#Anyone and everyone is allowed to make their own fic and use it as a creative way of saying hi to everyone or establishing yourself

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Language Barriers

same anon as like 5 minutes ago, I remembered the fluffy prompt! Could you write a Sanders Sides DLAMPR fic (before they get together) where all of the Sides have different love languages? And they’re all trying to flirt in their own way, but the others keep misinterpreting it? A lot of TSS fic features the Sides having different love languages (and I’d like to think they do, in canon), but I’ve yet to see a fic that specifically focuses on that fact and describes the differences between love languages. Feel free to ignore, and remember to take care of yourself! – anon

hey I love love love love LOVE your writing! If you’re open to prompts rn, I’ve just reread your story "Idiots, Idiots, Everywhere" and it’s awesome, thanks very much, BUT. Are you willing to write a Sanders Sides fic where it focuses more specifically on all the Sides having different love languages? Bonus points if it’s DLAMPR (but platonic PR, this is an incest-free household) and all the Sides are like “…but he’s like this with everyone”. No pressure at ALL, but it’d be cool to see how you approach that. – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 3431

Or, five times the Sides misunderstood each other's love languages, and one time Thomas got fed up with it and decided to just...explain it to them with the efficiency they have when they're trying to explain something to him. Which is to say: it takes them a second to get it. The Imagination helps.

Physical Touch

If you were to ask anyone, they would tell you that Patton loves giving people hugs.

It’s the bane of some of their existences, they’d try to claim, and the others might just shrug and say that’s Patton for you. He knows his kiddos love it, at least a little bit. But he won’t lie, he does love a good hug. There’s just something so magical about how, out of all the shapes humans could have possibly been, they’re just perfectly designed to hold one another. Isn’t that just perfect?

Logan would probably say something about evolution and adaptation to the needs of their environment, or something, but he’s not gonna rain on Patton’s parade. Humans are hug-shaped, so they’re gonna hug. Besides, he’s not complaining when he’s working downstairs in the winter and he’s gotten too absorbed in his work and then a Patton-shaped heating pad just comes along and hugs him.

Patton loves hugging all of the Sides. Logan because he’s always so surprised by it, in a good way! He gets this soft little look that is almost on the edge of a smile, like he wasn’t expecting it but it’s the best possible outcome he never could have predicted. Or when he’s trying to comfort Patton and he hugs with undeniable certainty.

Virgil is also fun to hug, because he’s such a pouty-face about it. He snuggles up as much as any of them but he has to put on his mopey show first, just in case anyone’s watching. Virgil also gives the mopey hugs too, but then he makes himself just a bit bigger so he can wrap all the way around Patton. Which is the best.

Speaking of wrapping all the way around, Janus has six arms and he uses every single one of them. They get into competitions sometimes—not serious! It’s all for fun!—about who can surprise-hug each other the worst. Or best. Janus is currently winning from the time he managed to make himself look like the chair in the living room with a blanket over it; Patton sat down and boo!

Remus isn’t allowed to do surprise hugs, not after he accidentally tackled Patton into his Kraken’s pond and they had to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of the pond. But Remus’s hugs are the kind that squish his soul right back into his body and ugh, there’s nothing better than that after a long day. Besides, it’s not like expecting Remus’s hugs takes anything away, he’s still going to squeeze him so hard he might not be able to breathe for a few seconds, but that’s Remus!

And then with Roman—Roman hugs the way every single knight from a fairytale should hug. He just makes you feel safe and precious and like nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s why Patton always sits next to Roman during scary movie nights, after all, even if he gets teased about it a little. Roman doesn’t mind.

So yes, Patton does love hugging all of them. But it doesn’t have to be hugging! It can be holding hands, or just leaning against each other, just as long as he can feel them and tell himself yes, they’re okay, they’re right here, I love them.

Because he does. He loves them terribly. Even if they think he’s just a big fan of hugs.

***

2. Quality Time

Virgil has the reputation of being the cat of the Mindscape for good reason. Not because he hisses at things that don’t cooperate—the other Sides are not excluded from this—and not because he spits up hairballs—it was one time, Remus, and it was entirely your fault—but because he has a habit of just appearing in the same room and hanging out for a while.

…alright, it’s not a habit, he does it on purpose.

Companionable silence really is the best way to go about things. You’re both close enough to talk if you want to, but each of them is allowed to do their own thing and hey, there’s another person doing their own thing too. Which is why it’s his favorite way of hanging out with Logan, especially when he needs to make sure that something gets done. He’s always down to affectionately bully Logan into whatever he asks him to make sure he does.

He does that with Remus too, but it’s not exactly the same: Remus needs someone to make sure he doesn’t actually destroy anything, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Especially since he likes to get a bit of a heads-up before a rampaging beast goes barreling through the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning.

If he’s never beating the cat allegations, Janus sure as hell isn’t helping. There’s a big window in the Dark Sides’ half of the Mindscape that is perfect for lying in for, oh, a few hours on end. Remus has many—too many, if you ask Virgil—pictures of the two of them just basking in the sun, dozing like they haven’t got a care in the world.

Virgil’s actual favorite place to sleep is with his head in Patton’s lap. Especially after he’s just finished baking, when he’s all warm from the oven and he smells like sugar and spice…Virgil will sit on the counter or the floor and listen to Patton talk about whatever he wants and then while the oven bakes, he’ll fall asleep right in Patton’s lap. He even gets first dibs on whatever just got made.

Roman makes a game of it. He’s the Prince, every good Prince needs a rogue to work with. They trek all over the Imagination, having adventures, defeating monsters, it’s the perfect mix of Roman’s quests and Virgil’s need to be a creepy little shit in every dark corner he can find. Being with Roman even makes boring council meetings fun, because he gets to terrify the idiots that they’re just gonna fight later anyway and he gets to spend time with Roman.

He doesn’t care what he’s doing, not really, just as long as he can spend time with them. He just…wishes they would understand that sometimes.

