the training session with Y/N . He knew she would turn up again at some point, having promised she’d come back and make him try something new.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly looking forward to spending time with Y/N again, he just assumed it was due to the fact that life in the Day Court for him was awfully dull. At least he now knew where the training grounds were and found most of his time was now spent there. Still just himself for company, he had now adopted his regular pre-sabbatical training routine and he had even been on a few late night flights, the need to stretch his wings too much to deny.

Azriel would also be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting on Y/N’s arrival at his flat once more. A shadow constantly waiting by his front door, even when he was out of his flat, to ensure that he would always know when she was waiting outside to meet him.

That’s what lead him to where he was now.

He had been outside, busy at the training ground and focussed on practicing a very difficult drill with his daggers, when the small wisp of one of his shadows came flying into the arena causing him to immediately stop what he was doing.

‘She’s here’ it told him ‘she’s waiting for you’.

At once Azriel sheathed his daggers and took off flying. Speeding towards the direction of his flat. Not wanting Y/N to know he had left a shadow at the door, purely with the intention of alerting him of her presence, Azriel squeezed himself through his open window. A window which definitely had not been built with the intention of a large Illyrian male squeezing through it but Azriel would rather suffer through the embarrassment of having to contort his body and drag himself through, rather than be faced with Y/N’s teasing grin at the fact he had been expecting her and rushed back to greet her.

After managing to crawl through his window, landing on the floor with a bang he prayed she didn’t hear, Azriel rushed to the door hoping Y/N was still there and hadn’t left having waited too long for a response.

Taking in a deep breath to try and return his breathing to normal, Azriel opened the door. He was met yet again with Y/N standing there, grin on your face, in another totally ridiculous outfit.

“What do you mean strange?” Y/N whined dramatically, hand placed over her heart as if his words hurt. Of course this wasn’t the case as the smile on her face had transformed into a smirk, clearly she was expecting him to say that, “Clearly you’ve never seen Day Court riding attire before.”

“Riding?! Like horses?!”

“No Azriel, riding like dragons, yes of course we’re riding horses!”

Azriel was now sure Rhysand had sent Y/N to torture him as punishment for what he did. He had never been on a horse and had absolutely no no intention of ever being on one. The small trace of excitement he had at the prospect of Y/N returning to his flat with a new hobby for him to try had completely left his mind. Azriel now in a mood and frankly he was slightly scared by the prospect of him on a horse.

“What a shame, I actually have plans for today” he shrugged mock-sympathetic look on his face as he attempted to pull his door to before Y/N could convince him otherwise. Something he was certain she would be able to do with little more than a smile.

“Hold on batboy,” Y/N chuckled, hand reaching out to grab the door before he could close it, “I did something you like, you’re going to do something I like. Deals the deal.”

“We didn’t make a deal” Azriel tried to reason, eyes focussed down the hallway of the flat so to avoid looking into her wide, begging ones that were no doubt staring at him.

“Yes we did”

“No we didn’t”

“Yes we- oh for mother’s sake Azriel! I thought you Illyrians were meant to be honest males!”

At this Azriel couldn’t help but release a barking laugh, “Sweetheart I don’t know what you think you know about Illyrians but that is most definitely wrong.”

“Oh well just…please Azriel,” as she said this Y/N softly moved one of her hands to rest on Azriel’s arm that was holding onto the door, “it would mean a lot to me.”

Azriel’s gaze flickered to where her hand rested on him, jaw clenching as his felt his control slip.

“Isn’t there something else you want to do?”

There wasn’t. Azriel had given in and now he found himself face to face with an overly skittish horse, clearly not a fan of his large wings. Y/N was already up on her horse, beaming down at Azriel as she waited patiently for him to mount.

Tentatively, he took a step towards the horse Y/N had selected for him to ride, pulling his wings in hoping that it would be less intimidating, the animal immediately shuffled backwards nervously.

“Y/N I don’t think this is a good idea” Azriel said turning towards the woman who was clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Giggling, she hopped off of her horse before walking over to Azriel and grabbing his hand. Not expecting this, Azriel flinched and yanked his hand away from her grip turning his head away from her, not wanting to see her disgust as she took in the mangled state of his hands.

“What are you doing?” He tried to snap at her but the words came out more unsure and shaky.

“Azriel”, Y/N spoke, drawing his eyes back to her kind face, “it’s ok, look.” With that Y/N took his hand again, her hold light as if giving him the chance to pull away again if he wanted to. Trusting her, Azriel exhaled and watched as she brought his scarred hand to his horses side moving it up and down in a gentle stroke, action calming the anxious mare.

Y/N’s hand lingered over his for a while, caught in the moment before she pulled away. Slow enough that Azriel was reassured it was not because of the marred skin of his hands. The back of his hand still tingling from where she had touched him.

“See?” She spoke softly, eyes slightly glazed. Azriel could have sworn he saw her shake her head a little, bringing herself back from wherever her mind had wandered to, before she took a step back away from his body, creating distance between them.

“Do you need help getting on?”

Neglecting a verbal response, Azriel shook his head, hand still pressed to the side of the horse where she had placed it. He knew the logistics over getting on a horse he had just never tried to before. Awkwardly, he placed his foot in the stirrup before pushing himself up and bringing his other leg over so he was sat on the horse. He made sure to lift his wings and spread them out a little to avoid them touching the horses back in fear their unfamiliar presence may cause him to get bucked off.

Azriel was sure of two things. One, he looked like an absolute idiot on this horse and if Cassian could see him now he would never let Azriel live it down. And two, Y/N was enjoying his struggle and obvious distaste for animals a little too much.

As they plodded along a dirt path outside of the city, Azriel kept a miserable eye on Y/N who wasn’t afraid to let out a loud cackle every time he showed any sign of stiffness or discomfort.

“Hanging in all right bat boy?” She grinned as Azriel released a groan, no one ever told him how much riding a horse hurt your backside.

“Is this supposed to be enjoyable? This can’t actually be your hobby” he mumbled, shifting on the back of his horse to try and find some semblance of comfort for his rear.

“It’s not,” Y/N replied, “never actually been on a horse before either, I had to beg Helion to let me borrow these from his stable.”

Her comment made Azriel pull on the reins tightly until his horse came to a stop, Y/N still moving on ahead, “What do you mean you’ve never been on a horse? The whole reason I’m here is because you said we were going to do something you like!”

“Hm no I don’t recall saying that” Y/N turned her head over her shoulder, flashing Azriel a cheeky grin before facing forward once more. He huffed and did his best to get his horse moving again, this taking a few attempts, riding along until he was side by side with Y/N.

“So why are we doing this instead of dress shopping or gossiping over some tea?”

Y/N gasped playfully, “Dear me Azriel, you can’t truly believe my hobbies would be something as mundane as shopping or talking. I never took you for a gossip though, that’s good to know”

“Well you seem to do too much of that” Huffed Azriel under his breath.

“Besides, consider this payback”

“Payback?”

“For training the other day, can’t think I’m going to let you flip me onto the floor and get away with it”

And with that Y/N pulled off into a gallop down the dirt track, flying away from Azriel, her laugh hanging in the air, his heart fluttering at the sound. Competitive spirit stirring, and a weird need to impress Y/N, Azriel urged his horse to move faster in an attempt to outrace Y/N who already had a very large head start.

This wasn’t Azriel’s smartest idea as it wasn’t long before he felt the reins slip from his grasp and the next thing he knew he was falling off the back of his horse with a startled yelp. His body and wings scraping against the ground as he made contact, rolling to a stop, horse running off into the distance.

Groaning, Azriel just laid there, hands on his face in exasperation. The sound of hooves coming closer forced him to sit up, watching a panicked Y/N canter towards him, his horse in tow. She hopped off her own, worry evident in her face, and ran to Azriel.

“Cauldron are you ok?!!” She dropped to her knees, grabbing his face in the palm of her hands and scanning him over for injuries. Azriel brushed her off of him, embarrassed at the events that had transpired.

“If this is your idea of payback it definitely worked, think I ended up a lot worse off than you did though”

Y/N broke out into laughter, a sound so sweet and inviting that Azriel couldn’t help but join along. The two of them sat on the ground, dirt on their clothes, laughing hysterically until tears filled their eyes and they couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Let’s do something a little less high risk next time yeah?” Azriel says when his breath returns to normal, his smile had gone, it left with the last laugh that had escaped his mouth, but his cheeks still sweetly stung from the memory of it all the same.

“You mean you still want to keep hanging out with me?” Y/N was joking, but Azriel could still see the trace of insecurity in her eyes that she had blown her shot, that Azriel wouldn’t want to see her anymore after forcing him along on this disastrous trip. He wanted to comfort her, take her hand and tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere. But it was Azriel’s rogue emotions that brought him to this court in the first place and he wasn’t going to allow them to mess anything else up. Azriel called back his shadows that were swirling around them both playfully, thriving off of the joy they were previously emitting.

Clearing his throat and moving to his feet he answered, “I haven’t completely dismissed that as an option, can’t say I’ve particularly enjoyed anything we’ve done.”

His words had hurt Y/N, Azriel could tell that much, he noticed how her smile had wavered, how her eyebrows knitted together and the spark he so admired in Y/N’s eyes had dimmed. Guilt crawled into Azriel’s chest but he knew it was probably for the best, he’d entertain her visits and activities but he couldn’t allow himself to grow any closer. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever, sure that any week now Rhysand would return calling him back to his duties at the night court and he would go, leaving Y/N behind.

So Azriel looked down at Y/N who was still sat on the floor before, hurt on her face and he turned back to his horse, grabbing the reins and climbing on, “come on, let’s head back.” Y/N nodded, wordlessly picking herself up from the floor, she brushed the dirt from her clothes and hopped onto her horse.

They rode in silence, Azriel wanting nothing more in this moment than for her to start one of her conversations that he once found so unbearably annoying. Even praying that she would start her melodic humming, a sign that he hadn’t hurt her feelings too much. But Y/N didn’t make a sound.

Sighing to himself over the fact that he had found himself caring so much about this woman he barely knew in the space of such a small time, Azriel broke the silence, wanting to reduce the rift he had so suddenly opened between them. “So what do you actually enjoy doing. If not torturing the male species”He lamely attempted a pathetic excuse for a joke, recalling when the atmosphere around them both was lighter and more playful, wishing for it to return.

Without looking at him, Y/N replied quietly, “I don’t get much free time. But when I do I like to bake or sow, I enjoy making dresses.”

In an attempt to make her smile Azriel spoke, “someone who meant a lot to me used to sow, she must have made hundreds of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. She made one our high lady wore once, it looked like she had sown together pure starlight.” He glanced to his side where Y/N was riding, a wistful smile creeping onto her lips as if she wished she could create something just as magical.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made anything quite like that”

“I’m sure you’re great. Maybe one day you’ll even make something for me?” It may have been a bit presumptuous of Azriel to say, but at the sight of her usual smile finally on her face he was glad he said it. And Azriel quite liked it, the idea of wearing something made by her.

“A dress?” She teased, the stiff atmosphere around them had blown away with the gentle breeze, a comfortable warmth taking its place.

“I would make a dress work if that’s what you made me. You’ve already put me through enough torture I’m sure I could endure a little bit more.”

Y/N snorted, hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to cover the sound but Azriel caught it and swore to himself he would do everything in his power to make sure he was never the reason for Y/N losing her smile again. As they continued along the path that led back to the city, dirt on their clothes and contentment on their faces. Azriel couldn’t wait for what she had planned next… as long as it didn’t actually involve him having to wear a dress.

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I don’t know much about horses so please don’t come for me if I’ve said something wrong <3

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove

(I’m so sorry I couldn’t get some of them to work, and I’m even more sorry if it’s just my awful spelling)

#acotar #azriel x reader #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #sarah j maas

481 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 3 months

Text

Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: None; fluffy

Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind

Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.

The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.

His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.

As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.

Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.

I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”

No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.

“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”

“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”

“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch’s phone somewhere on the bed.

I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.

Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.

His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.

His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.

His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.

Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.

It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.

I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.

My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.

His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.

I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.

And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.

“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.

“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.

“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”

“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”

“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.

“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”

“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.

“Nothing has to change.”

“Nothing has to change?”

“I promise”

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka

596 notes · View notes

leemacher · 5 months

Text

You're Enough For Me | Astarion x Gn!Tav!Reader

Summary: Shortly after making it to Baldur's Gate, a moment alone with Halsin reveals how he truly feels about you. In talking to Astarion, you realize the true extent to which his time with Cazador affected him, and his relationship with you. OR In which you and Astarion have a conversation about you rejecting Halsin because I don't like that you can't bring that moment up unless you imply that you said yes to Halsin

Word Count: 2,343

Content: fluff, slight angst, mentions of sex, Astarion's trauma, established relationship

Sliding down a tree trunk to sit, resting against it, you didn’t even begin to take in the river before you. Instead, you closed your eyes for the first time in what felt like days. Listening to the river rushing by you and the birds chirping around you, with a deep breath in your muscles began to relax.

For once there were no goblins or shadow monsters to watch out for, there were no cultists trying to kill you or the gods chosen to deal with, and no one needed saving. In that moment it was you and the calm, peaceful world around you.

Unfortunately, like all good things, your perfect serene world melted away at the sound of light footsteps behind you.

“If you're here to kill me, bargain with me, or ask for a favor, come back tomorrow. I’m taking the night off.” At your voice, the footsteps abruptly stopped, and instead came a laugh that you would know anywhere.

Astarion moved to stand next to your sitting form, leaning up against the tree on his side. “Darling, if that was your attempt at intimidation it needs some work.”

You found yourself chuckling with a light smile before looking up at him. “Maybe you can teach me.”

