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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Note

hey kay bb!! hope you're doing well 💖

mando has been on the brain lately so i'm requesting fluffy smut with him pls 🥺😫 (the yearning is *extra* today)

niiiiiiiiik my darling my dear hope you are also well 💗

ok…this got away from me. I blinked and suddenly a plot! exposition! SMUT! (multiple scenes at that) all the things. I’m a slut for Din Djarin and it really jumped out on this one.

(smut below the cut, a full plot, the helmet comes off, a bit of inexperienced!din, reader is kind of a bad ass, descriptions of bodies, unprotected p-in-v sex - wrap ur shit even if ur in space ok)

sleepover saturday

uncharted territory

(word count 9.1k - it REALLY got away from me okay)

gif by @aceofwhump

Then you are a Mandalorian no more.

Din Djarin aches in a way he has never felt before, much more powerful than any injury he could ever sustain. His Creed, demolished. His son, gone. His life, upended. As he staggers out of the Covert, trying to think of where to go next, he cannot shake the feeling of lost that settles around his shoulders like a cloak.

Maybe coming to Glavis was a mistake; maybe he should have stayed back on Nevarro, kept taking jobs from Karga until he finally had enough credits to take the old man’s advice, get himself a camtono full of spice and disappear into the Twi’lek healing baths until he forgot the whole thing.

The truth of it? He knew he could never forget. There wasn’t enough spice in the galaxy to help him forget it all. It wasn’t possible. And the larger part was that Din didn’t want to forget.

His leg aches as he walks. The bacta Paz had sprayed him down with had helped some, but the ache runs deep, and the drills the Armourer had forced him to run with the Darksaber had only made matters worse. He should find a place to lie down, to hide for the night before he decides what he plans to do next, where he plans to go.

Where will he go?

You are a Mandalorian no more.

The echo of the words make his head split, and for a moment, he has half a mind to wrench the helmet off, to launch it off the ring, let space swallow the beskar whole. But he stops himself; it feels as though his armour is all he has left.

His armour, and the Darksaber. The right to the throne of Mandalore.

Maker, he can’t think straight. The ache only worsens, his limp more prominent, and it gets to the point where he can take no more. He falls onto the nearest crate, his injured leg stuck straight out in front of him. His body feels twice as heavy, his head even more so, and he tips it back against the wall to lighten the load. He’ll rest just a moment, he’ll just shut his eyes for one—

“Mando?”

Din pulls his blaster from his holster as his eyes shoot open. There’s the sound of shuffled steps, something metallic hitting the floor, a murmured dank farrik! He hits a button on his vambrace, turns off the thermal setting on his visor.

“Sweets?”

You look exactly the same as he remembers. It’s been ages, but he could never forget your face. He knows what’s underneath your clothes, too, and the memory speeds to the surface of his mind faster than a pod-racer.

Before he had an in with Peli on Tatooine, the Razor Crest routinely parked and tuned up in Hangar 3-5, he had you. You were well-known within the Guild, had more than a few contracts with different gangs and hunters in the galaxy. If something on a ship broke, you were the one to fix it, and you had enough heavily-armed thugs on your side to make anyone think twice about trying to mess with you.

Some called you the Mechanic, simple and descriptive. Others, those you let a little closer, knew you as Sweets, a moniker earned by your penchant for candies and treats. You’d let your favoured clients off easy if they were short a few credits, but had something sweet from the far reaches of the galaxy to offer in lieu of the missing cash.

Din knew he was one of your favoured clients, perhaps your favourite. Or, had been. You’d crowed endlessly about the Crest, desperate to get your hands on it any time he hauled it in for service, whether it actually needed it or not. Sometimes he genuinely needed something fixed, some times he’d found some candy or sweet in a far off corner of the galaxy that he’d brought back just for you.

Other times, he just wanted to see you.

You were sweet in other ways, too. He knew first-hand. And he knew he was the only client you let into your bed. He’d been drawn to you the first time you’d been introduced — a common contact between you and Din sent him your way when the Crest was in serious need of a tune-up, and you were the closest mechanic he could get to without doing more damage to the ship.

Your knowledge astounded him, to start. You were barely into a diagnostic and you knew exactly what needed to be fixed, what parts you had and didn’t, how many credits it was going to cost him. And you hadn’t even set foot on the ship yet. Your competency drove him wild, only spurred on when he brought you aboard the Crest to give the interior a once-over, eager to see if he’d kept everything original, or if you had any modifications to offer that he might be interested in. Din followed you around the ship silently, answering whatever questions you had, mostly just watching you work. It was intriguing beyond belief.

“That’s not much of a bed,” you’d commented, cocking your head to the side when you hit the button that opened the bunk. “When’s the last time you had a new mattress?”

He just shrugged.

“One thing you should know,” you said over your shoulder, descending the Crest’s ramp, heading back towards the entrance to your shop. “I don’t use droids.”

Din nearly fell over. “That’s not a problem.”

“Good,” you replied, tapping at your data pad, your brow scrunching. “It’ll take longer than your usual hangar; I do everything myself.”

“I’m happy to wait,” he said, dipping his helmet, thankful it was hiding the way he was raking his eyes over you. I don’t use droids. Had someone made you in a lab somewhere, on some backwater planet, just for him? “I know she’s in good hands.”

The grin you’d offered him was sweeter than anything he’d ever seen, and you shooed him out a moment later, muttering something about getting back to work.

When he returned three days later to retrieve his ship, he almost didn’t recognize it. You’d repainted most of the outside panels, replaced all the ones that were missing, and the engines were so shiny Din could see his helmet reflected in them. Inside the Crest was another story; you’d outfitted him with a carbonite cell system, top of the line and primed for use. That meant no more mouthy bounties, no more wasting durasteel cuffs and gags when he could just hit a button and have a quiet ride back to the Guild.

And in the bunk, a new mattress, complete with a pillow, and bolted on the wall, a mount for his helmet.

“You don’t sleep with that thing on, do you?”

“The carbonite system,” he nearly sputtered, rubbing a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t have the credits, I didn’t—”

You poked the toe of his boot with your own. “Call it a gift, Mando. Let’s just say I shouldn’t have had the thing hanging around to begin with.”

“Is that gonna cause me any problems?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the p. “Wiped all the identification numbers from the system. No one will know where it came from. Except you.”

He stared at you a long moment. “Except me.”

He was sure to pay you in full, plus the candied flowers he’d found at one of the vendors in the markets. You’d smiled again at that, and while Din committed the sight to memory, he also promised himself that he wouldn’t let it be long before he saw your smile again.

And he kept that promise. The next time he landed the Crest in your hangar, it wasn’t because he needed a tune-up or new parts. He’d struck gold at a black market on Coruscant; his bounty had lead him into the belly of a sweet shop, and after the Gungan had been dealt with, Din did some hunting of his own. He took as many boxes as he could carry, trying to take one of each flavour, a few extra of the ones he’d seen on the shelf in your shop.

“What in Maker’s name are you doing here?” you’d called as soon as he landed, stepping out of the shop and into the hangar, your hands on your hips, cocked to one side. “You ruin my handiwork that fast?”

“Not exactly,” he’d replied, walking down the ramp, his arms laden with goodies. Your eyes had gone huge. “I come bearing gifts.”

“For me?” you cried, gasping as you took the boxes from him, tongue poking between your teeth. “Mandalorian, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He’d never been so grateful for his helmet at that exact moment. He might have crumbled to dust if you’d seen how red his cheeks were. “I-I owed you,” he stuttered out, “for the carbonite.”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” you quipped, swaying from side to side on your feet, staring down at your treats. “I told you, it was a gift.” You gave him one of those smiles again, and Din felt his stomach twist at the glitter in your eyes. “Why don’t you stay a while? I’ll feed you and everything.”

You disappeared into the shop, and Din paused a moment before following.

He saw you disappear behind a dark curtain that had definitely seen better days, and Din followed your further to discover there was an apartment of sorts attached to the shop. Apartment was perhaps too kind a word; it was one large room, a kitchen to one side, a large futon spread in the middle. Trunks and boxes and crates stacked along the far wall, a few grease-stained jumpsuits littering the floor. You stumbled over your feet trying to pick them up, tossing the offending fabric into a nearby crate, before you turned back to him. “What are you hungry for?”

You served him first. Noodles with dark sauce and some kind of shredded meat you thought was bantha but weren’t quite sure. But, as you stated with a shrug, “it’s good, and it hasn’t killed me yet.” After you slid the bowl across the table to him, you turned back to the stove and stayed that way. After a moment, Din wasn’t sure what to do, but then your head turned slightly, your eyes trained directly to the left, not wandering towards him over your shoulder. “I won’t look. Swear.”

He lifted the helmet just enough to shovel the food into his mouth. You were right, the mystery meat was good, and the sauce you’d made to go with it was even better. He nearly inhaled the food, not wanting to keep you too long, and when the helmet slid back down, the mechanism hissing back into place, your head turned again, still not looking at him.

“You’re safe,” he said, sliding his empty bowl back across the table.

You turned fully, serving yourself, and he expected you to sit across from him, keeping a bit of distance between you, but instead, you rounded the table and plunked yourself down on the stool right beside him. You ate much slower than he had, and Din let his eyes graze over you. The streak of engine grease on your cheek, the scar that split your lower lip, the intricately messy way you wore your hair. A silver chain sat around your throat, strung with a tiny silver ring. It disappeared down the front of your shirt most of the time, but right then it sat awkwardly, the chain caught on your collar, the ring sitting in the hollow of your throat. He resisted the urge to reach out and fix it.

The jumpsuit you wore was nearly identical to the ones you’d hurriedly swiped off the floor. Torn on one knee, zipper unfurling beneath your chest, a symbol he didn’t recognize patched onto your thigh. You’d tied the sleeves around your waist like a belt, a dirty rag tucked in at your hip. The Mechanic, herself. Sweets.

He thought you were beautiful. He had a feeling you’d look beautiful in anything.

Or nothing.

Din was distracted by your thumb at your lips, swiping a drop of sauce from your chin and sucking your finger into your mouth. His flight-suit was tight beneath his beskar to begin with, and you weren’t helping matters. “So,” you said simply, reaching for your food again. “Tell me a story, Mando. A good one. Best bounty you ever caught.”

The conversation filtered between you two easily. You were a good listener, easy to talk to, and Din felt like he couldn’t stop talking to you, telling you about his first kill, his first bounty. His first ship, before the Crest. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you about the before, before the Guild, before he was just the Mandalorian, when he was just Din Djarin. A foundling. Part of him wondered what you think, what your reaction might be to his past, but a larger part forced his mouth shut.

At some point, he turned himself towards you on his stool, one arm braced on the table, the other resting on his thigh. After you finished your food, you leaned heavily on the table, your head pushed into your palm, legs crossed at your ankles, swinging slowly, the toe of your boot tapping his shin every once in a while.

He could see you were tired, the way you started covering your yawns and rubbing at your eyes. “I should go,” he said, starting to get to his feet. “You’re tired, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Your hand flashed out quick — not quick enough to startle him, though — and wrapped around his wrist. You’d managed to wedge your fingers right into the space where his glove met his vambrace, and he felt you against his pulse, against his bare skin. “You don’t have to leave, Mando.”

Din. He wanted to tell you. My name is Din.

Slowly, his own hand reached out, hovering in the air, shaking more than a vibroblade. He saw your eyes trace its path, watching until it lowered, dropped until the flat of his palm met the curve of your thigh. His gloved fingers wrapped around the meat of your leg, his thumb pressing towards the inside.

He heard you gasp.

He moved forward an inch, and his hand moved higher, thumb riding the seam of your jumpsuit. You hummed, fingered squeezing around his wrist, and Din moved closer, until he had one leg between yours. He let his hand wander higher, listening carefully to the changes in your breathing, the hitch in your throat. The heat between your legs was almost stifling, and something feral in the back of his brain screamed for more.

Whatever snapped in him, it seemed to break in you at exactly the same time. You both shot to your feet together, and Din’s hands moved to your waist, to where your sleeves were knotted at your waist. Yours roamed his chest plate, fingers tapping along beskar until you hooked them in his cloak. He halted his own hands, ready to help you remove the fabric, but you handled it just fine on your own, finding the hidden snaps with ease.

His blood turned to flame when he felt your fingers along his throat, seeking his pulse in another spot. “You should stay,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a murmur. “Please, Mando, I want you to stay.”

He forced himself to nod, his mind now preoccupied with ripping his gloves from his hands. He needed to feel you, no barriers in between.

He needed to see you, something in him screamed, no barriers in between.

He silenced that voice before it could spur him further. Busied himself with diving his hand beneath the waist of the jumpsuit, the broken zipper catching on his wrist. You were even hotter beneath, and he sucked down a breath when he found you wet, slick coating his fingers.

Your body leaned into him, chasing his touches, and he hooked his other hand around your thigh, lifting you up and backwards onto the table. He could feel you watching, your eyes moving from his helmet down his front, to where his hand was jammed beneath the jumpsuit. He crooked one finger, testing, pressing it into you, and grinned beneath his helmet when you moaned.

Din hooked his arm under your waist, lifting you just enough that he could maneuver the jumpsuit over your hips, down your legs. His cock jolted between his legs at the sight of you bare, leaned back on the table, your chest heaving. Even though the visor, he could see how slick you were, the evidence shining on the insides of your thighs.

He wanted to taste you.

He pushed the thought away again. Another time, when he wasn’t smearing the inside of his flight-suit with precum, when you weren’t keening into his touch as he dragged his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, when he could turn the lights off and shed his armour, bare himself to you the same way.

You moaned again when his fingers found your clit, drawing a sloppy circle that had your muscles tensing against his hand, knees closing against his hips. “F-fuck, Mando,” you ground out, tipping your head back on your shoulders. “You’re good with those hands.” Another stuttered breath as he twisted his wrist, curling two fingers just inside your entrance, thumb stretching up to swipe over your clit. “Really good.”

He was grinning beneath the helmet again, eyes glued to your face as he pressed further, fingers threading deeper into you. He could feel everything, the twitch of your thighs, the clench of your cunt. You reached out with one hand, using the other to balance yourself, and closed it around his elbow, your fingers digging into the thick fabric so hard he was shocked your nails didn’t bite right through.

“How do you like it, Sweets?” he asked, leaning forward until he was nearly hovering over you. Your hand moved from his elbow to chest, fingers hooked in his armour. “Tell me what you need.”

Your hand moved again, this time moving straight down his front, past his waist, right between his legs. His cock throbbed as you palmed him, a cat-like grin on your lips as you tilted your head level with the visor. You leaned up slightly, pressed your lips to the beskar edge that mirrored his jaw. Another squeeze, and the slow pace of his fingers faltered, his head nearly smacking into yours. “I need this.”

Din couldn’t hold back anymore. Something in the way you stared up at him, eyes tracing over the helmet, told him you didn’t want him to.

“I like it rough.”

It all happened in one fluid motion. He pulled you closer, right off the edge of the table, and you spun in his grip, leaning forward over the table, planting your hands flat. The jumpsuit slid further towards your ankles and you arched your back, your ass grinding against his hardness, and Din groaned audibly, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your legs spread as much as the jumpsuit would allow, and Din worked his own zipper down, freeing himself from the flight-suit. You made the most delicious noise as the tip of his cock smacked against your ass, the tip dripping with precum.

Your head turned as he took himself in hand, tapping your ass with his cock again. “Maker,” you breathed out, your eyes widening. “I knew you’d be big.”

Beneath the helmet, Din turned crimson.

He planted his other hand between your shoulders, tipping you forward. You went willingly, eyes rolling back as he pushed his hips against your ass. He could see how wet you were as you bent, slick still dripping down your thighs.

There was nothing stopping him from dropping to his knees right then and there, lifting the helmet just enough to drag his tongue through your cunt. The thought alone made his cock pulse.

But then your hand reached back, twisting in the fabric covering his hip, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He bent his knees slightly, notching himself at your entrance, and pushed inside.

The noise you let out was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there. He knew he wasn’t gonna last, and judging by the sounds you continued to make and the way you were bearing down on him, hands clenched into fists on the tabletop, he didn’t think you were either. He set a fast pace, the space filling with the slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your moans echoing each move. Din’s gaze dropped, trained on the sight of his cock disappearing to you. Your hand flapped at his hip, scrabbling for purchase, and he wrapped his fingers around your forearm, groaning when you did the same.

He was right; you didn’t last long, and neither did he. Your entire body clenched as you came, one hand slamming against the table, nails digging deep into his wrist. It spurred his own orgasm, that coil at the base of his spine snapping, and he pulled out, cumming hard across the curve of your ass.

Silence settled over the both of you as you caught your breath. Din couldn’t help himself, rubbing his bare fingers over the expanse of your back, tracing over your spine. You arched a bit into his touch, making a satisfied noise before you lifted yourself off the table. You turned to him, leaned up to press a hot kiss to his bare throat. It made him shiver.

“Think we could do that again?” you murmured, lifting a finger and dragging it along the edge of his helmet. “Maybe you take all the metal off.”

Din cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched, already wanting a second round. “Helmet stays on.”

You stared at him a long moment, smile on your lips. “Helmet stays on.”

He kept close to you after that night. He rarely took bounties that took him to further reaches of the galaxy, loathe to admit that he was always within a few parsecs of your hangar. He brought you a long-distance commlink so he could tell you when he was coming back, so you could contact him if you ever needed him. He didn’t worry about you, per se; you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, and he knew for a fact you knew how to shoot the blaster you kept holstered on your thigh when he wasn’t around.

But then the comm went quiet. He called, you didn’t answer. A lead weight formed in his stomach, and he pushed the Crest’s engines are fast as they’d go. Carefully, though — he wouldn’t dare ruin any of your handiwork.

When he landed in the hangar, the lights were all off. It didn’t help his worry, and it only grew worse as he sprinted off the Crest, heading straight for the shop door.

It was locked, but the lock was no match for his vibroblade and a bit of brute force. Inside, the space was empty. no trace of you left inside. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood smeared on the floor or the wall, but it didn’t ease his mind any. What if someone had come for you, spirited you away in the dead of night to some backwater planet? Dank farrik, what if someone had put out a bounty on you? His mind reeled, raced, chewed him up and spit him out.

He never meant to get so attached to you.

Din switched the settings on his visor, finally determining that all the footprints he could make out on the floor were your own. Then he saw it, sitting on the edge of one of the shelves in the kitchen. The commlink, perched precariously, just enough out of sight that no one else would think twice, but not Din.

He thumbed through the screen, saw the icon flashing with a recorded message. Your face lit up the screen instantly, and he stifled the way his stomach clenched. You looked…scared. Not hurt, not injured, but scared.

“Someone sold me out,” you said, your voice distorted and warped. “I can’t give you details. I can’t really tell you anything. Just know I’m going somewhere safe, and I’ll miss you, Mandalorian. Take care of yourself.”

Your eye were shiny as you reached out to cut the recording, and Din’s heart sank into his toes.

He put the commlink in his pocket, and returned to his ship.

He’d watched the message so many times the words were engraved into his brain. The change in your voice, the way you’d blinked harder the more you spoke. The way you paused in the middle, glanced over your shoulder with a shock of fear in your eyes.

And now here you are, standing in front of him, a pile of metal spilling out of a crate tucked beneath your arm, that same streak of fear in those big eyes. Eyes that have haunted him all these years. You nearly drop the crate as you crouch, your gaze zeroing in on the wound on his leg. “Maker, Mando, what the hell did you do?”

“Long story,” he groans out, wincing as you adjust his leg slightly, leaning to the side so you can get a better look. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reply, getting back to your feet, retrieving your crate of parts. “C’mon, let me clean you up. You look like hell.”

Din goes willingly, not sure what else to do, his mind racing from the combination of the Covert and you appearing out of nowhere. He lets you pull him slowly to his feet, tuck yourself under his arm. “Sweets,” he starts to protest, but you drag his arm around your shoulders.

“Shush,” you whisper, glancing around as you start to lead him in the opposite direction he’d been going. “Lean your weight on me.” He does as you say, nearly crumbling with relief. “There you go.”

The ache only worsens as you go, Din resisting the urge to lean his head against yours. When you finally turn him towards the door, he thinks he may topple over completely, but you’re quicker, producing a remote from your pocket. The door slides open, revealing the inside of a hangar, and you all but carry him through, discarding the crate of parts the moment you’re through, hitting the button again once you’re inside. The door slides shut, and Din lifts his head enough to look around. It looks nearly identical to your old hangar.

Then he hears a curious little beep, and looks down to see a tiny droid scurrying towards you. A BD-1 unit; he recognizes it from Peli’s, though yours is a little more rusty around the edges, the cleaner bits of metal painted grey and yellow. “Not now, Shrimp,” you grit, waving at the droid. It beeps loudly back at you, like an arguing child, and Din stifles his laugh.

