buckysteveloki-me
Fresh/The Gray Man
Mid-30's - Likes: Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, Pedro Pascal, Henry Cavill, and Jenna Ortega - Tags for #buckysteveloki-me - requests are open - submit a post @buckysteveloki-me, @lilacevans, @luvinchris and @autumnrose40 (pic and header) [18+ only on NSFW. Minors interacting on NSFW will be blocked!]
107732 posts
Last active 60 minutes ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
stupendouscolorclamcalzone
Bez tytuĆu
400terahertz
WE'LL GO TOGETHER !!
literally-sarcasm
Hello
mfreeblr
FĂ© đđ»
10-ideas
10-ideas
Text
The First Kiss - Feyd Rautha x Reader
summary: You are visiting Giedi Prime once again. As you've grown older, the pull you feel around the na-baron is stronger, deeper, even if you've never spoken on it. Does he dream of you too? Will you be able to speak of them to him, or will such dreams remain as such forever? We he be able to resist you?
disclaimer: this is a kind of follow up fic to my last feyd x reader. However, this takes place before that time frame. Read the first one here to get a better understanding of how i'm approaching my feyd stories.
words: 1,111
This was the fifth time your family's entourage had visited Giedi Prime; your betrothed's home planet. Each stay got a little more familiar. Perhaps it was the smell of the air. The caress of the blinding black sun above; brilliant and strange; a blot in the heavens. You felt enraptured in it somehow. Like a feeling you could not shake, though in part you blamed the dreams.
You had yet to speak of them with him.
Had he dreamt too? Surely, the na-baron had. You thought often that he must, if not only for the way his eyes seemed to linger on you when you shared a space, no matter how many resided in it. You felt wholly consumed by it. There was a heaviness in his actions, weighted by their directness; when his gaze would meet yours, your pulse would quicken, breaths catch in your chest.
Sometimes, even in silence, in those spaces you shared among the others of your families, you found him lingering close. Felt the heat of him at your back. The hand at his side ever so close to caressing the edge of your hip. He was possessive. Protective.
You two had shared such few words, yet you knew this about him already. Nor could you deny the way it made you feel. A magnetism. Something at the edge that was just out of reach. For now.
"My lady." You startle at the closeness of his words, earrings brushing the curve of your neck as you whip swiftly to look up at Feyd.
You had been thinking of him; lost in your own thoughts. He seemed to read it in your gaze, dark eyes flitting between yours, shadows blanketing the angles of his face. There is a palpable silence as his gaze lowers to your lips. That heat you'd come to know with him. Your mouth waters at the ghost of his kisses in your mind. A seemingly distant future in visions of your marriage.
You vaguely catch the Baron's smug rasp to your father something about spice production, but they have trailed out of the room before you catch the full statement; leading a train of servants in their wake, and the hissing of levitation technology.
When you speak it is but a breathy sound.
"My lord na-baron."
"-Feyd." He quips. low and sudden.
You swallow thickly, a flush beneath your cheeks as you meet his eyes. His given name. You hadn't used it yet, save your own thoughts, and whispers to yourself at night in the safety of your room. It seemed a sacred thing. Something intimate. Something of your yet-to-be-husband's.
The na-baron watches you intently; his body imperceptibly closer, as though seeking to envelope you in his shadow. Predator and prey. You decide to broach the subject. The feeling between you...you must know if it is something of your own mind.
"Feyd Rautha". For some reason the use of his full name from your lips makes him smile. A bizarre sight, being so rare - and this grin looked almost amused. Like he had not been expecting the addendum, humorous. You are quick to try and follow up with your request, cheeks hot.
"I must ask something rather delicate, pertaining to our betrothal."
At that he seems to sober a bit, obviously unsure about whatever it was you were to follow with.
"Do you..." You wish you could know a thing beyond just your own feelings. The twisting of your stomach at the thought he could reject you tearing your insides.
"...Do you dream?"
For a moment, there is that heavy silence again, but then you see the slow curl of his lips, just at the edges. Oh, he seems to say. Followed by a soft and knowing hum.
"Is that what this is about?"
He is coming closer now, stalking you in a few calculated steps with that same smile. Your chest heaves with your breaths as you make way backwards, but then he has an arm about your waist, and mentally you are aware of the heat of him, and the strength. You feel like you've lost some game, or been suddenly caught cheating.
That's when you taste him. His mouth has tilted upon yours, slotted against you like you were meant to be there and you moan softly. Surprised that this moment has come at all - yet wanton for it too. How many nights had you dreamed of him holding you like this? Wondering what it might be like for him to lean in and kiss you?
Feyd swallows your sigh greedily. Readily. The arm he has around you pulls you into him further, and you are pleasantly surprised by how soft his lips are, and how good he tastes. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip.
You angle your head opening for him further, learning as you go. He was so quietly calculated, and yet he kissed you like a man starved, uncaring of who saw or who tried to stop him. Not that any being could. You would bet everything that the na-baron would slice any fool willing to try, to shreds. You'd seen his bloodlust, and his prowess in the arena. Such a feat might even excite him, with you as his prize.
He seemed eager to hold back his need for air - kissing as deeply as he could. Slow. Then fast. As though his control would slip and he has to taste more of you. More. More. His tongue sought yours in a dance, followed by teeth tugging at your lips. You mewled softly at that, eyes so heavy. You felt almost drugged, and after a moment too long, you both parted, breaths breaking the silence.
His hands are at your hips now, holding you steady, but your faces were still just a fraction apart. You felt proud of the way Feyd's eyes looked heavy lidded, or how his lips were tinged pink. It drew your eyes in a way that had him groaning.
"Careful, princess..." The nickname has your cheeks heating again, even after being kissed senseless, and he chuckles low in his chest. The smells of spice and some kind of foreign cologne fill your senses as he nears again, this time bringing his mouth towards your ear. You close your eyes, barely able to keep them open as you angle your head slightly to the side.
"-Or I might have to make more of my dreams a reality."
The admittance, and the low tone of his voice so close has you turning your face and opening for him once more, your breaths colliding as he is quick to seek your tongue with his own.
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
⧠đżđđ đČđđđđ ⧠(poem)
~ đđĄđ đđ«đđđ ~
đ
đđČđ-đđđźđđĄđ đđđ«đ€đšđ§đ§đđ§ đ đ!đđđđđđ«
âą short Poem-Oneshot to my fanfiction Love Bites
âą 18+ đŹđŠđźđ: â«ž đđđ«đ€ đ«đšđŠđđ§đđ â«· ~ đđąđđąđ§đ (âđ°đšđźđ§đđŹ), đđ„đšđšđ, đŹđ€đąđ§ đ„đąđđ€đąđ§đ , đ©đšđ°đđ«, (đĄđąđŠ) đđđđŹđąđ§đ (đČđšđź), đđđđ„đąđ§đ đŹ đđšđ« đđđđĄ đšđđĄđđ«!, đ§đąđ đĄđđŠđđ«đđŹ, đđšđ±đąđ đ«đđ„đđđąđšđ§đŹđĄđąđ©?!
âą words: around 1.5 now
đ
đđČđ đŹđđšđšđ đąđ§ đđ«đšđ§đ đšđ đđĄđ đđšđźđđ„đ đđšđšđ«đŹ đđš đČđšđźđ« đđĄđđŠđđđ«đŹ đđ đđąđ§ đđ§đ đđĄđšđźđ đĄđ, đ°đĄđđ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđšđąđ§đ đĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đđđđźđđ„đ„đČ đ©đ«đđđđČ đđđ§đ đđ«đšđźđŹ. đđźđ đ°đĄđđ đđšđźđ„đ đĄđ đđš? đđ đ°đđŹ đąđ§ đ„đšđŻđ đąđ§ đ đđđ«đ«đąđđ„đČ đšđ„đ-đđđŹđĄđąđšđ§đđ đ°đđČ. đđ đ°đđŹ đđ„đŠđšđŹđ đĄđąđ„đđ«đąđšđźđŹ. đđ, đ đ°đđ«đ«đąđšđ«, đąđŹ đđĄđđŹđąđ§đ đđđđđ« đČđšđź, đĄđąđŹ đđ-đđđ«đšđ§đđŹđŹ. đđąđŹ đđšđŠđ«đđđđŹ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđđđŹđ đĄđąđŠ đđđšđźđ đąđ đđšđ« đđĄđ đ«đđŹđ đšđ đĄđąđŹ đ„đąđđ. đđ« đđđ€đ§đšđ°đ„đđđ đ đĄđąđŠ đđ§đ đđ đŁđđđ„đšđźđŹ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đŹđšđŠđđšđ§đ đ„đąđ€đ đČđšđź đđČ đĄđąđŹ đŹđąđđ.
