#sweet baby shadows deserve all the love

[baylishh]

Bat Boys? Valkyries? The Suriel?

No. My favorite character in Acotar is Az’s sassy ass, nosy ass, cute ass shadows who are picky about who comes around Az and have very big opinions and are probably little tricksters.

I love them

#acotar #azriel #my sweet shadowsinger #sweet baby shadows deserve all the love #I’m the president of ​the babygirlification of Az’s Shadows #like could you imagine Az’s shadows not liking someone and hiding all of their left shoes #or discretely leaving trinkets for people they enjoy like crows #I would die for Az’s shadows

[talaok]

The sweetest remedy

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader

summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it

warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is

"what's wrong?"

He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off

His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.

You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you

"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter

"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"

And of course, he did

Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work

Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,

and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.

You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you

He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.

"tell me what's wrong," you asked again

You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours, 

because that's what he brought to you every single day

He sighed, before nodding slowly

"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"

you didn't pay attention to the last part

"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him

"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs

"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"

The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips

"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.

You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own

"you know I'm right"

He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you

"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"

Ah that's right

Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie

"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek

He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you

"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"

You nodded, watching him closely

"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.

You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away

But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris

"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"

And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,

Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.

A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth

Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring

"y'know what I need babydoll"

God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again

"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter

But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision

"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.

just like he was now.

Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,

his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...

His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.

You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.

His tongue felt good even though the soaked material

"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,

He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,

he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light

That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs

he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole

"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"

He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth

your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.

"Joel- baby- p-please"

but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything

And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.

Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,

the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.

"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"

And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.

He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.

You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating

"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"

You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.

But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead

"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance

"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now

He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered

"You're still sore from this mornin'"

What does that have to do with anything?

"but-"

He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"

And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic

"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood

You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,

but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.

"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did

Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.

And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.

And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done

"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.

God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect

"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate

You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.

the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.

"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth

"yeah doll"

You kissed him again quickly before speaking

"come inside my mouth baby"

Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,

a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there

"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"

"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear

He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"

"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding

"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"

"fuck"

you always knew what to say to get him going

"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.

It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.

"Feeling better?" you finally asked

"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"

#i got sleepy towards the end im sorry if its rushed #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

[spctrsgf]

morning banter

summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)

a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy

Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this. 

C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.

“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”

Go to sleep, puta.

“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 

But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 

Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.

“Sure, whatever.”

Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.

Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.

Or, he tried to.

“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?” 

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”

He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?”

“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”

“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 

“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.

“Nope.”

His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”

“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 

You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”

“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”

“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.

He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.

“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”

“You can't leave me hanging like that!”

You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”

For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.

“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”

You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”

He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”

“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”

Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.

“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.

The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

#moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #steven grant imagine #jake lockley imagine #moon knight tv #marvel #marc spector fluff #marc spector x you #oscar issac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar issac x reader

[jenosbigtoe]

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: husband!na jaemin x pregnant housewife!reader

warnings: marriage au, pregnancy, he calls you mama and you call him daddy, cunnilingus, creampie, unprotected sex

for you and the dry jaemin smut tag @nominsgirl 🙈🙈 i think i went a little crazy this was not supposed to be nearly this long

“hi mama.” you’re making dinner when jaemin comes up behind you, whispering lowly in your ear, to give you a tight backhug and rub the underside of your tummy. he’s shirtless and you can feel his bare chest pressed against your back.

you squeal with delight and turn to jump in his arms, he scoops you and your 6 month pregnant body up with ease. “jaeminn!! i didn’t hear you come home. me and baby missed you so much.” you cling to his arms and wrap your legs round his waist as you lean in to kiss him deeply.

you just can’t get enough of him anymore. him finally coming home from work is your favorite part of the day. ever since you’ve gotten pregnant, you want to be around him at all times, following him around like his own shadow when he’s home and texting him all day when he’s not. you try to limit yourself to three texts a day begging him to come home and cuddle with you and baby and sometimes you even cry because you just miss him so much (it’s been 3 hours). you don’t even think you were this clingy with him when you were newlyweds.

and jaemin absolutely loves it. he was always the more clingy one in your relationship, always whining for your attention whenever he felt you weren’t giving him enough. and now he loves seeing the roles reversed, seeing you cling to him like a little koala. he loves seeing you waddle around the house with your growing belly, following him around like a puppy so he will give you cuddles and kissies. he loves seeing your belly swell with his baby, how your body is changing all because of him. when he cuddles you, you always curl yourself into his chest as he rubs your soft belly affectionately.

you’re still kissing him when he tries to put you back down, to which you protest by hitting his chest and stomping your feet. “jaeeemmmiiinnn… why are you putting me back down? i missed you so much today,” you jut your lower lip out in a deep pout and furrow your eyebrows. you try to pull him back down to kiss you but he leans away. he thinks you look too cute when you pout and stomp your foot like that.

“mama, trust me when i say i missed you and baby too. but aren’t you making dinner right now? the pot looks like it’s about to boil over.”

you quickly turn back around and look at the pot bubbling on the stove. “oh shit!” you ran back to turn the heat down and stir the pot before the food burnt but it was too late. the sauce at the bottom was turning black.

you begin to cry, tears immediately rolling down your face. “i burned our food,” you blubbered. “i was trying to be a good wife and make you a hot meal but i burned our meal because i was stupid.”

jaemin panics and runs over to you to scoop you back in his arms. “shhh no baby don’t say that. it was just a mistake, you didn’t mean to.” he tries to wipe your tears affectionately but nothing he does stops your sobbing.

“n-no. you have been w-working all day and you deserve a hot meal when you get home. i’m a such bad wife and i’m g-gonna be a bad mom,” you sob into his chest.

he starts to rub circles on your back and kisses your head lovingly. “don’t cry, mama. it was just a mistake. you didn’t mean to. i don’t want to ever hear that you’re a bad wife because i love you too much for you to be saying that. and never say you’re gonna be a bad mother because any child,” he pulls away to look you in the eyes as he says this, “would be lucky to have you as their mommy. and i know you will be such a good mommy to all of our future babies, including this one.” he takes both his and your hands and places them on top of your belly.

you sniffle. “really?”

he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, tasting the salt from your tears. “yes, mama. let’s just order your favorite takeout and call it in for the night, kay?”

you perk up and wrap your arms around his neck to give him a big hug. “yayyy!! thank you, jaem. best husband and father to be ever.”

he gives you another kiss and rubs your belly affectionately. “mmm how about i show mama how much i really love her, hm?” his hands wander from your belly and start groping at your soft thighs. you moan into the kiss and run your fingers through his hair to pull him closer to you, feeling his bulge harden in his sweatpants on your ass.

you pull away. “bedroom. now.” you say breathlessly.

he smirks. “whatever you say, mama.”

he carries you to the bedroom and lays you gently on the mattress before crawling on top of you to cup your face and kiss you more. he starts removing your clothes, piece by piece, only breaking from your lips for a brief second before going back for more. you’re finally laid bare beneath him in all your glory, pregnant tummy proudly brushing against his bare skin when he pulls away to admire your body.

his pupils are blown with lust and desire as he rakes over your form. he can’t get enough of your pregnant body. “fuck, mama. you look so sexy just like this, all bare and ready for me. and i love seeing your precious tummy all swollen with our baby.” he uses one hand to stroke his hardening cock.

you rub your legs together, feeling your core wetten at his words. “please touch me, daddy.”

he leans down to give your tummy a little peck. “i love you and your mama so much, baby.”

he crawls down to face your dripping cunt and uses his tongue to lick a stripe from bottom to top, collecting your juices and mixing them with his spit. your hips jerk from the sudden contact and you reach down to grab his hair as he gives your sensitive cunt little kitten licks. ever since you became pregnant, you’ve just become so sensitive and the slightest touch makes you a moaning, whining mess. and he thinks you taste so good, almost sweeter once you became pregnant.

he uses his tongue to tease your hole, letting your juices drip on his tongue, before licking up to your clit and using his tongue to flick your swollen nub. pleasure builds up in your core as you moan and whine out from above. he spits on your dripping cunt, letting his saliva drip down from your clit, before using his mouth to suck and lick on your clit like he’s making out with your pussy.

“a-ah! daddy don’t stop,” you gasp, using your grip on his hair to push him deeper into your cunt.

he’s still sucking and licking at your clit when your hole spasms uncontrollably and sends waves of pleasure from your core. you moan and buck your hips against his face through your orgasm as he continues his ministrations on your sopping wet cunt.

when he looks back up at you after your orgasm, his lips and chin are glistening with his spit and your arousal. he gives you a cheeky grin, “how was that, mama? do you know how much daddy loves you now?”

he crawls back on top of you and strokes his hard cock as he gives you another sweet kiss, letting you taste yourself. he rubs his cock between your wet folds, gathering your juice. you could feel just how hard he was for you. he slaps his shaft on your sensitive clit before going back to rubbing his cock between your folds, causing you to gasp and moan against his kiss.

“d-daddy,” you whine against his lips. “stop teasing me.”

he grins. “teasing you like this?” he puts the fat tip of his cock into your dripping hole before pulling back out and rubbing the shaft between your folds.

you slap his chest. “do you really want to get this horny and hormonal pregnant woman pissed, na jaemin?”

he hums. “okay, mama.”

he pulls his cock away only to suddenly enter your dripping hole with ease. you feel his cock completely bottom out in your wet cunt, his balls pressed against your ass. he always filled you up so good, making you feel full like you’ve never been before.

“s-shit,” you moaned breathlessly, rocking your hips lightly against his.

your pussy already so wet, he slides in and out effortlessly, using your juices to thrust his cock into your cunt fast and deep. you can feel his cock fill you completely with every thrust, like his tip is trying to kiss your insides.

“f-fuck, mama,” he groans from above you. in one hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and he rests his hand on your belly with the other. “feel s-so good. so good for daddy.”

your pussy drips and creams around his cock, forming a white ring around the base. lewd sounds of wet skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with your whiny moans and his breathless pants. you clench around his fat cock with every relentless thrust as you let the pleasure take over your body and blank your mind.

“a-ah keep going! m so close, daddy,” you whine into his chest.

he takes this as a sign to go even faster, his cock slamming hard into your poor little cunt and sending shock waves through your body. he takes his hand from your belly and uses it to rub your clit furiously while continuing his merciless thrusts into your cunt. when he bottoms out, your hole starts spasming around his hot cock and your orgasm rips through your body, leaving you shaking beneath him.

he continues to pound his cock through your orgasm, your hole just clenching impossibly tight around him. “yes, so good for daddy,” he coos in your ear.

his balls start to tighten and his thrusts become erratic. through your post-orgasmic bliss, you can feel his cock twitch hard inside of you before his hips stutter and he sheaths himself completely inside. he’s bottomed out, filling you so full as he shoots his fat load inside your used cunt. he groans and rests his head on your shoulder, panting breathlessly and filling you up so much it starts to leak from around his cock and drip from your pussy. he leans down to give you one last sweet kiss on the lips.

“pretty mama, so good for daddy.”

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct x reader #jaemin #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin smut #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut

[cosmicanakin]

giving your nerdy bf hickeys.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

pairing. nerd!anakin x female reader.

contains. smut w no plot, hickeys.

authors note. love my nerdy baby <3

you’re hanging out with your boyfriend anakin at his small apartment, curled up together on the couch. as usual, your boyfriend has been reading some textbook on hyperspace mechanics, totally absorbed in the dense theories and equations.

smiling to yourself, you snake your arms around anakin’s waist from behind and place a gentle kiss to his neck. “put the nerdy stuff away for a bit, handsome. let me have your attention,” you murmur, nibbling his earlobe playfully.

anakin shivers, closing the book reluctantly before turning in your embrace. “mm, you definitely have my attention now, angel,” he rumbles, voice already deepening with want. you grin, pressing soft pecks along his strong jawline as anakin practically melts beneath your touch.

brushing his messy hair back, you suck lightly at the tender place below his ear. anakin sighs airily, hands coming up to your hair as you leave a faint pink mark. a thought suddenly occurs and you pull back with a mischievous glint, biting your lip.

“ani...what would you think about me giving you a hickey?” you ask softly. his eyes widen slightly behind his glasses before his cheeks flush a dark rose. “i, uh...i don’t know,” anakin stammers shyly, ever-modest and innocent. “i’ve never had one before.”

you smile reassuringly, caressing his face. “i won't do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. i just think you’d look so sexy all marked up...” anakin’s blush deepens impossibly but he nods, gazing at you full of trust. “okay, you can try.”

leaning back in, you kiss along the strong column of his neck with tender reverence before sucking sharply below his adam’s apple. anakin gasps harshly, fingers gripping your sides tightly as you work the skin with your lips and tongue. he tastes faintly salty, musky, all man.

it doesn't take long for the beautiful purple bruise to bloom under your ministrations, standing out stark against anakin’s pale skin. sitting back to admire your handiwork, you can’t help a satisfied grin. “looks incredible, ani. so hot,” you purr, cradling his face for a deep kiss.

anakin seems almost in a trance, tenderly fingering the mark almost disbelievingly. “i...didn’t think it would feel so good,” he admits shyly, delight dancing in his gorgeous eyes. you hug him close, stroking his hair soothingly.