***

3. Words of Affirmation

Logan is no stranger to impostor syndrome, but that doesn’t mean he has to allow it to plague those he cares for. Understanding something to be true on an intellectual level and feeling the validation that comes from hearing someone else voice it are two very different things. The other Sides are each remarkable in their own right. They deserve to hear it.

Patton is kind. He does not say that lightly: kind people who choose to be kind because they know how difficult it is are not individuals to be trifled with. Patton makes the conscious choice to try and be better every single day. He is earnest and sincere, sometimes painfully so, but he does not allow himself to be dissuaded by obstacles. How could Logan not want to express his admiration?

And Roman…oh, Roman is a wonder. There is so much that goes into his work that often goes unnoticed, or underappreciated, and it is a crime that Logan too often finds himself on the wrong side of that line. Roman is clever and funny and has a work ethic that, truly, rivals Logan’s own. For every slight he makes, however unintentional, he tries his best to make up for it by telling Roman in no uncertain terms how honored Logan is to be part of his creative process.

Remus is an entirely different story, no pun intended. Remus is unabashedly and unapologetically himself, and as such is a marvel to behold. He cares not for the sanitization or reduction of anything in his work, and so Logan does his best to follow suit. Remus is who he is, and it is beautiful.

He tells Janus he’s beautiful too. And not once is he lying. The first time he did it, Janus laughed in his face, at least until he realized Logan was telling the truth. He then didn’t see Janus for an entire week. It ended when a little snake plushie appeared outside of his door in the middle of the night with a tiny note that just said thank you. He tells Janus he’s beautiful every chance he gets now.

Virgil is his little alley cat. Perfectly fine to approach on his terms, but will let him know with no uncertainties when he’s getting a little too close. It doesn’t help that Virgil is quite fun to tease, even if all he’s doing is giving him compliments—true compliments, mind you—and watching in amusement as Virgil curls up into a ball with his hood pulled down over his ears as if that could hide how red they are. He’s not cruel about it, of course; he stops the moment Virgil appears genuinely uncomfortable and there are certain topics he doesn’t go near. But Virgil can’t always hide his little grin and so on it goes.

He’s quite happy to shower them with his words, he just…doesn’t know if they’d believe him if he said I love you.

***

4. Acts of Service

Words are difficult. There is so much ambiguity to be found in even the most basic of sentences, and when it comes to matters like this, Janus prefers to take as few chances as possible. Whoever coined the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ Janus definitely owes a drink for how spot-on it is.

Whenever Patton needs a hand in the kitchen, he’s always the first to volunteer. He can do up to three things in the time it would take another Side to do just one, after all, and he’s had enough experience cooking for the troublemakers (Virgil and Remus) to know how to get around most of their pranks. And how to get them back.

Logan, bless him, has a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times. And in doing so, he gets these terrible knots and cramps in his neck and shoulders from hunching over his desk for hours on end. It might not be the most polite of things to practically blackmail his way into giving Logan a massage, but the poor dear always falls right to sleep so he mustn’t mind too much.

Remus and his delightful menagerie of creatures often need more than their fair share of attention. He had to pester Remus into getting him a raincoat and muck boots that could withstand the acidic slime, but weekend mornings found them strolling cheerfully through pens and cages and paddocks, tending to the bizarre flock. Anything to make the chore more of a fun activity and less of, well, a chore, when Remus really doesn’t suit stressed-out frowns as well as manic grins.

Virgil has a terrible habit of not asking for reassurance when he needs it. Janus regrets the part he played in making it that way. So, no matter how small and stupid Virgil may think it is, whenever he asks for help, Janus gives it. A tug on his cloak or a soft please will have him do anything from turn the light in the hallway on to checking the poor thing over for wounds after a brutal nightmare. It took long enough for Janus to re-earn that trust, he’s not going to lose it if he can damn well help it.

Out of everyone in the Mindscape, only Roman truly appreciates his love of theater. Sure, the others are game to help out here and there, but when it comes to the art of make-believe, Roman is the proud owner of Janus’s ‘yes-and’ partnership. The two of them make all sorts of stories together, from villains and heroes to morally grey adventurers, to simple fairytales and old plays. Roman needs someone else to help him play the roles and Janus is more than happy to play with him.

Perhaps one day, he might be able to reveal that everything he does for them, he does because it’s them, but for now, he’ll happily play the role they expect of him.

***

5. Gifts

Roman and Remus do not, in fact, fight over who gets to give the most presents to the other Sides.

Instead, they fight over whose idea they work on first.

For Logan, Remus’s self-writing pen narrowly won out over Roman’s proposal for a never-ending notebook, if only because said pen squirted ink into Roman’s mouth before he could finish his argument. They ended up giving both to Logan at the same time, but the pen was decidedly on top and did its own little celebratory wriggle when Logan used it for the first time.

Remus nearly challenged Roman to a formal duel when it came to designing a heat lamp for Janus that wouldn’t run the same risk of burning out the electricity in their section of the Mindscape. They managed to agree on everything up to the design on the lampshade. Roman said it should be a yellow snake, curled up and sleeping, and Remus wanted it to be a big leaf that Janus could lay under like he was actually outside. The compromise was eventually reached over many hours of almost bloodshed and now the sleeping snake under a leaf is a staple in the corner of Janus’s room.

Roman cleverly proposed Virgil’s weighted blanket while Remus was being crushed under said blanket, leaving not a lot of wiggle room until he had to agree. Of course, he promptly fell asleep and cuddled Roman into a pile of goo, so technically they made both the blanket and the plushie at around the same time. Virgil still brings the little skeleton to movie nights.

Patton gets their presents one after the other, because you need one to understand the other’s context. A rebreather designed to slip on over the person’s face just like any other face mask, to filter out particulates and allergens. Something that could be worn for up to two consecutive hours before it needed to be recharged.

The other present was a box full of kittens.

”Ro?”

“Yeah?”

Remus pushes his goggles to the top of his head and looks over the desk. “Do you think they’ll ever get it?”

