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#and told him this conversation above and he felt so much better after that
anaquariusfox · 1 year
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No shade towards this user! But I would actually love to address this statement or thought process.
(And its actually £37 for you!)
But nonetheless, there are many things to consider when you’re criticizing an artist for the price of their works and here are a few!
How much time goes into the process of a piece(s)!
For example, I made not only one zine, but two in the span of 7 months. While working a 40+ hour a week active job. So all my free time was consumed with this zine. You may think $43 is a lot for a zine, but I am just one person make a whole NSFW zine. I wasn’t one of 20+ artists and fic writers putting one piece into a whole zine. And I won’t undervalue myself and my time! Also, most of my commissions, for one custom piece, cost more than not only my nsfw zine, but both my zines combined.
How much time goes into the technically side of the piece(s) (I.e. creating the actual zine with printing companies and sizing and resizing, and shipping and handling artists usually handle themselves)
For myself, it was hours and hours of file converting and resizing and in the end it still didn’t look good in zine previews, that’s why I decided to go digital.
The exclusivity of the artwork(s)
You’ll find a lot of things of this nature are either limited time products or exclusive to the product itself! For example, all my pieces in my NSFW zine, are for the zine supporters only, as well as my SFW being half favorite pieces and half new, zine exclusive pieces!
The content of said artwork(s)
My zine for example, is a “taboo” type of artwork, it’s basically a book full of porn. Not a lot of artist draw porn and even less nsfw artist, share it on social media! But here I am, sharing a whole exclusive zine of porn for two lovable characters! Oh, and as trans characters haha. They’re t4t in my zine because I draw the representation I want through my favorite characters!
* And in the end really! *
You’ve got to understand, as artists, we are putting out so much free content on social media. Whether it’s every day, every other day, once a week or once a month. You, as a consumer of our work, get free content (both old and new), all for free! Is that not wild?! For example, people pay $10 a month to see all the porn I’ve ever drawn on Patreon on then get to see the latest porn and sfw stuff I post! Ive been told by so many friends that I should charge more even! But that’s not the point of this post.
Artists could never share again, or put their craft and skills behind a massive paywall, but we love sharing and putting art into the world, cause fuck, a world without art would kill me. I literally love scrolling through my social media and seeing all my mutuals and artists I follow share their work and interests through art. I love seeing their minds work and what they felt so proud of to share it with the world.
And on top of that, if you think something is a bit too high in price, just remember all the free content the artist puts out, remember what art piece you love the most from them and why you followed them in the first place maybe! And by purchasing an item(s) from them, is a way of showing them support for all the joy their art has brought you 🫶😊 and just supporting artists in general vs large corporations who usually underpay their artists or just straight up steal art.
**In the end, I won’t undervalue my time and skill for a quick sale cause I’ve had people happily support me at the prices they are and I’m so grateful te for them.**
*** No artist should undervalue their work! We have a skill and took time to create this skill and study our skill to become better and better 🫶***
I do hope that anyone with the same mind set as this user, might have a new POV on the artists side/ BTS side of an artist and content creator when judging their prices.
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barefoothighlander · 11 months
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never going back again - 02
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summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup
simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining
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It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,
"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"
What you did all day,
"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"
It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.
"What are you doing in here?"
"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.
"I thought you were good at cooking"
"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.
He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"
"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"
"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,
He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"
"Let you what"
"Cook, I'll make dinner"
"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.
"Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"
"They don't feed you at work?"
"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"
"Did your mum cook?"
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"
"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"
He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,
"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"
He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,
"So what are you making?"
"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"
"French toast?"
"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"
You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,
"Well, it smells great"
The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,
"You can't be serious"
"What'd I do?"
"That's like a cup of syrup"
"So?"
"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"
"What if they already have"
You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"
"You don't have to turn away you know"
You make a small huh? in response,
"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"
"I just assumed"
"I know, but you don't have to turn away"
"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. “How’s your cut”
“Healing, thanks to you, still tender”
“Can I” You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.
He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.
You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,
“Sorry”
“Doesn’t hurt”
You tilt your head to him and he’s watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.
“That should do”
“Thank you”
“It’s nothing”
“Thank you” He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.
"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"
"You trying to kick me out?"
"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"
"There isn't"
You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"
"Right"
There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.
"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.
He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.
You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,
"You scared me"
"You were having a nightmare"
"Yeah, they happen sometimes"
It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,
He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,
"Simon"
He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.
"Will you stay, it's just"
He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"
"Please"
"Of course"
You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.
You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.
You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.
"Do you have something in your pocket?"
He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,
"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.
"It's fine"
He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,
"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"
"Thank you"
You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.
You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.
You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.
You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.
“Where’s the kettle?”
“Top left cabinet”
You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,
“Thanks”
He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yep, just making tea”
“Okay, bags are in the lower cupboard”
He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“Shit” He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, he’d never had soft before always jagged and dark.
His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,
“Are you any good at fixing things?”
“Depends, what needs fixing”
“The shutters outside, they’re falling apart”
“I could give them a look”
You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.
The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.
“I think you’re his new favourite”
Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.
“Strange”
“He’s not strange”
“Not him just, I’ve never had a cat do this”
“Well get used to it”
He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.
“The shutters”
You set your cup down, nodding at him, “There’s some tools in the shed outside, not sure what’s left but maybe they’d help”
“I’ll get right on it then”
It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.
I’m hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.
“Beer”
It’s the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes he’d stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.
“Cheers, love one”
Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.
“Must be hot with the mask”
“Get used to it”
You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he can’t tell if you’re teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.
“How’s it looking”
“Great”
“So you’re almost done”
“Huh?” His eyes pull back to yours,
“Are you almost done, it’s getting unbearable out here”
“Yeah, nearly there”
“Great, I’ll be inside”
The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didn’t involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.
“Mind if I shower, I’m covered in sweat”
“Yea of course” Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, “Towels are in the washroom”
He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,
“You alright?” You call
“Yeah, just sore”
“Well hurry up, I’ll check your stitches”
You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.
“Figured it’s easier if I just put my shirt on later”
He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,
“Sure, easier”
He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise they’re doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.
“S’good, should be able to take them out soon”
“Great”
“Might leave a scar”
“Adds to the collection”
You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.
“I’m fine”
“I know you are”
“It only hurts a little, when it happens”
“And someone did this to you”
“A few people”
“How many is a few?” You stare at him with rounded eyes,
“Nothing you need to worry about”
You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,
“I guess we should sleep now” His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,
“Simon, would you- nevermind”
“What do you need?”
“I felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldn’t have any, you know”
“Yeah, I’d like that- you not having nightmares” He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.
“Okay” You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, “I’ll keep the lights off if you want”
He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.
He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.
You’re asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable he’d been in years, maybe ever and be didn’t dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.
He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,
“Good morning kitty”
He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that he’s not wearing a mask, it’s light out, and you’re not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.
He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.
“Mornin”
You turn around with a wide smile, “Sleep well?” You ask, leaning against the counter,
“Best in years” He’s being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then he’d accept it with open arms.
“Good, cause I think I found that wire you needed”
His heart sinks in an instant, “You did?”
“I think so, was tucked back in the drawer”
“Oh, I’ll see if it’s the right one then”
You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.
“The bathrooms got mold in it” It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.
“Huh?” You turn with your brows furrowed,
“The bathroom, noticed it last night, I can’t fix it if you’d like”
“Are you sure, I didn’t see any”
“Easy to miss sometimes, it’s just near the drain, shouldn’t take more than a day to clean up”
“Yeah sure, just let me know what you need”
He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,
Now I’ve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.
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spookykoolkat · 6 months
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kinktober | pretty mama - j.m.
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kinktober day eleven - breeding
pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader
wc: 3.48k
summary: after the beginning years of telling your husband you weren't ready for a baby, your four year marriage anniversary came up in the fall and you were having a little bit of baby fever.
warnings: 18+ ONLY! NO MINORS ALLOWED!! teasing, fingering, slight car sex if you squint, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, creampie, u protected penetration (p in v), dirty talk, talks of being a mother, pet names, talks of getting you pregnant.
reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated and loved! THANK U SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! this ones for u guys!
⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧ °。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧
YOU DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH joel craved to see you pregnant. something you found was a bit odd but after being married to joel for a few years, you realized it was more endearing than anything. 
it was like clockwork — every time you and joel had sex, he craved to fill you up. you always told him no, that you didn’t want him to cum inside of  you even though you yourself wondered of the outcome. 
not only did he have a small kink for wanting to watch his cum leak out of you, to think about you finding out you’re carrying a mini you and him in your womb – he ached for it. he imagined you walking around, swollen and round, achy feet and coming to him to make you feel better. to console you, to take care of you, to love you. 
but tonight, your four year marriage anniversary, you felt something different. something that you’d never felt before, something that you couldn’t even imagine wanting. 
joel couldn’t even wait before getting inside the house he fixed up for you, kissing you against the front door with his key jiggling in the doorknob. 
he took you to your favorite restaurant to celebrate, having a couple of glasses of wine and mindlessly laughing with each other, like a normal married couple. but you were feeling particularly needy. 
rubbing your heeled feet against his calf, rubbing up and resting your chin on your palm as his eyes grew dark. it was an exciting scene, and feeling your heel press into the thick of his thigh, he couldn’t wait to get you home any longer. 
you were dressed in a deep red dress that cinched at your waist and acted as a corset, flowing out down your hips. paired with your black pumps with the thick heel and your skin scented with your sweet perfume he loved - he couldn’t stop staring at you. 
“quit it,” he mumbled behind the wine glass, still letting you rub up to his crotch under the table. 
too dim to notice movement underneath, everyone too deep in conversation to acknowledge the couple next to them. 
“i’m not doing anything,” you said, using your fork to scrape against the plate. 
“i’m serious, honey.” 
and he was. because the minute the two of you left, he had your leg thrown over his thigh while he drove, his fingers curling up inside of your hole that leaked for him. 
“joel please,” you cried, gripping onto the seat as your pretty red dress sat above the thick of your thighs. 
“what is it, baby? what do ya need?” his condescending voice only made you clench harder around his fingers, feeling your cunt throb in response. 
“you! i need you, please,” he only curled his fingers at a relentless pace, the only thing being heard was the light sound of the radio and your cunt gushing around his fingers. 
“oh? you need me? ‘s that why you were actin’ all needy in there?” he smirked, coming to a red light and being able to watch himself finger your hole, watching you sink into the leather seat and prop yourself against the door. 
luckily for you, joel had just the perfect amount of tint to prevent anyone from really seeing how you get for him. even though he wouldn’t mind, he liked the thought of claiming you in every way. 
but now, joel opened the door finally and pushed you inside to aim for the bedroom. 
“what do you need from me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers tugging at the buttons of his white dress shirt after shucking off his shoes and blazer. 
your fingers were tugging at your panties already, still walking backwards to the main hall of your home. as you watched him walk towards you while taking off his top, you shook your heels off to take off a few inches of your height and finally reach the bedroom that was lit by the fairy lights you hung up — ones that joel fought you on, but you won anyways. 
the back of your knees hit the bed when you felt a cool breeze from the autumn wind blow through the open window, and you sat on the mattress while leaning on your palms. 
he stood in front of you, shirtless and unbuckling his pants as he stared you down: 
“i think,” you sighed dramatically, “i think i need you to fill me up.” 
-
he wasted no time to strip off his clothes and yours, leaving both of you bare as he crawled on top of you and spread your legs with his calloused hands. you might say that his hands are your favorite thing about him, but it seemed like every part of him drove you mad without trying. 
“do ya know what you’re sayin’ right now, baby?” joel asked, humming into your neck as he kissed and licked over the skin. 
you stared at the ceiling, a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your cheek into his. 
“mhm, i know. i need it, joel. need to know how it feels when you cum inside of me,” you said lowly into his ear, and you swore you heard him practically growl as his hand snaked between your bodies. 
“you want me t’ knock you up? you gonna let me put my babies right here,” he asked, pressing down on the fat of your lower tummy before inching his way to your mound. 
you just nodded, whining as you felt his hand start to spread your cunt. 
“joel, please, need you to breed me, please,” before you could cry for him again, his hand swiftly goes to grab you by your jaw and chin, squeezing the chub of your cheeks together so he can graze his nose against your ear. 