“i'm so happy you liked it. you deserve to feel cherished,” you murmur in his ear, brushing kisses along his strong jaw. anakin smiles sweetly, cupping your cheek as an idea comes to him too. “can i...try giving you one?” he asks hopefully.

you blink in surprise before nodding eagerly, already melting under his rare confidence. shifting to straddle his muscular thighs, you offer your neck invitingly. “please do, handsome,” you whisper, carding fingers through his thick hair encouragingly.

anakin takes a shaky breath, hands settling warm and sure at your waist, before tentatively pressing his lips below your jaw. you sigh contentedly as his mouth works, less skilled than your own but filled with loving care. soon a throbbing point of heat forms under your skin, making you squirm deliciously in anakin's lap.

he pulls back to gauge his work, tentative thumb brushing over the fluttering pulsepoint. “is it okay? did i do it right?” anakin questions timidly, always the gentle soul. you smile tenderly, cupping his face between your hands.

“it’s perfect. you make me feel so good,” you reassure, kissing him deeply. anakin grins with boyish delight, pulling you closer still. as the afternoon wanes and shadows lengthen, you trade sweet nothings and marks of affection between giggling bouts until dark.

later, when you bid him farewell for the night, anakin can’t help a soft gasp seeing the artwork you did on his neck in the mirror. you smirk playfully, pleased by his reaction, before tugging him down for a last passionate kiss. “goodnight, honey. see you tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips.

anakin smiles dopily, eyes glazed and hooded. “goodnight, angel. sleep well,” he rumbles, squeezing you tight once more before reluctantly letting go. as you walk home glowing, already missing his arms, you can’t stop touching the faintly throbbing hickey upon your skin - a beautiful brand of anakin's care, his very first. you know this won't be the last intimate secret you two share.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚ #nerd!anakin #anakin #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker angst #star wars #star wars x female reader #star wars x reader #star wars smut #sw anakin

[jobean12-blog]

Okay, but Javi Peña in tight swimshorts/briefs and in sunglasses only. On the beach with you.

Island Time

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 960

Summary: You convince Javi to take a much deserved and needed vacation and he couldn't be happier he agreed.

Author's Note: EVA! YESSSSSS! As soon as I read this I was thinking how absoltely yummy he is and how this would be a dream. Thank you so much for sending this delicious thought my way! Hugs and love 💕💕 Enjoy and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of sweet softness, flirting, fun and tension, some spice too :)

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Have you seen my cover up?”

You ask the question from the bathroom, peeking your head around the doorframe to see Javi looking through some clothes on the floor.

“Here,” he says and holds out his pink short sleeve button down.

“That’s your shirt Javi.”

“I know angel but it’ll work just the same,” he smirks.

“You just love seeing me in your clothes.”

“Fucking right I do,” he answers.

You walk out of the bathroom and he sucks in a sharp breath, quickly tugging his shirt away when you reach for it.

“Hey! I thought I was wearing that.”

His lips part as if to speak but instead he just stares at you and lets his gaze sweep down your body, lingering on every curve.

“I forgot I already wore it,” he murmurs. “It’s probably dirty.”

“Good,” you start. “Then it smells like you. Gimme.”

“Baby why would you cover up?”

He looks you over again.

“I need something in case we go off the beach or I want less sun.”

“But…fuck.“

His fisted hand traces the line of his upper lip as he steps closer, taking you in his arms and sliding a hand down your back and over your ass.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“Javi,” you murmur against his lips. “Why would I want to do that?”

His grip tightens and he pulls you flush against his hips.

“How am I supposed to go down to the beach now?”

The pronounced thickness that pushes against your stomach makes you roll your hips.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.”

Your lips ghost over his then trace the sharp edge of his jaw, now lined with an uncharacteristic dark shadow before pressing to the spot just below his ear.

With a soft kiss you whisper, “let’s go. Time for sun and sand.”

Using his dazed state to your advantage you walk out of his hold and take his pink button down with you, throwing it over your shoulders as you saunter for the door.

He follows behind with a string of curses and smacks your ass, hard.

Your toes dig into the warm sand and you sip your drink as you watch Javi break the surface of the pristine water. His skin glistens under the sun, the droplets of salt water running down his body and making his bathing suit cling to his thighs…and everywhere else.

He sees you blatantly staring and grins, crooking a finger your way.

When you reach the water he takes your hand and pulls you deeper until you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Now who’s a tease?” you ask as you brush the dark strands of wet hair from his forehead.

“Your existence is a tease,” he murmurs, trailing wet kisses across your shoulder. “And if we were alone on his beach I’d be buried so deep inside you right now.”

Your nails scratch down the back of his neck and you press yourself closer.

“Think of it as foreplay,” you whisper breathlessly into his skin.

He hums against your lips before kissing you slow and deep, the action eliciting a feeling of floating that’s only amplified by the weightlessness of the water and the gentle sway of the waves.

“How the hell am I supposed to get out of the water now?” he groans and adjusts himself in his shorts.

You giggle and detach yourself, floating away until your feet touch the sandy bottom. You slip under the water and break the surface like a mermaid, turning and saying over your shoulder, “lucky for me I’m already soaked so no one can tell.”

With a growl of your name he sends a playful splash your way before he disappears under an oncoming wave.

Once you’re seated comfortably on your chair you wait for him to come out of the water, savoring every inch of his sun kissed wet skin and the way his damp shorts cling to everything.

The sun’s warmth starts to fade as it dips below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in colors of pink and orange. Javi has you sprawled out next to him on the towel, every inch of your bodies touching as he runs his fingertips along the curve of your spine.

Your own fingers graze his chest before sweeping lower and brushing through the trail of hair below his belly button.

He grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth, tracing your knuckles with his lips.

“Meet me in the cabana in five minutes,” he says.

As he gets up he gathers your things and starts for your villa. You watch and stare, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

Less than five minutes later he shoulders past the hanging canvas that keeps the inside of the cabana private, his pink shirt hanging in front of his legs.

When he drops it to the sand your eyes track the movement but stop on the bulge between his legs. You breathe out his name and reach for him from your plush lounge chair. He covers your body with his and settles between your legs.

His movements are slow and torturous as he caresses every inch of you with his lips and hands.

“Javi,” you whimper, “I need you…now.”

He slides a hand lower, between your thighs, and murmurs, “I need a taste first. I’ve been hard all fucking day for you, waiting. Just a taste…”

He moves to a kneeling position and peels the bathing suit from your body, cursing under his breath when he takes you in.

“You’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he whispers as he lowers himself down. “Now come on angel, I want those knees pointed at opposite ends of the beach.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena smut

[redbleedingrose]

Warm

Azriel x Reader

A/N: Just a cute little Drabble for Azriel bc I miss him and love him and he is so sweet to his mate. He deserves the world, and all the good things (even tho he is a major slut).

The winter nights of Valeries are some of your favorite nights of the year. The lights that are hung along the shops and townhomes which sparkle like stars in the night sky, the never ending laughter of children and quiet chatter of the people roaming to find gifts for their loved ones, it makes for something found only in stories. But here it is, your reality. The icy wind brushes alongside of your home, once built by your mates bare hands with the help of his brothers, an homage to his dedication to you. He is out with said brothers, has been all day, busy with their so-called annual snow ball fight.

You can’t help but wonder as you smile to yourself, humming while stirring the cream and melting chocolate on the fire stove, if your mate was named champion of this years battle. He has been for the past six years, prior to that, Rhysand had won, the year him and Feyre found each other. Smug bastard probably was trying to show off to his newly named bride.

Your eyes crinkle, thinking of how Azriel won the snow ball fight each year for almost a decade after you were officially mated. Poor Cassian really struggled with his pride for a while, the Illyrian baby whined every chance he could get, earning a pitiful kiss on the cheek for his grand efforts from you with Azriel glaring hotly at his brother from across the table. A tiny giggle escapes you while you reminisce, the shadowsinger of course earned his own reward, something far more… heated in the cold winter nights that left you rather… well- unable to walk in the next morning.

The whispers of Az’s shadows stroke across your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, gliding up your arms and through your hair, whisping and playing with the loose strands falling out of your braid. A firm arm wraps around your waist, while the other arm settles onto the counter in front of you, scarred hand flexing as it grips the edge. Kisses, soft and sweet, pressing into the side of your head, behind your ear, peppered onto your neck and at the crevice of your shoulder, into your hair and on the side of your forehead, blissfully sliding right onto your cheek and down with a gentle bite to your jaw that leaves you gasping for air. The arm around you tightens, good thing too- the rough, raspy voice from your mate behind you has you weak in the knees, “Guess who won, my beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant, sexy wife?”

The shadowsinger’s front is completely flush against your back, you can almost hear the smirk forming on his pretty lips, regardless, you can feel the curve of his cheek against yours as his warm hand stroke up and down your side. From the corner of your eye, you can see his grip on the counter tightening as he takes in your scent, no doubt muddled with the hot chocolate you were making for him. Licking your lips, you quickly turn your head to the side and plant a wet kiss to his cheek before turning back to the pot before you, not wanting to burn the drink you spent so long trying to make for your presumptive winner.

Impatient is not a word you would use to describe your mate in most scenarios. However… it seems the spymaster cannot wait for his prize, forcing you to turn around with heady, half lidded, beautiful hazel eyes focusing on your lips. “The hot chocolate Az-“ a kiss lands onto your lips, fast and hard, warm hands cupping your cheeks and pulling you in closer, “Forget the damn chocolate.”

Your laughter interrupts his kisses, but the stubborn male continues with teeth gnashing and tongues barely intertwining, “I spent a while making it for you shadow boy.” He huffs, pulling you closer, tilting your head back so the expanse of your neck is exposed.

“Is-“ Kiss.

“That-“ Kiss.

“So?” Kiss.

His own smile lilts as you hum, running your hands up his forearms, holding his wrists in place, squeezing them with each kiss he lands on you. “C’mon Azzie,” brushing the tip of your nose against his when he finally faces you with that gentle look that is specifically reserved for you. You grin up at your mate, humor racing through you until glints of mischief flicker in your eyes, “S’okay baby, Cassian had to win at some point. It’s okay to lose, you are always the winner in my heart.”

The “heart” is barely audible through your cackles and grunts, Azriel throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you towards your bedroom. A swift smack to your ass has you squealing, “Azriel!” The Shadowboy ignores you of course, biting at the rounded flesh before tossing you onto the bed. Your heart skips once, twice, three times as he pushes the fabric of your dress up to your waist leaving you utterly exposed and heated all over despite the night chill, his playful growl sparking your bond with need and love, “I think it’s time to receive my prize for winning, don’t you think my mate?”

Anyway… that is not what I expected for this fic to be, but it is where it ended up so I hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

#azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #rose rambles #rose writes

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson 18+

idk i’m feeling some sort of way

“Wider,” a voice came from the bottom of the bed, in the shadows where the bedside lamp didn’t quite reach. “C’mon, I wanna see her, keep her legs open, Eds.”

You squirmed as two big palms pressed into the insides of your thighs, doing as they were told. Eddie groaned, moved closer into the cradle of your legs and you tried not to cry out at the feeling of his mouth over the seam of your cunt. He kissed at you, pretty little pecks of affection over your folds, eyes rolling at how wet you were, how you tasted.

There was another boy watching it all, eyes dark and hooded as he got exactly what he wanted with stern, quiet orders and soft praise. Steve lounged against the headboard, his shirt off, jeans unbuttoned and his hand down the front of the tight denim, a flat palm dragging across his hard cock, just enough pressure to stave off the ache.

“That’s it,” he cooed and you saw Eddie’s cheeks turn pink. “Lick her nice ‘n slow, you know how she likes it. Yeah, like that, keep going, I wanna see her soaked.”

Eddie obeyed, keeping your legs wide, his head tilted to the side, his cheek pressed to your thigh so Steve could watch the way his tongue flicked out to press into your entrance, dragging your slick up to your clit. He did it over and over, slow and soft until you were squealing, cheeks hot and eyes glassy, your hands fisted in the pillow above you because you weren’t supposed to touch either boy.

Not yet.

“Ooh, baby,” Steve was grinning but his own face gave him away, flushed like Eddie’s, eyes hazy as he stared at your pussy, drinking in every piece of exposed skin. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, like he could taste you too. “Is that good? You gotta tell me or Eddie’s gonna stop.”