đŸđđđ đđđ đđđđđ đđ đđđ
đ đđđ đđ,
đșđđđ
đ đ
đđđ đđđđđ,
đŸđđđ đđđđ đđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđđđ,
đ»đđ đđđđ
đđđđđ đđ,
đŸđđđ đđđđđđđ đđđđđđđđ đđ,
đ»đđ đđđđ đđ đđđđ
đđđ
,
đŽđ đđđđđ đđđđđđđ,
đ«đđđđđ đđ đđđ.
đđĄđ đ§đąđ đĄđ đąđŹ đđĄđ đšđ§đ„đČ đđąđŠđ đ°đĄđđ§ đđ„đđđąđŠđąđ« đđđ«đ€đšđ§đ§đđ§ đ„đđđŻđđŹ đČđšđź đđšđđĄ đđ„đšđ§đ. đđšđź đđšđźđ„đđ§'đ đđ±đ©đ„đđąđ§ đąđ, đČđšđź đŹđ©đđ§đ đđĄđ đ§đąđ đĄđđŹ, đŠđšđŹđđ„đČ đąđ§ đŠđđđąđđđđąđšđ§, đđđđđźđŹđ đČđšđź đĄđđđ§'đ đĄđđ đđ§đČ đ«đđŹđđđźđ„ đŹđ„đđđ© đđšđ« đ đ°đĄđąđ„đ. đđźđ«đąđ§đ đđĄđ đđđČ đČđšđź đđĄđđ„đ„đđ§đ đđ đČđšđźđ«đŹđđ„đ, đđĄđđŹđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ«đŹđđ„đ đđš đđ±đĄđđźđŹđđąđšđ§ đđĄđ«đšđźđ đĄ đČđšđźđ« đđ«đđąđ§đąđ§đ . đđ đŹđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đđđ„đ đ„đąđ€đ đđ§ đđđźđŹđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đšđ°đ§ đđšđđČ. đđšđź đ„đšđŻđđ đđĄđ ïżœïżœïżœïżœđšđźđ§đ đđđ«đ€đšđ§đ§đđ§ đąđđšđ„đđđ«đšđźđŹđ„đČ, đ°đšđ«đŹđĄđąđ©đ©đąđ§đ đđ§đ đ©đąđ§đąđ§đ đđšđ« đĄđąđŠ, đ đ«đđđđČ đđŹ đđ„đđđđŹ đđšđ« đđ§đđŠđČ đđ„đšđšđ. đđĄđđąđ« đđ„đđŹđĄ đšđ§ đąđ. đđšđź đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đđ đ đ°đšđ«đđĄđČ đ°đđ«đ«đąđšđ« đ§đđ±đ đđš đĄđąđŠ.
đđźđ đĄđ đšđ§đ„đČ đ„đđđŻđđŹ đČđšđź đđšđđĄ đđ„đšđ§đ đđ đ§đąđ đĄđ, đđ đ„đđđŹđ đđšđ« đ§đšđ°, đđĄđđ§ đĄđ đ°đąđđĄđđ«đđ°đŹ đđ§đ đŠđđ€đđŹ đ©đ„đđ§đŹ. đđ§ đđĄđ đđđ«đ€đ§đđŹđŹ, đđĄđąđŹ đđšđ§đŹđźđŠđąđ§đ đ„đšđ§đ đąđ§đ đđšđŠđđŹ đđš đ«đđŹđ, đ đąđŻđąđ§đ đ°đđČ đđš đđĄđ đąđ§đđđ§đŹđ đđđđ«đđđđąđšđ§ đČđšđź đđđđ„ đđšđ« đ
đđČđ. đđŹ đąđ đ„đšđŻđ? đđ đŹđš, đđĄđđ§ đąđ'đŹ đ đđąđđđđ«đđ§đ đ„đšđŻđ đđš đđĄđ đšđ§đ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đđšđ„đ đđđšđźđ. đ đđąđđđđ«đđ§đ đ„đšđŻđ đđš đđĄđ đšđ§đ đČđšđź'đŻđ đ«đđđ đđđšđźđ đąđ§ đđšđšđ€đŹ đšđ« đŹđđđ§ đđ«đšđŠ đšđđĄđđ«đŹ. đđ§đ đŹđŠđąđ„đ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đđđ„đ đŠđđ§ đ°đđŹ đđ§đšđźđ đĄ đđš đŠđđ€đ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ«đ đđ§đ đĄđđđ đđđđ„ đ„đąđ đĄđ. đđĄđđ§ đđ„đđđąđŠđąđ« đŹđŠđąđ„đđ, đČđšđź đ§đđŻđđ« đ€đ§đđ° đąđ đ©đźđ§đąđŹđĄđŠđđ§đ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđšđ„đ„đšđ° 'đđŹ đ đ«đđ°đđ«đ'. đđĄđ đźđ§đđđ«đđđąđ§đđČ đŠđđđ đČđšđź đŹđąđđ€ đđ§đ đđ«đđłđČ.
đđŹ đŹđšđšđ§ đđŹ đąđ đ đđđŹ đđđ«đ€ đšđźđđŹđąđđ, đ
đđČđ đŹđđđŹ đšđđ, đŹđ§đđđ€đąđ§đ đąđ§đđš đČđšđźđ« đ«đšđšđŠđŹ đ°đĄđđ«đ đČđšđź đđ«đ đđđ đđ«đ„đČ đđ°đđąđđąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ. đđ« đŹđđ§đđŹ đČđšđź đ đŠđđŹđŹđđ đ đđđ„đ„đąđ§đ đČđšđź đ°đĄđđ«đ đĄđ đąđŹ đ°đđąđđąđ§đ đđšđ« đČđšđź. đđĄđ đŹđ©đđ«đ€đ„đ đąđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ đšđ đŁđšđČ đąđŹ đđĄđđ§ đąđŠđ©đšđŹđŹđąđđ„đ đđš đŠđąđŹđŹ đđŹ đŹđšđšđ§ đđŹ đČđšđź đŹđđ đđđđĄ đšđđĄđđ«. đ
đđČđ đ„đšđŻđđŹ đđĄđ đąđ§đđ«đąđ đźđ, đđźđ đĄđ đđ§đŁđšđČđŹ đąđ đđŻđđ§ đŠđšđ«đ đ°đĄđđ§ đđĄđ đŹđŠđąđ„đ đ«đđđźđ«đ§đŹ đđš đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ.
đ° đđđđ đđ đđđ đđđđ đđđđđđđđđđ đđ đđđđđđ,
đ° đđđđ đđđđ đđ đđđ đđ đđđđđ,
đ° đđđđ đđđ đđđ đđđ đđ đđ đ
đđđ
đšđđ
đđđđđđđđđ đ° đđđ đđ đđđđ đđđđđ.
đđđŻđ đČđšđź đđđŹđ đ đđźđ«đŹđ đšđ§ đĄđąđŠ, đČđšđź đđđŻđąđ„? đ
đđČđ đđąđ§đđŹ đ§đš đđ§đŹđ°đđ« đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đ€đąđŹđŹđđŹ đČđšđź đđźđ„đ„ đšđ đ„đšđ§đ đąđ§đ . đđšđźđ« đđšđđĄ đđČđđŹ đŹđ©đđ«đ€đ„đ, đČđšđźđ« đđđ„đąđđđđ đĄđđ§đđŹ đđźđ đđĄđđđ€đąđ„đČ đđ đĄđąđŹ đđ„đđđ€ đđźđ§đąđ. đđ đđđ§'đ đđđ€đ đĄđąđŹ đđČđđŹ đšđđ đČđšđź đ°đĄđđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđ„đšđđĄđđŹ đđđ„đ„. đđšđź đĄđđŻđ đŹđ€đąđ§ đ„đąđ€đ đŹđšđđ đŹđđ§đ, đđŹ đŻđđ„đŻđđđČ đđŹ đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ§đšđ đ§đđđđŹđŹđđ«đąđ„đČ đĄđđŻđ đđ±đ©đđđđđ đšđ§ đđĄđąđŹ đ°đđ«đ„đąđ€đ đ°đšđŠđđ§ đđ đđĄđ đđđ đąđ§đ§đąđ§đ . đđšđźđ« đđ«đđđŹđđŹ đđ«đ đđđđźđđąđđźđ„đ„đČ đŹđĄđđ©đđ, đČđšđźđ« đĄđąđ©đŹ đ«đšđźđ§đđđ, đĄđ đ©đ„đđđđŹ đĄđąđŹ đĄđđ§đđŹ đšđ§ đđĄđđŠ đđ§đ đđ«đđŻđđŹ đđ§đšđđĄđđ« đ€đąđŹđŹ. đđšđź đ€đ§đšđ° đČđšđź đĄđđŻđ đđĄđđ§đ đđ. đđšđźđ« đ©đđšđ©đ„đ đđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđđŠđąđ„đČ đĄđđŻđ đđ°đđ€đđ§đđ đđĄđ đ°đđ«đ«đąđšđ« đąđ§ đČđšđź, đ
đđČđ đĄđđŹ đ€đąđŹđŹđđ đđ°đđ€đ đđĄđ đŠđźđ«đđđ«đšđźđŹ đđ§đ đđ„đšđšđđđĄđąđ«đŹđđČ đ°đšđŠđđ§ đąđ§ đČđšđź.