He hummed, casting his eyes towards the river. Taking the moment to admire his features, as you often found yourself doing in moments like these as of late, you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gotten lucky enough to be involved with someone like him. No matter how often you knew he thought himself unworthy of your affection, or any affection really, you felt the exact opposite.

This man who had been through so much, fought for so long, had chosen you. Astarion’s past was one both of you battled nightly, so while you didn’t know all of the little details, you knew enough to understand how deeply his time with Cazador affected him. How much of himself he had lost. The idea that what little of himself he had left he was willingly given to you sent shivers up and down your spine every time you thought about it. He chose to be vulnerable with you, he was open with you, eventually, and he could find safety and comfort in your presence. You were definitely the lucky one.

“C’mon, love.” His voice brought you out of your thoughts. By the look on his face, you could tell he had been thinking of the same things.

Grabbing his hand and pulling yourself up and towards him, the two of you began your walk back to camp. Tomorrow you would finally reach the city, and all of the chaos and stress would fall right back onto your shoulders. Tonight though? Tonight you were going to lie down, curled into Astarion’s side, and have the best sleep you’ve had since this nightmare had begun.

Filing back into camp after a long day of wandering around the city, you couldn’t help but feel joy when you saw Gale making something over the fire out of a few ingredients he had bought during the day. It had been a while since any of you have had food that didn’t just consist of whatever animal you had come across during your journey.

Setting your things down, the first thing you noticed was that most of your companions hadn’t come back yet. Only you, Shadowheart, Gale and Halsin had had their fill of the city it would seem.

While sorting through the items you had bought and… well, not bought, a hand landed on your shoulder and you jumped in fright. Whipping around you came face to face with Halsin, who had a guilty look upon him.

“Sorry, I did not mean to scare you.”

Laughing it off, you shook your head and pulled yourself together. “It’s fine, Halsin. Is there something you needed?”

He nodded, then. “I’d like to talk to you about something actually.” Nodding for him to continue, you watched as the man who stood strong in the face of everything you had faced together became somewhat nervous, though no less serious.

“I never quite realized how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove.” He trailed off for a moment before regaining his words as you tried to figure out where this conversation was leading. “I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you”

You smiled, softly. It seemed everyone in camp had a habit of thanking you for things they did all on their own, albeit with a little support. “I wouldn’t claim to be responsible for all of the things you’ve accomplished, but you’re welcome nonetheless.”

At your words, he laughed lightly in what seemed to be disbelief. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are. But I do.” Your heart felt as if it had stuttered in your chest. He wasn’t implying… Was he? “I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly, but it does now.”

Oh. He was. A thousand thoughts swam through your head. Thoughts of Halsin and the moments between the two of you at the party after the grove, of the feelings you had felt grow slightly at his willingness to risk everything, do anything, in order to remove the curse over the shadowlands and restore Thaniel to his former self. “What are you saying, exactly?” Your words came out in a shocked breath, no doubt picked up on by the man before you.

“I want more than to fight by your side, or to sit around a campfire with you.” His hands reached out slowly and hesitantly for yours. “I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine. And I think you feel the same way, but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

With a slow sigh, you closed your hands around Halsin’s, thoughts ultimately landing on Astarion and the connection the two of you shared. “I won’t lie and tell you that I don’t feel as you do. Your kindness and resilience in all we’ve faced has allowed you to grow on me in a way that I never thought possible.” You could see the deep breath Halsin took in, and knew that even if you did not share in his desires as much as he did, it would hurt you just as much. “But, I’m with Astarion. Mind, body, and soul. Had we met under different circumstances, or had things gone differently, I may have indulged in such sentiments. But I can’t, and truly no matter how I feel towards you, I don’t want to.”

Your hands clutched his tighter, determined to let him down as easily as you possibly could. Halsin was a great man, and he deserved great things. “I know that if I wanted, you would be okay with sharing. The whole ‘as nature intended’ thing,” the two of you shared a laugh. “But Astarion means the world to me, and even if he was okay with it, I wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing myself in that way with someone else knowing that it is his heart I live for.”

Slowly, an understanding smile appeared on Halsin’s face, and his words made the weight of guilt and sadness fly off of your shoulders. “I understand. It is true that I would never ask for you to leave Astarion, nor would I have held you without his consent, but I understand my ideals are not for everyone.” He paused for a moment, squeezing your hands back before releasing them fully. “I am happy that you have found someone you wish to share yourself with in that way. Thank you, for allowing me this moment.”

“Of course, Halsin.” He nodded in goodbye before making his way back over to his tent and slipping inside.

The moon rose quickly, and a fire was kept going by Gale. As all of the others began filing back into camp, excited from things bought and people met within the city, you still could not get your conversation with Halsin out of your head.

Quickly getting up from the fire and grabbing one of the two bags Astarion carried, you brushed your hand against his with the intention of holding it, giving him the opportunity to pull away and smiling brightly when he fully slipped his hand into yours. His tent, as always, was welcoming and warm. Filled with tattered books and the finest blankets and pillows he could get his hands on up until this point, it was no surprise when he pulled out a very nice looking quilt and matching fluffy pillow set that had no doubt cost a fortune, if he even bought them at all.

You sat down, watching as he moved his newly procured items to the exact spot he wanted them in. Chuckling lightly in an almost nervous manner, you disrupted the quiet in favor of getting what happened earlier off of your chest. Not that you had done anything wrong, but it still felt odd for him not to know, given all the things he did know about you due to the many nights spent watching the stars and talking about anything and everything you could. “You wouldn’t believe the conversation I had with Halsin today.”

Your voice came out low, meant for the two of you only, and you watched as Astarion froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me about this.” Your confusion was clear as day, and in voicing this, you were only left more confused. “I guessed! The man can’t stay quiet about ‘enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts’. I bet he’d outlaw clothing if he could.”

Letting out a laugh at his impression of the local druid, Astarion smirked to himself before continuing to move everything around so that his tent was just right. “Wait, so, you’d be okay? If I…” You trailed off, uncertain.

“I’m happy for you to have as much Halsin as you wish, far be it from me to hold your hunger against you. I just have one question, before you go off with him-” Your mind began to spin, as light as the conversation seemed to have been, he hadn’t even given you a chance to tell him what truly happened. He had no doubt that you said yes? “This isn’t because… We haven’t… In a while? Is it?”

His pace in readjusting his belongings finally came to slow down as he said this, intently watching you for a reaction.

“What? No!” Astarion let out a small breath of relief, and before he could continue with what he was about to say, you cut him off. “And slow down, for gods sake. I told him no.”

Astarion’s facial expressions shifted so fast you could barely keep up. “You... said no?”

Nodding, you let a soft smile take over your features. You reached for him, pulling him down towards you and forcing him to sit in front of you. “I said no. I told him that even if you were comfortable with it, I wasn’t. Because I only want you.”

You let your words sink in, holding onto both of his hands and waiting for some kind of response. “Oh. I mean,” he paused. “Oh.”

“Astarion,” you reached your hand up and placed it lightly on his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I need you to listen to me, very carefully.” His eyes widened slightly. “Sex? Doesn’t matter to me. If we never had sex again it would be okay with me, so long as we were still together. Holding your hand, kissing you, cuddling, just… just talking with you, existing with you, is enough for me. Because I’m not with you for your body, or even your face, even if it is a really really pretty face. I’m with you because of you, because of who you are and the way you make me feel. Your smile, your laugh, your wit, those pesky morals you’ve been developing recently,” you let out a giggle. “Sex with you would be great, if and only if you are comfortable with it.”

It was silent for a moment, before Astarion finally spoke up. “And what if I’m never comfortable with it.”

The waver in his voice was almost enough to make you burst into tears at that very moment. “Then that’s okay.” You brushed your thumb across his cheek. “I love you, Astarion. That’s why I’m with you. I choose to be with you because I am in love with you. Sex has nothing to do with that.”

His eyes fluttered close as you spoke those words, his head leaning ever so slightly into the palm of your hand.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, you spoke again. “I’m going to go head out to the fire and get a nice spot ready to eat with the rest of them. Come and join me when you’re ready.” Shifting to get up, you planted a soft kiss onto his forehead and lightly brushed your fingers through his hair before stepping out of the tent and leaving him to process the moment you two had shared.

You sent smiles to your friends as you took up your usual spot around the fire, thanking Gale as he handed you a bowl of freshly cooked soup. Eventually, you felt the familiar hands of your partner slide around your waist and pull you onto his lap.

Setting your empty bowl aside, you smiled at the faintest sound of an “I love you” lingering in the air, so soft you almost didn’t hear it. You whispered it back and laid against him, relaxing into his arms.

#leemacher #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction

734 notes · View notes

targaryen-dynasty · 5 months

Text

ZĪRTYS PERZYS.

Prev. Part | Next Part

Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, teasing, breeding, size kink, size difference, slight humiliating/gaslighting?, slapping, teasing, mentions of blood, cutting of lips and hands, Valyrian wedding, female reader (no mentions of appearance besides purple eyes)

WORDS: 3.7 K

Maegor had kept true to his words. A sennight had passed until you stood in the Throne Room opposite him, the High Septon carrying out the wedding ceremony.

But no matter how lavish it all was, how many people attended the wedding and its feast – it was not what you wanted.

And your husband knew.

For all the years you had been around Maegor, following him from a very young age, there had been enough occasions where you two had talked about your ancestors and the Doom that came over them. Therefore, you had more than one chance to tell him about your desire to wed in their traditions one day, regardless of whether you and your betrothed would share the blood of Old Valyria or not.

Your wedding in front of the people of court and the High Septon merely seemed to be a means to an end to keep the smallfolk satisfied. You were wife number four ever since he ascended the throne four years ago, even though you currently were the only wife he had. The women that came before you had been dead for less than a year – something you hadn’t known of until he had told you the morning you followed him and Balerion to King’s Landing.

And with the bedding following the ceremony and feast, you were officially wed… in the eyes of the Faith.

But that did not mean it was official to you.

Not more than nine days had passed since you left the castle of Dragonstone for the Red Keep, but it still felt completely different when you set foot on the island again.

Many hours had you spent in Aegon’s Garden prior to your father’s death, surrounded by its roses and tall trees and basking in the peace and quiet. The familiar and pleasant scent of pine was enough to calm your fluttering nerves and brought back the memories of when your life had not been plagued by death and war.

A gentle breeze blew through the tresses of your hair as Grand Maester Benifer led you through the ceremony, acting as an officiant and the third witness to your union – your mother and aunt being the other two.

The ancient headpiece adorning the top of your head was not heavy, yet your pounding heart made you overly aware of it being there, and you could not wait to be allowed to take it off again. Even though dozens of Valyrian women before you had worn it to their weddings, it merely was a coincidence you had found the traditional marital robes you and your uncle now wore. They had been neatly stored away in a dusty chest in the depths of the Sea Dragon Tower, not even Maegor had been able to find them for his wedding to Alys.

Sitting somewhat tautly around his muscular arms and shoulders, Maegor’s robe did not fit him as well as yours fit, appearing as if it had waited all its life to be worn by you on this special occasion.

Having read about the ceremony and traditions over and over again, you knew by heart what was to come, yet your eyes still widened a bit as Maegor raised a fine shard of dragonglass, zīrtys perzys in the tongue of your ancestors. Awe and fear alike blazed through the purple of your eyes, whereas you spotted a hint of something different in the gaze of the man opposite of you. Affection? Or even love?

Your hands trembled slightly as Maegor placed the shard in one of them, knowing exactly what was to come and to do since this was not his first wedding in the customs of Old Valyria. Hesitantly bringing it up to his face, the tremors did not ease with you dragging it over his bottom lip. The blood that gathered at the cut was no surprise, however, it still unsettled you to think of your lips undergoing the same procedure just a few moments later.

The gentleness with which he took the shard from your trembling hand was little comfort, and as he cut your bottom lip in return, you wondered how he had endured it without wincing as you did.

After he had gathered some of your blood from the cut on the pad of his thumb, he dragged it over your forehead, drawing the Valyrian glyph for fire on it. You did the same, the glyph for blood written on his.

A shiver ran down your spine as you carefully watched him cut his hand without any sign of discomfort or pain, figuring he was just as savage and brutal as everyone around you had said, used to the pain and to worse. But this was not about savagery or experience, it was about your union, to be wed by blood and fire.

Only then it dawned on you just how much you had longed for this to happen – and how long you had waited for it.

All the years you had spent cross with your father for not offering Maegor your hand in marriage, and even sending him into exile to Pentos, seemed ridiculous now. If only you had known back then that you were going to end up in his arms anyways.

“Issa aōha pālegon,” Maegor whispered, his gruff voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves and excited roaring of dragons in the far distance. It is your turn.

Staring at his cut palm for a bit too long, you examined how the blood gathered in the curvature of it, and how much it actually was. The shard of dragonglass was in his other hand for you to take, and everyone around waited for you to repeat the gesture and cut your hand.

But you could not bring yourself to do it.

Every time you thought about your wedding, you had never considered the pain that came with it. And now, it was all that was on your mind.

Shaking your head, you swallowed thickly, flexing the fingers of your still outstretched hand. “Kostan daor,” you muttered, your voice breaking slightly, causing Maegor’s eyes to widen. Was he afraid? you wondered. “Kessa ōdrikagon.” I can not. It will hurt.

When he tried to place the shard in your palm, you pulled it back, yet your uncle was quick enough to seize your wrist with a strength he had only rarely displayed towards you before. “Gaomagon ziry,” he warned, a sharp edge to his voice that prompted the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. Do it.

You whimpered, more so as the cold dragonglass pressed against the thin skin of your wrist, close to cutting it. “Gaomagon–Gaomagon ziry syt nyke,” you stuttered, “... kostilus.” Do-Do it for me… please.

