Imagine Having This....forever. 💛

Imagine having this....forever. 💛

Imagine Having This....forever. 💛
Imagine Having This....forever. 💛
Imagine Having This....forever. 💛
Imagine Having This....forever. 💛
Imagine Having This....forever. 💛
Imagine Having This....forever. 💛
Imagine Having This....forever. 💛

...... take me in your arms pls

Imagine Having This....forever. 💛

More Posts from Character---obsessed and Others

3 years ago

Sirius x Reader

Prompt: 10. Where’s your shirt?

Warnings: light smut?

Sirius X Reader

“Y/n baby please, I’m desperate,” Sirius begged and you let out a laugh.

“Yeah well what else is new,”

“Ooh, she got you there Padfoot!” James hollered from a few feet away in the common room, to which Sirius ignored.

“Please I need your help, or I will fail this herbology test!”

“Alright, only because you asked so nicely,” you said with an eye roll.

“Thank you y/n, you’re a goddamn angel! Heaven on earth really,” Sirius said grabbing your hand kissing it. You couldn’t help but blush, and so you turned away.

“We should work someplace quieter, I’ll meet you in your dorm in 5 minutes.” You called over your shoulder, heading as quickly as you could up to your dorm to grab your books (and collect yourself).

You couldn’t see but Sirius didn’t take his eyes off you until you were out of sight. On his face was the giddiest smile. Meanwhile, you were trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. Calm down! It’s just Sirius, you joke around all the time! It’s not like anything is gonna happen between you guys, Sirius hits on anyone with a pulse, it doesn’t mean anything. Right?

You walked into his room, textbook in hand, to find Sirius leaning against his wall completely shirtless. You always thought he was cute, but quidditch had done him well. His lean body was now toned, with strong arms that were often covered under rolled up robes. You could see his deep v line poking out from his pants. His eyes lit up as you walked in and he smirked seeing you in the doorway.

Keep reading

3 years ago

the fjerdan & the kerch

kaz brekker x reader - the fjerdan & the kerch

summary: kaz and matthias butt heads over someone they both care for

warnings: roughly follows parts of the ice court plot, matthias x childhood best friend!reader, fjerdan!reader

word count: 2.5k

The Fjerdan & The Kerch

“Lucky for me, I’ve got another Fjerdan to confirm your information.”

As Y/N climbed the stairs to the deck, her palm sliding along the wooden railing, she could hear Kaz’s gritty voice booming from above. She’d joined the job at the last moment after a last ditch effort of begging Kaz to allow her to join. Of course he was hesitant bringing along someone so fresh, new and untested, but relying upon the intelligence of a Fjerdan fugitive was not something Dirtyhands wanted to do. And so here Y/N was, on a bobbing ship bound for the country she left so long ago.

“Don’t you trust me demjin?” The question was a snarl, one of an animal bound and caged, silently fearful of there being no escape in sight.

As Y/N stepped onto the main deck, light pouring over her form, she felt as though she were basking in the feeling of home. That rough accent traveling on the high sea winds was a jolting reminder of home, of the family she once had. Of the small village she’d once lived in, just a few miles from the coast, wedged between frozen rivers and thick pine forests. She could nearly smell the pine sap in the air, the chilling breeze seeping into her bones.

And as she opened her eyes, she swore she was hallucinating for a moment. Squinting at the blond burly man, she allowed her gaze to roam over his face. Those features were foreign yet so familiar. On the outside was a war hardened soldier, fighting for a country he blindly pledged loyalty too. Fighting too young. But underneath, Y/N could still peer at the little boy she had grown up beside. The lopsided grin on the squarely set jaw, now clenched so tightly he looked like he might snap his own teeth off. Ignoring the shaven head, she could still remember the wavy blond locks he’d had, that seemed to shine like gold during the summer months.

It was Matthias and somehow at the same time, not him at all.

Y/N stood frozen, simply staring at her childhood friend who stared back with a sense of disbelief. All she wanted to do was run to his side, fall to her knees, and hug him until her arms gave out. But she couldn’t. They weren’t little naive children anymore, running through a field of snow as reindeer migrated through the village. Their grubby hands no longer sought out freshly baked cookies on the countertops. She no longer braided her hair like her mother had done, no longer placed a ruby red ribbon in the braid like the one Matthias had given her.

Deep inside, Y/N knew they both changed that night the Grisha had struck their village. An eye for an eye seemed to be the one thing shared between drĂŒskelle and drĂŒsje. When her father had been struck down, heart stopped in his own chest, her mother had fled with Y/N’s hands in hers. Running far far away from that quaint village. Away from their cozy patchwork quilts, made of whatever pieces of spare fabric could be found at the time of their making. Away from the tiny cabin that had been their home, that had provided shelter during blizzards, warmth during the winters. Away from her father lying dead on the ground, eyes blankly staring up at the sky. Away from Matthias, wherever he was.

Staring into his eyes now, she knew something horrible had happened. The blues within his eyes had once reminded her of the spring melt, when clear blue water came streaming down from the snow-capped mountains. It was the sign of new life, of rebirth in Fjerda. Those soft blues were like the little tiny wildflowers that would sprout over the tundra, only to be grazed by horses or livestock. But now, there was no hint of softness in those blue irises. They were hard. Solid like ice that could run for miles underfoot. No matter how long you chiseled away, it was ice. Endless ice. That pale, nearly white, blue - unrelenting to any outside force.

“Y/N,” Matthias breathed out, barely audible over the howling winds.

