#god and my hand and feet are still so damn cold all the time

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel master list

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️ #joel miller x innocent reader #joel miller x virgin reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #tw virginity loss #Finally F*cking Friday

[luvrgrlellie]

gf!ellie headcannons

warnings: smut

controversial but i think gf!ellie only really calls you babe/baby. she calls you other things occasionally, but knowing ellie I think she would find a lot of typical pet names cringe (unless she’s saying it teasingly during sex ie. princess 😫 for her pillow princess) (or doll if she’s feeling cocky)

gf!ellie who’s ALWAYS cold. that girl has terrible circulation and is constantly sticking her feet under your butt or her hands up your shirt/down your pants to warm them up

“ouch els you’re freezing!!! why do you have ice cubes for hands?”

“idk but i dooooo know i have a space heater for a gf so it doesn’t really matter”

gf!ellie lovessss hearing you talk about your interests/hobbies/passions. she could sit there forever just listening to you ramble and watching your eyes gleam with excitement.

gf!ellie who loves taking you shopping and watching you try things on. you’re like her own little doll that she gets to dress up.

“oh my god babeeee i need to see you in this. go put it on.”

“holy shit - fuck you look so good. yeah give me a spin. god you look so fine.”

of course gf!ellie also spoils the shit out of you on these trips whenever you let her.

“no really els - I don’t need it, it’s fine!”

“it’s not about needing anything. you look so fucking hot in that dress and I wanna buy it for you. cmon let me spoil my girl.”

gf!ellie who loves to doodle with you snuggled up next to her. one of her favorite pastimes is cuddling up in bed with you at her side and her sketchbook in hand.

gf!ellie who’s a terrible cook but tried really hard in the beginning for you. she wanted to impress you by preparing a homecooked meal for your third date, but it turned out terrible. she knew you were a keeper when you took a bite and tried to pretend to like it, but then immediately came clean in the gentlest way possible because you didn’t wanna lie to her but also didn’t want her to think you didn’t appreciate the gesture.

“ellie, have you ever made this before”

“damn it’s that bad huh?”

“no, no! okay well. i will say the chicken is a little under done. and the vegetable are a little overdone. but besides that it’s really good!!”

gf!ellie who appreciates when you take over in the kitchen for the rest of the relationship. not only do you whip up the most delicious meals for her on the daily, but also look incredibly adorable doing it in your little apron with your scrunched-up concentrated face. she loves hugging you from behind to see what her cute little housewife is cooking her - squeezing your hips, rocking you back and forth, and kissing on your neck to tease you.

gf!ellie who’s uncharacteristically nervous to meet your parents. you’ve never seen her anxious like that but she just wanted really wanted to make sure that they like her. she brings flowers and some store bought cookies, but little does he know that ellie’s kind heart and love for you will win them over just fine <3

gf!ellie who knows you can handle yourself but is still hella protective of you and will knock out anyone who looks at you wrong. all you have to do is say the word.

protective gf!ellie who has mixed feelings on PDA. she really likes having her hands on you so that everyone knows your her’s, but she‘s also aware how gross and disgusting men are and how they fetishize wlw. so out of protection for you she tries to keep it toned down and unless it’s necessaryyyy (she’s tired of the stares and needs to mark her territory)

protective gf!ellie always making sure you kept your drink in your hand at all times at parties.

*drunk you getting ready to put your drink down in some random spot*

*ellie intercepting it to hold for you instead* “nopeee I got it.”

protective gf! ellie watches how much you’re drinking and cuts you off when you’ve clearly had enough

just recently posted an ellie’s kinks headcannons if y’all wanna go check it out 😏😏😏😏, so i’m not gonna go into hella detail of what gf!ellie likes in bed but let me tell ya’ll this

gf!ellie just loves teasing you. she loves how desperate you get when she drags the tip of the strap from your clit down to your hole, making you think she’s FINALLY gonna fuck you and then bringing it back up to your clit again. watching you squirm and beg her to just put it in never fails to put on smirk on your face.

“what’s the matter baby? can’t be patient? need my cock inside you that bad huh?

“if you want it so bad you’re gonna have to beg. let me hear it baby. tell me exactly what you want or you’re not getting it.” she lives to make you say every little dirty thing you want her to do to you, out loud, several times until she finally gives in. but if you do as she says she’d literally do anything you want. obsessed with you is what that girl is

loves hearing you moan and whine and beg her to fuck you but also loves covering your mouth with her hand or stuffing your panties into your mouth to shut you up. and then trying to make you talk to her when you clearly can’t.

“what’s that? sorry babe i can’t understand you.”

gf!ellie is possessive asf during sex too. whatever she’s calling you, she’s putting my in front of it. like….

“MY good girl”

“MY pussy”

“MY little slut” 😋

gf!ellie is just the bestest ever, always putting her girl first and treating her like a damn queen :)

honestly I could write so many more of these and i didn’t know where to stop so lmk if you want a part 2!!

xoxo,

a ;)

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie rose #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x y/n

[yearning-for-autumn]

Would That I -- Part 11

A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.

Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 3

Were you jealous?

You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.

You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.

How dare he.

It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.

You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.

Cauldron damn and burn him.

The next week you received another letter.

Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.

You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.

You found him in the living room, reading.

“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.

“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”

“Eris.”

“Ah.”

You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.

“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.

“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.

“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”

“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.

“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.

“You are not helping.”

“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”

He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.

Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.

It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.

Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.

Why in all the realms would I dine with you?

You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.

You have no one to be faithful to.

You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.

There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.

---

Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.

On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.

“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.

He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.

Lucien has agreed to see you.

Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.

Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.

Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.

Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.

Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred. 

Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.

“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,

“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”

Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.

Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. 

The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.

---

You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”

“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.

“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.

“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.

“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.

“Lucien.” He said.

“Eris.”

“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.

Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”

Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.

“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.

“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.

“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”

“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”

As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.

---

In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.

“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”

Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.

Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.

“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.

“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.

“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.

“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.

“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.

“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”

“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.

“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.

He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.

---

You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta. 

He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.

Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.

Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.

He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.

Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.

“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”

Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.

Let you go.

Forever.

Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.

He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.

Fine. Where should I meet you?

He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.

On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.

I will be there.

It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.

---

You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.

It was safer for Eris on your own.

You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.

“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.

“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.

“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.

“I had to.”

“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.

“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.

“Try me.” You pressed.

“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.

You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.

“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”

He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.

“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.

“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.

Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.

“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”

You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.

“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”

Hurt. Pain. Despair.

“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”

There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.

Hope.

Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.

“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.

“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”

There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.

“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”

He panted, nodding frantically.

“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”

You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.

He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.

“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.

“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.

He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.

This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.

“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.

You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.

“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.

“I can explain.”

Taglist:

@anotherbook-obsessedhoe @glitterypirateduck @homeslices @leeknows-wife @cat-or-kitten @macimads @esposadomd @forever-paramore28 @going-through-shit @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @astarlitsoul @crazylokonugget @imagine-that-100 @sorry--for-the-mess @glittervame @the-sweet-psycho @yamburger @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @acourtofbatboydreams @starrystarkey93 @holb32 @iimichie @goldenmagnolias @theravenphoenix26 @63angel @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @walkerchick007

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #writing #fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel smut #night court #azriel shadowsinger #autumn answers #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris fluff #eris smut #eris x you #eris vandaddy #enemies to lovers #acotar smut #smut #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #azriel spymaster #cassian acotar #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker

[lucifermonsii]

I don't know if you accept making other content other than call of duty, but here goes. Can you make Francis mosses from not my neighbor with a short male s/o, but who is strong. Can you deny this request if you like!

Have a good day/night!

FRANCIS?? I LOVE HIM.

M!Reader x Francis Mosses

Fighting his doppelganger 🤺

Reader is shorter then Francis

You were a short man.

Really.

It was no joke.

Behind the booth you looked fine, sitting down on the chair that has left your butt imprint from sitting on it so damn long. But whenever you were about to get into your both god damn you were small.

One time Francis was walking to the booth to get inside the apartment, the empty milk carrier swings around his hands as he held it. Dragging his feet to get into his apartment already from the long day of delivering milk.

Henry walked past him and eyed him up amd down with his tired eyes, making sure he wasn't a doppelganger before quickly walking away. Francis simply side glanced in return through half lidded eyes before going to the booth, seeing you struggling to find the key to go inside of it as Henry accidentlaly locked it before leaving.

Keys jumbled against one another as they made key noises. Still struggling to find the correct key with your slender hands, eyebrows furrowing as a feeling or frustration began to creep up on you. An annoyed grunt escapes your lips as you still struggle.

Francis raised an eyebrow at you from behind before walking over to you for assistance.

"M/N, do you need help?"

He asks in a tired tone as his voice is kept smooth, looking down at you through half lidded eyes with a raised eyebrow. You slightly flinching from his sudden appearance as you turn around to look at him, only to be greeted with his chest as you were forced to look up at him. Normally you'd look at with from eye to eye but you're not in your booth right now are you?

"Ah- Francis, you scared me"

You said with a short sigh before realising that he could be a doppelganger, glancing up and down at him to make sure that he's not dangerous. Realising that he hasn't done anything to harm you, yet. Probably. You're not sure either way. Just hoping he's the real one is all.

"You're struggling with the keys"

Slight pink dusted on your cheeks as you felt a bit embarrassed that he had to witness how stupid you were at that moment.

"No need to feel embarrassed with it dear.. "

He says before taking the set of keys from your hands and quickly trying to find the key to your booth, slightly bending over and trying a few keys into the keyhole before eventually finding the right one and putting it into the hole and twisting it as it clicked.

"There we go"

He says as his lips were right next to your ear, his heat radiates off of his body as it made you warm from the cold of the night. Goosebumps crept on your back as blush slightly creep on your neck from the sudden close distance.

"Alright thanks."

You said as he took a few steps back to give you space and handed you back your keys before you went into your booth and let him through. Not long after that an obvious doppelganger showed up, Francis Mosses. Honestly with the unusual face he had if wasn't hard to tell he was a doppelganger with those void eyes and pearly white iris along with the wide mouth.

Pushing the big red button you dialed the D.D.D but before you could even dial the last digit Francis (the doppelganger) came bursting into your booth and attempted to attack you, hell you weren't sure how he got in..

Wait.

Hold on–

Did you even close the door to your booth!?

Dumbass.

He came in and leaped out for you, but you quickly flee out of your booth as it's easy to run from his because of how short you were. Luring him out he followed after you and continued to reach for you and grab you, knowing that you can't possibly pussy out of this and had no choice but to fight him.

He charges forward to grab you but before he could you dodged and forcefully hit your elbow to his back making him stumble forward before swept him off his feet and kick him off, sending him flying across the room before his back landed harshly against the wall and falling. But a few moments later he got up and went after you, being even more aggressive as you added fuel to the fire.

☆

A notification made a groan erupt from Francis's throat as he walked over to his phone on the counter and checked the notification, turns out he got a message from his boss saying that his Co worker couldn't fill in for him as she was sick. Making Francis having to work on his half day off, poor guy.

Wearing his uniform and putting on the milkman hat he took the milk carrier and rode the lift to head out. Walking over to text door that led outside grunts and punching sounds were faint from the inside, raising an eyebrow he got curious. Probably a gang fight or something, he wasn't sure. Suddenly, it went silent. As if all the fighting had stopped, he turned the knob and stepped outside, being met with you kneeling over a corpse of him.

The doppelganger now dead as substances as dark as the void bled out of him as if it were blood, your eyes blown wide as you look up at the real Francis who was staring at you in disbelief. Your forearms stained with said substance as your fists were covered with the black goo, feeling embarrassed that Francis had to see the after math of all of this you quickly stood up and adjusted your tie. Only managing to stain your already stained buttoned up shirt, god damn you felt clumsy around him.

"F- Francis! Why leaving so early?"

You questioned him with an awkward smile as you tried to ignore the scene before him, he simply just glanced back at the dead body before looking back at you.

"Work emergency.."

He murmured before eyeing you up and down, you were a mess. Literally. Stained with the mystery black substance from head to toe, some on your cheeks as you wiped it off and avoid his gaze. Feeling a bit shy due to the silence as if he were judging you with that tired gaze of his.

"I'll be heading out then.."

He said before walking away to go back to work.

#x male reader #male reader #moots #francis mosses #francis mosses x male reader #male reader x francis mosses #Francis #thats not my neighbour #gay #the milkman #milk man #i love francis mosses my precious bb that i wanna rail over

[missviviii]

a/n: shsusbsihsw i can’t— this idea has been plaguing my mind 😭

.

“A Duel For Your Hand.”

warning(s): swearing

summary: mizu knew you ever since she was a child. you two were friends, and she grew feelings for you. one day, you had to move. until one day, you saw her again, and complained to her about how your father was marrying you off to some noble.

mizu x fem!childhood crush!reader

——————————————————————————

Long ago, when you were just a young lady, you befriended a child just your age. An outcast, but you still talked to her. Your father was a swordsman, and one that has received a blade from Master Eiji. Your father respected Eiji, often times still visiting the old man for memories and to train with him.

You were never really close to your father, but you were close to Eiji. Often times, when your father was away for business, you’d be staying with Eiji and helping alongside him here and there.

One day, you ran all the way to Master Eiji’s place to show him something cool that your father had given you. You opened the door, only to find another child around your age, a little bit shorter, holding large iron tongs while Eiji was doing his thing.

“Master Eiji, guess what my papa got me!—“ You looked over at the other child, who was staring at you very closely and almost surprised. What’s a pretty, young lady like you doing here? You were dressed nice and seemed to be far too delicate to be around sharp blades.

Eiji held up his finger, then motioned for the child to hand him the tongs. “I see you have ran all the way from your home to show me…let me guess, another hair pin?” You eagerly nodded, running over to his side and squealing about the gift your father had given you after he had returned home from whatever business he had.

“So..who are you?” You curiously asked as you turned around to face the child, who was still looking at you in awe. You noticed her blue eyes, which seemed to be so clear and mesmerizing. They were like the color of the water—so blue and pretty.. Noticing that she was staring, she cleared her throat.

“M-Mizu. Uh, I’m just staying here..” Mizu said as she scratched the back of her neck. Oh god, was she falling for you already? Well, why wouldn’t anyone—you’re so pretty and you look like an angel in her eyes.

Days turned into months. Then months turned into years. Each time that you could go down to Master Eiji’s place, you’d always be a ball of sunshine with something to talk about. Whether if it’s some hair pin your father gave to you, or a new skill you learned, you’d always talk about it to Mizu. That was until you had to move away.

Here you are, mumbling and grumbling in the cold weather while stomping your feet in the snow. Now you were a grown woman, and one that was forced to learn all the arts of being a ‘perfect wife’. You threw the charms in your hair and the hairpins to the ground, frustrated that your father had set you up with a dumb, old nobleman. You had to excuse yourself from the room and immediately ran outside to attempt to calm yourself.

“Damn, angry much?” A voice spoke out from behind you. You turned around, your first instinct was to throw one of your hairpins at the person. But they caught it with two fingers, just inches away from their eyes behind those tinted glasses. The person smirked, pulling down the tinted glasses to reveal their blue eyes. “My god, is this the treatment I get when I finally find you again?”

That voice. It was Mizu! Absolutely delighted, you immediately gasped and ran over to her, immediately tackling her into the snow while hugging her tightly. She chuckled, hand on your back while you wrapped your arms around her waist while wailing. “I missed you so much! Oh my god, you can’t believe the bullshit my father is putting me through!” Mizu only smiled, sitting up against a tree while you sat in front of her, complaining and wailing about how your father’s trying to marry you off to some man! That part made her a tad bit pissed off. A beautiful woman like yourself being married off to someone certainly not worth your time? Fuck no. Is she going to duel this guy to perhaps steal you away instead? Yep.