He tilted his head to the side at your words, sizing you up, the grip on your wrist loosening almost at the same time. The slight crease showing between his brows indicated his confusion - or mayhaps even annoyance - yet he still complied. Taking in a sharp breath as the shard sliced your skin, the singing pain did not lessen, especially not when your hands united in a firm grip to make your one bloodline stronger.

Replacing the shard of dragonglass with a goblet whose content was unknown to you, it was Grand Maester Benifer speaking, while you both took generous swigs of the dark liquid.

“Let it be known that Maegor of House Targaryen and Y/N of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

Your heart pounded in your throat, and the coppery taste on your tongue made you aware that you had licked your nicked lip in anticipation of what was to come.

“You may speak the vows,“ the Grand Maester continued.

“Iksan zȳhon se issa ñuhon. Hen bisa tubis, ēva se mōris hen ñuha tubissa,” Maegor said, looking down at you with admiration flickering in his eyes. I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.

And then it was your turn.

“Iksan zȳhon se issa ñuhon. Hen bisa tubis, ēva se mōris hen ñuha tubissa,” you replied, with eyes locked with his. I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.

Your husband recklessly threw the goblet aside to snake his arm around your waist, drawing you closer towards him with your cut hands still connected. He briefly looked over to the Grand Master and the Dowager Queens, before focusing his attention back on you.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” he cited in the Common Tongue, to which Grand Maester Benifer bowed his head once, and dipped forwards to claim your lips in a kiss that was shy of being reserved.

Your marital robes and smallclothes lay in a scattered trail from the door to the bed, some still pooling around Maegor’s ankles as he held you tightly in his strong arms with your legs slung around his waist. His hard cock was nestled between your bodies, pressed against his lower abdomen and generously coated in your arousal.

It felt as if your lips had not parted once since your kiss in Aegon’s Garden, still as fervent and demanding as it had been back then.

Maegor tipped his head back slightly to break the kiss, yet yours tilted forward to chase his lips eagerly. He tsked at that and grabbed your chin to keep your head still, allowing him to press his lips to your jaw before they wandered to the curve of your shoulder. His teeth nibbling your skin, in combination with his tongue dragging over the light marks they left, sent you into a frenzy, distracting you enough from the sudden pressure of his cock prodding at your entrance.

He had placed a large hand under your arse, effortlessly lifting your body so he was able to grip the base of his stiff member, tugging on himself twice before holding it steady to line himself up with your entrance.

You felt him slide inside inch for inch at an agonizingly slow pace as if he wanted to make sure you were aware of every vein and ridge of his cock that dragged along your quivering walls. But the tightness of your cunt was practically sucking him inside, eager for him to fill you to the brim

Where you took in a sharp breath to brace for the sting that came with the intrusion, Maegor released a husky groan, slightly muffled with his lips still on your shoulder. You tilted your head back to moan shakily, the grip of your legs around his waist tightening in an attempt to lure him inside quickly.

Your back arched against him, but the tight squeeze of your arse was enough to stop any further movements, pain and pleasure alike blossoming within your belly.

“Gods be good,” you whimpered, burying your head in the curvature of Maegor’s neck the moment you spotted him carefully studying your face contort in pleasure. You felt his hand trailing from your arse up your spine with feather-like movements, until it settled at the back of your head, entangling in your hair and tugging on it to yank it back.

You winced slightly, which probably made him aware that he had used a bit too much of his strength, immediately releasing your tresses. “Do not hide from me,” he crooned, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “Let me see how good I am making you feel.”

Swallowing thickly, a meek nod was all you could do in return. It was the admiration in his gaze and the determination in his voice that rendered you speechless. Despite the fervor in his pleasure and the long-suppressed desire he felt towards you, Maegor had never been more careful, rawer and more vulnerable with you.

He had one arm snaked around your waist and the other hand still buried in your hair, solely relying on them to support your body, keeping you mounted on his cock as he slowly prowled towards the bed. And even though you had adjusted to his size, neither of you moved.

Carefully laying you down on the bed, it was inevitable for him to slip out in the process, leaving you pouting and yearning for him to fill you again.

He stood in front of you completely naked, truly a sight to behold, and it still had not fully settled that you were to witness that sight for as often as you wanted from now on for the rest of your lives.

The light the candles granted was dim, yet bright enough for the beads of sweat to highlight his pale skin, accentuating his rippling muscles. His cock stood tall against his lower abdomen, appearing painfully hard as it glistened with your arousal.

“Stop the sulking,” he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his gravelly voice.

You licked your lips, your eyes flickering between his and his cock. “Come here and make me.”

Maegor chuckled dryly but was convinced enough to join you on the bed. You scooted further towards the headboard and spread your legs for him, making enough space to accommodate his bulky frame.

Kneeling between your parted legs, he leaned forward and grabbed the headboard with one hand, towering over your small frame. The other clasped around the base of his hard member, aligning it yet again with your entrance.

You anticipated him to enter you right away, a little moan of excitement leaving your lips even before you felt him prodding against your cunt. A mocking scoff left his throat once he noticed what had happened, shooting you a knowing glance that had you cowering beneath him from embarrassment.

Mayhaps it was you eagerly anticipating it, just wanting to tease you and keep you waiting a few moments longer, but Maegor instead dragged the tip of his cock through your soaked mound, generously coating it in your slick. As he repeatedly rubbed it over the little bud at the apex of your legs, you couldn’t stifle a whimper from slipping past your lips, your hips rutting against him instinctively.

A wide smirk was plastered over his features, his gaze wandering down your frame, settling on what was happening between your legs. “Aren't you a naughty one, mh?” he said, making eye contact as he still teased your pearl, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to him.

Heat blossomed on your cheeks, and you looked to the side. “Stop the teasing… please,” you whimpered, coyly. “I-I need you.”

Maegor stopped the teasing to pinch your chin, tilting your head for you to meet his eyes, the tip of his stiff member nestled between your soaked lips but not pushing inside. “But sweetling,” he started, the name spoken in a condescending manner that made your skin crawl. You definitely should not have liked him talking to you like that. “I am not teasing you in the slightest,“ he crooned, “I am simply being affectionate. Do you want me to stop?”

With your eyes wide and lips parted, you meekly shook your head, the intensity of his gaze as he awaited to hear your voice putting your body on fire. “N-No.” You weren’t sure what to expect if you would ask him to stop, somewhat anxious to offend him in any way.

His cock was so close but also too far away, and while you were certain he could go another hour without being inside of you, you lacked that composure. Trying to angle your hips to the point the tip of his cock was breaching your entrance, Maegor firmly connected his hand with the side of your thigh – not as strong as you had anticipated, but still strong enough to have a hot pain spread from your flesh right to your cunt. A renewed wave of arousal seeped out of your core right onto his cock.

“My my, would you look at that?” Maegor cooed, bathing you in a sense of feigned safety and calmness. “Who would have thought that my little niece is such a harlot?”

He placed his large hand on the spot where he had slapped you, soothing the stinging flesh with gentle movements. It was a stark contrast to the initial slap, and even though it confused you, you relished in the gentleness.

“Mae-Uncle,” you mewled, pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a pout. “... please.”

An impish smirk pulled on the corners of his lips. “Please, what?”

“By the Seven,” you whined, balling your hands to fists at your sides in frustration. “Just-Just give me what I desire!”

Maegor raised his brow, seemingly impressed by that little outburst and the lack of coyness with which you said it – completely different from how you had acted before. “Oh, how could I ever say no to you?” he rasped, hungrily licking his lips. His hand wrapped around his cock again, and he kept it in place as he pushed inside in one, swift thrust, forcing himself into your tight heat.

You forgot how to breathe as you tried to adjust to his size again. It felt as if he was harder than before, if that was even possible, filling you to the brim at once. You clenched down around him, and the choked gasp he released made your heart swell with pride.

Despite the slight aching of him being a bit too rough and big for you, an immense pleasure started to blossom in your belly, granted by his curved length plunging in and out of you.

A dip in the mattress next to your head, and Maegor had supported the weight of his bull-like frame on one elbow, inevitably bringing his chest closer to yours. His other hand had long abandoned the headboard to grab your thigh, hoisting your leg around his waist.

You drowned in the proximity. His weight pinning you to the mattress, the warmth that emanated from him, his scent — it all pushed you into a frenzy.

Maegor was balls deep inside of you, bullying the spot that had you seeing stars and hiccuped your breathing. As you looked to the side with your eyes squeezed shut, he was quick to cup your chin, tilting it back to force your eyes to meet his.

“How does this feel?” he asked, uncharacteristically tender.

You arched your back, arms wrapping around his thick neck to bury your hands in his short hair. “So good,” you whined, the words swallowed by Maegor pressing his lips to yours.

You tugged on his silver tresses, walls squeezing him so tight you couldn’t even tell if they had even unclenched before. The kiss was fervent, full of passion, and was all teeth and tongue – unlike any kisses you had shared before.

It might have been the feeling of your marriage finally being legitimate to the both of you, or you two being completely alone without any prying eyes and ears or people of court, but even the bedding was different from the many times you had shared a bed before.

“Such a good girl,” Maegor grunted against your lips, rutting his hips into yours. “Mayhaps I shall reward you tonight and put a babe in you. Would you like that?”

Keening at the praise and the significance of his words, your walls started to flutter around him, clenching and unclenching without a rhythm.

“Yes, please,” you slurred, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Please, give me a child.” You were not sure if it was the thought of being round with his seed or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your mind went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you could only think of his cock dragging along your walls.

Where you could have sworn you could have indulged yourself in his proximity just a little longer, your body seemed to act on its own with your peak suddenly washing over you. Your body was taut, convulsing as he fucked you through the sensations, reveling in the way your moans grew louder and wanton. He mouthed along your neck, his hot and heavy breath fanning over your skin.

In your state of bliss, you had barely noticed the increasing pace and intensity of his thrusts. “I shall give you what you desire,” Maegor rasped to which you merely replied with a breathy ‘yes’.

The snaps of your husband's hips grew harsh and uneven as he crested the horizon, spilling his seed deep inside of your quivering cunt. His fingers dug harshly into your cheeks now, still cupping your chin while groaning into the crook of your neck. Maegor was relentless as he fucked his seed deep into you, desperately wanting it to take and bear fruit.

Once the throbbing of his cock became less, he collapsed onto his side, purple eyes squeezed shut and needing a few seconds to steady his breathing. You watched him with a tired smile on your lips, reaching out to scratch your nails over the coarse hairs on his chest.

“What?” he asked as he opened his eyes to you smiling at him.

Hesitating to ask the question, afraid of the answer breaking your heart, you licked your lips. “What if I do not give you a boy?”

But it seemed that the failed pregnancies of his wives before you had softened his heart, even if only a bit, because he brought his hand to yours on his chest, lacing your fingers. “I do not care, for as long as it’s healthy.” Bringing your joined hands to his mouth, he pressed his lips to the back of yours while maintaining eye contact.

The gesture and his words had your heart fluttering with nothing but love and admiration for the man everyone dubbed ‘the Cruel’, yet he was not cruel to you.

Pulling you close, he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Sleep, wife,” he crooned, “we shall reside here just a little longer.”

And sleep you did. The best you had slept in a very long time.

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme

670 notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 1 year

Note

Everyone leaving a business course in Japan knows that Dynamight PR is THE job to get. Everyone strives and works for it without really knowing what they’re getting into. They just know it’s the highest paying job you can get and you’ll either never need to go job hunting again, or you’ll have an amazing job on your CV. That is until they work there and realise that Dynamight is a dog that cannot be contained by his PR team and the reason you get hired on the spot if you go looking for other jobs is ‘well if you can work for Dynamight, you can work for anyone’

I could write about this trope for hours I’m so obsessed with it— he’d make your job so insufferable whilst simultaneously being the best part of it😫

On paper, a job at Dynamight’s agency is the dream for anyone in business— never mind a student fresh out of school with no experience. Strict NDA’s meant there was little information about what a job working for Dynamight’s PR team was really like, but the fact that his current manager was signed off sick for stress should’ve been an indication of what the job would be like for you.

You didn’t meet Dynamight during your interview, even though it was held at his agency. A fact you found a little peculiar, thinking a Hero climbing the rankings would be invested in who he’d have as his PR assistant— especially as it could help further his career, but it didn’t surprise you. Dynamight was one of the most in-demand heroes, with the media, fans and public desperate for his attention. Of course he wouldn’t have the time to interview everyone that applied for the job.

But you didn’t even meet Dynamight when you got the job. The three weeks since had been surprisingly calm, surprisingly easy. You’d spend your days filtering through emails, most of them from fans who’d beg for a chance of meeting the Pro, or autographs or merch. Not unlike a lot of the emails from the media, trying to arrange interviews or publicity stunts while trying to offer their fees.

The only complaint you’d received was from a young photographer that hadn’t known any better when he shoved his camera directly under Bakugou’s nose during a rescue mission, the hulking Pro carrying an injured civilian over one of his broad shoulders as he grabbed the camera with his palm. The heat of his quirk no match for the intricate technology as it melted beneath his touch, effectively destroying the memory card as he let it drop to the ground. The only evidence a blurry, charred JPEG of Bakugou’s angry face as he reached out for the device. The complaint quickly settled with a new photography set as compensation, as well as a well scripted apology from the Pro. An apology, which you soon realised, was carefully scripted by yourself and signed by the Pro-Hero himself.

“What do you want?” You hadn’t expected these to be the first words your new boss would say to you, and yet here you were.