But Kaz heard that single word, his hawk-like eyes flashing between the two Fjerdans. His jaw was set tight, muscles twitching every few seconds. “You two know each other?”

Nodding, Y/N took another step forward until she was standing by Kaz’s side, whose long coat flapped wildly in the wind like a large black sail, pushing them towards the icey country.

Matthias’s eyes stirred with something Y/N couldn’t quite place her finger on. Was it concern, a longing for their childhood, happiness over their reunion? And when she glanced at Kaz, she couldn’t describe his expression either. His dark eyes, like billowing storm clouds, seemed to swirl with anger, resentment
 jealousy even.

“We grew up together in Fjerda,” Y/N clarified, reminiscing with nearly a smile upon her face. “His house was just a few down from mine.”

“How do you know this demjin?” Matthias’s gaze bore into hers as he questioned her in Fjerdan, voice heavily laced with concern.

Heart thudding in her chest, Y/N fumbled over her own words. It felt wholly impossible to describe whatever her relationship was with the Bastard of the Barrel. It wasn’t friendship yet it also wasn’t more
 just that odd inbetween. Mutual appreciation?

In Fjerdan, she mumbled, “I met him in Ketterdam. He’s taught me the ropes.”

Scrunching up his nose and crossing his arms, Kaz harshly snapped, “I am right here, you know.”

But the two Fjerdans pointedly ignored him, now in the midst of a silent argument, staring at each other with fiery eyes as they did as children.

“He is not good for you.”

Y/N scoffed as her hands fell into place on her hips. “And you think you know what’s good for me? Years after we went our different paths.”

“He is an evil man,” Matthias snarled. “I can see it in those soulless eyes.”

“Don’t you even start!”

“I was imprisoned, Y/N! All because his Grisha pet claimed me a slaver.”

The last word of Matthias’s proclamation was spoken in clear Ravkan, as perfect a pronunciation as the Fjerdan man could muster. It was a clear message to Kaz as to the topic the two were discussing in their native language. Matthias’s eyes gazed at hers, eyebrows slightly furrowed as though he were begging. Begging for her to see his side, to understand why he was so concerned.

But Y/N simply shook her head, glancing at Kaz and speaking in Ravkan, “There must have been a misunderstanding.”

Matthias’s face grew red, the shade of beets her mother had harvested in the summer months. Standing up, he furiously reached towards Y/N fumbling to grab ahold of her wrist. “These Ravkan and Kerch people are horrible.”

“That is quite enough from you, Helvar,” Kaz snapped once more and with a swing of his cane, brought it roughly down upon the Fjerdan man’s shoulder.

The Fjerdan & The Kerch

The first day had been rough, taut tension rippling through the air between the Fjerdan and the Kerch as Y/N now liked to call them. The two men that marked the two different lives she had lived. Matthias with the naive girl who not once even wondered of a life outside her little Fjerdan village. The girl who made sticks into swords and rocks into cannon balls. And they’d played on those snowy fields, each commanding their own invisible army and conducting their own duels. Of course, like the little gentleman he was, a quiet and reserved boy, far too timid for the games the other boys played, Matthias had always let her win.

And now there was the current version of her, the one whose life was marked by Kaz. That naive little girl had no clue what to do when arriving upon the docks at Ketterdam, her mother gravely ill from the tedious journey. And when she was left all alone, stranded and lonely, not a person to turn to for comfort on those grimy streets, was when Kaz appeared. Practically a knight in shining armor, someone to guide her through the city that rode that fine line between life and death.

In a way, he’d saved her. Silently directed her along the easier path, placing a few kruge in her pocket when she needed it. Whatever she needed, he provided some way, somehow. That was when her loyalty turned away from Fjerda and it’s gleaming snowy fields, her mind turned away from Matthias. And after that, it was Kaz
 just Kaz.

Now as the ship cut through the harsh waters, ever heading more north, she could hardly stand the two men glaring daggers at each other. Part of Y/N thought, if given the chance, they’d willingly throttle each other to death. It would simply be a matter of who could throw the other overboard first. And as mildly entertaining as it sounded, that was one thing she did not want to witness.

By her side, Kaz fidgeted with a large padlock, tossing the rusted object between his hands as he worked those fingers, picking and relocking it. He liked to think he was a figure of confidence going into a job, the commander standing proud at the front of an army, head held high and shoulders pinned back. But really, he was a bit of an anxious mess. Everyone around just pointedly avoided the topic. Kaz always had his thing going. Something to work with his hands, something to exercise his brain.

“Can you show me?” Y/N found herself asking. For the longest time she admired the ways he could work a lock as though it were an extension of himself. How with just a few gentle clicks, like a puppet master pulling strings, anything would open to do Kaz’s bidding.

Kaz nodded, one corner of his lips turning up into what could resemble a smug smile. Outstretching her hand, she wrapped her fingers around the padlock he’d dropped into her palm. The metal was smooth under her touch, polished but tarnished by the rough patches of rust. It was like a little secret held within her hand.

Matthias, whose head was turned towards the churning waves, staring off into the distance for any sign of the icey coastline, chirped sarcastically, “In Fjerda, breaking into locked places is a crime. Is it not that way in Kerch?”

Y/N sent a scathing glare in his direction, just like how she used to when they were children. A smug grin sprouted upon Matthias’s lips, the same boyish look he had as a child. Even back then, they butted heads - the type of friendship anomaly where both were so different, yet so frustratingly alike. A sudden urge rose inside Y/N to poke her tongue out at the boy, but she didn’t. Instead, she rolled the padlock in her hands, cradling it like a precious jewel.