You nodded through a whine, lips falling open in a silent groan, back arching and Eddie moved his attention to your clit, soft lips pursing around it as he kissed gently, sucking at it between sweet pecks. Steve swore, a sound you probably weren’t supposed to hear and then the mattress dipped as he moved closer. He joined Eddie between your spread legs, kissed at your knee in a soft moment of affection before he smirked again and let his gaze roam over your naked frame.

“There you go,” Steve cooed and you weren’t sure who was talking to, but Eddie sighed the same as you did. “Keep her nice and open, man, I wanna see how wet she is, yeah— yeah, that’s it, let her feel your tongue.”

Steve coaxed Eddie through it, stroking a line along your stomach as the other boy pushed his tongue into you, his nose pressed to your clit, his chin wet with you, his eyes closed in a dreamy way. Your poor fingers were still twisted in the cotton pillowcase, yanking and pulling and you wanted to do that to the boys, you wanted to tug at their hair and demand more — but you knew better.

“Lick right there, that’s it, give her a kiss, huh? She’s so pretty,” Steve kept talkin’ soft and low and his voice sounded like silk, like dark chocolate, brown sugar, like a fucking dream. “You’ve got the prettiest little pussy, haven’t you, honey? She deserves all the love.”

Eddie did as he was told once more, pulling back just slightly before he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the centre of your cunt, tongue laving over your sensitive skin, the boy groaning something filthy when you bucked your hips into him. He looked at Steve when he was done, pupils blown wide and his own body moving against the mattress, boxers tented and wet in the front.

Steve grinned, leaning in to kiss the boys lips, pulling back just a little but only to flick his own tongue across Eddie’s mouth, licking into the seam and you whined, knowing that Steve was tasting you too.

“So sweet,” Steve told you both and he used one finger to sneak between Eddie’s hands, where the longer haired boy still held you open with two thumbs over your folds. Steve dragged his pointer over your clit, rubbed soft, little circles until you were squirming again and thought you’d finally be allowed to come.

But then—

“C’mere, honey,” Steve patted your hip, moving back. He coaxed Eddie with him, sliding his fingertips into the black band of his underwear, slipping the material down his hips until his hard cock was on show. He looked back at you, nodding towards Eddie who had his eyes closed, waiting. “Don’t you think Eddie deserves some attention?”

You couldn’t argue, Eddie had been between your thighs for almost forty minutes, diligently listening to Steve’s dirty instructions. So on wobbly knees, you crawled down the bed, too warm and aching between your thighs, wondering how long it would be until you were allowed to come.

But Steve just smoothed your hair back and pecked your cheek, a loving thing that was full of fondness. It made you squirm even more, face flushed and eyes wide, and god, it made the boy beam.

“Pretty girl,” Steve praised. “C’mon, open your mouth for us, there you go.” Steve tapped at your bottom lip with the same finger that he’d dragged through your slick, pulling it until it popped and fell back into place. “Good girl, now, do as you’re told and show us your tongue.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #steddie x reader smut #steddie x reader #Steve baby blurb #Eddie baby blurb

[themotherofhorses]

Does handmain!reader braid Aemond's hair? Does Aemond know how to braid his children's hair? PLS THE FLUFFFF

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

notes: DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Three hours after sundown, his mother arrives at his doorway, carrying a reading lamp and two books of faith. “Would you like to sit and pray with me tonight, Aemond?” Alicent asks, but her voice soon trails off when she notices the hairbrush clutched in his hand and the twins at his knees. Both boys toy around with their tiny wooden stick swords, offering their grandmother two toothy little smiles.

“Oh, I see that you’re quite busy tonight…” she then adds, in a tone faint with teasing.

Aemond nods where he sits, gently combing out any tangles and snags in his son’s silver-pale hair. “Their mother easily puts me to shame, as she does with most things…” he mumbles, glancing sidelong at his other son, whose own shines like moonglow in a loose braid, “-but I do believe I’ve done a rather fine job with my boys.”   

Alicent hums. “Where might she be tonight? Did you dismiss her?”

Aemond gestures to his bed, where his handmaid lays fast asleep, cuddling around a pillow. As she slept, she had kicked off the blanket and sheets, and the pretty curve of her swollen belly limned in the soft glow from the hearth.

“The babe’s been stealing away most of her energy these past few days,” he tells Alicent, shaking his head. His fingers part the hair into three splits before looping the first over the second and tugging the third into the middle. “The maesters say the name day is nearing, perhaps in another fortnight.”

He refused any looks at his girl; otherwise, he’d drink in the lovely sight a bit too much like a drunken fool, and he’d prefer his mother not bearing witness to such.

Yet Alicent studies the sleeping handmaid, a shadow of a smile flickering across her lips. This time around, she had grown great with a girl, according to the maesters and midwives alike, as well as Aemond himself. He had pined so much for a daughter of his own, frequenting the sept alongside her, to sink onto his knees and pray to the Mother for a baby girl, one blessed with her mother’s features.

She hopes her son receives his daughter. He deserves it that much.

“Would you like for me to tuck in the boys for the night?”

Aemond smiles. “Ah, if it would be no bother to you, mother. I’d appreciate it…I don’t wish to leave her, not when she’s like this…” but Alicent waves him away, kneeling before the boys. “I’ll have them choose a bedtime story, and they can tell me all about their day.” So he kisses his sons on the nose and forehead before whispering a fond goodnight, sending them away with their grandmother.

And as they leave, hand in hand with Alicent, their little braids bounce with every step. The sight gives him nothing but joy and pride.

The fire in the hearth was quickly burning down to embers, and he hadn’t intended to disturb his resting girl, but he couldn’t stop himself from climbing over her. Sweeter than lemon cakes and more beautiful than all the seasons. He rubs at her bump, where hopefully his daughter sleeps too, and kisses her bare shoulder- then her cheeks and lips- and kisses her again when she murmurs in her sleep.

“You’re all I’ll ever need and more,” he breathes, nestling his head against her breast. I love you. I love you. I love you.

At that, her eyes open, and she smiles, stroking his hair. “Tomorrow, I shall braid it,” she whispers.

But Aemond snatches her hand and lifts it to his lips. “No. I’ll braid your hair, my sweet girl,” he promises, kissing each of her fingers, nipping at the skin, “I need the practice anyways.”

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond drabble #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[draemgal]

midnights | azriel

in which azriel gets a little too drunk.

warnings: so sweet it makes your teeth hurt

IT was starfall. the inner circle was ecstatic and the air was filled with the tang of magic and alcohol. your mate, who rarely left your side in crowds, got dragged off by one of his brothers. you didn’t mind, you had mor by your side anyway.

“you really aren’t going to drink?” mor asked, her brows knitted and her eyes pleading.

normally, you and mor would get drunk and azriel and rhys would have to take care of you both. tonight, you wanted azriel to let loose. the pent up stress of his title as shadow singer deserved a release on his favorite holiday.

you shook your head and smiled lovingly at your mate who was now laughing with cassian. you could feel his happiness through the bond, it radiating towards you and filling you with light. you wished there was a way to snap a picture in your mind, to capture the tipsy bliss written on his face. it was a rare occasion to see your mate like this. whenever the two of you went out, he would never drink.

“how can i protect you if i’m drunk?” he’d say and push whatever alcohol was in the glass towards you with a smirk. part of him loved taking care of you and having you depend on him in your drunken state. but tonight you insisted. you told him you were safe with the inner circle as rhy’s, and that it was your turn to cash in a favor.

of course it took some light arguing, but he finally agreed.

the alcohol and crisp night air worked their magic on your mate, who was currently flushed in the face as he stumbled through the groups of bodies. you smiled softly as you looked at him, the fondness taking over your mind and drowning out all mindless chatter.

as time went on, your mate got drunker and drunker. the last time you met up with him he gave you a sloppy kiss and slurred an endless string of “i love you’s.”—but that was a while ago. the crowd was thinning and rhys was trying to pick up various trash that partygoers had left behind.

you spotted your mate half asleep against a tree. he was sitting on the dewy grass, his head leaning against the bark and his eyes closing shut slowly. you shook your head and made your way over, mentally cursing at yourself for wearing heels that night as you made the long trek across the lawn.

“my love, what have you gotten yourself into?” you hummed, crouching down to where he sat when you finally reached him.

he glanced at you through glassy eyes and huffed, turning his head away and slumping farther away. you strung your eyebrows together and gently went to reach out to him, but he gently swatted your hand away.

“i have a mate. not interested.” ha slurred, turning his nose upwards.

a sigh of relief left your lips before a laugh did. the sheer amount of alcohol coursing the man’s blood stream clouded his vision.

“azriel…” you said between laughs as you gently cupped his face and studied his features under the dense moonlight. “i am your mate.”

the confusion on his face slowly melted as you could practically see the gears in his brain moving as he pieced it together. soon, you were engulfed in a bone-crushing hug.

“my mate… i missed you, where were you?” he slurred, gently patting your head and closing his eyes, inhaling the scent of you.

“i’m here now, baby. i’m here.” you wrapped your arms around him before pressing the back of your hand to his cheeks. “are you cold, my love?”

he hummed and smiled goofily, nodding his head. you swiftly removed your cardigan and draped it over his shoulders, snuggling yourself into him.

cassian approached and looked at you two with a grin. “oh how the turn tables have turned.” he plopped down on the other size of azriel and nuzzled himself in.

“did you know she’s my mate?” azriel slurred, turning his head towards cassian with wide eyes. cassian shoved him playfully and rolled his eyes. “you remind us everyday, brother.”

cassian stood and grabbed azriel’s hands, lifting him up to his feet and slinging his drunken arm over his shoulder. “now come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

“wait!” azriel attempted to spin around but failed, falling as cassian caught him. “i-is y/n coming?”

you smirked and grabbed his other arm, resting it on your shoulder and kissing his hand, interlocking it with yours. “always, az.”

#azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel fluff

[thedancingcostumeyoungadult]

Softdom!Spencer x fem!Reader

You've been feeling down on yourself, and Spencer just can't let it go any longer

This is the blurb from this post, I still might write the Aaron version!

Warnings: not full smut but for sure 18+ only, dom/sub dynamics, soft dom! Spencer, reader struggles with low self esteem/feeling unworthy, fem!reader, use of pet names (baby, honey, sweet girl/sweet thing, etc.)

Spencer knew something was bothering you, the way you'd started to go quiet during conversations, especially ones about work. He noticed the small, sad sigh and the quiet pause that you took before picking up your keys in the morning, when you usually left with a smile. It weighed in his heart heavier by the day, the thought of you struggling in silence almost brought him to tears one afternoon. But in order for him to help you, he needed you to tell him, and you seemed not to intend to do that. Every night you curled against him and let him hold you, for that he was thankful, but it was always in silence.

Finally, at six days he cracked.

"My love, come here, please?" The soft shadows of late evening hover at the edges of the living room, lit only by a small lamp by the sofa. Spencer tried to keep his voice gentle, not wanting you to think you're in trouble, but there's still an air of command to the words.

You appear around the corner, a small smile rising on your lips when you see him sitting relaxed on the couch.

"What's up, baby?" At his beckoning hands you cross the room, letting him draw you into his lap and settle you in his arms.

"What's going on, honey? You've seemed sad these past few days." Your eyes immediately drop from his and you seem to deflate in his arms, shrinking in on yourself. Spencer's heart twists as he thinks you're going to withdraw from him, but you don't. Your fingers twist into the knit of his sweater and he can see you chewing on the inside of your cheek. He waits, eyes soft as he watches you. His hand rubs gentle circles on your side, warm and soothing.

"I guess..." you speak at last, your words only loud enough for him to hear, "I guess I just feel like there are people, better, more deserving people, who could do so much more with what I've been given than I can, and I just feel like it's all this potential being wasted on me." Your words make his heart crumble, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of yours doing the same.

"No, baby, please don't cry." He begs you softly, the words sticking in his throat as he ever so tenderly swipes a stray tear from your cheek with his knuckle, cupping the side of your face with the same hand to guide your eyes to his. "Nothing is being wasted, you're deserving of good things, do you need to learn that again, baby?" Dominance laces his voice, though his tone remains soft. You don't answer, though he doesn't miss the tiny shift of your hips against his or the flutter of your pulse racing.

Spencer decided silence wasn't going to cut it tonight.

"Color?" You suck in a small breath, your hands settling on his shoulders.

"Green." It was the permission Spencer had been waiting for, one hand immediately tracking into your hair, closing in a firm but not painful grip on the locks. Using that new control, he makes you look at him, meeting your gaze dead on.

"My poor sweet girl, I let you forget how special you are, and that's not okay." His words send goosebumps over your skin as he draws you close, brushing his nose against yours as he whispers against your lips.