“say it again, tell me again,” he growled, and you bucked your hips up to try to rub your cunt against his bare cock, but he kept you down. 
“fuck, cum inside of me please, please knock me up,” 
you heard something animal like come from his throat, grabbing you harshly and pulling you up to lay back on a few pillows. he grabbed you by your thighs and pushed them up, exposing your sex to him so he could see every detail. 
he needed to admire you like this, the way your tummy bulges more than usual because of your knees near your chest, the way your thighs pushed the lips of your cunt together — covered in your slick. he loved watching you like this, seeing how you let him maneuver you however he wanted. 
still, with your legs pressed together against your chest as far as they could reach, joel sat on his knees and guided his tip between the thick lips of your cunt. he watched as your pussy covered him in your arousal, only watching as he slid between the lips, up your cunt and between your thighs. 
“such a  pretty baby, gonna let me pump you full? full of me?” he huffed as he fucked between your thighs, rubbing his shaft and balls over your cunt. 
your arms wrapped around the back of your thighs to hold yourself for him, and he smiled, kissing your calf and up your feet. moving his cock from rubbing between the fat of your thighs, he slowly let his member spread your cunt generously to rub over your hooded clit, down to prod at your tight hole. 
“yes, please, fill me baby,” you whined, feeling him start to sink into you, inducing you to stretch and mold around him. 
“mmm, fuck, always thinkin’ of fillin’ you up, always thinkin’ what you’d look like carryin’ my babies,” he grunted, taking over where you held your legs for him, spreading them wide and slotting between them. 
“fuck, joel please, please,” you were begging, aimlessly, but he only gave you more inches as he maneuvered his hips to slide further inside of your warmth. 
you could feel the way his cock made its way into your cervix, the way he pumped in and out of you slowly after finally bottoming out made you feel every curve, every vein, the way his head nudged the spot you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 
his mouth was everywhere, all over you as he pumped in and out of you kissing over your hot skin and the birth marks you had on your shoulders and neck. the dark freckles you hated, the stretch marks you thought you had too many of past the acceptable amount, the hair you tried to shave on your arms when you were a child — he worshiped all of you at every given moment. 
his arms snaked under your body, hooking over your shoulders to have leverage to keep his pace relentless. he held you close to his body, using every ounce of strength he had to make sure you didn’t have to lift a single limb to do any of the work. 
another thing about joel — he loved to just watch you take everything he had to give you. 
“that’s right baby, hold on to me, let me make you feel good, gonna make sure i put a baby in ya,” he whispered in your ear over the wet slaps that bounced off the walls, and you listened. 
you wrapped your thick legs around his waist, locking him in a hold with your calves as your arms wrapped around his, still holding you by your shoulders to keep you on his cock. your moans and whimpers would sound desperate, like you’d never be able to have him like this again, and you gripped at his forearms with your manicured nails. 
he loved when you were like this. desperately trying to get him closer, anymore closer to you than he already was, trying to grip onto him, to ground yourself with him. but it was never enough, you could never get enough of joel. no matter how many times he’s fucked you, or had you like this — you needed more. 
the thought of joel being a father to your kids never failed to make you swell with warmth, it never failed to make you fuzzy at the thought of joel claiming you in another sense. to make you a mother, the mother of his children, to have that tie forever and so everyone can know who you are made for — it sent a different type of pride in you. 
he wanted to get you pregnant, show the world that he had you to create and hold a life that you both had something to do with. to show everyone that he is the only one who could give you the world and more, to know that he’s practically locked you down in every way gave him a sense of security. 
the thought only sent your cunt to clench around the girth of his cock, something you’d never get used to be thoroughly enjoyed every time he gave himself to you. 
“fuck, fuck joel, fuck! so good, so so so good, wanna have your baby so bad,” you cried, and joel grunted at the thought as he situated himself on his knees. 
his hands were sunken into your plush tummy, hands gripping the fat of your body to hold up half of his weight and hold you down, as if you were going to slip away from him. he held you to the bed with his hands, pulling back and watching your legs unwrap around his waist to being held in the air, bent at the knee. without missing a beat, joel’s mouth hangs open a little at the sight and moved his hands from holding you by your waist, to grabbing your legs and holding you spread open by your thighs. 
this way, he could see every bit of you, the way your cunt sucked him in and made obscene sounds of squelching, how your tits looked pressed together, bouncing with fervor to each thrust. he imagined how they’d look when you were pregnant, how they’d fatten and round up as a response to your hormones and child-bearing body. 
“i know honey,” he cooed, licking his lips as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your cunt, “such a pretty pussy, ain’t lettin’ no on else have ya, you’re mine baby, all fuckin’ mine,” 
his southern accent came out more in his grunts and moans, losing concentration of anything else but you. 
he couldn’t imagine you getting any sexier, more desirable until he thought about you with his baby. after, especially. seeing you in a rocking chair with the baby in your arms, reading a story or cuddling them until they fell asleep. he remembered when he first met you. so outgoing, couldn’t get you to stay home, partying and doing all types of drugs. to be frank, he wasn’t approving of your way of life. 
he always worried about you, had to pick you up shitfaced at clubs, wanting to make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble. of course you did, there was a time joel had to bail you and tommy out of jail together because the two of you thought it was smart to get into a tussle at the bar with an obnoxious couple. joel never trusted tommy after that, mad at him for letting you do that, but you had to step in and tell him it was your decision. 
after that night, joel let you know how he felt. how your reckless ways weren’t fair for him, how he worried about you constantly, hoping you don’t end up drunk in a ditch somewhere. thinking about you now, asking him to make you a mother, only going out when joel went with you because you got tired of going out every night with your friends as you got older. now when you get drunk you aren’t crazy and sloppy, you were giggly or emotional. he admired your growth, and it even made him smile with pride realizing even though you changed some of your ways, you were still you at heart. 
he just knows you’re going to be the cool mom, the fun, exciting mom. he didn’t mind taking the burden of being the one to discipline and being not so fun to be around, it just made him flutter at the thought. knowing you went from crazy, wild and a party girl to wanting to be the mother of his kids made him warm. he had never loved anything as much as he loved you. 
“gonna be such a pretty mama, ain’t you? my perfect fuckin’ wife,” he growled, almost to himself as he stared down at you. 
no matter what, every time joel looked at you, you felt heat rush into your cheeks. this doesn’t change, not even when your bare underneath him. 
your eyes focus on his, watching his hair tousle and sweat form on his body. you couldn’t think, not even what to do with the rest of your limbs he wasn’t gripping onto, so you just hooked your arms under your calf, and held yourself open for him. 
“good fuckin’ girl, already knows what to do for me,” he smirked, watching you hold your folded position as far back as you can to open your cunt for him, just so he can see the hood of your clit between your lips and watch your hole flutter around his cock as you watched him. 
every time he soaked you in, you couldn’t help but clench. joel enjoyed watching you almost as much as you enjoyed watching him watch you. 
he smacked you on your ass a couple of times, stinging with every thrust he began to speed up with. your breath was being knocked out of you, no air in your lungs as he fucks into you to try to angle himself to hit your g-spot. it didn’t take much at all, especially not even he bent his knee to plant one foot on the bed and burying himself to a hilt. 
watching him like this, have so much desire and want for you enough to scrounge up any way to just be further pressed into you made the bundle of heat in your lower tummy nearly explode. 
“please, please, please cum in me, please, want your cum so bad, make me yours, wanna be good for you,” you rambled, breathy sentences coming out and not completely clear to you, but very clear to joel. 
he felt himself losing control watching you take his length, watching the ring of your arousal build on his cock. he couldn’t get used to how drenched you became at the sight of him, how slick you felt every time he slid between your folds. how his face and the scruff of his grown out beard would always be soaked coming up for air from your cunt — it was addicting. 
because he could be between your legs for hours, until you finally begged him to stop, to let up on your sore sex. 
“always so wet f’me, always ready to take my cock, always ready f’ me to plant my seed right,” he trailed, grabbing one of your hands from the backs of your thighs and using it to push onto your lower tummy that slightly hung over your mound, “here,” 
his hand rested on yours, and watched as your eyebrows furrowed into pleasure, your eyes fluttering and felt as if they were going cross eyed. vision blurred as you felt the undeniable pressure of your release threatening to spill over. you could feel him in your stomach, you could feel him everywhere. 
“such a pretty mess, ready for me to make her a mama, wantin’ t’ be mine forever, let me breed her pretty cunt whenever i want,” he whispered, and moved his hand down to your cunt to gather your juices that was covering his cock and spread it to your clit. 
he stuttered a moment, enjoying the way your hips tried to fuck back onto him, wanting to meet his thrusts with persistence. when you finally got into the rhythm, joel used his two fingers to rub firmly onto your clit. 
“gonna look so pretty filled with my cum, ain’t that right? cum for me, baby, make a mess on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” his words were too much for you, wanting to hold on for him, to cum together but it looked like you couldn’t help yourself. 
“gonna cum, gonna cum, joel, m’ c-cumming for you,” you moaned, followed by a heavy gasp caused by the jolts of your body after the knot in your tummy pulled apart and unraveled under him. 
he was the only one that could pull that reaction from you, the only one who got to see you shake under his hold, and god did he love it. he loved how you milked his cock until he felt his hips go sloppy, grabbing you harder than he knows, his mouth hanging open as he winced from the overstimulation of your cunt not letting go. 
he could do this over and over again, except this time, cumming inside of you was an entirely new situation. not only were you dripping down his shaft, but his last few thrusts into you and he came with a gravelly moan, one that made you throb around his cock. 
it was almost beautiful the way he made you feel warm, inside and out. the ropes of his hot release coated your walls entirely, and his hips slowly kept gliding in and out of you very softly. in his mind he was making sure you had a chance of carrying his baby, and even if not, he’d have the chance to do it over and over again until then. 
it’s all he could dream of really, filling you up with the purpose of making you a mother. 
“baby,” he breathes, letting your legs lay straight on the bed, his weight falling onto your body and he traps you. 
your bodies are sticky, covered in sweat and spit, your juices coating his entire groin and the bed. it was lovely, something that wasn’t at all sexual given how unflattering it is to be sweaty, disheveled and out of breath, but still you had a sense of lust and desire for him. love, is what you felt. and love was sensual, sexual, emotional, spiritual — it was everything. 
and as you laid there under joel while he gave small kisses over the skin exposed to him, playing with his hair and joel whispering to tell you how you are going to be the most amazing, beautiful mother there is — you couldn’t have imagined having a kid, being a mother, especially not to anyone else’s child. anyone but joel. 
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TAGLIST
@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @subconsciouscollapse @teyamsgrl
i hope u enjoyed! thank u so much for the support and for reading!
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princessbrunette · 14 days
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you couldn’t help it. he was your dads favourite friend. yours too.
above all, you felt safe with him — perhaps because he was the youngest of the bunch, it felt there was a more mutual understanding between the two of you. it was no secret that he loved to flirt with you, between offering you trips on his boat to your dad — likely just to get you alone, and the often implications he’d throw into casual conversation when you’d mention another boys name, along the lines of “listen kid you don’t need a boy you need a man. these suckers aren’t gonna satisfy you, can tell you that for free.” as he inhales cigarette smoke, fingers drawn to his lips outside at a work party for your dad that you’d invited yourself to.
he’d pulled up in that expensive car of his that you loved so much after you’d called him, begging him to pick you up. he even gets out the car to open your passenger seat door, taking note of the way you were more tipsy and loose than usual, tits practically falling out your top. “jesus, be careful would you?”
once driving away, you notice him licking his lips, glancing at you as he shakes his head disapprovingly.
“what’s that look for?” you giggle, rubbing at your thighs to warm up. the action makes him clench his jaw, flicking on the cars heating system just a tad — just so you’d stop tempting him. despite all the flirting, he was never quite sure if he could risk going through with it with you. he couldn’t lose this job, not after his own father had cut him off after starting his thirties.
“fuck are you doing out at this time, huh? does — does your dad know?” he blinks obviously at you, glancing away from the road for a second and you notice his hands tighten on the wheel when he sees the way you’re gazing at him.
“no! i’d like to keep it that way. i didn’t tell him ‘cos i didn’t wanna get in trouble. you’re not gonna get me in trouble right, mr cameron?” you lean over the centre console, tilting your head like a sad puppy. his eyes flutter in irritation and arousal, and he tongues at his cheek.