“I thought you didn’t use droids,” he mumbles.

“He came with the hangar,” you reply, moving him across the hangar. Shrimp follows a few more steps before darting off, disappearing into a pile of crates. “Couldn’t bring myself to scrap him. Besides, not like he’s much help; tiny thing can’t even lift a socket wrench.”

He laughs out loud this time, and when you pull him into the shop, he laughs again, despite himself.

There’s a shelf of sweets above the workbench.

There’s no curtain between the shop and the apartment, instead another sliding door, another remote. Din lets out a low hum when he sees the apartment beyond. More than one room, furnished with actual furniture. It’s…nice. It’s really nice.

You deposit him on the couch, propping his leg up on the table in front of it. “Wait here,” you mumble, pointing a finger at him before disappearing into another room.

He doesn’t move, but hooks his fingers into the edge of his helmet and yanks it off, depositing it on the couch beside him. He sucks down a breath of unfiltered air.

You gasp as you walk back into the room, nearly dropping the silver case in your hand. “Mando, you—”

“Din,” he says instantly, reaching down, tugging his gloves off, tossing them onto the helmet. “My name is Din Djarin.”

“Din,” you repeat, slowly, like you’re tasting his name on your tongue. The corner of your mouth quirks. “Din…Djarin.”

He just nods. You approach him carefully, like you’re walking towards an injured animal instead of a man, the silver case clutched against your chest.

“Your helmet,” you start, gesturing vaguely. A memory sparks. He told you before — not in so many words — about his Creed, his upbringing. You’d asked, and he’d answered. It wasn’t information he gave willingly. The second time he had you, when you were sprawled out completely naked on that old futon, writhing and moaning beneath him, when he’d shed almost all his beskar, felt the warmth of your body pressed up against all of him. Afterward, when you’d both been sated for the time being, you’d peered up at him from your place on his chest. “Do you ever take it off?” you asked, your voice laced with sleep.

And he’d answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says now, eyes darting towards the curve of silver. “I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

“What?” you ask, your brow furrowing. He wants to reach out, let his thumb ride the space between your eyebrows, feel it smooth over as he kisses the spot. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” He trails off. Loaded question. What does it mean? Truly? “My name is Din Djarin.”

There’s still confusion etched into your features, but you don’t question him further. Your brow doesn’t loosen, and you perch on the table.

“What’s in the case?” he asks, jutting his chin towards the silver case still in your hands.

You look at him for a long moment, eyes sweeping over his face, over his features. Like you’re committing him to memory. He’s doing the same, almost scrutinizing your face, trying to remember what it looks like without the filter of his visor, what you truly look like, with no barriers in between.

He could taste you easily now.

The thought catches him off guard, the throb between his legs a welcome change to the pulsing of the wound on his thigh. The bacta the Covert had given him has worn off almost completely, and the pain is climbing.

“B-bacta shot,” you stutter out, shaking your head slightly as you flipped open the case. Your eyes moved to the wound on his leg, peering at the plates of beskar, the flight-suit, the discarded helmet on the couch. “That needs to be cleaned.”

Din just nods.

“Think you can walk to the bedroom?” you ask, shoving the silver case into the chest pocket of your jumpsuit. He recognizes it — the tear in the knee, the patch on your thigh. You fixed the zipper. “It’ll be easier.”

It’s slow-going, getting him back to his feet, shuffling carefully to the bedroom. You ask him if he wants to bring the helmet; he just shakes his head.

What does that mean?

Your bed is unmade, but Din barely notices. The scent of you is amplified in here, and he’s sucking down breaths like he’s been deprived of oxygen. You help him lower to the edge of the bed, and he starts on the armour. You sink to your knees in front of him, setting the bacta shot on the mattress beside him. He removes a pauldron with shaking fingers, and you’re right there to take it from him, your movements sure, setting the metal carefully onto the floor, waiting for the next piece.

“You disappeared,” he says, after more pieces of beskar have been removed, when you’ve moved onto his boots, setting them both carefully at your side.

Your brow had just smoothed out, and it pinches again. “I had to. I left you a message.”

Din pulls the zipper on his flight-suit, reaches into the pocket sewn into the lining, and produces the commlink. “I know.”

Your lips part as you look at the piece of metal, dwarfed by his hand. “You found it.”

“I did.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you look back up at him through your lashes. “It wasn’t safe.”

“You’re safe now,” he says, and you reach for the bacta shot. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you reply, your voice bordering on stern. “Somebody sold me out.”

“I knew that much,” Din mumbles, and you shoot him a glare.

You sigh. “Let’s just say, there were some parts in the hangar that shouldn’t have been there, someone wasn’t happy with some work I did, and then next thing I knew, there were Imps on my tail. So I disappeared.”

“You could have told me where you were going.”

You shake your head. “They were listening. Tracking every message I sent out. I couldn’t let you get roped into it too.”

“You could have gone to the Guild,” he says. He’s too distracted to notice you pull the syringe out of the case. He doesn’t see the needle until you’re pushing it into his muscle above the wound. He grits his teeth audibly, hands curling hard around the edge of the mattress. “Dank farrik.”

“Sorry.”

“I would have come for you,” he says, breath hitching in his throat as you push the plunger down. It feels like his body has been flooded with ice water, his teeth chattering for a moment before the cold turns to a woozy sort of warmth that spreads through his chest like Corellian fire whiskey. He blinks hard, slow, one eye than the other.

“Can you stand?” He nods. Or thinks he does. “The bacta will help, but I need to put a bandage on that wound, at least.” More nodding. He’s vaguely aware of you draping his arms around your neck, your arms sliding around his waist to haul him up. He plants his feet beneath him, forces his weight over his ankles. His movements are slow, languid, like he’s moving through water. You manoeuvre one arm out of his flight-suit, pushing the fabric down his shoulders, until it settles around his hips. The metallic sound of the zipper seems to echo through his brain, and he knows you’re touching his waist, moving the fabric slowly over his injured thigh. But it doesn’t hurt.

All he can feel is you.

You sit him down again, work on pulling the suit off completely. Your hands are warm, soft, gentle against his bare legs, and he nearly buries his nose in the crown of your head when you bend down. Once the flight-suit has been removed, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt, you disappear again, and Din’s not sure if it’s thirty seconds or thirty minutes.

Something cold presses against his thigh, and he flinches. “Does it hurt?” you ask instantly, and your voice is clear, then muffled, then clear again. “It shouldn’t.”

“Nuh-uh,” he slurs out. He hears you laugh, and the sound is like tinkling bells. He wants to hear it again. “Sweets.”

“Yes, Din?” Clear, muffled. His name is a song on your lips.

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“Mesh’la,” he mumbles, and then his eyes fall shut, his body slumps back, and he thinks you laugh again. He’s not quite sure; sleep is too busy yanking him under.

Din wakes to the sound of running water.

He’s disoriented, confused, not sure where he is until he pushes up on his elbows, looks around, drinks in the sight of your bedroom. The memory floods back; the Covert, then the hangar, taking the helmet off, the bacta shot that knocked him out.

But more importantly: you.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. How long was he out? He can’t be sure; there’s a window on the far side of the room, but time on Glavis is different, artificial nighttime and starlight instead of sun. His armour has been moved from the floor, neatly piled on a dresser against the wall, his boots on the floor underneath. His flight-suit is spread out on a worktable in the middle of the room, and he can see from his spot that you’ve tried to mend it, patching the spot the Darksaber had cut open with a square of fabric. It’s looks to be the same kind of material, but the colour is darker. Beneath the sheets, his leg is wrapped in cotton bandages, and there’s no sign of blood seeping to the surface.

His head turns in the direction of the noise of the water, and he pauses, waits for some kind of pain to prick through his body, but it never comes. He feels…good. Well-rested. His eyes follow the sound, and then he sees it.

The door to your bathroom is wide open, and from his spot on your bed, he can see directly into the shower. You’re inside, steam pouring over the top of the glass wall, and Din’s whole body jerks. He never forgot what you looked like naked, and it’s been a long time, but somehow it still feels like the first time. He can feel the blood rushing south, and his hands clench in the bedsheets.

He just stares, watching the water move over you, cascading down your spine, rolling in rivulets over your curves, following the lines of your body. He wants to follow them too, wants to read you like a map only he knows the key to.

Dank farrik, he’s missed you. He hadn’t realized how much.

The water shuts off, and he sees you reach for a towel, wiping your face first. He sinks back down on the bed, wondering if he should feign sleep, feeling like a kid caught doing something he’s not supposed to. But before he can— “You’re awake,” he hears you call, and looks back just as you wrap the towel around your middle. “I thought you’d be out for the night.”

Din coughs, shifting the blankets, trying to hide the tent that’s formed in his boxers. “You don’t close the door?” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You laugh. “I live alone,” you say, stepping out of the bathroom, walking towards the dresser his armour sits upon. “Force of habit.”

He clears his throat. Loudly. Pauses. “…it’s a nice view.”

Your tongue peeks between your lips as you walk over to him, still in just the towel. Your hair is still dripping, water droplets dotting your shoulders. You sink slowly onto the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he spits out, adjusting himself, making more room for you. “Really good.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I’m glad. You scared me, Man—” You catch yourself. “Din.”

A drop of water splashes down from your hair, starts a path down your upper arm, and Din reaches out, catching it on his finger. You watch his hand, lips softly parted, and he continues the path, drawing his hand up and down your skin, the backs of his knuckles against your bicep.

“I wondered where you were, all these years,” you whisper. There’s longing in your voice, he notices; the same feeling sits like a weight on his chest. “I never stopped wondering.”

“I’ll tell you sometime,” he whispers back. There’s something forming in the air between you, thick like the steam that still foams from the open bathroom. Din can almost taste it, and the thought he’d had in your living room resurfaces, making him twitch beneath the sheets. He could taste you so easily now. “It’s a long story.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I got nothing but time.”

So does he, he realizes. He’s without a ship, without his son, without anything anchoring him to one planet or another, to any sort of path. He’d been wandering already, trying to find the Covert, and now he is unmoored once more, yet somehow managed to find his way back to your hangar.

To your bed.

His hand stops chasing water droplets, and he sees your teeth sink into your lower lip. He lowers his palm until it rests on your bare thigh, and he can feel how your skin is still hot from the shower. “I never kissed you,” he rasps. “Before.”

Your head shakes slowly, and you turn towards him more fully. The towel is loose around your chest, your hand holding it in place, and he reaches for it, slowly uncurling your fingers from the fabric, until your grip falls slack, and the towel goes with it. “You should fix that,” you murmur.

“I’m out of practice.”

Your lips twitch again. “How bad?”

“Few decades,” he says softly. “Since before I swore the Creed.”

“You were a child.”

“It was a childish kiss.” He pauses, moves his hand again, brushes dripping locks of hair from your face. “I don’t want to kiss you like that.”

“Just…” Din leans in slightly, tilts his head to the side. “Do what feels natural.” You mirror his movement, and his eyes are glued to your mouth, to the way your lips stay parted even when you’re done speaking, the way your collar lifts with shuddered breaths. He sees your hands move the towel out of the corner of his eye, pulling the fabric away from your body completely until you’re bared to him, head to toe.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers. If not more.

The tip of his nose drags along the slope of yours, and his hand slides from your thigh to your hip. “I need you closer, Sweets,” he murmurs, and you nod against him, your foreheads tapping together. There’s a bit of shuffling, the blankets moved back, his tented boxers exposed but barely acknowledged as you climb into his lap. He revels in the way you look above him, your knees pressed either side of his hips. You’re hesitant to lower your weight onto his leg, and he guides you slow, giving you a quiet it’s okay as you settle onto him.

He doesn’t feel any pain; he just feels you.

Once you’re comfortable, your hands clutching at his shoulders, he adjusts his grip on you, palms skimming up your spine, mapping out your ribs and the curve of your ass. You make a quiet noise when he squeezes one cheek, the movement propelling you forward, making your hips roll into his, your core pushed against his hard cock. It makes him hiss with pleasure, and he slides one hand up to your hair, knotting his fingers in it and dragging your mouth down to his.

It’s not artful; he’s sure it doesn’t look pretty from the outside. There’s a lot of teeth and tongue, the fumble of hands as he tries to get you even closer. He’s sure you’ve been kissed better than this, and it makes his cheeks heat, makes him pull away, tucking his chin towards his chest. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his cheeks, tilting his face back up towards you. “It’s okay. Just…follow my lead?” You say it like a question, your thumbs swiping over his face, through the smatter of facial hair along his jaw. “I got you.”

Din nods, lets his lips part as you cock your head to the side, leaning in slow. You kiss his top lip and then his bottom one, giving him just enough teeth that he wants more, wants it harder. He grips your hips as you move, but your kiss stays tender, slow, your tongue a wet heat against his own. He’d dreamed of this, of kissing you, and this one — albeit the second attempt — is everything he ever imagined.

Finally, your mouth grows more insistent. He’s hard as steel between his legs, and he can feel how hot you are, your wetness spreading across his boxers with every roll of your hips. Your mouth is sweet, almost sugary, and he finds himself chuckling against your lips, still trying to get you closer. Your stomach presses to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder, your tongue licking into his mouth.

“Sweets,” he grinds out when you start pulling at his undershirt, insistent to get it over his head. He lets you, and when you lower your head again, your mouth moves to his throat instead, and it makes him moan. “Mesh’la, wait, please, I need—”

You pull back instantly, your eyes bright with worry. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I want…” His eyes drop, tracing a path down your body, his throat growing dry when they land on the apex of your thighs, the glistening wetness he knows he’s caused. He lets one hand follow the path his eyes made, rubs his thumb over your clit. Your whole body shivers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go big, pupils blown with lust, and Din uses your momentary shock to his advantage. He’s stronger than you, perks of the bounty hunting lifestyle, and he flips you easily with one arm around your waist, his other hand hitching your thigh over his hip. You squeak as your head hits the pillows, clinging to him until you’re laid out beneath him.

It’s his turn to kiss his way down your throat, and he does, laving his tongue against your pulse as he makes his way down your body. He pauses at your chest, moves to the side to close his lips around your nipple. It makes your back arch, a high-pitched noise falling from your mouth, and he grins against you, giving you just the edge of his teeth before he’s wandering across your chest to give the other the same attention.

You’re a writhing mess by the time he’s settled between your thighs. He can’t keep his eyes still, raking over every inch of you, trying to remember every part. He can see the muscles in your legs jump as he traces his fingers over them, the more sensitive parts of your skin making you keen.

With your legs spread, he can see everything, and his mouth waters at the sight of your wet cunt, walls fluttering around nothing as he teases you with his fingers, collecting your wetness on the tips before drawing them to his mouth.

He moans at the taste. Of course, you’re sweet. Deliciously so.

“Din,” you groan out, propping yourself up on your elbows. He can feel you watching, and his gaze flicks up to yours as he drops his jaw, lowers his mouth to you. Your eyes roll back for a moment, one hand moving to knot in his hair, and Din moans into you. His tongue explodes with the taste of you, sending shocks down his spine, making his hips rolls into the mattress, seeking relief.

Just do what feels natural, your words echo in his head. So he does. He licks into you, wide stripes with the flat of his tongue, smaller kitten licks to your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, hooking his hands around your thighs, pulling himself deeper into you. And you guide him some, your hand in his hair an anchor of sorts, tugging slightly to get him right where you need him, a gasped oh fuck, right there! reaching his ears.

It’s not before long that you’re smacking at his shoulder, muffled moans on your lips with your teeth sunk into your lower one. He detaches from you, gets one more good look and lick in before he’s following your grip, kissing every inch of you he can reach as he makes his way back up your body.

“I need you inside me,” you slur, your hands reaching down, pushing at his boxers. His cock springs up against his stomach and he groans, the sound growing louder when you wrap your fingers around him. “Please, Din, I want to cum on your cock.”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t cum right then and there, hearing your words turn filthy. And filthier still as he hauls himself over you, plants one elbow beside your head, looks between you, reaches down to line himself up and—

Freezes.

He can feel your eyes on his face, features pinched with anticipation. Your hands have found homes along his ribs, fingers tapping out rhythmless patterns. Hips lifting, you must see something in his expression, because you move a hand to his chin, lifting his eyes to yours again. “Din,” you say, and a shiver shoots down his spine again at the way his name sounds on your lips. “It’s okay. We can stop, if you need to.”

“No!” he nearly shouts, and feels himself flush, lowering himself slightly, careful not to drop all his weight on you. “No, that’s not what I…I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, understanding. You give a soft laugh. “I know you’re not a virgin, but if you don’t want to, it’s okay, I won’t say any—”

“It’s not that,” he cuts you off, petting his hand over your still-damp hair. “I want to. I want you. It’s just that…” He chews at his lip. “No one’s ever seen my face, while we…when I…”

Realization slides through your features. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to look,” you say quickly, skimming your knuckles along his cheek. “I can turn over, if you like, if that’s easier than—”

“No,” he says, not a shout this time, but firmer. “I want you to see, Sweets.” He drops his chin, emboldened by your softness, your understanding. He kisses you soundly. “I want to kiss you while you cum.” His words pull a silky noise from your throat.

He breaks the kiss as he takes himself in hand, pushes into your dripping cunt. You’re hot, clenching down on him instantly, arms draped around his neck as he lowers himself further, latches his lips to yours. He hitches one of your legs high on his hip, drives into you deep. He had you close on his tongue already, and he rolls his hips hard, catching something deep inside that makes your entire body seize.

“Yes, Din, please, oh gods, please, please, please,” you’re babbling against his lips, one hand pressed flat between his shoulders, the other knotted in the back of his hair. “Yes!”

Just as he said, he kisses you while you cum. He feels it pulse through your body, your limbs taut and then lax, still holding him close. Your hips chase his, cunt clenching tight as a vice, and Din’s not far behind you, pleasure lighting a fuse down his spine.

You pull your lips from his just as he starts to spill in you. Your hand moves to grip his chin, and you force his gaze to yours. He gasps and your mouth mirrors his, lips parted in a soft o, turning to a grin as he grinds into you, painting your insides as deep as he can go. It feels like an implosion, his bones rattled in his body, but then set on the softest bed of silk as he collapses into your chest. You hold him close, petting one hand through his hair, breathing deep and slow until his own evens out, matches yours, until your heartbeat syncs with his.

“Mesh’la?” he calls after a moment, cheek still pressed to your sternum.

“Yes, Din?” you reply, your voice scratchy as your nails start to drag along his scalp. His eyes are heavy.

“I missed you.”

He can hear the smile in your voice. “I missed you too.”

Din wakes alone in your bed again.

He thinks it’s the next morning — the rest of what he assume to be evening was spent in your bed, both of you naked and wrapped in each other. Again and again and again, he pulled pleasure from your body, let you pull it from his, found your bliss together. By the time you were both too tired to move, sprawled on the mattress, your head on his shoulder, you’d whispered, “You’re a good kisser, Din Djarin.” And then you were asleep, Din not too far behind.

He dresses quickly, boxers pulled back on, undershirt in his hand as he pads out of the room. He finds you standing in the kitchen, a steaming cup of caf in your hands. The droid — Shrimp, he dimly recalls — is perched on the table, beeping out a message to you. You’re nodding along, blowing the steam off the top of your caf, and your eyes flick to him as he steps into the kitchen.

“You know Peli Motto?”

Din’s brow crinkles with confusion. “You know Peli?”

You scoff. “That woman taught me everything I know.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear on my hangar.”

Din just laughs, walking around the table. He slides an arm around your waist once he’s close enough, leans into kiss the side of your head. You lean into him. “Why are we talking about Peli?”

“She sent me a message,” you say, offering him your caf. He takes a sip, only feeling more confused. “Asking if I had any spare ships laying around my hangar. A replacement for her Mandalorian friend.”

Din balks. He hasn’t told you about the Crest. “Sweets…”

You step away from him, pressing a hand to his chest as your eyes go wide with realization. “Din Djarin, what did you do to that ship?”

“I didn’t—”

“Din.”

“It was Imps,” he says, trying to reach for your hip. “It wasn’t—”

“Where is the Razor Crest?”

He sighs heavily, and reaches out to take the cup of caf from you again. “Now it’s nothing but a scorch mark on the planet Tython. It was the Imps. They took my son.” The words are out before he can stop them.

Your eyes go so wide he’s worried they might pop out of your skull. “Your son?”

“It’s a long story.”

You pluck the caf out of his hands, walk around the table, pull out a chair and sink into it. “I got nothing but time.”

#sleepover saturday #my fics #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin headcanon #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian headcanon #the mandalorian fanfiction

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wileys-russo · 4 months

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can we pls get ready x leah and/or lessi on the beach in portugal?? maybe sneaking off to have alone time while the teams all there etc. etc.

portugal sunsets II l.williamson

you watched with a shake of your head at the sight of kyra grappling around on the ground with katie, the irishwoman threatening to make your national teammate eat sand as kyra desperately struggled to get away and make a run for it.