"I'm gonna make you remember after tonight, sweet thing."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #dom!spencer #spencer reid fic #jeanie writes #spencer reid x you

[moonchildstyles]

thyme

rosemary part five: harry's tired of hiding. y/n is there to listen

wordcount: 11.4k+

—————

The next time Harry saw morning light, he knew it was real with the way he could actually breathe under the rays. His eyes ached from the amount he had cried the night before, the memory of his nightmare having drained out along with every tear. 

Only a slice of light made it through the tightly drawn shades over the window, the sun bright enough Harry could only begin to assume how long they'd slept in. But, he wasn't going to argue with the hours; after his nightmare had cleared, that was the best sleep he'd had in years. With every blink of his heavy eyes, he gained more and more clarity. 

There was a part of him that wanted to be embarrassed about the way he had acted. The other night when she had tried to comfort him before was nothing compared to the way he had reacted last night. With her tucked carefully under his arm, her breathing even and eyes shuttered, he figured he could quell that awaiting shame for a little while longer. He didn't need to don his facade when she wasn't even awake to witness it. 

Moving cautiously, their shared pillow under his head shifted as he looked to her. That crack in the curtains allowed a splash of light to spill over his chest, leading the ray to fall over her eyes. The divine ribbon of light highlighted the curl of her lashes, the slope of her nose, and the delicate skin of her eyelids. The shadows he had seen under her eyes were now replaced with the reaching lengths of her lashes over her cheekbones. Baby hairs were wild around her face, messed from the way he had reached and grabbed for her the night before. Her hands were still tightly clutching his shirt in her palms, the fabric wrinkled and stretched in her direction.

Looking at her like this, Harry realized he hadn't ever stood a chance, had he? 

This whole thing—his facade, his over-nurtured walls, his control—all turned to dust the second she tapped his shoulder and asked about cookies. He should have known then that things were going to shift, even if he never thought it would turn out like this. 

All because of a gorgeous girl with a ribbon in her hair. 

Seeing her at peace for the first time in days, Harry knew that girl didn't deserve this—this dusty motel, this impromptu road trip, this much deception. 

He couldn't keep doing this to her. She had a life that he'd torn her from, all so he could drag her to different diners and gas stations, dank motels, and a cramped car for hours on end. She had friends who loved her, a job she woke up every morning happy to do, and a sweet little home that deserved to have someone like her live in it. 

It was Harry's mistakes that had caught up with them, and (Y/N) was the one being truly punished by them. She had to sleep in strange places, shower in less than five minutes if she wanted warm water, with questionable food waiting for her at every stop. Her nails even had chips in the paint, something he'd never seen before he tugged her into his mess. 

She didn't deserve this motel or his hands all over her when she didn't even know who she was sharing a bed with. 

He couldn't keep doing this to her. He was running out of money, and (Y/N) deserved to sleep in her own bed and be safe while she did. 

This all had to stop. Today. 

Yesterday's close call told him he wouldn't have to wait around very long for them to find him again. He didn't want (Y/N) to be in the middle of it when that happened. 

There was a plan to be made. Today was the day his past would have to catch his present if he wanted any kind of future. 

—————

"Are we leaving now?" 

(Y/N)'s tired eyes watched as Harry cleaned up the morning's breakfast (it was closer to lunch by the time she woke up, but it was still breakfast in his eyes). While she seemed to actually gain some real rest, her gaze was still tired and a little glassy as she followed him about the motel. 

She hadn't said a single word pertaining to what she had seen the night before, even though he could see those soft bits floating in her irises every time she matched his gaze. 

Looking over his shoulder, he saw her packing up her bag like she did every morning, ready and willing to follow him anywhere. Harry knew he was making the right decision. 

He couldn't be scared anymore. Not for her. 

"We're not leaving today." 

Her hands paused, buried in the bundle of clothes she had packed in her duffle, eyes wide as she looked at him. "What?" 

Taking in a deep breath, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. He dropped his chin into his hands, his elbows propped up on his knees. "We're not running anymore." 

(Y/N) stood to the full of her height, awkwardly fiddling with her fingers. A pinch creased the space between her brows. "I-I don't think I understand." 

That lance of guilt found its way to a soft spot inside him, stabbing through every layer. He had kept her so far in the dark, and she still trusted him as if he deserved it. 

She didn't look away when he matched her eye contact, his own gaze unwavering as he spoke, "I don't want to run anymore, (Y/N)." 

"Okay," she drawled, gaze darting down as she tried to process what he was saying, "Um, are we going home then?" 

Harry's throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly around his tongue. He had to tell her. He almost wanted to tell her, even. This was the first time the story had ever banged against his chest, fighting to be let out. 

She deserved to know who she slept beside last night. 

"Can I tell you something?" 

(Y/N) stepped towards him on cautious feet, as if she were approaching a wounded animal. She took the spot on the bed beside him, looking at him through furrowed brows and worried eyes. 

"You're scaring me," was her whispered response, hands a nervous knot in her lap. 

A tick appeared in his jaw then. That was what burned him the most; he dreaded the fact that he was more than likely going to hear that from her again soon. 

Nonetheless, he wet his lips before taking in a deep breath, the story unraveling from his tongue. 

"When I was twenty, m'sister started her master's program at a new university, so we moved to the city—me, my mum, and m'sister. My mum wanted to stay close to her, and I didn't really care. I was willing to go wherever they were. But, a few months into her classes, m'sister got this boyfriend." He tried his best not to spit out the title through gritted teeth. Keeping himself in check, Harry settled enough to sit with his eyes on his fisted hands with knitted brows.

"I...He wasn't a good guy, I knew that jus' from the couple of friends I'd made even before he and m'sister got together. It wasn't like I hadn't believed it, but when I saw how he treated m'sister and the way she tried to hide it, I knew it was all true—everything I'd heard." He steeled himself as he felt his throat grow thick. He'd never said any of these things out loud. He was hearing the story for the first time just like she was. "He was... hurting her. Me and my mum didn't know what to do; any time we brought it up to Gemma she'd get really angry, or ignore us. We didn't know how to help. It was really hard for a while.

"But, she had stayed the weekend at his one time, and she came home with these bruises all over her neck. She tried to cover them and hide them with her sweater, but I saw them. I lost it." His hands pulsed in his lap, remembering the way the rage had bubbled in him like it was yesterday. "I had never been so angry in m'life, and Gemma was trying to calm me down but I was too far past any of that. I ended up going to her boyfriend's house that night, telling her and my mum I was seeing a friend. I don't think Gemma believed me but she didn't stop me.

"I don't even know what I thought I was going to do when I got there, honestly. I just wanted him to stop hurting my sister. He answered the door when I got there, and I jus' barged in and started yelling at him. I was telling him that he was going to stop hurting my sister or I was going to do something about it." He shook his head with a humorless laugh spilling from his lips, curls spilling across his forehead. How silly he had been; if only he'd known then what he knew now. "This guy—Trevor—, he laughed at me. I don't blame him now—I was some random kid running into his house threatening him as if I could actually follow through with any of it. But back then, I remember just getting so pissed. I couldn't believe he was going to laugh at me when I was telling him to stop beating m'sister. So, I tried to hit him." 

(Y/N), who had sat silently with her gaze stitched to Harry's face, had let out a soft gasp at his words. Harry's knee began to bounce, his sightless eyes never straying from the outlet in the wall he'd chosen as his focal point. "'S almost funny to think about how quickly he'd knocked me on my ass after that. It was then that I saw that there were a few other guys in the room with us, jus' watching the whole thing. I'd been too mad to see anything other than him when I got there, but now they were all sitting around laughing at me like this whole thing was a joke. I was so embarrassed, I didn't know what to do. I just sat there. 

"I remember he got in my face after that. He told me that if I ever tried to have a problem with him again, it would be very easy for something to happen to m'sister and my mum. I don't even know what I said back, but apparently it was funny enough to get everyone laughing again. I remember him looking around at all his friends, he said he liked me—even if I was a little stupid. The next time he looked at me, he told me that he did have something I could do for him if I really wanted him to leave Gemma alone. 

"I had jumped at the idea. I thought whatever it took, right? I jus' wanted to have m'sister back and my mum to have her daughter. I'd do anything. I must have been especially funny that day, because when I told them that, they all laughed again. He started walking around then, like he was looking for something but didn't really care if he found it or not. He was telling me that he liked me; I had to be brave if I jus' walked into his house and started yelling at him and tried to punch him. Trevor said he had the perfect job for me—if I really wanted to help m'sister anyway."

Harry's mind lingered on the next images the story conjured up. This was the moment everything changed for him. "I don't even know if I said anything to him after that, but I remember him pulling out a gun then, and handing it to me," Harry's throat felt too thick as he tried to swallow, "There was someone that needed to be dealt with, and if I did it for him, he'd stop calling m'sister. I don't think I said anything, but I remember I didn't take it from him right away, just sitting there staring at his hand. I guess I wasn't fast enough because he said if I didn't want to kill for him, he'd jus' get Gemma instead. It didn't make any difference to him." 

From the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N) go still. "Harry," she whispered, her voice thin and wavering. 

Keeping his eyes forward, Harry shook his head. He couldn't look at her if he wanted to finish this story. He'd crumble if he saw her. 

"I don't really remember what happened after all that well. I think I told him okay, and he showed me how to use the gun, but that was it. They gave me an address and told me to get everything cleaned up by tomorrow morning." Harry's lungs felt heavy as he tried to find enough breath for the words he knew were coming next. That night turned into the first nightmare that followed him for years. He closed his eyes, squeezing his lids shut. "I waited until my mum and Gemma were asleep before I went to the address with the gun. This... The guy, he—uh—he owed m'sister's boyfriend a lot of money, apparently, and he wasn't planning on paying it back anytime soon. They wanted me to kill him because of that. And, I did." 

Behind his closed eyes, Harry saw in too great detail every moment in that dark apartment. His hands shook now just as badly as they did then. His stomach turned at the memory of blood splattering back on his face from the force of the bullet through his skull. He had been standing too close, he knew that now, but he wasn't as good of a shot back then to be much farther away. He forced himself out of that memory, his reality shifting the longer he lingered there. 

"The whole thing was a mess. I don't know how I didn't get caught. The whole time I was jus' thinking about my mum and m'sister, and how I wanted to keep them safe. That was all I was doing; I wasn't brave like Trevor had said. I was jus' stupid, but I didn't have a choice, right?" Shaking his head, Harry moved on. "I went back to Trevor's right after, and I threw up on his lawn twice before anyone realized I was there. When they did, I remember them laughing and asking me if I really did it. I jus' threw up again. By the time I had it together, I remember him telling me that I did a good job—that he was proud of me. He had sent someone after me to make sure everything was taken care of and I didn't tell anyone I shouldn't, and he said I couldn't have done a better job. I think I stopped listening then; I didn't want to be there when he said things like that after I knew what I'd done. 

"I had thought then that that was it. That I would always remember that night and would have to learn to be okay with it, but it was done and now my family was safe. I started thinking about whether or not I could convince them to move away, and that I'd probably need to start looking for a therapist. But," he choked out, feeling far away as he remembered those early plans, "I couldn't leave after that. He said he liked me." 

The heat of (Y/N)'s gaze never wavered from where it was stuck to his profile. He felt sick thinking about what could be hiding in her pupils as she listened to him. He feared to think she saw him for who he really was now: a rotten, disgusting, awful murderer. 

Forging on, Harry swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat. "He wanted me to keep working for him. He said that no one would suspect someone like me to be working those nights like that. He wanted to take advantage of that—even if I was messy and still a little stupid, he said. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to, anyway; they had too much on me. Jus' the one job would get me locked up if they wanted—or worse if they didn't want to wait that long to deal with me trying to get away. 

"It wasn't until the second job was done that m'sister stopped coming home with bruises. She started smiling more and talking to my mum again. She said that she broke up with her boyfriend and wanted to be serious about school again. It was like everything was almost normal, again." These were easy times for Harry to recall. He liked to remember his family like that. "There were times I had to get... closer to m'jobs than jus' with a gun. Those days were hard, but I'd come home and they'd be watching a movie or drinking wine together, and I'd tell myself it was worth it. It had to be. That's why I kept doing what Trevor wanted. 

"They had to know there was something going on, but they never asked any questions. Even if they did, it wasn't like I ever gave them anything clear. I jus' told them I was tired and working too much. It was like that for a really long time. I blocked a lot of it out, but it wasn't anything I ever saw a way out of; every plan ended with m'family or me dying, or otherwise getting really hurt. I did what I had to do and... got over it as best I could." 