“Oh, I’m your new PR assistant,” You understood now why people felt intimidated in his presence. Crimson eyes shot you a glare from across the room before he quickly went back to the laptop on his desk, even though thick-rimmed glasses he still felt as intimidating as ever. Even if he did look much cuter like this— “I just need you to sign this apology to the photographer from last week—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ signing that shit,” He scoffed, “Tell that prick he’s lucky it wasn’t his head.”

Now you understood why there were always vacancies available for this job.

You were certain Dynamight wasn’t trying to make your job difficult on purpose, he always seemed to answer your calls when he was inside his office— even if it was usually with an abrupt “what?”. And he even agreed to tone down his aggressive views online, “Fine, sweetheart. I’ll cut the fuckin’ politics. But you know those fuckers need tellin’ how dumb they are”. The peace could only ever be short lived, because no matter how hard you tried, things just seemed to get worse.

If the hero commission weren’t a bunch of pussies Deku wouldn’t be number one for another year in a row.

“Oh my god,” Your eyes squinted as you read the tweet at six in the morning, before you’d even had a chance to wake up and get ready for the day.

The likes and retweets continued to grow as you began to get messages from your team at the agency, and the media as you contemplated just never coming back.

Usually someone in the IT department would lock his account just in time, or intercept the tweets but it wasn’t always quick enough. You really were in the trenches as you decided to take matters into your own hands. Scrolling to your contacts as you called your boss immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and calm the migraine you knew was coming on.

“You’re callin’ a bit late for a bootycall, sweetheart—” He grunted, his breathing laboured on the other side of the phone so you assumed he was at the gym. Or so you hoped, not wanting to imagine him on top of another woman whilst talking to you, “Don’t you start work in an hour?”

“Cut the crap, Bakugou,” You snapped, irritated by the offensive tweet mere hours after he’d promised to tone it down, “You said no more ridiculous tweets.”

“You said no more ridiculous tweets,” He mimicked your tone, “I’m just posting pure fuckin’ facts and you know it. If the commission weren’t so far up Deku’s ass I’d be number one by now.”

“No,” You growled, “If you weren’t such an insufferable asshole all the fucking time and actually tried to show up to some of the events that were organised for you, you might actually have a chance of changing public perception of you. Nevermind the simple fact that Deku had better numbers than you this month. Deku’s number one because he deserves to be, but you deserve it too. So maybe if you fixed up we could get you there, but instead you choose to be a jerk.”

You couldn’t believe the words had left your mouth. Every single ounce of annoyance and irritation you’d felt working under Dynamight for the past month had spewed out in under thirty seconds. The emotions you’d kept bottled up every time you received a new complaint or read a new interview or post from Bakugou, now released from your system.

And even though you were certain that you’d lost your job now, at least you could say that you’d given your notice in style.

“Well shit,” You heard the running stop on the other side of the phone as you assumed he paused his treadmill, panting into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You sighed, “Maybe it’s better if you get someone else for the job—”

“I like it when you’re pissed, sweetheart.” He cut you off completely, catching you off guard, “I’ll see you in an hour. You can tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

#YOU KNOW HE’S HIDING HIS CHUB ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PHONE #bakugou x reader

2K notes · View notes

paymechildsupport · 14 days

Text

ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ!Ryomen Sukuna x M!ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ!Reader //“𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲..?”

Request, @zxuii

--- "HI HIII first off, i love your writing style, i actually adore it lol. Second I want to request Teacher!Sukuna x Male!reader that was also a sorcerer from the heian era, a powerful one who gets jealous quite often of the attention Sukuna gets since back in the Heian era the only ones who where close enough to Sukuna was reader and Uraume (Unless Uraume didn't exist in this AU or smth happened) so a lot of fights between them break through since Sukuna isn't good with communication either. You can decide if you want this too be Angst in general or paired with something else i don't mind!! :))"

((I love this <3))

-!! M!Reader (he / him)

-!! Wee bit of angst (he's just a saucy boy) + goofy kinda smut (dunno what kind of style it's called lol)

-!! stuff ain't proofread 🥶

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

･・❥・---------------------------------------------------------------･・❥・

Sukuna remembers you vividly from the past; from that time 1000 years ago. How could he forget? Such a flamboyant character, – power exuded with every step, the earth seeming to shake with every fall of your foot. A wandering swordsman: a rather powerful sorcerer who curiously didn’t belong to any one clan. You’d spend your days traversing the earth, sleeping in the empty shrines near villages, taking commissions and odd jobs from just about everyone– human or not.

Sukuna found it odd how you didn’t align yourself with the standard belief of sorcerers: you were benevolent to cursed spirits like him, you didn’t have the sudden impulse to exorcize, to destroy. Perhaps it was your lack of loyalty to a clan, or the fact that curses could offer prices just as good– if not better, than humans. Either way, it was quite interesting when you crossed paths for the first time; him, the terrifying, all powerful King of Curses, – four arms and two grotesque faces, towering over you, a humble traveler, – and you just stood there, – smiling, at him, – the rumored monster of Ryomen Sukuna.

He was absolutely astounded, – had this guy not an ounce of fear? The singlest shred of self-preservation? You should be screaming– running, – begging at his feet for mercy, – not making small talk

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Excuse me? It’s pouring”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed 😋”

He could sense a staggering amount of cursed energy from you, much more than the average sorcerer– let alone human.

“Nice jugs btw”

“???”

Bud was flabbergasted – he could only watch you walk away with a big grin on your face. Later that evening he had to bring it up to Uruame, who was cooking up the latest harvest of human bones:

“He said you had a nice chest.”

“Huh, usually one would think to say that to a woman–”

“Perhaps the sorcerer thought you were a woman”

“What.”

Ever since he’s had an affinity for you, a fascination… an obsession. He needed to know everything about you, – your goal, your motives, your desires, your deepest and darkest of fears, – the most depraved of thoughts of this strange sorcerer who had the gaul to compliment his chest like he was some kind of street whore.

He ran into you the next day at the same village, just as you were about to leave. You acted so nonchalant, like he was just another acquaintance, it was truly fascinating and… dare Sukuna say, endearing. He initially went there to kill you for your audacity from yesterday, yet he ended up only shit-talking the village folk wit you, – the old swordsmith who swore there were devils living in his chimney, - the old woman by the creek who was rumored to drown passerbys in the water next to her tiny abode, - the sleezy thug of a priest who thought it was funny to scam you for cleaning his shrine free of charge (whom Sukuna ended up gutting shortly afterwards). The curse was left to, yet again, return back to Uruame with new rantings of you

(just let them cook in peace 😭)

The next day, a band of those pesky Zenin showed up, – and Sukuna thought the opps were on him again. Turns out, not only were you not apart of any specific clan, but you were also quite unpopular with a majority of sorcerer society. After finding out, Sukuna couldn’t help but rush to your aid, determined to cleave the gang of sorcerers in half for trying to harm such an interesting specimen of his. Imagine his utmost surprise to find them not only beat upon his arrival, but diced up and dead on the forest floor, too.

He was beyond impressed: a seeming clanless nobody such as yourself had chopped down about a dozen of one of the most powerful sorcerers of the time. You saw him staring from afar, waving and flashing that stupidly charming smile of yours. Sukuna couldn’t help but invite you back with him, the dozen dead bodies in tow

Uruame cooked up a mighty fine dinner that night, one the three of you enjoyed together (yum, human flesh). From that day on you were part of the gang: you, Sukuna, and Uruame. Most days you would be off for up to months at a time, simply doing your own thing, going town to town. Whenever you’d run into your good pal as he was burning down the latest village you’d make sure to have a nice catch up over a warm meal (cooked by Uruame)

You and Uruame got along, – they liked the fact that you could often cook together, Sukuna– being useless as shit in the kitchen – was barred from helping lest he incinerate everything

But alas, you were mortal, fickle; temporary, – and no sooner did you come into his existence were you cruelly ripped from him, – finally effectively jumped and killed.

Sukuna almost couldn’t believe it: you never lost- you weren’t supposed to lose, but you did. You fought valiantly, taking an impressive number down with you. In the skirmish, Uruame disappeared, Sukuna was reduced almost to dust,-- miraculously he survived, albeit incredibly weak. They sealed a majority of his power away in his severed fingers.

Now, weakened immeasurably and down a pair of arms, – momentarily without his chef and darling sorcerer, Sukuna had a change in heart

No longer did he want to be the bad guy, he wanted to be good, to help others, – to help the future of jujutsu sorcery (nah, that’s some bullshit, he just wanted to continue being fed, and he could only be if he became a teacher in sorcery, lol)

—----

Flash forward to modern day…

—---

Seeing you once again, reborn, was a complete whiplash for Sukuna.

You recognized him immediately, obviously, – he was your man after all <3 (even if he denied it)

Poor baby had to physically restrain himself when he saw you back to kicking ass as a modern day jujutsu sorcerer, having not changed an ounce since he last remembered you

You miss his four arms, – almost more than Sukuna did. It disappointed Sukuna to see you disappointed with his lack of arm power. Still, he only needed two arms to absolutely destroy you--

After the incident with Yuji Itadori accidentally consuming one of his fingers (which made Sukuna livid– blud has been sweating and grinding to get those fingers back, and to find out some random goofy ahh kid decided to munch on one? And they wanna give him MORE??) – Sukuna has been absorbed more than ever into his work.

You adore his students, – especially Megumi, Nobara and Yuji – (much to Sukuna’s dismay) and oftentimes will stop by his lessons just to bug him in front of them

You were still the same insufferable charmer as before, shamelessly batting your eyes and making crude comments to catch him off guard:

“Hey cutie ;) “

“Hell do you want” he sneers, “wish to be my example for today’s lesson?”

“Nah, just passing by, – those pants make your ass look fat by the way”

“What.”

“Toodles !!”

It infuriated him, much to your delight

It was different now, back then it was just you and him, Uruame bearing the only witness to your shenanigans. But when you say those things in front of those brats, – the same brats who were taught to fear and despise his kind, who were suppose to be intimidated by him, – it makes his job of maintaining the tough, snide “King of Curses” just that much harder

Yuji, with all the time he spent with Sukuna as his main mentor, would ask about you frequently: what you were like 1,000 years ago. Whether it was the nostalgia or purely the fact it was you, – talking about it always softened Sukuna’s grueling and harsh belittling. Poor Yuji could only catch a break when Sukuna started saying “Back in my day..”

“Sukuna-sensei?”

“What, brat?” Sukuna paused, casting an unimpressed glare over his shoulder

Yuji propped his head onto a fist, leaning on the desk in front of him. The empty classroom was dimming with the setting sun, the vibrant colors that always made Sukuna wanna barf invaded through the windows from the sunset, painting the empty classroom a colorful ombre,

“You said that odd man who likes to hang around you was around 1,000 years ago, right?”

Sukuna’s eyebrows scrunch in annoyance, “Yes, and?”

“What was he like? Does he act the same as all those years ago? How’d he get reborn? What was your relationship like?” The curse wanted to punt the kid across the room with all his silly questions. Instead, – knowing you’d dislike it if he hurt Yuji, – he opted to take a deep breath, air hissing through his teeth, before answering,

“Mm, you brats are so invasive, – the world doesn’t revolve around you selfish vermin.” sighing, “but fine, I’ll entertain whatever silly fantasy you have about me in your head; he was a sorcerer, a pretty damn strong one, too”

“But you didn’t kill him-” Yuji interjects, confused

“No, I didn’t”

“Why, were you two good friends.?”

He growled at the quantity of the questions, causing Yuji to scoot back in his seat slightly,

“No– well, sort of. I’d assume you could say that.”

“No-? Really? Kugisaki thinks you two are dating”

Sukuna’s jaw almost drops to the floor,

“What.”

“Yeah, – Fushiguro says you two were together back then too, with the way you look at each other”

With the way he-?

“Was he your like… private prostitute or something?”

Sukuna has never heard such fuckery before:

“No. – I’d suggest you’d stop wherever you think you’re going with this, brat.”

“Did you bang though?”

That threw him for a loop, and Sukuna couldn’t help but wince at the term. “Banging” was a poor choice of words, – such a word couldn’t possibly do what you two did justice.

No, you didn’t “bang”

Sukuna couldn’t help but be drawn in by you, – your attitude, your carefree-ness, your power, he wanted it all for himself, – which he sometimes did

Those endless nights of pleasure where’d he just lose himself in you, - your affectionate caresses, your sweet nothings whispered into his ear that cast shivers all throughout. Sukuna was used to hearing praise showered upon his name, – his devotees throwing themselves at his feet to worship the ground he walked on. But he didn’t care for their praise, – not like he did yours. Your kind words were treasured, craved. If only you had been a woman: he would’ve made you a concubine, – no, – his wife.

—---

His ego is fragile, witnessing you tearing apart his terrifying image horrifies him.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, you couldn’t stop dotting on your pretty princess :3 It all came to a boiling point when you saw one of his colleagues start to cuddle up just the littlest bit too close: and he just let them. Seeing Mei Mei acting so clingy with the King made something in the pit of your stomach drop. Your envy boiled, sour and ripening into an ugly weed. It was obvious she held no actual affections (because one, – Mei Mei only lives for cold, hard cash, – which Sukuna didn’t really have on him, which was odd— and two, he was way too old for her tastes)

You just couldn’t help yourself, – he was wearing such a tight shirt, it hid nothing.

“Yo, nice tits”

He was done. You were done sullying his name with your filthy words, – you were done humiliating him. And he made sure you knew that too

He had pulled you into his empty classroom, all the students and staff long gone. Sukuna towered over you, cold glare sending a delicious shivering cascading through your body,

“Enough.”

“Eh..?” you wince, your voice sounded all wrong, too high pitch and breathy, “enough of what?”

Your damn smile again.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your humiliation is not appreciated.”