đđ đ°đĄđąđŹđ©đđ«đŹ đŹđ°đđđ đ°đšđ«đđŹ đąđ§đđš đČđšđźđ« đđđ«đŹ, đ°đĄđąđđĄ đ°đšđźđ„đ đŹđźđ«đđ„đČ đĄđđ©đ©đđ§ đąđ§ đđĄđ đđźđđźđ«đ. đđšđ° đČđšđź đđ°đš, đđŹ đđđ«đšđ§đđŹđŹ đđ§đ đđđ«đšđ§, đ°đšđźđ„đ đŹđźđđŁđźđ đđđ đđ„đ„ đšđđĄđđ«đŹ, đŹđđąđłđ đ©đšđ°đđ« đđ§đ đŠđđ€đ đđŻđđ«đČđšđ§đ đđ«đđŠđđ„đ đąđ§ đđđđ« đđđđšđ«đ đČđšđź. đđšđ° đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đŹđźđđŁđźđ đđđ đđ„đ„ đšđđĄđđ« đ„đąđŻđąđ§đ đđđąđ§đ đŹ đ°đĄđš đ°đšđźđ„đ đđđ«đ đđš đŹđđđ§đ đąđ§ đČđšđźđ« đ°đđČ. đđšđ° đđĄđđČ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđđ đđšđ« đŠđđ«đđČ, đđźđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đŹđ„đąđ đđĄđđąđ« đđĄđ«đšđđđŹ, đđš đŹđąđ„đđ§đđ đđĄđđŠ. đđĄđđČ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ„đđđ đđš đđđđđĄ đŠđđ«đđąđ„đđŹđŹđ„đČ đąđ§ đđ«đšđ§đ đšđ đČđšđź đđšđđĄ. đđĄđđ«đ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ đ§đš đŠđđ«đđČ - đ§đđŻđđ«!
đŸđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđ đđđđđ đđđ đđđđ đđđđ,
đ»đđ đđđđ đđđđ,
đŸđđđ đđđđ đđđđđ đđđđđđđđđđđ đđ,
đđđ đđđđ đđđđđđđđđ,
đ»đđđ đđđ đđđđ đđ đđđ đđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđđđđ,
đ»đđ đđđđđđđ đđđ
đđ,
đŸđ đđđđ đđ,
đ°đ đđđđ đđ đđđđ.
đđšđź đ°đ«đąđđĄđ đđđ§đđđđĄ đĄđąđŠ. đđ đ©đ„đđČđŹ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ đ„đąđ€đ đđ§ đąđ§đŹđđ«đźđŠđđ§đ. đ đ đđ§đđ„đ đđąđđ đĄđđ«đ, đ đ„đąđ đĄđ đŹđđ«đđđđĄ đđĄđđ«đ. đđ§đ đđ§đšđđĄđđ« đĄđđ«đđđ« đ„đšđŻđ đđąđđ đĄđđ«đ đđ đđąđ§. đđąđŹ đđšđ§đ đźđ đŹđ„đąđđđŹ đšđŻđđ« đČđšđźđ« đąđ«đ«đąđđđđđ đđ§đ đđ„đđđđąđ§đ đŹđ€đąđ§. đ đđđđźđđąđđźđ„, đ„đšđ§đ đąđ§đ đŹđšđźđ§đ đđ«đšđŠ đČđšđź đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đĄđąđđŹ đđĄđ đ«đąđ đĄđ đ§đšđđ⊠đđ đ€đ§đšđ°đŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đđ«đ đŁđźđŹđ đđŹ đđđđąđđđđ đđš đĄđąđŠ đđŹ đđ„đđđąđŠđąđ«. đđźđ đąđ§ đ đđšđŠđ©đ„đđđđ„đČ đđąđđđđ«đđ§đ đ°đđČ. đđ đąđŹ đąđ§đŹđąđđ đČđšđź, đđźđ đĄđ đđšđđŹđ§'đ đŁđźđŹđ đ©đđ§đđđ«đđđ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ. đđ đĄđšđ„đđŹ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ«đ đąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đĄđđ§đđŹ đđšđš, đČđšđź đ€đ§đšđ° đđĄđđ (đ§đšđ°). đđšđź đđ„đąđ§đ đđš đđđđĄ đšđđĄđđ« đ„đąđ€đ đČđšđź đđšđđĄ đ°đđ«đ đđ«đšđ°đ§đąđ§đ , đČđšđźđ« đŠđšđŻđđŠđđ§đđŹ đđđđšđŠđąđ§đ đ đ„đąđđđ„đ đđđŹđđđ« đđŹ đđĄđ đ©đđŹđŹđąđšđ§ đđđ€đđŹ đĄđšđ„đ đšđ đČđšđź. đđšđź đđđ đąđ§ đđš đđšđ«đ đđ đđĄđ đĄđźđŠđąđ„đąđđđąđšđ§ đđ§đ đŻđąđšđ„đđ§đđ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đđšđ§đ đđš đČđšđź, đđđđđźđŹđ đšđ đĄđąđŠ.
đ
đđČđ đ°đąđŹđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđąđ«đŹđ đ€đąđŹđŹ, đČđšđźđ« đđąđ«đŹđ đąđ§đđąđŠđđđ đđšđźđđĄ, đČđšđźđ« đđąđ«đŹđ đđąđŠđ đĄđđŻđąđ§đ đŹđđ±. đđźđ đąđ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đ„đąđ€đ đđĄđđ - đŹđđ«đąđđđ„đČ đŹđ©đđđ€đąđ§đ . đđ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đđĄđ đđąđ«đŹđ đđš đđšđźđđĄ đČđšđź đ đđ§đđ„đČ, đ„đąđ€đ đ©đšđ«đđđ„đđąđ§. đđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đđąđ«đŹđ đđš đđšđźđđĄ đČđšđź đ°đąđđĄ đ©đźđ«đ đđđđ„đąđ§đ đŹ. đđšđźđđĄđđŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đĄđđŻđ đđĄđšđźđ đĄđ đ©đšđŹđŹđąđđ„đ đđšđ« đ đđđ«đ€đšđ§đ§đđ§. đđ§đđđ« đ§đš đđąđ«đđźđŠđŹđđđ§đđđŹ. đđźđ đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđ«đ đđ„đŹđš đ§đąđ đĄđđŹ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đđąđ đąđ§đđš đČđšđźđ« đđ„đđŹđĄ đŹđš đĄđđ«đ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đđ„đđ đŹđđ«đšđ§đ đ„đČ, đ§đšđ đŁđźđŹđ đ đđđ° đ©đđđ«đ„đŹ-đđšđđŹ, đ°đĄđąđđĄ đđđŠđ đšđźđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đ°đšđźđ§đ (đ„đąđ€đ đ§đšđ°). đđ đđąđ đČđšđź đĄđđ«đ, đđš đđđŹđđ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ°đđđ đđđđ© đ«đđ đđ„đšđšđ, đđš đŠđđ«đ€ đČđšđź đ°đąđđĄ đŹđđđ«đŹ. đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđ«đ đđđČđŹ đ°đĄđđ§ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ€đąđ§ đ„đšđšđ€đđ đđđ đđ§đ đđĄđ đ°đšđźđ§đđŹ đĄđ đ„đđđ đđđĄđąđ§đ, đŹđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đđźđ«đ§đđ đđ§đ đĄđźđ«đ. đđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đđšđ«đđąđ đĄđąđŠ đđš đŹđ„đđđ© đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź đđšđ« đ đ°đĄđąđ„đ, đđźđ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đđšđ«đđąđ đĄđąđŠ đđš đđąđđ đČđšđź. đđźđ đČđšđź đ°đđ„đđšđŠđđ đąđ. đđ đ°đđŹ đĄđąđŹ đ°đđČ đšđ đđ±đ©đ«đđŹđŹđąđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đđđđ„đąđ§đ đŹ đđšđ« đČđšđź. đđąđŹ đ„đąđ©đŹ đĄđđ đ§đđŻđđ« đ„đđđ đđ§ âđ đ„đšđŻđ đČđšđź.â đđźđ đ§đđąđđĄđđ« đĄđđ đČđšđźđ«đŹ. đđšđź đĄđđ đđ„đŹđš đđąđđđđ§ đĄđąđŠ, đ„đđŹđŹ đšđđđđ§ đđĄđđ§ đĄđ đĄđđ. đđźđ đšđ§đđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đČđšđźđ« đđđđđĄ đąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđ„đđŹđĄ, đđĄđ đđđ«đ€đšđ§đ§đđ§ đ€đ§đđ° đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đđ§'đ đđ đđđ„đ đđš đ đđ đČđšđź đšđđ đŹđš đđđŹđąđ„đČ. đđšđźđ« đđąđđđŹ đ°đđ«đ đ°đđČ đŠđšđ«đ đđđđ©đđ« đđĄđđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđ§đ đĄđđ đ„đđđ đąđŠđŠđđđąđđđđ„đČ đ«đđđšđ đ§đąđłđđđ„đ, đ§đšđ đđ„đ°đđČđŹ đ°đđ„đ„ đĄđđđ„đđ, đŹđđđ«đŹ. đđźđ đĄđ đŹđĄđšđ°đđ đđĄđđŠ, đ°đšđ«đ đđĄđđŠ đ©đ«đšđźđđ„đČ đšđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđšđđČ. đđ đđšđšđŹđđđ đĄđąđŹ (đđ«đźđđ„) đđ đš đđ§đšđ«đŠđšđźđŹđ„đČ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đŹđźđđĄ đ đđđđźđđąđđźđ„ đ°đšđŠđđ§ đđ đĄđąđŹ đŹđąđđ, đđĄđ đđźđđźđ«đ đđđ«đšđ§đđŹđŹ.