“Picking locks is an art,” Kaz began, folding both gloved hands in his lap as he learnt forward. “It takes time and practice, but it’s all in the hands. Locks are no different from people. With just a nice, light touch, a flick of the fingers, you can bend the object to your will.”

Gazing up into Kaz’s eyes, she thought he was more like the locks than anything else. Vehemently guarded and yet, the softness was still there. Way down beneath the tough exterior, vulnerable secrets held closely to the heart. If only she could scratch away at that, expose the truth beneath so she could know. Know Kaz for who he truly was, not this scary legend around him. But rather the true Kaz, the part of him that reigned over the motivations, the values, the reasons why he did what he did.

That was all she wanted in the world. To get to know Kaz. To learn the secrets of his trade, model herself in his image. To be talented enough to pick locks, twirl guns, and throw knives. To be someone worthy of being a Crow.

The Fjerdan & The Kerch

Each of the members of their group took turns peering through those glasses to examine the prisoner wagon rattling along the road on its way to the palace gates.

“This is genius,” Jesper breathed out, his eyes wide as he stared through the glasses.

All of them were jittery, adrenaline running through their veins that was nearly as cold as the Fjerdan ice. It chilled them to their core, but also stirred something inside. A deep wanting, a desire to make this whole job a success. To walk out of Fjerda in one piece, return to Ketterdam where their hands would be full of kruge.

“This is idiotic,” Matthias grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. His nose wrinkled up in disgust at the rather unappealing food placed in front of him, but Y/N would be willing to bet her life, some of that disgust was also meant for Kaz.

“How so?” Inej inquired as her thin frame practically leaned over the railing, staring at the prisoner wagon that slowed to a roll by the guard’s station.

“It would be,” the Fjerdan man admitted. “If Kaz knew everything about the Ice Court.”

An icey silence fell over the group as Matthias looked happily smug, a devilish grin upon his lips as he stared at the high walls of the Ice Court. The Crows all glanced at one another, fear sparking in their eyes at the thought of the Fjerdan destroying their heist.

Clenching her fists, Y/N sat up higher in her seat as she stared down her childhood friend. “Matthias if you don’t tell us, I swear to Djel I’ll-”

“He’s bluffing,” Kaz casually announced, wholly unbothered by Matthias’s little drama show.

“What?”

“Your dear Matthias wouldn’t risk withholding information to put you in danger. And he’s certainly not clever enough to think of blackmail.”

“Demjin,” he muttered under his breath, not daring to glance at Kaz’s face.

“Can you two just stop it?”

Both men practically jumped in their seats like nervous rabbits, staring at Y/N, and everyone else curiously watched the confrontation.

“I can’t go on with the two of you at each other’s throats,” Y/N begged, glancing between both of them. Matthias shifted uneasily in his seat, glancing back yet again at the large stone walls lying just down the road.

“A truce, please? You don’t have to like each other, or even think of one another as friends. But please just stop snapping.”

Tense silence hovered in the air as Kaz and Matthias both eyed one another, their jaws tense and heads held highly with confidence as if both were Kings on a chessboard. But ultimately both nodded, giving in to Y/N’s plea for the same reason - to please her. Neither wanted to see her upset, eyes wide and voice wavering as it was now. They both treasured the times when she smiled so widely that her eyes sparkled. Both aimed to see her happy, as carefree as a butterfly crafted of the most intricate hues and patterns fluttering in the wind.

Perhaps the Fjerdan and the Kerch weren’t so different after all.

The Fjerdan & The Kerch

Kaz Taglist

@oliviasslut @ameliathackray @purplewcrld @subjecta13-thefangirl @aysegust @amberash05 @beatitlikeabongodrum @mindofasupernova @kaitlyn2907 @renataligorio @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ladydaemon @just-a-new-start @nlnlpanini @kaqua @chaoticneutral3 @thedelusionreaderbitch @spawn0fsatan @vintagebitc @itsnotquimey @datrie @aliiiyyaaah @morganayenneferburnham @magravenwrites @kykymyeon @fandomstuffff @whatiswrongwithpeople @bilesxbilinskixlahey @imagines-and-preferences1216 @dreamer-writer-fangirl @alice-the-nerd @rika90 @for-bebbanburg @ancientbeing10 @everwhovian @theoroseo @jaystaysinside @moony-is-bae @ms-awkward @glowstick-lesbian @xetherealbeautyx @lillypotter00 @black-kitten-imagines @shortimaginewriter @ohfuk @aleksanderwh0r3 @yummyfanta @gallysonegoodlung @bicyhot1 @notplutos

3 years ago

Maze runner Reactions  ~ Your Beautiful singing ~

Maze Runner Reactions  ~ Your Beautiful Singing ~

Minho: “Who is that, Ive never heard such a heavenly voice” *peers off into maze unsure if its a human or a trap

Bonus Headcannons  

- Minho would frequently hear your voice echoing through out the maze (lmao imagine hearing way)

- Minho has tried for years to try and track where that sound has been coming from.

- Minho has seen dreams of the girl he’s so longer to meet. Or well he believes its a girl at least

- Minho often wonders what your eyes would look like, what does your hair smell like or how soft is your skin.

- Minho is very eager to see, and if he could get that chance he would take it no matter what it takes.

- Minho dreams of having his head on your lap and being able to gaze up at you listening to your angelic voice.