You scoff, “humiliation?”

He glares, “silence, brat” he firmly grabs ahold of your chin, forcing it upwards, making you look him directly in those creepy, maroon eyes.

One moment Sukuna has his emotions underwraps: he’s focused, – locked in, – he’s not going to let something as fickle as human ‘love’ hinder his plans. The more assertive the better, he would not be walked on – but he also didn’t want to accidentally lash out and do something he ends up regretting

The next thing he knows, Sukuna starts spiraling,

“You insist on following me, stalking me for over 1,000 years, – it’s pathetic” wait- what? No, he didn’t mean it like that

“--you mortal brats are as measly as ever, it’s no wonder you died to your own kind” pause, no, no, no, no, no….-- what was he doing? He didn’t actually mean that-

“--killed by fellow sorcerers: pathetic. Dead and reborn, you’re still the desperate mutt crawling back to me..” Stop. Make it stop. Someone stop him. Stop/

“Uruame should be back here instead, seeing you is the biggest disappointment in this millennium”

Oh..

“... fine then.” Your voice is quiet, small. Don’t look at him like that.

Sukuna’s eyes widened, but he couldn't seem to say anything, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Instant dread pools into his stomach

“I see how it is. If that’s truly how you feel…”

“Wait no–” Sukuna starts, immediately tensing up as you lower your eyes onto his. He swallows, hard. He hated the dejected, – the defeated look on your face. You looked so sad, and Sukuna couldn’t bear to see you sad , – something that terrified him to no end, — you terrify him to no end. You elicit the most exotic of feelings within him, reviving his ancient, rotten, worm eaten heart to a thunderous boom. Sukuna is reminded of the times back then: you laying in the field, hand twining in his hair, lightly scraping his scalp, – him sighing in content like an old dog. There would be the half eaten corpse of some unfortunate sorcerer off to the side, and you’d occasionally hand feed one or two limbs to the second mouth on his stomach, tongue out and awaiting like a dog’s for a treat —Such tender moments, the power you have over him makes him feel weak in the knees. Every instinct within him told Sukuna to run, - to protect himself from this threat that was your adoration. The thrill gnawed at him from the inside, – but oh, the ecstasy from it felt so good.

But he was Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses – he couldn’t face having such an open weakness – taking on a lover would feel like he had gutted himself, taking away a fundamental aspect of his existence as a character. You just have to keep stoking the flames. ,

… “nevermind, just go. I could care less”

You do, closing the classroom door behind you, and Sukuna can’t help but feel as if half of his soul leaves with you. This happened every time: he’d push you away, only to immediately regret it, craving deeply for your validation.

Shit, seems like he really did have a lot to learn when it came to such fickle human emotions.

He’d make it up to you, – he always did.

—-------

You were the only one to bring him to his knees, the only deity the King would bring himself to worship , – and what a divine thing you were.

Those nights of infinite passion, – you underneath him, (and occasionally him under you–) he’d take you with the utmost care. Ryomen Sukuna has never been “gentle” with something, – let alone with another living individual, – but with you his touches were always so attentive, so skillful and purposeful. He never wanted to hear you scream in anything but pure pleasure.

On the most precious of those nights, you’d coax the sweetest of noises from his lips. You could’ve sworn he has whimpered, despite his firm denial.

You were his God.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A/N: thank you for the request <3

304 notes · View notes

a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 6 months

Text

Your Friendly Neighbor 2

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Warnings: fluff, allusion to social anxiety, reader has social anxiety, like a smidge of angst I think

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: You want to talk to your new neighbor more...

You are currently reading part 2 of Your Friendly Neighbor

Two weeks had passed since you had met your neighbor John MacTavish and though you had realized that the neighborhood you moved into was closer together than you had originally thought, you never would’ve expected anyone to try to include you in.

However, in between the slow moments of your days when you weren’t going to the store to get the items you had forgotten during the move or when you didn’t have work, John was speaking to you as if he had known you for years.

You didn’t mind. Whenever he talked to you, he was the one who would come up with what to talk about and would continue to talk about it even when you didn’t put that much input into it. Sometimes you would say something here and there, maybe say your opinion about the topic and then let him continue.

He always listened when you did. It seemed like whenever you opened your mouth he would turn all of his attention on you as if what you had to say was that important.

You didn’t see an issue with it until late one night you thought about the conversation you had with him hours before. How he always seemed to approach you when he saw you, yet you never approached him.

Then you realized that all of the times he had spoken to you, he had initiated the conversations and suddenly you started to spiral.

You spent the entire night thinking about it. You moved to the new neighborhood to find peace and quiet, to avoid anything too loud and to try to disappear from the earth. You were fine being the neighbor that was forgotten, or at least you were fine with being there in the background without any friends.

It was just easier that way…but your outgoing Scottish neighbor complicated things.

You liked him and it was pretty hard not to like him considering he had been the only one who hadn’t rolled his eyes or given you a dirty look when you cut conversations short or when you didn’t speak that much.

He accepted you pretty quick and easy, even when he didn't know you, he didn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that you were quiet most of the time.

It made you feel strange. You hoped it was a good strange, especially when you found yourself waiting for him when you left your apartment and that your heart beat just a little faster than normal when he looked at you.

He actually treated you like he wanted to speak to you. It was odd and scary to you, especially since to you it seemed like he was just having one sided conversations even when you listened to them intently, yet you couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling he gave you. Especially when he looked at you with soft eyes and gave you a big smile as if he looked forward to seeing you nearly everyday since he’s been home.

So the fact that he always initiated the conversations felt unfair to you. You wanted to call him a friend and in the back of your mind you thought he would leave if you didn’t reach out soon. You had to let him know you wanted a friendship too.

You stood in your kitchen with leftovers in your hand and picked at the skin on your lips the next day.

You had made the decision that you were going to talk to him first today and after struggling to come up with a topic, you remembered that you had leftovers from the night before that you could give him. You figured that it would not only show that you at least cared about him in some way but that you also cared about the newly budding friendship you had.

Except you were anxious about giving it to him.

Your stomach was tied up in knots all morning and the more you thought about giving it to him, the more your body began to shake.

What if he didn’t like it? You had no idea what his meal preferences were and if he had already had lunch. What if he thought it was weird you were giving him food when you barely knew him? What if, what if…

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath. Why was it so hard for you to just talk to people? Compared to John, who could strike up a conversation as easy as breathing, you felt pretty pathetic for not even being able to say hi to the other neighbors on the street.

It was just giving food to your neighbor, a mundane task, something that was easy and you knew that, yet for you it was like a near life or death situation.

“Come on…” You mumbled trying to hype yourself up. “Just do it.”

John caught your attention from inside his apartment by turning on his TV. He had gotten back from his run moments ago and usually after he had a shower he would watch whatever was on the channels on the TV.

You felt like a creep listening to him on the other side of the wall but you couldn’t help it. You were so quiet compared to him and considering that the walls were thin enough that you could hear when he was just walking around, it was hard not to listen.

You wouldn’t admit that to him though.

He’d be eating soon. You’d miss your opportunity if you didn’t take it now but you were still so anxious.

He would’ve already given you his leftovers and spoke to you for a couple hours or so if he was the one doing this. You just had to get into his mindset and do the same thing. You just had to put all inhibitions away and be like your neighbor, confident and extroverted.

You walked out of your apartment and hopped onto his front porch with a surge of energy. However, as soon as you knocked on the door your stomach fell to your feet and your heartbeat went into your ears.

Maybe you should've just left it on the porch for him to find later-

John opened the door just seconds later and a smile split across his face immediately. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone who was that happy to see you and you felt your heart flutter even more.

“Hey, hen.” His eyes bounced around your face as he stood in the doorway. “How are ya?”

“I brought this for you.” You stuttered over your words, unable to answer his question before you held up the tupperware for him to see.

His face lit up with surprise and he gently took the leftovers from you. Warmth spread across his face and you thought you noticed his cheeks turning a little more pink as he inspected the food in the container with bright eyes.

He seemed genuinely touched by it, especially when he snapped his head back at you with a grin across his face like you had just given him something that was more than just last night’s dinner.

It barely took away the anxiety but at least you knew this was a good step forward.

“I would’ve had you move in sooner if it meant I got free food.” He grinned and laughed, causing you to let out a quick chuckle. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I hope you like it.” You gave him a small smile, feeling accomplished that your plan worked.

“I’ll eat anything…you should join me.”

You blinked a couple times and stared at him in confusion. You didn’t expect him to want to eat lunch with you, you only expected him to take the food and talk to you for a couple moments before you both went your separate ways for lunch.

You weren’t sure if you could come up with something to talk about since your entire mind had been on giving him the leftovers.

But this would be the best opportunity to start a conversation with him…

“We’ll eat in the garden.” He began almost excitedly. “It’s a mess in here but it’s a nice day.”

“Okay…” You didn’t argue as he went back into his apartment.

You awkwardly waited for him to return, unsure of whether or not you should go to the back garden before him or if you should wait. You chewed on your bottom lip before he reappeared again with two plates of reheated food and a grin still on his face.

You flashed him a quick smile of your own before you followed him to his garden.

You hesitantly sat down on the somewhat dusty outside chairs and gratefully took the food from him when he handed it to you. You sat it on your lap, your stomach still up in knots as you watched him pull the other chair closer to you before he sat down.

You waited almost with bated breath for him to take a bite and as soon as he did he melted in his chair.

“Steamin’ Jesus, this is fucking amazing.” John began to eat the leftovers as if the food would disappear right in front of him. “How much do I have to pay you to get more?”

You couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh that made his eyes soften while you shook your head. You felt some of the anxiety leave your body while your face heated up and you glanced between him and your plate.

“Nothing, I’ll just bring them over when I have them.”

“Only if you’ve eaten your fill.”

He posed it as a playful threat, though there was a look in his eyes that said he meant business if you decided to skimp out of meals just to give him leftovers. You quickly assured him that he wouldn’t have to worry about that before the two of you were stuck in conversation like normal.

It was easy…for him.

You once again fell into your place of staying quiet and giving small input here and there. You didn’t hate what he was talking about and you were engaged in the conversation, but you couldn’t help but think about how you should be the one starting the conversations right now.

You weren’t sure what to say, what to talk about and you tried your hardest to hide the pit in your stomach while under his gaze.

There was a lull in the conversation and you swallowed hard, ready to force the words out of your mouth but he beat you to it.

“Have you been to town yet?” He wondered and you shrugged, trying to hide the disappointment in yourself as he looked at you.

“Just for groceries.” You told him while you finished your plate of food but he shook his head. “What?”

“Cannae believe you’ve been missing out on everything else. Breaking my heart, hen.”

You raised an eyebrow at his dramatic display of disapproval which nearly made you chuckle as he looked at you as if you had just offended him. You nodded for him to go on and he gave you a fake sigh.

“There’s so much more than the store, like the pub and the park.” He listed off the other things to do in town and you expected him to continue but when he didn’t you scoffed.

“Just the pub and the park?” You repeated skeptically and he smirked.

“There might be another pub, but I only go to one.”

You laughed in disbelief. You weren’t sure if he was teasing you or not and the smirk on his face didn’t help. He seemed to be adamant that the two things he listed were something not worth missing out on and you couldn’t help but find the absurdity funny.

He really had a knack for making you laugh.

“I’ll have to go into town soon to look at the pub and the park then.” You said and he hummed deeply.

John went quiet and for a moment you didn't think anything of it, expecting him to come up with a new topic to talk about. However, when that didn’t happen you glanced up at him to see that he was fidgeting with his fork as if he was nervous.

He looked at you and you saw uncertainty flash in his eyes.

“I could show ye around town.” He offered softly. “Make a day out of it and I’ll even repay you for lunch.”

“You don't have to do that.” You assured him but he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Cannae let you give me food and then not repay you.”

You wanted to argue and you nearly did but he stopped you. You admired his generosity but you didn’t want to burden him with showing you around town as well as force him to buy you lunch. Not when you could do both of those things but just haven’t made yourself do it.

He was too adamant about it, too stubborn to let you refuse. He leaned forward and gave you a reassuring smile, keeping your attention and thoughts on him.

“Don’t worry yer pretty head about anything. Let me show you around, I’ll make it fun, promise.”

There wasn’t anything you could say to turn him down. There were no excuses and if you were being honest with yourself it sounded nice to visit the town with him. You’d get to explore and you would have more opportunities to initiate the conversations next time, to show that you really wanted this friendship to be from both sides.

You could show him that you weren’t weird and that you could actually talk to people.

“Okay.”

John lit up and you mirrored his infectious smile. You don’t think you’ve ever been around someone who made you feel so relaxed and smile so effortlessly before. He was just so confident that it rubbed off on you and you couldn’t help but let it happen.

He took your empty plate with him and walked you back to your apartment despite it being just a few feet away while the two of you talked about the plan for tomorrow.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He sent you a wink that made your cheeks heat up.

“Don’t be late.” You teased back in an attempt to keep up the confidence.

His face softened and it seemed like he took the comment to heart even though it was a joke. There was a twinkle in his eye, something you couldn’t quite pin down as he stared at you for just a moment, his eyes bouncing around your face before he flashed you one last toothy smile before he walked back to his front door.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Link to part 3

A/N: So sorry for how long this took! Does this make sense, like at all lol? Idk I had to rewrite this a couple times so I'm hoping this is something. Sorry for it being short too

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap @okayyadriana @ryeillustrates @dead-cipher @regatoni1 @pampeop @abbiesxox @perfectus-in-morte @94pigeons @hannas16 @bajadotcom

#your friendly neighbor #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #mw2 soap

767 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 6 months

Note

oh my god there are so many good choice on the touching prompt list for Ace!Tav and Astarion. But since it’s first numerically may I please request 3?