“Seems like you want out of this, right?” She said after you finally stopped complaining, now just curled up beside her and leaning against her arm. You nodded immediately. You now just noticed she has grown. You used to be taller, but now she’s the taller one! And my god are her hands—wait, are you growing feelings again? “I want to see this man. I’m going to kill him, you’re not marrying some snobby asshole today.”

Much to your annoyance, Mizu had fought her way through your guards and marched on into the estate with ease. You followed after her, trying to get the guards to stand down but they won’t and Mizu ends up knocking a few of them off. More mess for the cleaners to deal with. Until she kicks down the door to the room your father and that suitor was in. “My god, this is the guy? You couldn’t even find a suitable man for your daughter?” Mizu groaned, rubbing her temples in annoyance before she pointed her blade at the guy. “I want to duel you. For her hand, of course. Don’t worry, your loss will be swift and it won’t hurt all that much considering how you have no real talent.”

“You? Some beggar boy against me? Princess, do you have any idea how stupid you are?!” The man yelled, standing up and kicking over the table. Your father glared at you, also yelling at you how unladylike it is so choose white trash over a real man.

Ah, that ticked Mizu off, and you already had a feeling this guy was about to get his ass whooped.

Nothing better than to sit on a rock in your backyard, watching in amusement how your drunk, clearly reeking of alcohol and a snobbish piece of trash of a suitor was holding a sword against Mizu. Mizu stood there, circling the man carefully while her blade was pointed right at him, waiting for him to strike.

One, two, three You counted down, and Mizu strikes just as you hit three. You watched very intently, leaning forward as Mizu absolutely decimated that poor man. “Beat his ass!” You loudly yelled to cheer on Mizu, in which you received a slap on the back of your head by your father, who wasn’t at all happy. Mizu glanced over at you and smirked, determined to win your hand in marriage.

“Got you,” Mizu casually said as she swung her leg out and tripped the man, making him fall face first into the snow while the tip of her blade rests right beside his head. He groaned in pain as his body collided into the snow and grunted, yelling about how Mizu was no man, but a monster from hell.

“You did it! I mean, of course you did!” You loudly shouted as you ran over to her side, pulling her into a big hug while she wrapped one arm around your waist. You looked up at her, finding a small smile on her lips before she kissed your forehead.

“You’re mine now, Princess.”

——————————————————————————

a/n: sishwjsibesjhsbs

#writing fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #fandom #send me asks #i finished it #fun idea #writing for fun #writing #x reader #finally done with this thought!!

[jksprincess10]

The neigbhor’s daughter 2.Pool party

A/N: Got so much love on part 1 that I wanted to write more. This is totally @itgetsdark-x​ ‘s idea. 

Summary: You sneak into Joel’s backyard to use his pool. (pre-outbreak Joel x reader)

CW: Use of pet names, fluff, smut, fingering (f receiving), handjob, semi-public sex (pool), overstimulation, unprotected sex, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 36). 

PART 3

Since you two spent your first night together, Joel felt like a teenager again. He had lost at least 10 years. He smiled more; he had more energy.

You would steal short moments together behind your dad’s back. You liked the thrill of it. He would pay more attention to you when he was working in your dad’s backyard, catching up on the lives you lived before meeting.

It was a warm Tuesday; the sun was hitting hard. Joel insisted that your dad rested so he wouldn’t catch a heat stroke and he was working alone on the deck, shirt off, curls damped with sweat. You had brought him hand squeezed lemonade and you were chilling in the backyard. You had invited a high school friend over, whom you rarely saw. You two were sipping on your lemonades, admiring the view of Joel’s body behind your tinted sunglasses.

“So you’re gonna tell me what’s the deal with him?” Samuel asked as he saw how you were staring hungrily at the man’s figure… Joel probably couldn’t hear behind the constant thumping of his tools hitting the wood.

“New neighbor. Really good in bed. Dick twice the size of Chad’s.”

“Damn.” He looked at you, shocked. “You’re fucking the neighbor?” He whispered. “To be fair, he’s quite hot. And Chad’s dick was small.”

“Sure as hell am. And he’s very straight sorry.”

“How old is he anyway?”

“36.”

“Not too bad. I had sugar daddies way older.” Sam laughed and took another sip of his cold lemonade. “Does your dad know?”

“Of course not. I don’t think he would take it… badly. He just doesn’t need to know everything.”

“Fair. You’re playing a dangerous game, though.”

You shrugged it off. Joel looked up at you two and smiled brightly, before he swiped his palm against his sweaty forehead.

“And he has a kid?”

“Yeah. A kid who’s conveniently sleeping at a friend’s house tonight. And I’ll be conveniently “going to your place” and I’ll come back “very late.” You said as you mimicked quotes in the air.

“Got’cha. If daddy calls, you’re drunk and passed out in my bed.”

**

You did go to Sam’s place for a few hours, but you came back discreetly after diner. You sneaked in Joel’s backyard, where could still hear him working on the deck. Your dad was nowhere to be seen.

You did a small gesture towards him over the wooden fence. He understood the message and put away his tools. Joel disappeared for a bit, probably saying bye to your dad. While you waited, you took off all of your clothes and jumped in the lukewarm pool.

At that time, it was dark enough and the fences were high enough to hide your nakedness.

He crossed the fence and sat on one of the patio chairs, not looking at you, just relaxing with his eyes closed.

“Your dad’s going to bingo right now.”

You went closer to the edge of the swimming pool, like a mermaid preying on a lost pirate.

“Thank god for old people activities.”

“Bingo’s fun, you should try it, hun.”

He was still not paying attention to you, so you sent a wave of water his way, damping his dirty jeans. Joel groaned angrily, until he finally laid his deep eyes on you.

“Goddamn.” He swore under his breath. “You’re crazy.”

You winked at him and swam away.

“Stop, I spent most of the day staring at your sweaty and sexy ass, now it’s my turn to tease.”

He got up on his feet and rapidly discarded all his clothes, while your gaze was analyzing each of his movements. You admired his tanned skin and the way dark hair was trailing down his soft tummy.

“Pretty fast for an old man.” You teased.

Joel climbed down the stairs to the pool and swam to you, in the deepest part of his pool. His arms circled your waist, and he pulled you close, holding you above the water. He pushed your body to the nearest border, where you could hold yourself.

“I’ll show I ain’t no old man.” He responded in a suggestive way.

His hands trapped your body against the border of the pool while his lips found yours. He had been waiting all day for this, only to feel the simplest of your caresses. Joel dominated the exchange completely, his tongue exploring the deepness of your mouth, his teeth hitting messily yours.

“How long can ya stay, hun?” He asked in the crook of your neck, where he left hot kisses. You felt his mustache scratching your skin slightly.

“I can say I’m too drunk and I’m sleeping at Sam’s…”

“I’d like that.”

His large and veiny hand traveled down to your breasts, your soft stomach, before stopping between your thighs. Your breath was stuck in your throat, before your lips let out a soft whine. Joel was a selfless man; he was more of a pleaser. He rarely let you please him, part of him was insecure and didn’t want to show his vulnerability.

Or… maybe he was afraid of getting even more addicted. He knew your time together was limited.

You pushed him to get to the shallowest part of the pool, where you could stand freely and comfortably on your feet.

“Wanna touch you, Joel, please. Can’t do that if I’m trying not to drown.”

He nodded, a small laugh escaping his lips. Your small hand disappeared under the blue water, wrapping itself around Joel’s member, that was already hard against his stomach. While you pleased him with lazy pumps, he took care of you, fingers circling your clit slowly, while one of them was splitting you open for him. You rested your head on his shoulder, so only him could hear the small sounds you were making. His large hand tugged on the back of your neck so you would look at him.

“Want the whole neighborhood to hear you, sweetheart.”

His hoarse voice sufficed to triple your excitation, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Joel’s rhythm was getting rougher and sloppier as you were trying to do the same for him. You were done hiding your reactions and you moaned his name freely. His breathing was heavy, and he was struggling to keep up while you touched him. He pushed your hand and you let go, so he could concentrate on the intensity of his caresses on your heat. You held onto his shoulders and your back arched as you were freed from the knot in your lower stomach, your mouth letting out a final cry. He helped you through your orgasm, and let you go when you had enough.

“C’me here, I have an amazing idea.” He said with a satisfied smile.

You followed him to a particular side of the pool.

“D’you think you can hold on to this side? Yeah, just like that. Lift your legs up for me, spread them towards the spray here.”

You did as Joel instructed, while he helped with holding up your body. You struggled to find the right angle. But when you did, you moaned as you felt the pressure of the water jet that was assuring the movement of the water in the pool hitting your clit.  Joel was behind you, on his feet, hands grabbing firmly on your skin to hold you up. Seconds later, he was thrusting fully into you. Your body was getting used to his intrusion, and you took all of him well. He whispered soft praises to your ear, that you were covering with your moans.

One of your hands went around the back of his neck to support your body.            You were feeling very overwhelmed with every sensation.

“Can you cum around my cock, sweetheart?”

You nodded and concentrated on the overwhelming sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud constantly, and the feeling of him filling you up with each thrust. Your body tensed, and he encouraged you through your orgasm, your walls tightening around him. Even though Joel was struggling to keep up, he kept going at his own rhythm, concentrating on chasing his own high.

The water was still splashing on you, so you had no time to get down from your high. You just had orgasm after orgasm, as your nails were leaving marks on Joel’s neck. You were probably loud enough for everyone around to hear you.

When he felt you getting tired and limp, he held you strongly, and fucked up into you harshly as he bit into the skin of your neck. You felt him finishing between your walls, and then he took you away from the side of the pool, spinning you around to look at you.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He praised before kissing you tenderly. You melted into his touch lazily, tired.

**

Joel left you on his messy bed after helping you get dried up. He went to take a shower, leaving you alone. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, only wearing your panties.

A text from your dad made your phone vibrate.

Everything O.K?

Yes. Gonna spend the night at Sams. Drunk lots.

You felt bad about lying, but it was necessary.

You mean Joel’s ?

Your heart dropped.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, dad.

Saw you going to his house b4 I left. It’s ok.

… Sorry.

It’s okay. He’s a good man. Just be careful, ok?

Joel came in his room, wearing a grey towel around his waist. You barely looked at him as you were typing on your phone. He could see that something was wrong by the look on your face. So, he put on his boxers and laid next to you, looking over your shoulder.

“Everything okay?”

You almost jumped as you heard his voice and left your phone on the bedside table.

“Yeah. Dad knows.”

Your neighbor felt like he was losing you at that exact moment.

“But he’s okay with it!” You quickly added as you saw his expression drop. “He says you’re a good man. Plus, I’m a grown woman.”

He could finally breathe when you reassured him. Joel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. You looked up to him and played softly with his damp curls.

“Am I still a good man after what happened tonight?” He playfully kissed your lips. You rolled your eyes at him and punched him softly.

“You’re the best, actually. Stopped counting my orgasms. Now, let me sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #Joel Miller x yn #dbf ! joel #neighbor ! joel miller #dbf ! joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal smut

[rhadamanthes]

The chosen one. demon!Toji x reader

word count : 3,5k

warnings: reader is kinda dumb, oral f receiving, face sitting, choking (very light), mention of spanking, horns tails and inhuman attributes, breeding, biting, obsessive behavior, clueless reader kinda, scent kink, soft toji, fluff,

You close the door behind you, happy to be finally home. You quickly take off your shoes making your way to the bedroom you stop in your tracks seeing a man looking out the window. At first you freeze and take the nearest weapon type of object you could find. But then you remember that you made a complaint about the window not properly closing in your bedroom so that must be the handyman that came to fix it! Odd that he's already inside before you but whatever if it means that you wouldn't feel the cold air seeping through at night you don't care.

"Hello! Are you here to fix the window? Did you find the problem?" you say in a cheerful way.

"Get out" the man answers in a stone cold voice not even facing you.

You freeze at his tone but don't take it personally. Some people hate presence around them when they work and you understand that 

" Sure i'll leave you to it but can you just tell me if you find the-" "Get out of my house" he repeats louder not even letting you finish your sentence. 

He's facing you now and the color of his eyes strike you, a deep green that reminds you of emeralds. Analyzing the rest of his face you notice the scar on his lips and his slightly tanned skin. He sure is handsome but his rudeness puts you off. And then his words hit you "his house" what did he mean by that you moved in a couple of weeks ago to get closer from your workplace. Looking around you recognized your personal items, so you didn't enter the wrong door. What the hell is happening?

"Huh i think you're mistaken I live here" you laugh nervously. One of his hands goes to your neck applying light pressure on it. You close your eyes shut, scared of what's coming next. But nothing happens and his hand is so warm it almost makes you want to moan. When you open your eyes again you gasp in surprise, the man before you have changed in a blink of an eye. Horns are now adorning his scalp and a grey veil has fallen upon his eyes but you still clearly distinguish the rich color of his orbs. This doesn't even feel real , is it a prank ? Standing on your tippy toes you touch his horns with your index finger to make your mind up. It feels like wood under your skin they're as black as his hair but glossy "Oh my god real horns". He dashes backward at your touch  if you weren't so close you would have missed it. He is so fast. He looks surprised from your act, his eyes are wide.

"Sorry did that hurt, I was just curious I'm sorry" you blurt in embarrassment.

 "Just get out." He growls. 

You see something moving agitatedly behind his back, focusing you realize it's a tail  as jet black and glossy as his horns.You don't have the time to make another observation that he is pushing you to the door. You dig your feet in the ground balancing your body weight back to stop him as best as you can. He growls still pushing you. Damn he's strong as hell. in a last attempt to reason him, You turn around looking him in the eyes.

"How can this be your house? I've been here two weeks and it's the first time I'm seeing you!" you say trying to sound menacing. 

If you believe your eyes this guy is most likely a demon or another cursed celestial being that you are not aware of and he is clearly overpowering you so you better start to put your game on.

"You think i'd show myself with all these stupid movers going back and forth?" he tones angrily "No one has ever stayed this long" he says diverting his gaze from yours. 

"Wait so the water damage was you?" he nods "and the power outage?" another nod "the window?" you ask defeated slumping your shoulders. He almost looks guilty nodding once more. 

"Why did you stay through all of this?" he asks genuinely curious. 

You let out a long sigh " This is working for me. It's close to work and the neighbourhood is nice. It's the best apartment I've ever lived in by far so a few technical difficulties doesn't seem like a lot compared to what I had before."  You take his hands in yours shivering at the warmth again "Look I'm sure we can make this work, I'll arrange a bed for you and I'll leave you to your occupations whatever they are" you say hopeful, not being sure what demons do in their free time. 

"And what makes you think that I want this ? I've been living here for more than 20 years" he scoff

This makes you wonder how old he is, his kind sure not age the same as human "Wow that's a lot of sabotage" you say, still not fully grasping what's happening. A smirk crosses his lips at your words. 

"Fine I give you one week if I'm not satisfied by then you'll be out." 

You squeal in excitement hugging his large body. The heat that emane from it is surreal but once again horns and tail so you don't mind. He is quick to push you away hissing in a cat manner before disappearing down the corridor.

 ✿      ۪⋆

You passed your trial week with flying colors ! Living with a demon was not as terrible as you thought it would be. He's calm and mostly roams around the house at night. You tried to see what he's doing when he's up but he always senses your presence and stops when he knows you're around.  It  took him 8 days to reveal his name : Toji. A beautiful name and yet he always seems surprised when you call it. Through the course of your roomating you learned that his demon attributes are most of the time present, You asked him once if it hurts when he hides them and he just gave you one of his dead stares that constitute an answer on their own. The  difference is his eyes, they're not always in "dark mode" as you like to call it, the veil only appears when he has strong emotions. You find it cute but will never tell him he'll kick you out for sure or worse. Having him around made your day significantly less gloomy, sure he is not talkative and doesn't contribute a lot to the chores of the house but knowing that he'll be here when you cross the door makes you feel lighter. It's like having a pet. You chuckle at that thought locking the door behind you. Time has passed now and it's been almost three month since you first moved in. You could say that he warmed up to you, a routine installed itself. As soon as he hears the door click he comes to greet you in his own way. He takes the coat from your shoulder and sniffs it in various spots. The first time he did this you didn't know how to react just staring dumbfounded. Then he told you that he could smell another demon on your clothes and ever since you've been trying to figure out who could be one at your workplace. Today is no exception. 