Looking down at his hands, he flexed the stiff joints. Thin scars marred his skin, creases from years of work that took a toll on him. The inked cross in the pocket between his thumb and forefinger was fading. Harry cataloged every detail of his own hands as he fought to stay focused amid the sickening pit forming in his stomach. 

"A few years ago, there had been a rumor going around that someone had plans to take out the head—Trevor's dad. I had heard that it was a rival, but a few of the guys had said it was coming from someone on the inside—someone who thought they could run the whole thing better. I didn't really believe it, but it was the first time anything like that had gotten any of them talking. There'd been threats before, but this one felt more real than any of them with the way a couple of the guys were even planning on what to do if something changed. 

"It gave me hope, honestly. If it really was true, then there was going to be a night that was so chaotic and everyone's attention would be focused elsewhere enough that no one would notice if I disappeared. So, I started making plans. I saved any kind of money I made, and made arrangements for my mum and sister and tried to get everything taken care of that I could get away with. By the time I heard something was actually happening, I had everything in place for us. Trevor's dad was in the hospital, and probably wasn't going to make it out. 

"It was all chaos after that. Everyone was either trying to find whoever did it—planned it—and everyone else was with Trevor and his dad. No one was keeping track of anything or anyone. It was exactly what I'd hoped for. I went home that day and told my mum and sister that we needed to leave. Something bad had happened and to keep them safe we all needed to leave right then. I didn't have time to tell them what was going on, but I remember I told Gemma it had something to do with Trevor and I knew she knew. She helped me get my mum out after that; packing as much as they could carry and grabbing the essentials. I gave them the cash I'd saved, and they left." 

This was a night Harry had never revisited. Previous jobs of his always showed up in nightmares or ran on a loop when he couldn't sleep, but the last time he saw his family was a place he never allowed his brain to go. He didn't even realized he was tearing up until he felt the pressure behind his eyes and the knot in his throat.

"My mum asked me if I was coming with them, and I had to tell her no," he murmured, "Her and m'sister would be going together, but I had to go somewhere else. It was the only way they'd be safe. I would be the one that Trevor would go after, so if I stayed away then they wouldn't get dragged into it if I was found. I had everything planned out for them: a different car, a place for them to stay, and enough money to last until they figured something else out. It was all taken care of. I—" Harry choked on the lump in his throat. "That was the last time I saw them. I don't know where they are. 

"That was years ago, though. I've been going through different towns since then, jus' hiding. This is the first time I've ever been found." 

Silence fell over the motel room as Harry took in a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as he tried to center himself. He felt distant from where he sat on the edge of the bed. It was surreal hearing his story in his own voice instead of living the worst parts of it in dreams every night. It was even worse this way.

A lull passed, the weight of his words a heavy third entity between them. The static of (Y/N)'s presence prickled at his side. His knee kept bouncing, his body restless the longer his story hung in the air. He hadn't considered the aftermath being so quiet; he had imagined shouting, screaming, (Y/N) running away from him. He didn't know what to do with this.

"Harry?" 

He didn't make any move to acknowledge her. 

"Harry? Will you please look at me?" 

Her voice wavered as she pleaded with him. He couldn't ignore her like that, not when he could already picture the tears sparkling in her eyes.

His movements were stiff as he turned to look at her. He wasn't sure what he was going to find when he saw her (his predictions ranged from mortified, to terrified, to a punch to the face in hopes of incapacitating him long enough for her to run), but what he found wasn't on his list of ideas at all. She was looking at him with big, watery eyes, the irises glittering with softened edges. Her features were melted into sympathy-drawn lines, curving and gentle with a wobbly bottom lip and downturned brows. 

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered to him, matching his eye contact just as earnestly as he. 

Listening to her, his brows pinched in the middle. "I-I don't—" His voice cut off, shaking his head as he floundered over his words. 

With a soft touch of her hand grazing over his shoulder, (Y/N) didn't pay his half-hearted denial any mind. "I-I'm so sorry that happened to you," she murmured, her voice as soft and thin as the tears in her eyes, "I can't even imagine, I don't—" 

Tears spilled over the rim of her eyes then, her voice breaking off. Her breathing came in shaky puffs, her hand on his arm tightening until her fingers were curled around his forearm. Sincerity filled her gaze as she looked at him, words failing her despite every soft sorrow in her eyes for him. 

This wasn't the kind of reaction he had been anticipating, not even a little. This worried him more than any other bout of anger or fear he had initially expected. 

"(Y/N)," he started, his voice low to match her own secretive tone despite the lack of others in their room, "I don't think I understand... I did really bad things, (Y/N), don't—I... Don't feel bad for me, yeah?" 

He could see her retaliation form on her cry-swollen lips, but before a single word could broach the air between them, she was cut off by her own whimpering cry. In a moment she had crumpled into him, dismissing the boundaries between their bodies as he was wrapped in a hug with her arms around his neck. 

Harry hesitated, his hands hovering over her back as his breathing stilled. She must really not understand the full breadth of the horrors he committed if she was still willing to touch him after learning his story. It was overwhelming in a lot of ways; this wasn't at all the kind of reaction he had ever thought anyone could have after finding out the kind of man he is, let alone someone like (Y/N). It was confusing. 

After a moment, he settled, reciprocating her hug and being that anchor for her if only for a few more moments until realization dawned. She buried her face in the brunt of his chest, his shirt growing damp from her tears and the heavy puffs of air that fanned out from her lips. Harry held her, petting his hands down her back and brushing her hair from her face the longer she melted against him. 

Soon enough, she pulled away from him, wet eyes glistening with a sniffly nose as she gazed up at him. 

With gentle graze of a hand he hadn't trusted in years, Harry brushed baby hairs out of (Y/N)'s face. She looked at him like she really believed that she should feel sorry for him, console him as if he were one of the many families he tore apart through the many jobs he worked. 

"(Y/N)," he started, voice more gentle than he thought he could manage with a lump in the back of his throat, "I don't think y'understand what I did." 

A fresh batch of tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head, the hairs he'd just brushed out of her face now returning. "N-No, Harry, I do," she insisted, gaze genuine between the fluttering of her lashes as she blinked the tears away, "I know you wouldn't have d-done any of that if you'd had a choice—I know that. I-I'm so sorry that they took ad-advantage of you, and that you've been so a-alone." Her voice cut off then, a harsh breath just a hair away from a sob exhaling from her in a shudder. She could only manage a whisper when she recovered, "You don't deserve that." 

She broke down once more, falling into Harry's chest again. He was prepared this time, ready to hold her steady and snuggle her against him. He just hoped the hammering of his heart behind his ribs wouldn't disturb her. 

Harry's breathing came in stiff pulls as he tried to process what she was telling him. While he knew he wouldn't have done the things he did had there been another option for him—had he had the knowledge he has now, he would have done many things differently back then. He knew that, but that wasn't something he ever expected another to understand. He never thought he would have the courage to share his story aloud, let alone earn this kind of response from a listener. 

(Y/N) treated him as if he were the tragedy, not the villain. 

His own eyes began to burn, gaze going watery with the walls of the motel going mushy and melting in with the carpet. He couldn't remember the last time he cried for himself; he'd cried from fear from his nightmares and missing his family, but nothing to mourn the kind of life he could have lead had he known himself better. 

"I—" he started, the lump in his throat blocking his words before they had a chance. Harry's throat bobbed as he tried to swallow around the bundle, voice thick, "I hurt people, (Y/N). I killed them." His breathing caught around the harsh word. He just wanted (Y/N) to know, be clear with the kind of person she was snuggling against. "I ruined families jus' because I wanted to save mine." 

(Y/N) only held him tighter. "I can't blame you," she whispered against his throat, the words melting into his skin, "You were in an impossible situation. It was either you or someone else, and there was never going to be a right choice. I-I can't imagine..." 

Harry didn't say anything back, instead just holding her as she did the same for him. He wanted to listen to the things she was saying, make sense of them in the reality he had accepted as his for years now. But, it felt... unsettling. 

In his own head, in his heart, Harry knew he was put in a situation that no one should ever be in—make a decision that was more than just unfair. But, the longer he sat with himself, especially after finishing those jobs, he couldn't imagine that anyone would ever see it that way. It was easier to believe he was a monster when he figured the rest of the world would agree. He never saw himself as the one to be consoled, that he was too selfish a creature to have earned that kind of experience. 

"I'm a monster, (Y/N)," he murmured into the crown of her head, strands of hair muffling his words. 

"No, you're not," she immediately argued, "You're Harry." 

All those tears that had been funneling into his eyes from deep in his chest somewhere he never allowed to be free finally spilled over. Tracks were made down his cheeks, heating his skin and leaving sticky trails of salt. His breaths came out heavy and warm, uneven with he pulls through his nose. Squeezing his eyes shut, he cried silently into (Y/N)'s hair, allowing her to hold him while he took his turn crumbling.

There were still pounds of guilt and trauma sitting in the bars around his heart, but this was the first time those burdens hadn't felt so heavy. 

Sunshine through the windows could be felt on his back, bleeding through the t-shirt (Y/N) had latched within her grip the longer she held him. 

"Thank you," he sniffled into her hair. 

(Y/N) planted a delicate kiss to the column of his throat in response. 

The shadows in the motel room shifted the longer they sat bundled on the end of the bed, the sun journeying through the sky through the window. Harry didn't know how long they sat together with tangled limbs, leaking eyes, and sniffling noses, but he could have stayed there a lot longer had he been given the chance. He could barely remember the last time he'd had an actual hug before (Y/N) let alone a cuddle for at least an hour. 

But, he couldn't stay there forever. He told her that story for a reason. He couldn't abandon his plan now. 

Harry peeled away from her fist, her embrace around his neck staying firm enough to keep him from going too far as she gazed up at him. His eyes felt raw as he matched her contact. 

"I have to go, (Y/N)," he crooned, voice crackling. 

Her arms looped around his neck shifted with her hands settling firmly on the back of his shoulders. "What? Why?" she panicked some, clinging to him, "No, I don't want you to go, Harry." 

Petting her hair back, he tried to soothe her as best he could despite his clumsy movements. "But, we're not running anymore, remember? I need to deal with this." 

(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out as she gazed up at him. "I thought you meant we were going home." 

Shaking his head, Harry stayed gentle with her, "We can't yet—not while they're still looking for us. They all know about home now, and we can't go back when I know they'd follow us. I have to take care of them here. Before we do anything else." 

She looked uneasy now, gaze dropping down the planes of his face. "What do they want from you?" 

"I don't know," he shrugged as much as he could with her still wrapped in his arms, "They might want me to come back, or"—Harry steeled himself at the second prospect—"I might know too much to be left running around everywhere." 

Color drained from (Y/N)'s face as she listened to him. "Y-You think they might kill you?" 

Harry only shushed her, a tender hand on the back of her head guiding her back to her hiding space in the cubby of his neck when he saw fresh tears glimmering in her eyes. He didn't know what to say to something like that; confirming the horror didn't seem like a good idea, but he didn't have it in him to start lying right after coming clean like he has. His fingers threaded through her hair, blunt nails scratching at her scalp in soothing runs as she whimpered in his neck. 

As much as he might have wanted to stay just where he was, cuddling and hushing her as if her tears were the worst of his problems, but he couldn't push off the inevitable for much longer. 

Using his grip on the back of her neck, Harry pulled her away from her hiding place. He was greeted with swollen lips and red eyes he worried he wouldn't ever see normal again. He hoped against it all that he'd get to see her smile at least once more. 

"I need you to listen really well, okay, (Y/N)?" he asked her, thumb running a circuit of comforting circles on the side of her neck. 

She hesitated before she nodded. "But, I don't want you to leave." 

Despite it all, a genuine smile wriggled its way onto Harry's features. What a sweet thing she was, even in the face of everything he'd laid out for her. The first smile he'd made in days being offered to her. 

Harry kept silent to her protest, instead untangling himself from her hold. He stood to the full of his height, offering her his hand. With her palm pressed against his, she followed suit to stand beside him, their fingers laced together. 

He led them around the bed, inching towards the bedside table. With his free hand and (Y/N) behind him in the narrow channel between the bed and the wall, Harry pulled the drawer open. Inside, the black handgun he had stowed away rattling against the laminate. 

Swallowing, he took the firearm and turned to face her. He schooled his features into something stern and stoic. He wanted to be strong like he knew she needed him to be, especially when she saw what he was offering. 

"I need you to use this if someone comes looking for us," he told her, his voice even and low. 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened when she realized what she was looking at, her immediate. reaction coming in the form of her shaking head. "I-I don't—I'm not—" 

"I know," he cut her off, squeezing her hand in his, "I want this to be a last resort." Walking her back away from the side table, her brought her to the end of the bed, his back facing the window in case anyone decided to peek through the sliver between the curtains. "Hide first," he explained, "And, I don't want y'answering the door for anyone after I leave. Even if it's me, I have a key. Don't let me in even if I ask, I should be able to let myself in. Don't answer the door for anyone, especially if y'don't recognize the who's on the other side. Jus' hide, okay? Y'can hide in the bathroom if y'want, but if anyone gets in and tries to do anything to you, I need y'to use this and protect yourself." 