đđ§đ đ§đšđđĄđąđ§đ đĄđđ đđĄđïżœïżœïżœïżœđ đđ. đđ„đŹđš đđšđ§đąđ đĄđ, đĄđąđŹ đđČđđŹ, đ°đĄđąđđĄ đ°đđ«đ đđđđźđđ„đ„đČ đŹđš đđŻđąđ„, đ„đđČđđ đ đđ§đđ„đČ đšđ§ đČđšđź. đđđđđĄđđ đČđšđź đđ«đšđŠ đđšđ© đđš đđšđđđšđŠ, đ„đąđ€đ đ đ©đ«đđđđđšđ«đČ đđđ. đđšđ đđš đŹđđ đČđšđźđ« đ§đđ€đđ đłđšđ§đđŹ. đđźđ đđš đŹđđ, đđš đźđ§đđđ«đŹđđđ§đ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đđĄđđ«đ đ§đšđ° - đĄđđ«đ đ°đąđđĄ đĄđąđŠ. đđ đđąđđ§'đ đ„đđđŻđ đČđšđź đ„đČđąđ§đ đđĄđđ«đ đ„đąđ€đ đđąđ«đ đ°đĄđđ§ đČđšđź đđšđđĄ đđ„đąđŠđđ±đđ. đđšđ« đđąđ đĄđ đ đđ đźđ© đđ§đ đ„đđđŻđ đ°đąđđĄđšđźđ đ đ°đšđ«đ. đđĄđ đ°đđČ đČđšđź đĄđđ đ€đ§đšđ°đ§ đąđ đđđđšđ«đ đĄđąđŠ. đđš, đĄđ đ„đđ đĄđąđŠđŹđđ„đ đđđ„đ„ đšđ§đđš đđĄđ đđ«đđ đŹđąđđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đđđ, đźđŹđźđđ„đ„đČ đđđ€đąđ§đ đ đđđ° đđđđ© đđ«đđđđĄđŹ đđđđšđ«đ đ©đ«đđŹđŹđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ đšđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđ đđąđ§. đđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đĄđ đđšđ§đđąđ§đźđđ đđš đ€đąđŹđŹ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ€đąđ§, đŹđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đĄđ đ©đ«đđŹđŹđđ đČđšđź đŹđš đđąđ đĄđđ„đČ đđ đđąđ§đŹđ đĄđąđŠ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đ°đšđ«đ«đąđđ đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ«đđđ€ đČđšđźđ« đđšđ§đđŹ, đŹđšđŠđ đ«đąđđŹ. đđ đđ«đđđđĄđđ đąđ§ đČđšđźđ« đŹđđđ§đ. đđ„đ°đđČđŹ đ đĄđąđ§đ đšđ đ©đđ«đđźđŠđ đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ€đąđ§. đđđ«đČ đ đđ§đđ„đ, đŹđźđđĄ đ đ„đšđŻđđ„đČ đŹđđđ§đ đđĄđđ đ
đđČđ đđšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đđđŹđđ«đąđđ. đđšđŹđ đšđ đđĄđ đđąđŠđ đąđ đđąđđ§'đ đŹđđšđ© đđ đšđ§đ đ«đšđźđ§đ. đ
đđČđ đđ„đ°đđČđŹ đŠđđđ đđĄđąđŹ đđđ©đđ§đđđ§đ đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đ„đźđŹđ, đđąđđ§'đ đđšđ«đđ đČđšđź đđš đđ§đČđđĄđąđ§đ . đïżœïżœïżœïżœđđđźđŹđ đĄđ đđąđđ§'đ đ°đđ§đ đđš đ„đšđŹđ đČđšđź. đđšđ đđđđđźđŹđ đšđ đđĄđąđŹ.
đđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đĄđ đ«đđđđŹ đšđđ đČđšđź, đŹđđđšđ§đđŹ đđđđšđ«đ đČđšđźđ« đđ„đąđŠđđ±. đđš đđđđŹđ đČđšđź. đđ§đ đĄđ đ„đšđŻđđ đČđšđźđ« đŹđđđ«đđ„đđ, đđĄđđ§ đđ§đ đ«đČ đđ±đ©đ«đđŹđŹđąđšđ§. đđ đ„đđźđ đĄđđ đȘđźđąđđđ„đČ, đĄđšđđ«đŹđđ„đČ, đđšđŠđ©đ„đđđđ„đČ đ«đđ°. đđ đ°đđŹ đĄđđŻđąđ§đ đđšđš đŠđźđđĄ đđźđ§ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź. đđźđ đąđ đ°đđŹ đąđ§ đđĄđšđŹđ đŠđšđŠđđ§đđŹ đđĄđđ đĄđ đ€đ§đđ° đĄđšđ° đŠđźđđĄ đČđšđź đđđšđ«đđ đĄđąđŠ. âđđšđ° đđđ«đ đČđšđź, đ
đđČđ-đđđźđđĄđ!âđđ đŹđšđŠđ đ©đšđąđ§đ, đČđšđź đŠđđ§đđ đđ đđš đŹđđČ đąđ. đđ đđąđđ§'đ đđĄđđ§đ đ đĄđąđŹ đ đšđšđ đŠđšđšđ, đąđ đšđ§đ„đČ đŠđđđ đąđ đđđđđđ«. đđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ, đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ„đąđ đĄđđ„đČ đŹđ„đđ© đČđšđźđ« đ°đđ đ„đđđąđ đđš đĄđđąđ đĄđđđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđđđ„đąđ§đ đšđ đČđšđźđ« 'đ§đđđ', đđąđđąđ§đ đđ§đ đ„đąđđ€đąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ đđ đđąđ§. đđźđ đ§đšđ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđđđ đđ«đđ. đđđ€đąđ§đ đąđ đđš đđĄđ đŠđđ±đąđŠđźđŠ đ„đđŻđđ„. đđšđźđ« đŹđđđ«đđ„đđ đ đ«đšđđ§, đŠđąđ±đđ đ°đąđđĄ đđ§ đđ§đ đ«đČ đ đ«đšđ°đ„, đ°đđŹ đŠđźđŹđąđ đđš đĄđąđŹ đđđ«đŹ. đđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đĄđ đ„đđŹđđŹ đ đđđ° đŠđąđ§đźđđđŹ, đđźđ đŹđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đšđ§đ„đČ đ đđđ° đŹđđđšđ§đđŹ. đđ đ°đđŹ đ©đđąđ§đđźđ„đ„đČ đđ«đšđźđŹđđ đđČ đĄđšđ° đŠđźđđĄ đČđšđź đ°đđ§đđđ đđ§đ đđđšđ«đđ đĄđąđŠ. đđ§đđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđđ€đđ§ đąđ đđš đđĄđ đđ±đđ«đđŠđ đđ§đ đČđšđź đĄđđ đŠđđ§đđ đđ đđš đ©đźđŹđĄ đĄđąđŠ đšđ§đđš đđĄđ đŠđđđđ«đđŹđŹ. đđšđź đŹđđ đšđ§ đđšđ© đšđ đĄđąđŠ, đ«đźđđđąđ§đ đđ đđąđ§đŹđ đĄđąđŠ đđšđ« đ đđđ° đŹđđđšđ§đđŹ, đđđđ€ đđ§đ đđšđ«đđĄ. đđšđźđ« đ„đđđąđ đĄđđ đđ§đđąđ«đđ„đđ đ©đđ«đ đšđ đĄđąđŹ đŠđđŠđđđ«. đđ đĄđđ đđ§đŁđšđČđđ đđĄđ đĄđđ„đ„ đšđźđ đšđ đąđ, đđźđ đ
đđČđ đ©đ«đđđđ«đ«đđ đđš đđ đšđ§ đđšđ©. đđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đđđŹđ đĄđ đĄđđ đ©đźđŹđĄđđ đČđšđź đđđđ€ đšđ§đđš đČđšđźđ« đŹđšđđ đ©đąđ„đ„đšđ°đŹ, đđš đ đąđŻđ đČđšđź đ°đĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ§đđđ. đđąđŠ.