"Have you found it yet?" he asks, hanging your coat, you shake your head negatively. He then proceeds to dip his nose in your clothed collarbone. He goes down to your chest under your arms  and down to your rump. 

"Toji!" you squeal pushing his head out of your body "Stop doing this, seriously" you say trying to sound strict but you're all frustrated from his proximity. 

"Your period is coming" he says with a sly smirk, his tail swishing slowly behind him. 

Heat rises to your cheeks and you rush past him to hide in your room.Sitting on your bed and saying to yourself that you need to sit down with Toji, set boundaries and be firm with him. He actually listens to you, sometimes you go on and on  about your days. He sits attentively making witful comments. The only problem is that he distaste being told what to do. You let your back hit the mattress, a sigh escaping your lips, maybe you need a bath first to relax before confronting him. 

Robe in hand you enter the bathroom, you gasp upon seeing Toji in all his devilish glory lounging in the warm water. His head is laying back, his large body hidden in the water while his tail rests on the side of the tub. His eyes are closed but you distinguish a smirk playing on his features. The anger bubbles up in your chest, you stomp your feet on the floor.

"Toji! I told you to warn me when you use the bathroom!"  you yell losing any ounce of patience you had left. His tail taps against the tub showing his annoyance, he always does this he even spanks you with it when he's mad at you for something you did or said. 

"You're very unpleasant today, did something happen at work?" he says, yawning.

"I had a long day and I just want to relax so get out."

"Uh uh I just got in you better join if you want to get cleaned up" he states rolling his head your way to look at you. 

In defeat you put your hands over your eyes, when did he become sassy ? The colocation was great this far, you're too tired to argue and you'll never earn his respect if you bend to every of his whims. Making a quick work of your clothes you throw it in his face to blind him while you get into the tub. The warm water engulfes your naked  body, you're able to relax, still holding your knees close to your chest, hiding your breasts. You close your eyes unwinding at the soft sound of the water hitting the sides of the tube.A swirl of waves tickle your body, you open your eyes. Toji's back is now facing in your direct eyesight, you never noticed how many scars litter his body, you kind of feel bad, even if he's a demon he never hurted you, and even appears friendly from time to time. Did people of his kind do this ? or was he mistreated amongst humans ? Is it the reason he isolates himself ?  Before you can ask your questions he shakes his head left to right like a wet dog. You understand his silent request, applying shampoo on his scalp mindful of the horns on top. The more you rub circles motion the more you hear a faint vibrating noise coming from him, is he purring ? You accentuate the pressure and it gets louder. You stop your movement, shocked at your discovery, that's so cute! His tail wraps around your wrist urging you to continue. You oblige, going for a few more minutes before you let your head rest on his back, tired of holding your hand in the air, he is so much taller than you ! Sticking your ear to his skin , from this close the sound you heard earlier is more like a fire crackling. That would explain the body temperature.  

Washed and dried you tend to your skincare routine while toji lingers in the bathroom. His towel hangs low on his hips, you can't help but wonder if his devil attributes apply down there. Heat rises to your cheeks. You try to focus on which product goes to your face next but you only think about seeing him naked now. you close your eyes, biting your lips.  A familiar churn grows in your belly you haven't got laid in so long you're about to act up. When you open your eyes again, Toji is right behind you, the veil has fallen upon his eyes, you turn to face him concerned as to why it appears now. 

"Are you o-"  "I can smell it" he cut you off. You gaze at your hand "The cream ? yeah it's a botanica-'' He cut you off again but this time it's because his head is crooked in your neck he takes a big sniff out of it like he's scared you would disappear. He tries to go down again "Toji! i already told you to-" "You're excited, i can fucking smell it" he reply looking in your eyes. 

You're mortified just standing in front of him exposed, at your depravity. Of course he would smell your arousal, he smells other people on your clothes, so your own scent won't go unnoticed.  He's bent over you, eyes wide, tail buzzing behind him like he's ready to pounce on you. And he does, locking firm arms around your back you're engulfed in his chest as he breathes in your scent  from your temple down to your shoulder groaning in the process. Suddenly he lifts you on his shoulder rushing through the door. He crosses the corridor fast and drags you to his bedroom. He dumps you on his bed and you look around, he never allowed you in his space before. It looks like a nest, it's dark, the bed is in the middle of the room. Clothes are laying on the ground and they're forming a spiral around the mattress. You recognize some of yours that you haven't seen in a long time. You furrow your brows not sure about what's happening here. 

"Toji what's all of that" you say in a meek voice. He closes the door and rushes to join you on the bed "It doesn't matter hm it's just you and me" he says caressing your sides. 

You nod your head hypnotise by his behavior, his voice so deep and calm he's touching you with care he almost looks high, is it his state when he's horny ? He must really want you, but you want him to so you don't care. Placing your hands on his cheeks you initiate a kiss. You go slow at first testing the waters, and he follows. His lips are softer than you expected, you move against them in a soft waltz before you let your tongue enter his wet cavity. You lap at his muscle but freeze when you notice that there are two you break the kiss parting his lips with your thumb. He sticks it out revealing a forked tongue. You gasp incredulously, touching the tips with your index. There's so many things that you still don't know about him, but for now you need to find out how it feel against your clit 

You untie your robe in a hurry, a devilish smile spreads on his face as he admires your naked body, he lodges his head between your tits licking at the skin, his hands busy themselves kneading your breast. Your head falls back at the sensation his skin is so hot against your own, a content moan escapes your lips. Straightening his back he lay on the mattress ushering you you straddle his face, you waste no time encasing his face with your thighs slowly putting more and more weight on him. When your pussy lands on his face you moan in relief, he nuzzles against it, licking at your fold never touching your sweet spot. Starting to feel impatient you grab on his horns pulling lightly. He groans, letting the tips of his tongue tickle your clitoris, you exhale loudly, his muscle feels rough against your sensitive part, his tongue doesn't glide on your folds, it sticks like scratch tape in your most sensitive area, the repeated motion builds tension in your belly. If you weren't so desperate you'd be ashamed to be ready to cum this fast but you need  it so bad, you start grinding on his face holding on his horns. You close your eyes feeling your orgasm on the edge of a release.

"Toji don't stop" you breathe erratically

He lays his tongue flat against your clit as you keep humping it until your orgasm crashes over you. You're shaking uncontrollably and you feel like the air has been taken out of your lungs. you slowly regain your breath while toji bites at your inner thighs. You pet his hair and he pins you against the mattress extending his tongue to lick your cheek. He can do that too ? you grunt in both amusement and disgust. Positioning himself on top of you, he free his cock from the towel and your jaw drops. Not only is he big but the sides of his penis are rigged with bumps. You swallow hard not knowing if he is going to fit inside of you. Toji laughs at your reaction.

"Want me to go down again?" he coos, patting your thighs with his tail.

You shake your head standing on your elbows. Is it weird if you want it to hurt a bit? You want to feel the stretch and every rig. You've already cum once and you're so excited it should be okay.

"Then relax i don't want to mate with a wood board" 

Hurt at his words you're about to snap back at him but he captures your lips with his. Laying your back on the cover he licks and kisses your  temple, his hands kneading your shoulders you feel like a trapped mouse.

"Relax, hm not going to hurt you on purpose" he murmurs against your skin. 

Tired of his banters you lock your arms behind his neck and bite on his shoulder as hard as you can. He moans loudly letting his weight rest on your body, you feel his cock against your tummy as he starts to rut against it, your teeth sink deeper on his hard skin. You push on his shoulders looking at him in the eyes. 

"I want it please" you beg shamelessly. 

"I know it, you smell like a depraved minx" he smiles. You cringe at the nickname looking away 

He sits back on his feet, positioning your legs on his shoulders. He caresses them a few times nibbling on the skin of your ankle. He takes his length in his hand slowly entering your hole, your mouth opens at the sheer size. You extend your hand begging for support. Toji intertwinds his fingers with yours and you relax when he's all inside of you. The tears in your eyes are ready to fall at any given moment. He pins your other and next to your head crooking his nose in your neck folding you in half as your legs rest on his shoulders. The demon starts slow movements grunting in the comfort of your walls, the wetness allows him to glide easily. Your mouth is open letting out  pained noises that turn into moans when he hits your soft spot. the rigs of his dick kiss perfectly your gummy walls. you let lewd moans escaping your mouth not caring about the neighbor when you feel so good. 

"Better than your toys ?" he rasp looking at you through veiled eyes.

The humiliation settles in and you turn your head to avoid his gaze. You indeed have a drawer full of toys but he wasn't supposed to know. his tails prod at your chin to redirect you his way. You look at him through teary eyes.

"I- I've never been fucked like that before" you stammer 

He grunt in response going impossibly faster, weakening your spot with every thrust. The familiar sensation builds in your lower part again and you cry desperate to earn it again. You kiss and nip on his cheek as a silent plea, his tail snake between your bodies to massage your clit. Your back arches off the bed at the double stimulation. You chant his name over and over until your vision blurs and your legs spasms around his head. Toji hiss as your walls clench around him through your climax. You lay limp on the bed squeezing your demon's hands encouraging him to finish. When he does you gasp once more, at the amount of cum he is tainting your insides with.  You're both catching your breath and he lays next to you. 

"So you wanted to talk ? Or you just needed to be stuffed to stop being moody"? he purrs.

You don't have the strength to answer, you hit his chest lightly. He catches your hand grazing his teeth softly against it. You fall in a deep slumber with a satisfied smile on your lips. On his side Toji can't keep his eyes off you. All of those times he heard you pleasuring yourself he wanted to burst in and take you there and then; But he couldn't it was too early instead he would dig through your hamper and collect your dirty clothes. Now that he has you, covered in his scent filled with his seed, he has all intentions to make you the centerpiece of his nest.

#anime smut #jjk #jjk season 2 #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #toji smut #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk toji #toji zenin #fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader smut

[mind-player]

Purge

Durge is beginning to wonder whether it matters if they make it to Bhaal's temple and if it would be better for the others if they didn't.

And Astarion, despite your constant protests, cannot helplessly stand by and watch as you pour out the contents of your stomach and then eventually all of your questioning thoughts along with it.

Warning! Suicidal thoughts/questioning

Words: 2,040

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Astarion was quick to wake from his trance just from the absence of your presence at his side. He felt the place with cold fingers, realizing the blankets still had some of your warmth. The fire everyone circled around in their bedrolls was freshly tended, alive again with a new log added to the flames. 

The vampire quietly got up to avoid disturbing the other companion's rest and began to sense where you might've run off. He strained his ears, and it didn't take long for him to pick up the sound of a specific someone retching in the distance of the forest. Astarion made haste, not wanting to let you suffer alone for a second. 

A selfish part of him wanted to tell you again that it was alright to snap him awake whenever this happened, but he was fast to conclude that the morning would have to do. As much as he's gently brought it up, he did also understand your discomfort at the thought of him seeing you throw up last night's dinner. 

But still, they were in this together, Bhaal be damned. And he knew you wouldn't hesitate to do the same for him. Hells, you've asked him for a kiss even when he was covered in blood and viscera, his hair more than just slightly askew, and his face sore with cuts and bruises. Sure, he couldn't look into a mirror, but he could still feel that the grime and exhaustion were evident to anyone at camp.

Didn't matter to you, though. You would call Astarion beautiful every time, and he'd readily call you a liar. And you'd say with a smile as golden as your heart, "Prove it." 

He never could. 

Astarion finally came upon the vision of you keeling over on your knees. Your hand was your only leaning support, pale and clammy from the night's cold on a tree stump. The only contrast was the red and scabbing marks around your wrist from being tied up every other night. 

"Don't look," you croaked, your voice hoarse and tired, ready to deny his help. 

It was rare that you would let yourself sleep sometimes, especially after what happened to that poor bard you so eagerly let join camp without even a hint of suspicion on your mind. Astarion was irritated by your being so open and careless, and all you had to say was that you missed the sound of a bard's music. 

And you were punished for it. 

Astarion remembered the last day you would ever trust your body around anyone. Not even your thoughts were safe in your mind, for fear of them crawling out and unleashing murder upon your companions and, God's forbid, on Astarion. Even the idea of that happening made you ill, but your mind would force you to see it in your dreams, and your slinking Bhaal butler would provoke the strength of your will.

It was only inevitable and natural that you'd be sick to your stomach with all that on your shoulders, your mind. 

"You think this is the worst I've witnessed in my two hundred years?" the elf questioned, and he chose not to move forward, not without further consent. 

"No," you answered truthfully, letting your hand slide down the rough bark for you to fall back on the balls of your feet. 

"Then please let me help you." 

"I," you started, taking a shaky breath. "I don't think you can." 

Astarion could tell from your voice alone you were on the brink of tears. And as much as the vampire just wanted to take all of that pain away and rip it to nothing but shreds, kill any God that causes it, and ascend himself victorious so that it could never happen again, he couldn't. Not yet. He remained where he stood. 

"What do you mean, my love?" he questioned softly when you didn't continue. He could always be sincere with you when you so effortlessly were, especially in such moments. 

"I just hate this," you responded, nearly crying aloud. "I know you said we can fight this together. And I want to. Gods, I want to. But sometimes, I just wish my mind would stop for a second. Just to let me be me around you. The me that you know and the one I want to be. But I don't think I ever will." 

He didn't say anything, letting you say what he couldn't bear. 

"I'm going to die," you whispered, giving out and leaning onto your side. "And if my body doesn't, I know whoever was on this journey with you definitely will. So what does it matter if it all just stops now?"

Astarion almost couldn't believe his ears. Such a dreadful question slipped through the lips of an angel who soothed everyone's worries and selflessly promised devotion to countless others regardless of their own self-preservation. 

Some say vampires are unfeeling creatures with no heart, none that craves to beat for anything other than the thrill of power. But, of course, if anyone ever proved them wrong, it was you. 

And if there was anyone to tell Astarion he was worth more than his looks, his body, and his charm, that he was a person just like everyone else who could be valued, trusted, and loved so readily, it was most certainly you. You were the only one to give him even the slightest hope of defeating someone he had revolved around for two centuries. You were the only one to tell him he could finally stop surviving and start living. 

You were the hope of every tiefling, your companions, and him. Hearing you, seeing you finally break, was enough to bring him to his knees, and the thought of genuinely losing you made his heart fall. But not for one second was this only about him. 

A silence fell over the two of you until he finally gathered his words. 

"When I discovered you, I remember being so furious. After all, how could there be people like you out here all this time? Just waiting to save someone's life, end their torment, their worries," he tried to explain without his voice trembling. 

"You were so naive yet so relentlessly kind, constantly worrying about right and wrong, weighing every decision and then being the one to bear the consequences of them, all on your shoulders. And not once did you expect anything in return from anyone.

"So, please, consider when I hear you ask if it matters if you keep existing in this world, even if it's for a moment longer, that it does. Gods, it does. It's indisputable. Because this world is already so starved of people like you," he said, his chest aching with every word. 

Hot tears threatened to well in his eyes, tears he hadn't known since he was still in that wretched dungeon being tortured alive. 

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about you being lost forever compared to so many other evils they've slain along their journey. There were so many in this world who no one would miss, who no one would even consider a moment to remember, and Astarion thought that, with all his faults, he might as well have been on that list, too. 