"help me!" kyra reached out for your hand as you kicked it away making her gasp and katie grin wolfishly, shoving kyras head into the sand.

"no loyalty!" the midfielder yelled at you with a grunt, elbowing katie and trying to break away as the girl grabbed her ankle and sent her flying back down into the sand.

"do we step in and stop them?" steph appeared beside you with an amused smile as you firmly shook your head. "no way. i hope ky eats sand she tied all my shoes together last night and she's been trying to cheat this entire game." you shrugged as steph hummed in agreement.

"she's really taking this annoying little sister title in her stride isn't she?" you sighed as kyra broke free, sprinting away to tackle an unsuspecting caitlin to the floor as katie dove to dog pile on top of the both of them, kyra tossing handfuls of sand at both girls as if it was snow.

"well she's only taken the title from you hasn't she?" steph cooed pinching at your cheeks condescendingly making you roll your eyes. "i am twenty four year olds steffy i am not the baby anymore!" you huffed wrenching her hands off and shoving her playfully.

"you'll always be a tillies baby. because never will we forget the nervous little kid in a training shirt two sizes too big and her socks on inside out showing up for her first senior call up!" steph teased as you groaned at the memory, the two of you walking down the beach and away from the game which had now resumed.

"i was really nervous okay!" you defended with a pout, body slumping into stephs making her stumble a little as you hugged yourself into her side. the brunette called away by jen you waved off their invitations to join in and wandered back toward your girlfriend.

you chuckled and shook your head at the sight of her laid down on a towel in the sun, bundled up in a ridiculous amount of layers for the only slightly cool air with a pair of sunglasses covering her eyes, hands tucked behind her head.

"you know babe the whole paint of tanning is to actually expose your skin to the sun so it tans." you teased, leahs head turning as your body flopped down beside her, nudging her to move over a little.

"get your own towel." leah mumbled, finger tips pressing to your forehead and pushing you away as you tried to tuck into her. "leah!" you huffed in offence, sitting up and glaring down at her as her lips curled into a smug smile and she opened her arms.

"only jokin gorgeous." she patted your cheek a few times as your head rested on her chest. "why are you wearing so many layers? its a lovely sunny day." you laughed as your girlfriend shrugged.

"dunno i'm comfy." she murmured and you rolled your eyes at the use of her favorite word. "my love you're the first one to complain about english weather and here we are abroad in the sunshine and you're dressed for a rainy day at colney!" you laughed at her thick puffer which was shrugged on over a hoodie and track pants, all the arsenal training gear of course.

"then the loafer slides...didn't realise i was dating a dirty old man." you teased earning yourself a sharp pinch to your exposed thigh. unlike your english girlfriend you were embracing the weather in shorts and a training top, your hoodie loaned to laura who forgot hers back at the hotel.

"you're so mean to me." your girlfriend sighed, eyes still closed and covered by her sunglasses. "maybe, you kinda like it though." you pushed yourself up onto your elbows and hovered over her, the corner of the blondes mouth curling into a smile confirming your words.

"and you give as good as you get, don't pretend like you're nice and sweet and chivalrous all the time williamson." you clicked your tongue at her as her smile grew.

"stop!" leah whined as you continued to poke at her, smacking your hands away. "oo jackpot! thank you." you found and fished a chocolate bar out of the pocket of her pants, laying back down on the towel. "oi you little thief thats mine!" the blonde protested as you sat peeled it open, taking a bite with a grin and sitting up trying to wriggle away from her grabby hands.

"well darling whats yours is mine and whats mine is ours." you explained moving it out of reach as she tried to reach for it. "you better at least share!" leah grunted, grabbing at you and dragging you back to the ground.

"you're gonna get it all sandy you idiot!" leah groaned, eventually plucking it from your fingers. "such a pest." leah pinched your cheek as your head settled in her lap and she finished off the last couple bites, tucking the rubbish into her pocket and resting back on her arms.

"oh go ahead, didn't want those anyway." leah scoffed as your own arm reached up to snatch her sunglasses, placing them down over your own eyes as you blew her a kiss.

"think i deserve a proper one for all this sharing and caring." leah tutted, dipping her head so her lips just ghosted over yours.

"mm i guess you've been pretty well behaved today." you teased with a hum, stroking your chin thoughtfully. "yeah thats cause i'm a good girl." leah smirked with her infuriatingly attractive accent though right before she could close the minuscule gap which was left between the two of you there was a shout.

"leah heads!" your girlfriend looked up right at the wrong time as the aussie rules ball kyra had insisted on bringing everywhere with her this trip sailed through the air, smacking her right in the side of the head.

"leah i am so so sorry!" steph apologized profusely with wide eyes, hurrying over with beth in tow who was too busy laughing at your girlfriends misfortune as she grabbed the ball back off the sand.

"just a little tip when someone says heads leah it doesnt mean to look up it means to duck!" beth patted the girls shoulder sarcastically as the defender glared at her and you squeezed her leg sympathetically.

"yeah cheers mate!" leah grumbled with a frown, steph apologizing again as leah mumbled it was fine and you sent the brunette a smile and mouthed it was okay as she left the two of you be.

"come on then cranky lets go for a walk." you patted her thigh and hauled yourself up to your feet, holding out your hand for her. "up you get!" you wiggled your fingers impatiently as leah groaned.

"i'm concussed i can't go for a walk." her arms fell to cover her face as she lay back down. "you are not concussed! honestly you're the most dramatic woman i've ever met you could get a papercut and tell the doctor your finger needs amputating." you smiled as she moved her arms slightly and shot you a glare.

"come onnn, up you get! go leah! go leah!" you clapped and cooed at her, encouraging as if you might a toddler or a puppy as her look of distaste continued to grow. "im so tired." leah sighed, arms flopping to her sides.

"leah you are not being very romantic, acting like asking you to spend time with me is apparently a grave inconvenience." you frowned, folding your arms across your chest.

"baby no thats not-" "well hello lovebirds, not quarreling are we?" lia arrived with an amused look as you smiled knowing this would work to your advantage.

"wally she's being a bad girlfriend." you accused with a point as leah sat up and scoffed. "i am not! she's just being annoying." leah retaliated as you gasped sarcastically and clutched at your chest.

"you see the way she speaks about me? all i wanted to do was go for a lovely little sunset stroll together hand in hand down the beach and she won't get up!" you pushed your foot into leahs side making her whine.

"well then i will go for a lovely sunset walk with you instead. come on schönes mädchen!" lia offered you her hand as you interlocked your fingers and started to walk away with her. "i give it thirty seconds." the swiss mumbled to you knowingly with your backs turned to your girlfriend.

"i give it ten." you shot her a grin as sure enough within seconds leah was scrambling to her feet and sprinting after the two of you. you squealed as her arms wrapped around your waist, her hand smacking lia's away from yours as she lifted you into the air and carried you away.

"you are welcome, enjoy your romantic sunset walk my lovers!" lia called after the two of you with a grin as you waved to her over leahs shoulder before she placed you back down on your feet, her fingers interlocking with yours tightly.

"you're so easy to get to bite." you teased, the girl bringing your interlocked fingers up to her mouth and placing a few soft kisses to the back of your hand. "and you're a wind up." leah rebutted before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence and you swung your hands back and forth.

the chatter, laughs and yelling of your teammates and friends faded into the background the further the two of you walked, eventually reaching the end of the beach and the rocky cliff face loomed in front.

"view would be better from the top!" you grinned suggestively, leah sighing dramatically before agreeing, but not before of course her competitive nature kicked in and she deemed it a race.

"oi! cheat." leah laughed as you took off running, shoving her aside and racing up the small hill that lead to the top, grateful you'd chosen to wear trainers today and not slides.

"loser, loser, loser!" you chanted as you reached the top first, watching as leah struggled up after you. "oh yeah sorry dunno if you realised i done my acl!" leah huffed, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at the loss as she finally reached the top.

"that excuse has an expiry date you know baby and its coming up fast." you teased as leah grabbed your hand again, the sun had already started to set, bathing you both in the warm burnt orange of the golden hour glow.

you dropped the blondes hand and wandered closer toward the edge, leah warning you to be careful as you snapped a few photos. you missed the way your girlfriend watched like a lovesick puppy at the soft smile which graced your face, forever in love with sunrises and sunsets.

whenever you and leah were apart that was always something you knew drew you together, the two of you sending photos of the sunset to one another for every day you were apart, which was more often than either of you liked given you were born and raised on opposite sides of the world.

"c'mere and give us a cuddle sweets." leah was quick to pull your body into hers once you were within reach again, your back tucking into her front as her arms hugged you tightly and your hands rested on top of hers.

a few beats of silence passed as the two of you just watched the dying sun and the way the sky changed colour, wrapped up tightly in a shared embrace, leahs chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

"don't think i'll ever get over how pretty the sky can be." you sighed happily. "don't think i'll ever get over how pretty you can be." leah sang out with a smile, nose tucking into your neck as her lips peppered warm kisses along the skin of your shoulder.

"charmer." you smiled, more sweet words mumbled into your ear as she continued to trail kisses across every inch of your skin her lips could find.

"see baby girl? i can be very romantic." leah murmured, one hand coming to grab your chin and gently tilt your head back, rewarding you with a soft and tender kiss.

"it was my idea to come up here! all you did was walk with me and even that wasn't without complaint, few cute words doesn't change your moaning about it." you teased, pecking her lips a few times.

"yeah but here we are havin a cuddle, havin a kiss, watchin the sunset, thinking of everything i want to do with my pretty girl once we get back to the hotel." leah smirked, kissing you again though this time a little less sweet as she slipped her tongue in, licking the roof of your mouth as your breath hitched.

"laura do not leave me behind! you are being a bad friend!" you recognised the dutch accent as you broke apart at that, leah sighing as vic, laura, teyah and kyra appeared a few metres away.

"aw sorry did we interrupt your smooch sesh?" kyra cooed making kissy faces as teyah joined in and both you and leah rolled your eyes. "well romance is dead now." the blonde mumbled with a huff as you kissed away the fast forming pout.

"maybe, but whatever you were thinking about doing in that hotel room is still very on the table when we get back baby."

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #engwnt

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rxmqnova · 4 months

Note

Hi!, how are you? So i saw that you have your request open can I request

Mama!Nat x daughter (around 3-4) in where on one of Natasha's missions she lost her memories and her memory stayed around when she left the red room so she doesn't know she has a daughter (duh), when she is told she can't believe it because she never though she would be able to have a child or they take her daughter to see her for when she wakes up and she finds out that she has a daughter that way. she feels insecure about being with her thinking she may hurt her So she avoids her. But reader insist to be with her mama angst with happy ending pls.

Hope you have a wonderful Christmas an new year🎉

Btw sorry for the bad grammar/English. it's no my first language

Lost memory

Y/N: 4 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Please, auntie Wanda, I want to see mommy" Y/N begs, hugging Wanda's legs tightly and looking up at her with the best puppy eyes she can do.

Y/N's been begging every single Avenger, one by one, to take her see her mommy. Natasha's last mission didn't go as planned and she got badly hurt. She even was in coma for the entire 3 weeks, but thankfully she's much better now.

Though there is one problem… Unfortunately, Natasha doesn't remember the last years of her life… more specifically, the last memory she has is from more than ten years ago when she escaped the Red room.

Y/N's been begging and crying everyday, wanting to see her mommy. She knows Natasha's here on the compound as she saw how Steve carried her mama to Bruce after the mission.

"Y/N/N" Wanda sighs, lifting Y/N up and sitting her on her hip. "Honey, I know you do, but your mommy needs to rest" She kisses the little girl's head, receiving a whine as Y/N buries her head into Wanda's neck.

"I want mommy" Y/N cries out into Wanda's neck, making Wanda sigh once again.

"I know, bubs, I know"

———

It took a few hours of begging, but Bruce and Doctor Cho agreed that they can't go on like this for much longer. Because the only one Natasha briefly remembers is Clint, he agreed that he'd be the one who tells the redhead about Y/N.

"How are you feeling?" Clint smiles at his best friend, sitting down on the bed.

"I'm fine, I don't know why I still have to be here" Natasha sighs, crossing her arms over chest. "Why are you here?"

"Can't I just come to see how's my friend doing?" Cling teases on which Natasha raises an eyebrow. "But yeah, I'm here to tell you something" He looks at the redhead, preparing himself to tell her about Y/N.

"Why are you looking at me like that? What is it? I feel like nothing can be worse than that I forgot the past 14 years of my life" Natasha sighs, waiting for Clint to speak.

"… We haven't really told you everything, Nat. There's something we left out, but we can't keep that from you anymore" Clint starts. "… You saved a little girl on a mission 3 years ago… She's spent here for about… 2 months and you decided to adopt her. She's 4 now and she's been begging us to take her to you. I know it's-"

"Wait. Wait. I adopted a child? Me?" Natasha asks shocked, not believing anything from what Clint has just said.

"Yeah, I-"

"Mama! Mama!" Y/N bursts into the room, Wanda running after her.

"I'm sorry, I turned around for 2 seconds and she was gone" Wanda explains with a sigh.

"Mama, I missed you!" The tiny girl says, attempting to climb the bed. "Mama" A whine escapes Y/N's lips after another failed attempt of climbing the bed as it's too high for her, holding her arms up for Natasha who's just staring at her shocked.

Wanda's quick to lift Y/N up, sitting her on her hip and holding her tightly as Y/N's trying to wiggle out of her arms and reaching her tiny arms for Natasha.

"N-no, no, I can't" Natasha panics, shaking her head.

"Calm down, Nat" Clint moves closer, trying to comfort his best friend. "Take her out, Wanda" He orders, Wanda nodding immediately.

"Want mommy! Mama!" Y/N cries loudly, kicking her legs and trying to wiggle out of Wanda's arms while the witch is carrying her out of the room again.

———

A few days have passed since Natasha found out about Y/N and she still doesn't know how to feel about that. And now when she's finally allowed to leave the bed and get back to normal life, it seems even scarier.

Y/N, on the other hand, has been crying nonstop through the days. She just wants her mommy and everyone's been keeping her away again.

"Mama!" Y/N grins once she sees Natasha step into the kitchen, immediately jumping off of the chair and running to the redhead, crashing her little body into Natasha's legs.

"Oh, hi" Natasha says akwardly, carefully peeling the little girl off of herself.

It's not like she wouldn't want a child, but she just doesn't know how to take care of one. After all, she's never taken care of a child before… well, she doesn't remember it… so it's understandable that she's scared of it.

"Mama, I drew you lots of pictures. I'm gonna show you" Y/N informs, already running away for her drawings which makes Natasha let out a sigh of relief and she quickly makes herself something for breakfast.

"Hey, hm. You're Wanda, right?" Natasha asks, sitting down opposite the brunette who smiles and nods in response, so Natasha takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Clint told me you were the one who mostly took care of Y/N. I just… I just wanted to ask you if you could maybe take care of her for a bit more? At least a few more days please?" She asks, hoping to get a yes from the witch.

"Oh, of course. Y/N's such a sweetheart. If you need any help with her, I'll be happy to help you" Wanda smiles warmly on which Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, though the tiny footsteps that are approaching stress her out immediately.

"Look, mama! I have so many pictures for you!" Y/N informs, crawling on Natasha's lap which only makes Natasha panic. She has no idea how to hold the little girl, scared that if she wrapped her arms around her, her hold could be too strong and she'd hurt her. "This is you and me playing soccer, mama!" Y/N grins, pointing at the two figures on her picture before looking up at Natasha who only hums in response and gives the tiny girl an akward smile. "And this is us building a snowman!"

Of course Wanda senses Natasha's discomfort and calls her little niece to come sit back to her and to finish her breakfast which she's been eating before Natasha came in. Natasha mouths a 'thank you', shooting Wanda a smile before quickly finishing her own breakfast, disappearing into the gym without Y/N noticing.

"Where did mommy go, auntie Wanda?" Y/N asks after a while, looking around to find her mother.

"She needs to rest a lot, honey. We should leave her alone for a little bit" Wanda says with a sigh, already knowing this won't satisfy the tiny one.

Y/N pouts, jumping off of her chair, taking her drawings and running away, ignoring Wanda who's calling after her. She hasn't seen her mommy for weeks, she just wants to be with her. Why nobody understands?

The little girl enters Natasha's bedroom only to find it empty. There are ony two more places on the compound Natasha could be, so Y/N decides to check.

After not finding her mother in her office, Y/N ends up in the gym, smiling when she sees Natasha there.

"Mommy, you forgot the pictures!" Y/N informs, running to Natasha with her arms up. "Up! Mama! Up! Please!" The tiny girl pleads, jumping up and down in front of the redhead.

"Y/N, I… just put those drawings on the bench over there. I'll take them later, yeah?" Natasha says, trying her best to not hurt the little one's feelings.

Y/N nods, running away to put her drawings on the bench like Natasha wanted and then running back to her mama.

"Mommy, up please" Y/N requests, pulling out her best puppy eyes in hope to get some cuddles from the redhead.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't" Natasha nearly whispers, hoping the little girl would just go away.

"But mama please. I want some cuddles" Y/N repeats again, tears filling her little eyes.

"Y/N, I said no. Please go away" Natasha sighs, slowly losing her patience as the little child is still standing in front of her with her arms up.

"Mama, please" Y/N pleads.

"What is so hard to understand? I said no. Go away" Natasha orders sternly, her voice raised a little bit which makes Y/N run away and cry loudly.

Natasha lets out a sigh after Y/N's cries die down, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn't want to make Y/N cry.

About an hour later Natasha leaves the gym, picking up the drawings from Y/N on the way. She throws them on her bed as soon as she enters her room, deciding to look at them after a shower. She really feels bad for making the tiny one cry.

Fresh out of the shower Natasha sits on her bed, taking all of the papers Y/N gave her and looking at all of them. She can't help the smile that forms on her face while looking at those drawings.

She spots a few more pictures hanging her closet, so she stands up and goes to look. She hasn't noticed them before as Clint only showed her where her room is this morning.

Now feeling even worse Natasha walks around the compound with hope to find the little girl somewhere. And after what feels like stepping into 100 different rooms Natasha finally finds the tiny girl in what seems to be her bedroom, laying on her bed and cuddling to her teddy bear while sobbing.

"Hi there" Natasha says quietly, sitting down on the bed on which Y/N just turns around and buries her head into her pillow. "Can we talk?" "Hm-hm" Y/N shakes her head.

"… Are you mad at me?" Natasha asks, gently placing her hand on Y/N's back and giving it a rub.

"Yes, because you're being mean and don't want to give me cuddles" Y/N mumbles out with a pout, finally looking at her mother with her puffy eyes.

"Y/N, I… I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to be mean to you, but I just don't remember you" Natasha sighs, tears forming in Y/N's eyes again at the not very nice tone Natasha used. "No, please don't cry. I'm sorry"

"But I want you to give me lots of cuddles and be nice to me, because you're my mama" Y/N cries out, burying her head into her pillow again which makes Natasha think about whether should she leave or not. She's never been in a situation like this. What should she do?

"I'm sorry, please just stop crying" Deciding to stay, Natasha desperately tries to calm down the little girl somehow, but rubbing her back just doesn't seem to be enough.

Though Y/N's tears don't stop. She just wants more comfort from her mommy, so she crawls over to Natasha, sitting on her lap, wrapping her tiny arms around her and burying her face into her mother's chest.

"I… okay" Natasha carefully wraps her arms around the tiny girl which finally makes Y/N calm down and the redhead smile as Y/N's hug brings her this really nice feeling she doesn't remember feeling before.

"Mama?" Y/N questions, lifting her head to look at Natasha who hums in response, smiling a little bit. "Did you look at my pictures?" She continues, finally being in her mommy's arms making her forget everything that happened just a few minutes ago on which Natasha lets out a chuckle.

"I did, they're very pretty, sweetheart" Natasha tells the tiny one, receiving a huge smile from the little girl before she cuddles up to her, making Natasha smile.

It will surely take a while until Natasha learns how to take care of Y/N and it will surely be hard, but now the redhead knows she wants to try and be a mother to the tiny girl. And there was only one thing that made her realize… a hug from her little girl.

----------------------

I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you had wonderful Christmas and New year as well!! <33

Part 2

Series masterlist

Masterlist

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rainbowchaox · 8 months

Text

Pissa Reunion Masterpost: (Literally there’s so much content we got this is gonna be hella long pls help me)

FIRST OFF YA DONTCHA SEE WHY THE PISSA NATION IS LOCO OVER THIS DUO? WE HAVE BEEN STARVING. PHILZA ALWAYS BEEN LOYAL TO ONE WET CAT! And that is Missa. And secondly I got most of the earlier half of stream information from the lovely @pepper-mintzyy. Give your liveblogger some love and care.