Roman sighs, closing his notebook and leaning back to stretch. “I don’t know, Re. I love them, really, they just…”

”Don’t realize.”

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ll get there eventually.”

“Of course we will. Hand me that wrench, would you?”

“The one that’s covered in guts, or the one that’s made out of foam?”

“The foam one. I need to whack this thing but I don’t wanna hit it too hard.”

“I’m not gonna ask any more questions.”

***

+1: I Love You

”Hey!” Patton rises up first, clapping his hands. “Oh. I’m the only one here.”

“Only by a moment,” Logan says as he joins him. “Is Thomas here?”

“No, I just got summoned by—well, I thought it was Thomas but he’s not here.”

“Whoa, hey!” Virgil appears on the staircase. “What’s going on? I was in the middle of watching someone.”

“Don’t you mean ‘something?’” Remus appears, covered in slime and cackling. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve got it,” Roman says, rising up and spraying his brother with something that somehow manages to dissolve all the goo without staining or spraying anything else. “There. Now maybe you’ll think twice about surprising Uma when she’s feeding?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do this so many more times!”

”I felt the exasperation from my room,” Janus sighs, appearing, “what’s Remus done now?”

“Why did you assume it was Remus?” Janus just looks at Logan. “Fair enough.”

”Now that we’re all here, what is this about?” He looks around, frowning. “Where’s Thomas?”

“That’s weird, is he not the one who called for a meeting?”

“What’s that?” Virgil reaches out and picks up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “‘Each one of you needs a card, find the matches.’ What cards?”

“Here.” Logan picks up something that fell when Virgil picked up the paper. “There are only five of them, though, and six of us.”

“What do they say?”

“Let me see…one says ‘Physical Touch,’ one says ‘Acts of Service,’ one says…oh, I see.”

“I don’t,” Patton says, “can you share with the class?”

“Wait, wait, I think I know what this is, is one of them ‘Quality Company’ or something?”

“‘Quality Time,’ yes.”

Roman nods. “It’s the Five Love Languages.”

“Thomas doesn’t even speak Spanish!”

“No, no, Padre, not literal languages, it’s…it’s the ways you express your affection for someone. How you tell them you love them. There’s five: physical touch, acts of service, quality time…”

“‘Words of Affirmation,’” Logan continues, reading off the other cards, “and ‘Gifts.’”

Virgil hunches his shoulders. “So what, are we supposed to pick one?”

“I believe the intention of the exercise is to…select which one is our love language.”

Janus huffs. “Why? What does Thomas have to gain from doing something like this? And where is he?”

“Maybe he’s not the one who summoned us.”

“Well then who did?”

“Maybe if we do the thing we can find out.”

Janus sighs, peering over Logan’s shoulder and squinting. “I guess this one’s mine, then.”

“‘Acts of Service?’ Very well. I suppose I’ll take ‘Words of Affirmation.’”

“Can I have the touch one?”

“Certainly.”

“Twins get ‘Gifts,’ obviously,” Virgil mutters, “which means I get the…time one, or whatever.”

Logan hands out the last two cards and they stand there for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does.

Patton looks back down at his card. “Wait, did you say these are how we tell people we love them?”

“That is a simple definition of this, why?”

“Because you guys do these with everyone!”

There’s a pause. Logan adjusts his glasses. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but…yes, I do indeed give you all words of affirmation, because, well…”

“Aww,” Virgil says, “do you love us, Logan?”

Logan coughs, blushes, and adjusts his tie. “I believe that is a logical conclusion, yes.”

“Aww!” Patton squeals. “I love you guys too!”

”So whoever set this up knew that we were all trying to tell each other that—“ Roman starts.

“—and needed to hammer it into our heads what was happening,” Remus finishes.

“Well,” Janus sniffs, even as a smile threatens the corners of his mouth, “how dramatic.”

Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “Yeah. How dramatic.”

There’s another pause.

Roman coughs. “Uh, this seems like a good a time as any, um…Remus and I put together a festival thing in the Imagination for everyone, if you want to…if you want to come and see it.”

“It has everyone’s favorite state fair stuff,” Remus sands, “and there’s supposed to be a northern-lights kind of thing after it gets dark.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course.”

“Will there be food?”

“Your favorite, shadow-ling.”

“You two are so thoughtful,” Logan says softly, “I would love to come.”

“I can get the good blankets from the closet,” Janus offers, and everyone grins, “should we meet there in ten?”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

The Imagination is just happy they finally sorted it out. Now, to give the six of them a group date they’ll never forget…

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #virgil sanders

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

#ao3 #using ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanworks

[swiftispunk]

another time, baby | joel miller x f!reader

a your summer dream bonus chapter

your summer dream masterlist | main masterlist | kofi | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates

pairing: dad's buddy!joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 3.4k summary: joel makes good on a promise. warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] established relationship, porn no plot, smut, age gap (28/50), unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, use of a butt plug, joel miller eats ass and pussy and also has a big dick, some affectionate spanking, creampie, cum play (eating and sharing), a little bit of spit, just a lot of bodily fluids all around, one (1) poetic description of a queef, joel miller's filthy mouth, pet names, ysd!joel at his most soft dom, joel's also kind of feral in this, multiple orgasms, sweet sweet aftercare, pov swap. no use of y/n.

a/n: you can all thank @gasolinerainbowpuddles for this one ya'll. but in all seriousness, your summer dream was my favourite part of this year. so what better way to send it off than with a horny little one shot for my favourite little freaks? and for anyone who hasn't read the series, i am stoked to tell you that you can absolutely enjoy this fic as a standalone. for those of you who have the read series, this takes place between the fall and winter seasons and you may find one teeny tiny little plot nugget in here which i hope you will appreciate. happy new year everyone!

"Oh, fuck, that's pretty."