But everyone would most certainly miss you. Probably would throw thousands of flowers on your grave each year, speak exciting stories of your adventures with all you've done, put up a statue of you, and honor you for centuries to come. 

He would so desperately miss you. When the others finally abandoned him and left him to his own devices or back with Cazador, he would have forgotten how to love again, knowing that you were the only one he could care for. 

Astarion watched as the hand that supported you on the ground clenched, intertwining your calloused fingers into the grass. You turned your body to finally face him, shining tears from the firelight staining your cheeks. 

And all of that and everything else he could've said to convince you otherwise must've been conveyed in just one look because he was finally seeing you. Your sweat-damp brow was furrowed in pain, your white-knuckled grip released the delicate blades of grass, and all your pain from your stomach to your head and mind was brewing behind your reddened eyes. Tired eyes. 

"I'm sorry," you eventually cried with shoulders quivering, and it was all Astarion needed to come crawling over to hold you in his arms. "I didn't– I shouldn't have–"

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all," Astarion vehemently told you, shaking his head. "Everything that's been asked of you forced onto you, would test anyone." 

You wept, sniffled, and apologized, and the cycle repeated, but Astarion never once ran out of quiet, comforting whispers. 

It continued until it eventually came to a slow end, with you resting your head on his shoulder and his hand rubbing against yours. Your legs were numb from how long you both had sat there in that forest and if you could feel, maybe even a little cold- not because of Astarion. Never because of him. 

While basking in the comfortable silence that befell both of you, you still couldn't help but sigh and shake your head. 

"What is it, my love?" he asked so gently as if the words alone would make you fall apart again. You never hated yourself more for dumping your doubts, worries, and dreads on him. 

"It's stupid," you said, actually meaning that you were stupid in a sense. 

"Try me."

You hid your face further into the crook of his shoulder, feeling that familiar warmth spread across your cheeks. 

"I just remembered how much I didn't want you to ever see me throw up... and you get something ten times worse."

Astarion laughed and said, "Compared to the monstrous atrocities we've seen throughout this journey, this is more akin to sunshine and a bed of fresh roses. I don't mind."

"Really?" 

"Yes."

You squinted in suspicion at him and persisted, "Not even a little?" 

Astarion quirked a brow. 

"Well, I could do without the snot on the only shirt I possess," he joked, earning that gorgeous smile he missed so dearly, "but if it means you're still here, together with me, then no, I genuinely don't mind. I'm not going anywhere." 

The latter part of his words sounded so irrefutable and clear to your ears that you almost forgot everything ahead. 

"Even if I turn into a monster?" you asked him.

"The day you turn into a monster is the day that bears will fly," he answered, silently thinking about how different you were compared to him. "But if that still somehow manages to happen, then what's the harm of being monsters together?" 

"That'd be so terrible," you told him, shaking your head with a smile. 

This was nice. Your dark thoughts were quelled and momentarily replaced with the idea of you and Astarion, the future you two could have if you somehow managed to live through all this. What would it be like, you wondered. 

You imagined a house somewhere in the city, perhaps a townhouse. You'd both live messily; all the treasures you hoarded over this journey would be scattered everywhere when first moving in. Curtains would be closed, but you'd like to imagine them open with a smiling Astarion basking like a cat in the sun he adored. 

Alive again. With your love's heart beating so strongly with your ear pressed up against his naked chest as you both lounge in bed, doing nothing in particular. 

Then it crossed your silly mind that you wanted that. You wanted to see that someday, even if it might not have been in the cards for you. But when have the chances ever not been slim? And how many times did you beat them until now? 

That future, that hope, was enough to fight for. 

That acquainted quiet settled once more before you finally whispered a vow only to him, "I'll defy him. Whatever it takes." 

Even if it meant dying. 

"As will I," he answered, and you knew who he spoke of. One day, both of you might be free- truly free. 

#astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #astarion x dark urge #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 durge #bg3 dark urge #bg3 #dark urge tav #fanfiction #fanfic #comfort #tav #durge

[morlao]

Traitor

▪︎Luke Castellan x fem!reader

▪︎daughter of Ares

(the story takes place during the last PJ book -> you, Annabeth, Percy and Grover have just entered Olympus and are about to meet Luke/Kronos)

Warnings:

• mentions of blood

• no happy ending

☆ ☆ ☆

You freeze as you spot him.

Those striking eyes, once loving and gentle, now cold and distant. The single strands of hair, that fall into his face. God, you loved playing with his hair while lying in his lap. Or running your hands through his hair while kissing him.

“Luke” It has been a while since you last said his name. You try to avoid it as good as possible, as it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue since the day he turned out to be a traitor. Damn, that day was still as present as ever…

Percy lying in bed in the infirmary and telling you all about Luke´s betrayal… you standing next to his bed, not believing a single word he said… not until you noticed that Luke had disappeared.

In that moment your heart broke so violently, that you still wonder how it was possible that nobody heard it. Your perfect world broke apart within seconds.

Luke was your first everything. The first person you met at camp. The first person you trusted. The first (and only) person who you have ever been in love with. Your first kiss. Your first boyfriend. Your first time. And the first person who broke your heart.

Of course the whole camp was also very suspicious of you. You were Luke´s girlfriend – everyone knew that. The two of you were as close as one could be, so if he was a traitor, you had to be one as well, right?  They branded you the spy and avoided talking to you for months. How was that fair?

If it hadn´t been for Percy, Annabeth and Silena – who constantly comforted you, kept acting normal around you and scolded other campers who terrorized you – you would have run away a long time ago. Camp Half-Blood no longer felt like home.

Luke, your boyfriend. Luke, the traitor. It was damn hard to believe that they were the same person.

Of course you also blamed yourself. You were his girlfriend, you should have paid more attention! You knew that something was going on with him. 

You felt that he acted slightly different, even though he tried not to show it to you. He has never spoken about the gods with respect or fascination, but it was the first time that he sounded this bitter.

“They don´t care about us, Y/N” he told you while you were sitting at the shores of the lake.

“Who?” you asked, your feet dangling just inches above the cool water.

“The gods… they are cruel and selfish…they always let teens fight their battles”

In that moment you thought that he referred to the scar he got on his quest. In retrospect, he probably meant much more. Did he think of betraying the camp back then?

From that day on, you lost him more each and every day. He still spent most of his time with you, he still kissed you and made you laugh but then he also seemed so distracted, so distant.

"Dont worry, princess. I just had a bad dream", he told you every time you noted that he looked stressed.

You took his hand, softly stroking his palm with your fingers. "You know you can talk to me about it"

He just smiled, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. "I know, my love"

Before, he has never avoided these topics. You remember feeling like you couldn't get to him anymore. And then – suddenly he was gone. Disappeared without a word.

The first time you saw him again was roughly three months later. He was lying in wait for you when you were just leaving the camp to visit your mother. He jumped out of the shadows and grabbed your arm, nearly giving you a heart attack.

At first you were afraid. Afraid of the boy you had loved with all your heart – and probably still did.

But he didn´t come to hurt you, instead he tried to convince you to run away with him, to join Kronos with him. He tried more than once – to be honest you lost count of how many times he tried – but every time you rejected him.

The gods aren´t perfect, but fighting against them is not the right way to go. Doing so would cause the exact opposite of what he actually wants to achieve.

You could clearly remember the last time he spoke to you, maybe five or six months ago.

“Y/N, please! I love you! Take my hand, come with me! You know that I fight for the right thing!”

Now you stand in front of him again. Well… you´re not sure if that even was Luke anymore. How much control does Kronos have over him?

Slowly he turns towards you. “Y/N” Luke´s voice is shaking. He seems to be fighting an internal battle, which Kronos wins.

As Percy and Annabeth start talking to him and trying to talk sense into him, you just stand there, petrified, not knowing what to say. Were there even words to say in such a situation? If yes, then Kronos doesn´t give you the time to speak them.

He attacks and the three of you give your best to keep him at bay. In the meantime Grover plays the flute, trying his best to support you.

You clutch your sword. For the first time in your life you truly hate fighting. You are as brilliant and intimidating as usual – of course you are – but still you hate fighting against the boy who once owned your heart. With every blow and every stab you are afraid of hurting him.

Maybe you are too soft to be the daughter of Ares. Would he understand or would he be disappointed?

During the fight Annabeth constantly tries to talk to Luke/Kronos. About Thalia, about their time before camp. Sometimes one might think that a small glimpse of Luke shines through.

A firm blow hits Annabeth and throws her across the room. She was lucky that it was only Kronos´ arm and not his blade. She could have been dead in a second.

“Luke” she tries to speak, but she almost can't get a sound out.

“Annabeth”, you shout, as you understand what she is trying to do. Her grey eyes search for yours, begging you silently. You give her a reassuring nod. Truly, a brilliant girl.

You gather all your strength and step forward. “Luke! Luke, can you hear me? I know, you´re still there.”

Kronos freezes and watches you, giving Percy the chance to scurry over to Annabeth.

Trying to suppress the tears that well, you force yourself to smile. You try to remember all the beautiful moments that you and Luke shared. Holding hands while walking around camp, watching the sunsets while enjoying some snacks, gentle kisses while sitting around the campfire.

You don´t want to believe that this Luke was gone. He has to still be there, somewhere underneath the monster that Kronos created.

“Do you remember my birthday?”, you ask him, while watching him intensively to see whether that triggers a reaction in him. “A few days before, I had told you about the chocolate chip muffins that my grandma used to make. You baked them for me, remember? And on my birthday you came to wake me up really really early in the morning. Clarisse almost murdered you for throwing pebbles on the cabin window, remember?”

You chuckle as you figuratively see your sisters face in front of you. Gods, on that day even you were afraid of her.

“You wanted to watch the sunrise together, remember? At our spot.” You search for a sign, for any sign, that Luke hears you. That he is still there. “The spot where you first kissed me. Do you remember that? The shore of the lake.”

Kronos´ expression changes. “Y/N”

Luke! Your heart skips a beat as you hear his voice. Is it enough? Have you gotten through to him?

He stumbles towards you, trying to suppress Kronos for at least a few seconds.

“Do you remember the gift you gave me?” You ask, your voice now lively, excited even.

Slowly Luke nods. “The silver bracelet with the forever symbol.”

“Exactly!” You laugh out, the first tears streaming down your face. “You want to see it?”

Luke´s eyes widen. “You still have it? You… you kept it, even though I…”

“Of course I kept it.” You roll up your sleeve and show it to him. You thought about throwing it away a few times, but you never had the heart to do it.

Maybe you kept it as a reminder that the time with Luke was real, maybe because something deep inside you hoped that one day you would wake up from this nightmare and find out that all of this was just a dream. A really bad dream.

Luke looks at you, frowning deeply. You notice how hard he tries to not let Kronos break through. How much longer can he keep this up? A few seconds? One minute?

"Do you still love me?”, he finally manages to say.

You look at him. His eyes. His beautiful eyes. “Yes, I always did.”

“Enough!” Kronos´ voice echoed across the room. Luke lost control. Something dark hisses through the air and shortly afterwards you feel a sharp pain shooting through your body.

At first you don´t realize what happened, you only hear Annabeth and Percy scream. Then your legs give away and you fall to the ground. Blood. On your hands, on your shirt.

The sound of clashing weapons. Annabeth and Percy have thrown themselves back into the fray in an attempt to push Kronos away from you. They scream Luke´s name, trying to help him get control again.

The image blurs before your eyes. The wound is too deep. Too much blood.

“Y/N!” Luke. He managed to suppress Kronos. Hopefully longer than a few seconds.

Annabeth and Percy look at you, tears streaming down their faces. They hesitate, not wanting to come too close as they want to give you and Luke some privacy. Nevertheless they stand ready if Kronos takes over again. 

Immediately Luke hurries over to you and falls down on his knees beside you.

It became more and more exhausting to keep your eyes open. “Luke” you manage to whisper, your voice breaking.

“I´m here.” His voice is as soft as you remember it. As soft as it was on the day he told you he loved you for the first time.

You try to lift your hand, but you don´t have the strength to do so.

“Please don´t die”, he whispers as he slowly starts stroking your hair. He keeps repeating his words, begging you, begging the gods, begging Kronos.

You blink and try your best to smile. However, due to the pain that rushes through your body, it becomes more of a grimace.

“I love you, Y/N”, Luke tells you, unable to hold back his tears, “Please forgive me”

And as you close your eyes you can feel his lips softly kissing yours.

Faith. Even though all these years he has made the worst decisions one can ever make, you're sure he's finally going to do the right thing.

#percy jackson #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #daughter of ares #traitor #percy jackson series

[throneofsapphics]

stay in the moment with me

young!Rhys x Reader

Summary: "I don’t want to be alone tonight," with Rhys

Warnings: none

A/N: for this! I couldn't resist so its technically a continuation of the other side, and you don't have to read that first but it might add more context!

“Stay,” he mumbled, arm reaching out towards you, his body sprawled over the couch. 

“It’s my apartment,” you rolled your eyes, “I can’t leave.” 

From the corner of your eye, you watched him shuffle himself up to sit, and motion towards the space he’d cleared. “Then sit with me.” 

A huff, and you stalked towards the kitchen, ignoring his discontented grumble, and returning with a full glass of water. 

You held it out to him, other hand propped on your hip. “Drink it all.” 

“Are you poisoning me, darling?” He asked, but tipped the glass back before you could answer. 

“If you’re going to be this obnoxious, I'll stay somewhere else tonight,” you said half heartedly, like hell you’d actually leave. 

Faster than you thought he’d be able to, consider he was still drunk off his ass, he reached out and caught your hand. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

It sounded as close to begging as you figured the future High Lord would ever get, and you took pity, staying with him until drunk snores started leaving his lips.  

-

The tossing and turning, and thump of a body hitting the floor had woken you. The small tang of fear is what had you moving. Nightmare. You knew those all too well, well enough you couldn’t stomach not at least checking on him. 

Two feet planted on the cold floor, footsteps - you froze - Rhysand’s footsteps, heading to your room, and a second later a small knock. 

“Come in,” you called, voice still rough with sleep.

He looked pitiful. Dark hair mussed, a haunted look in the violet eyes, face paler than usual. 

His eyes trailed to the empty spot next to you, and you saved him the need to ask, motioning towards it with one hand, and an exaggerated sigh. Hearing his low chuckle, you quickly shuffled back under, pulled the covers tightly over you, and faced the wall - away from him. To seek comfort from you, of all people, he must be desperate. 

The bed shifted, and you felt surprisingly … relaxed. Your breaths began evening out, and you were thankful for the extra warmth, considering how cold it had been. At least males were good for that.

“You’re thinking loudly,” he cautioned. 

You were grateful he couldn’t actually see you because your cheeks flushed and you slammed your mental shields closed tightly enough that pressure ricocheted through your skull, and you had to take a second to re-focus on the present. 

His low laugh drew a warning snarl from you, and he quieted. 

“Go to sleep, Rhys,” you sighed. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that.” 

You ignored him. 

Maybe an hour or so later, you felt his arm wrap around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest, and decided you were too damn tired to fight him on it. It was cold, after all. 

You didn’t remember that decision when you woke in the morning, his legs tangled with yours, arm holding you tight to him, like you were some kind of gods-damned lifeline. Based on his light breathing, he was awake, and knew exactly what was going on. That infuriated you, slightly.  

“Didn’t take you for the cuddly type,” you commented, your morning voice more of a croak.

“And here we are,” he sighed - but didn’t move. Maybe he was as touch-starved as you were. Could it be platonic affection if you didn’t actually like each other, couldn’t stand each other? 

It felt nice, and you found yourself not hating his touch, so you didn’t move. He’d started it, and he could end it whenever he wanted to - later on, you’d blame it on being tired and cold. 