Summary: You finally arrive in Baldur's Gate and you can't sleep. Normally this would mean taking the nearest instrument and playing until your hands are raw. Luckily for your fingers, Astarion is there to listen.

Prompt: hiding face in neck

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

A/N: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to get to this. I swear to god I wrote like five different versions of this thing. Let's give it up for over writing! Enjoy.

Word Count: 1.8K

The night felt oddly still for Baldur’s Gate. You’d traveled so far, done and seen so much and you were finally here. It should have brought you relief; instead, all you could think about was all you had left to do. There were still the tadpoles to deal with and devils and gods and frankly all the things you’d never given a second thought to the last time you stepped through the gates. Perhaps the city felt it as well, collectively holding its breath for whatever was coming next.

You let out a deep sigh, staring up at the darkened ceiling. There would be no hope of sleep tonight. The best you could do was find a way to pass the hours without going mad.

As carefully as you could, you slipped out of bed, mindful of Astarion resting soundly next to you. For all your troubles, they were nothing compared to the horrors coming for him. You wouldn’t disturb his rare moment of peace for the world.

In easy strides you grabbed your lute and made your way to the balcony where a comfortable enough chaise awaited you.

No lamps were needed. Between the moon and the street lamps below, you could see well enough to play for an audience of one.

You started with something easy, plucking out a handful of scales to warm up your hands. It didn’t take long after that for a melody to form, pushing your worries further and further away. Lyrics slipped their way past your lips in whispers and half remembered hums. You were here. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You had control over your body and the sounds pulled from the instrument in your hands. There was still time. The morning hadn’t found you yet.

Soft footsteps approached from behind you; the obvious padding of bare feet on wooden floor boards given just enough extra weight so as not to startle you. Astarion could be very considerate at times.

You paused your hands, turning to face him.

“Sorry, was I playing too loud?”

“Not at all,” he assured. “How else was I supposed to find you after waking to a cold, empty bed?”

You had to at least smile at his dramatics, which seemed to please him as he stepped further onto the balcony.

The light of the moon gave his already pale skin and iridescent glow. His silver curls were just a little ruffled from their perfect coif as his eyes held you with a tired softness that made you ache. It was in moments like this you remembered why poetry existed; paints, canvas, marble, clay, they were too clumsy of tools to capture all of him.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, pulling you from your musings.

“Just needed to clear my head,” you said. “Didn’t want to bother anyone with my plucking.”

“Perish the thought. I rather enjoy your plucking.” He nodded to the empty spot next to you. “May I?”

You couldn’t think of a reason to argue, so you didn’t try. Astarion had proved himself one of the few people you could enjoy a peaceful silence with. So long as he didn’t expect you to entertain him, there was no harm done.

You scooted over to allow him room.

He took it, only to pull you against him, caging you between his legs.

You gave a small yelp of surprise, only just managing to keep hold of your lute. “What are you doing?”

“Making myself comfortable.” His hands found your waist, pulling you closer so your back rested against his chest while his chin made a home on your shoulder. “Go on dearest, start plucking.”

You snorted out a laugh. Gods above, he really was a cat sometimes. He didn’t ask for attention so much as demand it and in a way only the most heartless could be upset by.

“It’s rather difficult for me to perform with my back to the audience,” you said as some attempt at protest.

He gave a noncommittal hum. “I’m inclined to disagree. But if it does bother you, consider me a humble patron observing a rehearsal.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Settling back as best you could, you began again, humming a tune to yourself as you worked out the cords.

A different kind of peace settled over you as he held you. You had come here to be alone, something you had gotten used to over the years. Astarion didn’t have to be here with you, but he was. He chose to sit here in the dark and listen as you played your troubles into the air. It was an alien comfort, one that still left you a little unsure, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one before,” Astarion observed, gently breaking the silence.

“I would think not, seeing how it’s only been in my head for the last few months,” you teased.

He nodded as you felt him shift awkwardly beneath you. “Far be it for me to speak on your artistic vision, but is it meant to be so repetitive?”

You stopped your playing as a flush of warmth came to your cheeks. There was a reason why rehearsals were usually kept private. “Sorry, can’t seem to find the ending.”

“Might be easier if you wrote it down,” he suggested.

“That would require me knowing how.”

“You don’t know how to write music?” He sounded so genuinely surprised, you had to laugh.

“Love, I don’t even know how to read it.”

“Really?”

You shrugged. “Just not how I learned. They weren’t exactly letting riff raff like me into the conservatory.”

You could all but feel the furrow of his brow as his chin pressed against your shoulder. “So every song you’ve ever played, original or otherwise, you taught yourself, by ear, and stored away in that head of yours?”

“You make it sound more impressive than it actually is. Plenty of bards do the exact same thing,” you dismissed.

He hummed in thought. “Perhaps. It does explain why so many of them don’t seem to have anything going on behind the eyes.”

“I’ll try not to be insulted.”

“Present company excluded,” he amended, pressing a kiss to the back of your ear for good measure. “Why do you think I’m so impressed? Beauty, talent and brains are such a rare combination.”

You gave a small huff, earning you another kiss on the temple.

“I’m sure we could find somebody in the city to teach you,” he offered.

You shook your head. “Not interested. Besides, I’ve found it an effective filtration method. If I can’t remember the tune the next day, it probably wasn’t worth learning in the first place.”

“Oh darling, who knew you could be so cruel to your fellow artists,” he said, full of approval. “But, what about when a song of yours is done? Surely then it would be worth preserving.”

“If I’ve done my job well, then the memories of those who have heard it will be preservation enough,” you said. “It’s how all the best songs are passed on anyway. The specifics of who wrote it and when get lost, but the melody remains. It stays in the world because people want it to stay in the world. I think there’s a kind of poetry in that.”

He let out a long exasperated sigh. “How nauseatingly romantic of you. One little problem though, people’s memories are shit. Give it a few centuries and it will barely resemble the original. At least if you write it down they can’t muck it up.”

“It’s obvious you haven’t met many musicians,” you said, dryly. “People are always going to have their own interpretations. Putting it down on paper doesn’t make it any less a memory. Personally, I’d rather keep it living in the mind than in a stagnant drawer somewhere.”

“Or I can just make sure nothing happens to the original.”

He tried to keep his voice light, but there was promise beneath that tingled at the back of your neck. His arms held you a little more tightly. His body tensed. It was as if he was trying to guard you from something, but who or what you could only guess at.

“Astarion–”

“Don’t,” he said, sharply. “I know you want to say something comforting and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear you go on about memory or legacy or things to remember after you’re gone, because you’re not gone. You’re here. You’re here with me, and I don’t care who I have to kill or what bargains I need to make, but I’m not letting you go.”

He turned his face into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. To your surprise, no teeth accompanied the gesture. He just breathed, inhaling your scent deep into his lungs. His touch lingered on your skin as some of the tension left his body; the steady beating of your heart calming him.

“I don’t want memories,” he whispered. “I just want you.”

Your lips parted to speak, but quickly closed. You knew there was a correct thing to say. Letting go was a part of life, whether you liked it or not. Sooner or later, everyone became a memory; but, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear and that wasn’t what you felt.

The promise he made wasn’t some collection of meaningless words, but a desperate, blood soaked plea. For the first time in so long, you knew somebody would be upset if you died, not for the loss of income or poetry, but because you would be gone.

You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to tell him you didn’t just want memories either. You wanted to make the same promise and then hide away somewhere safe where the world wouldn’t dare touch either of you; but, you didn’t say that either.

Instead you placed your hand over his, squeezing his fingers.

“You have me,” you said, softly. “I’m right here.”

A shuddering breath left his body, as if all the emotion he had been containing was suddenly pushed from his lungs. His arms stayed around you, but his whole body relaxed as his head found a new place to live buried in your neck.

“Keep playing, my heart,” he said. “Don’t stop.”

How could anyone say no to such a request?

Your hands found a melody, different from the one before; something complete and familiar. As soon as the song finished you transitioned to another and then another, never stopping until Astarion’s hold became slack and his breathing turned deep and steady, signaling his trace. Only then did you set down your lute and curled into his arms to finally sleep.

You would finish your composition another night. The morning would find you, but you had time. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You were here and you were going to stay.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #asexual #asexual!tav #asexaul!reader #bard!tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

561 notes · View notes

rynfiles · 6 months

Text

dad next door !

✎ᝰ — your brand-new apartment has brought you peace, calm, and freedom. but no one mentioned of a father of a two

★ — satoru gojo x gn!reader

★ — word count: 1.6k

★ — genre + warnings: fluff + dad!gojo, gojo is in his early twenties (21-23), gojo is a nervous mess, megumi and his smart antics, tsumiki is y/n’s number one fan

The space is small, yet livable. Your new apartment brings you this sense of freedom and independence from your loving, yet overbearing, parents. As much as you love them dearly, the thought of continuing to live under their roof was going to drive you mad. Which led to your brand new apartment, not the best but you made do with your stay.

As you continue to unpack your things, you hear noises coming from the other side of your living room wall. You ignored them by putting on your headphones and playing music as time passed.

Yet some hours passed, only three, and the noise continued. You moved closer to the wall to decipher what was creating such a loud noise. The only thing you could make out was a loud TV, yelling from multiple people you assume, and children. Your heart grew soft and sympathy grew in your heart for the assumed noise of children, since you know how children can be, especially at young ages when their emotions run rampant.

Though, as much as children softened your heart, the noise was becoming unbearable and you wanted your first day in your apartment to be perfect. You planned to be nice, introduce yourself, and ask your neighbor to possibly lower the noise coming from their apartment.

You paused your music and took off your headphones. You grabbed your phone and headed out the door, only making a few steps to your left until you reached the next apartment door.

You knocked gently, as you waited you heard the noise more clearly. You realized it was an adult and a child going back and forth while the TV was playing a children’s show. You heard some of the argument and giggled to yourself at some of the insults that were sent.

You continued to wait yet the door hadn’t opened nor had there been any indication that someone was going to open. You knocked again, a bit louder this time, and someone, you assumed was the adult, yelled that they were coming. Not long after, the door was opened and you were met with a man who had a staggering height, but that didn’t bother you.

The man had hair as white as the winter snow, which was decorated with those ball scrunchies and small heart clips that should be found on a small girl, not a grown (potentially over twenty) man. He wore a fitted tank top that had a dad joke on it and black shorts to accompany the outfit. His face in particular was graced with lashes that were thick and lay beautifully above his blue eyes. Also, his youthful face is currently covered in stickers galore, many of dinosaurs and flowers.

He greeted you with a smile, it brought youth to his face and gave sincerity, and apologies for taking so long to answer.

You reassured him that he was okay and also introduced yourself. You explained to him how you were his neighbor but also reported to him the noise from his apartment was bothering you. You tried not to come off as rude, since it is your first day.

He apologizes almost too quickly, mild stutters as he speaks, “Sorry sorry, my two- I mean these two kids have been hauling my ass since seven am.”

“I assumed it was younger children that were in there. Though, could you do me a favor and turn down the TV as well? The whole apartment doesn’t need to hear what you guys are watching.”

The man turns in the direction of the TV and lightly smacks his forehead, “Ah, that must’ve been Tsumiki with her runway model shows. I don’t know why but she always excuses that she has terrible hearing and always has the TV-”

“What about Tsumiki?” A young boy with spiked hair appears behind the man. The boy wears an expression that debates whether to tussle with the tall man or mind his business. With his presence now here, he chose the first option. Yet the stickers and hair clips placed on his hair and face don’t make him serious enough to take.

“Kid-”

The boy scrunched his face, showing a sign of annoyance to the man in front of him. “My name is Megumi, Meh-gu-mi. Don’t try to be all “mister cool” cause you think our new neighbor is hot.”

The man’s jaw dropped and all you could giggle at the compliment that was given. You spot his cheeks beaming with a light shade of red but disregard it as the man clears his throat. “Megumi, do me a favor and stay out of adult spaces.”

The boy sucked his teeth, “You were literally a child not many years ago, in dog years if you count.” The boy mumbled the last part but it was loud enough for the older man to hear.

The two males continue to go back and forth until a small girl approaches next to the small boy. From the height alone she could be the eldest of the two children, and her face was also decorated with stickers. It was cute to see the tall male and the two children behind him covered in all kinds of stickers on their face and their hair styled in hair clips.

The girl comes over to see what all the commotion is. But instead, she turns to you and immediately starts complimenting you, she smiles with such fondness to your beauty. She starts to compliment your hair, even if it is simple for the busy day, your outfit, and how you look so perfect. She believes so deeply that you came out of a magazine and all you could do was thank her and smile back. The girl just seemed all admired about you, even if she only met you about two minutes ago.

She turns to the older male to ask, “Can they join us for dinner papa Gojo?”

The boy scoffs at the question, “Don’t give him any ideas, he might scare the new neighbor away.” The blushing from earlier returns and the older man, named Gojo (?), seems to be slightly offended at the boy's remark.

The girl ignores the boy and pleads with Gojo, you continue to watch the two children and the man banter with one another. The interaction seemed to look serious from an outsider’s perspective, but up close, it was adorable watching them interact. Even if the boy seemed very annoyed with the entire situation, the girl poked his cheeks and played with his hair to uplift his mood, while the man told the two children to turn down the TV and check on the food cooking.

Gojo brings his attention back to you and smiles nervously, he laughs nervously as well. He brings his hand to comb through the back of his hair, “Sorry about them, they’re not usually this noisy on a Friday afternoon. Especially Megumi, he’s usually playing with his figures with Tsumiki, never this intrusive.”

“Don’t worry, I have younger siblings and we bicker quite a lot, so I get it. But I will admit that you guys are an adorable little family.”