(Y/N) could have gone cold the way she was frozen still in front of him; if not for the heat of her hand in his, he would have assumed as much. She stared at the gun he was offering towards her as if a gift, the weapon sitting in his hand between them. 

"Can I show y'how to use it?" he asked her, gently trying to ease her into the non-option she had of protecting herself.

"Harry..." 

"I know," he said, "Please, (Y/N). I jus' need to be able to know that I won't be leaving y'to get hurt without a chance to protect yourself." 

Looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, he could see her resolve crumble away piece by piece. He hated to think about her having to use something like this as much as he was sure she did, but that didn't change the fact that someone was looking for her and wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if given the chance. 

"Okay," she peeped out, her hand in his slowly loosening as she grabbed for the gun. 

Her grip was loose and shaky as Harry tried to show her the basics. With the barrel aimed at the ground, he showed her how to switch the safety, something he only mimed as he didn't want to scare her more. He encouraged her to wrap both hands around the grip, finger curling around the trigger. 

"It's heavy," she said, her voice a quiet whimper as her hands continued to shake. 

"I know," he told her, adjusting her hold to ensure the recoil didn't harm her any more than a bone's rattle. If she had to use it, anyway. 

Silence settled over them as he ensured she would be as safe as she could be while he was gone.

"Both hands, okay?" he told her once more, her grip steadying the longer he allowed her to get used to the weight. "Every time y'pick it up, the barrel needs to be facing away from you. Even if the safety's on, I don't want y'aiming it anywhere near yourself."

"Okay," she said, another repetition of the small word through his instructions. She swallowed, her features twisted into something too scared for Harry's heart to not break over. "This is a last resort right? I-In case of an emergency." 

Harry's jaw ticked, hearing the waver in her voice. He hated knowing he was the reason she was preparing for an emergency like this. "Only in case of emergency, yeah." 

Taking the firearm out of her hands, he left it on the bed to (Y/N)'s relief. She wiped her hands off on her pants as he rifled through his duffle bag, finding the wad of cash he'd been using to fund their run. Taking the bundle to her, he pushed it into her empty hands. 

Before she could have a chance to shoot off a round of questions, Harry steeled himself. "(Y/N) look at me for a second." 

That tremor of fear she'd gained after dealing with the gun remained as she looked up at him with watery eyes. 

Shoving the cash into her hand, Harry ensured she was listening before he spoke. "If 'm not back by the morning, I need y'to leave. 'M going to leave the car for you, and you're going to take all of the money I have left, okay? Jus' get home. Don't wait for me or try to look for me, only worry about getting back home." 

Before he could even finish speaking, (Y/N) was shaking her head, protests on the tip of her tongue. "I'm not—" 

"Yes, you are," he insisted, unwilling to hear her argument, "I promised y'when we left that y'would make it home and be safe. This is the only way I can make sure I can keep that promise, even if 'm not the one taking y'home." When (Y/N) began to push against his hand with the money, he stayed solid where he stood, matching her eyes with unwavering contact. "I don't want to argue with you on this, (Y/N). This is final." 

Her gaze softened, matching the refractions in the tears pearling on her waterline. "Okay," she peeped after a pause, her voice barely above a whisper. 

With the bills wadded in her hand, Harry disregarded the space between them as he pulled her into a hug. She melted into his hold that was becoming familiar, burrowing her face into his neck with her hands around his middle. He curled himself around her, the tip of his nose buried in the hair on the top of her head, his eyes falling closed as he pulled in a deep breath. His arms around her pulsed, his heartbeat rattling in his chest. 

"'M sorry, (Y/N)," he murmured, lips brushing the crown of her head, "'M sorry I got y'involved in this." 

(Y/N) shook her head, "It's not your fault." 

While Harry couldn't accept that answer, he gave his own in the form of a kiss pressed to the top of her head. "I need to go now, okay?" he told her, voice muffled in her hair. 

"Where are you going?" she asked, voice small to match his. 

"Not too far, I don't think, since I want to leave y'the car," he said, trying to stitch together the details of his plan after such a vulnerable start to his day. 

Drawing away, she looked up at him with questioning eyes. "You think they'll find you? How?" 

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. "'M sure they already have an idea of where 'm hiding." 

It was clear (Y/N) didn't enjoy his answer, but she didn't ask any more questions. Instead, she followed him quietly as he readied himself to meet his fate. While it wasn't a new feeling for him—accepting the fact that this outing might be his last—it was different knowing that someone would be waiting for him, knowing exactly what happened if he didn't make it back. It felt a lot more final this way. An omen—one he couldn't decide was good or bad. 

With everything ready, and a plan to grab the gun he had packed in the car, Harry moved towards the door. (Y/N) stopped him with a soft hand on his biceps.

"I'll see you tonight, right?" Her eyes were pleading as she looked up at him. 

"I'll try m'best." His gaze lingered on her. She still looked at him with softened eyes and wonderous gaze despite all the ugly secrets she now knew about him. His heart ached in his chest. "Thank you, (Y/N)." 

He placed his hand on her's where it was resting on his arm. He curled his fingers around her own, giving her a small squeeze before he peeled her touch away. 

All the way out the door, he could feel her eyes on him. He couldn't look back.

—————

(Y/N)'s legs felt cramped, the last six hours of having been curled up in the bathtub now showing in her aching muscles. Despite that, she didn't even think about stretching out, keeping herself bundled with her legs against her chest and arms looped around her shins. 

The sun had gone down hours ago, wiping away the final slice of light that was draped through the main room. The gun Harry had given her laid untouched, safety clicked, at her feet. Her breathing was the only sound in the silent room. 

Every time she could hear a set of feet trudging past the front door, her ears perked, trying to find any evidence that it might be Harry. Every time she came up with the opposite answer, her heart dropped an inch more. 

As much as she wanted to hear someone familiar, for a pair of those heavy footsteps to stop in front of her door, a sense of panic filled her whenever they drew too close. But, she still felt hopeless every time they moved on without a lingering second. She didn't want to be alone, but she feared what having the opposite would mean if she wished a little too hard. 

The otherwise silent room left her too much room to think about what Harry had told her today. 

She knew he didn't think of his story as much of a tragedy as it was. She didn't think he even realized just how terribly he was taken advantage of and convinced he had no choice but the most evil one. 

He was a victim, too. 

(Y/N) knew Harry. Despite all the walls he presented and maintained, she'd gotten glimpses as to who he was at his core through these last months and especially this past week. There was always an assumption that he had a few secrets hiding behind his barricades, but she never would have guessed them to be something of this nature. She couldn't even imagine what it would feel like to carry something like that around, no one there to support him.

There was no way to comprehend what it would feel like to be in Harry's shoes. Doing everything on his own for so long before running into her, allowing a small smidge of himself to show to her, only for them to land in dirty motels with tear-stains on a floral bedspread. 

Harry thought he was a monster, but (Y/N) could only consider him brave. He was the strongest person she knew.

There would be no way he wouldn't return to her, then, right? He was the strongest, smartest, most capable person she knew. Their teary cuddling couldn't be the last time she saw him. Right? 

Another set of voices—three different ones, this time—interrupted (Y/N)'s spiraling. Her hands clenched around her knees, her breathing pausing as she tried to listen as best she could through both the cracked bathroom door and the bolted room door. 

Soon enough, the volume peaks. They were right outside the door. (Y/N) could almost clearly make out the words through the thin walls. 

A beat later, not a second of lag, the voices began to retreat, the volume lowering until nothing but muffles were heard. They'd walked past. It wasn't Harry, none of them. 

Closing her eyes, (Y/N) knew she had to believe that Harry would come back. She couldn't see herself leaving here without him, even if time was something they were running out of. 

But, he promised her. He promised her he'd make sure she was safe. 

She knew Harry, and he wouldn't break his promises.

That was how she knew he would come back to her. 

—————

Despite the sore in her muscles and the exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, (Y/N) went stiff when she heard the doorknob jiggle. Not once in the hours since Harry left had anyone even lingered outside the door, let alone try to breach the lock. Her breathing stuck in her throat when the incessant noise continued. In lethargic movements, her hands held a tremor as she reached for the gun at her feet. 

She swore her heart stopped when the jiggling stopped, a muffled curse being heard from the other side of the door. The voice sounded familiar—the timbre, the tone, everything sounding like the one person she'd been waiting for. (Y/N) wanted to run to the door and let him in, her instincts pushing her to abandon post. But, she had to remember: Harry had a key, he'd let himself in. 

Though, a creeping argument in the back of her mind started, what if he lost his key? What if he was hurt, bleeding and aching for her help? What if he couldn't use his key and she was going to leave him to die out there all because of a flimsy rule he'd made before walking into battle? 

Her hands shook that much harder, her loose grip on the gun wavering. 

Over the roar of her heartbeat in her ears, (Y/N) heard the jamb give away, the sticky lock finally opening. The door was pushed open, whiny hinges creaking. She heard the door be closed after a set of heavy footsteps made their way into the motel, the lock being bolted into place once more. Only the sound of labored breathing replaced the sudden racket in the silent room. 

Please be Harry, please be Harry, please be Harry.

She tried to steady her hand on the firearm the longer the silence dragged on. 

"(Y/N)? Are you still here, love?" 

Tears sprung into (Y/N)'s eyes at that voice, relief flooding her system. She let go of the gun at her feet though her hands still shook as she stayed stuck in her pose in the bathtub. 

"Harry?" 

Those heavy footsteps that introduced him to the motel started again, the pace much faster as he crossed the room to her hiding spot. 

The second he appeared in the doorway, (Y/N) knew she was supposed to be scared of him. She was supposed to be at least wary of the swelling bruises beginning to form on his face, fingerprints denting the skin of his neck. Stray scratches littered his arms, specks of blood marring his skin. His hair was a mess, strands sticking at odd angles. The worst of it was blood that was clearly not his, staining his shirt, splatters reaching as far as his cheeks. The red looked especially vivid beside the green of his wild eyes and the creamy tone of his skin. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his shoulders seeming wider in the doorway with his fists clenched at his sides. 

But, even with every cue telling her she should keep cowering away from him, her heart still lurched in her chest at the sight. Under all the mess and core, that was her Harry. She knew him, she trusted him, and he came back to her. How could she be scared of that?

Following the bruising beats of her heart, (Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was leaping out of her hiding place. Disregarding the stiff set of her muscles and the weapon left in the tub, she jumped through the bathroom before landing in his arms. 

"Harry!" she bubbled, clinging to him in a tight hug. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, with her arms around his neck with her cheek pressed to his. "Oh my god, you're okay, you're okay, Harry." 

Her tongue felt like mush in her mouth the way she could barely form a coherent thought before she was dissolving to babbles. She didn't even realize she was crying until she could taste the salt of her tears. At least that explained the sticky lump in the back of her throat, too heavy to talk around. 

Harry held her just as tightly, a strong arm supporting her underneath her thighs while the other roped around her waist. She could feel every breath he made, every ripple of his muscles; she even thought she could feel the thump of his heart. 

Pulling away from his neck, (Y/N) reared back just enough to see his face though she didn't go too far. Shifting her hold on him, she pushed his hair out of his face, his features watery and distorted through her tears. Smears of blood stained her palms, but (Y/N) didn't care; she could be grossed over the blood later, right now all she could see was Harry. Everything she had hoped for, for the last handful of hours had actually come true, how could she focus on anything else?

Eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom, Harry looked up at her reverently. "'M here, (Y/N)," he murmured to her, voice broken. The longer he looked at her, that glimmer in his eyes rose until it was a shimmer of overfilled tears. "God, (Y/N)." 

Holding his cheeks in her palm, she nodded her head, understanding the overwhelming feeling she was sure he felt bloom in his chest. "What happened?" she whispered, voice thin.

Shaking his head, those same curls she had brushed out of his face fell over his forehead once more. Some strands were darkened with blood. "'S over," he told her, his own tone small to match her own, "'M out. They aren't going to bother me anymore. 'S really over." 

(Y/N) swallowed. "H-How?" 

His jaw tensed under her hands. Another shake of his head was granted. "I-I don't want to—I can't talk about that." With the way his eyes darted from her own, falling down her features in a glazed trail, she knew this wasn't something to push him on. "B-But 's done—(Y/N), 's over." 

Something in him snapped then, as if he heard himself for the first time. Harry crumbled then, his features twisting and flushing as rivers of tears fell from his eyes. He cried the way he did after his nightmares—heavy and nonstop. 