#acotar drabble #rhys x y/n #rhys x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

[limerence-17]

Staring- Rick Grimes

basically rick pulls u aside for a chat but you admit your feelings and he doesn’t expect that…not even a bit.

also guys weeeoooo this gif ok bye i’m shaking a bit now

warnings: 18+ not intended for minors. explicit sexual content, age gap.

*****

It wasn’t that you didn’t stare at Rick, because you did. Ever since you turned 22 the thoughts had become more precarious in your mind.

Maybe it was the way his voice husked watching him threat others to protect you and his family, or the way his hips swerved walking through Alexandria. His heavy breathing anytime the two of you fought, knowing it would always result in consolidation.

But it was the way his anger was due to his undying devotion to you that turned you on. You’d been lying to yourself by saying that it didn’t. Ever since you’d gotten to Alexandria it was practically all you could think about. His scratchy salt and pepper beard between your thighs.

Jesus, stop thinking.

It was no use.

Practically everyone had noticed your stolen stares. Rosita especially. She had a knack when it came to flirtation and she wasn’t afraid to call you out on it. Each time you’d stared at his down set eyes, followed by his lips, then his crotch but only for a split second.

It wasn’t until one particular night in Alexandria that you realized just how obvious your stares had become.

It’d been a quiet night, only the sounds of crickets and the stars above were out. It was calm, tranquil even. You’d been walking back to your house after spending the evening with Carol and Judith. It was one of the first nights in a long time when you hadn’t thought about Rick. Ever since your feelings had taken over.

It was then that you noticed a small light on in front of Rick’s house, and he’d been standing there. Staring at you with a stern look. His breathing was heavy and he looked relatively well…pissed off.

You tried to look down at your feet, shuffling them, looking anywhere but at his gaze. But his cold tone stopped you in your tracks.

“We need to talk.” Rick commanded, his voice low and husky.

You knew he was standing on the steps now, stepping closer towards you. It frightened you. The thought of you turning around only to meet his stern gaze.

Rick was loyal to all of you but when he was angry… Jesus he could be terrifying.

Slowly you turned, trying to look anywhere but him in eyes.

“About what-“

“Inside. Now.” Rick’s low voice boomed, placing one hand softly on your back as you guided you up the steps and into his house.

He guided you until you sat down on his couch. The silence was deafening and you noticed as he paced slightly, rubbing his temples as if he was piecing together his next words.

“Rick what is this ab-“

“N’uh you don’t talk. I do and you listen.” He said, pointing towards you, but still avoiding eye contact with you.

“If Rosita said something-“

This appeared to set Rick off. He stopped his pacing and glared at you, his head tilting and breathing increasing. He was wearing a blue button down which was tucked into his black jeans and belt. His curly hair a mess but god he smelt so good. So manly, so lustful. Those thoughts you thought you’d pushed down for the evening only crept back up.

“Rosita? Rosita? What the hell does this have to do with Rosita?” Rick said, his thoughts scrambling.

I furrowed my brows, now more confused than before.

“You tell me? You’re the one who just dragged me into your house all sheriff like. So you tell me Rick, what am I in for?” I said, now glaring at him.

“I think you know damn well what this is about,” Rick spat. I noticed as his gaze moved ever so quickly from my eyes to my cleavage.

Shit, did he have the same thoughts as I did?

“So you heard…”

“Yeah, I heard.” Rick declared, tilting his head growling as if this offended him.

“I didn’t think it was that obvious. It wasn’t supposed to be at least… it was just a stupid crush, nothing really I swear.”

Rick stopped, this time his expression softening.

“What?” He asked.

“What?”

Oh fuck.

“Someone told you about how I felt about you, right?”

Rick paused, collecting his thoughts. I swear I could’ve seen a small smirk.

“No.”

“I wanted to ask you about leaving your gun post last night,” He said, his voice a little shaky.

Oh my god.

“Right…. gun post….”

Rick smirked, a blush coming over me naturally. He tilted his head, scoffing slightly.

“But I also wouldn’t mind hearing about your feelings-“

“No! I mean- I just- I-“

Rick stepped closer, a wave of intimidation flood over me. There was something about his mannerisms, his stance that felt so threatening, even when it wasn’t.

“Cause if it’s feelings that you have for me, thoughts, whatever… I’d be lyin’ if I said I haven’t had them either.”

He was standing over me now, my eyes looking up directly at him. I must’ve looked so innocent, so scared, so fragile. How did this night come to this?

“Yeah… I think about you… I think about you all the damn time.” Rick groaned, his husky voice cracking slightly at my submissive glance.

“Well then…” I spoke out in practically a whisper. I didn’t know what to do, or how to act. This was only something I’d prepare for in my dreams. Not in reality.

“Get up.” Rick demanded.

I stood up, noticing as he walked closer towards me briskly, causing me to stumble slightly backwards until my back was pressed against the wall. I felt the wall behind me. There was no one for me to go. He was predatory, animalistic even with his movements. His heavy breathing and cold stare remaining on me. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t turning me on.

Rick leaned in closer, inhaling heavily as he tilted his head, his nose practically on my neck. Taking in every piece of me as if he’d wanted this for quite some time.

“Say the word and I’ll stop. I will stop.” Rick said, but it sounded more like a beg, as if he’d wanted this more than I have.

“Don’t stop,” I hushed.

Rick looked back at me, nodding with his eyes half closed, as if he was drunk on desire. With that, he grabbed the nape of my neck, pulling me in for a deep kiss. Passionately letting out slow groans and he begged his tongue for access into my mouth.

I granted his access, feeling the warm of his mouth against mine, his scratchy beard across my chin. But I didn’t care, this moment was pure heat, giving me both chills and warmth at the same time. I felt his lips move to my neck, as he placed slow kisses across my neck, slowly down to my neck. He took his time. God he took his time. I wanted nothing more than to let out a moan.

His hand traced across my hip, then to my waist. His fingers carefully played at my waist, placing his fingers into my shirt, drawing soft lines against my skin.

“N’yuh need more,” I let out between sloppy slow kisses.

Rick paused to look at me, nodding in approval as if he knew exactly what I wanted next.

“Get on the couch,” his low voice boomed.

I lay back into the couch, unsure of his next move. I’d only ever predicted what he’d do in my head but god, this was so much better.

He slowly crawled so that he was on top of me. Rick lifted my shirt up slightly, planting soft kisses on my stomach, then slowly moving up so that he kissed my chest. He motioned for me to take off my tank so I did. He softly grabbed my breast, looking up for approval and I nodded, so overwhelmed with the sensation.

He lapped his tongue slightly around my nipple, placing his whole mouth over, letting me give into the feeling. I noticed as his hand moved towards my cunt, although he couldn’t tell that I was already soaking only through my jeans. His rough hand moved slowly over me through my jeans, and I tightened my legs only for Rick to pull his mouth away and forcefully spread my legs open.

“No.” He husked.

“You don’t to get to be ashamed of yourself.”

Jesus, I couldn’t help but feel myself getting even more turned on.

Rick pulled teasingly at my zipper, slowly unzipping and I felt myself squirming in both excitement and nerves. He let out a low drawn laugh, smirking as he pulling my pants down, including my panties.

There I lay, exposed, nervous but he only paid attention to my lips once more, now on top of me, his knee between my thighs as he kissed me this time more gentle.

He pulled away, slowly tracing his way down between my legs. I shivered as I felt his fingers slowly brush against my slit, I noticed his expression twitch.

“Jesus girl, you really this wet just for me?” He smirked again, maintaining eye contact with me.

“Can’t help it, you do something to me.”

Rick tilted his head, laughing slightly. He positioned his head between my legs, looking up at me.

God your tongue, I need your tongue please.

“Gonna need you to use those words now,” Rick said, looking at me then back at my clit. It was as if he was just waiting for me to give him the green light.

“Please-“

“What was that? Gonna need you to speak up-“

“Need to feel your tongue…against me…” I grunted slowly, wanting to squirm but his legs were gripping my thighs so that there was nowhere for me to possibly go.

With that, I let out a short gasp as I felt his mouth suction against my clit. He was forceful, hungry even. The way I heard him let out grunts as he sloppily ate me out. Moving from my clit, to inserting his tongue in me. He looked up at me, grabbing onto my breast but not losing focus from my clit.

He was so starved, so submissive in this moment. I could hardly look at him I was so overcome with every nerve in my cunt that felt everything at this very moment. My hands moved from running my hand through my hair in desperation to his hair, which I eventually gripped with my two hands.

Rick pulled away for a moment, then asked me something I didn’t expect.

“You’re gonna touch yourself now.”

“I- what?”

“You trust me?” Rick asked, slowly coming up to kiss my neck again. I folded like a doll. I couldn’t help it with his raspy voice in my ear.

“Yes Rick,” I let out a slow moan as I started lazily lapping circles around my clit with my index and middle finger.

“That’s a good girl,” He said. Butterflies instantly.

I felt lost in translation as he kissed me slowly, me feeling his crotch against mine as I started to increase my tempo. From below me I let out a gasp between kisses as he inserted one finger, then two. He curved his fingers up. They were so rigid, so strong. He hit exactly the curve I needed.

“Thereee ya’ go,” Rick groaned out, his lips still in front of mine.

“I’m gonna make you cum now.”

Instantly he tempo increased, fingers moving in and out of me like he needed this. He desperately needed me to cum. I kept my rhythm going against my clit but god it was getting hard with Rick hitting my G spot every damn second. He was quick and hard.

“Take it girl, take my fingers I know you can. Jesus Christ,” Rick husked as he looked down for a slight moment, his gaze then focused back on me.

I couldn’t hold on much longer, I felt my orgasm pulsing and drawing in. Without instinct, I pulled my fingers away, gripping at his back under his shirt, scratching him harder down his back.

“Rick I’m gonna-“

“I know. Cum for me.”

It was all I needed to hear, I gasped, shaking slightly as I felt like everything fell into place until I crashed. Breathing heavily laying on my back.

Rick slowly pulled his fingers out, licking them in front of me. I shuddered at the sight, it consumed me.

“Still wanna talk about those feelings?”

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes #daryl dixon #walking dead smut

[myabsurddreamjournal]

Fate

(part 1)

Soldier Boy x Fem! reader

Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.

warnings: None, im a ace so my character and story is going to be asexual💜

she slowly approached to cryo where they kept him frozen. it has been a while since she had a opportunity to do this. Since she was taken here they always kept an eye on her, watching every move, punishing any sign of disobedience. It didnt take long for her to learn to be silent, be obedient. scar on her arm reminded her to keep her mouth shut every time she wanted to question something they do. She still remembered the pain. It was her second week here, and she made a mistake of asking why they kept him frozen for almost 40 years. She got the scar for her mistake. The sound of her bone breaking... She could still hear it.

Teardrops started to fall from her eyes as she opened the door of cryo, whenever she was alone she was crying now. It almost became a ritual, sitting on floor with her head hanging low while confessing and apologising to him. Who looked like a statue of a almighty god.

"Hello Ben" she opened her mouth. It made her feel weird hearing her voice saying something other than "yes", or "sir"

"its september 19 today, your birthday isn't it?" she was crying harder now. "i read your file other day. It says you had a rough childhood, me too you know, and now we are both prisoners here. What a fate huh?" she looked at his face as she said that. He looked pale, too pale for human. Well he was in this damn lab for almost 40 years...but deep down she liked the thought of him being something other than a human. Humans always hurted her after all.

After watching the torture tapes she learned he experienced pain and anger just like her. (she threw up all night after seeing the tapes for the first time) he had a life once, he was a child, he had a family. favorite food, favorite drink, he even smoked weed which made her a bit shocked when she read it on the files. But in time she found out he was a lot different from what they made him seen. She saw the few unaired interviews where he acted strong and confident as usual until he was asked about his family or childhood. His eyes getting teary for few seconds, Then his hard expression getting back. His mouth twitching every time journalists made a rude remark.

She knew he was a human. But him being alive after all things human did to him told her he was also something other than human.

and it made her feel good.

"i never wanted to be here, i never wanted this, she said. "i wish i could save you. If i had a powers like you, i would burn here to the ground. And kill all of them. But im so weak. Im so sorry Ben. Im so sorry." She waited there for few minutes. Her head between her hands. Until tiny beeping sound from her watch made her flinch. Telling her it was almost midnight. She needed to get up. Too many work tomorrow. Another day as a prisoner here

She cupped his cheek before closing the door of cyro. It was so cold, but still soft. She couldn't help and kept her hand there while looking at his face. His closed eyelids, then freckles on his nose. Still remembering the first time she noticed his freckles, it was one of the days where her legs hurted for being on her feet for so long. She was taking his blood for monthly test. And she saw them. He had freckles on his nose! They were never shown in his movies or pictures, always hidden behind makeup or his green-gold mask. But they were here. She found them adorable. Never showed it of course. keeping hidden behind her cold emotionless expression.

But she often find herself thinking about him when she tried to sleep at night in "room" they gave her. what else he was hiding under all that persona? What made him happy or sad before all this happened? was it true that he never cried? She tossed and turned at night. Sometimes thinking about him and sometimes thinking about her life. The similitaries between them. Humans hurted him just like they hurted her. They stole their life. She usually fell asleep with this thoughts. And in her dreams it was always end of the World. Everything burning in flames and she watching it from distance with smile on her face.

with a deep exhale she withdrawed her hand from his cheek. "see you tomorrow Ben." she whispered. And she was gone. Not knowing that he heard every word.

that night, she dreamed of something else for the first time since she was captured. Pair of green eyes. They were looking at her. Their shade reminded her a small lake she saw everday when she was a little girl. It was on the right side of the road that she used while walking to school. She always loved the way water moved in small waves. After 2 years, for the first time, she woke up with a warm feeling that morning. it felt like gentle morning sunrise.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #the boys #the boys imagine

[reaveries]

▬  a warm place for numb fingers (18+)

summary: after a conversation with a friend, tension arises between the reader and arthur. action is ultimately forced into her hands... or fingers, more like.

pairings: high honor!arthur morgan x female!reader

warnings: mature content (18+)// explicit descriptions of fingering, cunnilingus, and some good ol' fucking

word count: 5.7k (estimated 23-minute reading time)

a/n: this goes out to all the cold and horny girls out there. i see you and i salute you. enjoy the fic

masterlist archive of our own

The chill was an inescapable thing and it followed her closely wherever she went. It burned her face red whenever she emerged from the mining town cabins. When she’d been forced to ride against it in fierce storms, it possessed her hair to lash violently across her cheeks in a blinding fury. And once those storms passed, it continued to insatiably lap at any skin left exposed to its gnawing teeth. Numbness in her fingertips became commonplace, leaving her defenseless as her trigger finger trembled beneath thin leather gloves. Like a starved coyote, the chill searched for any scrap of flesh it could find and devoured it to the bone. It wasn’t forgiving, as nature often isn’t.

She draws her coat closer to her body now, but the little winds continue to hungrily nip at her cheeks and dust them pink. What once ravaged her has become meek since they’ve descended the peaks of the Grizzlies. But it’s still there, and will continue to be until spring thaws the world. 

“Can’t believe I’m lookin’ at one of the most wanted outlaws this side of the Dakota.”

She looks up from her feet and sees Karen smiling, holding a cigarette between her fingers. She brings it to her lips and draws out the smoke.

“God, if the Pinkertons knew how big of a baby you really are, maybe they’d have tried their luck in Colter,” she says with a cheeky grin.

“That’s the only way those fuckers could’ve taken me down,” the outlaw says, laughing bitterly into her scarf. “I’ve never done well in the cold. Every day that I wake up and can’t feel my toes, I’m closer to packing up and fleeing to New Austin. Thinking of building myself a house made of cacti.”

She walks through the frost-laden grass to where her friend stands, overlooking the Dakota river.