- Minho hasn’t told anyone about your voice in the maze, part of him thinks it to good to be true. Such a beautiful being can not come from such a dark place.

- Other gladers have noticed that Minho has been day dreaming a lot and is more determined the ever to go into the maze.

- Minho likes to think your his light shining in the darkness he just hopes that your light doesn’t dim. He will find you one day and he hopes to be yours.

Maze Runner Reactions  ~ Your Beautiful Singing ~

Newt: “Keep singing love, you always make all the pain go away.”

- Newt loves your voice, it reminds him of something he’s not sure what but its something he really loves.

- He could imagine your qualities being the same as his mothers. Something about you is so familiar

- He thinks you would make a beautiful wife and loving mother.

- But Newt is scared of losing you and he believes the biggest mistake is bringing more children into this corrupt world.

- Newt would always ask you to sing him to sleep.

- He likes your soft whispers in his ear, it makes him forget about everything.

- Your voice take him to a special place.

- He can see a valley of flowers varying in colours. You sitting down with a flower crown singing to the butterflies that fluttered.

- These are Newts dream’s, he wants to take you to this place. He wants to keep you safe and throw away this part of his life.

- Sometimes Newt looks up to you with glossy, sorrow filled eyes. It hurts but you understand so you both live it up whilst you two can.

Maze Runner Reactions  ~ Your Beautiful Singing ~

Sorry guys but this gif was just to funny😂 we get it everyone wants Thomas

Thomas: “ You know your my sun shine Y/N..”

Headcannons

- Thomas would sometimes join in, he knows he’s bad singing but he wants to sing with you.

- Thomas isn’t actually that bad probs is the best out of the boys

- Thomas would sing you to sleep if your sick, tired and or can’t sing anymore.

- He would whisper into your ear and you would be able to feel his breath on your neck.

Thomas would always kiss your check before he finally goes to sleep.

- Sometimes you make Thomas cry with your voice and the things you sing about.

- The real reason he loves your voice so much is because he can feel your sorrow, pain, joy, love.

- He knows your real and appreciates it.

- Thomas will never forget you or your voice of hope. He singings with you to remind him of the memories, to hold onto them and cherish you.

- Thomas would hand these songs down to his children/generation.

- He wants your voice to live on in the glade.

Maze Runner Reactions  ~ Your Beautiful Singing ~

Gally: “Your what  i need after a long hard day at work”

Headcannons

- Gally has a tough time putting up with everyone else, its not his fault its just who he was.

- Gally would crawl up to you in bed (i imagine as a keeper he gets to stay in the homestead), lye on your thighs kisses and them occasionally.

- He would let your voice relax his tired muscles, tense expression and allow his to slowly drift off to sleep.

- Gally loves it when your rack your fingers through his hair.

- Because of this Gally treats you like a queen. Your just so loving and kind to him. Not like any of the others.

- Gally would always tell you how gifted you are to be able to sooth everyones problems and make everyone feel special, loved and valued.

- You also taught Gally how to enjoy the present, stop worry about tomorrow and start living today.  

3 years ago

MAKING EXCEPTIONS| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x Reader

Characters: Derek, Stiles, Isaac, Scott

Word count: 791 words

Warnings: none, just fluff

Gif: not mine, found on Google.

Summary: Scott and Isaac are confused by Y/n getting her first period since she started dating Derek, worrying that there may be something else wrong with her. Stiles and Derek help dismantle the situation.

image

“I mean you smell that too, right?” Scott asks stepping forward to sniff me. Isaac nods quickly pointing at Scott to show that he agrees.

“Oh yeah definitely. There’s a distinct smell of death.” He adds and I sigh looking between them.

“Boys. I’m fine. Really.” I retort stepping passed them only to be stopped by Isaac’s arm. He frowns, leaning in close just like Scott did before, worriedly looking towards him.

“Death and blood. Do you smell blood too?” He asks worried and I scrounge my nose at the pure thought of this situation.

“Did someone attack you that we didn’t know of?” Scott asks attempting to lift the sleeves of my shirt, but failing when I slap his hands away with my free arm.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Isaac chimes in reaching for my arms as well.

Keep reading

4 years ago

How do you think Lee or any of your characters will react to an ugly reader (like me)?

Ugly reader? I'm sorry but I've never heard of such a thing. I don't think I know anyone in this world I would term ugly based on appearance. You, my lovely, gorgeous anon are beautiful and I will not stand for anyone calling you ugly, not even yourself.

You wanna know how the boys will react to you? Read on.

image

Steve Rogers: The moment he hears you call yourself ugly he stops what he's doing and just looks at you. He frowns, looking almost confused as he gazed at you. He takes your hand and pulls you into his massive chest, brushing your hair back so he could see you clearly.

"Ugly? You? The girl who shines so bright she lights the world around her, you're calling her ugly? Who gave you the right to talk about my best girl like that eh? No one compares to you, not from back in the 40s, not today. You’re the beacon of light that keeps me grounded doll. Gotta show you how beautiful you really are"

And he proceeds to do just that.

image

Bucky Barnes: He heard you say to Nat that a dress won't look pretty on your ugly body. That night, he sneaks in your room and crawls inside the covers with you, holding your body tight to his. He took your in his and metal one, lips at your ear.

"What do you see when you look at me?" He asked.

"A broken beautiful man deserving of love" you answered automatically. He tips your chin up so that he could look in your eyes, the tenderest of look swimming in the blues.