First off the scene where Missa comes online and Phil is all “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!” And Cellbit immediately saying “Oh this your husband?” And Phil immediately saying yes without the platonic. THEN THEY PROCEED TO HAVE A FULL BLOWN BOAT DATE with legit felps being such a third wheel he legit says “Continue on forget I’m here”. Also the fact Cellbit pointed out “OH that’s why you have a skull on your backpack it’s because of your husband” and Phil immediately agreeing and Missa whimpering.

They literally like lowkey forgot they were on a mission and immediately was smitten with each other they high-key forgot the mission and people around them. The fact our wet cat almost dead rushed in to save Mr hardcore himself. The amount of times Phil has to save his husband. The fact Missa bought gifts for Philza IRL.

The fact when catching up Phil was all like “Oh we have another egg” not even thinking twice about accepting his husband as Tallulah second adopted father. The fact Missa was like “You are such a good father” in the down bad voice he is always in.

Literal highkey their cubitos flirting saying smooth shit like “Like the good old days" "nothings changed” and "the one thing that made you stand out". Like full on giggling and laughing and just chilling in each other company. The amount of time they were distracted by the actual major lore by each other just being there after so long is insane. Honestly believe not for others present they would not have reached the objective.

Phil being so sweetly protective of Missa and always making sure he is right next to him. Also the amount of soft showing off he did towards Missa is insane. The fact Phil numero uno priority is Missa and chayanne always. That has never changed despite Missas absence. The fact Missa never left his simpage for Philza and immediately seeing Phil be awesome and is “I c-can see your PECS”. Like bruh he is so down bad.

The fact Philza immediately seeing his husband getting wrecked by mobs decided then and there to give him SO MUCH GEAR LATER. Philza lanuage of love Definitely is Gift Gifting and Acts of service. The fact during Philza introduction to the new players Missa kept saying stuff like “That’s my love! that’s my love!”.

Missa soon had to leave to be a part of a Minecraft event of sorts. But right after he got back online because he wanted to se his husband and son. (Sadly chayanne already went to bed). The amount of miscommunication the death duo went through (With mainly bad being a third wheel and trying to cause problems in their relationship). Landduo was legit preventing poor Missa to go and see his man.

Missa literally only escaped because dapper told him just ask and he will kill LOLOLOL. He went home and forever and him had a whole conversation and apology. That they are friends now. Missa saying stuff Philza is not someone to be won etc. and Philza literally ditched tubbo and Cellbit was like “Your husband needs help? Understandable” and yet again no corrections from Phil.

THEN THE MOST SOFTEST ROMANTIC LATE STREAM STUFF I HAVE EVER SEE HAPPENS. They met again and literally it’s like nothing has changed. Phil immediately showing off the baby skeletons because he knows Missa will enjoy the skeletons. Phil FINALLY giving Missa the slime armor he made for him ages ago.

I won’t lie watching it live gives off major date vibes (obviously about their cubitos in rp). Phil and Missa legit did that trope of someone good at archery teaching their love interest at the exp farm. They legit shared exp as well. The fact they keep giggling so much.

Philza seeing how bad the gear Missa has literally have him 20 upgrades including giving him a full bar of exp on his backpack. Again gift giving and acts of service is clearly Philza love lanuage. LITERALLY MISSA STARED AT THE SKULL AMD NODDED QUICKLY TO HIS CHAT. The amount of avocado toast Phil keeps throwing at Missa and putting in his backpack. Gotta know his husband is eating well I guess. Philza casually saying that the “Wall is ours” to Missa.

The fact Missa immediately wanted to have a hat like Philza on his backpack then a player head of his to match his beloved husband. Earlier he tricked the translator and said “I speak weird so the translator won’t pick it up- I love you”. Casually like that sentence didn’t break all the pissa enjoyers brain for 24 hours.

Dapper casually saying “Glad to see the love birds are on the mend” about them. Literally one of us. Iconic king. THE FACT Philza while talking about Tallulah said she was “Our Daughter” to Missa. Bad trying to cause drama meeting the brick wall of Missa adoration. Aka him screaming “Philza the best!!!!”. The fact they both tried to go offline the same but Missa felt bad and had to said bye to everyone. The fact Missa went offline right next to the house.

WE WERE FEED. PISSA NATION STAYS WINNING! And we are gonna continue to get food. As Missa promised to try to stream four times a week. So maybe maybe….second gay Qsmp wedding-

#qsmp #death duo #shipping #major thanks to pepper #Qsmp Missa #Qsmp Philza #pissa newspaper

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tremendum · 1 year

Text

fever

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.5k summary: but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with. warnings: SMUT. dubcon (sex pollen), age gap (not specified), use of the word ‘girl’, friends(ish) to lovers, canon-typical mentions of violence, needles/getting pricked by a plant, descriptions of canon-typical injuries, unprotected PiV sex, kinda rough, creampie, light cumplay, oral (f and m recieving), a fair amount of begging, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, voyeur Joel if you squint just for a sec, facefucking, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, some spanking, choking, reader gets slapped on the cheek like once, dom!joel miller, spit kink, fingering, dirty talk/slight degradation if you squint, light praise, this is just basically porn with no plot, they’ve got feelings for each other but they’re in denial, ellie is in this in the beginning but doesn’t hear them thank GOD, notes: this is my first work for Joel and though I never finished the first game, the release of the TV series inspired me bc i am a SLU T for pedro lmao. this is terribly unedited because I just forgot i took edibles after i smoked and cranked this out in an hour and a half so sorry if it’s choppy or a bit ooc for joel. ALSO IF IM MISSING WARNINGS PLS MESSAGE ME

★

"whose brilliant idea was this?"

you say it from behind Joel, the echo of your boots splashing through the tunnel as you look around you, your eyes sneaking to observe the width of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt over the muscles.

Joel can't stop the twist of his lips as he grumbles back at you, "yours." he mutters, rolling his eyes.

his flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you two, scaling over the walls that grow slimy with repeated dew and rainwater, algae sprawling over the pipes and reaching its fingers down towards your shoes. he doesn't like being down here, it's too quiet, damp, dark. perfect for cordyceps to grow.

you let out a soft, amused hum at his words that coaxes a bubble of irritation through Joel - you'd always been stubborn, from the day he'd first laid eyes on you; a young thing at the time, baring teeth you thought were sharp but really just looked like a little doe snapping its jaw at him.

it's been long enough with you around now that Joel knows you better than he's willing to admit, and maybe also knows himself than he would ever say out loud - because you're still that stubborn fireball of a woman and he's still the tired old man who you find amusing to tease. and he likes it, deep deep down.

"yeah, maybe just letting it go was the better option." you muse from behind him, voice still somehow dripping like honey though the sloshing of the sewer provided nothing but unpleasantries for the group of you. he turns to spare a glare at you; you were already smirking at him. setting him up, then lying in wait.

a damn minx.

he sighs, looking away: sure, he wants you, of course he does - you were spry, beautiful, intelligent, and resourceful. but you were stubborn, and butted heads with him more than rams did in mating season. still, there'd been too many lingering glances, suggestive phrases, and gentle caresses for it to be a coincidence. he could tell that when you watched him split wood or help teach you to shoot a gun that you were probably soaked through your panties, and that made him hard as a rock when he allowed himself to think about it once in a blue moon.

but that doesn't matter, because in a world that wasn't like this one - without the danger, pain, the necessities to survive - a girl like you would never bat a fucking eye at a man like him.

and he's got more important things to think about than how tight you'd feel around his cock, how well you'd take his orders with his hand around your throat.

but your words not only fall to his ears - from where Ellie hangs upside down from the storm drain, she snorts, "you spent that whole time back there arguing with him just to decide he was right?" she boasts. at this, you grab her arm, pretending to pull her down from above your head and into the storm drain with you and Joel. a splashing noise and a squeal echoes through the tunnel as your boots slosh; Joel turns back with irritation, about to snap at the two to keep quiet.

but you're grinning, eyes reaching his from where you stand, covered in storm drain water. Ellie's flipped upside-down, hanging from the ceiling with a grin of amusement, her arm slack in your grip.

your shirt is wet, slick against your plush skin around your stomach and breasts, your hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead and neck. slowly, you bend down to pick the axe out of the murky water, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you shake the water from its hilt. he has to tear his eyes away from the flash of the lacy underwear that peeks from the waistline of your jeans.

Joel's breathing is almost stutters - you’re a goddamn sight right now, and if the tightening in Joel's jeans meant anything, it's that he needed to look away.

"it doesn't matter. you got your axe, now we need to get out of here." he mutters, tired of letting you convince him to do asinine decisions like try and crawl into a storm drain to fetch the axe you'd accidentally dropped. your lips pull into a tight line and he ignores the twist of fire in his stomach at your gaze, the smirk as you try to conceal your laughter. it just irritates him even more.

he watches with sharp eyes as Ellie starts to pull you up and out of the drain; he's trained with a flashlight and his rifle pointed towards the depths beyond you, into the unknown area of the drain. your head is almost out of his sight when it happens: you twitch suddenly and let out a yelp, "fuck!" you hiss. Joel's rushing towards you, calling your name.

you groan, pulling yourself up with the aid of Ellie as you mutter, "'m fine Joel, something stung me."

stung you? he looks around, flashlight searching the area for any animal or insect or other threat - nothing. but when you're clear of the drain, obscured by the dilapidated road above his head, Joel hears Ellie let out an interested but disgusted noise. his gun goes first, then the flashlight. he pulls himself up and as he nearly breaches the light of the Earth, a sharp sting attaches to his thigh, coaxing a grunt of shock from his lips as he pulls himself fully out.

you're laying, soaked on the hot pavement, Ellie staring at you with wide eyes as you inspect your calf. there's a barb on it with spikes that look almost like a cactus of sorts, bright purple and speckled with yellow. Joel doesn't have to look down to see his own thigh impaled with the spokes of the same plant. he tilts his head back, hand scrubbing his face with a deep sigh. damn it.

"what is that?" Ellie asks, eyes wide as Joel quickly pulls out the plant from his flesh with the flannel he'd tied around his pack. "don't!" he chastises as your bare hands move towards the spoked on your calf, and your eyes soon shoot up to him. "did y'touch a plant down there? or anything?" he asks, trying to ensure this wasn't anything toxic or lethal, or god forbid, a mutation of the cordyceps.

but if it had been, there'd have been signs of it. pulsing, infecteds even - but this was a plant Joel has never seen before.

"obviously" you grunt, shooting him a glare, "I wouldn't fucking touch something growing if I didn't know it was safe." you snark. he knows you hate it when he treats you like a child - you've said as much to him before, and loudly - but he can't help the protectiveness he feels for you. your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, "but it shot out barbs towards me. I wasn't even close to it, you saw me." you defend.

Joel's throat clenches, his chest swimming with a warm feeling as the tingling sensation on his thigh lingers far after he'd pulled the barb from his jeans. he needed to get that thing out of you, too. you watch him as he pulls it out of your leg swiftly, Ellie sitting back on her haunches as she watches.

"we should clean these out." Joel decides, standing up and grabbing his gun and discarded flashlight, sending a glare down to the axe that sits glinting in the sun. just what he needs, another thorn in his side. literally.

the walk back to the house was much less exciting for you as it had been before the little romp with Joel in the sewer. the sun is hot beating down on your backs, and your dampness just exacerbates the mustiness of the storm drain's water soaking into your skin.

your calf is starting to vibrate, almost - although your heart twists with worry, you eye Joel's back and he seems fairly normal. so, you keep going, ignoring the heat that starts to consume you. your head aches by the time you round your last corner to get back.

Ellie's in her own world, kicking a rock as the house nears your sights: you'd landed here early this morning, some people who knew Joel before had lived here: they were gone now.

but it had beds, water that could be heated, and a collection of weapons and supplies stocked higher than your head.

so as you settle your things into the living room, you smile, digging into your pack to fish out the scraps of soap you'd saved, enough for several washes each of you were liberal with it. "so, who gets it first?" you say with a grin, unable to contain the excitement in your voice at the prospect of getting clean. Ellie jumps up, grinning with glee.

"dibs on going last!" she whistles, pulling a dry stare from both Joel and you. she shrugs, "what, don't want to be yelled at for takin' my time." she grumbles, flopping down on the couch, sofa releasing a plume of dust.

you lift a brow, "there's a second tub down here, isn't there?" you ask. Joel nods, eyes flickering to Ellie, "then you can take the tub down here. but only use a bit of hot water." he chides.

she rolls her eyes as he points a stern finger her way, swiping a piece of the soap you'd held out to her as she hauls her bag behind her, "relax, old man." she mutters, shaking her head as she disappears, "I'll let it run cold before I get out."

your eyes fall on to Joel, who sighs, nodding to the upstairs bathroom. "you go." he says dismissively. you chew on your lip, trying to figure a way out of taking the first bath: you needed to inspect this sting first. "no, i can wait. 's fine." you shrug, the feverish heat on your body not helping yourself to focus.

his hands run to the back of his neck, massaging a spot; your eyes are glued to the muscles that ripple from the movement, the long fingers thick and rough from a lifetime of hard work. you shudder, arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs easily. you swallow, embarrassed - why were you having such an odd reaction to this plant? it was making you feel fuzzy, feverish; the only thing you can focus on is Joel.

he shakes his head, "nonsense. ladies first." he insists, not meeting your eyes. you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, his abnormal attempt at chivalry - you laugh a bit. he glares at you, but there's no heat.

"since when have you been one for chivalry, Joel?" you ask, shaking your head with a smirk. it's sweet, because despite the horror of reality, there were still times when that charming Southern Man that Joel probably once was peeks through the cold, hard exterior.

rare but not unheard of were the times he'd hold a door open, or say ma'am - but it seems that all that remains of his past is that damn smooth accent and the broken watch he keeps on his wrist at all times.

he rolls his eyes but says nothing. his face looks red, and you almost bring up the pulsing at the site of that plant's needle; instead, you bite your tongue. you need a moment to analyze it, alone - and to get your thoughts straight, to - to not think about him.

"you can take first, Joel. I prefer my baths lukewarm, anyways." you joke, a fleeting touch on his arm.

your hand burns when you pull away and his eyes catch yours as if he felt it too. he must decide to not protest anymore as he nearly stumbles his way upstairs, disappearing into the master bathroom, his hands shaky as they take your soap from your grasp on the way.

Joel knew something was wrong immediately. the more he'd stood there, debating with you about who gets to fucking clean themselves first, the more he saw you, in a tub, fingers caressing yourself; the more real it felt, to see you touch your hardened buds, play with your tits, to hear you moan his name gently.

but his body was hot. he felt a fever like nothing he'd ever felt before, his mind going fuzzy as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing his whole body from head to toe vigorously, as though whatever was happening would fade away if he'd just get clean.

the bath couldn't have been longer than seven minutes.

by the end of it, he was grunting into his shoulder to muffle the noise, his fist squeeing his cock tight as he fucks himself into it, the hot spurs of wanton need curling around his body, choking him. that god damned soap. it smelled like you.

he'd thrown it across the room, its pieces splintered across the ground as Joel bites back a groan of your name, the images of you, soft hands pumping him, slick mouth opening to take him inside- he cums over his chest in hot spurts, the guilt red and hot across his cheeks as the feeling snaps from his chest.

but the fever is still there when he blinks away the pleasured cloud of his orgasm.

and it's still there, burning hot like a snake of revenge in his body when he slams the door open, body still damp and quick to react to the fresh air of the upstairs bedroom.

he doesn't go back downstairs, not like this. not when the girl is down there, probably still in her own bath; he's still not sure what he's come down with, or if it could spread.

now, it’s your turn in the bathroom in the master bedroom - he'd beelined it for the office upstairs before calling for you and telling you it was your turn; he knew that something in him would snap if he were to see you while he was in this state.

but he should've gone back downstairs, because the moment he hears it, it's too late for him.

you're moaning.

it's almost clear as day; muffled through doors as you'd shut yourself from the rest of the house in the master bedroom, and Joel can't fucking unhear it.

he became painfully hard again mere minutes after his first orgasm and has been restraining himself for what can only have been the ten minutes you'd been bathing, but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine.

his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.

"fuck." he groans, surprised as it comes out much more breathy than intended, his whole body shuddering as his brain gets even more swarmed with thoughts - you, spread for him, or on your knees, or laying on the table, his cock shoved down your throat-

he hits the wall, hard. his fist stings but it's nothing in comparison to the burning need he feels swirling in his gut and his legs carry him until he's knocking on the door to the master bedroom frantically.

he calls your name, and a weak gasp is the only response. he tries again, and then your muffled voice calls, "fuck, Joel, that plant-" you cut yourself off with what Joel can only imagine is a moan of pain and pleasure. his cock twitches and he thinks he may pass out. staggering over to the bannister, Joel calls out for Ellie. she stomps over to peak her head up towards him expectantly.

he's shaking, sweat already sheening over his whole body. he's sure he looks like hell as he grips the landing under white knuckles, "Ellie, we're sick." he groans, "stay downstairs."

she calls back up, joking that she’s going to leave the house; but she doesn't sound sincere. he barely registers her laughter before she shuts the door, closing herself off to explore the downstairs house without Joel or you to protect her. he's momentarily glad she's not suspicious, instead is relieved to have her own time to herself.

but his cock is so hard he thinks he may pass out again, and he can hear you gasping out his name from behind the door to the bedroom and bathroom.

the door to the bedroom shuts and echoes through the empty upstairs as he tears through, chest heaving. you're still in the bathroom, gasping as your moans echo through the chamber.

he calls your name as he slumps against the door frame to the bathroom, the desire coursing through his body as he shakes with the feverous affects from the plant's venom.

he can't think straight, "I can't come in." he says, shaking his head as his forehead rests against the cool wood. you wail from inside, "Joel, please, I need- I need you, please I need help." you whimper. he can practically see you, the pleading look on your face pathetic as your brows tangle together, eyes shut in frustration. he knows you're touching yourself, and it makes his cock twitch.

"I can't." he says sternly, knowing that if he is to come through that door, there may be no stopping himself. he can't let that happen, not like this. "I'll- I'll be good, just- I can't, nothing's working." you whimper.

"not like this, darlin'." he's grunting through his teeth, but he feels so much desire that it's painful, like he'll die. anger courses through his chest as you let out a drawn out moan, low and full of need even through the wall that separates you.

"fuck you." you groan, "I hate you, Joel, never let me fuckin' have anything," your voice is strangled, a shuddering moan leaving your lips that sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire being. his hand finds his aching cock, slowly trying to relieve the painful desire that shoots through him with need.

he glares through the wall, "yeah, well, fuck you too." he spits back, anger coursing through him at your bratty exclaim of irritation for him - the one who kept you safe, who let you do what you wanted - who followed you into goddamn sewer drains to find the shit that you’d lost.

"walking around, flaunting that fuckin' ass at me." his words fall from his lips before he can stop himself, the desire and haze pulling it out of him as he twists his wrist around himself. "do you know what you do to me?" he nearly growls, "every time you open that mouth it's some shit. always gotta have somethin' to say to me, huh? make me wanna shut you up."

your moan is nearly a sob this time; it's raw, full of desire, and Joel could just about cum from that noise alone. his neck heats up with the knowledge that his words pushed you even further; he always knew you'd be a dirty little thing.

but he nearly falls over as the door to the bathroom rips open, catching himself with one arm on the doorframe, his cock still in his fist. his eyes find you on the ground, fully naked, on your goddamn hands and knees for him.

his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you gasp, "Joel, we need to-" you swallow as though you were salivating at the sight of him above you, cock angry and flushed, "you have to fuck me, now."

he stares down at you, his whole entire body tremoring at the sight of you; your bare chest, nipples peaked at you suck in breaths, face flushed with desire and sweat, your own legs shaking terribly. your hands are glistening with your own juices. he lets out a moan.

"please," you try to get his attention again, squirming as though you're in just as much pain as he is, "please, just use me, I don't care, I want to taste you."

he shakes his head, "we-we aren't thinking straight... can't do this." he gasps, even his own words starting to sound absurd to himself. you shake your head actual tears welling up in your eyes, "I think about this all the time, Joel-" you moan, your hand slipping between your legs, the wet sounds sending streaks of desire through his body. “it’s not just the fucking plant, Joel, I need you.” you hum. his wrist hasn't stopped moving, he realizes, chasing that sweet fucking high as you stare at his cock with a wide, hungry glance, begging him to fuck you. he wonders if he’s just dreaming again.

"you know that I want this." you gasp out, tears nearly slipping from your lashline, "don't you?"

does he? how could you dare to ask that?

he groans, nodding, "shit, baby, shut the fuck up."