“You’re fulla shit,” Karen says, rolling her eyes. “The day you leave this bunch will be the day God, himself, shoots you off your horse. Got too much love in your little heart for the lot of us.”

The woman chuckles dryly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Got too much love for you, Karen,” she says in a sickeningly sweet tone and leans in, tilting her head dramatically to the side as if to give her a sloppy kiss.

“Get the hell away from me!” Karen screeches and fumbles to push her away. 

The outlaw stumbles backward lazily with her head thrown back in laughter.

“You play around too much, you know that?” Karen says, shaking her head, but the forceful tug on the right side of her lips gives her away. 

She smiles down her nose at the blonde woman, “Yeah, that’s what I keep hearin’.”

Once they both settle down, Karen extends the cigarette to her, offering whatever she can manage as it quickly dies out. She takes it between her forefinger and thumb and lets the smoke warm her from the inside.

“You know what I overheard some of the workin’ girls sayin’ when I was in town?” Karen speaks up as the smoke escapes the woman’s throat. 

She hums in question. Words out of the mouth of a working girl can hardly ever be taken for truth, but damn if they weren’t entertaining.

“Apparently, the number of clients they get skyrockets in the winter months. Somethin’ about men subconsciously wantin’ to be warmed up so they seek out activities that make ‘em break a sweat.”

She nods, “I guess that makes enough sense.”

Karen shakes her head, “That’s not all. The girls were also sayin’ that as it gets colder, the men are more and more riled up. Almost like it’s something with the moon, but instead of turnin’ into the dogman, they just wanna bury themselves in a woman real bad. But all I’m hearin’ while these girls are sayin’ this is that we got ourselves a bunch of fools too dumb to think clearly down in that little town.”

She stomps the life out of the cigarette with the toe of her boot, her spurs jingling as she drives it into the dirt. 

“Ain’t no way that’s true,” she says with a sardonic smile. “That last part, sure, but the moon’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

“Well, somethin’s gotta explain it,” Karen says and crosses her arms defensively across her chest. “I can tell ya, once it gets colder the men start lookin’ at ya different. I never noticed the link ‘till now but it kinda makes sense.”

She has to fight the laugh rising in her chest as she tries to seriously process the idea that men are becoming more aroused due to a giant orb in the sky. It takes everything in her not to but Karen sees right through her.

“It ain’t that ridiculous, you know. You can’t tell me you ain’t never noticed Arthur actin’ different.” 

The amusement rapidly drains from her face and is replaced by a look of bewilderment. 

“What are you talkin’ about Arthur for? Arthur and I are just friends, we ain’t like that,” she sputters out. 

“Oh, sorry,” Karen says, putting her hands up, “I forgot you was still on that.”

Her flustered reaction surprises even herself, causing a creeping warmth to crawl its way to her cheeks. A biting retort fumbles dumbly in her mouth.

“I’m not on anything. Don’t know what got in your head but it ain’t never been like that between Arthur and me.”

“It ain’t just in my head, honey. Everyone here knows it. You think folk ain’t seein’ the way you two touch up on each other the way you do? How neither of you goes nowhere without the other? Get real. It’s plain as day to everyone but yourself.”

She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder, hoping no one is near enough to hear their conversation. Instead, she sees that the camp has slowly come to life while she’d been distracted by Karen. Folk have begun their morning chores, migrating from washboards to clothing lines or splitting logs of wood in two. Her eyes flit across their faces until they land on the one she’s searching for. He’s far enough away, speaking with Pearson by the food supplies wagon. The cook waves his hands around animatedly but he’s turned away from her so she can’t tell what they’re speaking about. Arthur looks past the man and meets her eyes. He smiles and nods at her, to which she returns with a forced thin smile of her own. 

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Karen,” she mutters, and without turning to say goodbye, walks away.

And yet, Karen’s words burrow themselves deep within her mind and linger in the spaces between each normal thought as the day continues. Surely she'd been exaggerating and not everyone in camp suspects her and Arthur to be intimate with each other. Karen just thinks she knows more than she does sometimes. It was very much like her to be overly confident about certain things, proclaiming them as fact even past the point she knows she’s wrong. Then again, that also wasn't the first time someone had mistaken their closeness for something more amorous in nature. Dutch, having watched her throw an arm around Arthur and share from his bottle, assumed the pair had made themselves official. This prompted some proud fatherly spiel wherein he clapped Arthur on the back and congratulated him. It was vague enough that neither of them knew what he was referring to until later. Once they both realized, it gave them a good doubled-over, tears-from-the-eyes sort of laugh. But Arthur quickly cleared it up with the man, assuring him that there was nothing of that sort going on. Apparently, Dutch remained unconvinced.

As she sharpens her knife, an interesting thought intrudes past the others. For a moment, she wonders if Arthur might be an exception to this phenomenon the working girls were talking about. He never spoke of women the way that most men did. So, if he’d ever been interested in that sort of way, she wasn’t privy to it in the slightest. But, he’s still a man and he isn’t immune to the desires of men. Could it be possible that Arthur wishes for a woman to warm his bed at night? Or perhaps, on the coldest nights, a woman to warm himself inside?

Her blade slips against the whetstone and nearly slices her hand open as depraved imagery flies behind her eyes. She curses loudly and the knife drops to the dirt with a muffled thud.

A horse gallops and skids next to the hitching post beside her and the rider quickly flies off the mount, hitting the earth with heavy feet. She looks up from her hand and it’s him. There’s a pristine buck carcass flung over the back of his mare from a hunting excursion he must be returning from. 

“You alright?” He asks in a raised voice, meeting her with a walk that holds no patience. He looks down at her hands, likely expecting to see them covered in blood. His shoulders drop in relief when he can’t find any.

“I’m fine,” she says, standing up quickly and brushing dust off her pants. She forcefully clears her head of the intrusive thoughts, worried he might be able to see them if he looks too close.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, woman. Don’t know what I’d do if you went and chopped off your trigger finger,” he says, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“You’d have to find a new riding partner, that’s for sure,” she quips unenthusiastically.

A breath of laughter leaves his lips to tell her she’s being ridiculous.

“Naw… There ain’t no replacin’ you. Ain’t a single person here has what it takes to put up with half the shit you and I do. We’d just have to teach ya to shoot with four fingers.”

His tone is lighthearted but there’s a hint of sincerity to his words that makes her cock her head in intrigue. He notices the change in her expression and quickly backpedals.

“Ah, don’t let that get to your head, now! I can barely tolerate ya most days. There’s just… no denyin’ you’re one of the best shots here,” he says, avoiding her eyes.

She smiles smugly and pats his chest.

“Tell me something I don’t know, cowboy.”

“Like I said, I can barely tolerate ya,” he says, swatting her hand off him. “Anyways, you mind takin’ that buck to Pearson? I need to have a word with Dutch about tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” she says and slips past him to retrieve the fresh game. 

She hoists the buck over her shoulder and nearly gasps from the unexpected weight. The animal is nowhere near light and it’s a wonder he managed to cleanly take down the thing. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of her boot scuffling in the dirt as she steadies herself. 

She stumbles over to Pearson’s wagon and throws the carcass down on the ground. The cook is nowhere to be found so she figures she’ll save him the trouble and put her sharpened blade to good use. The knife cuts cleanly through the skin like warm butter, separating the hide from tender pink insides. As she’s making the final incisions, she looks up from the gruesome sight and sees Arthur talking to Dutch outside his tent. He seems relaxed enough, his hands resting on the buckle of his gun belt while he talks. It’s something he does often, just like someone might stuff their hands in their pockets for the sake of keeping them occupied. An endearing little action. And yet, for some reason, the common and utterly insignificant act of him doing this makes her forget herself. 

Maybe it’s the suggestion of him holding a different object hidden beneath the confines of denim, right below his loose grip. Because the longer she looks, a vision of him taking himself into a fisted hand begins to overshadow her mind. He’s lying in his cot, and while everyone else huddles together for warmth in their makeshift beds, he’s fucking his hand in the darkness of his tent. His eyes are screwed shut and his mouth is parted slightly, but no noise escapes his lips to save himself the mortification of someone walking past and overhearing. He quickens the pace of his pumping hand and breathes out a quiet, ragged moan as he coats his stomach with ropes of sticky seed. His chest heaves, then slows to normal before he wipes the evidence away with a worn shirt.

Arthur looks at her with a confused look on his face. He waves a hand slowly in mock greeting to rouse her from her dazed state. Dutch, mid-sentence, turns to look over his shoulder, but she averts her eyes before they can meet his. 

“Holy shit,” she whispers. She frantically finishes skinning the deer with her chin to her chest to hide the furious blush tormenting her cheeks. 

Once she’s finished, she practically sprints back to her tent before Arthur can ask her what her deal is. She closes the flaps hastily and goes to sit on the edge of her bed to collect herself. 

It’s not like she’s never fantasized about a person before, and she’s taken people to her bed more times than she can remember. This flustered feeling isn’t rooted in some virgin-like innocence, and yet she might as well be a pastor’s daughter with the way she’s blushing over it.

It’s because it’s him. He’s her partner. Her friend. Someone who’s grown to understand her better than she understands herself. She’s been the same person for him ever since they crossed paths in Montana all those months ago. Many feelings, albeit platonic, have come and gone since that fateful encounter, but lust? Lusting after a friend may be the most foreign feeling she’s stumbled upon in all her years of living. 

A griminess so thick and so palpable enshrouds her, weighing heavily, filthily, on her skin. And there’s only one solution that comes to mind.

She straddles the firmness between her thighs as it bounces rhythmically beneath her. A moan unintentionally escapes her lips in response to the merciless feeling down below. Her blouse sticks to damp skin and plasters itself lewdly against the curves of her stomach and chest as her hips rock back and forth. Another moan. This one more pained than the last.

Her thighs have always burned something fierce whenever she’d mount her horse directly after a bath. Soft, herbal-scented skin would grate against thick cotton of riding trousers, eliciting the pained gritting of teeth. But this time, the minor uncomfortable sensation is preferable, simple, compared to the complexities of her consuming thoughts from earlier. A hot bath was her saving grace as it turned out. It cleared her head and made her feel like her normal self again. Whatever thoughts she’d been having of her partner had been washed away and left behind at the bottom of the steel tub like some tainted baptism.

She rides through the trees that fringe the perimeter of camp and calls out to Javier, who stands guarding the entrance. He gives her a short wave, and nothing else. The two of them haven’t talked much, despite having ridden together for over a year now. Most of the men in camp tend to keep to themselves, she’s noticed. It’s a shame the talkative Irish man went and got himself killed in Blackwater. He knew how to have a good time. He always claimed the two of them were kindred spirits, but she heavily denied it each time since it read like an insult. 

She swings herself off the saddle and, like a moth to a lantern, migrates toward the fire to warm herself. The sun has sunk beneath the horizon and with it any amount of heat it provided, leaving her a shivering mess. Dinner bubbles inside the stew pot, prompting her to grab a portion before taking a seat on one of the logs.

The fire is reduced to glowing embers that do little to warm her bones. She nudges the logs with her boot but they just shift and plume ash. Sighing, she tugs closed the lapels of her coat and brings a spoonful of venison stew to her lips. The steaming broth slides down her throat and settles in her belly, making a furnace of her stomach. It’s a nice feeling, one that quiets her mind.

Suddenly, the log shifts as someone sits beside her. 

“Where’d you disappear off to?” He asks. “I couldn’t find ya anywhere.”

Arthur settles to sit hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, a bowl of stew in his hands. He’s wearing a dark long-sleeve shirt and a light jacket, but not much else to protect him from the cold. In fact, when she looks around, no one else seems to mind the chill as much as she does. Maybe Karen was right in calling her a baby.

“Nowhere special. I just had to go into town for a bit,” she says, taking another sip of the stew. 

He nods his head, “Had to go into town and get yerself a bath, huh?”

She turns sharply to look at him, her brows drawn together in confusion.

“I could smell the lavender oil the minute ya hitched yer horse,” he explains. “What’s that about? Are ya plannin’ on finally actin’ like a lady or somethin’?”

She shoves his shoulder with her free hand.

“Shut up Arthur. You act more like a lady than I do,” she accuses. “Also, it might do ya good to take a bath for once.”

That last part she says a little lower than the first. Sometimes when they’d be out on extended errands they’d bathe in the river together. But no matter how much he scrubbed his skin, the stench of cigarette smoke and sweat would linger in the closed tent when she lay beside him in her bedroll at night. She always put up with it though because it likely meant she didn’t smell much better.

“The hell’s that s’posed to mean?” He asks, looking visibly taken aback.

“It means you smell like—”

“Naw, not that. Whatchu mean I act like a lady?”

“Oh. It means you’re goin’ all soft, big guy. Take it as a compliment,” she says, trying to suppress a smile.

“Great. First Dutch, now you. I ain’t goin’ soft, girl. And I sure as hell ain’t turnin’ into a woman,” he says, looking away from her and shaking his head. “As if you even knew what it meant to be one. Look at yerself!” He adds with an indignant wave of his hand that gestures from the top of her head to her feet.

She doesn’t need to look. Her coat is crafted from bear and bison pelts, made to fit a man larger than herself because the trapper lacked the expertise to tailor one for a woman. It keeps her warm enough, which is all that should matter. Wearing clothes that flatter her figure ranks relatively low on her list of priorities when every day is a fight to not freeze to death. On top of that, folk have always been mighty eager to remind her of her femininity whenever she dared step outside the docile role of her fairer sex. Which, in her line of work, was often.

“I’ll have you know I consider myself an expert on the matter… ma’am.”

She starts to snicker but when she looks over at him his jaw is set and he’s giving her a side-eye that makes the noise die in her throat.

“Keep callin’ me a lady and see where it gets ya, woman. Y’ain’t gonna be laughin’ when I’m forced to prove myself to ya.”

If there was ever any heat being produced in her body, it's all gone and rushed to her face just now. She stares at him, unblinking.

“What?” 

“Mm, s’what I thought,” he says, bringing a spoon of potatoes and broth to his lips. “Now, if you’re done foolin’ around, are you comin’ with us tomorrow or not? Dutch said you might but I know you’ve got a lot on your plate as is.”

He said he’d prove himself to her. Prove that he’s a man. There’s hardly any innocent way to interpret that.

“Tomorrow?” She asks. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

He looks at her all funny-like, slightly annoyed even.

“Did you drink the bathwater or somethin’? The O’Driscoll told us they was all holed up in some cabin not far from here. Mentioned Colm is with’em. I only told ya about it a handful of times.”

She hears him but isn’t really listening. The phrase repeats on a loop in her head. She wants to ask him what he meant by it but the moment’s passed and she knows there’s no real answer. If asked, he’d just say he was teasing her and there’s nothing more to it. 

He calls her name, bringing her out of her stupor. She opens her mouth to say something but the wind picks up. A bone-rattling shiver possesses her, making her shrink inside herself. He stares at her, unphased by the chill but with concern etched into his handsome features.

“Sorry, Arthur. I- I don’t know where my head’s at,” she says through clenched teeth.

“S’Alright,” he says, looking her over. “I forget how sensitive you are to the cold.”

He sets his bowl on the ground and brings his hands to cup around his mouth, heating them with hot breath. He then takes her hands into his and clamps around them, transferring warmth to numb fingers.

“Jesus, you’re freezin’,” he says.

He brings her hands close to his mouth and repeats the same action, trying to warm them back to life with his breath. He presses into her palms, massaging heat from the pads of his fingers into hers.