His voice a low rasp, all hushed and adoring, he may as well be talking to himself at this point. You are somewhere far away. A pliant, whining, perfect thing slung over his lap, your soft skin glistens with lube around the transparent plug in your ass. Seeing you like this, Joel allows himself to think the worst–that you're his and no one else's, that only he can make you like this, only he gets to know this part of you. 

"Please, Joel, please," you'd cried when his tongue had dipped from your pussy to your other hole earlier this week. Your fingers clawing at fistfuls of his hair, he'd known by the desperate edge in your voice, the patience there waning, you were finally going to ask.

"What, baby? What do you want?"

You'd seized and moaned and shaken your head, afraid to say it, confess it.

Till he'd slipped one thick finger into your asshole, taunting you with a plea of his own as he'd slowly fucked you with it: "Tell me. Tell me, baby. Say it. Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck my ass, Joel! Please–"

And as his lips had closed around your clit with his finger still buried in your ass, you'd come apart for him with blinding force. Joel, for his part, had spilled onto the sheets beneath him and in the haze of the afterglow, he'd kissed your inner thighs and made a solemn vow. 

That he'll give you what you need–but he's gonna do it right.

Now you've stopped begging, reduced to little more than breathless whimpers under his touch while you let him ready you.

He cages your naked body under his, fingers spread wide over the globe of your ass, pinching and grabbing and slapping at the plush flesh there. Your poor, dripping cunt flutters around nothing and Joel can't help himself–he's a weak man; he takes pity on you.

"Feelin' empty, baby?" he muses, slipping a hand between your thighs to caress your folds, soaking with lube and your last release. He gazes down at you in wonder when you twitch violently at the contact, your ass jiggling around the end of the plug.

He's so goddamn lucky.

You make some muffled sound against the mattress and Joel's other hand comes down on your ass cheek in response. His lips twitch, chest and cock swelling with something like pride when you recognize it for the reminder it is, immediately pulling your face up off the sheets to answer him properly.

"Mm-mm," you croak and Joel can tell you're struggling to get the words out, your loose form spasming across his thighs whenever his fingers brush over your sensitive clit. "Feel so–full, Joel."

"Yeah?" he murmurs gruffly, still lazily petting your sex. "You like havin' your ass all stuffed, sweetheart? This what you wanted?"

"Want–more, Joel. Please fuck me."

But there's no strength behind the words, no genuine intention behind the plea because you know; this had been the deal. He'll give you this–and god, does he want to give you this–but he's not going to rush it and he's not going to hurt you. He's well aware of his size and he's well aware of your less-than-savoury experiences with men before him and he will not subject you to that. He'll spend all night prepping you if that's what it takes. 

Plus, he's having fun.

"Gonna feel a lot more full with my cock inside ya, baby," he hums, sinking his thumb into your wet heat, reveling in the way you push back into him with a breathy little moan. "You think you can take it?"

Your answer gets caught in your throat as he begins to fuck his thumb in and out of your weeping pussy, his fingers circling over your clit, buried between the soft meat of your thighs.

His lip curls in concentration, ravenous at the soft squelching sounds of your cunt and the choked, little whimpers spilling from your open mouth. Just one more time, he thinks–he just wants to watch you come one more time.

"Look at you, huh?" he marvels as he switches gears, using one large palm to spread you open and push his middle and ring fingers into your cunt instead, curling and scissoring them inside you till he swears he can feel the plug taking up your ass. "Look at you with both your little holes all full for me. Bet you could take two cocks f'you wanted. Ain't that right, babygirl?"

Something about that thought makes you gasp, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your g-spot before you're coming again, a small gush of liquid pouring down his knuckles as you pulse around him with a broken cry. 

"Oh, fuck, yeah," Joel hisses through his teeth as the waves of wash over you, awestruck and mesmerized at the way you shudder and squirm in his lap. You're all his. It's all for him. You fall apart like this for him. "There's my good girl."

You go limp when it ends, a delicious noise of gaping emptiness escaping your pussy when he slowly retracts his fingers. He sucks them clean, sighing at the taste of you, and decides he's done enough.

"C'mere," he growls softly, manhandling you carefully off his lap and collecting your knees beneath you. You go like a ragdoll, folding in on yourself with your ass in the air for him, chest pressed into your thighs. He crouches beside you, trailing a hand up your spine to rest it at the nape of your neck, massaging the other over the rounded peaks of your ass.

"You ready, sweetheart?" he whispers, tracing his fingers around the edges of the plug. "Gonna take this out now."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper into the sheets, your voice all cracked and oozing anticipation. Your ribs expand and contract with each ragged breath you take and even Joel isn't sure he can wait much longer. 

He leans over your body, sinks his teeth into the meat of your ass, buries his nose into your skin and makes himself at home there. He stakes his claim with little indents into your flesh and yearns to mark you elsewhere–everywhere.

"Let me hear you say it," he insists. 

"I'm ready, Joel. Please."

He shifts to hover over you, cradling your body under one arm while he curls his fingers around the end of the plug.

"Relax for me now," he murmurs and even though you're already gooey and gone, you find a way to obey him. Your muscles slacken and you melt impossibly deeper into the mattress, waiting. 

"Good girl," he tells you and he's never meant it more than he does right now.

With patient care, he slips the plug past that tight ring of muscle, watching you stretch around the thickest part of the toy, groaning with you when he pushes it back inside. He repeats that motion, mesmerized at the slide of the plug moving in and out of the constricting fist of your asshole. You take it so fucking well. You're gonna take his cock so fucking well. 

It's all he can think about as he finally pulls the plug out of you entirely, cursing under his breath when your hole stays open for him, stretched out and lax, still so enticingly tight. He tosses it aside, hungry eyes fixed on your opening, locked in on it like a missile acquiring its target.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, feeling slightly crazed as he crowds the space behind you, hastily searching for the bottle of lube, abandoned somewhere on the mattress. He coats his length in it, stroking himself with one hand while the other spreads you open, one thick finger dipping into the inviting warmth of your asshole. "You gonna let me fuck you here, baby? This where you want me?"