đșđđđđ đđđ đđđđđ
, đđđ đđđđđ
đđ đđ,
đŻđđđ
đđ đđđđđ,
đșđđđđ đđđ đđđđđ
, đđđ đđđđđ
đđ đđ.
đŻđđđ đđ,
đ»đđ đđđđđ đđđ đđđđđđđ
đ°đ đđđ đđđ
đ đđđđđđ đđ đđđ đđđ
đđđ đđđ đđđ
đđ
đŒđđđđ đđđ đđđđđ đđđđđ.
đđĄđ đđąđŠ đŠđšđšđ§đ„đąđ đĄđ đąđ„đ„đźđŠđąđ§đđđđŹ đČđšđźđ« đđĄđđŠđđđ«đŹ đ°đąđđĄ đ đŹđĄđąđŠđŠđđ«đąđ§đ đ đ„đšđ°. đđšđź đŹđđ đ©đđ«đđŹ đšđ đĄđąđŹ đŠđźđŹđđ„đđŹ đ„đąđ đĄđđąđ§đ đźđ©, đđŹ đĄđ đŠđšđŻđđŹ. đđąđŹ đĄđđ§đ đđšđźđđĄđđŹ đČđšđźđ« đđđ„đąđđđđ đŹđ€đąđ§, đŹđš đđđŠđąđ„đąđđ« đđ§đ đČđđ đŹđš đđšđ«đđąđ đ§. đđđ«đšđ€đąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđđđ€, đČđšđźđ« đđđđ, đČđšđźđ« đĂ©đđšđ„đ„đđĂ©. đđšđź đ„đšđšđ€ đđ đđđđĄ đšđđĄđđ« đąđ§ đŹđąđ„đđ§đđ. đđ đ°đđŹ đđšđŠđ©đ„đđđđ„đČ đŹđąđ„đđ§đ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đČđšđź. đ
đđČđ đ đ«đąđ§đŹ, đĄđ đ€đ§đšđ°đŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ«đđ„đČ đŹđđđ§đ đ đđĄđđ§đđ đđ đđąđ§đŹđ đČđšđźđ« đđŻđđ«-đąđ§đđ«đđđŹđąđ§đ đđąđ«đđđ§đđŹđŹ. đđ§đ đđ„đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ đđ«đ đđ„đŠđšđŹđ đđ„đšđŹđđ, đĄđ đđđ§ đŹđđąđ„đ„ đŹđđ đđĄđ đŹđ©đđ«đ€đ„đ đąđ§ đđĄđđŠ. đđšđ«đđ„đđŹđŹđ„đČ, đĄđ đ©đźđ„đ„đŹ đČđšđź đđš đĄđąđŹ đđĄđđŹđ đđ§đ đ°đ«đđ©đŹ đđ§ đđ«đŠ đđąđ đĄđđ„đČ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ. đđĄđđ«đ đđ«đ đŠđšđŠđđ§đđŹ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đđđđ„đŹ đĄđ đĄđđŹ đđš đ©đ«đšđđđđ đČđšđź. đđĄđđČ đđ«đ đ«đđ«đ, đđźđ đđĄđđČ đđ«đ đđĄđđ«đ. đđ đ€đ§đšđ°đŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đđ«đ đ đ°đđ«đ«đąđšđ« đđ§đ đĄđđŻđ đ„đđ đđ„đšđšđ đđ„đšđ° đŹđđŻđđ«đđ„ đđąđŠđđŹ, đ§đšđ đšđ§đ„đČ đĄđđ«đ đšđ§ đđąđđđą đđ«đąđŠđ. đđźđ đđĄđđ«đ đŹđđđŠđŹ đđš đđ đđ§ đąđ§đŹđđąđ§đđ đđđđ© đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đĄđąđŠ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđŹ đ§đđŻđđ« đđđ„đ đđđđšđ«đ đČđšđź. đđš đ§đš đšđ§đ đąđ§ đ©đđ«đđąđđźđ„đđ«.
đđ đĄđđŹ đ§đąđ đĄđđŠđđ«đđŹ. đđ§ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đĄđąđŹ đźđ§đđ„đ đŹđđđđ„đŹ đČđšđź đđ«đšđŠ đĄđąđŠ, đđšđ«đ đČđšđź đđ«đšđŠ đĄđąđŹ đŹđđ«đšđ§đ đĄđđ§đđŹ. đđ đđąđđ§'đ đ€đ§đšđ° đ°đĄđđ đĄđđ©đ©đđ§đđ đđš đČđšđź đđĄđđ§. đđđđđ« đđĄđđ, đđŻđđ«đČđđĄđąđ§đ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đ°đđ§đ đđ„đđđ€. đ đđđ«đ€đ§đđŹđŹ đĄđ đđąđđ§'đ đ„đąđ€đ. đđ đŠđđđ đĄđąđŠ đđđđ„ đ©đšđ°đđ«đ„đđŹđŹ đđ§đ đ°đđđ€.
đđąđŹ đ đ«đąđ© đšđ§ đČđšđź đđđđšđŠđđŹ đŹđđ«đšđ§đ đđ«, đđąđ đĄđđđ§đŹ. đđš, đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đđ§'đ đ„đđ đČđšđź đ đš. đđ đ°đđŹ đđšđš đ„đđđ đđšđ« đđĄđđ.
(đđ§đ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đ€đ§đđ° đČđšđź đĄđđ đđđ„đ„đđ§ đđŹđ„đđđ©, đĄđ đđ„đšđŹđđ đĄđąđŹ đđČđđŹ đđšđš.)
đđ đ„đđđŻđđŹ đđđđšđ«đ đđĄđ đŠđšđ«đ§đąđ§đ đđđ°đ§đŹ. đđšđŠđđđąđŠđđŹ đČđšđź đđšđłđ, đ°đđđđĄđąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đđ«đšđŠ đĄđđ„đ-đđ„đšđŹđđ đđČđđŹ, đđąđ«đđ, đŹđđđđ đđ§đ đ„đđđĄđđ«đ đąđ đđ«đšđŠ đ„đšđŻđđŠđđ€đąđ§đ . đđšđź đŹđŠđąđ„đ, đŹđ§đźđ đ đ„đ đđ đđąđ§đŹđ đĄđąđŹ đ§đđ€đđ đđđđ€. đ đĄđđ§đ đđđ«đđŹđŹđđŹ đđĄđ đđđđ€ đšđ đĄđąđŹ đ§đđđ€, đđšđ°đ§ đĄđąđŹ đŹđ©đąđ§đ. đđšđźđ« đ„đąđ©đŹ đđšđźđđĄ đĄđąđŹ đŹđĄđšđźđ„đđđ« đŠđźđŹđđ„đđŹ. đđšđźđ« đŻđšđąđđ đąđŹ đȘđźđąđđ, đŁđźđŹđ đ đ°đĄđąđŹđ©đđ«.
âđđšđ§'đ đ đš đČđđ, đŠđČ đđđ«đšđ§.â
I wrote this in the night. Maybe at 4 or 5 am. My soul is deadâŠ
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stolen Angel - Part 6
Demon!Jake Seresin x reader
Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out heâs a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.
Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. Iâm sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, itâs fine. I wrote that one too. In this part specifically: smutty-ish stuff (18+), cursing, angst
Words: 2305
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Youâre drunk, you think. Head is too foggy to be explained by anything else. Your brain struggles to pin down a well-developed thought. Good. Youâre not here for well-developed thoughts. You donât want a well-developed thought. What you want is to feel. And right now, you feel blissfully intoxicated.Â
When you spun around and kissed him, he wasnât expecting it. Despite it being his bright idea, it took him a few seconds to catch up. Your arms were already wrapped around his neck, your lips and teeth trying to pry some playfulness out of him with little nibbles by the time it registered in his head that you had caved for him. Then he snapped fully alert, like heâd been locked in a cage and you turned the key to set him free.Â
Heâd instantly removed your arms from his neck and placed your hands at his waist, then he cupped your cheeks in rough palms and gave you what you wanted; what you know heâs been wanting to give you for weeks.
And you continue to let him give it to you. You give him complete control and allow him to take advantage because somehow he knows what you like. He did then, and he does now.Â
You like a paced rhythm of lips; needy, eager, but lacking the fumbling of an inexperienced or equally mind-numb partner.Â
You like hands that tangle in your hair before they carve a path down to your hips.Â
You like fingers skimming your midriff and the tingles that come from soft touching morphing into possessive grabbing.Â
You like fingerprints bruised into your skin from being held still as a jeans-constrained cock grinds against your core.
You like the melody of his moans and how he doesnât try to hide them from you. Like he needs you to know exactly how you affect him so you can understand the power you possess.Â
You like the taste of his tongue, and the way he smells. He smells like the forest in the moonlight, and the rays of the sun in springtime, but also like the sea when its waves are enraged by wild winds. He smells like the earth. He smells human. He tastes human. He sounds human.Â
His human fingers go to your neck, applying light pressure until you whimper against his lips. He grins into the kiss. Different fingers on a different hand fiddle with the button of your jeans, popping it open and dragging down the zipper.Â
Youâre already warm, but itâs hotter when his hand slips behind the thin band of your underwear. That heat becomes almost unbearable as fingers near your clit and brush over the bundle of nerves. And when two digits finally nestle themselves within your folds, you burst into a ball of flame.
A ball of flame that forces your eyes to shoot open and the loose screws in your brain to retighten before they have a chance to fall out completely. Your eyes snap shut again because it feels so fucking good when his middle finger teases your entrance. Your walls are hungry for something to clamp down around. No, not somethingâhim. Youâre hungry for him, and your body is not going to forgive you for the betrayal, but this isâŠwrong. All wrong. You have to stop. What youâre doing changes nothing. He is not who you want him to be. You are not who you were. And this place is not what you once knew, no matter the memories you attempt to revive from its history.Â
Tears begin to gather and squeeze through your sealed eyelids. He doesnât notice them as his lips break from yours to press a kiss to your cheek and then your jaw before they latch onto your neck. With your gasp, your hands fist the fabric of his t-shirt. A fingertip is easing inside of you and your body lurches toward him. Deeper. More. You want it. So bad.
Wait, no! Your brow furrows.Â
No, you donât want it!Â
Think of what he has done to you. Think of what he has stolen. Think of how he shows no shame.
âNo!â you snap as you jerk your head from his and shove him off of you. Lips, fingers, taste, scentâgone, dousing you in a piercing chill.Â
Jade-toned eyes are full of fear and confusion as he takes a step near you. âAngelââ
âNo!â you repeat, your finger pointed at him. You shake your head, trying to breathe as you back out of the kitchen and into the living room.Â
âWhat did I do?â
âNo!â you say once more. Harsher, louder, your tears falling harder. âYou ruin things!â
His breath is heavy. Chest heaving. âWhat?â
âYou killed my plant!â you sob, âAnd the cat is gone!â
âYou didn't have a cat,â he says.
âYou take!â you tell him. âThatâs all you doâyou take! I did everything you wanted so I could come home and feel like me for just one goddamn second, but itâs not home anymore because you took it from me! You ruined it! You tainted it!â you shout. âYou tainted me!â
The tears are in such abundance they merge together on their descent to your jaw. Your fingers tremble as you lower to the ground, pull your knees to your chest, and wrap your arms around them.Â
Jake carefully closes the distance youâd been keeping and crouches in front of you. With his hands on your cheeks, he tilts your face up to his. Eyes flick back and forth between yours. âYou are not tainted,â he says.Â
Smacking his hands away, you rest your chin on your knees. âThereâs nothing left,â you mutter. âI have nothing.â
âYou have me,â he pleads.Â
âI donât want you!
Jake freezes in the aftermath of your scream. Then he glances down like heâs looking for the knife you just plunged into his heart. Itâs not there, of course. If anyone is guilty of harming anything in this apartment, itâs him.Â
He swallows and leans back into a seated position across from you. His hand runs through his hair and down his face, and then he waits. He sits there quietly, watches you as you refuse to look at him, and waits.Â
He waits for minutes? Hours? You donât know; you canât remember how much time you had left before you kissed him. He waits until he softly says, âTimeâs up, Angel.â
He waits some more as if he expects you to respond. When you donât, he stands.Â
âWe have to go,â he says.Â
âThen go,â you mumble.
Jake sighs and holds his hand out to you. âDonât do this.â
âIâm not doing anything,â you say, continuing to stare ahead at the wall. âI didnât do anything. I never did anything.â
âAngel, you promised youâd follow the rules.â
Black streaks float by your head, carried on the wind coming through the open window. In your peripheral vision, you see the feathers find home on Jakeâs back until heâs once again the monster who stole you in all of his grandness.
âYou need to call your wings,â he tells you. âDo what I taught you earlier, just imagine the opposite.â
You shake your head.Â
Jake blows a breath out through his nose. âAngel, please do what Iâm telling you. You know I canât leave you here.â
âYou wouldnât even if you could.â
Jake bends at the waist. He puts his index finger under your chin and lifts so your eyes are stuck on his. âYouâre right, I wouldnât. So let's not play this game. Call your wings.â
âNo,â you return through clenched teeth. Â
Those red tendrils slither into his irises, but youâre not deterred this time. He doesnât scare you anymore. Not even when he grabs your wrist, pulls you to your feet, and throws you over his shoulder like youâre a sack of grain. His feathers brush across your face as your head lands between the open spaces in his t-shirt that accommodate his wings.Â
Your fist slams into one of the appendages and he grunts, but it doesnât stop him from heading straight for your bedroom. When he kicks the door open, you pinch your eyelids tight. You donât want to see the bedsheets with your and his dried sweat or the bra that when removed from your body sprouted gooseflesh up and down your arms. You donât want to be reminded of how he drank in your breasts with his eyes and rubbed his thumbs over your nipples and sucked one into his mouth.Â
Jake leans down and lifts the window that overlooks the street. You curse its size, big enough for two bodies to slip through.Â
âPut me down,â you shriek, hitting his other wing this time.Â
You can feel when he ducks under the sill, you can hear the rustle of feathers when wings stretch wide, then with one strong flap, youâre back in the wind tunnel that stole your breath.Â
â
The moment he touches down, you begin to wiggle in his arms, freeing yourself only to fall directly on your ass in the grass and dirt.
âGet up,â Jake commands. You grumble and rise to your feet, but solely for the sake of removing yourself from his presence. Youâve had enough. Enough of him and of this night. As you head toward The Tower, he says, âBring your wings back.â
He gives you a few seconds, but when you donât stop on your path, a whooshing sound arises from behind you before he suddenly drops out of the sky, landing right in front of you and making you jump.Â
âListen to me,â he growls.Â
Moving in close, you put your face just a few inches from his. âNo.â
That fear returns in his eyesâa briefer flash than you saw earlier. Itâs squashed under his innate desire to demand things from you. âYou donât tell me no. Not with this,â he says. âIf you donât bring them back, your feathers will abandon you where you left them.â
âPerfect,â you say, stepping around him.Â
Twenty feet from the door. Nineteen. Eighteen. Youâre almost there.
âAnd youâll have to grow new ones,â he calls after you.Â
You pause in your tracks, heartbeat catching in your chest.
âBeing without wings can only be temporary. You abandon the old ones, new ones will take their place. No one can stop it.â With his hands on your upper arms, he spins you around. âDo you want to go through that again?â
Immobile; skin shredding; blood running down your spine and soaking the bed; lava coursing through your veins, limbs, organs. Last time you bit your tongue so hard you were surprised your teeth didnât pierce a hole.