"I see the same when I look at you. I see a woman who found the most scarred man and still loved him. I see a woman so pure I fear I'll taint her with my bloody hands. Never call yourself ugly, never again."

image

Lee Bodecker: Lee straight away snorts when you call yourself ugly. He rolled his eyes at you as he swiftly gathers you in his arm and sits you on his lap. He takes his hat and puts it on your head, the rim falling loose and slipping over your forehead so he had to push it up with a finger. 

"You're the only pretty thing in this shitty town. You've got a heart as big as my tummy" he takes your hand and pressed it into his soft flesh "you're the only one whose smile I'd both die for and kill for. Ugly my ass, you're the most beautiful gal I know and you're all mine".

image

Ransom Drysdale: "What the fuck did you just say?" He asked when you said you look ugly. You look at him aghast, not expecting the outburst. He stepped closer, putting his arms on either side of you and looking at you intently. 

"Have you met my family? My fucked up, greedy aunts and uncles? Have you met my mother? They wear a thousand dollars clothes and still manage to be the cheapest people I have ever met. And you? You can wear a burlap sack and would still be the prettiest flower because you found it in you to love a shitty brat like me. Now come here so I can show you how beautiful you are."

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Andy Barber: He was driving when you made the comment, the word ugly said almost unconsciously. You blinked when he stopped the car, turning to look at you.

"I've studied law for over nearly two decades and there are two things that I know are wrong with them. The first one is that it should be illegal for anyone to be as beautiful, as amazing as you, and the second that it should be a punishable offense for anyone to call such a woman as yourself ugly. I'm a lawyer, trust my judgement. Nod if you understand."

You nod, he smiled and restated the car, one hand reaching over to pull yours in his lap.

image

Tony Stark: He knocked over the lab apparatus he was working with and stared at you incomprehensibly. He had that expression on his face that he reserved for idiots who didn’t understand his science lingo.

"What the hell are you on about? Sweetpie, you love a man who made weapons that killed hundreds. You gave me your love when I didn't deserve any. You gave my kindness when I didn't deserve any. You think anyone who's ugly could do that? I'll book an appointment with the ophthalmologist, you need to get those eyes checked."

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Loki : He was in the middle of polishing his blade and the moment the words "I am ugly" passed your lips that blade shot out and embedded itself in the opposite wall.

"i am a man of magic. I can create the most unthinkable illusions with my mind and hands, and yet no matter how proficient I get, I'll never be able to create something as beautiful as you. You need to stop talking like this, I don't like it when people disrespect those that I hold dear."

image

Sherlock Holmes : He shut the newspaper he was reading and put it on the desk behind him as he pinned you with his stare. 

"When I search for something, I usually get it because I have a gaze that doesn't miss much. My every quest for beauty and love has led me to you. My mind and heart have never seen anything as beautiful as you. I am Sherlock Holmes, I don't lie. Believe me when I say you haven't got an ugly bone in your body.”

He opened his arms, asking you to come to him.

“I am a detective, let me show you the evidence of how utterly breathtaking you are.”

+++++

So my dear anon, I need you to shut up about this. You’re not ugly. You are worthy and amazing and beautiful and all things nice in this world. 

3 years ago

ïœĄïœ„:*:★,ïœĄïœ„:*:☆ cassian x reader x azriel

.ăƒ»ă‚œ-: ✧ :- cassian wants a baby. sm//ut

You couldn't recall how long you've been here. It could be hours. Days. Years. You could spend the rest of your life here and you wouldn't mind. Not as long as you were theirs.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Az and I fucking you until you're with child? Fuck, I want nothing more than to watch as you swell, tits get heavy and filled with milk. As you become a desperate little whore for Az and I. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Az and I filling you to the brim with us?"

You couldn't reply as Azriel fucked your mouth, the choked sounds as he pounded without forgiveness the only response you gave. That and your trembling walls, tightening around him. "And what would you say, Az?"

Cassian fists your hair, jerking your mouth away from Azriel. Azriel lets out a hiss, fingers curling around the air of the table. With a hard thrust, let out a whimper. Cassian's thrusts slowed, the pause had you grinding back against him. The heat in your belly, the one that neither started nor ended in your cunt, throbbed with need.

With them.

During his pause, Cassian waits to see if you need a break. If you need his relentless neverending pace to let up. You shook your head, Cassian's rhythm where he left off.

You were certain you'd have purple bruises on your hips. You knew Azriel would take great care in rubbing a salve on them, in kissing away the soreness after he presses into the fresh intensity of them, reveling in the jerk of your body and the sounds that came from you.

"What?" Azriel demanded. His hips buck against the empty air, the arm pinned high on your back grasping a handful of Cassian's thick arm. You look up at Azriel. "Would you like to see our dearest Y/n with your child? My child? They're fucking marvelous as it is, of course, but Cauldron, I don't think I'd be able to keep my hands off them,"

Azriel heaved, cock straining harder if possible. Cassian released your hair, Azriel taking back his place. You gagged around him. He buried himself to the hilt, resting against the back of your throat. Cassian cursed at the sight. At how well you took them both.

Azriel waited until you adjusted to his size — until you were no longer fighting for lovely oxygen — before his pace slowed. "I think she'll have to earn it," Their conversation — as casual as it would be if they were asking about fucking flowers or the weather — only continued.

Azriel's cock left you thoroughly gagged, unable to offer input of any kind. It drove you insane. Your nails dug into Cassian's wrist. "I think they're doing pretty well now, wouldn't you say? Do you remember there was a time she could hardly take one of us? Now, look at her. A wonderful whore,"

You moaned. The sound was only drowned out by Azriel's pace quickening again. Cassian smacked your ass, the color now tinted with pale pink.