"Yes," you whine and Joel's cock twitches in his grasp as you start to fuck yourself on his finger in shallow little thrusts, as if to prove your point. Fucking hell. He's never seen you so needy as long as he's known you and it stirs something carnal in him. 

"Alright, baby, okay," he hums, sliding his finger free from your hole to grip your side and still your movements. His cock is slippery and your skin is shiny with excess lube but he wants to be sure, overly thorough. He rakes his fingers through the seam of your cunt, collecting come and lube and slick, and coats your other hole in it. And just because he wants to see it, he lets a string of his of spit fall there too, rubbing his own fluids in with yours, over the sacred place he's about to fuck you. 

He thinks you look fucking perfect together. He thinks he might be in love with you.

He presses closer, notching the tip of his cock at your entrance. You reach back to grip the wrist of the hand he's got glued to your side and Joel's heart pangs. He can't tell if the way you squeeze his arm is a sign of nerves or eagerness or the same painful desperation he feels to be as attached to you as possible in every conceivable way. Frankly, he's too delirious with desire to even ask, just gives you what he thinks you always need, what he thinks he's best at giving you–

"You're okay, baby," he assures you. "Just relax, I got you. M'gonna make it feel good, okay? Gonna make it feel so fuckin' good for you."

-

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, a high-pitched moan pouring from your lips as you nod against the sheets.

You trust him–of course you do. 

And you want this, want him to fill the deepest corners of your body, to take up every vacant space inside you and make you his, over and over in every which way. Joel's unwavering control seems to fade as he lines himself up with your hole, his breaths coming shorter and less even, sucked through his teeth like some voracious animal. Your pussy clenches in an unconscious way, like your body still hasn't realized that's not where he's going.

It quickly becomes clear. 

Because then he's pushing forward, the head of his cock slipping past your puckered rim and it's like he stops breathing altogether, the flow of air from his lungs choking off into a strangled moan. You echo that sound, twist your free hand into the sheets and whine at the intrusion, the stretch and strain almost dizzying. 

"Oh–fuck–shit," he's rambling, stilling where he is to let you adjust–though you're wondering now if such a thing is even possible. "Fuck me, that's so fuckin' tight."

You can feel your breathing shallow, hear the distant sound of your own voice leaving you in the form of weak and whimpered nothings. 

Joel takes a deep breath. 

"Talk to me," he grits out. "Tell me how it feels."

You rack your brain but you can't find the words. 

"You're so-you're so fucking big, Joel."

He growls, a sound buried low in his chest, deep and guttural. "Tell me how it feels," he repeats. 

"Fuck–good," you cry, and you think it's true. The stretch, the ache, the fullness, the elation that it's him finally giving you what he'd promised you so many months ago; yes, it feels good. It feels perfect. "More. Please. I can take more."

"Fuck, yeah, you can," Joel groans, sinking deeper, still at a sedulous pace, till you feel his hips meet your ass and he bottoms out completely.

"Shit," Joel marvels, pausing once again with his length buried to the hilt in your ass, voice thick with adoration. "Feel fuckin'–so perfect, baby. Fuck, you look so good like this. Takin' it so well."

He experimentally rocks his hips and you feel yourself stretch open for him, the way your body accepts his girth and makes such willing space for him. It's fucking…otherworldly how big he feels inside you, the pleasant aching sensation of fullness unlike anything you've ever felt before. Your uneven breaths harmonize with his, breaking off into a groan of appreciation when he finally pulls out halfway just to push back in.

He fucks you like that for what feels like hours; slow, patient drags of his cock in and out of your hole while his hands rake over your skin in appreciative sweeping patterns. His words from before echo in your pleasure-drunk mind–"Bet you could take two cocks f'you wanted"–and while you can't say you've ever thought about that, the suggestion festers and consumes, so much so that you reach a hand between your legs to slip three fingers into your pussy and imagine how it would feel if they were something else.

"Oh, yeah, honey?" Joel croons when he notices, the pace of his thrusts picking up. "That feel good? You wanna be all filled up, don't you?"

You whine in response, burying your fingers deeper, meeting his thrusts with a steady rock of your hips back into him.

"C'mere," he's suddenly saying again, carefully pulling his cock free from the tight clench of your ass. Then he's maneuvering you onto your back and placing your arms by the side of your head. He hooks his hands beneath your knees and hoists them up to your chest before settling back between your legs. He takes a moment there, gawking at your naked front and your gaping hole, watching your face as he presses his palm over your mound and strums his thumb over your clit. 

And, god, he looks wrecked–wild. You can't imagine what he's seeing reflected back at him in your eyes. 

Fuck, you already miss him inside you. 

"Joel," you press him, tilting your hips upwards a little higher in a silent plea. 

He grants it without question, maintaining the steady ministrations of his thumb on your clit as he once again lines himself up with your asshole.

"You perfect fuckin' thing," he murmurs, his mouth falling open as he pushes back inside, his eyes never leaving your face. "You love it, huh? Love this big cock in this tight little ass. Yeah?"

His voice strains around the words as he begins to move again, faster and harder than before. You nod at him frantically–tell him yesyesyes–then you forget how to speak altogether as he eases his thumb into your cunt and fucks you with it in tandem with the drag of his cock in your ass. 

"There you go," Joel hums. "My girl's all full of me now."

It's overwhelming, a mind-numbing sort of satiation that has your eyes rolling back into your skull as you dissolve into a mess of wanton moans and broken sobs. You're too far gone to even feel surprised when another climax crashes into you, wetness pooling around Joel's thumb and trickling down to the place your bodies are connected.

"Fuck, Joel, oh my god–"

Your voice shakes as you quiver under him, sparks of heat cascading down your spine. Joel's heady grunting is buried under your own cries of ecstasy and then you're conscious of his hands are on the backs of your thighs, holding you open as he begins to fuck you with abandon, chasing chasing chasing. 

"Eyes," you hear him growl urgently. "You look at me when I come in your ass, baby."