"you're a fucking asshole, Joel." you whine, "it hurts." you mutter, biting your lip with a ghost of a smile. that makes him snap. it hurts, and you're fucking enjoying it?

he grabs you roughly. the minute his skin touches yours it burns deliciously; he can't believe he had the control to not touch you this whole time. his moan is tandem with yours as his fingers thread through your hair, intending on lifting you to take you to the bed; your hands grip his thighs, though, and soon your hot, wet mouth finds the angry head of his cock.

you take him about halfway before you gag slightly and he slams his hand hard on the wall just above you; your eyes are fluttered shut, a tear squeezing out as your throat opens for him. he groans at the pleasure that courses through him, reaches his fingers, the nape of his neck. you're pulling on him desperately, and it makes him smirk down at you.

"what, you wan' me to fuck that pretty little mouth?" he mutters, heart thundering in his chest as his fingers shake with desire. you pull off him, gasping slightly for breath, your finger still touching yourself as you nod, a string of spit still connecting him to your lips, "yes." you say with a nod, falling back against the wall as he crowds over you.

he's not patient, not right now. he knows he could fuck your mouth until he was shooting his seed down your throat and you'd sit through it all with that pretty hair and grin and hell, you’d probably even thank him afterwards; but he doesn't have the time for that. he needs to be deep inside you, needs to be drowning in your cunt, needs to fuck you down into the mattress so hard you scream.

and you're desperate, clearly: you're two fingers deep, fucking yourself on your fingers as another tear trails down your cheek, breathless as you shift in near pain from need. he resists the urge to coo down at you, his thumb still swiping the tear from your cheek before he grabs you again, this time pulling you up and tugging you onto the bed.

you let out a moan of his name, your face flush with arousal as you spread your thighs open for him, watching with a pained expression as he pulls off his shirt and jeans, discarding his boxers as he goes. your eyes rake over him and you whimper, still not touching him until he gives you permission.

it makes him smirk, "for such a brat it's a wonder you're so obedient like this." he mutters, pulling your legs further open as he quickly stands with his legs against the edge of the bed, running his cock against your soaked, velvety cunt.

you whimper, jolting in pleasure as his head catches your sensitive, neglected nub and he smears his precum there, enthralled in the shapes your nails carve into his biceps as you gasp.

he can't pull his eyes away from your glistening center - how many times had you cum before he'd heard you? he swallows, the flames licking his belly as he pushes his head against your tight hole.

he grunts, you were so goddamn tight; your eyes widen as you try to move your hips, try to slide yourself onto his cock, but he stops you with a rough hand around your shoulder, pinning you down. "stop." he orders, leaning so he can spit down, the slick trailing down to settle right onto where his cock nestles against your entrance. you let out a strangled gasp at his actions, throat dry from your noises.

he doesn't give you time to beg, though, as he's slowly easing himself into you; you let out a yelp at the feeling, loud enough that Joel's hand clamps over your lips roughly, his breath hitting your face, "shut your damn mouth, girl."

you feel like you're splitting open as he inches in and it's barely just his head but you have never felt such excruciating bliss as now, your breath falling from your nostrils harshly as he eases himself into you.

you wonder how much he is restraining against just fucking hard into you - but you're tight after the orgasms you'd given yourself in the bath trying to satiate the feelings you'd figured out were from that fucking plant venom.

you don't even know if he'll fit all the way into you as he inches slowly in, taking a few grunting breaths before fully sheathing himself inside your hot pussy. you clamp around him, feeling full as he bites his lip, chest heaving, slick with sweat. his hand, still clamped over your mouth, tightens against you as he slowly starts to thrust; he reaches a part so deep in you that you nearly scream.

he's hitting your spot nearly immediately as he starts to quicken his pace, hips hitting against yours deeply. you moan his name, "Joel, fuck, 's so fucking deep." you gasp it, unable to think of anything but chasing the high that's been building since the second the plant's venom entered your system.

he doesn't seem to like when you start to move your hips, chasing his when he pulls away; his hand comes to your cheek in a quick smack, grabbing your attention immediately. you can't prevent the moan at the sensation, nor the way you clench tight around his cock.

the moan he lets out is half-way between your name and fuck, as he slides into you deeper, hand wrapped around your cheeks, training your eyes on his. there's a glint of something animal in his eyes: you're sure he sees the same thing in you, the venom of that plant coursing through the two of you, nearly palpable in the air of skin slapping skin.

your cunt flutters at the eye contact, the desire bringing you closer to the edge; his hands shoot to your shins, pulling them up to his chest and then he leans forward with a deep thrust, coaxing tears of pleasure from your eyes. "that's it, take it." he grunts into your hear, hips punctuating each thrust as his tip nudges that spongy spot inside you that curls your toes.

then one hand catches yours as you fist the sheets; he pulls your arm roughly down towards where he enters you as he bites the lobe of your ear. "you're going to cum." he tells you breathlessly, directing your hand towards your clit, pressing the pads of your fingers against it. you yelp in pleasure, more tears squeezing from ecstasy as you nod against his forehead, "yes, fuck, I'm gonna-gonna cum."

"that's right." he's deeper, "cum for me." he nearly whispers it, almost desperate. it's just what you need to push you over the edge: his hips angling in a way that has hot, searing pleasure coursing through you. you nearly go blind when you cum with a gasp of his name. his hips don't even stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, the relief washing over you in waves of pleasure. you can't open your eyes, your chest heaving, arms locked on his biceps, hips quivering with the intensity of the feeling.

he keeps the roll of his hips as he slides easily through your ruined pussy, his brows pinched in pleasure.

"y'feel so good," you nearly go limp, your fourth orgasm drawn out by the touch of the man you couldn't ever stop thinking about. he's so deep inside you, you're surprised you can't feel him in your throat as he thrusts. "pretty girl," he mutters, pinching one of your nipples and sending shockwaves through you; the relief you'd felt from your orgasm, just like the previous ones, is soon washed away by the newly replaced desire, back again and somehow even more hungry.

you nearly cry at the thought, but something in you still yearns for it and you allow your ankles to cross around his hips. "never wanna leave this cunt." he mutters against your collarbone. you flutter again at his words, arousal slicking you, him, the sheets below you; the squelch of your juices fill the room as he chases his own high.

a particularly loud cry of pleasure lands you with his hand yet again over your mouth, but this time, you waste no time in pulling his fingers to your lips, sucking two of them in eagerly as your hand tries to wrap around his thick wrist.

his eyes meet yours and his jaw clenches as his hips stutter, nearing his own high. his fingers work quick; thrusting into your mouth, slick with your spit, gagging you as he bottoms out particularly roughly. your nails scrape down his back and you'd be more shocked if there weren't marks later.

a few more thrusts and you can tell he's close, so you pull his fingers out of your mouth to gasp, "please, cum in me, Joel," you whimper into his neck, biting down hard as he groans your name. his hand suddenly clasps around your throat, pushing you down against the mattress as he fucks into you deep, his eyes screwed shut, "don' say shit like that to me, darlin'."

but his thrusts are getting sloppier as you squeeze around him, luring him in, the intoxicating scent of soap and him and his musk surrounding your head. "please, I'll do anything." you whine, hand crawling up his neck to cradle his jaw. his dark eyes meet yours and he moans at how earnest you look, his hand tightening his grip around your throat and squeezing slightly, your airway constricted for a slight moment, causing you to gasp for air when he leans back.

your desire has you cloudily begging, pulling at his hair, his arms, his back, keeping him in, and finally he growls, "shut up." he snaps, "'m gonna cum in you, and you better be fuckin' good." he barely looks at you as he lightly slaps one of your tits, grabbing the other and pinching your hardened nipple as he watches your whole body bounce from the force of his thrusts. "god, you feel so good." he mutters to himself. you preen at the praise, your own high creeping near.

your lips are clamped shut, his hand holding your head down from your throat as you nearly scream, his thrusts slowing and sloppy. he lets out a delicious moan as he hits his high. "that's right, take me." he mutters, his chest shaking as he cums; he's moaning loud as he thrusts one last time, his seed coating your walls.

"fuck." he eases, his thumb falling to soothe over your hairline gently as he releases into you. "so good for me, aren't you?"

you swallow, the burning fire of desire still smoldering in your core, your tear trails long since dried, your body exhausted but full of energy. you nod, unable to trust your words.

he pumps into you slowly once more before pulling all the way out, the noise of your slick and his cum slippery as you feel empty without him filling you.

but he's already distracted, his eyes hazy as he watches a bit of his cum spill from your weeping hole, his thumb dropping to slide it back up and into you, pressing against your entrance, your breath catching.

"is it- is it gone for you?" he asks, his voice strained. you don't need to look down to see that the venom hasn't yet run its course through his system yet; his eyes are still alight with the same animalistic desire that you feel pounding in your heart. your feverish sweating, the headache - most of it's gone, replaced with an intense, destructive desire that has you keening into his hand as it cups your used pussy, his eyes teasing.

"no," you moan, "you?"

he's already dropping to his knees as he breathes out, "no."

your eyes widen. in your haze, you're searching for any relief for this growing arousal, the feelings you have for Joel driving you to beg endlessly for him, yet you hadn't expected him to do this. immediately, his hands wrap around your shaking thighs, his breath hitting your bare, throbbing pussy. you can't even think as you card your fingers back through his hair, hips jerking up away from his face as he licks a small stripe over her swollen clit.

you're so worked up that you can't help the tightening coil as he soon dives his tongue into you, cleaning up the mess you'd made between your thighs, swirling around your clit.

you tug hard at his hair's roots, hard enough he's sending a groan into you that reverberates through you, vibrating your chest as you clamp one hand over your lips.

fiery pleasure snakes through your body, your ankles falling over his shoulder onto his back as he eats you out like a staved man. you see his arm moving through your clouded vision and you let out a pathetic whimper as you realize the wet noises aren't just from his mouth on you: he's fucking his fist. his movements make your legs shake hard, eyes rolling back as he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue.

“Joel,” you mutter, his name the only thing that can come out of your mouth as you can’t help but grind down slightly. Joel's hands are hard on your hips; you know tomorrow as you pull on your jeans, you'll have ten fingerprints marked into you.

it sends a delicious swirl of pride through you as he moans into you, "you taste so good, darlin'.” he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to your heat. your eyes roll back again as one of his hands reaches up to grasp your tit, thumb and finger pinching and rolling as he fucks his tongue into you. one of his hands snakes up to your ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making you buck your hips against him.

“Joel, i-” you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, the overstimulating pressure making it increasingly harder to speak. your toes curl and head tilts back as his teeth graze over your clit, your thighs clenching shut as your orgasm nears violently quick.

"you gonna cum again?" he mutters, barely breaking away from you, his own hand moving fast as he fucks his fist; you yearn to feel him in your mouth, to taste him. “please, please.” you mutter, your hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at your clit and making you cry out. “please, make me cum, Joel.” you plead, tugging his head closer, his hand slapping your ass again.

and then you're clenching your thighs on either side of him and grinding down as you hit your peak, shaking in pleasure. you grind yourself onto his tongue as he drinks you in, cleaning you of every last drop, his thumb soothing over your hip. he rides you through your high, lapping at you and only pulling away when you go lax on the mattress, legs twitching, gasps ragged and scarce.

you'd have probably passed out right then and there if it hadn't been for his own strangled grunt, your eyes snapping back to him, to where his hand wraps around his own dick, slick with your cum and his own spit.

"Joel," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot as your mind starts to lift, desire yet again pooling between your thighs as you slide down, off the bed until your back hits it, hands caressing over his thighs, "let me taste you." you ask, cheek hot as it lays on his thigh, your eyes begging up at him.

he moans deeply as one had slides behind your neck, steadying you as his other grips himself, "stick out your tongue." his pupils are blown so wide you can only see black. you follow his order, sticking out your tongue as you eagerly lean towards his cock, his brows furrowing as he slaps your tongue with himself.

his hands tug you towards him, your lips tugging over him as you take him into your mouth, trying your best to look up at him. you gag around him as he thrusts his hips forward, your hands flying up to grip his thighs. "fuck, look at you," he moans, his grip tight against your head, slowly starting to fuck your throat, your eyes tearing up. "so eager for me, bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, hm?"

your face heats up as you hum, unable to say anything as he slides into you, tip pushing against your throat, your eyes rolling back. "yeah, you would. i know you think about it, darlin'. think about it all the time."

you should be embarrassed to learn that Joel had, under more sober circumstances, noticed how you acted around him. but instead you let the trail of spit slide down your chin and onto your bare breasts, your fingers pushing it over your hardened nipples as he pulls off your mouth.

you gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes. "get on the bed." he orders and you scramble with weak legs onto the mattress, staring at him, the familiarly torturous desire in you throbbing. his hands push you around until you're on your elbows and knees, his hand swatting your ass. "gonna cum on that pretty ass." he mutters, hand grabbing a handful of the plush skin as he spreads you open, "okay?"

"yes, yes, please." you mutter, face sweaty and stuck with your wet hair as he leans down, spitting onto your glistening, puffy cunt. you're nearly sobbing into the sheets as he slides into your wet, warm hole, his groans just as wrecked as you.

"jesus christ, girl." he mutters to himself as he starts to thrust into you, the new angle setting your whole body alight with the coiled pleasure. it builds fast until you feel like you're on fire, his hands rough against your hips, swatting your ass every time your hips pulled away from the overstimulation.

"you need to come." his breath is hot as it hits your cheek, his chest pressing to your back. he's deep into you, tip hitting your sweet spot with every rolling thrust of his hips. then slipping one hand onto the back of your neck, the other snaking to toy with your sensitive clit.

your legs nearly give out as your back arches, the orgasm crashing over you before you can even register it.

you can't see, blind with the bliss of pleasure; your thighs shake as he mutters dirty words into your ear, Joel's hips stuttering as you clamp and flutter around him, slickening yourself and his pubic hair, skin wet with your arousal. you're so sensitive you can't do anything but take his cock as he fucks you, deeper and slower as though he's coming down with the mind fog just as you.

when he hits his own mind-numbing orgasm, he's pulling out of you fast and finishing in hot spurts onto your ass, streaking up your lower back and sliding down into your quivering core.

your name is the only thing on his lips as he slowly slumps down onto the mattress next to you.

you both wait; it's silent besides your sniffling from the overstimulation and the soreness of your throat and Joel's labored breaths. you both wait to see if that torturous feeling comes back to your groins, suffocating and clouding your judgement.

but instead, the fog clears, and within five minutes of silence and stoicism, you're sure that whatever the venom was, it'd passed through your system. "Joel?" you whisper it, cracking slightly. you hear his head shift; he'd not looked at you at all. you're not sure you blame him, embarrassment creeping through your face. but not regret. definitely not regret.

he whispers your name back, and there's a vulnerability in it that has your eyes snapping to his, searching for the dilation of his pupils, any sign to show the venom was still in his system. you can't find any. "do you- is it gone? for you?"

he blinks at you once before nodding his head, "yes. n'you?" you nod at him, muttering a small, "yeah."

he knows he should go get a cloth to clean you up. he'd possibly have to help you up, help you dress... his throat dries as his now less foggy brain recovers the memories of moments ago; the size of your pupils blown out with lust. he looks over you; he'd ruined you.

another wave of self-doubt runs through him; you were not like him, you weren't bad like him. you deserve better.

but the way you stare at him now, as though you want nothing more than to do what you'd both just done every day with him...

he opens an arm, accepting you as you slide your limp, exhausted body against his own naked form, his arm squeezing you to his chest as he sighs deeply. you nuzzle your face into his neck, your own heart racing just as fast as his.

he feels like a damn fool - it'd been far too long for him, he's not sure how to approach these feelings he harbors for you, so he'd hidden them down with anger and irritation and eye rolls; but now he's gone and fucked you like you were just some other whore.

his lips press to your forehead. he doesn't think he can say anything, not right now. he still feels like he's got a fever, and by the looks of you, you feel it too.

so he hopes the kiss he tenderly lays on your hairline says what he can't: he's sorry he was rough with you. he hopes you're okay. he hopes you don't regret it. he hopes you know... he hopes you know it wasn't just about that damn plant’s venom.

he pulls away from you after just a moment, rising to tug on his boxers. but as he crosses the threshold into the bathroom to gather a washcloth for you, your soft voice stops him.

"Joel." you mutter, eyes nervous, exhausted. he stops, looking at you.

you're just as nervous as he looks; you're unsure how to interact with him now, the man you trust with your life, the one who acts like he hates you, the one you know probably loves you; and then you'd fucked him like he was just a dick, though you wish you could tell him: he's so much to you.

"that wasn't-" you're unsure how to convey it, "it wasn't just about the-whatever that plant was. I don't regret it. and I hope you don't either." you're glad it sounds as genuine as you feel when you say it. you want him to know he didn't hurt you. and you hope you didn't hurt him.

his face flashes with relief, with adoration. "I don't." he says, turning from you quickly.

and if his lips ghost over your knees and leave goosebumps on their wake, if his hands soothe gently over every budding bruise of his handprint on your hip; you don't mention it now.

if he gently and devotedly wipes you both clean, if your hands fold together as he settles back down against you, if your hearts beat together as you settle into the fever nap that claims you both; you just smile gently at his bashful grin.

and if your lips brush against each other just before the sleep takes you both; well, then you'll talk about it all later.

taglist: (message to be on joel miller taglist/regular tag list.)

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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starsandhughes · 9 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Shoulder Check Showcase Edition

photo credits via instagram by _msfilms, henchcliffe_media, and greghorowitzphoto! all accounts are public dw! look at the tagged photos of the shoulder check on insta for more pics and the videos i took screenshots of!

22-23 Season & Summer Masterlist

p.s. kreider is in this bc it makes sense… sue me. tw to non rangers fans on him ig??

this is a long one to make up for all my short ones recently <3 (lie i just couldn’t shut up)

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, shattdeuces, and 11,469 others

yourusername “the shoulder signifies something very important. it’s a commitment to reaching out, checking in, making sure everybody is okay. it’s a small gesture with a very big impact— the impact being that kindness is cool.”

on august 3rd, trevor participated in the shoulder check showcase for the HT40 foundation post being drafted first overall for said showcase!

he was captain of team moulson (the black jerseys!), scored the eighth goal for the team with a pass from my good friend nesty! the fifth slide is his celly where the damn fool kissed his stick. (this was post him failing at the michigan about nine million times) (it’s your signature move, babe. get it together.)