Hot spurts of cum shot down your throat, the salty taste of Azriel filling your mouth. You swallowed. Azriel pulled out, crouching down to kiss the top of your head. He smoothed his scarred fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your eyes. You panted, only able to focus on the pressure Cassian was putting on your clit. The pressure building in your core.

"You're doing so wonderfully, aren't you, Y/n?" He waited until you nodded, kissing you gently. If he could taste himself on your mouth, he made no show of it.

You were so sensitive to the world around you. You could feel each vein on Cassian's cock, each touch Azriel left on you as his hand moved down, pinching a nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand gently tilted your head to the side, leaving marks in the wake of his mouth as he branded you as his own.

You clamped down around Cassian, crying when you came. Tired, body exhausted, and covered in sweat and fluids from the previous rounds they'd already put your body through. Cassian kept his pace, his hips hitting the back of you as he didn't ease up his touch on your clit.

"Azriel, Azriel, Azriel, Cassian, Cassian, Az, Cass, please—" Their names blurred together, muddled as you begged as another release built within you. Cassian came with a shout, leaning over you and kissing the back of your neck.

You clenched your jaw, nearly bursting into tears when he pulled out of you, entirely empty for the first time in hours. Azriel was already hard again, his gentle murmurings falling onto deaf ears when he stood again, taking Cassian's place.

"We should," Azriel says, all pretense from before was gone. "Fuck her until she can't walk. Until she can't think of anything other than how full of our seed she is,"

Cassian chuckles, tilting your head up, "I think she's nearly there," Your eyes rolled back when Azriel pushed himself into you. Your walls quivered, tightening down onto his large girth.

"What would you like, doll?" Cassian's hazel eyes darkened. "Do you want our baby? Do you want the frenzy that comes with it? You can hardly keep your hands off us now. You'll be insatiable. Do you want that?"

Your cries as Azriel fucked you answered enough.

3 years ago

hi gorgeous

I was wondering if you could write a poly marauders imagine where the reader feels insecure about her body, her stretch marks etc and the boys comfort her (can lead to smut but idk)

If you are comfortable with that off

I would be so so so grateful, thank you so much đŸ„ș

+ Can i please request an imagine where the reader struggles with her body image? with marauders (can be platonic or poly relationship)

Includes: mentions of stretchmarks and insecurities, poly relationship.

The mirror reflected the thins stripes of white and purple that spread like lightning over your legs. After pushing around your flesh for the minutes you’ve been staring at them the area had become sensitive and worsened your insecurity.

You didn’t notice the tears until they fell off your chin and you stomped your foot almost childishly when pity was replaced with anger.

Why did I have to get these?

Why don’t they go away?

How do the boys even love me?

The boys!

You quickly realized that your boyfriends were gonna come barging into the room and you picked up a pair of sweatpants that laid on the bed. From the size of them you’d guess they were Remus’ and you rolled up the ends so you wouldn’t trip. You also changed your smaller t-shirt you’d been wearing during the day into one of James’ huge ones, all and all dwarfing you. But clothes too big was better than clothes too tight.

Sitting down by the desk in the corner of the room to make it look like you’d been studying. A pitter patter of footsteps neared the room and three laughing boys entered the room.

“Hello sweetheart” Sirius called out and put his bag by his dresser, placing a kiss on your head as he walked by you.

“Look at you, all cozied up”James said as he came up behind you and laid a hand on your shoulder, “look so pretty in my clothes”.

He leaned down and put his cheek by yours, looking over the paper you’d been trying to write, and pressed a couple of kisses on your shoulder. The comment stinged because you knew he was lying. He couldn’t think that.

“Think it’s time for bed” Remus said through a yawn as he pulled his shirt off.

You realized that you hadn’t said anything to them so you patted James’s hand and turned around.

“How did it go? With the map and all” you mumbled and looked over at Sirius who was standing in only his boxers next to a shirtless Remus.

Their bodies were glorious, Sirius on the slimmer side with dark tattoos decorating it. Remus had a little more muscle on him and delicate scars running through his skin. The ringing thought of not being enough only got louder as you looked at them.

“Went well, found a new passway that leads from the great hall to the garden” Remus gave you a soft smile as he saw your eyes glaze over slightly, thinking it’s an indication that you’re getting tired, “c’mere doll, ‘s bedtime”.

You stood up and let James hand fall off your shoulder and laid down on the bed as the boys finished up their bedtime routines. Sirius got into the bed on your left side, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist. The feeling almost burned that he wanted to touch you. James got in on Sirius’ left side, an old rule that the strongest gotta sleep closest to the door, and Remus laid down on your right side. He maneuvered his body so you rested your head on his chest.

“Don’t you wanna take off the sweats darling? Gonna get pretty warm” Sirius mumbled as he felt the thick material of your trousers.

You just shook your head and moved his hand and shut your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep before you got any more questions. But a shaky breath and a tear that hadn’t escaped from your waterline earlier fell onto Remus’ chest when you closed your eyes.

”Hey, what’s wrong love?” Remus whispered and inspected your face, wet lashes and a slight irritation in your eyes gave away that you had been crying, ”wanna tell us?”

As you realized your facade was breaking down a couple more tears fell down your cheeks and you sniffled into the comforter.