Had he done this simple gesture for her yesterday, she likely would’ve just felt grateful to feel her fingers again. But today isn’t like yesterday. Yesterday, she wasn’t acutely aware of the ever-present moisture nearly dripping down her thighs or the dull, aching pain at her core as it practically begs to be filled by a man. Yesterday, she didn’t envision that man to be Arthur. She didn’t envision herself blissed out and bouncing on his cock, being guided by his hands gripping her ass and forcing her all the way down on him every time. She also didn’t visualize their sweating naked bodies pressed against one another as he hoists her legs around his waist and fucks her relentlessly against the side of his wagon. Yesterday was, without a doubt, much easier than today. Today she’d thought of all these things and more.

She watches attentively how he holds her slender fingers in the thickness of his own. Those hands have snuffed out the lives of many, brutally at that. She’d seen them wrapped around the necks of men, crushing their windpipes and severing their spines when he’d been provoked on the wrong sort of day. Lots of blood on those hands. But there’s just as much on hers and in this moment, those blooded hands are so tender towards her. 

If these same hands could kill without remorse, yet be so gentle when the time came for it, then by God, what else were they capable of?

She slips her hands out of his faster than she intended to.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she whispers, looking away.

“Sure. Maybe that’ll help ya to start actin’ normal again. Get the blood flowin’ to yer brain and such.”

If only he knew it was doing the opposite. Blood is flowing elsewhere and she’s the furthest from normal she’s been in a long while.

She stands up, leaving the bowl of stew unfinished on the ground.

“Here’s hoping,” she says, her hands clasped together to preserve his heat. 

Her boots crunch ice-bitten dirt loudly beneath their heels as she makes her way through the quiet camp and to her tent. She doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until the flaps close shut behind her. 

“What… What is wrong with you?” she asks no one. Her tent is empty, and even though she wants to be alone, this is no comfort.

Her palms dig into the concave of her eye sockets, rubbing them furiously to wake herself up. She groans and shrugs off her coat, letting it collapse onto the floor. Her boots are kicked off her feet and her shirt is made quick work of before it’s thrown violently across the room. Her pants meet the same fate, being unbuttoned and kicked off, then kicked again so they lie atop the other garments. She collides with her mattress in a huff and lies there to stare at the ceiling of her tent, chest rising and falling rapidly.

She’s not going to be laughing when he’s forced to prove himself to her. 

Why is that phrase repeating over and over in her head? More importantly, why is she closing her eyes and slipping her hand beneath the waistband of her combinations?

She pauses. It’s wrong to do this. So wrong. To touch herself with visions of him in her head is sick. But she needs it so badly, so desperately she needs this to be taken care of. The throbbing at her core ultimately wins over her conscience, and forcefully pushes guilt to the side.

Her fingers slide between the delicate folds down below, the slick moisture coating her digits easily. She imagines it’s his hand. Large and warm, playing with her and teasing out moans by dancing around her clit. He asks her if it feels good, but only incoherent noises leave her lips. 

He chuckles and the breath of his laughter hits her center as he dips his head between her thighs. Lips replace fingers, sucking and leaving open-mouthed kisses heavy with tongue, ravishing her like a starved man. Her thighs clench around him and her calves tremble against his bare back. She whispers praises to him when she can find the words. 

Please keep going. You’re doing so good. So good.

Both of her hands tangle themselves in his hair. She can’t help but pull on the strands the minute he slides his thumb inside her all the way to the knuckle. Her back arches off the cot at the sudden sensation but he pulls her back down, locking her in with a hand wrapped around her thigh. She can feel him smile against her, momentarily letting up the relentless forces of his mouth. He’s loving watching her squirm beneath him, because of him. 

But the combined sensation of his thumb fucking her and the concentrated movements of his tongue at her clit nearly drive her to the edge. She squirms and brings her knees up around him, causing him to pull away and leave her empty.

Ya have to keep still, darlin’.

He coaxes her legs back open, spreading them apart with firm hands. But before he can return, she whispers desperate words that fall sweetly on his ears. He changes direction and begins to kiss his way north, traces of her still on his lips as they press wetly to her stomach, then her breasts, and then her neck. While he trails up her jaw, she tugs down his union suit from where it gathers at his hips. He assists her clumsily by shaking it off his legs and kicking it to the floor, where it now lies atop her own discarded clothing.

Before he takes her, he hovers on rested elbows and searches her face for any sign of reluctance. Only half of his features she can see clearly as warm oranges and yellows flicker across it from the lantern at her bedside. The fringe of his hair tickles her forehead, teasing her into closing the distance between them. With a hand on the back of his neck, she brings him down to her level and connects their lips. Their mouths move roughly against one another, their noses squishing and bending against the pressure of their touch. 

He’s warm, so warm. His mouth is hot against her tongue and the points on her body where the two of them meet are ablaze with a fire that spreads down, and down, until it rests in a sweltering mess at the apex of her thighs. She needs him, were the words she’d whispered. And she needs him now. She reaches down between their two bodies to where his cock grazes against her legs and with a sure hand, takes hold of it and guides it to her entrance. She can’t see it but it feels thick in her grasp; her hold not permitting thumb and forefinger to meet. 

The head slips gently inside and opens her up to him with a slow, shallow movement of his hips. He removes his lips from hers and rests his forehead against her own, looking down and indulgently watching himself disappear inside of her inch by inch. It fills her deliciously, stretching her open until he eventually bottoms out and their pelvises lie flush with one another. She lets out a sharp exhale at the contact, knowing he’s sheathed fully inside of her. Before he moves again, she brings her legs around his waist and crosses her ankles so his movements are limited to being shallow and forceful. 

The cot squeaks beneath them as he pulls out and thrusts back in, slow at first. He quickly picks up the pace, pistoling his hips to give short thrusts that fill her to the hilt each time with a near-bruising force. One hand wraps around the meat of her thigh and another hand starts rubbing furious circles at her clit. She throws her head back with a wide-opened gasp at the explosive euphoric sensation of being filled by him and the simultaneous attention given to the sensitive nub. He goes even faster when he sees how close she is, and within seconds she unravels beneath him. 

She notices through her clouded gaze his brows screwing together and lips parting as her soft muscles throb around the swell of his cock. It’s too much for him. He hurriedly pulls out and releases himself on her belly, coating it with spurts of his seed. He looks at her breathlessly through hooded eyes.

The two of them lie panting, him still stationed between her legs with a heaving chest and weary gaze. He leans down and places a chaste kiss on the inside of her thigh before slumping beside her and laying there in his nakedness.

She cums hard against diligent fingers. Hot and tingly ecstacy spreads from her core throughout her limbs, fluttering her eyes to the back of her skull and leaving her a panting mess. Once that passes and the drowsiness that always follows a dumbing climax sets in, she realizes she’d conjured a strange ending to her fantasy. It was one of genuine intimacy, not driven by the carnal desires of her body. 

Thankfully, sleep takes over before she can begin trying to process whatever that means. She drifts off as remnants of pleasure buzz beneath her skin and warm her beneath ticking sheets.

Morning comes quickly, and the accompanying chill of a new day forces her off the cot in search of heavier clothing. She pulls fleece-lined chaps over jeans and buttons them at the waist before throwing on the bear coat she’s worn every day since Colter. As she slips her arms into the clothing, she thinks back on last night. There’s no reason to make a big deal of it. Surely men get off with much worse ideas in their heads about the people they know. She hopes all of that is behind her now that it’s been forced out of her system.

But this is not the case. 

This hope is massacred in vain shortly after being conceived. For the day is ablaze with yearning, shame, and raging inferno. 

Accompanying Arthur to the hideout was soon realized as a mistake. Every small, inconsequential thing he did served to stoke the fire blistering her loins. Every word whispered atop the secluded hillock, every incidental brushing of skin, and every intentional one too. It all fanned incessantly at consuming flames.

She rides back to camp alone with heavy pockets and a heavier conscience. And as she approaches the grounds, she sees her friend, the blonde woman, standing guard outside. Without thought, she throws her reins and swings herself off the horse, hitting the earth hard and swift. A blustering storm brews inside her, fighting against fire and losing. She approaches Karen, treading heavily over branch and stone, a wild look in her eyes.

“Karen!” She calls out.

The woman turns to face her, her rifle lowering just as quickly as it’s raised.

“Oh, it’s just you. You here to tell me I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about again? If so, you can keep on walkin’, bigshot.” 

She sighs and runs a frustrated hand through her wind-tangled hair.

“No! No, I- I didn’t mean it,” she says, with an unmistakable sound of desperation in her voice. “Karen, you were right.”

Karen’s tensed shoulders sink beneath her coat and her features soften. She doesn’t seem to understand, but she’s no longer angry. It’s difficult to be when her friend stands before her, uncharacteristically vulnerable and fumbling with words.

Whatever forces are at work here, be it the chill, the moon, or an unknown third thing, it can be certain she is out of her depth, adrift in deep ice waters. And he is calling to her like a siren’s song but she knows it is an illusion she has conjured up and there is no solace allowed to be found there. He cannot take her like she needs so deeply to be taken by him. It would ruin them, for certain. Because they are not a wholesome people, and despite that, their bond has been forged by goodness. Something like that is uncommon for folk like themselves. It should be held closely, protected from whatever may destroy it, even if it is from herself. It’s for that reason she withdraws her hand, rides alone, averts wandering eyes, and tries her utmost best to quench the flames.

And yet, it has been only a day. 

“You were right.”

#red dead redemption 2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #rdr2 fic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur x reader #smut #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption smut #arthur morgan x reader smut

[bon2bonn]

My kind of perfect

Charles leclerc X female!reader

📚 🌧️ 🏎️

Words count : 1.8k

Cursing for the hundredth time underneath your breath through gritted teeth as you walked through the pouring rain "that fucking shithead !" trying to huddle in your already soaking wet jacket and dragging your heavy feet across the sidewalk looking for a refuge or at least somewhere you can take cover under till it clears up a bit , another shiver went through your spine causing your cold numbing hands to shake as you gripped the hardcover book that you held to your chest and you know was now damaged beyond saving , it was an emotionally grounding effort , and the only thing you took in your haste out the door .

It's been more or less 20 minutes walk so far and you were lost in your mind to notice the clouding sky heavy with promised rain looming above and that you took the wrong turn about 2 blocks back , but the cold winds mixed with the rain snapped you out of it bringing you back to now where you're trying to move forward instead of giving up and just drop down to lay on the sidewalk and let whatever happens happen . But when was luck ever on your side ? , just as you round a corner a speeding car went by causing you to gasp as it sent a wave of ice cold splashing water all over your already soaked body , honking as it pass letting you know that the driver saw you and did it on purpose , you just stood there for a minute hair stuck to your face and neck and more water dripping down mixing with the rain as it hit the ground .

You wiped your face along with you eyes as tears escaped and a loud sob slipped before you could hold it down , you just have to make it home and then you can cry as much as you wanted , but the rain made the best excuse to let few tears fall .

Moving ahead you stopped yourself from saying " it can't get worse" because you know damn well it will get worse as soon as you voice it , so instead you focused on moving your feet onward , and finally by a saving grace you found a deserted bus stop right across the street , with big roof to keep the rain away and plastic seats that you can rest your aching feet on . And that what exactly you did , leaning back with a groaned of relieve after you took your soaked shoes off , curling your poor and aching toes to get some feeling back and let blood circulate back to them .

But Your rest didn't last long as distant splashing footsteps approached in a hurried pase , looking around in panic you looked around at the empty dark streets , locked stores all voided from any passing human in this raining weather , now all the thriller novels and horror movies came back to haunt you , why did you get out in this weather!? Oh God, this is how you die! , but before you could go on contemplating life choices a figure came to a halt , hurriedly taking a seat and shedding their jacket and trying to rid their hair of the dripping rain , and upon further inspection it turns out he was a guy , close in age if not older , and a very handsome one if you say so, with messy wet hair and defined jawline that you had to keep your mouth shut as you watched how water dripped down making trails down his neck before disappearing down the collar of his shirt that now you noticed clung deliciously to his body and you had to stop yourself from drooling on the spot you scolded yourself " bitch! , get yourself together!!! ,he might be a serial killer for all that you know!! Stop thirsting over stranger!" Snapping back as you saw a ghost of a dimple on his cheek as he pressed his lips on a thin line out of frustration before he just gave up and threw his jacket on the seat beside him , covering his face with his arm as he leaned back still not aware of your presence so you just shrunk back trying not to make any sound, and maybe , maybe he won't , but both of you got caught off guard as he looked to the side finding you just sitting there looking at him with wide eyes " oh! , Hi! " He said with a small wave , you couldn't help but reply with a quiet "hi" back turning stiffly to look ahead trying to ignore the awkward situation but that didn't stop him as he kept going with an apologetic smile " sorry I didn't see there" you gave a small nod in acknowledgement after a moment before adding " it's okay , I didn't expect that I'll come across someone else " he nods at your words " yeah , me neither , I thought I was the only one stranded out here !" Before Groaning as he remembered how he ended up in this situation, you asked him in concern "are you okay?" He looked at you confused for a moment getting lost in thoughts as he locked eyes with you for the first time before he answered with dusted cheeks that he hoped would come off as the cold wind taking its toll on him "yeah! , I'm okay, sorry! Its Just my friends, they ditched me and took off with my car !" You gave him a sympathetic nod before folding you arms now feeling self conscious about your old nerdy Harry potter t-shirt that you didn't have half the mind to change ,and leaned back again trying to fight off the cold .

he asked you after a beat of silence " if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing out ?" You just looked at him not giving any answer so he added " oh , sorry , I didn't mean to intrude!" But you cut him with a pointed look " sorry but I don't even know you " he made a face at your words as if not believing , then he asked in a serious voice " you don't know me? , like at all ?" You just tilted your head with a raised eyebrow " should I ?" He quickly shook his head , giving you a beaming smile "No! , no , it's just .... , can we start over ?" He stood up approaching you , taking a seat two seats away from yours , sticking his hand out with a wide smile " hello, I'm Charles. It's nice to meet you in this peculiar weather" giving him an odd look you sighed before taking his hand to shake " hello Charles, I'm Y/N , and it's lovely to be rained on with you " earning a gleeful chuckle from him as he sat there waiting before he asked again " there now you know who I am " you shook your head in amusement not giving in yet " no , you just told me your name , That could be fake for all I know !" He looked offended as he puts a hand on his chest " I'd never lie about my name !" You just shrugged but he kept talking " you don't believe me ? Should I show you my ID ?" You shook your head giving him a scolding look " you can't just go around giving people your name and personal informations!" He looked away " but you won't believe me otherwise!" You rolled you eyes " even if it is your name, I won't just tell you about my life just because you told me your name, that's at least level five of friendship unlocked to get this kind of information " he gave a sound of disbelief slumping back as you laughed quietly at his pouting face .

With a sigh you took your book in your hands , trying to prey the pages open but failing as they were now soaked and stuck together, the ink melting in some pages and the cover is another story . Charles took notice of it and the sad look on your face so he tried to distract you somehow " Percy Jackson?" You nod absentmindedly " yeah , do you like it?" " I can't say I do , but I enjoy harry potter" you gave him an offended look " what in the name of Poseidon !!!! How ? And most importantly, why?!" he just shrugged " I've seen the movies and it was a no from me " you gave an exaggerated huff " of course you saw the movies first! " Calming down before asking him " what about Harry potter?" His eyes lights up As he nods " I love harry potter!" You gave him a side glance " the movies or the books ?" He gave it a thought " I do like the books, but the movies are my favourite so far, they hold some dear memories " content with his answer you gave him a long look that had him lean back nervously as he looked back at you " alright, You're now you're upgraded to level 1 " he looked confused before he beamed at you "really!" You looked away " don't make me regret it " he gave a silly salute before going back to talk your ears off about his night and how he ended up here , and you ended up telling him at least about your walk and about the shithead that splashed you and ruined your book and had the audacity to honk at you , he looked deep in thought before asking you " what's the colour of the car? Do you remember?" You nodd " it was black with two stripes in the middle. Red and white I think . Why ? " looking at him as he sank on the seat , covering his face in embarrassment as he whispered in agony " that was my car" you gave him a deadpanned look before exclaiming " those were your friends!? " You asked incredulously, and he looked guilty as he apologised in their stead, but you cut him after taking a deep breath " Charles, it's okay , it wasn't your fault, you weren't even in the car when it happened " he refused promising to get you a new book in compensation to what they did , and seeing that he won't take no for an answer you just shrugged getting him to finally stop apologizing , and jumping into yet another silly conversation with the stranger that you didn't notice how easily he got your mind off of the horrible night you just had . Both of you not noticing the rain clearing up , too engrossed in your little bubble to care .