Your eyelids snap open at once–and the sight of him takes your breath away.

His brows are furrowed in concentration, hot breaths coming in heavy pants through his bared teeth. Sweat dampens his forehead and shines on his chest and shoulders, the expanse of skin there dotted with splotches of pink. His soft belly flexes and falls as he pounds into you and you don't think you've ever seen his brown eyes look so black. 

He's so fucking beautiful. He's all yours. 

"Come for me, Joel," you beseech him, reaching out to touch your hands to his chest. "Please. Please come in my ass."

It doesn't take much more than that, Joel's hips stuttering as he groans out a chorus of expletives and paints your insides with his release. He comes hard, his final thrusts almost bruising against your ass as he fucks his spend deeper, filling you to the brim. You can feel everything–the way his cock spasms inside you, the soft press of his balls against your sticky skin, the wet drag of his length slowly slipping out of you the minute you've both caught your breath.

You reach out to touch his face, but Joel is not looking at you. Joel is transfixed on your leaking asshole, crouching back to watch his come drip from you, his big hands on your thighs still spreading you wide for him. 

He looks…overcome–trancelike as he dives forward without a word to bury his face between your cheeks. You gasp as his tongue laps at your pulsing hole, collecting fat drops of escaping come and it occurs to you then what he's doing. Your hands fist into his curls and you yank him up to kiss you, his lips crashing into yours as hot, salty release pours from his open mouth into yours. 

You swallow it eagerly, moaning against his lips as his body weight comes down on top of you. You wrap your legs around his middle and for a good long while, you stay like that, letting your tongue lazily dance with his in a kiss that's all gratitude and quiet devotion. 

As the fog of orgasm fades, your lips come apart. Joel rolls onto his side and pulls you into his chest, pets your hair and presses soft kisses across your shoulders. 

"You alright, baby?" he asks, clutching the sides of your face in his gentle hands and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. The blackness there is gone, replaced by tender warmth. 

You think about it. You are alright. You're sleepy, though. Sleepy and sore. And fucking…messy. 

"I'm okay," you tell him, feeling the corners of your mouth turn up in a smile. Joel mirrors it, his thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones.

"Did so fuckin' good for me," he breathes. His forehead collides with yours as he exhales something that sounds like a laugh. "I mean, that–that was so goddamn hot."

"It was," you agree. "Thank you, Joel."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he amends, ducking forward to plant another fleeting kiss against your lips. "M'gonna get a shower goin', alright? Get you all cleaned up? How's'at sound?"

"Sounds good," you smile dreamily.

He looks like he wants to say something else, lingering there with his face just inches from yours, soft eyes scanning your features like he's searching for something. You think you know the words he's holding back–think you could say them too right now–but you don't, and neither does he. Instead, he sighs and kisses your forehead, finally rising up out of bed to stride towards the ensuite. You let your eyes slip shut at the sound of running water, imagining it's a falling stream in a lush, tropical forest. You sigh.

It strikes you, in moments like these, how in the hell you ended up here. In Joel Miller's bed with his come leaking out of your ass, your heart so full it feels like it could burst right out of your chest without warning. 

You think maybe it should scare you, but it doesn't anymore. Because then Joel is sauntering back into the room and extending a solid arm out to you, hoisting you upright with all the care and attention you've come to expect from him. His embrace is so familiar it may as well be your second home at this point. And it kind of is. And it's kind of perfect. 

And you're kind of in love with him–but you don't tell him that yet.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #vacation!joel #joel miller one shot #your summer dream #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

[rboooks]

DC x DP Fic idea: The Bakery is a Front!...right?

Danny Fenton starts his own business in Gotham. He knows that moving to Gotham is dangerous in a way, but it is the only other place with enough natural ectoplasm that can sustain him.

He wanted to move away from Amity Park to start on a clean slate. His parents now knew the truth, and to show their support, they were turning their research into a more sociological base instead of biological- I.E. ripped ghosts apart. Jaz got accepted into her dream college- Oxbridge. She moved overseas and is doing well in her advanced physiological courses. They told their parents of Dani, who promptly adopted her and signed her up for a traveling club under the condition she returned home for school.

The ghosts stopped challenging him after he explained Amity was his haunt and that it was bad manners to spar inside a haunt. He is open game in the ghost zone, but Danny got to choose when to go in there- his obsession requires him to defend something, so defending weaker ghosts in the Zone was a good option.

Danny always wanted to be an astronaut, but his teenage vigilante lifestyle ruined his chances- it isn't even his grades. It's a fact Danny's heart is so slow due to his ghost side it is mistaken as a heart condition. No space program would ever send him up with that. Danny decided that he would instead go with his second joy- baking. He opened Phantom Bakes in his second week in Gotham using funds from his Ghost King vault.

He served everyone and asked no questions. He was mostly sure half of his customers were gang members, but he didn't start anything and didn't allow any fights in his bakery. He became a sort of haven for everyone. He even began preparing packs for people experiencing homelessness, and bought the building next door to put some heating systems for anyone to sleep In during the winter.

Despite his obsession with protection, his human side made it possible for him to ignore it. He decided that his teenage years were spent too much giving in to his obsession and that in his twenties, he would retire. He did nothing while the various Bats threw themselves into battle, he turned a blind eye to petty crimes and basically tried not to bring any attention to himself.

He managed about six months until he accidentally walked through a cloud of fear gas while texting Sam and Tucker. His friends were tying the knot- the fact they all were best friends and exes was only slightly strange- and he was so focused on helping them plan the wedding as their Best Man he didn't hear the gasps, and horrified yells until he ran into Scarecrow.

He apologized for not looking where he was going and got a needle shoved unto his arm as a response. Danny's reflex to that was to punch the man a foot away from him.

The Bats quickly locked up the villain, and Danny decided he needed to be gone as fast as possible. He tried to return to his everyday life, but the next day, some of Scarecrow's goons showed up at his bakery asking him for work....so he hired them and taught them to make pastries. Then those goons brought over some friends who needed work but were recovering addicts and couldn't find employment.