“nah… no… and i already told you to quit callin’ me that shit when i’m not working. it’s rafe.”
“mm, okay rafe. terribly sorry.” you smile to yourself, sitting back in your seat. there’s a short silence, before his curiosity gets the better of him.
“so— so who’s party was this anyway? you hangin’ out with boys?” his eyes slide over to you at the red light, his handsome features illuminated by the red glow.
“what if i was?” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head and lifting a hand off the steering wheel in exasperation.
“just a question. alright?” he thinks for a moment. “n’i told you already not to do that. trust me — okay — i was that age. it’s bad news for you… m’just tryna help you out here.” he resigns, shrugging.
“maybe you just want me all to yourself.” you walk your fingers along his leg — and this time he actually laughs, but it’s nervous, looking out his window as if to avoid looking at you all together. “wha’s funny? you’re the one always flirting with me.” you bat your eyelashes but he stares straight ahead, eyes hanging low.
“are you wasted?”
you sit back in your seat, arms crossed. “you should be nicer to me you know. i’m your bosses daughter.” your tone is braggy, chin held high with dignity.
“yeah, you’re my bosses daughter. s’exactly why i cannot be too fuckin’ nice to you, okay? can — can you do me a favour here? i’m trying to do the hard thing here and act right. if i did what i really wanted to do you’d probably just go runnin’ off to tell daddy, so… please.” he rants irately, a stiff hand held up between you. you stare at him, your bratty pout transforming in a conniving smile.
“what do you wanna do to me, rafe? ‘said if you did what you really wanted to do… so tell me what you want to do to me.” you lilt, turning your body in your seat which made your skirt hike up a little and your tits press together. he sighs, dropping his head for a moment and scratches his cheek at his slip up before giving you a warning look.
“don’t ask me that shit, okay?”
“i wont tell, i’m really good at keeping secrets.” you smile brightly, and he continues to stare — nearly missing the light turn green.
“that right.” he deadpans and you nod.
“mhm. anyways, funny story — i’ve been getting really good at my stretches. totally unrelated, but you know i can get my knees up by my head now? i’d show you, but there’s not much space here. there’s probably… a lot more space in the backseat.” you lean forward once more, and he continues to stare ahead, driving. “c’mon, rafe. don’t you wanna see? no one has to know.”
“alright, okay — shit. you want it so bad, i’ll give you what you fuckin’ want. jesus— you know, it’s about time you learn to stop teasing grown men, understand me?” he swivels the wheel, briskly pulling into a parking lot nearby and parking the car so haphazardly that you jolt forward when he pulls the brake. “what — are you havin’ second thoughts? huh? no? get in the back before i change my damn mind.”
“okay, rafe.”
“and thats mr cameron to you now, a’ight? go on.”
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virtualreader · 10 months
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under the stars
rickgrimesxfem!reader
summary: somehow the night watch shifts got jumbled, resulting in a maybe-not-so-forced proximity with the married, appealing leader of the group.
word count: 2,2k.
genre: smut, and a lil' bit of angst.
warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, masturbation, adultery, etc. (not proofread)
a/n: this was requested by an anon, I really hope it is what you wanted, enjoy!
+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!
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The night sky laid before your eyes. It was the only thing that had improved with the outbreak. There were plenty of stars that night; they had always been there, but you just couldn't see them.
Contemplating the bright stars made everything seem right as if you were still enjoying summer nights in your backyard. But you were not. You were on watch.
The silence around you was only broken by the crickets and the occasional distant howling of the wind. The moon above shone brightly, casting eerie shadows around you, and the first dewdrops settled down onto the wisps of grass.
Suddenly, you heard a twig snap, and your heart skipped a beat. You turned around and saw Rick approaching you, his brows drew together as he asked, "Whatcha doing up there, y/n?”
“Watch duty,” you spoke simply.
Rick found it strange; he could have sworn that it was his turn tonight. As a matter of fact, it was. However, Glenn had asked for you to cover his shift, as they would not return until late into the night.
"Wasn't I supposed to be on watch tonight?" he asked, shifting his weight to his right leg.
You observed him from your perch atop Dale's RV. His hands rested on his hips, and a substantial amount of blood stained his clothes. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his torso, highlighting the physical exhaustion he must have been experiencing.
"Were you?" you rubbed your forehead. "Glenn told me you couldn't make it here in time for your shift.”
"Mind if I stay?" Rick asked. "I won't be able to sleep a wink anyway, and I think you could use someone to talk to, don't you?”
After accepting his proposal, Rick climbed up the handrails to sit beside you. With your feet hanging off the vehicle, you felt the cold breeze hit your skin, but it didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. Instead, you welcomed the refreshing feeling, which provided a momentary escape from the tension and stress of everyday life in this new world.
You observed Rick as he took in the view, his expression softening as he relaxed, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of the world around him.
As Rick sat beside you on top of the RV, you both found yourselves lost in a conversation that went on for hours. It was a rare moment of tranquility in a world filled with chaos, and you were grateful for it.
"You know what I miss the most from the old world?" he asked, breaking the settled silence.
You looked at him, nodding to encourage him to continue.
"Coffee," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "There was something about that bitter taste that just made everything better. It was like a warm hug in a cup, and it's something that you just can't replicate with anything else." He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I remember how people used to line up for hours just to get their hands on a cup of coffee from their favorite shop. It was a social event, a way to connect with others over a shared love of caffeine. And now, it's just gone.”
You kept on talking for a while, exchanging memories from the time before the apocalypse. Although it felt like only minutes had passed since he arrived, you found yourself opening up to him, telling him about your life before the dead walked the earth.
You reminisced about renting movies every Saturday night, a ritual you followed religiously. You described dancing around the house with a broom in your hands, singing along to your favorite 80s songs. You explained how you would wander the neighborhood streets for hours with your dog, even on rainy days.
Rick's eyes drifted towards the horizon, and you could see the sadness etched onto his face. "I miss it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I miss my family, my friends, my job…everything. I miss everything."
You placed a hand on his shoulder, offering comfort. "We all do, Rick. We all do."
"Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it," Rick said, his voice heavy with emotion. "All the fighting, all the pain…for what? Just to survive another day?"
You turned towards him and rested your hand on his arm. "It's worth it, Rick. We have to keep going, for ourselves and for the people we care about.”
"You know," you began, hesitating as you tried to gather your thoughts. "I've been thinking a lot about the world we live in, and how chaotic and violent it can be. It's easy to feel lost and alone like we're all just struggling to survive. But then I look at you, and I realize that you make me feel safe, protected, and cared for." you said, voicing the thought that had been brooding in your mind. "And I believe I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate you as our leader.”
Your cheeks blossomed with red as Rick’s enlarged pupils bored into your soul as if he could read through you. His mere presence was enough to put you in a fight-or-flight mode, making you aware of an attraction you had not acknowledged before.
Rick Grimes was not chosen to be the group leader - it was a role that he fell into almost organically. His rise to leadership was not unexpected. He had always been a man of great integrity and his strong moral compass meant that he was a natural choice to lead the group. Rick's unwavering commitment to the group's survival and his ability to remain level-headed in times of crisis meant that he quickly gained the trust of his peers.
The graze of a hand in your tight startled you, averting your eyes from the sky that had you entranced, to Rick's face. He took advantage of the moment and reached out to gently caress your cheek. You felt a rush of emotions as your heart began to race.
You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as Rick leaned in closer, responding to the adulterous desire you had ignited within his heart. His breath felt hot on your skin, and you could hear the beating of your own heart as your lips met in a passionate kiss, finally acknowledging the feelings that had been brewing between you for days. Though the world may have been gone, at that moment, everything felt right.
As you embraced the married man, your heart was racing with excitement. You could feel his lips on yours and his arms tightly wrapped around you. But as you both pulled away, a sudden realization dawned on you. What were you doing? You were kissing a married man, and his wife laid just a few feet away, sound asleep. The guilt and shame crept up inside you, and you couldn't help but feel regretful for your actions. It was clear that this was anything but right.
“I-I’m sorry. I should not-” you breathed, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words. You looked down at your feet, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You had always been good at thinking on your feet, but at this moment, your thoughts were scattered and disjointed.
"Don't do that," he said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. You tried to look away as if avoiding his gaze would excuse your immoral actions. But the hand he had on the side of your face prevented you from doing so, gently forcing you to look at him as he confessed, "Don’t apologize for something we've both obviusly wanted for a while now.”
And as if he knew what was going through your mind, he added, "Please don't worry about Lori," his voice soft and comforting. "Our relationship had decayed well before you and I met, so don't beat yourself up. If anything, that responsibility rests on me." His words were like a balm to your soul, a soothing reassurance to your worries, easing the fears that had been gnawing at you.
As the night wore on, you found yourself ogling at Rick's physical appearance. You couldn't help but notice the veins on his arms or the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the feeling of desire for him was overwhelming. You knew that your actions were wrong, but in this world, who was there to judge? You leaned in to kiss him again, but this time, something was different. This time, you knew that there was no going back.
When he turned you over onto your back, your heart raced with anticipation. You felt his hands slide down to your hips, gently but firmly holding you in place. As your lips remained locked in a passionate embrace, you couldn't help but shiver from the cool metal of the RV's roof against your skin. You felt a deep connection as he looked into your eyes, his gaze burning with desire and affection. In that moment, you knew that this was more than just physical attraction, but a true emotional bond between two people.
"Don’t make a sound," he muttered pulling away as he placed a finger over your mouth, hurriedly getting free from his dirty shirt. You had to be indeed quiet as to not be heard by the rest of the group, especially his wife.
After struggling with the zipper, you finally freed yourself from your tight-fitting pants. As you did, Rick's mischievous grin grew wider, his eyes lingering on the laced panties that you were wearing underneath. The silky fabric felt smooth against your skin, and you couldn't help but blush as Rick's gaze lingered on you. The enflaming feeling of a light gust of wind grazing your cunt sending a shiver down your spine.
"God damn it," Rick whispered. "You look so good beneath me.”
Rick began exploring your body with his hands, savoring every inch of your skin. He slowly lifted your shirt above your braless chest. You let out a soft moan as he ran his tongue over your nipple, causing your back to arch lightly at the sensation. His touch was electric and you couldn't resist the urge to pull him closer, wanting to feel more of him against your body.
Your hands whirled in the back of his head, feeling the texture of his coiled hair in your fingers as they intertwined with it. You felt a rush of passion as your lips connected once again, savoring the taste of his. Your fingers fumbled with his zipper, your eagerness growing with each passing second. His tongue met yours in a frenzied dance, both of you desperate for more.
Once you’d made your way to his hard cock you caressed his bulge, feeling it grow with each passing moment, and you looked up at his face, anticipating his reaction. A muted growl escaped his mouth as he quivered under your touch. You continued to stroke him, your movements becoming more and more deliberate as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.
“Shut up, you’re gonna get us caught.” you ordered him after he moaned loudly , smugness emanating from you.
“That’s gonna be hard if your hand stays there any longer, pretty girl.”
His hands slipped under your panties, the circling movements of his fingers over your clit delivering shockwaves through your entire body. You couldn't help but gasp as you felt your walls tighten around his fingers, and the pleasure continued to build with each passing moment.
Rick's voice was hoarse as he leaned over you, his eyes dark with desire. "You are so ready for me," he whispered, his fingertips tracing a path down your body until they reached your entrance. The anticipation was almost unbearable as he teased you, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel like a dirty girl as he continued his ministrations, but you didn't want it to stop.
He entered you slowly, his fingers teasing your entrance until you were begging for more. When he finally filled you completely, you gasped from the intense pleasure that coursed through your body. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in that moment that you were completely his.
The way he moved inside you was a dance of passion, each thrust taking you higher and higher until you were flying. You clung to him, your hands running over his back as you surrendered to the rapture that he was giving you.
As you both reached the peak of ecstasy, he crushed beside you, his body slick with sweat and his chest heaving. The warmth of his skin against yours was both comforting and exhilarating, and you couldn't help but snuggle closer to him, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking.
As the night turned into dawn, the two of you lay entwined on the roof of the RV, the cool breeze of the night forgotten. The guilt that had been plaguing you had subsided, replaced only by a feeling of contentment and euphoria. It was a moment that you knew you would never forget, a moment that would forever be etched in your memory as a reminder of the beauty that could still be found in a world filled with chaos.