The man blushes quickly but tries to hide it quickly, “Ah, thank you.” He grows nervous and lets the air become this sense of nervousness. He will admit, he wouldn’t have thought to have a neighbor as stunning as you and comfortable around his children. Then again, his two children take too much of his time to even pay attention to the people in his environment.

He clears his throat, “Umm, you don’t have to join but Tsumiki, the little girl, is gonna keep asking about dinner and I’m already in trouble with her. If you don’t mind, you don’t have to, but you can join us for dinner if you’re not too busy.” The blushing on his cheeks stayed yet you notice his ears turning into a light hue of pink as well, nervousness is ruining this man.

You think for a little while, letting the man watch you think and his face shows more and more signs of nervousness. You answer with a nod and a small smile, “I don’t mind at all. It would be nice to learn some faces in this town.”

Gojo seems more than happy to hear your acceptance, “We’d love to welcome you, Tsumiki loves making new friends and Megumi could get a friend or two. Geez this kid.”

You gave a small laugh and thanked him, you turned to make your exit until Gojo stopped you. “Oh umm, by-by the way, I didn’t get to properly introduce myself. I’m Gojo, umm Satoru Gojo. I’m right next door, literally, if you need anything.”

“Oh thanks, it was nice talking to you Satoru, and your two kids I assume, Megumi and Tsumiki?” The way you said his first name had Gojo going from a blushing mess to a flustered, stuttering mess. He feels heat rising in his cheeks and ears, embarrassment adds in as thinks that he shouldn’t be this nervous around his new neighbor.

“Yeah, that’s their name.” He pauses and lets his nervousness settle between the two of you, “Umm, well it was great to meet you y/n, and uhh gotta get back to finishing dinner, two hungry children aren’t the prettiest sight to see.”

“I would love to be the judge of that tonight,” you turn to walk away from his doorway and wave him goodbye, “have a good day Satoru, see you tonight.”

Gojo waves back and closes the door once you step into your apartment. He roughly combs through his hair and sighs heavily, “I don’t know who’s gonna end me first, these damn kids or dinner with y/n.”

★ I got this fanfic idea from this fanart actually ! I thought gojo and the kids were so cute with their stickers and clips on their face and hair 🫶🏽

714 notes · View notes

rowdyslove · 7 months

Text

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. | quinn hughes

through your state of quiet tranquility, a lower pitched snore tore you out of the calming silence in the room. your eyes averted away from your phone screen and down to the figure resting soundly against your chest. the sound that filled your ears was somewhat unfamiliar to you. it felt so unknown to you that the only thing you could do was simply stare fondly at the man in your arms.

from the way your days would end and then begin, it seemed like quinn never got any sleep. he was never the first one to fall asleep at night, no matter how late it may have been. and he was always the first one awake in the early mornings when you opened your eyes. there were plenty of times where you even wondered if he ever slept at all, since you never caught sight of him taking short naps or even dozing off whenever you were around.

after a while, the nickname ‘sleepyhead’ was what the man had given to you. after all, it was always him being left to watch your sleeping form, and to see you awaken in the morning.

and now, even though it hadn’t really been the first time of you seeing such a sight, quinn was the one sound asleep before you; head resting above your heart, and an arm draped over your stomach.

however, it still came as a surprise to you.

the feelings of warmth and security made their way throughout your entire body every time you saw the sight of your boyfriend sleeping—especially when he was tucked right into your side.

the man had told you many times how ‘your arms were the only place he could sleep soundly’ or how ‘whenever he was next to you was when he found the most peace.’—and now seeing for yourself that his words were true, made your heart fill with admiration even more. hearing his even and slow breaths, and the peaceful snores that left his lips and fanned over the crook of your neck where his head laid, had you feeling sort of prideful.

your phone now lay long forgotten somewhere in the sheets as your hand now occupied itself with combing softly through his hair, as you knew that the feeling of you softly scratching at his scalp helped relax him. your whole frame felt stiff, careful to not make too many big movements, determined to not awaken quinn so he could get his much deserved rest. you knew that he wouldn’t be sleeping for too long anyways; he would definitely wake up sooner or later and end up staying up for the rest of the night watching through game highlights.

but the state he was in right now, was too precious for you to want to interrupt.

you couldn’t help but smile softly down at him. when his light pink lips were left slightly open letting out quiet breaths, his limbs loosely hugging you close to him, and his dark tufts of hair a slight mess tickling your skin.

it was truly a sight you never wanted to lose; a view that was just so captivating, that you wanted to keep it engraved in the sight of your head forever.

until you felt him stirring against you, flinching lightly in your hold, and his tired eyes opening faintly with a small look of confusion etching onto his features. the full sight of him this close you adored so dearly, even though you would have liked for him to sleep just a little bit more.

yet the pure look of innocence that took over his face right after a nap, or a good nights sleep was nothing but lovely.

a small giggle elicited from your lips unintentionally at his state. quinn looked up to you through his hooded gaze, the feel of your chest vibrating against him causing a blush to lightly coat his cheeks. he felt caught. almost as though falling asleep was not in his plans and the thought of you watching him felt a bit embarrassing.

“hello there, sleepyhead.”

another giggle came from your lips as you spoke, and quinn just buried his face further into your chest at the sound of you calling him the nickname he gave you first.

your arms snuck around him tightly, letting yourself relish in the feeling of having your love so close to you like this, and you could feel him shake in a short chuckle with his arms pulling you closer than before—as though he needed to feel you closer, longing for your touch even more. the heat filling under the sheets you were tangled in became hotter, but neither of you could really care less in this moment.

“i didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“you deserve the rest more than you know, honey.” you lightly ruffled his hair, and you could feel his lips tug upwards against your skin as his face rested back into your neck.

moments you spent like this were just bound to turn into memories that would cloud your mind forever, and you hoped that they would keep coming until the ends of time, as long as they were spent with the man you called ‘yours.’

#—ness writes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl fluff #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #qh43

613 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 7 months

Text

I'm Right Here

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: After the threat of Sanctuary came to an end and peace returned, you stayed behind in Alexandria where Daryl felt you’d be safest, but he continued with the rebuilding efforts outside of Alexandria's confining walls. With Daryl gone for days on end, you soon found yourself constantly plagued by nightmares again–and the fear that he no longer wanted you.

Warnings/Tags: 18+; light angst, graphic violence, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort, implied smut

a/n: I used to write for Daryl so much years ago and have been dying to write for him again! I do have another fic in the works for him and feedback is always appreciated!

With the flashlight aimed straight ahead of yourself, you stepped one foot carefully inside of the dilapidated and darkened clinic. Cautiously you began to shift your weight forward onto your foot, internally praying that nothing was lurking behind the dust-covered front desk on the wall to your right. It was damn near impossible to see anything inside the building without the light from your flashlight with the way the windows had long since been boarded up.

Gradually you eased your way further inside the building, one foot moving slowly after the other as you scanned the room from left to right. You left the entrance to the clinic ajar behind you in the event you needed to run; you didn’t want to waste time fighting with a closed door if a handful of walkers surprised you in these dark, enclosed quarters. But that didn’t stop the hairs raising along your forearms, a prickle of fear running through you at the prospect of something or someone sneaking up behind you while you searched for the medical supplies your group desperately needed. Though you knew Daryl was out checking the perimeter right now, which meant nothing undead should be able to sneak up on you from the outside at least.

Scanning what once had been a waiting room, you saw a handful of upturned plastic chairs scattered along the floor. A few were broken in what must’ve been a scuffle that’d occurred at some point since the world had gone to shit. Garbage and debris littered the outdated tile floor, but thankfully there were no dead lying dormant nearby.

Shining your flashlight upwards, always overly cautious, you spotted the sagging ceiling tiles from compounding water damage over the years. You grimaced, internally planning to give the area beneath it a wide berth. You didn’t want to risk being trapped under debris if the ceiling happened to collapse while you were here.

Lowering the flashlight beam, you scanned the waiting area once more before dropping your guard just a little bit more. You wanted to get in and out of here as fast as you could so that you could get back to the others before the sun set tonight. It wasn’t exactly like you had time to waste since Michonne desperately needed whatever supplies you could find here. Unfortunately taking your time fully scanning the area like you usually would wasn’t an option right now–and at least Daryl wasn’t in here to scold you for that.

Feet hurrying across the dirty, tiled floor, you made your way through the waiting room and towards the door all the way at the back of the room. Most likely it led to the actual patient rooms where there would hopefully be some basic supplies not too picked over. And maybe if you were lucky there would be a supply closet somewhere around here that hadn’t been picked clean yet, either. Though admittedly whatever you could get your hands on would have to do for now.

Stopping in front of the door, you briefly switched your flashlight to the same hand as your knife, awkwardly holding the pair as you reached out with your now free hand, twisting the door handle before gently pushing it open just a crack. Immediately you readied yourself, swapping your flashlight back into your other hand and raising your knife, ready to strike a walker if it came barreling towards you.

Except only silence met your ears.

Carefully you pressed a shoulder up against the door, pushing it open wider. The beam of your flashlight instantly flooded the short, dark hallway. There were three doors to your right and three to your left, a single door at the opposite end of the tight space.

Teeth gritting nervously together, you slowly slipped around the door you’d just opened, surveying the few open rooms as you moved. You didn’t like that only a couple of the doors were closed, that fear of something sneaking up behind you only growing. With your heart hammering just a bit harder in your chest, you moved carefully to the open room on your right.

Shining your flashlight inside, you spotted what looked like a regular doctor’s office. A tattered and sun-faded bed was to the far right, a cork board covered with photos and holiday cards with dates from years long past were on the wall just beside it. As you shined the flashlight to your left in the small space, you spotted two more of those plastic chairs you’d seen in the waiting room lined against the wall. Shining the beam further to your right, just beside the door you’d stepped through, you spotted a sink and a few cabinets on the wall opposite of the bed.

Relief flooded through you as you hurried over, quickly opening the cabinets on the wall. You found gauze, cotton swabs, bandaids of different sizes and shapes, and rubbing alcohol filling the shelves. Eyes widening in surprise at the abundance of supplies, you swiftly removed the backpack from your back, setting it down onto the countertop beside the sink with a soft thunk . The sound of the zipper being undone was loud in your ears, contrasting with how quiet the clinic was as you opened the main compartment of your bag, but you kept your focus on the task of grabbing everything you could as quickly as you could.

With your bag open and your left hand shining the flashlight onto the cabinet’s shelves, you set your knife down beside your bag on the counter. Hurriedly you began to swipe item after item, tossing each one into your backpack one after the other. You figured if there were items like these still here in this room, there was hope that something even more useful might be found in a supply closet somewhere.

Though while you frantically continued to fill your bag with medical supplies, you’d admittedly become so distracted by your thoughts of what else you might find that you hadn’t realized you weren’t alone anymore. It wasn’t until the walker lurking nearby had come up behind you, latching onto your shoulders with its partially decaying hands in a grip that felt far too strong for anything other than a newly turned undead, that you’d accidentally startled and screamed. In your fright, your hand bumped your knife that you’d set onto the counter and it proceeded to fly off the countertop, landing with a loud clatter by your feet and entirely out of your reach.

Struggling against the walker's grip on you as it shoved you further forward, the countertop biting uncomfortably into your stomach, you heard more rasping and growling coming from nearby. Your hand flew backwards, trying to smash the walker’s head in with the butt of your flashlight, but its skull was considerably more solid than a walker that had been decomposing for far longer than this one. A wash of fear ran through you when you realized your flashlight wasn’t going to be able to save you right now.

Still struggling to remain out of the reach of the walker’s teeth, your hand precariously placed against the thing’s unnaturally pale forehead, you tried with all your strength to shove it backwards. But that familiar sound of more loud, rasping, growls soon met your ears once again–this time louder. Seconds later there were more walkers shuffling in through the door, the movement catching your eye. In your unfortunate moment of distraction, the walker you’d been trying so hard to hold back leaned forward just enough to sink its teeth onto your wrist and clamp down hard.

A scream ripped its way up through your chest, tearing its way shrilly out of your mouth as the walker bit off a chunk of flesh and muscle. Hot, fresh blood began gushing its way down your arm as visceral pain shot through your body so blindingly powerful that you hadn’t even noticed the other walkers already descending on you. Though soon you felt their hungry hands grabbing at your arms and your back just before another sharp burst of searing agony cut through you when a second set of teeth dug into your back, just below your left shoulder. You cried out, warm tears spilling forth as realization set in.

They were going to eat you alive.

A third set of teeth snapped at your neck, a strangled cry weakly flying out of you as it clamped down hard on your skin. More of your blood began to soak you as the thing tore away another mass of your flesh, the coppery tang of it strong in the air. But as the bodies of the dead continued to press you further into the corner, keeping you trapped as they continued to tear into you, you swore you heard Daryl’s voice calling your name. Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut at the sound of it, your mind trying to focus on that instead of the hands and teeth repeatedly clawing and biting at you.

But just as you’d tried to focus on his familiar and comforting voice, another set of teeth latched onto the side of your jaw and a scream shot itself out of you yet again when the walker’s mouth viciously pulled .

Eyes flying wide open, your heart was fiercely pounding away against the confines of your ribcage, thrumming so hard that you could feel it in your throat. Your body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, the sheets beneath you noticeably damp against your slickened skin. Gasping and wheezing for air, your hands fisted the soft cotton sheets that felt so wrong in this world, though it took your mind a moment longer to register that your right hand had actually tightened around someone else's instead of fabric. A second after that you noticed the weight of a hand gently residing on your bicep and your pulse swiftly escalated further as your head darted to the side along the pillow, expecting to find a walker holding you down on the bed with its rotted and discolored teeth barred in hunger at you.