Harry clutched her to his body as he sobbed into her neck, having shielded himself in her hair once his breath started shuddering in his lungs. He murmured over and over It's over, it's over, it's over, into her skin, the mantra slicking her skin like the tears that ran down his cheeks. (Y/N) held him even as his grip gave out, sliding down his body until she was planted flat on her feet, her fingers running a soothing circuit through his dirty hair. 

Pressing her lips to the side of his head, (Y/N) felt her own voice thin as she spoke, "You did it, Harry. You're done." 

His arms around her pulsed, her body flush against his with his fingertips denting into her back from how tightly he held her. Hesitantly peeling himself away from where he was cuddled into her neck, he gazed at her with bright green eyes, bloodshot and tired. 

"I-I want to shower," he murmured to her, the first thing he managed to utter other than his disbelieved mantra. 

A gentle smile touched at (Y/N)'s cheeks, a breathless laugh exhaling through her nose, "Yeah?" When Harry nodded his head, his tears slowing though he didn't share in her amusement, she brushed her hand through his curls once more before beginning to separate from his hold. "Okay, just let me... I left your gun in the tub, then I lea—" 

The second she tried to shake off his grip and take her own touch away, Harry resisted with a shake of his head and his hold tightening. His arms were a rope around her waist, tying her to him. "No, no, no," he bubbled, desperation sinking into his eyes, "I-I don't want to be alone. Don't leave." 

(Y/N) paused where she stood, her eyes matching his watery gaze. His irises swam, softened and scarred as if she left the room, he would never see her again. She couldn't say no to him. 

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I-I can stay, it's okay," she soothed him, "Did you—You want me to get in with you or stay in the bathroom?" 

As much as it felt odd to ask if he wanted her to shower with him despite the fact they'd never been more intimate than a few kisses over a week ago, (Y/N) felt like there were no longer lines between them given their circumstances. The things Harry shared with her and the time she spent adhered to his side were more intimate than sex. 

Nodding his head sent a few curls she had pushed back back over his forehead, some strands sticky and darker than the rest. "Get in with me," he rushed out, looking entirely too fragile for someone who just defended himself against any number of people out to get him, "Y'can say no, I-I jus' need you. Y-You make me feel okay, and-and—" 

She cut him off with a nod of her own head, her hand landing on his shoulder with a light squeeze to the cuff. It hurt seeing him try to explain himself when he didn't even seem to have fully processed the last day. "Okay, okay, I'll get in with you," she told him, eyes wide and matching his so he stayed with her, "I just... I don't want anything else happening." 

It was almost frantic the way he was quick to reject her thinking. His hands on her back pressed her closer to him. "Of course not. I jus'... I need you." 

After Harry let her break away from him, he still stayed close to her as clothing began to be dropped on the floor. Despite the static of his presence behind her and spying his bloody clothing from the corner of her eye, she didn't feel the warmth of his gaze on her skin as more and more was revealed. Even in the small space, he kept his back to her, eyes kept to himself even as his hands shook, aching to have the comfort of her touch. 

Down to her underwear, she saw Harry step into the bathtub first, the gun being plucked out of the basin and left on the countertop. From her peripheral, she saw him hesitate, as if he were afraid to both touch and let go of the firearm. Moments later, he stepped into the tub, twisting the temperature knobs with the kitschy mermaid curtain pulled closed. 

Letting out a breath, (Y/N) dropped the remainder of her clothing to the floor. While she was sure Harry had too much on his mind to be worrying about the appearance of her body, there was still something that felt unsettled knowing that this would be the first time he saw her naked. Before they'd even shared a handful of kisses, he was going to see her bare. If not for the fragile air around them, (Y/N) would have thought it was funny. 

Tugging back the curtain just enough, she stepped into the tub behind Harry. His back faced her as he wet his hair under the cold water, neither having the patience to wait for the stream to heat up like normal. More tattoos were revealed to her now that his arms were covered, along with scars that dotted his back she wished she didn't have to know about. 

At the sound of her joining him, Harry looked over his shoulder at her, hair dripping wet with pink tinted drops hitting the tub. His gaze didn't stray from her face as his eyes softened that much more just before he turned around to reach for her. He didn't pay any attention to her bare skin, every curve and dip being forgotten in favor of the comfort her touch could offer. 

His hands cupped the soft of her hips as he tugged her to his chest, fingertips denting the soft flesh. His skin was cold as he rested his forehead on hers, her body flush against his while the water showered from overhead. (Y/N)'s eyes fell to his chest, watching the way the water swirled the rusty drain in a cyclone of blood-stained water. Spots across his body showed more injuries than she previously noticed in the form of bruises and angry slashes. 

Harry didn't pay any of the pain he may have felt any mind, instead letting his eyes fall closed as he breathed her in. His hands on her hips shifted to loop around her waist just the way they had been before they stepped into the shower. His muscles relaxed further when the water began to warm, the spray beginning to fill the bathroom with steam. 

This felt more intimate than sex even to (Y/N). She had never just been held like this, with no implication of something more coming. 

He held her under the warm water as his breathing evened into steady paces, (Y/N) running her hands through his hair and his shoulders. She couldn't reach much of him with the way Harry held her, but she washed him as gently as she could with the places she could reach, allowing him to calm in her hold. Every now and then, his features twisted into something painful, silent tears falling from his eyes. She worried that she might be hurting him, but when he only held her tighter, she figured he had other things on his mind in those moments. 

Despite those moments when his fragility peeked out higher, this was the most calm she had ever seen him. Water ran down his body in cleaning rivers, taking away every bit of armor he had donned for the last however many years, leaving all of the soft bits behind. (Y/N) was used to see him stoic, clean from any kind of messy feeling or interaction, but that didn't mean she didn't still pick up on his restless hands, anxious gaze, or the constant need he seemed to have to be aware of everything at all times. She'd never seen him allow his brain to turn off like he was now. She hoped the only thing he felt now was relief. 

She was sure he was going to find a way to make this all his fault, that he should never be forgiven for the things he was forced to do today, but, if even for the next twenty minutes, she hoped he'd take this relief and comfort; she hoped he'd realized just how much he deserved to be treated gently. 

After the bathroom had sufficiently been filled with steam, the humidity clinging to every surface despite the still open bathroom door, (Y/N) asked, "Is it alright if I wash your hair?" Her fingers glided over his shoulders, touch as tender as her whispered voice. 

Harry hummed a cracked confirmation, his features giving that tell-tale twist as a slew of tears dripped down his cheeks. "Thank you," he breathed. 

Blinking his eyes open, Harry watched as she reached for one of the bottles he'd left on the ledge from his morning shower. It was an odd angle she had to work with, seeing as he didn't let her move very far away, out she'd work with it if this was all he wanted to feel more at ease. 

Ducking his head, he allowed her to lather his strands in the off-brand apple scented shampoo he'd purchased on sale a month prior. Suds formed between the waves, bright and sparkling against the dark color. Some bubbles popped up a pink hue, but (Y/N) didn't try to focus on what tinted them. 

Instead, she scratched her nails soothingly along his scalp, letting him sink into her that much more. "I love your hair, Harry," she murmured to him, words a secret only for him to hear. 

A watery voice piped up over the beating of the shower, "Yeah?" 

With a small smile touching the corner of her lips. He was cute like these, even if the circumstances were devastating. "Mhm," she hummed, "Your curls are perfect, especially since they've gotten longer. And, the color's very pretty with your eyes." 

His breathing labored just that much more as he listened to her, his grip on her tightening with her chest flush against his. "Me and my mum have the same eyes," is all he shared with her, his voice delicate enough to be blown away with the steam. 

"Really?" (Y/N) pushed, hoping he'd talk more about his family. She hoped the memory of them would comfort him. 

"Mhm," his hum came out on the whinier side, "Me, her, and m'sister." 

"I remember that picture you had" she told him, rinsing her hands of the suds before urging him towards the spray, "You're all very beautiful." 

Harry fell silent, allowing the water to wash away the blood that had stuck in his strands. The hot water had pushed a deeper flush onto his cheeks, making his eyes that much more green even if they did look a bit broken. 

(Y/N) didn't push him for more as she reached for his conditioner in a matching scent. He kept his grip tight on her as she massaged the cream through his curls, using this as more of an excuse to give him tender care as opposed to clean him. 

"What did your sister get her degrees in?" (Y/N) asked, thinking of the graduation picture he had displayed in his home. The only piece of decor he had. 

His gaze softened some as he thought about his family. "She did a lot with English and psychology," he started, "She wanted to be a writer at first, but before we left, I remember she had talked about wanting to do something to help people. She started looking into things for—um—mental health and people who had gone through trauma. I-I don't know what she's doing now, though." 

Listening, (Y/N)'s lips thinned. She didn't bother trying to push anymore after his last statement. She didn't want him focusing on the fact he didn't know what his family was doing, or even where in the world they were. 

Pushing him to rinse once more, Harry stepped out of the spray free of any blood on his body with his injuries clean and muscles softened under the warm water. His body didn't seem so heavy now, only tired. 

"Feel clean?" she asked, her own hair dripping wet against her back though she had no plans to wash the locks. 

He gave her a quiet nod, a sniffle scrunching his nose. 

For the first time since stepping into the shower, Harry's gaze strayed from the decent area of her face and the wall behind her, dropping down her body. She wasn't sure what he saw that had him scrunching his brows and his eyes turning sad once more. 

Before she could say much to distract him, Harry's hands began to shake on her back. "I don't deserve to touch you," he whispered, voice just small enough so it wouldn't break under the weight of his feelings, "Not after what I've done." 

His expression shifted with watery eyes and downturned lips. A cinch appeared between his brows. His lungs rattled in his chest though he didn't make any move to keep his hands off of her. 

Evening her breathing, (Y/N) did her best to keep a cap on her own feelings. She wanted Harry to feel like he could break down, be honest about his feelings, without worrying about her. She knew that if he cried any, he would take it as validation to his words, or push whatever he felt to the side in favor of doting over her. 

"Don't say that, Harry," she argued gently, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. She used the leverage of her hold to pull him down, their gazes matching. "You did what you had to do to protect yourself. Today, and every other day." 

Shaking his head, Harry's bottom lip wobbled with his tears mixing in with the water dripping down his face. "I-I—Don't—I...," he cut himself off with a deep breath being sucked in, his eyes squeezing closed as he continued, "'M disgusting—I don't deserve to touch you." 

Sweeping in a deep breath (Y/N) did her best to stay composed as she pulled his arms from the loop they made around her body. Blinking his eyes open, he looked defeated as if he really believed he had convinced her of his delusion and this was the punishment. Instead, (Y/N) pulled his palms to her face, her own hands guiding him. She held him steady as she puckered her lips and pressed kisses to his palms, the tip of her nose skimming his fingers as she spied him through the gaps. Finishing, she pressed them flat against her cheeks, her guiding hands staying atop to keep him from leaving her. 

"I love your hands," she told him, allowing him to catch the view of her willingly holding them to her skin, "They took care of me and kept me safe as much as you did. Be nice." 

A fresh batch of tears began to flood out of his eyes. Harry didn't say anything as he rested his forehead on hers. His hands on her skin turned solid on their own accord as he clung to her.

They stayed under the spray long enough for the water to run cold, clinging to one another.

—————

thyme represents courage; facing the past

eeeeep only one part left and now you know all the things about him!!! thank you so much for sticking w me for this! so sorry fi theres any mistakes and if you have any ideas or requests or anything please send them in!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry angst #harry x reader #harry au #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #love on tour #harrys house #pleasing #as it was #satellite

[maryangelex]

Simon Riley would definitely be a girl dad.

He would be so patient with his daughter(s) and just so damn sweet. All the affection he lacked in his childhood and his past would just ooze out of him intrinsically the minute he held his little girl for the first time.

Imagine the baby’s first night home. He would not take his eyes off his little girl. The slightest amount of fussing and he’s worked up, mans would be more stressed about her comfort and wellbeing than he’d ever been about himself or anyone on the battlefield.

Everything would be a mission: Diaper change? Roger that. She’s hungry? On it. Crying cus her pacifier fell out? Engage immediately.

And when she’s older, of course he’s gonna play with her, that man is gonna be her best friend. That little girl is gonna be the boss of him though, he’s under her command. Princess tea parties with dad complacently sitting at the smallest plastic pink chair and the tiniest teacup in that behemoth of a man’s fingers. The tiara is a necessity too.

And when they’re role playing it has to be her way. If he says something off-script she’ll let him know and he’d say “Oh, understood…Sorry, love” And yeah big, bad, gruff voiced Simon is using a girl voice, unless he’s playing a prince or a villain which is a rare occurrence in their playtime.