Perhaps the scintillating night sky was not the only great thing the outbreak bought into your life.
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bloodweep · 4 months
Note
With this newfound love for JD and the others of course I need more headcanons of them knotting the reader if they were able to get it all in there i absolutely devour the knotting content
You naughty naughty gosh got me blushing so so hard writing this especially JD and Clays
Slamming my face into the ground so hard right now
NSFW SOME MAY NOT BE INTO THESE HEADCANONS BE ADVISED
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ first time knotting ࿐ྂ
John Dory:
Cock description: 12 inches flat out, thickest part 5.67 inches, thinnest 5.04 inches, knot at the base that can expand to 7.34 inches (the most someone can take is about 8 inches across so it’s nearly there and painful so he doesn’t do it often - if he does it has to be with a lot of lube and spit)
‗ ❍ He is not able to knot in the cunt, he is too big and long unfortunately, the only way he could would be anal, but that too would take a bit of time to accomplish
‗ ❍ but this doesn’t stop him from pinning you down, hands pressing against your abdomen as he slowly pressing into your cunt, soft gentle grunts leaving his throat as his cock stretches you open
‗ ❍ pants and shivers above you when he can no longer push anymore in, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly as he moves one hand up to grip your chin
‗ ❍ “don’t move, don’t move, fucking hell baby, don’t move” is what he would say as he pants, shifting slightly enjoying your moans as his cock shifts in your cunt
‗ ❍ he would stay so still - the best he could at least - waiting for you to adjust, his hand sliding down from your abdomen to brush his palm against your clit
‗ ❍ “so tight god dammit you’re so tight,” he would grunt out, his grip on your chin tightening briefly before sliding down to grip your thigh and push your left thigh up and out of the way, to spread open your cunt a bit more
‗ ❍ he probably could only fit about half of him in you for a while, fucking into you shallowly not caring if his knot couldn’t be in you
‗ ❍ however at some point, the conversation of anal would come up, gently prodding the topic to see how you would feel, he wants to feel his knot be squeezed around you
‗ ❍ he didn’t bring it up again after that, wanting you to bring it up yourself personally so you never felt rushed
‗ ❍ gods would be so ecstatic when you bring it up
‗ ❍ eats you out for a while during that night, his tongue dragging across your folds, clit and hole lazily
‗ ❍ claws digging into your hips and thighs
‗ ❍ would ask if you would be okay if he rimmed you
‗ ❍ given the okay he would slide down, dragging his tongue across the hole
‗ ❍ gosh he would finger you open so soft and lazily, ensuring you’re stretched enough for him
‗ ❍ USES SO MUCH LUBE, more lube the better, even if you tell him that using that much was a waste
‗ ❍ he fucks you so so slow, it’s teasing/ torture how he’s doing it, takes so much time to get his whole cock in you
‗ ❍ when he does he completely freezes, eyes completely glazed over and blown wide, teeth bared in a snarl as he held himself still, his arms caging around your head, shaking as he stared down at you, but it looked more like through you
‗ ❍ gosh he would be so good for you, waiting for you to be okay with it, he would wait hours if you told him to
‗ ❍ gods he fucking pants too, trying to get air in properly his body twitching every once in a while
‗ ❍ given the okay he would simply grind into you, groaning, which would turn into a needy whine, he didn’t want to pull his cock out, this being the first time you’ve taken him in fully and he didn’t want to lose the feeling
‗ ❍ he would lean down and nuzzle into your hair and whimper, “don’t make me pull out,” he would whisper softly, nearly in tears
‗ ❍ but he would have to, so you could feel good, he would lazily pull out, maybe a few inches before thrusting back in, his deflated knots pulsing as if renters you
‗ ❍ would once in a while reapply lube to the little bit of his cock he pulled out, fearing it would end up hurting
‗ ❍ ugh definitely reaches down and hooks a thumb in your hole, pulling it open a bit more and directly pouring lube in
‗ ❍ clearly likes it messy
‗ ❍ honestly he would probably cum pretty quickly, not used to his knot actually being engulfed
‗ ❍ the standard 8oz bottle of lube would be used that night
‗ ❍ gods when he does knot you, he fuckign convulses little sobs leaving him as his knot expands in you
‗ ❍ collapses on you, arms wrapped around you so tightly as he whimpered with you, his claws gripping onto whatever skin was there
‗ ❍ he would lick and kiss your tears away while saying “you’re doing so fucking while, fuck baby, just a little more don’t move”
‗ ❍ “gonna fuck you full, gonna make you full of my cum”
‗ ❍ “gonna make you pregnant”
‗ ❍ he definitely makes your stomach distorted as his cum fills you up
‗ ❍ massages your back, thighs and stomach as he waits for his knot to deflates, whispering gently how he hopes he didn’t hurt you too much
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
Bruce:
Cock description: 9 inches, curves left, 5.45 all around, hes rather girthy compared to everyone else, his knot expands to 6.75 inches around
‗ ❍ can definitely knot your cunt, will be overwhelming though
‗ ❍ have you sitting on top of him while it happens so you have full control over what is happening
‗ ❍ hands gripping your hips and helping you grind
‗ ❍ lazy smile on his face while he feels his knot fill and stretch your cunt up more
‗ ❍ definitely just lets his head full backwards as he purrs
‗ ❍ praises you how well you took his knot and how proud of you he is
‗ ❍ he’s so fucking soft during it, goes so slow so he cannot hurt you
‗ ❍ rubs his thumbs against your hipbones so so softly
‗ ❍ “you’re so beautiful, like this, made for me” he would purr out
‗ ❍ definitely tries to get you to blush as much as he could with his knot deep in you
‗ ❍ once he feels like you can handle it, he would roll you guys over, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock into you, the knot making it difficult to move but he could
‗ ❍ definitely tries to cum into you as many times as you let him
‗ ❍ once you whine at him that it’s too much, he would stop, brush your hair back and press soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
Clay:
Cock description: 10 inches, curves up and about 4.33 inches around at the thickest part, the thinnest is 4.02, has a large knot at the end
‗ ❍ cannot knot your cunt, has to be anal, but he doesn’t know how to really bring it up, it causes him to get anxious and uncomfortable since he doesn’t want you to get upset or uncomfortable
‗ ❍ you would definitely have to initiate it first
‗ ❍ he always lets you ride, his hands grasping your thighs so gently as you rub your cunt on his cock, the lips wrapping around the middle of his cock as you rolled your hips, sometimes sliding up fully to let his tip catch your hole before sliding back down
‗ ❍ you always gotten interested in his knot, always staring at it, and gently touching it when it inflates, pressed against your cunt threatening to push in - if only it could fit in
‗ ❍ you would grin down at him, lifting up on your knees and grabbing his cock, purring at his flinch
‗ ❍ “so perfect want it so bad” you would whisper down at him make him gulp
‗ ❍ “gonna have it,” you would moan, your other hand coming to rest against his mouth, letting his fangs hook over your hand, his eyes looking so blown out and needy
‗ ❍ “be a good boy and sit still okay? Don’t you dare me,” you commanded him, he would nod , so slightly his ears moving to fully face you
‗ ❍ you would grin, grabbing the lube bottle you’ve been saving
‗ ❍ you would finger yourself on him, your face pressed into his chest, his cock neglected as you used your hand to fuck your hole open, the hand on his mouth pressing harder, ignoring the cuts his fangs left
‗ ❍ “oh fuck Clay, right there please,” you would plead, despite his hands resting, waiting to be told he could touch you
‗ ❍ definitely would be eager to get his cock in your ass, grasping him so quickly he would flinch and let out a soft pathetic groan before brushing his tip against your gaping hole
‗ ❍ you would go slow, easing it in as you shivered
‗ ❍ his claws would grip into your thighs, trembling as he tried to sit so still
‗ ❍ ugh once you were fully sat down he would flinch again his eyes trained on the bulge in your stomach
‗ ❍ drools, his breeding kink getting a bit too out in the opening
‗ ❍ your hand open press against his neck too, making his keen into your hand, his eyes rolling back a bit
‗ ❍ gosh his hips would snap up ignoring your grumpy noise and scolding from him moving
‗ ❍ gets a bit rough, his hands moving to your thighs to your ass, gripping each cheek and fucking up into you
‗ ❍ purrs when you fall onto his chest whimpering
‗ ❍ gosh when he knots you he definitely cums a lot; so much cum leaks out from the seal and gets all over his own thighs
‗ ❍ shakes when he cums
‗ ❍ cries too, holding you so tight to him needing you close
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
Floyd:
Cock description: 8 and 1/3 inches (yes 1/3) thickest part 4.45, thinnest 3.45 inches, doesn’t have a knot that’s impressive (sorry he was stunted) the knot barely expands to 4.01 inches, but it’s definitely nice to feel it sliding in and out!
‗ ❍ prefers anal over anything
‗ ❍ haves you pinned on your stomach hips up
‗ ❍ clings to your back as he ruts into you
‗ ❍ tears streaming down his face as he gets overstimulated so easily
‗ ❍ extremely touch starved
‗ ❍ bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts in and out
‗ ❍ it’s messy, so messy, the whole lube bottle used
‗ ❍ his tail wagging so so hard
‗ ❍ “please please” is all he would say
‗ ❍ “let me knot you, gosh please I can take care of you so well,” he would groan into your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist , hands pressing into your flesh
‗ ❍ “mine, right? Gods please say you are mine” he would beg
‗ ❍ begs to hear you praise him
‗ ❍ wants to know what you want him to do to you
‗ ❍ kisses down your spine constantly, dragging his tongue along it as well
‗ ❍ sobs when he cums and knots, collapsing on you and forcing you to
‗ ❍ grinds into you as he continues to cum
‗ ❍ sobs into your back “thank you thank you”
‗ ❍ extremely clingy to the point you cannot move or he would cling tighter and shake his head
‗ ❍ stays inside far beyond his knot deflates
‗ ❍ purrs softly into your ear to make sure you’re okay
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
Branch:
Cock description: cock is 9 1/2 inches, thickest part 3.57, thinnest 3.34, knot expands to 4.89
‗ ❍ knots your cunt constantly, his cock pressing deep into you
‗ ❍ nuzzles into the front of throat, closing his mouth around it - being mindful of his fangs though
‗ ❍ he loves watching your stomach bulge and expand from his cock, knot and cum
‗ ❍ his hand would press into the bulge, purring as he felt his own cock thrust in and out against his palm
‗ ❍ nips up to your ear and bite on it as he fucks into you harder
‗ ❍ probably knots your cunt four times in one night
‗ ❍ enjoys anal too, definitely a spur of the moment type of thing
‗ ❍ “can I knot your ass too?” He would ask dreamily into your chest, not wanting to get rid of the delirium he was feeling
‗ ❍ if given permission he would kiss down your body, kiss your clit before licking up his and yours cum
‗ ❍ humps the bed while he does this
‗ ❍ makes sure you’re all cleaned before moving down to your asshole and dragging his tongue along the hole
‗ ❍ his left thumb pressing back into your cunt while he eases his right into your ass
‗ ❍ fucking munch would eat out both holes
‗ ❍ so eager to get his cock in your ass, his hand holding your cheek apart as he drags his cock across your slightly gaping hole
‗ ❍ eases in and bares his teeth growing
‗ ❍ gosh he nearly passes out when he knots your ass
‗ ❍ tongue definitely comes out as he pants
‗ ❍ his hands all over your thighs and cunt, rubbing against your clit
‗ ❍ “cum for me, cum for me now, wanna feel you clench around me”
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
Gosh I’m blushing so hard I’m screaming
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jeannineee · 8 months
Text
Closure (Ⅱ)
Azriel x Reader
a/n: part two is here :) comment if you want to be added to the taglist in part 3. Quickly edited!!
PART ONE
PART THREE
warnings: angst, slight hints at depression, smut (18+ please)
“If you’re not going to eat your bacon…” Cassian trailed off, eyeing your half-eaten breakfast.
You slid your plate across the table. “Have at it.”
Mor swatted the back of Cassian’s head as he devoured the food you gave him, a scowl on her face. “She needs to eat, dumbass.”
Cassian spoke with his mouth full, “She was finished!”
“I was finished, Mor,” you interjected, rising from the table. “I’ll be in my study.”
“You’ve been in there a lot, lately,” Cassian said, with Mor shooting him a condescending glare in response.