”Just feel.. ugly” you mumbled, speach slightly muffled by the fabric in front of your mouth, ”looked in the mirror and didn’t like it.. don’t deserve all of you”.

Sirius’ arm that was wrapped around you tightened and

“Darling, why would you ever think that? You are loved and beautiful, our everything” he muttered into your neck, placing a few kisses to try and prove his point.

“Is that why you’re wearing so much clothing to bed, to hide?” James whispered out, voice almost breaking as he tried to say it as gently as possible.

You let your head fall into another nod and Remus’ hands came up to your face to turn it toward him.

“You don’t have to hide, my love, I understand if it’ll make you more comfortable but we want to see as much of you as we can”.

You broke out into a small smile at Remus’ gentle and soft eyes and you turned your head so you could place a kiss onto his palm.

As you breathed in a breath of reassurance your hands went to the waistband of your sweatpants and pulled them down slowly, throwing them to the end of the bed. Sirius hand went down to your hip and he placed a few kisses along your side before letting a finger trace your stretchmarks.

“Looks like lightning” he whispered, mostly to himself, “‘s like on nights with thunderstorms when we watch movies”.

And you felt yourself relax a little more, albeit you didn’t suddenly think you’re the most gorgeous being on this planet, you felt calm to listen to your boy finding fascination in your body.

4 years ago

Unrequited pt. 2

azriel (acotar) x reader

*this is part 2! Sorry for the wait guys! I really struggled with this and low-key I don’t like it but I hope y'all do! I wanna write the scenes after this but idk how im gonna make it work lol. anyway, enjoy!

word count: 3193

———————————

What you hadn’t realized was that Azriel left a few minutes later, walking to your apartment to make sure you had gotten home safe.

All of a sudden he heard whimpers and labored breathing coming from the alley.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you laying on the ground and bleeding out. He felt a tug in his chest. A click. Panic instilled in him as he gently but swiftly picked you up and flew you to Madja.

“Hang on y/n, you’re so strong” he whispered

In those moments, he feared for you. Fear that was so strong. Something he had never felt before.

He rushed into the house laying you on the bed gently before he was shoved out by the Madja so she could try to save you.

Azriel alerted the others and then collapsed into a chair, sitting in silence. A tear slipped out of his eye at the thought he may have been too late to save you.

You. His mate.

Why, of all the times did the bond have to click while you were on the brink of death. In a situation where you may not make it out alive. It wasn’t fair.

He wondered if you had known. Could that be the reason why you had been distancing yourself from him? Because you didn’t expect or want him to be your mate? But if you had known you would’ve said something, right? You wouldn’t keep it a secret? So many thoughts kept racing through his head.

Keep reading

3 years ago

dads best friend bucky making you ride him on his couch

Dads Best Friend Bucky Making You Ride Him On His Couch

You hadn’t been in Bucky’s home for longer than five minutes before he had you naked and bouncing on his dick. His hands gripping at your waist, spanking your ass every few moments as you rode him on the couch. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face was buried into your neck, kissing at the skin and your head was tossed back as your moans flew free

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” You chanted with furrowed brows as you grew closer to your peak.

Bucky knew your body like the back of his hand so you when you slowly started to loose your rhythm, he leaned back into the couch, pulling you with him and planted his feet into the floor just as he started to fuck up into you, “You take me so well, fuck.” He groaned at your walls tightening around him.

“Please let me cum!” You cried, your hips trying to buck but his arms wrapped tightly around you waist held you still as you took the rough heavy thrust he provided you.

“Cum with me baby, let go.” His voice strained, hips sputtering as he chased his own release.

And you did. Over and over and over again.

4 years ago

Do Your Job.

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Requested: Nope

Warnings: None

Summary: Y/N doesn't know how to say no. And Chris doesn't like that.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Angry!Chris in this fic, kind of Naive!Reader... Enjoy

---

Chris watched with a clenched jaw as the woman winced upon hearing her boss. He didn't like her boss, at all. "Y/N! Why haven't you made my coffee yet?" he screamed at her, despite standing only a few feet away from her. "I-I was
 I was helping Peter
" she tried saying and Chris' hands balled into fists when the man took a few steps towards her, pointing a threatening finger in her face.

"Does he pay you? Huh? Are you his assistant? Now get lost and get me some coffee, fast! No excuses!" Teary-eyed after being screamed at, Y/N whirled around and walked out of the room. Chris wanted nothing more than to just grab that asshole's neck and squeeze until the life poured out of him. "Hey, everything okay?" He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his co-star, Michelle Dockery.

"I, uh, yeah
 yeah, I'm fine, why?" Michelle didn't miss his grumpiness. "Come on, you were sitting there like you were imagining someone's murder," she snorted, plopping down on the couch next to him. "His," Chris huffed, nodding his head towards Y/N's boss who was speaking to one of the extras on set. "What did he do?" Michelle frowned and turned to look as well.

"That man does not know how to treat his assistant."

It was the last week of filming Defending Jacob. Y/N had caught Chris' eye on his first day at work; she had him wrapped around her finger in the first week. She was super beautiful, very polite, kind and helpful. She cracked funny jokes and whenever she entered a room, it seemed to get a little brighter and livelier. Chris wanted to ask her out, but chickened out whenever he tried to approach her.

They hadn't talked, ever. Sure, sometimes he'd catch her looking in his direction during breaks and in-between shoots, but he never thought anything of it. He was Chris Evans, people were gonna stare. But, in the first month of filming, Chris realized that the woman had a bad habit— she didn't know how to say no. Ever. She never, ever said no to anyone. And that annoyed him.