🚨he also committed the only crime of the night!🚨(the refs didn’t penalize him and i’m guessing that was just to keep the fast pace going) (the crowd had other opinions) (so did i) what was the crime? HE TRIPPED CHRIS KREIDER! aka his summer training partner! don’t worry though! he was belittled at dinner with chris and i AND i made him sit in the bathroom for two minutes to account for his crimes<3

sorry you lost in a shootout, my love! but you missed two shootout goals so this is all your fault, captain!

thank you, father zegras, for being a founding board members for the HT40 foundation and being a huge part in this cause. as someone who has struggled in the past, the work that this foundation does really means a lot to me.

p.s. i loved seeing shatty/mom, nesty, sonny, and spencer! i’ve missed you guys! mwah!

remember besties: reach out, check in, and make contact. because kindness is a contact sport🩵

tagged trevorzegras and theshouldercheck

view all 433 comments

trevorzegras i’m so proud of you for all that you’ve overcome❤️ i love you, forever

yourusername i love you, always, z-baby❤️ (except when you make me cry like rn ihy)

trevorzegras i’m not taking it back! p.s. tackling me for a hug is not what was meant!

yourusername kindness is a contact sport and i chose football <3

trevorzegras can’t you choose any other sport?

yourusername i could choose water polo and drown you out of love

trevorzegras football it is!

yourusername kisses can be my field goals!

trevorzegras what about your two point conversions?

yourusername foreplay!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername @/trevorzegras don’t play football in front of me

_quinnhughes @/yourusername @/trevorzegras i don’t think you two gave water polo enough thought

user42 he really tripped that old man… so trevor zegras of him

_quinnhughes you forgot to mention that when he called me to have you let him out you turned his penalty into a five minute major

yourusername two minutes for snitching->📦

_quinnhughes you’re in stamford?

yourusername update: i facetimed quinn and screamed until he sat in the bathroom

trevorzegras update: i’m giving her a penalty for screaming

yourusername update: trevor has a penalty for attempting to give me a penalty

trevorzegras update: kisses got me out early

_quinnhughes update: i hate you both

yourusername update: quinn has a double minor

yourusername update: jacky boy has two minutes just because

jackhughes update: i’m looking for a new soulmate

user6 the fact that if the refs were calling penalties z wouldn’t been starting the season with -1 games since his last penalty 😭

jackhughes strongest girl i know alert!

yourusername pls don’t make me emotional online i have a reputation to uphold mr. “heart not boobs”

lhughes_06 @/yourusername accept that you’re basically wonder woman

yourusername @/lhughes_06 accept that miley cyrus’s song wonder woman makes that comment 1000x more emo for me

jackhughes @/yourusername accept that you’re loved (despite the speech comment)

lhughes_06 @/yourusername very loved

_quinnhughes @/yourusername extremely loved

yourusername @/jackhughes @/lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes i love you all too! now stop before i sob!

user17 tell trevor thank you for signing my brother’s forehead! he was so happy!

chriskreider19 thanks for having z pay for his crimes against me!

yourusername ur so welcome thank you for feeding us occasionally!

trevorzegras please don’t thank her this has now become a common thing

yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!

shattdeuces i’ve missed you, daughter! i’ll miss your post roadies gift bags next season!

yourusername you’ll get one when you play the ducks next season! i’ll start fires to give it to you if i have to!

shattdeuces just don’t get caught!

yourusername i never do! i’m a stealthy ninja

trevorzegras @/yourusername i’ve been catching you from falling since we were sixteen i’m not sure that qualifies as “stealthy”

yourusername @/trevorzegras that’s all part of my elaborate plan to never be caught when it’s important. no one will see it coming. my clumsiness is an act.

jackhughes @/yourusername an act that started at five years old?

yourusername @/jackhughes yes!

user4 announcers before the game started: we might see trevor do the michigan in person tonight! trevor: *attempts and fails 3 times*

_alexturcotte yeah babe! it’s your signature move! get it together! @/trevorzegras

trevorzegras don’t tell me what to do

yourusername @/trevorzegras get it together!

trevorzegras @/yourusername …yes dear

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras I’VE KNOWN YOU LONGER DO I MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!

yourusername @_alexturcotte jealousy isn’t a good color on you

trevorzegras @_alexturcotte ily babe

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras ilym babe

yourusername @/trevorzegras ten minute major for infidelity!

trevorzegras @/yourusername worth it

user66 I CAN HEAR THE FIRST PICTURE 😭

jamie.drysdale i fully expect to be tackled next time i see you ms. “i choose football”

yourusername trevor will want to ask us to get a room because I MISS YOU SO BAD JAMIE BABY

trevorzegras @/yourusername what do you plan to do?!?!

jamie.drysdale I MISS YOU TOO

yourusername I LOVE YOU WITH MY WHOLE BUTT

jamie.drysdale I LOVE YOU TOO YOU WEIRDO

trevorzegras @/yourusername WHAT DO YOU PLAN TO DO?!?!?!

yourusername @/trevorzegras commit infidelity

trevorzegras @/yourusername ten minute misconduct

yourusername @/trevorzegras worth it

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras technically she was my wife first

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale ejected from the game

yourusername @/trevorzegras hold up you can commit infidelity and i can’t?!

trevorzegras @/yourusername correct

yourusername @/trevorzegras misogyny at its finest. you’re kicked out of our mojo dojo casa house.

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras ejected? nah. evicted.

trevorzegras update: i’m now homeless

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras you’re not living with me this time

user97 this game just made me miss hockey more

slknight35 you wouldn’t ever give me a penalty right?

yourusername never. you and coley can do no wrong ever. and if you do, i’ll cover it up or take the fall. i’ll kill for you. i’ll sell trevor. i love you.

slknight35 i forgot that you’re so violently endearing😂 i love you too

jackhughes @/slknight35 she’s gotten worse since high school

colecaufield @/yourusername i love you best friend number two!

slknight35 @/jackhughes that’s terrifying

yourusername @/slkight35 yes i am <3

yourusername @/colecaufield I AIN’T GONNA EVER STOP LOVING YOU B(est) (fr)I(end) (number) T(wo) CH

colecaufield @/yourusername you ain’t slick

jackhughes @/yourusername but you are cringe

yourusername @/jackhughes bitch <3

yourusername in hopes that this comes up as a top comment for someone: you are all so loved. every single one of you. thank you for all the support that you give me, the boys, and to all the other teams, players, and their families that you share your love to. check in on your friends. even the ones that always seem to be the happiest person around. spread love, spread hope, and spread kindness🩵 mwah!

#penalty box series #penalty box series: bonus editions #trevor zegras #trevor zegras au #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras insta edit #trevor zegras x hughes reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jamie drysdale #cole caufield #spencer knight #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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arachnoia · 10 months

Text

mode ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x afab! reader

in which one of new york’s most famous models runs into an old acquaintance during a modeling gig.

had a lil drabble in mind so i wrote it!! thank you guys so so much for liking my last posts it means a lot!! tbh idk what this was but I was j writing. i’m open to write other characters but need ideas so pls drop some in my requests! formula 1 is also going to be continued v v soon!

thank you! 😪🙏🏼

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’ve always had aspirations of becoming a model, being on a billboard along with many celebrities you admired.

The posing, the glamour, the attention.

It was a dream you’ve always had, having an insatiable hunger for it.

You drank your chai in peace as you were just finished your Pilates class. You had a photoshoot later on to model some new brand that hit social media and exploded in popularity. It could help both your public images.

“Good morning, N/n!” Jess said, giving you a hug from behind.

Jess is your roommate and has been your best friend since your freshman year in high school. The both of you bonded over American pop culture, fashion, and the immense difficulty of your freshman physics class.

She had your back when you forgot the formula for net force and when you were having emotional turmoil over your crush on Miguel O’Hara.

Everyone knew about your crush on him because who would have a crush on the physics math geek?

You.

He was scrawny, quiet, a nerd, and no one knew who he was. Until people found out you liked him, which was obvious because you would get caught staring at him from across the lunchroom multiple times.

The two of you were polar opposites socially.

You weren’t popular, to say the least, but it’s not like people didn’t know who you are. There were a decent amount of people who liked you in high school, but you only had your eye on him.

Like Jess, he was also in your physics class freshman year and caught your eye.

He’s the reason why you wanted to do modeling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was junior year in your AP Lang class and you two were doing peer reviews for an essay.

You two were in a library near your high school. It was quiet until he just blurted out: “You should consider modeling, Y/n.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden compliment, “What?”

He just shrugged and pushed up his square glasses. “I’m just saying that you’d look nice on a cover of a magazine. You look the type.”

“O-Oh…Thanks?”

You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so awkward.

His face stayed as nonchalant as always, “Mhm.”

It was safe to say that there wasn’t a single word spoken after that.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Jess tied up her hair and stretched. “Do you need a ride? Isn’t the studio in Manhattan?”

You shook your head and sipped your chai, “Nope, it’s in Brooklyn. And it’s okay! I have some errands to run after the shoot if it won’t take long.”

“Alright, girl. What’s the guy’s name again? The guy that owns the brand.”

“I think his name's Gabriel?” You shrugged and took a bite out of your açaí bowl. Jess took a spoon and ate some too.

“Wow! You just take my breakfast huh?”

Jess giggled and ran back to her room, “Good luckkkk!”

You scoffed and smiled, “You bitch!”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You took the train to get to the studio and walked there.

It was a little apartment building that had some graffiti on the side of the wall. You liked how nice the graffiti was.

You went inside and knocked on the door for apartment 206.

You heard some clutter and a voice all of a sudden, “-Coming!”

The door opened to a young man, maybe in his 20s? Early 30s?

“Hi, my name is Gabriel! You’re Y/n Y/l/n? I’ve heard so much about you! You’re an amazing model. Your magazine shoot with Vogue was so nice!” he gushed.

His voice sounded really familiar but wasn’t at the same time.

“Oh thank you so much! Your brand is actually really nice! Thank you for reaching out! Can I come in?”

He rushed in and stood to the side of the door, “Of course! Come right in!”

The apartment was really nice and was a decent size. Not too big and small.

Some assistants were running around getting some clothes ready and preparing the violet backdrop with a silver desk that looked like something out of Star Wars.

You got into many different outfits which were really modern and motorsport-ish.

It reminded you of that futuristic streetwear style that’s growing these days, which was really fresh to see.

Gabriel popped in from the lounge area where you were already dressed to go home, “You did really good! Again thank you so much for coming! It’s going to do the brand so so well!”

You smiled and nodded, “Of course! It was nice meeting-“

You heard the door open and was interrupted by another voice, “Hey Gabri, you left your electronic watch at my place.”

Gabriel smiled and went over to claim his watch, punching the man in the arm, “Thanks Miggy!”

Your face twisted from a smile to a shocked expression.

“Oh! Y/n, meet my older brother, Miguel!” Gabriel said, pointing at his brother.

“Miggy, meet Y/n Y/l/n! She’s an awesome model who’s helping me promote my brand!”

He looked over to you and stared, “I’ve heard of who she is.”

You couldn’t help but have your jaw drop. Your eyes couldn’t believe it.

That scrawny, shy kid from high school was no more. He got replaced by a man with a body identical to a greek god’s, beautiful, luscious locks of chestnut hair, and gorgeous arms.

He still had his old square glasses which added charm to the rest of his outfit; a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants.

He made you feel like you were back in high school, crushing on him while he explained formulas to you.

“I said ‘hi’, Ms. Y/l/n,” he smiled, looking you up and down. You didn’t know if he was being judgmental or just observing.

“O-Oh! Hi!” You held at your hand to Miguel, who looked a slight bit amused and shook it.

“My brother here is a chemical engineer at this place, Alche-what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and laughed, “Alchemax. And it’s nice to meet you, miss.”

Gabriel smiled and checked his phone due to it ringing loudly, “Shoot! I have to pick up some fabric I ordered. It’s the last one they have! Migs, please lock up! Good bye, Ms. Y/l/n!”

Gabriel ran out the studio and threw the keys at Miguel, who caught them quickly.

Miguel looked back at you and smiled sarcastically, “Y’know, it would’ve been nice if you weren’t eye fucking me in front of my own brother, Ms. Y/l/n.”

You felt shivers down your spine.

The way your last name rolled off his tongue was so sexy, especially with that slight accent he’s always had.

You tried to say something so you wouldn’t look like a complete idiot in front of your high school crush, “E-Excuse me…?“

“You heard me, Y/n.”

Oh fuck.

“I b-believe you’re mistaken. I would never do that in a professional setting with someone I work with.”

You mentally cheered yourself on. You weren’t sounding like an idiot anymore.

You don’t think.

He hummed and shrugged, “I didn’t think I would see you working with my brother, yet here we are. How’s life been?”

What the fuck?

How could he be so calm and asking ‘how’s life?’ after accusing you for eyefucking him.

He wasn’t wrong but it’s embarrassing.

“It’s fine. So you work at Alchemax?”

“Yeah. We’re working on something right now, but I can’t tell you.” He started chuckling and folded his arms

God, how much you loved that in high school.

Even then, he would make every single little thing so sexy.

In high school, he looked like he had never experienced a touch of a woman.

But now…

“Why not?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s top secret, nena.”

You looked at him from the side of your eye and he locked eyes with you.

You couldn’t deny the rough tension in the room.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of ruby red, accentuated thanks to the blinding glare of the studio lights still being on.

Then you locked your eyes to his lips. They were so full and beautiful and you wanted to kiss them.

He smiled at you and was going to pull back from his leaning position before you wrapped your arms around his neck and connected your lips to his.

You’ve been waiting since freshman year to kiss him. Who could blame you?

What you didn’t expect is for him to kiss you back, more rough and passionate.

You felt him smile a bit, making you kiss him even more.

It didn’t take long for you and Miguel to walk towards the desk, where he broke from the kiss and pushed you against the desk, ass facing him.

You were still in disbelief that you were making out with your high school crush so suddenly, making your heart pound.

You were wearing one of your favorite outfits; a black corset top and a white lace skirt you stole from Jess.

You felt him rub your ass before he spanked it under your skirt, hearing him growl a bit. “Fuck…”

He leaned towards to kiss your cheek, feeling his hard bulge from his sweatpants. “Let me make you feel good, cariño.”

Did you mention you loved it when he spoke in Spanish? You loved it when he spoke in general.

You turned around and sat on the desk as you took off your top and slid down your skirt, leaving you in your panties.

He looked at you up and down again, now with underlying lust and darkness in his eyes, “I’ve been waiting to do this since high school.”

He roughly took his shirt off and also slid down his pants, leaving you to gawk at his stunningly toned body.

“Like what you see? Careful, mi bélla, you have something aquí,” he smirked as he caressed your face.

He placed his hand on your hip and played with the string of your underwear before ripping it apart with his (abnormally?) long nails.

“That’s better,” he said as he pulled the piece of clothing off of you. He took off his boxers and as soon as he did that, you kneeled down and started rubbing on his length.

“Let me make you feel good first.” You started grazing your lips on it and kissed his swollen tip, already oozing with precum.

You put him inside your mouth and he started to gently thrust as you started to suck.

“Yeah baby, you feel so fucking good-"

You felt like gagging, taking him all, thick, long, and veiny.

It didn’t take long for him to ejaculate in your mouth, having you swallow and some of his cum spilling on the sides of your mouth.

“God, you look so sexy like this,” he whispered, brushing some of your hair away from your face. You smiled up at him as he bit his lip.

He sat you on top of the desk, legs wide open.

He started to play with your clit and inserted two fingers almost immediatly to your already wet core.

"M-Miguel...fuck."

You whimpered quietly as he started to fingerfuck you fastly.

He chuckled darkly, "If you can't handle my fingers, then I'd like to see you handle my cock."

You laughed dryly and cried out as he went even faster.

Right as you were going to come, he stopped.

"Why did you do that," you slurred, feeling high on the sexual tension.

"Don't worry, just wait."

He whispered as he kept teasing your poor clit and started to pump his dick.

"Shhhhh" he muttered as he started to insert himself inch by inch, “Estas haciendo bien, mi linda. AY DIOS-"

Your eyes widened at how much he stretched you out, and it was barely the tip. "Oh fuck, Miguel-"

"D-Don't worry, baby. You're doing good..."

You scratched at his back as you bounced again and again. "O-Oh my fucking god..."

You felt like you were in a porn movie with how loud your moans and how bright the studio lights were, accentuating every crease and muscle on Miguel’s hot body.

You couldn’t help but stare as he mindlessly rearranges your organs fucking you.

You started to hold on to his arms as he went at a violent pace.

“A-Alchemax must stress the living shit out of you, h-huh? F-FUCK!”

He smiled a bit as he went a little faster, “You can’t...imagine. Estos pinche- PUTA MADRÉ-"

You felt him twitch inside of you and release, filling you up to the brim as you released your high as well.

"Oh s-shit..."

You mumbled before covering your face, turning over to hide your face and just bent over.

He kissed your exhausted body on the desk, all sweaty and hot from your tiring activities from earlier.

As he dressed up again, he couldn’t help but stare at his masterpiece; having Y/n Y/l/n, one of New York’s most respected models, in such a slutted out position.

Bent over and trembling, filled up to the rim with his cum.

Although he was a chemical engineer at such a highly respected place such as Alchemax, he couldn't help but feel proud that he had you like this.

Just for him.

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exhaustedrebel05 · 7 months

Text

Whatever the weather

Arcane Viktor x Fem! Reader

a/n: Hi, so this is the first time I post something that I wrote, I hope you like it.

I do not own anything here except the product of my creativity.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: mentioned feelings of despair, chronic illness, fluff, new fanfic writer who wrote this on a whim, and possible bad punctuation.

Tell me if I forgot something pls

Summary: You bring food to Viktor in the lab and end up having a moment.

Definitions: Zaya means "little bunny" in Russian. At least, that is what Google told me.

And here we go...

The hallways of the Academy echoed with your footsteps as you made your way to Viktor and Jayce's lab. Well, more Viktor's than Joyce's now that he was more involved in the political side of progress.

Viktor tried to act like the absence of his friend and fellow Hex tech founder didn't bother him, but you knew that deep down it did. You could see it in the way he was returning to old habits of believing he had to do everything on his own.

Even though he did not, and was not on his own. Especially with his declining health. It is not the best idea to leave him alone for hours on end.

You all understood that it was better if they had a say in the decisions regarding Hex tech's future. In order to ensure that it is safe from ending up in the wrong hands. Hands that would use it to destroy lives instead of improving them.

Nonetheless, it left much of the work for Viktor to go through alone, but he never complained. Your beloved is a man racing against time and fate.

Trying to complete and discover as much as his delicate body allows him to. Powering through all of the equations and push backs that came his way.

However, he could only do so much running on maybe four hours of sleep and the academy's cafeteria food. Which is why you were here, at his lab's door, fully expecting to see him hunched over his current project. Fully focused. Tuning out all of the world in order to improve it.

Knowing this, you don't even bother knocking on the large ancient doors; entering the lab filled with papers and project pieces scattered in a sort of organized chaos throughout the room. And in the back of said chaos is Viktor, sitting at his desk exactly as you imagined.

As you walk towards him, you decide to stand beside him and attempt to make your presence known without giving him a heart attack.

Like you had nearly done that one time.

You swear that man nearly jumped six feet from his chair when you placed a kiss on his cheek. Thinking that he had heard you come in.

No response...

With a gentle sigh, you lean down towards him and call his name in a sing-song voice. Hoping to bring him back to your plane of existence.

You reach out slowly, twinkling your fingers in front of him. He takes notice, chuckling as your fingers gently tap on the side of his face - then his nose.

"Hello love," He says, looking up to you with those golden orbs that make your knees weak. He sets down his work and kisses your hand.

"Hi, care for a break?" You ask, showing him the container of home cooked food you had brought him. He turns his chair to face you completely. His focus filled expression turned into delight.

"Hmmm, I suppose I could indulge." He answers, raising a mischievous eyebrow reaching out to take the food.

You move the container slightly out of his reach. Eyes trained on his expression of confusion that turns into acceptance of your challenge.

"Oh, that's how it is?" He asks, amusement apparent in his voice and expression.

"How what is?" You reply nonchalantly as possible, trying to keep a smile from spreading across your face.

The amusement filled amber eyes became daring as a beat of energy filled silence passed between you both. You were not protected from what came next.

Slender hands find their way to your waist and tickle you with no mercy. You squeal and try to move away, but you are held in place.

"Nah ah ah! Zaya, you are not getting away from me that easily!" He states as he attacks you with another wave of tickles.

"I surrender…I surrender!" You gasp, breathless from your laughter.

He hums satisfied with his victory and pulls you close, looking up into your eyes from his seated position.

Your cheeks are flushed from his little attack, and your eyes are bright from your laughter. The moment eases his mind and body. He wishes the two of you could stay here, like this, forever.

His life is not easy. At times, the pain is too much for his body, and he wants nothing more than for it to stop. To find peace and freedom from his all too delicate state.

But then who will finish all the work?

Understand all of his notes and research?

Progress doesn't happen on its own, and Jayce has his hands full with his new role.

Then there was you…

He never expected anyone to have a romantic interest in him, much less knowing that his time may no- would be limited. That in the end, you would be left all alone...

That is what troubled him the most.

You told him you would cross that bridge when you get there. That you understood what it meant to love him; and he was loved nonetheless.

It wasn't always easy, but that is what it means to love someone. It is standing beside them when times are at their worst. When they are at their worst.

Being there to help them back on their feet and facing the challenge together. He also knew how fortunate he was to have what so many others only dreamed about.

You place a hand on his cheek and brush the wild tousled hair out of his face with the other. Bringing him back from his thoughts, grounding him to the present.

"Hey, come back to me." Your voice is as soft as your expression. Eyes gazing lovingly into his own, which were equally enamored.

He gently tugs your arms, signaling for you to come closer.

"I am here."

His eyes never leave yours as he brings you in for a passionate kiss. He doesn't know what the future holds, but he knows you both will cross that bridge when you get there.

#arcane #viktor x reader #league of legends #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader

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ijustreallylovethem · 1 year

Note

146 for Luke pls

just a psa, because i did forget to say this in my post, i don’t write full smut anymore but i’m not opposed to smutty prompts. so this doesn’t go into detail but since i can write around it i’m still down to write it!

you sighed as you put your car in park, taking a moment to yourself before you got out and went into the house. you had just gotten out of class, which absolutely drained you. you didn’t understand a single thing going on, despite taking notes and doing your best to study them.

you had failed your test last week, and that’s when you complained to your best friend like about it. he had taken the class last semester and told you he could help you with the material, as it was a class he actually really enjoyed. so here you were, day one of your little tutoring sessions. you got out of your car and made you way inside, finding ethan and mark on the couch watching tv. they both looked up and greeted you when you came in and you stopped, about to say hello when the image on the screen caught your attention.

“oh my god, what are you watching?”

“some old slasher movie i found,” ethan answered.

“the effects are super disgusting,” mark told you just as some lady got her organs ripped out. you grimaced.

“i see that. where’s luke?”

“ooh, why? got a date planned?” ethan teased and you rolled your eyes.

“no, he’s going to attempt to make me less stupid.”

“hey, you’re not stupid.”

“my grade begs to differ,” you mumbled.