“I’ve been busy,” you lied smoothly. “I’ve a lot to prepare, especially with the visit to the Hewn City happening tomorrow.”
Something like concern shone in the pair’s eyes, but they both knew better than to speak of it. Cassian refocused his attention to the plate before him as Mor nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”
You didn’t so much as glance over you shoulder as you made your way to your study. You shut the wooden door after entering, refusing to look in the mirror to your right. You were almost certain of what your reflection would look like, anyway.
Azriel hadn’t spoken to you in almost two weeks. Not a single word, after the night you told him about wanting to end your…whatever situation you had going on with him.
Mother above, you missed him. It wasn’t the sex that you missed, as good as it was. You missed him. You missed his presence, his conversation.
Azriel wasn’t quite ignoring you, but he wasn’t going out of his way to speak to you, either. When it came to Elain, however, he was more than happy to drop everything for her.
You knew you shouldn’t be jealous. Azriel wasn’t yours, nor were you his. But each time he approached Elain, rage boiled through you, so unrelenting you often had to walk away for fear of what you’d do to her.
You could thank the mating bond for that.
Based on his behavior, you were almost certain that Azriel hadn’t felt the bond yet. Or perhaps he had, and chose to ignore it.
Or maybe he didn’t want to be your mate?
Or perhaps he’d never feel the bond, and you’d never know the answer to that question.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Hewn City hadn’t changed from your last visit.
Rhys and Feyre stood perched on the throne, overlooking the crowd. Some danced, some conversed, while others outright stared at the High Lord and Lady, and their Inner Circle—likely in fear.
As they should.
You’d joined Rhysand’s inner circle almost three hundred years ago. You were no stranger to the doings of the Court of Nightmares. Still, every visit had you itching to return home to Velaris.
You leaned against one of the columns towards the back of the throne room, unable to hide your lack of interest. Mor and Cassian were lost to the crowd, and Azriel was…you didn’t know where he was.
Sighing in boredom, you picked at the fabric of your dress—which, in truth, left little to the imagination. Such was normal in the Court of Nightmares.
As if in response to your previous thoughts, the bond in your chest roared to life as the spymaster approached you, his blue siphons gleaming, wings tucked in tightly.
“You look like you’re having fun,” Azriel said, voice dripping with sarcasm as his shadows swirled around the two of you.
You scoffed. “That’s all you have to say to me? Two weeks without so much as a ‘hello,’ and that’s the first thing you say?”
Azriel’s jaw clenched, and you bit the inside of your cheek as his annoyance flooded through the bond.
“I’ve been busy.”
“With Elain,” you snapped, too angry to rein in your jealousy. “How’s her garden coming along?”
“Why do you care about Elain?”
“Because she’s taking all of your time.”
“You aren’t entitled to any of my time,” Azriel spat, more pissed off than you’d ever seen him.
The words stung, but they were true. You took a step back, trying to ignore the tears stinging your eyes. Azriel took notice, his expression immediately softening.
“I didn’t mean that, y/n.”
You ignored him, instead leaving the throne room, heading out into the empty hall. Azriel was quick to follow, grabbing your arm, and whirling you around to face him as he said, “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you replied, pulling away from his grasp, and continuing down the hall. “Your…relationship with Elain is none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t do that,” Azriel said, closely following behind.
“Do what?” You kept your gaze trained ahead as you stalked down the hall, eyes burning.
“Don’t act like it doesn’t affect you.”
“It doesn’t affect me.”
Azriel grabbed you again, pulling you from the hall, into an empty study. “I see how you look at Elain.”
Your breath stopped short in your lungs. Your surprised eddied into hurt. “Don’t be mean, Azriel.” The words sounded childish; weak as they left you. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not trying to be mean—“
“Then stop mentioning Elain. I know how you feel about her, and you obviously know how I feel about her. I don’t need you to rub salt in the wound.”
Azriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You said there’d be no strings attached.”
“You created that rule.”
“And you agreed.”
“What do you want, Azriel?” You were frustrated. Hurt. But most of all, you were tired.
Azriel blinked—the most surprise he’d ever show. “I want to know what you have against Elain. Why do you dislike her so much?”
“I don’t dislike her.”
“You’re lying.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because you’re my friend,” Azriel answered, taking a step toward you.
There was that word again. That word that carved your heart out each time he said it.
Friend.
“Why do you dislike her?” Azriel pressed again, close enough now that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes.
“Because you’re in love with her!”
Azriel froze.
Your shoulders dropped, the tears you’d so desperately tried to stave away now streaming down your face. “Y-You’re in love with her. And I can’t—I can’t stand it.”
Azriel only stared. And stared. You’d never seen the Shadowsinger in such a state—in shock.
“Say something,” you breathed, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “Please.”
Please. Such a pitiful word. Weak. Childish.
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to respond. Instead, he rushed forward, pressing his lips to yours. He brought one hand to the nape of your neck, the other to the small of your back, deepening the kiss.
You melted into his touch on instinct, cursing yourself for the small whimpers that escaped you as his tongue explored your mouth.
Azriel backed you into the wall, attaching his lips to your jaw, your neck. Your hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, before stopping at the waist of his leathers, working to undo the buckles.
It took little time for you to free his length from the confines of his leathers. He groaned into your mouth as you stroked him, the sound heightening your arousal.
Azriel lifted you against the wall, and you wrapped your legs around him. His eyes met yours, and as he slid into you, you decided you could die like this. You could learn to accept having some of him. Something was better than nothing.
You needed him. Needed him like air, or water.
Perhaps you should feel shame, or regret, for being so content with having only pieces of him, while Elain gets everything he has to offer.
But each thrust of his hips silenced any protest that might have come to the surface. Each murmured praise, each caress of his lips on your skin felt like a prayer that only he could answer.
And as he brought you over the edge, his name was the only word you could manage. His touch was the only thing you cared about—anchoring you to the world; a lifeline.
Your name sounded sweet as honey on his lips as Azriel found release within you. He remained connected to you as the two of you regulated your breathing, his lips still sloppily, tiredly claiming your own.
Azriel slowly eased out of you, helping you to your feet. He reverently fixed your dress, your hair, his face so soft, touch so gentle you almost wanted to cry.
Some small, insecure part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he treated Elain like this. Had he taken her to bed yet? Would he?
The thought of Elain and Azriel touching one another…your stomach churned.
“Are you alright?” Azriel asked.
“Yes.”
A pretty lie. You shouldn’t have done this.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Azriel studied you a moment longer, before relenting. “We should probably go back separately…”
As if you weren’t already seen leaving together.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Sure. Go ahead. I’ll be a few minutes.”
Azriel gave you a final once-over. He looked inclined to speak, but decided against it as he left you alone.
The bond writhed within you. It called to Azriel, urging you to go to him, to say anything, do anything.
But you stood, frozen. Unmoving.
~~~~~~~~~
You were unsure of how much time had passed before you finally made your way back to the throne room. You tried your best to shove away your encounter with Azriel—to pretend it didn’t happen.
It was near impossible, with his hazel eyes being glued to you all night. Even more so, as he glared at any male who dared to walk your way.
You told him you wanted to end things, to stop the casual sex. Yet here you were, only weeks later, spreading your legs for him again.
What the hell were you getting yourself into?
~~~~~~~~~~
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queenshelby · 1 month
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part 21: CAUGHT
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
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Inside the kitchen, Cillian poured you two a glass of wine and heated up the food while you watched, marveling at how easy it was to be around him. It wasn't just his charm or experience, but the passion that seemed to radiate from him. It was infectious and invigorating.
As you sat at the dining table, picking at the delectable dishes laid in front of you, the two of you started talking, about everything and nothing. You discussed everything from poetry to life choices, the conversation flowing naturally, almost effortlessly, as if you had known each other for years.
And then, eventually, he brought up his wife and the fact that, on the morning of this very same day, he had phoned his lawyer.
"I am filing for divorce," he confessed with a solemnity that turned the atmosphere heavy with a looming sense of foreboding. "I just can't do it anymore," he sighed heavily but with a hint of excitement in his voice. 
His words hung in the air, weighty and inevitable. You sipped from your wine glass, feeling a sudden chill seize you. 
"Please tell me that it's not because of me," you demanded, your voice wavering slightly.
"No," he reassured you, grabbing your hand across the table. "It's just...I can't pretend anymore. I can't keep pretending that I love her when I don't and, after all she has done to me over the years, I am certain that, leaving her, is what I need in order to be happy," he confessed.
His words pierced your heart, and you felt a sense of guilt creeping up inside you. Despite his reassurance, you couldn't deny the fact that you had somehow played a significant role in the end of Cillian and his wife's relationship, although it wasn't intentional. Your affair had started off as a simple short-lived escape from reality for both of you, but now that you confessed your feelings for one another, it was much more than that.
"What are you thinking?" Cillian asked, his voice soft and soothing.
"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't deny the guilt you felt over what was happening. "She might try to ruin your career," you warned, causing Cillian to nod.
"I know, but like I said, I cannot keep going like this," he confessed. "Life is too short, and I refuse to let her dictate how I should live mine."
You both fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the situation soaking in. The thought of Cillian's name being dragged through the mud was unbearable - even if you felt confident that he was making the right decision.
"What about us?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Will there ever be an 'us'?" you wanted to know, causing Cillian to gaze at you, his intense blue eyes meeting your own.
"I want there to be an 'us' Y/N," he affirmed, squeezing your hand. "But I have to take care of this first," he explained, a solemn expression crossing his face. "And to tell you the truth, I do not know how I would ever explain this to Max," Cillian sighed, seeing that until just a year ago you were dating him, his very own son.
"I know. It seems like an impossible situation," you agreed, a twinge of sadness creeping into your voice. "But once you finalise your divorce, we may be able to come up with a plan to address this," you told him, a determined glint in your eyes.
Cillian nodded solemnly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"I could not possibly ask you to wait for me, Y/N. You are young and deserve better than someone like me, who comes with baggage," Cillian admitted, a look of regret flashing across his handsome features as the weight of his words settled between them.
"Cillian, I am in love with you," you declared before taking in a deep breath. "And it's not something that I thought would happen when we started sleeping with each other, but it did," you confessed with all the sincerity you could muster. "So, I think me waiting for you to sort out this mess might be worthwhile. Despite, we can still go on like this, in secret, for the time being," you suggested, your voice hopeful.
Cillian's eyes lit up, his surprise palpable. "You'd do that for me?"
"I would," you replied, a determined expression on your face. "But only if you promise that we will work towards something real after all this is over."
"I promise," he assured you, cupping your cheek before placing a tender kiss on your lips. The promise of a future together was exhilarating, yet tinged with uncertainty. You knew it would not be easy, but the thought of being with Cillian - of sharing yourself fully with him - made the struggle worthwhile.
After you finished your meal and settled on the sofa together, the hours crept towards midnight. The two of you were cocooned in a blanket of warmth, your legs tangled together as you shared stories of your lives.
You relished in the opulence of his penthouse suite, the skyline of London bathed in an ethereal glow as the city lulled to sleep outside. The sounds of the city seemed to fade away until only the gentle hum of his heater filled the silence. Your head rested on Cillian's chest, lulled into a peaceful trance by the steady beat of his heart.
You glanced up at the clock, noticing the time had slipped past the midnight hour. Reluctantly, you detangled yourself from him and stood up.
"I should get going," you mumbled, stifling a yawn. "Early start tomorrow."
Cillian grabbed your hand, his face unreadable in the dim light. "Can't I convince you to stay?"
You hesitated, the desire to spend the night beside him battling with the responsibilities that awaited you in the morning. 
"I guess I could get to work straight from here," you mused aloud, glancing up as a sly grin spread across Cillian's face. He tugged gently at your hand, pulling you towards him and trapping you within the circle of his arms.
"Good, then stay," he murmured, nuzzling your hair.
A sigh escaped your lips and you leaned into his embrace, feeling as though you could remain in this moment for an eternity. 
"Okay," you agreed, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. "But only if you promise me something," you declared, looking him directly in the eyes.
"Anything," he vowed, his voice low and ragged with desire.
"You will let me sleep," you giggled. "No fooling around," you commanded, your voice barely audible.
Cillian merely chuckled at your words, kissing the top of your head affectionately. "How about a little more fooling around and then I will let you go to sleep," he teased, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.