The older she gets the more love grows in his once cold heart if that’s even possible. He’d be so protective of her, so kind and gentle and understanding yet he’d be like her shadow and guardian angel. He wouldn’t be a “chill dad” because he’s used to seeing danger in every situation and knows anyone/everyone could have ulterior motives with his little girl. But he’d definitely be an understanding dad; super authoritative, never authoritarian.

He’d always tell her how proud he is of her, “Love ya, kiddo” at any and every moment. He would just overall be the dad he unfortunately never had, he’d make it his goal for his little girl to never feel what he felt. Only the love he deserved and later got when he met his wife.

#call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #ghost riley #simon ghost riley #fanfic #task force 141 #tf 141 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #headcanon #imagine #ghost riley imagine #simon riley headcanons #simon riley imagine #i’m crying #im definitely projecting

[bakubunny]

this is loosely based off of personal experience.

being tokoyami’s dumb— but sweet, little angel, strolling through a strip mall with him. it’s nice outside so why not take his pretty girl to an outdoor mall so she can get some sun and fresh air. he’s got you decked out in a soft sun dress, frilly and floral, your jelly sandals scrapping the sidewalk as you practically skip beside him, your hand closed around three of his fingers. you two had a carefree day for once, and you had behaved the whole time like he knew you would, you always do for him. so he thought you were well deserving of a treat. a toy.

thinking about the two of you browsing the selections of adult toys in the dim lighting of a sex shop, the hum of rock music drumming through the speakers as tokoyami stood behind you, guarding his little princess while you went around viewing all the options. then one caught your eye, big and thick and long…but you weren’t paying any mind to the dimensions, of course not. this dildo was baby pink, confetti sprinkled insides, it was adorable. he watched as your hands latched around the box, turning to show him your find like an excited tot would show a new barbie.

“daddy, this one’s sooo pretty.”

there was a dark glint in his eyes that you didn’t register as he took the toy in hand, dark shadow nothing but an almost translucent whisp as he viewed over toko’s shoulder.

“bold choice,” the shadow purred, to which toko gave the extension of himself a look before turning back to you.

“this one’s a bit bigger than the toys you usually take angel…ya’sure?”

your eyebrows were knitting together, “no no..i don’t think it’s that big. i can take it. i promise i can.”

“i’m sure. you’re my big girl after all.”

it wasn’t until after you heard the soft pop of the lube cap did you realize, maybe it was a bit bigger than usual..

glad to know i’m not the only one who writes loosely based on personal experience

but goodness. this is just lovely. and makes me think of so many things. i’m warm. 🥴🫣 thanks for sharing love.

#sorry i don’t have much to say i’m a little out of it today #x reader #tokoyami fumikage #aged up characters #tw daddy kink

[sourpatchys]

RE: kink post. Daryl is touch starved, and has a thing for tits. Develops the biggest housewife kink in Alexandria, plus a breeding kink after having the baby talk. Indulges in the hunter/prey thing after being asked by his partner. Enjoys bondage, probably.

I agree with this whole heartedly!

The housewife kink is something I’ve never thought about though! I have a few ideas brewing from that!

(This ended up being much longer than I expected. It was originally just supposed to be a small summary, but it’s 3am and my creativity juices were flowing)

You aren’t together, not really. Everyone knows you care for one another and they’re just waiting— begging— for one of you to break the ice and make a move. Daryl being the closed off, touched starved man that he is— honestly never let himself think of you of anything other than someone he trusted, someone he could count on no matter what the occasion was.

Coming to Alexandria was a rough patch between the two of you. You loved it, you wanted to believe this was what you deserved after fighting for survival for so long, you craved the safety net that the prison had given you before it was taken away. Daryl wanted it too— he needed it— but he refused to believe it was a dream come true. So instead he got angry.

He was angry with the group, and worst of all he was angry at you. He wanted this for you, the smile on your face while you were doing something as stupid as brushing your teeth with toothpaste dripping out of your mouth made him want it even more. But it wasn’t real— it couldn’t be real— and you were making him crave it.

Hungry is the best word to describe it. He was hungry for your happiness, hungry for the domestic bliss that shadowed your every move.

Baking cookies, sweeping the floor, propping his disgusting boots by the door to make them ‘look nice’. You ironed his shirts and got upset at him if he didn’t take care of himself— you had even started to pack him lunches when he would go outside the walls.

That’s when the flutters started— that’s when he realized what he felt for you was more than just companionship.

He started to look forward to seeing you doing your self-designated chores.

Then one day, after a run that went south, he found you in the garage stitching up a rip in the seam of his jacket— and suddenly it all changed.

Now, Daryl wasn’t doing this to hurt you— no, call it a scientific experiment of sorts. He started dirtying up his clothes on purpose, rubbing dirt on his cheek when he knew he had a rag in his back pocket, taking his sweet time getting up if he found himself knocked on the ground— he got messier with walkers too.

In any case his experiment paid off— and if the tightness in his jeans was anything to go by— something else was going to change too.

#sourshush #sour answers #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader

[stvolanis]

saw the post about cutesy smut and im thinking like,,, cutesy smut is such a nancy wheeler thing in a coquette way ykwim? im thinking youre both super friendly with each other cause youre practically best friends who are dating each other with tons of quick kisses and soft touches and giggly makeout sessions and really sweet movie cuddles and eating each other out at one of your houses during sleepovers like UGGH 🎀😩

OMG I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THISSS!! I made both reader and Nancy subs in this because I thought that would be a cute idea, hope you don’t mind💕💕

Strawberry kisses

(one-shot)

PAIRINGS: Sub!Nancy Wheeler x Sub!Fem! Reader

WARNINGS: Nancy & reader are basically FWB, foul language, honestly just fluff and cutesy little things

NSFW WARNINGS: cunnilingus, breast play, fingering, making out, praise, scissoring

Nancy Wheeler had to be the prettiest girl you knew.

Her hair, once long, was now short and curly, rested a little above her shoulders. It made her neck look inviting as you watched her click on a necklace with a heart locket on it. The necklace you gifted her about a year ago, a celebratory gift for her 18th birthday. There wasn’t a day after that she didn’t wear it, only removing it when she was going to take a shower or sleep.

You were kids together, girls together, and now you were women together. You’ve been with her for every birthday, every Christmas, and every heartbreak. The most notorious being Steve Harrington; the man you hated since the day you met him. Always an asshole.

You hated him so badly because you knew she deserved better. Someone who could treat her better. Someone like you.

But, nonetheless, you sat and comforted her through it and effectively helped her through the breakup—and only then had she realized just how much she loved you; and not in a friendly way. In a “I want to hold you while we kiss in the rain and then go home and sleep together” kinda way.

She looked beautiful tonight, even in her pajamas she’s had since she was a freshman. Her skin glowing from the moonlight peaking through her blinds, the soft light of her lamps illuminating the room. You sat perched at the head of her bed, watching her with soft eyes as she brushed through her curly hair.

“You look pretty, Nance.” You muttered. She giggled as she looked at you through her mirror. “I’m not even all dressed up.” She smiled. You felt your heart thud against your chest. Your beautiful, beautiful girl.

“Still pretty.” You replied back with a toothy smile. Blush formed across her cheeks as she broke eye contact through the mirror. “Let’s watch a movie.” You huffed out, dragging yourself out of the bed and to her growing collection of comedy movies.

You happily picked up “The Breakfast Club”, a favorite of you and Nancy’s, sliding it into the Tv. Nancy laid down on her bed, gently patting the empty space next to her, an invitation which you took as you slid yourself next to her. Nancy’s hand intertwined with yours and the jewelry on her finger was cold against your skin, but you didn’t mind.

This was how you always dreamed it would be. You and her together, just like this. Content. Happy. She made you happy. You only hoped you did the same for her. You couldn’t think of anything else but her, even as she giggled at the movie on screen, you were focused on her. Always only her.

She was your sun, and you were here moon. Orbiting around her, basking in her golden light. You were in her shadow when it came to social aspects, but it was other people who made you feel that way; never her. She introduced you, always involved you in conversation, always smiled at you to make sure you were okay. The small hand she would rest on your lower back made you feel a sense of peace, knowing she would always be there.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?” She asked as she titled your head up to look at her. You blushed profusely. “Perfect, baby.” You replied with a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help yourself as your lips connected with hers. So soft and plump, it only made you want more.

She giggled into the kiss, making you giggle. Your legs tangled together and your hands roamed her slim body as hers roamed yours. Her manicured nails skimmed across your back, skillfully unclipping your silk bra from under your shirt. She gave a toothy smile as you laid butterfly kisses on her neck; your hands sliding up to cup her cheek softly.

Your knee pressed into her clothed core, and she let out a small whimper when you began rocking her against your knee. Her hands found their way to your breasts, fondling them and gently pinching and pulling your perk nipples, hard from the touch of her hands and sensitive to the touch.

She panted against you when your hand slipped into the waist band of her pajama pants and down her laced underwear. Your finger circled around her clit teasingly, and her hand found it’s way into your panties. You felt so dirty, having her against you like this. The both of your touching each other, the both of your mouths hung agape as soft whines and moans slipped past them.

Two of her fingers slipped into your entrance, and a squelching noise could be heard, making Nancy moan softly. She pumped her slim fingers in you at an even pace, curling her fingers just enough to hit your sensitive spot inside. Each time her fingers rubbed against your g-spot, you felt yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Need you. Need your pussy, Nance.” You whined against her, she nodded her head. Nancy slipped her fingers from your entrance and your fingers left her bud as she stripped herself of her clothes. You slid your underwear down and took your shirt off.

Nancy laid down as you hovered your core over her face as you came eye level with hers. She was so pretty. A soft pink hue, glistening with her wet slick, and she had a patch of hair just above her pussy. You blew cold air against it, and she whimpered; but regained herself as she gently guided your hips down onto her face.

Her tongue delivered little kitten licks to your opening, slurping up the juices you were leaking. “Mmm, so good, honey.” She groaned against you as she gripped your ass cheek tenderly. You giggled into her pussy before suckling her clit into your mouth. “Such a pretty little cunt f’me, Nance.” You said, releasing her clit with a pop.

She tried to close her legs but you gently held them open with a soft hand. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” You said as she bucked her hips upward into your face, making you dive back in and start swirling your tongue on her clit. You felt Nancy’s tongue poke at your entrance, before harshly entering, making you let out a gasp.

Your hand moved up to rub her clit from side to side in a painful pace for your poor wrist, but it had her withering beneath you; her tongue sending vibrations through your gripping cunt. You knew you were close, and your other free hand moved to start fingering her profusely while still harshly rubbing at her throbbing clit.

You could feel her gummy walls gripping around your two fingers beautifully, and you groaned as she sucked them back in each time you left. You curled your fingers into her g-spot, and Nancy squirted all over your fingers with a loud moan against your pussy, yet her lapping at your cunt never let up; if anything, her tongue seemingly sped up.

You forgot the world for a second, how to breathe and even where you where as you reached the orgasm you were on the verge of so vigorously. It was intense, the way your body shook as the feeling in your lower stomach snapped. Nancy held your waist, keeping your pussy still against her face as she let your ride out your orgasm.

Both of you were dripping in juices and her bedroom that usually smelled like strawberry pound cake with a hint of lavender now smelled like sweating bodies and hot sex. As the two of you came down from your high, Nancy gently moved you off of her, gently dragging you up to lay with her.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” She whispered softly as she kissed the side of your head. You hummed in agreement, and got up to go to the restroom. Nancy followed behind you, her soft footsteps echoed down the hall. No one was home but you and her.

Her mother was at the local pool, Mike was with his friends doing god knows what (you both definitely knew what), her dad was out gambling and her little sister was with the babysitter till 11. You didn’t have to hide, or walk on eggshells. The setting almost felt domestic as you watched her start the water, adding a little bit of soap for bubbles the both of you enjoy. Her house smelled of natural, almost woody scent, and her bathroom was no exception.

She submerged herself into the water, and gestured for you to join her with a smile, which you did. The water was warm, almost hot; as that was the way Nancy liked her baths. You’ve complained to her about it before, it’s almost a painful kind of hot but she seemed to enjoy it, so you stopped bothering her about it. Today, she was being considerate of the temperature for you, even going as far as to add your favorite scent into the bath; vanilla.

Her chest was pressed against your back, and your head lulled onto her shoulder as she began to gently massage your body with her lavender body wash. The smell was her, as was everything else. Your senses were consumed with nothing but her, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever even think of complaining about it. The way her pink lofa skimmed over your body, lathering you in soap was the least sexual interaction. Purely out of love and admiration for you.

“I love you, Nancy.” You said as you turned your head, coming into contact with her her pretty blue eyes. She smiled. That smile was enough to make your knees weak, head spinning and heart throbbing in your chest. “I love you too, baby.” She said, delivering the softest peck to your lips.

And you did. You loved her, with every fiber of your being.

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