He added coffee to his menu and threw them into that. Then some street kids asked if he would buy some stuff from them. Danny told them that he wasn't interested in car parts, but he was interested in furniture for the building next door. He had kids bringing in broken bookshelves, bed frames, and much more, paying them far more than the shady garages would.

Then some shady groups of men kept coming to his bakery asking for money for protection but Danny can protect himself just fine and proved it every single time a group made trouble.

He started having the streey kids make deliveries hoping to get them out of life of crime.

He made natural ectoplasm which, after much testing and research done by his parents, proved to clean out dangerous substances from the body. He made unique pastries that could help overcome addiction and heal withdraw.

He saw the light slowly return to the eyes of a drug-ridden community, and it brought him so much joy he barely charged for them.

Unknown to Danny, he has set himself as a up and coming villain. Rumors of his Fear Gas immunity attracted the attention of the Joker- who was found with all limbs broken, beaten black and blue after the clown tried to take a swing at Danny's employees. The baker had taken his broken body back to Arkharm, dragging the bleeding man through the streets uncaring of the line of red he left or the various people recording him in awed fear.

The rest of Gotham waited to see his true colors as he carefully built a front and gathered people. Some want to take him out as soon as possible.

Red Hood, most of all, after he heard that Danny had kids run special deliveries to know addicts. The only reason he hadn't blown his brains out was because Danny hadn't set himself up in crime alley.

The Bats had even talked him into joining an undercover mission to learn more about Danny. They didn't know what drugs he was moving or if he had a hand in other crimes, and needed more information that Oracle was unable to find.

She couldn't pull anything on Danny, driving her insane. (Techus erased Danny from the internet as a prank once and forgot to undo it.)

That led to Jason and Tim entering Phantom Bakes, acting like street kids who ran away from a homophobic father looking for a job.

Danny had them decorate cupcakes within the hour, letting them know he didn't expect them to crunch out masterpieces. They knew it would be a while to see Danny's real business so they bite thier tongues and got to work.

Tim just hopes they finish this mission before Jason snaps and shoots their main suspect....or before Danny romances the entire of Gotham because, goddammit, he has as much game as Brucie pretends to have. It's getting frustrating to see so many people throwing themselves at him, only for Danny to pretend not to notice. His good looks, charming personality, and carefully manipulated cover, drag good people into his schemes. He didn't want another Harley Quinn.

(He will ignore that his heart skips a beat whenever Danny gets too close. Thank you very much. It's just a crush; people get those all the time.)

(Part 2) (Part 3)

#DC x DP #dcxdp crossover #People think Danny is a villian #when in reality he is just vibing #his ghost side is alluring #Lowkey hes a siren #Jason wants his head in his dufflebag #Tim is 19 #Danny is 21 #the bakery is a front!...right?

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

The Correct Measurements (Girls Night series) - Max Verstappen

Summary: Max's girlfriend is having a girls night which includes each friend making their own cocktail for everyone to try and while Max tries to stay locked out of the way. But when he hears bickering, that's when he decides to "get some water" and investigate.

Also just a preface for the series, each fic will feature the reader and three friends. I am going to name the friends just becuase I hate the idea of using y/f/n and trying to figure out a way to make it work for three different friends.

Friends names for Max's fic - Rose, Emilia, Josie (used a name generator for these, soz if you hate them)

"Hello, ladies." Max greets having been allowed the luxury of greeting people into his house.

"Hey, Maxie. I hope you're not planning on sticking around." Emilia teases making him force a smile.

He's not exactly excited about being forced into his sim room while they get drunk. Especially because Josie and Emilia have especially high tolerance for alcohol and tend to try and make y/n and Rose keep up with them.

They're very nice sober but a bit wild while drunk. Plus it's a rare day off and he's not getting to spend it with y/n like he would prefer to.

"Be nice." Y/n laughs hugging each of the girls. "Max knows the rules for girls night. You guys go on, set up for the cocktails. I'll herd him into the sim room."

She finishes hugging the girls then moving to Max who smiles at her as she kisses him.

"Come on, champ. Let's get you on with the Red Line team. I bet they can't wait to be destroyed by you." Y/n smiles taking his hand and leading him through. "We'll behave by the way."

"I know." Max murmurs but sounds entirely unconvinced. "Please take it easy, last time Em got you to drink like she does. You took 3 days to recover."

"I'll be fine. We're making two cocktails each and no extra shots in the cocktails. House rule." Y/n promises him earning a hum before they're in his sim room and she kisses him lightly. "I love you."

"I love you too." Max smiles getting another kiss before she walks out closing the door and leaving him to sigh looking at his sim set up which usually he's happy to see and get on but right now he does sort of have a little bit of fomo.

-

It was about an hour of managing to focus on the screens before Max couldn't stop himself and he finally got up deciding he needed water and they couldn't stop him from getting it.

"Max!" Rose smiles brightly, clearly already drunk while the rest of the girls stop bickering and turn.

"Max..." Y/n starts ready to tell him off.

"I just need some water." Max states in his own defense before catching sight of the cocktails. "That looks nice."

"Do you want to try?" Y/n asks, always ready to offer Max something to get his opinion. Even with the girls around, Max's opinion means more than anyone else's in the room.

Max tries the light yellow cocktail and actually it's not too bad. Maybe a bit too sweet for his taste but not the worst drink he's had.

"It's nice." Max nods then smiling. "Whose is this one?"

"Mine." Emilia smiles brightly. "It's a pineapple vodka cocktail. Has some raspberry liqueur and vanilla in it too."

"Still getting your water?" Josie questions smirking slightly since she seems to be the most awake.

"Yes." Max nods as Rose and Emilia pick up their drinks to move back into the living room, Josie following and leaving y/n with her boyfriend.