"Hmm, not fair," you whispered, closing your eyes and loving the sensation of his lips on your sensitive ear.
He placed his hand underneath your chin, tilting it upwards slightly. His lips found yours in a soft kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance, the taste of wine still on his tongue as it danced with yours. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you.
Despite your exhaustion, your body immediately responded to his touch, a slow burn working its way through your veins as arousal built within you.
"I am going to be sore tomorrow, won't I?" you joked, pulling back from his embrace and smiling up at him.
Cillian chuckled softly, his arms still wrapped around your waist. "That's the idea. I want you to remember this moment tomorrow, so you know how much I want you," he admitted, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
You shivered, your body aching for his touch, but your mind still tried to resist, knowing that the morning would soon be upon you.
"The sheer thought of being tired and sore from having been fucked by you all night is quite the turn on," you said, biting your lower lip in anticipation.
"Oh, yeah? That's good to know," Cillian murmured, capturing your lip between his teeth for a playful nibble.
His hands slid up your back, lifting the hem of your shirt and caressing the bare skin beneath. You gasped, your body tingling with anticipation.
His t-shirt came off next, revealing his toned but slim frame and the smattering of freckles across his shoulders.
You couldn't help but trace the line of freckles with your fingers, savoring the feeling of his bare skin against yours.
Cillian then captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth.
You yielded to him, allowing yourself to become lost in the passion of the moment. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath your fingertips.
Despite your earlier reservations, your body begged for more. Each brush of his skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His cock hardened against your leg, the sensation making you gasp and, by this point, you were so engrossed within each other that you didn't realize that Max had walked through the front door.
"What the fuck!" Max exclaimed, his eyes widening in horror as he realized the scene that was unfolding before him after his mother had sent him to Cillian's apartment to get something for her, knowingly, claiming that his father wasn't home. 
To be continued...
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cottondo · 3 months
Text
ONESHOT | Alastor x reader ; turmoil
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theme: angst, contains spoilers
Blood was everywhere, the sky was beaming, and you were desperate to breathe your last breath, fighting ‘till the end. The fate of the hotel was depending on your hands, along with the help of many others below you.
When you first went over the plans with the gang, Alastor was said to be the one taking care of Adam. You personally didn’t like the idea so much, but you weren’t in any position to tell him what to do. It was settled, and that was that.
Alastor could handle himself, and most times he never showed to be any worry to himself. He knew what he was doing- -
But a feeling in your gut told you that something was wrong.
You look up to the top of the hotel, green flashes and bright lights of white streak back and forth within the sky. It was too hard to focus on what was going on below you, because you were too worried about the bright flash you just seen from above.
Something was wrong. You were only one floor down from him, you could make it.
As you run to the crumbling stairs of the hotel, you race the clock with each step until you make it to the rooftop.
Dammit, just for this once you wished you were wrong.
Alastor sat with his back against the wall, smile managing to linger, but you could tell, even through the grin, that his face was scrunched in a sort of discomfort.
With wide eyes, and a racing heart, you watch as he struggles for a moment to stand; eyes glancing down at his broken staff. It was held close to him in his lap, hand gripping it tightly as he collapsed back down to sitting.
Oh, shit.
You run over to him, body frantic and breath hitching. “A-Are you,” there was a struggle to get the words out of your mouth for a moment as he glanced up at you, “are you okay—?”
You kneel down at his side and gently graze his arm, taking the moment to look him over.
“Worrying about someone else during an extermination, seems a little.. selfish.” He cracks a grin up at you, eye wincing.
You just wanted to cradle him- - but you couldn’t. It was so out of character to see him so . . helpless? Hurt? Struggling?
“You look like you’ve seen better days yourself, sweetheart.” He cracks a brighter grin at you, eyes glancing to the blood and small gashes that trace your figure.
You didn’t even notice them anymore. You’d been too worried about Alastor to bother caring what the pain felt like.
“I’lll be fine.” You quickly brush off the conversation to focus on his body instead. Your hand gently trails up his arm to his shoulder, where he cringed ever so slightly under your touch. “Sorry,” you cringe down at him in sympathy. His eyes glance around above you, seeing other angels and demons flying, attacking.
He didn’t need anybody to see him like this- - Hurting meant weakness, and that just couldn’t be allowed.
“Quite a fight going on down there,” he mused you, growing more anxious at your touch on his skin. You were only looking for wounds, eyes frantically grazing his torn red suit.
“Al,” you mumble with a glare, meeting his eyes.
The radio demon manages to struggle to a bent knee, pushing your touch away with gentle hands. You sit and hold position as Alastor works on trying to stand to his feet. After a minute of watching him struggle, you reach out to help, but get shooed away instead.
“I’m fine!” He snaps, looking at you with an irritated smile. That stung a little, but you understood his reasonings. You only sigh with a look away, deflating a little as you sat back on your knees.
Once finally up, he wraps an arm around his torso, holding the pain in, bent over. Anxiously, you rise to your feet, and again, offer a hand for support. Alastor stares at it for a moment before finally deciding to take it.
You liked that feeling, his hand in yours.
You help him walk forward, taking the broken staff from his hand, and allowing his weight to fall more towards you.
Alastor’s head was lowered, as if ashamed, like a dog who had just done something wrong in front of an owner. You hear a mumbled little, “Sorry.” With a weak smile.
“It’s okay.” You smile weakly at him, taking a few steps at a time. “I’m here.”
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emeraldkays · 6 months
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hi! if you have the time or feel up to it, can you do headcanons for Loki when he has a crush on the reader? thank you! your work is great!
hiya !! of course i can ☺️ and thank you soo much, that means a lot to me :) (also sorry for responding late x)
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮
it took loki a while to realise that he had a crush on you.
he had trouble accepting it and distanced himself from you, which you didn't mind because you knew what he was like and just assumed he wanted some time alone.
but it only lasted for a few weeks.
when he returned you noticed a few things that seemed off about him.
while he was still relaxed, you could tell that he seemed a little on edge at times, like he was afraid of something happening.
he took an interest in your hobbies that he had previously told you he hated, and when you confronted him about it he'd get all flustered and say he'd like to try them out again.
and his smiles seemed genuine, which wasn't a bad thing, but it definitely wasn't a loki thing either.
but you weren't complaining. you actually began to enjoy his company more than you had before.
he'd go above and beyond to make you laugh when you were feeling down and was always there when you needed someone to talk to.
he made you feel like you were the most important person in his life most of the time.
if it wasn't for the fact that he hated midgardians so much, you would have thought he had a (tiny) crush on you.
he bought and made you gifts often which you felt bad about.
you saw how hurt he looked when you told him that you didn't want his gifts.
"they're lovely and I'm more than grateful, but i've already got the only gift i want, and that's having a friend like you."
he thought you were lying at first, but when you hugged him, the warmth that wrapped around him felt too real to be a lie.
the time he had spent making you gifts were now spent with you, getting to know you better and allowing himself to open up to you.
he never planned on telling you that he had a crush on you because he'd rather have you as a friend than to deal with heartache on top of everything else.
however, he did accidentally end up admitting it to thor during a drunken conversation between the two, but thor swore he wouldn't tell anyone, and he didn't...for a week or so.
thor in a drunken state again at one of tony's parties told you how much you meant to loki and threatened to hurt you if you hurt him.
as much as you thought thor was just drunkenly rambling, his threat certainly did not sound empty and the way he had been acting suddenly made sense.
you went to go and find loki right after and told him what thor had told you moments ago.
you weren't quite sure how you were expecting him to react, but tear-filled eyes was not on the radar.
"why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want things to be awkward between us," he mumbled looking down at his feet to hide his face.
you playfully rolled your eyes at his excuse, "they wouldn't have been,"
"and how could you possibly know that?"
"because I like you too."
he looked up at you in disbelief, unable to control the tear rolled down his face, because for the first time in a long time (or ever), he might have finally got exactly what he wanted.
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petrssecrethideout · 5 months
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I'd hoped I would get at least a few days of peace after having to move back in with my dad, but within a few hours I heard honking outside the house. I waited for it to die down as I unpacked my stuff, before going outside to see the one person I couldn't face.
I knew Hunter better than anyone, but now i barely recognized him. the man in front of me had hundreds of pounds on the man I left, his bulk replaced with cut muscle. He had grown a beard too, changed his haircut. He looked so good it made my stomach turn.
"Took you long enough," Hunter said, lounging in his truck bed. I could see the flare of his lats even as he relaxed. "What the hell were you doing?"
"Unpacking," I said trying not to show any guilt or discomfort "What do you want?"
Hunter responded by tapping the tailgate, a motion that just meant to come sit down. I did without thinking, just like i had seen him do for me. It was the most common thing we used to do, besides almost get caught fucking. It was just nice to... talk.
Now, I could feel the body heat radiating off of him as I leaned back against his arm, feeling his bicep against my back. I'd never been so close to so much muscle in my life. I was in awe, mostly just confused on how it happened. I looked down to see his shorts, the only thing he was wearing, were much shorter than I was used to. He used to be afraid of wearing anything that cut off above the knee, too afraid of "looking gay". He must've changed a lot.
"So, how have you been?"
"Pretty good," Hunter said his accent just as thick as ever. "I got a job down at the the steel factory that pays pretty well, and I'm going to the gym again. I think I might be the biggest guy there now."
"I'll say! How the hell did that happen?" I exclaimed.
"Well," Hunter "One of my buddies told me about this Mutant Juice stuff, and I just thought it was some kinda hoax, but it was fucking crazy. Expensive as hell, but I think I'm getting my money's worth. I thought I'd just stop after a round or two, but at this point I think I'm just gonna keep growing until it stops working. Just get real fucking big, bigger than anyone else around here. Maybe I could even be on the ads for this stuff, flexing all of this muscle wearing almost nothing. I think I'd look pretty good like that, don't you?"
He knew what he was doing, and it was working. I needed to feel him, to hold him, to rip those shorts off and just have him again, but something still stopped me.
"You like all of these muscles?" Hunter said, reading my expression. He slowly bounced his pecs. "You always did stare at me a lot. God, did I love it. Still do. Something about the looks you give makes me feel like a fucking beast."
I could feel my dick straining my pants, begging for release. I couldn't do that, not yet. I had to find something else to talk about.
"How's your family?" I asked, veering the conversation away form anything too horny.
the words poured out of my mouth, but it immediately got Hunter to stop bouncing his pecs. Something in his expression changed, he looked... pissed.
"We haven't talked in almost a year. After you left without a word I told them, and... it didn't go well. I got a place of my own after a while." Hunter said
"You weren't..." I could feel my own heart shattering. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. I was the weird one, the freak. His life was perfectly mapped out, just like all of the men around here that had come before him. A decent job, a christian marriage, kids before 25. He had a happy life ahead of him, and I selfishly ruined that.
"I didn't stop being gay when you left. Even if that's what you wanted." Hunter said, his voice filled with a cold anger. "I was just...alone."
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I tried to blink them away, before I felt his arm wrap around me and pull me towards his torso. the feeling of being in a hug of his was enough to get me to cry.
"I missed you." I said.
"I missed you too." Hunter replied as he sniffled from crying. "Y'know, for someone so smart I don't know why you sent that letter. Dear Hunter, I love you, I'll never forget the time we had, but please forget about me. I can't ruin your life. What the hell did you think was gonna happen?"
"I was trying to be all poetic, and self-sacrificial, and... yeah it was bullshit but I thought I was corrupting you. I still kind of do."
"You ain't doing shit. All you did was help me figure out who I actually wanted to be, which is gay and fuckin' massive. I'm just glad I can finally do both of those things now without anyone telling me I can't."
My head nuzzled into his neck as I thought about the man I was currently holding growing even larger. My hands couldn't even fully reach around his back as it was, what was I going to do if It got even wider?
"I'm glad to have you back, even if it won't be forever." Hunter said.
"Maybe next time you could come with me?" I asked, a question I knew would get shot down the last time we talked. He loved his family, and his hometown too much to ever leave, but he had changed a lot since I left.
"Sure. we'll do it together."
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ladyempty · 3 days
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Yan!Daemon Targaryen x Lady!Reader
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| !English is not my first language! |
Power was Daemon's greatest motivation for living. The growing desire for more, eager to have more power, more influence, the pulsing, anesthetic adrenaline that clouded his mind making him act recklessly. Always living by emotion, almost never by reason.