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagines #Charles leclerc imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[brookiewriting]

ahhhh if you wanted to could you do a finnick fic where the reader was in the blood rain during the quarter quell and finnick helps her calm down and clean up kind of like what katniss did for wiress? I'm thinking pre-existing relationship. thank you!!!

CLICKS

finnick odair.

summary : you get separated from finnick and he finds you covered in blood.

note : my first request omg!! i'm literally so bad at writing pre-existing relationships... like. it's embarrassing! but i tried my best for a good midground. also, catching fire is the only book i've read once so let's ignore any none canon compliant details 🤔😛 peeta and katniss don't exist lololol.

word count : 1,538

you couldn't believe you were in this damn game again. after sleepless nights, panic attacks, and flashbacks from the arena, you figured, at the end of the day, you'd at least never have to go back.

you were very wrong. at first, you thought it was some cruel joke. of course, snow was demented enough to do something like this, and the quarter quells weren't known for being easy, but seriously? throwing the victor's in again was crazy. inhumane.

even though your name was drawn days ago, you could still feel the silent eyes on the back of your head as you made your way to the stage. hushed whispers and concerned expressions. you remembered feeling even worse than the first time you went in. this time, instead of the feeling of hope amongst the people in your district, you could sense in their pained eyes that they didn't think you'd come back a second time. honestly, you didn't think you would either.

maybe it would better this year. this year you had finnick. but alliances only get you so far in this game.

☾ ☾ ☾

finnick got separated from you almost immediately. you were frozen as the voice echoed from above the arena.

"let the seventy fifth hunger games begin. may the odds ever be in your favor."

it seemed like everyone was quick to move to the center where the weapons were. your eyes darted frantically around at all the victors next to you. you watched finnick's golden curls disappearing into the water. closing your eyes for a moment, you counted to ten in your head, and you did what you did in your first games. you ran.

you were, thankfully, quick enough to pick through the remains of the weapons, and were able to get your hands on pretty decent throwing knifes. once you secured them to the band around your waist, you scanned the arena. "finnick!" you called out, hoping the blonde boy could hear his name over the cries and screams of victors fighting each other.

no reply. god, please don't be dead already. please keep my finnick safe. you repeated over and over, sucking in your bottom lip and biting it to the point where dew drops of blood formed and the taste of metal filled your senses. it was so overpowering that you couldn't think. your brain was shutting down.

you prayed and prayed that finnick was smarter than to get into a fight right away. there was nothing to do but hope that he swam away and was hiding somewhere.

you cried out his name again, and again there was silence. so you had to do what you had to do to survive, and that was run away. there was a forest clearing not far from the starting circle. right. that's where i should go.

the forest was already murky and nearly dark, and you let out an exhausted sigh. the games had just begun but you were exhausted, terrified, and hungry. all while you were having flashbacks of your first games. your shaking hands were holding on tightly to the hilt of your knives, the cold metal allowing you to focus your senses on something other than y'know— your inevitable death.

one positive thing that you learned from your previous games was that you were stealthy. your feet were light on the dirt and you made sure to leave multiple tracks so no one could follow you. this year you knew you had to outsmart everyone. you had an advantage by being quiet. maybe you could hide throughout the whole game.

that worked for a while. it was quiet in the clearing, no sounds of struggling and the screams from the center had died down quite a bit. but you couldn't find cover anywhere. it seemed like you were just doing circles, repeating and seeing the same tree over and over again. by the next hour, you made sure to walk as slow as possible to save your stamina.

you heard the sound of a shrill scream, definitely from a woman. and then came the downpour.

the rain wasn't normal rain. of course it wasn't, it was snow for fuck's sake. the rain was thick. it landed in chunks rather than individual drops. it took you a moment to realize that this rain was blood.

you looked down at your shaking hands, the maroon of the blood staining your skin. that's disgusting. it smelt like the metallic scent of pig's blood you'd smell walking past the farms in your district. the blood rain made your skin, hair and clothes feel heavy and sticky. and after a bit, your eyes started to sting, vision blurry as you tried your best to outrun it.

i can't see anything. i'm going to break my damn ankle. you thought, using your hand as a barricade against the rain. it was no use. as your sight got worse, your hearing improved, and for a second, you heard the sounds of running water.

and someone clicking their tongue in that familiar pattern.

☾ ☾ ☾

finnick's hands were on your shoulders, dragging you away from the crowd of victors waiting for their interview with caeser flickerman.

"jesus, finnick. can you be gentle?"

your voice was condescending, but were smiling though, your hands tugging at the bottom of your dress. you were met with a frown. those sea green eyes of his looked grey. something was wrong.

"this'll be my only chance to speak with you before the games. i need you to listen, alright?"

it was weird seeing finnick this serious. during all of his interviews and talks before this, it seemed like he wasn't even taking this game serious. like he thought he'd already won. or that he didn't care if he died.

"i can't call out for you in the arena. you can't be seen with me. we'll be too small of an alliance and we'll get killed. do you understand?"

his hands were gently shaking you out of your dazed state and you swallowed, nodding slowly. it sounded like he didn't want to be in an alliance with you. yeah, sure, you weren't the top ranked tribute, or even the smartest, but you thought district's were supposed to stick together, right?

finnick must have read the confusion on your furrowed brows, his grip loosening from your shoulders. his smile was back, the cresent shaped dimples indenting onto his cheeks. you wanted to trace them with your hands. to have his face remember the gentle curves of your touch.

"don't give me that look." he spoke finally, breaking the painful silence that drifted between you two.

"i don't understand."

"listen for my whistle. it'll let you know that i'm close by."

he made a clicking noise similar to a birds call and you bit your tongue to stiffle your laugh.

☾ ☾ ☾

you may have been laughing then, but you weren't now, the clicking bringing temporary relief to the throbbing pain in your eyes and head. you repeated the click, your lips dry.

with your eyes barely able to open, you were able to make it to the sandy riverbank.

"y/n? god, who's blood— i thought you were— there's people—"

you could hear finnick's panicked voice in segments, and you sighed in relief. his hand took yours and together you sat in the water. the first place you both cleaned blood off of was your face.

finally being able to see him again, you burst into a bright smile and tackled hugged him. finnick hugged back, being slightly knocked over into the creek, his hand holding the small of your back. when you pulled away, his hands were still holding your sides as if you were about to float away.

"your whistle! i heard it! oh my god, finn, there was blood. but not any blood, it was raining blood! can you believe that? snow is a sick—"

finnick shut you up quickly by holding both sides of your face and pulling you into a quick kiss. it made your cheeks hot and in any other situation maybe this

"i thought you died." he repeated, and for some reason you felt guilty for leaving him. you should've fought with him. he could've died too. the concern in his eyes was enough to make your heart hurt. "hey, i thought you died too." you protested, sighing in defiance. his hands were on your cheeks now, gently cupping water to wash away the blood stains. finnick didn't respond, but the small smile he gave you while looking down made your cheeks warm.

"what are we going to do?" you ask him, and it's clear that he doesn't know himself. his thumb reaches out across your forehead. he really wished he knew. he couldn't imagine coming back to district four without you.

he's still quiet, just enjoying your presence, and the soft feverish touches between you two. "i have no idea, sweetheart." finnick adds, and there's a hint of amusement in his tone. he can't let you panic without a reason, and he just wants you to relax, at least for now. your fingers gently reach out and brush across the cuts on his temple and you frown.

"we'll be alright, though. i'll keep you safe."

#the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick x reader

[444rockstargf]

OH MY GOD I'M NOT SURE IF U STILL WANT CLYDE REQUESTS BUTBUTBUT!!

like, reader is a part of the little group(?) thinnggg nd reader n clyde kind oofffff don't like each other?? for some reason?? nd it's like enemies to lover's but not cuz it just ends in hate sex but not exactly HATE sex, hrmmnnrmrm.

i don't think this work's with clyde but it could maybe work with charlie toooo maybe?, anyways bye bye!! :3

ahhh! i've never gotten smth like this before im so excited!!

"the bad girl next door." | clyde

dangerous girl. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly@imoonkiss @lankysimp@nom-nommmm1@xxbl00d-cl0txx@k1ll3rh0rr0r@wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526

reader x clyde

word count: 1.5k

contents: enemies to lovers, public sex, protected p in v

“hey! watch it!” clyde yelled as the club’s bouncer picked him up and threw him onto the pavement outside of the establishment, another bouncer trailing behind, carrying you and throwing you right on top of him.

“fuck you!” you shouted out as the two large men walked back into the club, slamming the doors with more defiance than necessary. you heard a low groan underneath you, along with his compressed voice. “get off me, bitch.” he muttered. your eyes narrowed and you pushed his head into the rough gravel. “that’s no way to speak to me, druggie.” 

he flipped himself over, shoving you off of him and standing up as he dusted himself off. i put his hands on his hips and chewed on his lower lip, looking up at the building in front of him. you got to your feet too, shoving past him and going straight for the door.

he grabbed you by the wrist, his cold gaze making you freeze. “where the hell do you think you’re going? you just got kicked out, genius. you can’t just walk back in there like you own the place.” you rolled your eyes, snatching your wrist out of his grip. “wrong, asshole.” you opened the door, strutting right back inside the club like nothing happened, and that made clyde’s blood boil.

he hated the way you walked over everyone like you ran the town. in his eyes, you were just some entitled brat who was born with a silver spoon in your mouth. it was unusual for him to detest anyone as much as he did you, but what could you say? you were special. and besides, you didn’t like him either. he was brought up by a wealthy family and he threw it all away to pursue a life of freedom and all that other bullshit. you would’ve killed to have a life like his and he didn’t even want it. now that got under your skin.

you waltzed back into the club, sitting down at a stool with the rest of your friends, but the tension thickened as clyde walked up right behind you, sitting a few seats away from you, a raging fire burning in his eyes. for such a “chill” guy, you had no idea how you got him so riled up without even trying.

he flipped you off, ticking you off once again. you stood up, preparing to give you a piece of you mind for the umpteenth time that night until a waiter holding a tray of champagne came out of no where and knocked into you, causing more commotion than you thought was necessary. but it was so damn embarrassing, and you could’ve sworn you heard clyde laugh.

and that’s how you ended up here, in the club’s kitchen washing dishes as punishment for all the trouble you caused. and to make matter’s worse, clyde was there too. since he’d already been kicked out, the owner believed that it would be more than appropriate to have two young delinquents wash dishes during rush hour. and it was all clyde’s fault.

“you missed a spot.” he remarked snidely. you shot him a glare as you scrubbed on a wine glass. like the whore he was, he had stripped down to his tank top, revealing biceps that were more defined than you would ever expect. you looked away from him, trying to avoid any unnecessary interaction with him. you aggressively tried to wash a stain off of the glass, but it wouldn’t budge.

clyde saw you struggling and snuck up behind you, snaking his arms underneath yours and washing the glass with much more care. “you do it like this, you animal.”

you snatched it back from him, placing it on the drying rack and speaking lowly.“you should seriously just leave me alone. i swear it’s like you’re obsessed with me or something.” clyde sneered. “and you should adjust that bra.” your cheeks immediately flushed as you looked down, your tank top having slipped low enough to reveal an unholy amount of cleavage.

you swallowed hard, pulling up your top a little, making your tits bounce slightly. your face burned with a strange attraction bubbling in your gut. clyde leaned on the counter, picking at his fingernails. seeing him in this light was strange. his usually drunk-looking eyes seemed so much livelier. his hair didn’t look as greasy and he had the appearance of effortless attractiveness that most men strived for.

you were never able to deny the “crush” you’d had on him, but you could mask how you went about showing it. so all you could do was long for the day he would pick up on your painfully obvious signs.

“fuckin’ perv…” you muttered under your breath. clyde didn’t say anything to that, but he got up real close to you, making you back away until you were against the cold marble wall. his eyes narrowed, the sexual tension between you two growing to an almost unbearable point.

“i’m a lot of things you fucking brat,” he stuck his pointer finger into your face, “but i will not take such a nasty attitude from a horny bitch like you.” that had done it. your body began to tremble from his condescending stare, and you couldn’t hold yourself back for another second.

you pressed your lips into his, kissing him so hard that his heart nearly stopped. he let out a deep groan from the contact, his hands immediately finding your waist and gripping it firmly. he picked you up, letting your legs wrap around his waist as he set you on the counter, frantically undoing his belt without moving his lips from yours for even a second.

in a matter of seconds, his erect cock sprung out of his pants, slapping your inner thigh and making you shiver. he pulled away from the kiss, panting as he desperately went to remove your shirt. he’d been dying to see your knockers for a long time now, and nothing was holding him back anymore.

he unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the ground and admiring the sight before him. this whole thing would be sweet if his other hand wasn’t digging into your ass, surely drawing blood. but you didn’t care. he spread your legs apart, slipping your panties to the side before spitting on his fingers and roughly shoving them into your tight hole, making a loud moan erupt from your core.

he fingered you with one hand, using the other to whip out a condom from the depths of his pocket and tearing it open with his teeth, turning you on a lot more than that simple action should’ve.

he teased your hole a little more, your sweet, gentle noises softening his heart as he rolled on the condom. he pulled his fingers out of you, looking you deeply in the eyes. “alright, i’m gonna fuck you now, okay? if you feel like chickening out, whine or something like you always do.” he smirked a little before pumping his cock a few times, pushing it in.

you screamed out as he slowly took you inch by inch, your arms wrapping around his neck. there was nothing slow and steady about this. it was heated and rough, his nails digging into your thigh as he began pounding into you, abusing your already-sore little hole.

you put your head in the crook of his neck, biting his shoulder blade as you felt his dick rearranging your guts. you were holding back tears. you had always given him the impression that you could take any dick, no matter the size. but you were quickly doubting your own capabilities.

he rolled his hips into yours, making your irises flip to the back of your head from the ecstatic feeling. he explored your tight, gummy walls, letting out raspy groans as he picked up the pace.

the sound of skin slapping together filled the room, the noise echoing off the polished walls as the screams and cheers from the main club got louder. you couldn’t believe you were doing this, getting your hole banged by the very man you couldn’t stand to be around for more than 2 minutes.

his thumbs reached for your puffy clit, rubbing quick circles onto it and using your cum as lubricant. your screamed, tossing your head back as he brought his lips to your tits and started swirling his tongue around your hard nipples. you were about 2 seconds over the edge, but you didn’t want to seem like a total virgin. however, your stamina ran short as you sobbed out, “c-clyde, i’m so clo-” you were cut off by a whimper that surely tore through the walls of the kitchen. your head fell back, and you felt the condom inside you swell as he filled it up with his hot, sticky cum.

he panted like a starved dog, leaning against the wall for support as he slipped off the condom, tucking his softening dick back into his pants. he caught a glimpse of you pouting as he put it away, so he threw the full condom at you, it landing right on your nose.  you swatted it off, laughing as you slapped him on the chest. “fuck you, you dick.” he lightly shoved you away from him, grinning. “gladly.”

author's note: my fics have been way too long lately smh.

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #clyde rory culkin #clyde electrick children #rory culkin clyde #electrick children clyde #lana del rey