“well good luck. he’s in his room.” you have a thumbs up, taking off toward luke’s room to find him. your phone dinged as you went, and you pulled it from your pocket to find a text from your mom. you replied as you walked, barely stopping to look up when you reached luke’s door and opened it. you sent your response as you walked in, too preoccupied to register luke frantically shuffling around in his bed. you looked up from your phone, stopping in your tracks and taking a second to look at him. his chest was heaving and he was slightly sweaty and with the way the blanket was covering him you could tell what you accidentally walked into.

“um, were you just masturbating?” his face flushed and even deeper red than it already was.

“n-no. no, i was just, uh,” the room fell silent, neither of you knowing what to say. you spoke before the thought even registered in your head.

“you want some help?”

“what?”

“well i have to pay you back for helping me with this class anyway so-“

“oh shit, i forgot you were coming over to work on that.” you shrugged.

“it’s whatever. but anyway, you want help or do you want me to go wait in the living room?” you asked. he took a second to think and then glanced to the door and back to you.

“lock the door.”

#luke hughes #blurb

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nono-uwu · 2 months

Text

Ons chapter 135 thoughts!!

Spoilers duh (also very long post. Lmk if I should add the read more cut)

- KAGAMI I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD IT IN YOU TO GIVE CHESS AND HORN MORE SCREENTIME BUT THANK YOU ANYWAYS

- I am so glad that the whole digestion thing is more symbolical bc... that inital wording really threw me off lmao

- on that note, the immagery of the dead trees with the bodies sticking out of 'em... very creepy and on point, I think it's neat

- they actually adressed Crowley forgetting them! Wowzers (side note she looks hella adorable. My little skrunkly)

- ouugh the dynamic... where was it earlier? It seems so much more casual than during the Nagoya arc (probably just wishful thinking on my part lmao)... idc how give us more of this

- "you two were my first servants", LORE CRUMBS! I guess.

- wait so, they're still becoming demons? But isn't that a form of reincarnation, the thing Ferid is specifically trying to stop? But he's also devouring them... to absorb their power I guess? Since later on Ferid mentions now being more powerful after devouring Crowley (I'll get to that asspull later)

- Also Horn looks a teensy bit weird with the new artstyle but she's still super pretty 🫶 be my wife pls

- So, 16 year old Ferid is inside himself as his 'true self'? I assume that because he got the idea to stop reincarnation when he was 16 and hasn't changed his mind since (never let 16 year olds make big decisions in this world, it only leads to disaster)

- the skrunkle part 2. Also I doubt being digested like that feels good in any way. And with how slow it's supposed to be, yikes.

- I have a theory (aka major amounts of copium): Yuu will bust in and save Crowley because of 'fAmiLy' and also save Chess and Horn since they're family by association

- No one can reach Ferid, eh? And then Corwley's voice reaches him. Kagami and his queerbaiting amirite

- However Ferid then snags Crowley and ig he's on the priority list of getting devoured. Probably bc he's the strongest vampire Ferid has eaten. Cannibalism as a metaphor for love and devotion or whatever, except it's very literal and I doubt there's any love beyond 'u and interesting critter dude' from both sides

- Ok here's my major nitpick with this chapter: KAGAMI STOP BREAKING AND BENDING YOUR OWN FUCKING WORLDBUILDING AND POWER SYTEMS. Until now it was established that a vampires strenght is dependant on 1. their rank (as in who's blood turned them) and 2. their age. But now appearantly Ferid can eat vampires and absorb their strenght? If this was some universal but very difficult thing for any vampire to do, then I wouldn't be this salty. Also one of my favourite things about Ferid as an antagonist was, that power-wise he was on the weaker side. Despite being 'weak' he was still a major threat. He made up for his lack in actual fighting power with smarts and immaculate planning. But now he's another uber-strong genius. C'mon we already had Shikama and Rigr for that department. Bleh.

- now for the Yuu / Rigr and co confrontation, it's fiiiiine. I guess. At least Shikama is still somewhat of a formidable threat. Not to the major characters obviously but yk, it's something.

- rip Basteya. You showed up, slayed for a little and died.

- Kirsten still looks fugly as hell lmao

- so do Ulrich and Roger

- So, who will be faster: Shinoa in absorbing Shikama or Yuu in saving him? My bet is on Yuu purley bc he's supposed to be the main character but ig we'll see next chapter

- KRUL!!! AND THE BAT THING I FORGOT IT'S NAME

- sadly no Ferid / Krul brawl this chapter but yk what makes me excited for next chapter

- my guess is that now Krul is Ferids next target to be chomped. Hopefully she will beat his ass. Like when she first appeared. Ahhh the good old times

- 'A big fan of yours... M'lady Queen' lmao. What's next Ferid, will you put on a Fedora? Bro that last panel ain't it. Fuckin Sebastian of black butler wannabe 💀

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #crowley eusford #ferid bathory #chess belle #horn skuld #krul tepes #ons spoilers

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asta-writes-stuff-moved · 3 months

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Y/N and Campbell Bain go out for the night

a/n: this is my first fic!! constructive criticism is fine but pls be nice :]

wc: 856

c/w: alcohol (only mentioned), think that's it, lmk if not tho

“Hey, Campbell,” You whisper through the dark.

“What is it?” He replies, his voice full of sleep.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Aw shit, I’m sorry Y/N, I forgot. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

“Ok,”

You fiddle with your fingers as you hear him rustling about in his room. Your attention shifts as he pops his head around the doorframe.

“You got anything you’ll need?”

“Yeah, in my bag,” You lift it up to show him.

“Perfect,” He flashes that wide grin of his and steps out of his room, checking around for anyone watching before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the door that leads out of the ward. He fishes in his jacket pocket for a moment before he pulls out Fergus’ card and unlocks the door.

“After you m’lady!”

“Why thank you, kind sir!” He laughs at your attempt at a posh accent and you step out of the ward.

“So where exactly are we going?” You ask as the two of you walk across the quiet hospital grounds.

“A spot I know,” He grins at you, “you’ll find out soon enough won’t ye? Quit asking!”

The two of you walk until you reach the back of a wide building. As you inspect the building you notice flashing lights through the cracks of an exit door.

“Fergus told me I could just tell them we know him and they’d let us in. Think we’ve gotta go around front though.”

You grab his hand as he leads you around to the front of the building. It seems fairly inconspicuous aside from the strobe lights still flashing through the cracks of the doors.

Campbell raps his knuckles on the door and the sound echoes sharply through the quiet. It takes a minute, but eventually a man opens the door. He’s tall and big and looks scary and you shuffle behind Campbell. Campbell doesn’t seem deterred by him in the slightest.

“Hey there, I was told to tell you I know Fergus MacKinnon.” He smiles widely at the man.

The man looks at the two of you for a second before nodding his head and stepping aside, letting you in the door. As you walk by him Campbell gives him a big grin and you give him a polite nod.

After you’ve gone in and had a chance to take in your surroundings you notice a few things. Firstly, everyone here seems older than you. There definitely isn’t anyone else as young as you and Campbell, probably because they serve alcohol, you think as you notice a bar on one end of the room. The second thing you notice is the blaring music. It’s not the old music you’re used to hearing on the station at St. Jude’s, it’s loud and fast, distracting you from Campbell trying to get your attention.

“Hey! Y/N! You in there?” He yells over the music, tapping your forehead.

“Yeah, sorry,” You shout back at him.

“What d’ya think? Cool place, huh?”

“Yeah, I like the music.”

“I thought you would!” He seems delighted that you like it.

“Are we allowed to be here? I think they’re serving alcohol, you know.”

“Oh, don’t worry so much Y/N, that’s not why we’re here.” He grabs your hand, surveying the place. You follow him to a small table far to one end of the room. As you sit down he grabs his chair and pulls it over right next to yours.

You lean into him so you don’t have to shout as much, “This is cool and all but why are we here Campbell?”

He leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear, “Fergus told me about it and I thought you’d like it. I know how much you love the music we’ve got at St. Jude’s so I thought you’d have a good time coming and listening to some new music.”

You can feel your face heat up as you turn to look at him. He’s smiling softly down at you and you smile back.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for ya, Y/N.”

“That was really fun, thank you Campbell.” You tell him as you walk across the grounds back to St. Jude’s.

“O’course Y/N. Just let me know if you ever wanna go again.”

He takes your hand in his and pulls you with him as he breaks into a run. The two of you race through the grounds, taking the longest route back you know of.

“Well, I guess this is where I drop ya off.” He whispers, you can hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic about it, your room is five steps away.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, well I had fun tonight. I like spending time with you.”

You stand on your tiptoes and throw your arm around his shoulders to pull him down and you plant a kiss on his cheek. He flashes that big, bright smile of his at you one last time and you return it before heading into your room and closing the door for the night.

#takin over the asylum #campbell bain x reader #campbell bain x you #campbell bain fanfiction #takin over the asylum fanfiction

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villainessprefect · 1 year

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Anonymous asked: hello!! may i request a fic with malleus x gn!reader pls? this is too specific since im having a bad day sooo my request is where reader is having a bad day since they found out their 'friends' talking sh*t behind their back and they didnt attend the whole class for the whole day and ignoring everyone esp malleus (bc reader want some alone time) so at night time, malleus found reader and just comfort them? thank you, have a good day! :)

hello! I hope this fic brings you some comfort!! don't let those types of friends get you down!

title: turn to me

summary: Your latest ‘friends’ turn out to be trash. Their words lead you down a terrible descent. At least someone is willing to reach out to you.

ship: Malleus x gn!reader

word count: 2,167

note: does this need a trigger warning for like. self-loathing?? idk

Read on AO3

You should have known from the start that it would end this way. In this hellish world, you would always be an outcast, the odd one out, the magicless one. No matter how hard you tried to fit in, no matter what you did, you were not part of this world.

But is it so wrong to hope? To think that maybe, just maybe, you could be a part of this world if only for a moment.

Perhaps you were just foolish. Naive. All you wanted was to belong somewhere. Taking a chance to break from your usual friend group had been your own undoing. You should have listened to their warnings and stayed with them. They know these people better than you do. After all, they're just like them, aren't they?

You didn't listen. You let that glimmer of hope lead you down the wrong path. All you wanted was a normal school life. With that, you could believe that you were normal.

"Aren't you tired of hanging around with that magicless Prefect yet? It's so damn boring. We can't do anything with them around!" One complained.

"Just a little longer, we can't lose our gopher just yet." Another says.

"Hey! Maybe we should start calling them our best friend. You think they'll like that?" He laughs. Loud. "I bet they'd think they're part of the group!"

"Man, not even they could be dumb enough to believe that. Although, you know what they say. No magic, no brains."

Vile gossip runs around your latest group of 'friends'. They continue to throw insults your way while unaware of your presence. At some point, you begin to tune out what they're saying. Their voices grow smaller and smaller as you make a run for it, but you can still hear their voices echoing loud and clear in your mind.

You run home, or at least to the place you're forced to call home. The door to Ramshackle is forcibly pushed open, left ajar as you head straight to your room. Your bag and books drop to the ground, supplies scattering on the floor. A part of you thinks to pick them up, another disagrees- what did it matter anyway? It's not like your friends would come over.

Finding comfort in your bed is hard. It's not the best, not the softest, it barely does its job, but its all you have. At least this old thing wouldn't betray you. Hopefully. You don't want to jinx it and have your bed turn into a futon.

You take in a shaky breath and struggle to let the darkness consume you. You're not even tired, but your body aches, your chest stinging with every heartbeat. The longer you stay awake, the more your thoughts haunt you. And the last thing you want to do is let those bastards win.

Your phone catches you off guard. In your haste to hide away from the world, you forgot to toss that aside along with your bag. All you do is dig the buzzing phone out of your pocket and turn it off, not even bothering to see who is blowing it up. Friends, new or old, you didn't want to speak to anyone. You couldn't.

With no more distractions, you lie in bed and succumb to your fate. Nasty thoughts poke at you, prodding at you and telling you how stupid you are. You wish you hadn't been so optimistic about branching out. You couldn't always rely on your usual group of friends, but at this point...it seemed like you had to.

It's impossible to reassure yourself that things are okay. They're not. You think how useless and stupid you are. And that...this is how things should have been from the start. People don't need you, you need them. You're unwanted and alone, and always will be for as long as you're in this world. And when you leave? It'll be like you were never here in the first place.

As the day draws on, you fall in and out of consciousness. You don't recall crying, but your pillow says otherwise. Your stomach craved food while feeling as if it couldn't hold down a single scrap. The only movement you willingly made was tossing back and forth for a more comfortable position.

Ramshackle is eerily quiet. The ghosts aren't hovering over you nor is Grim. The latter is probably with the others. It's fine. He's part of this world, you are not.

Something forces your body out of bed. You don't know what it is. Perhaps its an old habit that takes control of you. One that lets you meet with a dragon fae during the darker hours of the world. He doesn't always show up, and for once you pray he won't.

The cold air hits your body and you shiver. The night air that usually comforts you freezes you instead as you take a seat upon the steps of Ramshackle. The light of the moon reveals all to you. It's truly a beautiful night. One you wish you could enjoy.

A dark shadow looms over you. You don't bother lifting your gaze, merely staring down the legs that have blocked your view.

"Child of man," he starts. You don't move. "You were not at school today."

"Mhm."

"Are you feeling alright?" Malleus asks you. You can't bring yourself to speak. You don't want to have a conversation with him right now. Not with a tainted heart that's laced with the fear of betrayal. Surely he wouldn't be the same as that lot, would he?

No. Deep in your heart you know Malleus would never reach that low. He may be cheeky, but he's always been honest with you. If he wanted to end things with you, he would with the snap of his fingers. But you've always been special in his eyes. You're just...not in the mood to find that spark of hope again.

Your silence causes him to worry. The lack of acknowledgement does as well. Malleus looks forward to being beside you. Your conversations were always odd yet interesting. You never feared getting close to him, physically or otherwise. And your smile was worth waiting a whole century for. Having none of that tonight is a little upsetting. Not at you, but...for you? It's strange, difficult to put into words for him.

"Lilia once told me that silence can be hurtful and comforting, you just need to know when it's the right kind. You do not need to speak and if you wish for me to leave, simply...tell me." The last of his words comes out strained, forced. If his voice could break, you think it would have been heard then.

You take in a breath and decide his fate.

"You can stay."

You don't catch the way he lights up. How his eyes widen in surprise at your answer. His brief moment of joy doesn't last, but he finds it a blessing that you allow him to stay by your side.

Malleus takes a seat beside you. He sits closer to you compared to normal, but you don't mind. You didn't exactly pick the most spacious place to brood.

Having company after being alone all day is a little nice. His warmth helps keep some of those nasty thoughts away. Although you don't think that you really deserve this touch of kindness.

You still refuse to look at him and instead lift your gaze to the stars. You once heard that each star is a different world. With countless stars that fill the sky, that meant there were numerous worlds out there. And if a star went out, that meant the world was gone. It must have been a whimsical tale, yet now you wonder if it's true. Was your world a lost star? Is that why you're here now? Did the heavens think putting you here was better than meeting that fate?

You squeeze your body tightly.

"Malleus..." You breathe out his name, which catches him by surprise. It's unusual for you to not use the nickname you gave him. He makes no comment on it. Only watching and waiting for you to continue.

And when you face him, it hurts to see you.

Tears pricking at the corner of your eyes that are filled with nothing but pain. The sadness you bear is so heavy that he can see it. You look so lost and desperate. The friend he once knew is now broken.

"Do you ever think that...I'm worthless for not having magic?" You ask, pleading for an answer.

"No," he responds, quickly. There's a hint of anger in his eyes. He may not know who hurt you, but the question you posed gives him an idea as to how. "You are an extraordinary human in this world. If you wish to base worth off of magic, then one must do so knowing how to wield it. Even the strongest of mages can prove to be inferior to an amateur who only knows a single spell."

"But I don't know any," you respond. You hadn't meant to cut him off, but it was too late to stop now. "I'm not an amateur and I never will be. In this world, I'm not anything. Just a dumb human who thinks that there might be good in all the wrong places."

"You are not dumb." He responds and reaches out to take your hand in his. You're immediately met with his warmth. He doesn't use magic, but it feels like he cast a spell to soothe your body. "And anyone who says otherwise are the fools here. You have done plenty that others have not, without the use of magic. A hardworking and kind soul such as yourself is admirable. Your valor and resolve are truly commendable." He can't help but smirk. "Who else would dare to allow such weakness in front of me?"

You can't tell if his attempt at cheering you up is supposed to be good or not. It's fitting to come from him though. And it's just enough to make you crack a small smile.

"Only a fool would," you say with no pain in your voice. You can see the little annoyance in his eyes though, disliking at your self-loathing words. But, he allows a pass for the moment.

"Will you show your bravery by telling me what happened to you?"

You take in a breath and grip his hand. The pain from earlier is coming back, almost tenfold. It hurts the same as when you first heard those words spoken literally behind your back.

"Friends. Or I guess they're not friends anymore," you scoff. "I thought I could, you know, be a normal student with a group of friends and..." You shake your head, biting down on your lip.

"Spade and Trappola harmed you?"

"No! No! Not them!" You respond quickly. "Other, no-name, unimportant assholes," you huff out. At least that felt a little good to say, even if the insults were rather weak. "I thought I could befriend a few more people, so just in case...I won't have to be alone. But...that didn't work out."

A loud clap of thunder causes you to jump. Your hold on Malleus tightens as you instinctively huddle closer to him. You hadn't noticed the clear skies being overtaken by dark clouds, causing the night to grow darker. And after catching a flash of lightning, you feared that a storm might be coming.

"Those...not friends of yours," he spits out, as politely as he can. You can feel the anger seeping from his voice as he does his best to remain pleasant before you. "They are unwise for taking your company for granted. Your presence itself is a treasure they do not know the true value of. They are blinded by their own ignorance. If there is no one else that you can turn to, then you can always turn to me. I would never take your company for granted."

You feel a pang of guilt for your earlier thoughts. To even question that Malleus would do you harm- you'd really been a fool.

"Thanks," you whisper and let your head bump onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry for...not being in the best mood tonight. At least I know I can always count on you, Hornton," you chuckle.

Hearing that nickname brings a smile to his face. While the clouds still hover overhead, the sound of thunder and visions of lightning are no more. You release a breath that you'd been holding in and finally begin to relax.

While you know you've been keeping Malleus this whole time, you can't bear to let him go. Not yet. He shined a light upon you that you needed. And maybe, it wouldn't hurt to be a little self-indulgent.

"Can you stay a little bit longer?"

"Of course."

And just like that, the night sky is clear once more.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #gn reader #twst x reader #twst #malleus draconia x you #diasmonia #request

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itstokkii · 2 months

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1,15 and 30 :3

1: Do you relate to your favorite character(s)?

my favorite characters? not really lol, maybe I've subconsciously projected some of my traits onto uzbekistan and south korea??

with uzbekistan i think it's the enthusiasm as she introduces her siblings to others or tries to help people when they're in need(and then immediately goes back to her default scary face)! also. the way she freaks out over turkey is also something i've done several times in the past as i tried to convince my friends that no stop bringing him up ok!!! i don't feel anything!!

with south korea it's how loud and extroverted she can be(and how she constantly rizzes up her friends lol).

2: Assign Romania a traditional outfit

for a while I've absolutely loved the poofy, simple, yet elegant romanian women's folk clothing! so of course i took this chance to draw romania!

3: BroTP? Headcanons?

mmmm I constantly teeter between platonic and romantic for korhong, but inevitably...they're like bros to me. as for headcanons:

vape bros. they're the vape duo to me. idk about their favorite flavors lol

both of them are hype beasts to me. kings of streetwear. they probably have a shoe collection or something

korea will use his old age to his advantage whenever needed. "hong kong pls carry me its so hot here, please take care of your elder right now"

hong kong introduced korea to milk tea, and it's a treat they both make together and enjoy whenever one of them comes over.

yongsoo regularly goes to hong kong disneyland lol

back when goblin released in 2016 and the peak lapel coat hype reached an all time high, yongsoo gifted hong kong one. the problem with this is that he forgot hong kong's weather doesn't reach even 0 degrees in the coldest months.

i do also see turkmenistan and turkey as the Silly Oghuz Duo™.

turkmenistan will just loudly yell "WHITE MAN JUMPSCARE" whenever she catches russia on his 394653th summer trip to antalya. turkey just watches the whole thing go down.

turkmenistan is a big silver enthusiast and specialist, so on special events she'll gift turkey badges, ornaments, or rings made of silver, and in exchange he gifts her a heaping amount of turkish desserts.

turkey tries his best to get her to finally join the organization of turkic nations as a full fledged member instead of just an observer state.