His palms move, grazing up and over your shoulders, dipping into the curves of your neck to frame your face. Thumbs stroke your cheeks. His forehead rests against yours.Â
âDonât make me watch you suffer twice, Angel,â he whispers, begs. âPlease.â
You could laugh. He wouldnât have had to watch you suffer at all if he had left you where you belonged. But even so, you relent, closing your eyes to imagine your wings reforming with the addition of each individual feather until you sense a strange internal response to your call. You donât do it for him. You do it for you, refusing to relive that trauma. You wonder if Jake understands the difference.
âDid you do it?â he asks, lifting his head. You nod, then he nods, exhaling shakily. âItâll take longer since we left the feathers there, so make sure to keep that image somewhere in your mind to guide them to you. You might as well rest in the meantime. When your wings are back you can sleep.â
Not waiting to see if he is finished telling you what to do, you step out of his hold, turn on your heel, and walk to the door. Your hand is pressed against the large panel, ready to push it open so you can be free of him when you hear his voiceâŠagain.
âAngel.â
You groan, digging your fingernails into the wood before twisting around. Youâre going to get fucking whiplash. What, you think as you glare at him. What else could there possibly be?
Jake swallows, then the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips.Â
âI don't regret bringing you here,â he starts. âNot for a second. And I never will. You have no idea how long I wished to have you with me.
âAnd regardless of what you believe, Iâm not ignorant of the sacrifices. I once gave up the life I had as well,â he says, and your brows knit. âHowever, this can be home, if you accept it. I want to give you everything, but you have to let me.â
You despise the itty bitty part of you that looks at his offer the way a child looks at a forbidden lollipop, their eyes blown wide, licking their lips before they even have their grubby paws on the damn stick. You cannot listen to that part. To listen would be to lose more of you, and how much more do you have available to lose? Youâve never dissected yourself to figure out how many fragments there are. But something was sucked out of your soul tonight. It left a void that heâs foolish to think he can fill.Â
âI donât have to let you do anything to me, Jake,â you tell him.
Jake shakes his head. âThatâs not what I meant.â
âOf course it is.â
Leaving him behind, you turn and enter The Towerâa place you wouldâve bet your life youâd never be happy to seeâand you donât look back. Not even when a softly muttered âfuckâ just barely reaches your ear before the door completely separates you and Jake from one another.
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Short love: Chp 15
Summary: The is about widowed father Bradley Bradshaw who enlists his brother-in-law Jake Seresin and childhood best friend Robert Floyd to help raise his three daughters, eldest Donna Jo Margaret (D.J for short), middle child Stephanie and youngest Michelle in his San Diego home.Â
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Warning: Fluff, flirting
In the hotel room, the atmosphere was charged with excitement and anticipation. Jake stood before the mirror, his reflection clad in a sleek tuxedo, his hands slightly trembling with nerves. Bob and Bradley, ever the supportive comrades, bustled around him, adjusting his tie and straightening his lapels with expert precision.
"You're looking sharp, Jake," Bradley remarked, a proud smile gracing his features as he stepped back to admire their handiwork.
Bob nodded enthusiastically, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Yeah, you clean up pretty good, buddy," he teased, nudging Jake playfully.
Jake couldn't help but chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at his friends' lighthearted banter. "Thanks, guys," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Bradley clapped him on the back, his expression turning serious for a moment. "You're going to do great, Jake," he said, his tone sincere. "Y/n is lucky to have you."
Bob nodded in agreement, his gaze softening with genuine affection. "Yeah, she's a lucky lady," he added, a hint of emotion creeping into his voice.
As the three men shared a moment of camaraderie, Jake felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of his friends. With their encouragement and reassurance, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that he wasn't alone.
With a final adjustment to his tie and a reassuring pat on the back from Bob and Bradley, Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself for the momentous occasion ahead. Today, he would marry the love of his life, and he couldn't wait to begin this new chapter with Y/n by his side.
As the final preparations were made, Jake couldn't shake the feeling of nervous excitement that coursed through him. This was the day he had been dreaming of, the day he would pledge his love and commitment to Y/n in front of their family and friends.
As he stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie one last time, Jake couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had brought him to this moment. He thought about the ups and downs they had faced together, the laughter and tears they had shared, and the unbreakable bond that had formed between them.
Bob and Bradley, sensing Jake's moment of introspection, offered words of encouragement and support. They reminded him of the love that he and Y/n shared, and the strength of their relationship.
With a deep breath, Jake took one final look in the mirror, his heart filled with love and anticipation. Today was the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, and he couldn't wait to see what the future held for him and Y/n.
As he made his way to the ceremony, surrounded by his closest friends and family, Jake felt a sense of peace wash over him. He knew that no matter what challenges they may face, he and Y/n would always have each other, and that was all that truly mattered.
In the room filled with excitement and anticipation, Y/n stood surrounded by her nieces, Dj, Stephanie, and Michelle, who watched in awe as she slipped into her wedding dress. The gown, a vision of elegance and grace, shimmered in the soft light, accentuating Y/n's radiant smile as she twirled in front of the mirror.
Dj and Stephanie, their eyes wide with excitement, giggled and whispered among themselves, while Michelle bounced up and down with uncontainable joy. They couldn't wait to see their aunt marry Jake, their beloved uncle, and officially become a part of their family.
Irene, Jake's mom, stood by Y/n's side, her eyes shining with pride and affection. With gentle hands, she helped adjust Y/n's veil and smoothed out the delicate lace of her dress, her presence a comforting reminder of the love and support that surrounded Y/n on this special day.
As Y/n looked around the room at the faces of her loved ones, she felt her heart swell with gratitude. She was about to marry the man of her dreams, surrounded by the people she cherished most in the world. It was a moment she had dreamed of her entire life, and now it was finally here.
With a deep breath, Y/n took one last look in the mirror, her heart filled with love and excitement for the future that awaited her. She was ready to walk down the aisle and begin this new chapter of her life with Jake by her side, surrounded by the love of her family and the promise of a lifetime of happiness ahead.
The room buzzed with laughter and chatter as Irene continued to fuss over the final details of Y/n's ensemble. The air was filled with a mix of excitement, nervous anticipation, and the sweet scent of flowers that adorned the room.
Dj and Stephanie, still enthralled by the magical atmosphere, couldn't resist asking a barrage of questions. "Aunt Y/n, do you feel like a princess?" Dj inquired with wide-eyed curiosity.
Y/n chuckled, her eyes reflecting the joy in her heart. "I feel like the luckiest woman in the world," she replied, exchanging a warm glance with Irene, who shared in the sentiment.
Michelle, not to be left out, tugged at the hem of Y/n's dress. "Aunt Y/n, when do I get to wear a pretty dress like yours?" she asked with a beaming smile.
Y/n scooped Michelle into her arms, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. "One day, sweetheart, when you find someone special to share your life with," she answered, earning an approving nod from Irene.
As the final touches were made, the room echoed with the sound of joyous laughter and heartfelt moments. Y/n felt a profound sense of belonging and happiness, knowing that she was surrounded by the love of her family as she prepared to embark on this beautiful journey with Jake.
With a final glance in the mirror, Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the remarkable day unfolding before her. She was ready to walk down the aisle, not just as Jake's bride, but as a cherished aunt to Dj, Stephanie, and Michelle. The room exuded an air of love and excitement, a perfect prelude to the celebration of two families coming together as one.
As the time drew closer for the ceremony to begin, Y/n took a moment to soak in the precious memories being created in that room. She felt a deep sense of gratitude for Irene's presence, her gentle guidance a comforting reminder of the love that awaited her in her new family.
With a soft smile, Y/n reached out to hold Dj and Stephanie's hands, her heart overflowing with love for her nieces. "Thank you for being here with me today," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "You three mean the world to me, and I'm so grateful to have you by my side."
Dj and Stephanie exchanged a glance, their eyes shining with affection for their aunt. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Aunt Y/n," Dj replied, squeezing her hand tightly.
Stephanie nodded in agreement, a warm smile gracing her lips. "We love you, Aunt Y/n," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine warmth.
Y/n felt tears welling up in her eyes as she embraced her nieces, their bond stronger than ever in that moment. With a deep breath, she turned to Irene, her heart brimming with love and gratitude. "Thank you for everything, Irene," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so blessed to have you as my future mother-in-law."
Irene smiled warmly, her eyes shimmering with tears of joy. "You're already a part of our family, Y/n," she said, her voice filled with love. "Today is just the beginning of a beautiful journey together."
With a final embrace, Y/n felt a sense of peace wash over her. Surrounded by the love of her family, she was ready to take the next step forward, hand in hand with Jake, towards a future filled with endless love and happiness.
As Y/n walked down the aisle on Bradley's arm, her heart beat with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. She couldn't help but steal glances at Jake, waiting for her at the end of the aisle, his eyes filled with love and adoration.