Instead you saw Daryl kneeling beside you at almost eye level. His long dark hair was its usual disheveled and dirty state on his head, a few of the strands falling into his face. The corners of his eyes were creased in concern as they focused on you, his face contorted into worry despite the thin line of his lips. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you couldn’t miss the panic and fear written so plainly on his face.

"Hey, hey," he soothed in that familiar gravelly voice. "'S'me. You're alright. Just a dream."

Swallowing hard, you continued to pant heavily while attempting to calm the racing of your heart, Daryl’s hand reassuringly squeezing yours as you inhaled a shuddering breath. As usual, your nightmare tonight had been disturbingly vivid and it required a minute for you to remind yourself that it had only just been a dream. You’d been having them for weeks now almost nonstop, though you’d first begun to have them back when the dead had initially begun to rise. But you’d quickly noticed that they didn’t trouble you whenever Daryl was around, especially once the two of you had long since stopped dancing around your feelings for each other and become a couple.

Usually you’d spent most nights at his side, comfortably and safely curled up against his solid and reassuring body. You used to fall asleep to the even sound of his breath in your ears and the warmth of him against you. But he’d been restless ever since Negan had been dealt with and Sanctuary had fallen. He’d been spending all of his time outside of the looming walls of Alexandria helping Rick and the others with whatever he could, clearly trying to work through some of his own shit–or trying to ignore it. Occasionally, every few days, he’d stop back in Alexandria to deliver whatever food he’d caught and stay the night with you. Though the last time he had done that was so long ago now that you couldn’t exactly remember how long ago it had actually been.

And he absolutely refused to take you with him. Always telling you that you were safer here , behind the walls and in the community. With everyone else. But the truth was that you missed him. Missed his comforting presence being such a constant around you. You hated pretending that life was safe and peaceful and perfect in this little community day in and day out with its electricity and showers and fancy home decor. It resembled a life you’d had once, one that was long gone. You worried it was making you soft, wearing you and the others down to something weak .

That fear was what you figured had restarted your nightmares here. Your dreams always involved you or someone else–often Daryl–making a stupid mistake and getting themselves torn apart by the dead. Or of an invading group coming in and taking over, easily picking all of you off one by one because you’d become too trusting and naive in your communities.

But you figured the nightmares had also restarted because of the distance it felt like Daryl was putting between the pair of you, both physically and emotionally. You barely saw him anymore. It felt like you were losing him and that terrified you. Though of course you never told him that, too afraid that such blunt honesty would fully send him running from you. You never told him about the nightmares, either. The only one you’d confided any of that with was Carol.

Carol.

She must’ve said something to Daryl if he was here right now, kneeling beside your bed and silently staring at you with that pained expression on his handsome face. There was no other reason he’d have shown up in the middle of the night like this. He only ever showed up in the afternoons when the day was half over.

“Hey,” you greeted him awkwardly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Hey,” his deep voice rasped out. “Heard ya screamin’ from downstairs.”

“Right,” you whispered, eyes dropping down to where his hands were still holding onto you. “Had a nightmare, that’s all.”

Daryl grunted out a noise in response. You could feel the way his eyes were fixed on you right now, studying you carefully. The weight of his stare was beginning to make you anxious and unsure of what to say next.

“Carol said you’ve been havin’ ‘em for a while now,” he said a moment later. “How come ya didn’t tell me ‘bout ‘em?”

“Can’t really talk to you when you’re not here.”

The words had left your mouth before you even had a chance to stop them. Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes darted back up to his face. Obvious hurt was etched across his features in the dim moonlight slipping past the curtains. You opened your mouth to apologize and take the words back, terrified you’d just made the mistake of upsetting him and sending him running off on his bike and avoiding you for days on end, but his reaction surprised you.

“You’re right,” he muttered guiltily. “Haven’t been here with ya much lately 'cause I been busy helpin' Rick.”

For a moment you laid there stunned, mouth still hanging open as you gaped at him. That was absolutely not the response you’d have expected from him. Daryl usually growled and got angry, disappearing for days on end, leaving you without a word while he attempted to process his emotions and thoughts. You had never liked when he did that, rare as it often had been lately, but you knew he had a complicated past which had often complicated his ability to discuss emotions and feelings, even with you. It was why you hadn’t said anything about his disappearances, choosing to bottle up your own feelings instead. You already saw him so infrequently, you didn’t want to risk him disappearing for even longer periods of time.

But it seemed like right now you were both about to discuss his growing absence, no longer able to put it off. And for some reason that only had nerves twisting and roiling uncomfortably in your stomach, afraid this wasn’t a conversation that would end well.

“Why?” you asked him timidly, pushing yourself slowly upright in the bed. “Are you…not wanting to do this anymore? With me?”

Daryl’s face twisted into a look of confusion and shock at your question. The sight of him so taken off guard by that idea helped ease a bit of your nerves, though you still felt the way your stomach was knotting inside of you in anticipation of his answer.

“What?” he asked sharply, eyes narrowing in disbelief at you.

He shook his head, his hands finally releasing their hold on you as he abruptly pushed off the bed, rising back up to his full height. He paced his way towards the other side of the room, his eyes downcast as he faced the curtained window, running a hand through his hair. You frowned at his back.

“No. That–that isn't why I been gone so much,” he replied gruffly.

“Then why won’t you let me come with you?” you asked quickly, tossing the sheets off of yourself. “Why do you demand I stay here? Without you? You know I prefer staying in camps with you, Daryl. Being by your side. Know that I also feel caged and confined when I’m here just like you do. Why’re you pushing me away?”

“I ain’t pushin' ya away!” he snapped, turning around back towards you.

You hesitated on the edge of the bed, your feet just brushing the floor. Daryl was standing across the room from you, his shoulders heaving visibly in the darkness. You’d touched on something, that much was obvious from his outburst.

“So then why?” you asked him softly, slowly rising to your feet. “Because I–I miss you, Daryl,” you confessed, tentatively padding along the wood floor towards him, afraid to move too fast and scare him off. "It feels like I'm losing you."

“‘M right here,” he gruffly replied.

“Yeah,” you agreed slowly, continuing to gradually make your way towards him, the air cold against your still sweat-dampened skin. “For now. Until you hop on your bike in the morning and leave me for another few days.”

“I ain’t leavin' ya,” he shot back.

“You sure about that?” you asked, unable to hide the frustration in your voice. “Because you always tell me to stay here and then run off without me.”

“Safer here,” he muttered, his eyes dropping back down to the floor. “Told ya that already.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. That was always his explanation and it was getting old.

“Safer than what , Daryl?” you snapped.

“Then out there!” he growled, throwing a hand towards the window. “You’re safer here , behind the damn walls with the others lookin’ out for ya! I just wanna keep ya safe , alright? Why’s that gotta be a goddamn problem?”

“Don’t you miss me? At all?” you asked him, emotion thick in your voice.

His shoulders dropped a bit at your question, the anger visibly dissipating from him. He reached a hand up, rubbing it across his mouth as he nodded once.

“‘Course I miss ya,” he said, tone noticeably softer. “Miss ya every goddamn day. Miss your smile and your laughter. Even miss your smartass jokes,” he confessed, the corner of your lip gradually curling upwards at his admission. “Miss your inability to be quiet for more than a damned minute, even if I don’t miss the way ya always scare off whatever 'm trackin'.”

Biting your lip, you laughed lightly. The sound drew a faint smile onto Daryl’s mouth, his eyes rising up to linger along your face in the darkness.

“I don’t scare them off that often,” you said.

“Manage to scare off rabbits whenever I take ya with me,” he countered.

“Well,” you replied slowly, “rabbits are cute.”

“And I got a lotta mouths to feed,” he pointed out. “Don’t matter what’s cute if we can eat it.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead. As nice as it was playfully arguing with him again–something you had certainly missed–this wasn't what you needed to talk about at the moment. And judging by the way Daryl awkwardly shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly growing quiet, he was aware of that, too.

“You know keeping me here doesn’t necessarily make me safer than anywhere else, right?” you asked quietly. “Here, with you at a camp, any of the other settlements. Hell, you could lock me in a tower, Dixon, and still something could happen to me.”

“‘Cause ya act without thinkin’,” he grumbled.

You shook your head, hugging your arms tighter around yourself. “Not the point,” you told him. “The point is: anything can happen to me anywhere .”

Daryl grunted, his body tensing up at your words. You saw the slight crease form between his brows as his eyes narrowed back at you once again.

“That s’posed to make me feel better?” he asked, an edge to his tone. "'Cause it don't."

“No,” you answered. “No, but my point is that it doesn’t matter where I am, nowhere is guaranteed to be safe anymore. And I would rather be by your side where I feel safest, Daryl," you told him

Hesitantly you uncrossed your arms, lightly placing your hands on his chest, just over his vest. The leather felt cold beneath your palms, a chill running through you. Daryl’s own hands carefully landed on your hips when you shuddered, his touch instinctively causing you to take a step closer to him.

"What the hell is the point of keeping me safe if I’m not with you, anyway? I miss you,” you continued, attempting to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “You’re the only good thing left in this world to me. The only person I want to spend my days with, Daryl. Who knows how much longer any of us have anymore. And you keep taking that time together away from the both of us everytime you leave me behind."

"Not tryin' to do that," he whispered. "Wasn't tryin' to make ya feel unwanted, neither."

"Then take me with you," you practically begged. "Tomorrow when you leave again. Please. I can help with whatever Rick wants, but when I go to sleep at night I want to lay my head down next to you, Daryl. Every night. For however many nights we have left."

Daryl’s eyes narrowed back at you, quietly contemplating your request as he chewed his lip. Gradually your hands slid their way up his solid chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you.

"Don't you…want that, too?" you questioned him nervously.

His left hand released your hip, instead rising to gently grip your chin between his fingers. He carefully tilted your face further up towards his, his gaze locked on yours so intensely that you felt the prickle of goosebumps along your bare forearms. It took every ounce of self-control not to close the space between you both and kiss him.

"Want ya always," he muttered. "'S'why I wanted ya here. Safe."

He paused, his brows twitching together briefly as if he was struggling to find the words to say more. You stood there with your arms still snuggly wrapped around his neck, quiet and patient as you gave him the time he needed, desperately hoping he would say whatever it was that you could clearly see was on his mind.

“I just don’t wanna lose ya,” he eventually admitted, fingers releasing your chin as his hand slid back to gently cup your cheek. “Couldn’t stand it if somethin’ happened to ya. And after everythin’ that just happened–all that shit with Sanctuary and Negan–it just–just…”

He trailed off, his eyes closing as he winced like he was in pain. The corner of your mouth tugged downwards, your heart aching at the sight of his inner struggle. He continued before you had a chance to say anything though, his calloused thumb lightly stroking your cheekbone as his gaze fixed back on you.

“But ya got a point,” he said. “I been missin’ ya. A lot. ‘S’just not right without ya with me, but I was tryin’ to do right by ya. Keep ya safe ‘stead of bein’ selfish.”

“That’s not being selfish, Daryl, it’s called living,” you countered gently.

He grunted in assent as he nodded slowly. “Alright,” he murmured. “I’ll take ya with me tomorrow. Rick’s got somethin’ he needs me to do. Could probably do with another set of hands.”

Teeth clamping down on your bottom lip, you attempted to fight the smile growing on your lips as a thrill shot through you–at his agreement to bring you with him and because something else was now very much on your mind with his close proximity to you. One of your brows quirked up at Daryl and he huffed out an amused breath, shaking his head at you.

“What?” he asked, a small grin on his face.

Your mouth curved upwards mischievously. “I could think of something else you might need another set of hands for,” you answered coyly.

He snorted out a laugh instantly, his eyes creasing at the corners. You laughed lightly along with him, unable to resist whenever you heard that rare sound of joy coming from him.

“Goddamit, woman,” he said, still grinning back at you. “Always got one thing on your mind.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t, either,” you teased. “I mean I did say I missed you. And it has been a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere,” he muttered, pulling you towards him with the hand still cupping your cheek.

He quickly closed the remaining distance between the pair of you, connecting his mouth to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss full of so much feeling and tenderness. You could feel the way he’d missed you just from the way his mouth was moving against yours. Though it still never ceased to amaze you how soft and loving his kisses and touches were for a man with such a rough exterior.

With Daryl fully filling your senses–his muscled body pressed flush to the front of yours, the scent of leather, gasoline, and sweat filling your nose, the wet sounds of your mouths connecting over and over loud in your ears, and the taste of him on your tongue–it didn’t take long for you to lose yourself entirely in him, a heat beginning to grow between your thighs as his mouth finally began to give in to your eager and hungry one. As you continued to kiss, your hands wandering into his hair while his began to wander over your body, you could feel his growing arousal stirring against your thigh, the pressure of it only encouraging you.

Which was why you were surprised when he broke away from your mouth after a few minutes, the sound of both of you breathing heavily filling the otherwise silent bedroom. You sent him a silent, questioning look as your chest heaved, wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“Should talk ‘bout those nightmares,” he whispered.

“Later,” you promised, hands tangling into his hair. “Right now I just want you.”

“Told ya already,” he murmured, leaning in to lightly kiss you once more. “‘M right here.”

Tugging his mouth back down towards yours, you began to walk both of you backwards, leading him towards the bed as your hands began to slide the leather vest from off his shoulders. The only comfort you wanted right now was the kind he provided each time his mouth lovingly lingered along your skin, the way his hands affectionately touched you in ways you couldn’t explain, and the way he filled you and made you feel whole, always reminding you of what you’d gained in this world instead of what you’d lost.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #bellas comfort fic week #the walking dead

457 notes · View notes