Consequently, the Iron Throne and her parental rights were at the top of her list. Above anyone. It just felt right, he had helped Viserys rise to power, partly because he loved his brother, and partly because he liked being so close to the throne as Viserys' unofficial heir.
Daemon thought for years that having the throne for himself would be the greatest happiness he could achieve.
His teenage niece was key to his personal achievement. Of course, he thought Rhaenyra was beautiful, witty, passionate and fun. In addition to the burning desire that they both had along with the passion.
But nothing prepared him for the overwhelming, knockout feeling that would hit him with the speed of an arrow when he met you.
The moment the bright purple eyes of malice and mockery landed on his majestic figure, At the banquet organized to celebrate his niece's wedding, a burning fire rose through his body, infiltrating his bowels until it settled in his heart.
Daemon was not religious, he just believed, without much faith, in the Valerian gods. But upon seeing you, he was sure that a higher being sculpted you for his attention and temptation. Made for your eyes to analyze and admire.
From one minute to the next, the throne was a distant thought and Rhaenyra was just a momentary feeling, even superficial compared to what he felt so quickly and overwhelmingly for you.
He wanted you. Now. This instant. And Daemon had never been so happy and relieved to have gotten rid of his first wife as at that moment.
Yes, the first, because you would be the second.
The rogue Prince didn't like the color green, he abhorred the color with a fervent hatred, largely because of Otto, But he found the soft green dress you were wearing at the moment very pleasant. But a blood red dress would be even better.
His cunning eyes were fixed on you without any shame or shame. So intense and fun that he seems to see through your dress, undressing you in his thoughts far beyond simple clothes, he wanted to see beyond your soul.
And when Daemon Targaryen wanted something. He conquered. And not even his father's half-closed gaze could stop him, it just made him open a feline, predatory smile on his thin lips, a glimpse of his white teeth.
That same night, at that same banquet, Daemon decided to start pulling strings. As soon as the bride and groom's dance ended and the lords and ladies were able to gather in the center of the room to dance, Daemon was fast, moving carefully through the crowd of people, his eyes fixed on you as his calloused hand quickly snaked around your waist, pulling you close, almost against his chest, and smiled mockingly at the other lord. Saving the image of his face for a little visit later.
"Sorry, but I spotted it first." Daemon quickly pulled you away from the man, and didn't pay attention to any protests you might have while helping your body to dance.
After that, it didn't take long for the man's invasive procession.
The prince's intimidating presence was constant, almost a cunning shadow moving carefully until he found you, attracted like a magnet, starting conversations that were always more intimate than they should be, always deeper and with jokes and manners that were far from gentlemanly. Of course he had already investigated everything he could about you, but he liked it when you told him. His sweet voice softly entering your ears.
After the initial step, they saw the gifts, countless gifts with the intention of gaining favor and marking a territory that was no longer public. The countless red and black dresses,Valyrian steel pendants with heavy ruby stones, earrings and bracelets. All to mark you as a dragon and no longer a sheep. Just tell him what you want and he will gladly give it to you. And you can't ignore or reject their gifts.
The third step was to try to instill a certain fascination in you with ancient valyria. He will ascend to the heavens together with you holding tightly to his breastplate the moment he presented Caraxes to you. He would spend long hours talking about his victories and the superintendent of the Targaryens, after all they were closer to men than to the Gods. And would definitely smile broadly if you showed any interest. If you didn't seem intrigued or even upset, well, that's funny... Do you think you have choices?
Daemon is beyond possessive and jealous. This man is completely insane and has no hesitation in seriously harming or killing anyone he deems a threat. You are his. Why doesn't this get into other people's heads?
He doesn't want to lose you. Not that Daemon Targaryen thinks he can be replaced, but you know, they tried to attract or divert you from your path. And he won't allow it.
He wants you to trust him. Depending on him. He wants you to give yourself body and soul just to him.
And the wedding didn't take long to arrive. Don't you want to marry him? This is a shame because you will be his wife, have his heirs and be touched and admired only by his hands.
You should have already learned. You have no choice.
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erikatsu · 6 months
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A MILLION DREAMS — WRIOTHESLEY
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ᥫ᭡ SUMMARY: A walk around the Court of Fontaine with Wriothesley leads to an unexpected conversation.
ᥫ᭡ PAIRING: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
ᥫ᭡ WARNINGS: Fluff. Mentions of starting a family/having kids. Self-ship coded. SFT but minors, ageless, and blanks following will be blocked. 20+ to follow.
ᥫ᭡ WC: 1.2K
❥ SERIES MASTERLIST
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The warmth of the sun was a feeling that you had missed. The sounds of bustling shops and people chatting amongst themselves as you walked by them felt like home. You didn’t realize you had a void you needed filled until breathing in the fresh air. The nostalgia was overwhelming and you longed to be back on the open road with your show. Instead you settled on reminiscing as you walked the streets, your arm linked with Wriothesley’s.
The two of you got a lot of looks as you made your way towards the aquabus station. Your faces weren’t familiar, and whispers from those curious told you they were slowly piecing it together. At least, they managed to figure out who Wriothesley was. You were thankful though, since you didn’t want to be recognized. It would be rather hard to explain how you managed to escape death, after all. While everyone that mattered was now aware of your status, you could comfortably walk around Fontaine without worry of being arrested as a fugitive. There were loopholes in laws, and while you may not have reclaimed your honor in your duel, you weren’t able to fight for the same crime twice, nor could you be tried for it.
The walk around town was well needed, Wriothesley deciding to escort you. You weren’t sure if he wanted to be able to stop you from being a menace to society or if he was caught up on his work and genuinely wanted to join you. He never left the Fortress, only doing so if he absolutely had to or if children were somehow involved. You didn’t question it, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to spend time in the open with him.
The aquabus ride was calming, listening to the melusine guide point out what was what along the short trip. Part of you was sad that you were on the way back, but another part knew that you wouldn’t change how things were now. If not for the man beside you, you’d have been back above the surface a lot sooner.
It was funny to think how much he had changed for you. Years ago, you never would have found yourself finding a real place to call home other than the circus. You never would have the belief system or outlooks that you did now. Settling down, starting over… well, the sound of that filled you with more joy than one last hoorah. You could also appreciate the irony of being born for the spotlight, yet belonging to the shadows– behind the scenes.
“You know, I haven’t come to the Fountain of Leuciene before, but I have heard the tales,” you remarked as you approached the said topic choice. “If I had visited back then I would have wished for better turn out or for more tour opportunities. A normal, successful life was not something I had ever pictured for myself.”
He was intrigued by your words, “You think the life in Fortress is a normal way of life?”
“Your Grace, I do believe I get to put on a show for you everyday, do I not?” you teased, causing a soft chuckle to slip past his lips. “Aside from that, the Fortress has much potential. For some, this is all they have. After serving their sentences they lived like normal people in a normal world. Some even finding love here. I think it’s as normal of a place to live as anywhere else. But maybe I don’t understand because I’ve never had a normal life before.”
“Not even in your childhood?” Wriothesley sounded slightly surprised. He wasn’t sure how the House of the Hearth worked. He just knew it was Fontaine’s biggest orphanage and he’d never had the pleasure of being inside.
You shook your head, “My training started two days after I had been brought in from Snezhnaya. Fighting, dancing, espionage, you name it. I was never given an opportunity to ever think about a life outside of it– having a normal job, falling in love, starting a family? I was expected to carry out my orders and devote myself to the Tsaritsa and her cause. None of that has ever been within my reach before.”
“I’ve never pictured someone like you living what some could consider to be a normal life,” he commented, coming to a stop in front of the fountain. “Jokes aside, I didn’t know children was something you wanted.”
You shrugged, looking at all the coins that littered the bottom of the fountain, “They’re not off the table. Like I said, it’s just not something I’ve ever been allowed to think of before. Let’s just say, if it happens it happens.”
Wriothesley wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t even want to keep a pet in the Fortress, thinking it was unfair if not cruel to keep them away from Teyvat’s offerings such as sunlight and green grass to play in. The Fortress definitely was not, in his opinion, a place for children. Honestly, while he did have a soft spot for kids he was terrified of his own. Apart from where lived, the only parents he had ever know were bad people. Of course, he had worked through most of that during his time as a prisoner but he didn’t want to chance any lasting trauma he may have subconsciously buried.
You could tell he was a bit unsettled, but you yourself still weren’t decided. There was a lot that went into a decision such as this other than desire. It had taken you a long time as a child to learn trust and love. It had taken you even longer to open your heart to a deeper, more intimate form of both. Being able to do that for life you created... that was scary.
You looked up at Wriothesley, gently placing your hand on his arm, “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Before bringing a little fish into this world, she needs a better ocean to swim in. Besides the prophecy looming over our heads, I’m not sure if marriage is right for me.”
“Well, you’re certainly full of surprises today,” he jested, unlinking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulder. “Marriage isn’t a necessity for children. Steps can be done backwards to, which is fitting since you never seem to stay inside the box of normalcy. On a serious note, if we did decide to have one, it would be a boy.”
“Sounds to me like there’s really only one sure way to find out who’s right, my dear,” you laughed, reaching into your pocket and grabbing a mora coin. “To all our dreams.”
He watched as you tossed the coin into the fountain, a small smile on his face. He was no stranger to sacrifices, to giving one thing up in sake of the other. Letting go of his worries for the sake of happiness was a form of sacrifice that he’d never pictured having to do. Then again also he’s found himself in quite a few situations he didn’t forsee thanks to you. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done the same for him.
He placed a gentle kiss on top of your head before saying, “I guess we shouldn’t waste any time then.”
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lovelybrooke · 11 months
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My Forgotten Love (Yandere BOTW x reader)
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Link often wonders if he's better off without his memories.
As he explores across the distant land of Hyrule, he's constantly bombarded with echoes of the past, of the person he once was.
He was a hero, a knight who wields the master sword, the sword that seals the darkness. He protected the princess of Hyrule, the one who carries the power of the Triforce of wisdom. He was strong, courageous, brave. Thats what everyone told him anyway.
He never felt strong, courageous, or brave. In fact, he was afraid most of the time. Afraid of dying, afraid of his past, afraid of what lies ahead of him once his journey is over. He was always somewhat afraid, but as the last protector of Hyrule, there was no place for fear. So, he buried it all down, never acknowledging it, in the hope it would disappear.
The fear bubbled up and almost spilled out of him when he found an abandoned house near castle town that caused his head to spin. It was lonely, Link would've missed it if it wasn't for the pain it caused. it was small, only a single person could've lived there, but it felt homey, and strangely warm as he walked inside. It was a single room decorated with a desk, bed, and fireplace, a pot hanging above it. The walls were covered n maps, notes, and other little writings that were worn to time.
The desk was in the far corner of the room, a single, unlabeled book, on top of it. It called to him, like a distant friend you haven't seen in a while, filling his body up with warmth that drowned out the pain he previously felt. His body moved on its own, quickly opening it up, reading note that was attached inside the back of the cover.
"(Y/N) (L/N)'s personal diary. Please do not read if your name if Purah or Robbie."
(Y/N). (Y/N)? Why does his chest hurt when he reads the name? Ignoring it, he flipped the page, absorbing the words on the page.
Entry 1:
"I don't know how to start this. Purah had suggested starting a diary log to record my day to day. Why you ask? I never got a straight answer from her. Purah's like that, bringing things up quickly and dropping them just as fast. Either way, I guess recording my thoughts isn't that bad. As long as it gets, Purah off my back for a while, I'll do whatever she asks. Speaking of Purah, Impa (her younger sister), recommended her to the Princess to study the recently excavated Shaikah tech. Is it bad to say I'm jealous?
Entry 2:
Purah can definitely tell I'm jealous. Maybe she's been reading my diary? I don't know. It might be because I'm kinda avoiding her, but it's only because I've been busy with my studies, nothing else. Either way, she's been talking nonstop to me and Robbie about her studies of the shrines. Speaking of Robbie, Purah put him in charge of the guardians, which he seems very eager about. It was then when I asked her if I could help out. She didn't give a straight answer, like always, but I could tell she was holding something bad, like she was thinking heavily about something.