With each step forward, Y/n felt the weight of the momentous occasion, the significance of this day not lost on her. She was about to pledge her love and commitment to Jake in front of their family and friends, surrounded by the beauty of their shared love.
As they reached the end of the aisle, Bradley gave Y/n's hand a reassuring squeeze before placing it in Jake's. Y/n looked up into Jake's eyes, her heart overflowing with love and happiness. In that moment, surrounded by their loved ones, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.
With a smile that lit up his face, Jake took Y/n's hand in his, his touch sending a wave of warmth through her. Together, they stood before their loved ones, ready to embark on this incredible journey together.
As Jake linked arms with Y/n to help her up a step of the altar, he couldn't resist whispering in her ear. "You look drop-dead gorgeous," he murmured, his voice filled with love and admiration.
Y/n felt her cheeks flush with warmth at Jake's words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "Thank you," she whispered back, her heart fluttering at the intensity of his gaze.
In that moment, surrounded by the love of their family and friends, Y/n felt like the luckiest woman in the world. With Jake by her side, she knew that she was truly living her fairytale. And as they exchanged vows and sealed their love with a kiss, Y/n knew that their journey together was just beginning, filled with endless love, laughter, and cherished memories.
Standing at the altar, Y/n took a deep breath before starting her vows. Her eyes met Jake's, and a soft smile played on her lips as she began to speak.
"When I first met you, Jake, I never imagined that I would one day move into a house to help a man raise his daughters. I never expected to fall in love with his brother-in-law," she said, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity.
The guests smiled, appreciating the honesty and uniqueness of Y/n's words. She continued, "But life has a funny way of surprising us, and I am so grateful for every unexpected turn that brought me to this moment. From the laughter shared with Dj, Stephanie, and Michelle to the joy found in our love, every step of this journey has been more beautiful than I could have ever imagined."
Y/n turned her gaze to Jake, her eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. "You've given me a family, a home, and a love that is beyond my wildest dreams. Today, I stand here promising to cherish and support you, to be there through every twist and turn, just as you have been for me."
As she spoke from the heart, Y/n felt the overwhelming love in the air, surrounded by the people who had become her family. The promises she made were not just vows; they were a celebration of the extraordinary journey that had brought them all together.
As Y/n finished her vows, there was a hushed anticipation in the air before Jake's turn to speak. Instead of traditional vows, Jake surprised everyone by asking for a guitar.
With a smile, someone passed him a guitar, and Jake strummed a few chords before he began to sing. His voice was soulful and heartfelt as he sang his own lyrics, a tribute to his love for Y/n:
đ” "From the moment I met you, my world was changed, You filled my days with sunshine, chased away the rain. I never knew love like this before, You're the one I've been searching for.
With every laugh and every tear we've shared, I know that our love will always be there. Through the ups and downs, we'll stand side by side, Forever and always, you'll be my guiding light.
You're the melody to my song, The harmony that keeps me strong. With you by my side, I feel complete, Together, our love is oh so sweet.
So here I stand, with all my heart, Promising to love you, never to part. With this ring, I give my all to you, Forever and always, I'll be true." đ”
As the final chords faded away, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Y/n looked at Jake, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. In that moment, she knew that their love was truly meant to be, a beautiful melody that would last a lifetime.
With the last notes of Jake's heartfelt song fading away, he stepped back up to the altar, his eyes locked with Y/n's. The room was filled with a palpable warmth, and the guests couldn't help but be moved by the sincerity and love that enveloped the couple.
As Jake reached for Y/n's hand, a shared smile passed between them. The time had come for them to exchange the long-awaited "I dos." Their vows, whether spoken or sung, had woven a beautiful tapestry of their love story, and now, in the presence of their family and friends, they were ready to take the next step in their journey.
"I do," Jake said, his voice steady and filled with conviction.
Y/n, her eyes shimmering with happy tears, echoed the sentiment, "I do."
The officiant smiled, pronouncing them as officially married. The room erupted in applause and cheers as Jake leaned in to seal their vows with a tender kiss. The joyous celebration of love continued, marking the beginning of a new chapter for Jake and Y/n.
tagging:
@callsign-magnolia
@shanimallina87
@callsign-dexter
@horseslovers2016
@rosiahills22
@djs8891
@hookslove1592
@emma8895eb
@hardballoonlove
@kmc1989
@dempy
@mamachasesmayhem
@senawashere
@buckysteveloki-me
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@itsmytimetoodream
@jessicab1991
@ahh-chickens
@86laura11
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Austin Butler in NY recently đđœ
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
On with the show
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
So many times đ«
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
If this is your first time seeing these youâre very welcome
98 notes
·
View notes
Note
Send me a made-up fic title and I'll tell you what I would write to go with it
You think that when you bat your beautiful eyes at me that I'm going to drop everything and do what you say? Well, you're right fuck you!
Tagging: @whateversomethingbruh @luannysousa @scorpio-1357 @littleone65
You want attention, Remy can tell. Itâs in the way your hand brushes over the back of your neck, fingertips trailing along the collar of your blouse drawing focus to your curves. Your cheeks have a light rosy tinge and your eyes are bright and full of mischief.
âYouâve been reading something dirty again havenât you?â He drawls as he scrolls through the information on his tablet.
This happens sometimes when you get lost in one of your Viking romance novels. Remy teases you about them but sometimes when youâve come across a steamy scene, well there have been more than a couple of afternoon delights.
You donât respond to the question, instead you bite your lower lip and give him that look, the one that tells him you need him to take care of you. He should just send you to the bedroom, remind you that you have toys to play with, that heâs doing something important but Remy, he can never deny you a single thing.
âYou think that when you bat your beautiful eyes at me that I'm going to drop everything and focus on you?â He murmurs, setting down his tablet before he leans over and drapes himself over you. His hands creep underneath your shirt, cupping your breasts as his lips ghost over your soft curves. âWell youâre right honey, thatâs exactly thatâs going to happen.â
Love Remy? Donât miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I have Dwight Hendrickson x Fem reader with the prompt "Kiss me all night, don't ever let me go"?
Tagging@ @kmc1989 @Atrxdixs @princesschyanne @words-and-seeds @cookiedoughmeagain
Dwight hasnât been paying you much attention lately, he owns that. Heâs been too busy putting out fires all over Haven to actually do more than fall asleep next to you. Tonight though, tonightâs different because heâs home early for once, nobody has tried to maim him, or kill him. He calls that a good day.
He spends his night kissing you, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as his tongue explores the confines of your mouth. His cock is buried deep inside you, your thighs cinched around his waist. He doesnât move, he doesnât thrust, he just stays there, hips pinning yours to the bed as he kisses you like his life depends on it, like itâs his last day on earth.
The truth is in a town like Haven it could be and DwightâŠ
He doesnât want to have any regrets.
Love Dwight? Donât miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Question for the future
Feyd-Rautha X f!Reader Question
Some of you might already know what I'm planning with Vladimir, Feyd and Reader. I hope the Sneak Peek is easy to understand.
But I don't know when the full chapter will be online. I'm not happy with this chapter so far and I have a feeling the Sneak Peek didn't come out well to you either. I'm thinking about what I'm going to change.
I thought I already asked, but apparently not. I feel like Reader is pretty much alone when Feyd isn't around her. Would you be interested in having Harkonnen girlfriends? Just ladies that you get along with and have some conversations with.
I'm also wondering if some or one of them could secretly help you and Feyd to see each other more often. As an 'alibi'. But I'm not sure yet.
(I don't think having buddies would be a good idea when Feyd is your fiancé.) He always has an eye on you, even when he's not directly around. You should know that.
Cuties <3 (They will maybe have some 'recognition features' in their faces. Maybe scars or painting marks.)
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
elejah_au
*
Divination
_fanfiction snippet
*
"Aurora de Martel left the ring there on purpose. It's part of a code. Whoever took her doesn't know that the ring had the inscription." Elena said.
Elijah twisted his lips curiously. Elena was right. The inscription was a code.
He also knew that it was a riddle of some kind. The codes as riddles needed a master to handle them. They cannot be interpreted by one who is an amateur of the craft. Some saw what they did as magic, yet in truth it was part of the magic.
Like Bonnie said, magic was partnered to the positive universe, a tool of nature. And she was the ultimate detective in the supernatural world.
"When you are outmatched, outgunned - cunning is all you have." Elijah suddenly said.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Benny looks like heâs going home with trouble written in dirt on his knees
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chris Evans as Steve Rogers in Avengers: Infinity War (2018)
861 notes
·
View notes