🇹🇷: "will an interpretative dance get you to join"

🇹🇲: "how did you get in my kitchen"

#hetalia #tokki answers #ask game #aph romania #hws romania #aph south korea #hws south korea #im yong soo #aph korea #hws korea #aph hong kong #hws hong kong #aph turkmenistan #hws turkmenistan #aph turkey #hws turkey #sadik adnan #aph uzbekistan #hws uzbekistan

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prpfs · 1 month

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(forgot emoji!) 🌻hello! i am currently looking for some new writing partners, especially with my new oc! He’s a little (a lot) all over the place, maybe he’s an addict! would be a genius if he ever bothered to apply himself in school, but will probably end up in an alleyway somewhere. he’s a chemist and works in a lab but BOY is he bad at having a job. A bit of a conspiracy theorist and wildly delusional. Has never been told no in his life and his abilities to be a good boyfriend…questionable! I’d love to do an m/m plot with him, something modern and slice of life, and I’d love to pair him with someone who’s his total opposite or maybe vey straight-laced. An age gap plot could be fun. Bring all ur depressed old men pls. I could really see him with a bunch of different characters and situations. I would love to have something long term and I ADORE some angsty domesticity. I am over 18, so please no minors! I write third person literate, and my replies can range anywhere from three paragraphs to novella length, depending on my partner! Please no one liners. if any of this interests you please interact with this!

like if you're interested and op will reach out

#oc rp #oc roleplay #ocxoc rp #original rp #fandomless rp #fandomless roleplay #1x1 rp #mxm rp #gay rp #dead dove

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bloogers-boogers · 11 months

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Kyle Brofloski/Eric Cartman (SP one-shot)

/Insanely obsessed/

Summary: Post covid special but Stan couldn't fix the timeline and Kyle is deranged.

Slight Warning ⚠️ has sensitive topics I do not reccomend reading if you're aren't able to handle that sorta thing!(blood, injuries,violence, games, cheating, probably stockholm syndrome,etc.)(no, theres no r*pe! Just 'typical' comedic kidnapping like with Scott Tenorman or the hand slaughter murderer, ginger cult or the the big foot hunters) Please spare yourself the uncomfortable read.

Author's note: First time writing this type of stuff involving fucked up scenarios but I tried. Pls tell me if it's deranged enough hehe if you're wondering where this came from is from a previous post I written here

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humming was all the redhead man did while sharpening his trustful knife, looking his way to the dark corner of the room he's in.

A smile crept his face, looking fondly at the weapon, "you know? I used to be kinda fascinated by knives when I was a kid.. sharp things to be in fact," he blurted out loud casually, turning his way facing a tied up man who muffled lightly in protest to be let go, growing tirelessly aswell by his previous fail attempts.

His brunette now greasy and tangled hair covering most of his face. His body all tied up in chains around a wooded plank unable to move just his head and feet.

"Do you remember the metrosexual trend? Haha! I remember having team up with Mr Garrison, having ofcourse my beloved knife with me," he beamed holding on to the knife with excitement and a hint of nostalgia, looking at the man who looked straight at the ground not bothering to pay him mind, "are you hungry? Is that it, fatso?" He mustered a little bitter by the lack of attention he's receiving.

"I'll be right back," he commented not expecting a reply back, heading upstairs.

He had dragged that fatass to a cabin inside the woods it was a one ground floor but it had a basement that worked as a food compartment, it was pretty average size, but it was perfect nonetheless. There was only a small window in it but he covered it with a blind just at night, he wasn't that cruel.

Coming back with some chips in hand, jumping each stairs with delight, "I swear~ by the moon and the stars in the sky~" he sang placing the chips in a chair as he crotch infront of the man getting to his level.

The brunette man being none other then Eric Cartman: former archrival. Now married man, respectful rabbi and father of three children.

Cartman glared at him with reddened puffy eyes and some dark huge circles under them.

"Got some chessy poofs for you, fatass. They're your favorite aren't they? I believe I remember they were," he said, acting as he was trying to recall the fact. But was deeply aware of everything Cartman liked and disliked.

He tried feeding him some, like a tourist trying to feed peanuts to an elephant. But removed his hand quickly as Cartman had tried to bite him the moment he untied the rag off his mouth.

"Uh-uh uh, bad Cartman bad!" He smacked his head receiving a hiss in pain from his part.

Cartman still remained silent as he glaringly watch every move he did, he was enjoying the attention he was now giving him.

To summarize it all leading to this moment, it was after being revealed to him their future could've turn out different, having reuniting with old friends, having to attend one of his best friends funeral and then realizing his arch rival, the most piece of shit person he's ever met was living a happy married life while he lived miserable and lonely.

It was fucking unfair.

He slapped Cartman's cheeks with each single thought his way, making them swollen and bruised, standing up as he grabbed a bowl and shove all the cheesy poofs inside.

"You'll get hungry eventually," stating that, he place the bowl below Cartman's reach, still mouth unfolded. Still not spitting a single word his way.

"¡Why Kahal! You dumb jinger jersey jew! How could you! You forgot to add me some kfc chicken on the side," he mimicked Cartman's childish whiney voice, "but I shouldn't be surprised, a person with the three 'j''s' have ever done anything right in there lives."

"Shut up, Cartman! I can't drive back town whenever your fatass feels like it!"

"But kahaaaal! I want some kfc!"

He glance at Cartman but he showed no real intention on snapping back, he 'tsk' pacing back and forth throwing his knife straight to the board he had previously place in the wall hitting a photo of Cartman and his family in a fit of rage. Losing all his patience.

It hit directly at the fatass face already covered by previous holes.

He smirked having cause the real man in question flinch by the noise. Grabbing his knife once more and approaching him, crouching back to his level and holding the knife against his neck.

"Say something, asshole." He warned coldly, "I didn't go all the way to New York for you, just so your ass to ignore me like I'm some crazy lunatic."

"I– I want to go home..I won't tell a soul I promise.." he pleaded almost in a whisper, but that made him dig his knife even further against his skin making him gulp by the sharp knife against his adams apple, "o-oh, Kyle.. uh– I.. think, I am just a little hungry. That's all," Finally admitting out loud as sweat fell like rivers down his face, chuckling nervously.

He smiled, grabbing the bowl next to him, hand feeding the cheesy poofs like feeding some stray animal.

Caressing with his now cheesy thumb against Cartman's bruised cheek smearing the cheese all over him as he trembled under his touch, "atta boy, that's more like it."

Sometimes he forgot how much Cartman's voice had changed since children, it wasn't unpleasant but he rarely got to hear it nowadays only remembering briefly the times we're it was mostly noticeable for the hint of sarcasm and false innocence.

Now..

It was more mature and it was calmer, he liked it.

He already had in mind how to put in good use of that voice of his.

Once Cartman finished the entire bowl, he stood up walking to a near desk, placing all the chip bags to the side and grabbing his chair.

Seating down, he opened a drawer and grabbed a polaroid camera, sliding his rolling chair with fun next to Cartman and grinning widely as he snapped a picture of the two.

Now shaking the picture frantically for the color to appear and the two silhouettes fill the blank polaroid.

"Look at us, we look good. Well, atleast I do," he stated, eying the brunette as he rested his left elbow on his shoulder and gripping his cheeks with his free hand forcibly making him look at the picture.

He nodded fanatically as he was reviewing it internally, agreeing to everything he said.

The night had finally arise, and he stood up from his desk having worked piles of school paperwork, ofcourse he had to keep up with work now having to maintain two.

He stretched his arms going upstairs and grabbing a bucket, sponge and soap.

"Bath time, fatass!" He exclaimed, almost running back downstairs, jumping the last stair. Placing the bucket infront of the chubby man as he grabbed the hose that was slid from the outside of the window through inside.

Filling up the bucket with water, now setting a small bucket at the side and filling it up with water, adding soap while soaking the sponge in.

He carefully slid Cartman's plain white button shirt off, brushing his skin lightly with his fingertips.

Grabbing the sponge squeezing some of the soaked water off rubbing it against his chest, tapping and smudging it all over, trying to rub all the dirt and sweat off. Then his back, armpits, his sides, waist and lastly legs, crotch and ass. He wasn't too comfortable washing Cartman's ass at first but after the first couple of weeks together, he just saw his body in the ways a nurse would see their patient while bathing them.

Though, he must admit. With time, he's visualize Cartman's body as something very beautiful. It was kinda in like a artistic viewing way.

Admiring it; every curve and softness while he scrubbed every inch of his body, it'd be a pity if he were to lose weight and lose that scrumptious figure of his.

He sighed tirelessly resting his head against Cartman's bare back hearing his beating heart and light panting.

He fixed Cartman up, clothes right back on as he grabbed his bag.

It was time to go back home.

"I'll come back tomorrow," he waved goodbye as he left the cabin heading back to South Park.

Tapping his fingers against the wheel as a song resonated in the radio.

His phone rang, placing it in the cup holder as he answered.

"What up?" He spoke.

"Kyle, did you hear what happened?" Stan asked almost dreadful. He kinda guessed what could it possibly be about.

"What happened?" He fake a shock tone, lowering the volume of his radio.

"It's, Cartman, dude. He's gone missing. His wife contact me today asking if I knew anything about his whereabouts, his family is very worried right now."

"No way dude, since when?"

"She says it's almost been a month already, like.. what could've happened to Cartman?"

"Maybe he just bailed off? You know how much of an asshole he is, Stan. Wouldn't be surprised if he ran off to make a new careless free life."

"Kyle, I think this is serious. I don't think Cartman is that much an asshole, he's seemed change when we last saw him."

"Not my problem, Stan," he admitted, humming lightly as he turned a street.

"Kyle, I know you don't believe in Cartman changing. But he was still our friend–"

"No, Stan. We weren't friends, he made my life miserable when we were kids. Mocking and taunting me all the damn time."

"C'mon, man. Don't take offense to this, but you use to share your fair share yourself, you mocked Cartman because he was fat as fuck, and you still do even if Cartman has shown to you he's grown."

"Cartman was fucking with me, he did that on purpose to get rise outta me."

"You can't act like there weren't times you and Cartman shared actual good moments together."

"No, not even one good memory I can pin point, Stan."

"Oh god, Jesus christ Kyle. What about the time– uh.. well there was this once– Kyle you can be so damn difficult sometimes!"

It didn't surprise him how Stan found complicated to recall any good moments between him and Cartman gone through. Stan can be quite oblivious to most things, lacking attention, even though, it makes sense he wouldn't grasp anything about them when they kept their personal and intimate moments very hidden in the back of their mind far from others to reach.

"Stan it's not my fault that you're now finding some sense of purpose by trying to look for our missing 'friend' just cause your life is miserable and hallow."

"Your life will be forever empty and hallow without Cartman around!"

"What's that supposed to mean!? He literally lives in New York," he slammed the wheel, finally parking in his driveway, "and I'm perfectly fine without him, living here in South park."

There was a long pause before Stan spoke again.

"Kenny would've tried looking for him.." he mustered as ruffling noise were heard through the line.

He sighed, defeated. Low blow to use Kenny against him.

"Fine, but I'll search through the web I can't just be leaving work when I please y'know."

"Fine. I'll be heading to New York in a couple of days and gather up more clues, I'll text you when I find something."

And with that he hanged up, he rolled his eyes as he entered his dark almost unoccupied place.

Doing his nocturnal routine before going to bed. Stan's words had hit him hard, empty and hallow..

He looked at his ceiling thinking about Cartman, and what could he possibly bring him for lunch tomorrow. He wonder if he was trying to attempt on getting out this very instance while he was away, which is most likely but he was sure of the security he's put and being very certainly it'll be 'Cartman proof'.

<<<< —————>>>>

"Hey, fatass. Missed me?" He greeted placing a bag in his desk, now approaching the man who had seemingly pissed himself.

"Guess, I'll be very busy than usual these days. Apparently Stan found it being a great idea to go look for you," he explained circling around his chair, finally stopping and resting his hands on it, eyes narrowing Cartman's.

As his eyes lit up somewhat hopeful.

"Before you get your panties in a twist he won't be looking for you here. He's going to New York," he smugly stated as he savored Cartman's saddened expression; losing hope once more.

"Anyways, why not we play a game today?" He asked, bringing out a small roulette with already written games on.

Cartman denied frantically as he squinted his eyes almost screaming but the noise reduced into a loud muffle because of the rag in his mouth.

"And a one and a two–" he began, now turning viciously the roulette letting go as he waited for the lucky choice.

"Ding ding ding!" He exclaimed clapping his hands not too enthusiastic, as the roulette had stopped in number 7.

"Guess marbles eating it is!" He grabbed under his desk a box, looking through his shit until he found the marbles.

He kneel down, as he puckered Cartman's mouth gripping it hard with a free hand, now taking off the rag.

"N-ngh!" He winced out trying to avoid being force to eat a small tiny marble.

"Eat it, or I'll shove you the big one!" He warned with a narrow, making Cartman reluctantly obey; swallowing a red marble out from his hand, his lips brushing against it.

He shoved a couple of more in his mouth finally feeling pleased once Cartman swallow them all at whole.

"Good boy," he said, now bringing the bag he had brought with him.

Sitting infront of him as he crossed his legs, taking out some kfc chicken, potatoes, gravey and biscuits.

He munched on a chicken leg not taking off his gaze from Cartman's glaring stare. He winked at him teasingly as he continued to eat infront of him not sparing a piece at the fatass.

His eyes glued at the chicken and his mouth was basically dripping drool, the sound of his growling stomach echoed the walls.

He smirked while looking at the pathetic display, gesturing his half eaten chicken at him, Cartman hesitated for a bit his facials soften in worry before reluctantly leaning forward and eating the most smallest piece from it.

He move it away and continued eating a few bites before placing it again infront of Cartman, gesturing once more for he to take a bite.

Cartman then ate another piece this time it was quite bigger than the first bite, but their was still some chicken left as he was attempting to not leave it in a fully naked bone probably worried if he'd do wrong if he did exactly that.

That fact that Cartman was being more mindful of what he'd think/want instead of himself spread him with pride.

A immense satisfaction his way by Cartman's submission and obedience.

He gently caressed Cartman's fiery hair, making him flinch by the sudden gesture. He placed what was left from the chicken leg for he to finish it.

He almost gobbled it down with rush, he hold in a snicker as he distracted himself playing with Cartman's hair, and grabbed another chicken leg feeding it to him while still curling his hair with his fingers and tugging it slightly before twirling it around, looping some strands.

It was so soft.

The day cease once more to its end, the difference now is that tomorrow would be his day off, so he figured why not stay the night?

He brought in a sleeping bag and some books, Cartman arched a brow confused as he layyed down next to him, sliding the book underneath him and opening the first chapter, signaling with his index finger what he wanted him to do.

He heard Cartman gulped hard as he cleared his throat poorly.

He hasn't heard Cartman speak at all since yesterday which was just him pleading to be let go. And it was actually driving him crazy.

So this would make a nice change in their new dynamic.

He tucked himself as he waited for Cartman to read him the book.

"Chapter one.." he spoke very so softly, he could've sworn he was whispering if it weren't for the small cracks and brief pauses in his voice feeling exhausted himself, "The city of beef wellington a cold place where people lived in a starving crisis as broadcasting news reported Gordon Ramsey had stolen and used most of the supposedly endless food supplies for a cooking standoff‐"

He closed his eyes as Cartman's voice soothe him like a lullaby.

<<<< —————>>>>

After a calming night, he tirelessly opened his eyes stretching his arms out from the sleeping bag, turning to his left looking at a sleeping Cartman. Drool fell from his mouth as his eyes were shut tight showing off those big eyelashes of his. The book still underneath while being open and left off on the page Cartman had last narrate for.

He tilted his head looking at Cartman's messy hair, it seemed curled..

He figure it could be because of how tangled it's been left for, so he went upstairs and grabbed a hairbrush, once back startling the man awake as he began brushing his hair unnoticed.

It wasn't as tangled as he expected it to be, and the more he untangle it the more wavy looking it looked.

"What's with your hair, fatass?" Sliding his fingers in his hair, feeling it's softness and curling texture.

Cartman moved his head lightly, tired eyes looked down as he was still drowsy.

"My hair..? What you mean..?" he mustered quietly almost with effort.

He brushed harshly trying to straighten it back but it still remained wavy, making Cartman flinched in pain by the careless brushing.

"It doesn't go to it's normal texture, what gives?"

"Ah.. I suppose it was inevitable.."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I actually have natural curly hair.. like you Kyle."

His eyebrows raised in surprise, now leaving the brush on the floor, "what?" He asked incredulous.

"I just straightened and gel it down all the time when we were kids.. for me.. it was embarrassing, and my mom use to not like it that way either so since preschool she'd straightened it down all the time.. my hair kinda just got use to it by now so it's kinda waved down quite a notch.. and now with out caring for it, it's probably just getting back to it's nature curls I suppose.."

He looked at him attentively, contemplating the new revelation he's been told.

No fucking way.

"You use to always taunt me for my curly hair!"

"And I'm sorry.."

"Don't fucking apologize!" He punched him in the stomach out of pure rage, causing a 'hmph!' from Cartman, feeling the cold metallic chains against his skin. Leaving a red stingy mark in his knuckles as he stood up.

He stormed off outside, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his car, slamming the door shut now leaning his back against it. Lightening up a cigarette before inhaling the nicotine substance, glaringly looking at the trees surrounding the cabin.

Contemplating murder, feeling betrayed and lied to all his damn life. Over some damn stupid hair.

Stepping on his cigarette, he opened his truck taking out a bat and slamming it right back shut. Heading inside and going downstairs looking at a now trembling brunette, who looked at him scared.

As he should, cause what he's about to do won't be the slightest pretty.

He slammed the wooden bat in his stomach, each hit with more forceful rage. Causing Cartman to whined in pain and whimper screaming apologetic pleads, blood coming out from his mouth, tear falling down his glossy eyes wanting for it to stop.

But he didn't bare listen or care, grabbing his so curly hair with a hank making Cartman yelp. He grabbed his knife from his pocket slicing some of his hair off before letting go and heading to his drawer. Still not finish as he hold on to some scissors.

"Snip snip," he mustered loud enough for the man to hear, menacingly opening and closing his scissors now walking and standing infront of Cartman.

With his index finger he raised Cartman's chin making him look at him with those teary puffy eyes.

He placed their forehead together feeling their heated panting mix together and breathing regulate.

He back away now snipping some of his hair off as it all fell to the floor he grabbed a small batch and place it in his drawer for forward sticking it in his journal. But for now his focus was still maintain on his rival.

His beautiful half long hair chopped off and spread carelessly on the floor, and the man in question whimpered quietly sniffing lightly as snot slid down to his mouth.

Humming as he took a small razor out from his bag, he'd normally use it for shaving some of the edges of his beard but he figured this wouldn't be entirely different.

After minutes of shaving every corner of Cartman's head, he finished gracefully. Leaving a shiny scalp on him.

He yawned as the day was starting to end.

Settling his stuff aside as he swept those loose strands of hair away, cleaning it all up while Cartman had doze off through that period. He kicked him, causing him to snap back up with a small 'owe..'

He didn't bother on feeding him as some sorta punishment for lying. Liars can't be forgiven so lightly, so he thought.

He left back home, pretty early than usual, he was even waved a hello from a neighbor he rarely even interacted with.

He layyed back on his empty bed, and reassured his guilty conscience his reasons were all justified and he'll make it up by tomorrow bringing something Cartman would love; maybe a chocolate cake or some two patty burgers.

Once back, he was in a more cheerful mood, after dropping off at some new opening burger joint he knew Cartman would like, he had bought some burgers and fries, with and additional soda beverages. He also didn't forget dessert buying one of those cheese cakes with chocolate on top decorated with two strawberries.

He walked down stairs, noticing he had forgotten to close the curtain the previous night as the sunlight hit the window straight to Cartman's face as he winced a eye shut by the beaming light, it all left an ethereal look.

Cartman's now fully grown hair as if an episode had previously set into credits creating a new set of events to occur, was already the first thing that stood out to him, his curls bounce to the side as he moved his head in a tired manner. It shined beautifully with the light hitting against it. The chocolaty brown made his hair look so heavenly he felt quite envious but also quite merciful for being able to witness it at it's full glory.

"Wow," he mustered out, carefully placing his bags on the floor.

He stood next to Cartman, crouching down to his level ruffling playfully those curly brown locks of his.

"I doubt we would've made fun of you for this, fatass," he gestured lightly with a tugging on his hair.

Cartman said nothing dismissively avoiding his eyes. It was obvious he was pissed at him for the previous night.

He sighed defeated, "I know, I know. But your hair is back so get over it will yah?" He stated before reaching his arm out to one of his bags and dragged it towards him, "I got you something that'll cheer you up."

Taking out a burger and unwrapping it, gesturing him to take a bite but he refused in a stubbornly manner.

#south park #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #kyman #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #sp one-shot #i had this in my drafts for like a month i suppose? idk i feel like i won't be finishing it any soon so i might aswell post it #don't hate me for this u guys 😅😅#however i may write another part if I feel like i want to write Cartman developing stockholm

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