Y/N, can you come here for a bit?

She would get up without question, and follow the voice. He once saw her sitting down for a quick lunch and she had only had one bite before someone called for her. And he had watched as she kept her lunch away and walked towards the person. That had made him unbelievably angry, because even after her work, she didn't eat. She gave up on lunch. He had come very close to talking to her that day.

His pent up frustration increased day-by-day, as more and more people started using Y/N's overly helpful nature to their advantage. He noticed how she ran around from place to place all day, how she'd practically collapse on a seat the moment she got a break and would softly groan when she heard her name not even 15 seconds later. And the worst part? None of the people she helped were polite.

Once, he saw Y/N helping someone with her dress and the moment the job was done, the other woman had walked away without a word, talking to some of her friends. He saw how Y/N had just stared at the woman, blinking, expecting a thank you but receiving nothing in return. He noticed the disappointed sigh she heaved after and left to do her other work. That incident had just made him want to hold her and never let go.

That brought them to today. Chris and Michelle dropped the topic and chatted about something else until he saw her from the corner of his eye. Then he turned to see her fully, watching as Y/N handed the cup of coffee to her boss. That man had the audacity to give her a glare before he walked away, sipping on the coffee. This time, even Michelle noticed, and her jaw dropped.

"What?! That bastard!" she exclaimed as a teardrop rolled down Y/N's cheek. Chris' heart broke at the sight, his eyes closing when someone behind him shouted her name. Her hand instantly flew up to wipe her tears and she smiled to herself before turning in his direction. And for a brief moment, their eyes met. She gave him a quick smile before jogging past him towards the person who asked for her.

He couldn't even smile back.

---

"Cut! Break time."

Chris eased out of his tense position and rolled his shoulders before walking away, trying to find a seat. His feet ached from standing. He soon found a seat and sat down, taking out his phone. He went over some texts, until he heard her name being called. Then his head snapped up, because the person who had called for her was her boss. He glanced around until he saw her a few feet away from him.

She had her headphones in and was holding her phone horizontally, which made him realize that she was either watching YouTube, a show or a movie. And she was on her break. "Yes?" Y/N replied, taking out her headphones. "Get me another cup of coffee," the boss mentioned offhandedly, "It's my break." Chris glared at that. Make it yourself, asshole.

"But sir, it's my break too
" Y/N insisted softly. And without knowing, Chris' feet carried him towards the two. "So? I pay you, Y/L/N, there's no need to be such a brat. I'll have you fired in no time, you— Mr Evans?" Everyone around them froze as Chris placed his arm on Y/N's shoulder, darkly glaring at her boss. "She told you she's on a break," he spoke coldly. "Mr Evans—"

And the knot inside him finally broke.

"She's on a fucking break! Let her get some rest! She has been running around all day, doing things for your lazy butts—" he addressed everyone loudly, "—and none of you even thank her! Do you know what an angel she is? She continues helping you even after you treat her like scum! It's just some fucking coffee, if you're on a break, make it yourself! For God's sake, leave the woman alone! All of you, if I ever, ever hear her name being called around here again, it's over. I'll make sure you're off the set before you can even say sorry. Now get lost!"

He didn't mean to be so loud, nor so angry. But it just happened, months of frustration, months of anger released all at once. Y/N's boss stared at Chris for a few seconds, blinking, before muttering a quiet sorry and leaving. Everyone silently got back to work as Chris took in some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. That's when he felt a small hand covering his.

He looked down and saw Y/N smiling at him, tears wantonly running down her cheeks. "Thank you so much," she whispered and his heart raced. "Absolutely no problem, darling. They were the assholes, using you to their advantage like that, so fucking disrespectfully
 You have got to learn how to say no," he chuckled, dropping his hand from her shoulder. "I do, don't I?" she hummed, her lips twitching in shame.

"We'll work on it, I promise." He gently cupped her cheeks, wiping away her tears. Y/N gulped, trying her best to hide the effect his touch had on her. She had a crush on him, but like, who didn't? "How? It's the last week of filming," she pointed out with a small, sarcastic laugh. "It doesn't have to be the last week of us talking. How about we have dinner tonight, 8?"

Was he actually asking her out?!

"Yeah, yeah 8 sounds good," she replied near instantly and he gave her an amused smile. "Great. I'll meet you later, okay?" As he started walking away, she called out, "Mr Evans! My number!" And he walked back to her. They exchanged numbers, sent each other "hi" to make sure they had the correct number and Chris walked away again, ready to film the last scene of the day.

He was in an unusually good mood, having finally asked her out. She said yes.

He was also pleased at the end of the day, not having heard Y/N's name being called out even once after his outburst. Sure, after her break, some people had requested her assistance but they talked politely to her, saying thank you when she was done and smiling. Chris approved of that, after all, it was her job.

And, in the blink of an eye, it was 7:30 pm.

Chris was at home, fixing his hair. They had agreed to meet at his place, not wanting the media to find out. There, he had already ordered some pizzas and had beer ready, a movie paused on the TV. Chris finished messing with his hair and went downstairs, quickly patting Dodger's head. He sat on the couch and waited, busy scrolling through Twitter until he heard the doorbell ring.

When he opened the door, he saw Y/N. And his breath caught in his throat; she looked absolutely stunning dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a cute little smile plastered on her face. "May I come in?" she laughed a bit when he just stood there, staring at her in awe.

It turned out to be a really good date, the perfect start to a perfect relationship.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed!

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