Entry 3:
I'm very excited! Purah came to me and said she talked to the Princess, and she agreed to let me study the Divine Beasts! I could barely contain my happiness; I ran write home to start writing this (sorry about my handwriting). I plan on thanking Purah properly after I meet the Princess. Apparently, she'll bring me up to speed on somethings I need to know about the Beasts before boarding them. I'm just so excited, I need to take a nap before I write off this page.
Entry 4:
Princess Zelda was very kind, but that was to be expected. She was more than happy to listen to my hypothesis about the Divine Beasts. She was accompanied by her sworn protector, Link. He was, quiet, to say the least. He didn't really, do that much, just listened to our conversations quietly. It was sort of awkward, but I got over it quickly. It was weird though, it felt like his gaze was on me more than it was on the Princess. Even when I left, his stare was almost imprinted on me. Maybe it was my fault, probably. Anyway, on the Princess's request, I'll be traveling to the Devine Beasts with him. I won't be able to write then, so see you soon!
Entry 5:
I'm happy to be home. The journey around Hyrule took a little over a month, and it was very tiresome. There's lots to talk about. Firstly, I met the Champions, at least most of them. I was unable to meet Daruk, Champion of Vah Rudania. Death Mountain is too dangerous for Hylians, and it would be dangerous to bring it down the mountain. Hopefully I'll get to meet him soon, I've heard a lot of great things about him. The other Champions were great, well most of them. Revali, Champion of Vah Medoh was...very boastful. He talked a lot, mostly about himself. But I guess I would be boastful if I could pilot a Devine Beast.
I think I got closer with Link. I say think because it was really hard to tell. It took a while to get him to talk, he was silent most of the time I tried. It got to the point where I just talked about everything, just so I wouldn't have to sit in silence. Eventually, when he reached Zora's domain, he started to talk. It was sparce, but he would talk about what life was like as a child. I learned he liked to cook (his cooking is very good). He also let me talk about my findings and while it was obvious he didn't understand most of it, it was nice for him to listen to me.
I had a really great time. I hope Link did too.
Entry 6:
I think I'm being watched. Zelda has been requesting my appearance at Hyrule Castle more and more, I practically live there. Every time I step foot there, I can't help but feel like someone is watching me. I never bring it up, since I'm with the princess most of the time and I don't want to bother her. I have some ideas on who it could be, but no concrete answers. I sometimes catch Revali staring at me whenever he has business at the castle, but even when he's not there, I can feel someone's eyes on me. Honestly, I think Revali might just be hung up on me visiting Vah Medoh with one of his least favorite people (sorry Link). There's also one of the men within Hyrule's royal guard, I believe his name was Thomas. He’s pretty shy, but he had a bunch of questions about my research. We talked for a while before I was pulled away by the princess and Link. Speaking of Link, he’s been a little on edge lately, especially with the other members of the guard. He says it because they’re “distracted”. He’s even become a little, clingy? I don’t know, it’s probably just my imagination, I’m going to bed.
Entry 7:
I haven’t seen Thomas in a while. He hasn’t shown up to the castle in weeks. Link said he was slacking off and he got what he deserved, honestly it was kinda scary. I even brought it up to the princess, but she really didn’t seem to care. I hope he’s okay.
Honestly, I haven’t seen really anyone in a while. Since Zelda is nearing her 17th birthday, she’s been up at the shrine of wisdom trying to awaken her powers. Link has been with her, same with the champions, and Purah and Robbie have been busy with preparing for Ganon. It’s been really stressful, all I can really do is try to help them, and pray to Hylia that everything turns out okay.
The rest of the pages, which are slightly burn and blank, fill Link with dread. You were someone he knew, someone he cared for, someone he loved, how could he forget you? This journal is the only thing he has to remember yoh by, and it makes him want to lay down and die. Out of all the people in all of Hyrule, why wasn’t he able to protect you. This was his fault.
Link doesn’t acknowledge the tears that runs down his face as he pockets the journal with immense care so to not damage it. He doesn’t wipe them from his face as he leaves the house that brought him a fleeting sense of comfort and warmth. And Link doesn’t flinch as the tears continue to steam and hit the grown as he walk away, heading towards Hateno.
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justmeinadaze · 7 months
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Can you write a short little thing about steddie x reader’s early mornings? Reader is asleep in the middle of Eddie and Steve and they have soft conversations across her body while she’s still asleep and eventually they move above her head and start kissing each other and that’s how reader wakes up, smushed between her two loves
A/N: I started writing a side thing but for some reason this felt right in the Good Neighbors / We're a Family universe.
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Warnings: Mentions of smut (very light), more fluff then anything, slight angst (mentions of their ex)
Word Count: 860
Steve wakes up early to the sound of Eddie snoring on the opposite side of you. He can’t help but chuckle wondering how in the hell you can still sleep so soundly with that noise echoing so close to your ear. He imagines your answer would be the same as his; you can’t sleep without it. 
When they were merely roommates and slept in different rooms, Steve slept alright but he realized he slept even better with you three together. When Eddie used to work late at the shop before he owned it, he would wake up every other hour until the metalhead finally came home because he felt like something was off. The truth was, there wasn’t that constant drumming of his snores to comfort Steve reminding him that, yes, this is my reality and my husband and wife are still here with me. 
After tenderly kissing your shoulder, he reaches over to brush some of Eddie’s wild mess of hair away from his face. Steve had always thought his friend was handsome and not just because physically he was so fucking gorgeous but because he always had a beautiful heart. Even when Emily was berating him, he would still come with flowers and an apology hoping to smooth everything over so things would go back to the way they were. 
It still made him angry thinking about how she told him she would never have one of his kids and the way Steve saw his heart break through his eyes. He would never mention it now but after Aurora was born the thought made him even angrier. To him, just like with Dylan and James, he felt she was perfect. She had all of Eddie’s best qualities and watching them together always made his heart melt. To think that their ex wanted to deprive him of this kind of happiness…
“Hmmm…Steve?” Eddie’s eyes blink open at the sound of the other man’s low growl and heavy sigh. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just someone’s snoring woke me up.”
“Hm. I know. Y/N can sound like a lawn mower.” He closed his eyes again pretending to go back to sleep as he listened to Steve laugh. He loved that sound especially so early in the morning. “What were you thinking about that made you sigh like that?”
“You.”
The metalhead’s eyes opened again as he adjusted his head so he could see his husband more clearly. 
“Anything in particular?”
“What happened that last night we were with Emily.”
“Steven Elizabeth Harrington.”, he exhaled as he rubbed his fingers into his eyes. 
“That is not my middle name, Edward.”, he chuckles. “I just remember how much she hurt you and I’m thinking about how fucking ignorant she was because look how wonderful Ro is.”
“Shhhhh…”, the other man reaches out to lightly cover Steve’s mouth. “Don’t want to wake up Y/N with all you angsty morning thoughts.”
Covering his hand with his own, he gently kisses his palm before sliding it further over towards his cheek. 
“I just love you, baby, so much. I don’t know what or where I would be without you.”
Eddie’s soft eye’s scan over his before leaning over to kiss his lips. Just like Steve, he always found his friend attractive. I mean, who wouldn’t think King Steve Harrington is sexy as hell? He, honestly, never thought he had any kind of chance with him so he was perfectly alright with at least being close friends. Emily had suggested there was a spark between them but he just thought it was because they were best friends but when you mentioned it as well those old feelings began bubbling up again. 
That day when you were neighbors during Dylan’s birthday party and had gotten into a fight they fumed in their apartment before laying together on the floor in the living room just talking about everything while smoking a joint. Eddie finally made that first move and when his lips touched his own…it felt right. When Steve’s mouth wrapped around his cock he saw stars and after he came they held each other and he never wanted him to let him go.
“I love you to, sweetheart.”
As their kisses grew more passionate, they pressed closer together with you in the middle, groaning awake at the feeling of their hips grinding on either side of you. 
“It is 6am, you weirdos.”
They laugh as Steve looks at his watch while Eddie’s kisses trail down his trail line. 
“Jesus, woman, how do you know that? Your eyes aren’t even open.”
“I’m a mom. I know everything.”, you grumble as you wrap your arms around the metalhead’s waist and kiss his bare chest before nuzzling into its warmth. His hand comes down to pet the back of your head as Steve scoots closer to you, his own palm roaming under your shirt to your breasts making you moan. 
“If it’s 6 am, that means we have a good hour before anyone wakes up.”
“More than enough time.” 
Eddie grins causing you to giggle and playfully moan in pain as he tugs Steve closer to him by squishing you between them.
###########
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wolven91 · 7 months
Text
Beginner's Luck
Did you know humans were lucky?
Ask any fik and they'll be able to tout any number of stories and anecdotes of how humans are not only lucky, but divinely so.
Brön, didn't put much stock into all that nonsense. As a male taurian, it was expected that he would know better. To not bother with superstition and focus on the real world. But he learnt that humans were lucky by sheer luck and a slip of the tongue by a human himself.
Luke was the first human Brön had come across in real life as an interaction. Not unusual given their rarity. At most the taurian had seen them on the news or waving from a secure area.
But as a taurian, and a registered guardian, when the human had appeared on his station, he had done his job as necessary. Brön wanted to make it clear that the taurians would be the best of the guardians. Ssypno weren't to be trusted and the ursidains were too stupid to know how to care for others.
So Brön escorted him round the station and ensured his safety whilst showing the sights, keeping to the finer areas. Humans were still critically endangered after all, one had to ensure they were safe, whilst giving them the enrichment they needed. Cute as humans were, Brön knew not to let his human out of his sight. Thankfully, Luke had made pleasant conversation that put Brön at ease. Luke didn't appear to be one of the mischievous humans.
Plenty of other guardians had gotten into trouble for allowing their human too much leeway and getting them sick or hurt. Mercifully, this Luke seemed to enjoy his wit and rather forward jokes. Brön had researched male humans after all and was told that they enjoyed the kind of humour their taurian women did. The taurian grinned listening to the human's belly laugh, it was so loud it echoed down the promenade, much to Brön's chagrin.
When they came across the gambling merchant, Luke had mentioned that he wouldn't mind putting on a wager. When Brön had asked why, the human merely turned to him and had said it was 'a vice'.
Brön watched as the human produced his stylus for interacting with the many touch screens of the modern day. Claws on ninety percent of the population meant that touching a screen directly usually earned the user a fine. The taurian watched the human curiously as he rubbed the stylus against his chest, before using it to select his choice of bet.
The human noticed Brön's quizzical eye ridge and grinned.
"For luck."
Brön thought nothing of this at first. Rubbing one's equipment did not make the object lucky or any action beyond what one can manipulate and better or worse. But as the pair watched the screens, a series of squidgits, each the size of a canid, race around a large track. The bet had been an odd choice, the human had picked an underdog for an upcoming race. The taurian noticed the human retrieve another item from his pocket, its morbid appearance held the prim and proper taurian's attention.
A set of keys connected by a single metal circle. Attached on the same loop, with a small, fluffy, taxidermized paw that he held tightly with his thumb. Again the human must have felt Brön's eyes boring into him as he leant to the side to whisper;
"For luck."
Damn Brön's horns, the human won.
Now. Brön was a male taurian so held himself to a high standard. But on learning the human enjoyed games of chance and luck, the taurian made enquiries into private card games where the human could play with others who enjoyed the same thing.
Brön grinned into his delicate drink at the bar whilst he watched his human be handled quiet easily by the ladies.
He was currently being held aloft in the middle of the barracks of the station far above Brön's head. A friend of his was currently celebrating her forth win at cards, whilst hold the human.
The group around the table groaned and threw their cards back onto the table, none beating the large lass's cards.
"This isn't fair! Let me hold him for the next hand!" demanded another tall, black furred taurian, one giant hand outstretched expectantly.
Luke was crushed into the current holder's chest as she held him tightly and protectively.
"Oh no no! He's my good luck charm! I have to keep him near me at aaall times..." she exclaimed in a sing-song tone. Luke didn't seem to be distressed or thrashing too much. The cad seemed to be enjoying the attention from Brön's position. Although the male did need to speak up a handful of times.
"You're suffocating my charge again."
Looking down, Brön was right and the taurian was, indeed, suffocating Luke against herself.
"Sorry! Sorry!"
Despite being slightly red in the face, Luke seemed in good spirits, laughing and extending his thumb skywards before demanding another hand and another drink.
They sat for another hand, Luke having his head rubbed by each of the taurian gamblers present for good luck.
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