"Max, are you feeling a bit left out?" Y/n asks after a few beats of silence while he moves to the fridge for some water. "You know, if you wanted...I might be able to talk them into letting you join just this one time-but you'd have to make cocktails with us."

"I can make cocktails." Max nods which makes her smile.

"I'll ask."

"Ok." Max smiles as she quickly moves over kissing him and practically giving him a shot of alcohol from the residue on her lips. There's definitely no way they are using the correct measurements, Emilia likes to use the "two shots of vodka" meme from vine as point of reference of how to measure out a shot (I really hope you guys know what I'm referring too). But she rushes off and he sighs awaiting the verdict.

"Fine, but he's gotta make 3 cocktails and they can't be repeated of what we've already done." Josie exclaims very dramatically.

Max isn't the biggest drinker because of his job, but he does know how to make a cocktail.

"You're in for the night." Y/n grins moving towards him and picking up the drink she'd left behind. "You have to drink mine for this round to catch up."

Max moves through and while he really wasn't sure what to expect. The bitching between the girls about anything and anyone is actually something he's more than happy to be a witness to, especially because it's a side to y/n that she seems to keep as an exclusive to the girls.

Eventually the Pineapple Vodka cocktail is finished by everyone and Rose gets up to have her turn making a cocktail while y/n leans back on Max for a moment.

"Enjoying yourself? You've been uncharacteristically quiet."

"I'm quiet because I'm enjoying myself. You girls are like a tv show or something." Max laughs earning a hum.

"Can someone help me?!" Rose calls out making Max get up quickly, stealing a kiss as he manages to push y/n back down on the ground.

"You know, he's not the worst addition to the night. His reactions that he thinks we can't see are really adding to the stories." Josie comments earning a smile from y/n.

"And from Rose, we have a Rosé sangria!" Rose beams as her and Max carry the glasses in. Handing them out before they sit down again.

As the cocktails continue and Max takes his turns he does begin to get more talkative, asking questions about whoever the girls are gossiping about.

"Rose, that's diabolical. You can't sleep with your companies rival COO. You'll be like fired." Josie cackles while Max is stunned to a silence since Rose out of all three of his girlfriend's friends, seems to be the sweetest and most innocent in nature. "Unless you're using him for a job..."

"First of all, it wasn't intentional. Second, I'm getting a promotion at work with a very generous raise. I don't need to sleep with someone for a job." Rose scoffs, now slightly more loose lipped with a bit more of an attitude now they've hit the 7th cocktail.

Max is almost certain they aren't going to hit the 11 cocktail count since they already need to aid each other in bathroom trips and Max had taken y/n back and forth at least four times now.

It suddenly dawns on him just how quiet and unmoving his girlfriend has been for a good 15 minutes and looking down at where she's resting on him, he has to smile a little seeing she's asleep.

"Oh dear, y/n's fallen asleep." Max states making the girls who started interrogating Rose about the details of her promotion and raise making sure it met their standards of an acceptable salary for the job she was being bumped up to.

"Oh...poor thing. She never can keep up." Emilia smiles, surprisingly always softening up the drunker she gets.

"I want to wake her up because we're not finished. But she's already drooling on you so I think it's far too late for that." Josie comments then sighing. "Ok, we'll make one last cocktail. Then bedtime. Are you staying out here with us or going to bed, Maxie?"

"I'll stay out here, but I might take y/n to get changed and get into something less...drool covered for myself after the last drink."

He also wants to get y/n to come around enough that he can get her to drink some water at least.

So after one more cocktail from Emilia as possibly the least incapacitated and of course a lot more yapping about anything that they can think of. Max finally gets to lift y/n's relaxed body up from his lap, somewhat stirring her enough for her to question what's happening.

"You need to get changed, baby. And have some water."

Probably not the end to girls night that y/n had envisioned, not even how Max had imagined his evening would go but he certainly has no regrets about it. In fact, he'd deny it to anyone beyond the girls if asked. But he had fun.

"Ok, drink first just in case you're drunker than I think." Max states since if she immediately struggled to actually keep the water in her mouth.

Thankfully she manages a couple mouthfuls, slightly more awake and aware of her surroundings while Max is beginning to feel that last cocktail make a really good effect as a night cap.

"I'm glad you were part of girls night. Even if Emilia and Josie are definitely not going to let it happen again."

"It was nice to get a peak at what happens all the times I'm not there." Max shrugs with a smile. "And they said I can sleep out in the living room with you."

"Good, I want Maxie cuddles." Y/n smiles earning a grin.

They do manage to brush teeth and change before they head out and lie down on the makeshift beds. Though it takes no one very long to get themselves to sleep with the amount of alcohol in their blood. It's a surprise they came back to find any of her friends still fighting off the sleep that is clearly coming over them.

"Alright, girlies. Good night." Rose smiles as they finally turn off the lights earning shared goodnights from everyone else.

"Max, you better not snore." Josie states suddenly after a few beats of silence only for there to be a swoosh and thud. "HEY!"

"That was me. Shut up, because you snore and we're not going to fall for you trying to blame it on Max." Rose giggles while y/n's feels herself squished in Max's arms and within seconds the world has fell away from her into an alcohol induced depth.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #mv1 #mv33 #mv33 one shot #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 x you #mv33 x y/n #mv33 fluff #mv33 fanfic #mv1 fluff #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv1 x y/n #f1 2024

[navybrat817]

With a Bang

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You want to look nice for the New Year's Eve party and Bucky doesn't want to share you with anyone else. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Insecurities, established relationship, implied explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Last writing for 2023! You lovelies wanted Bucky for NYE. Also dedicating this to @tumblin-theworldaway after chatting about the photo below and for being so supportive throughout the year. Love you, Aqua! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“It isn’t too late to back out!” Bucky called out from the living room.

You couldn’t help but smile as you slipped your shoes on. Tony had decided to throw a New Year’s Eve bash at the tower and everyone was expected to be there, but your boyfriend wasn’t exactly thrilled to go. You had a feeling he didn’t want to deal with the crowd or the noise, but planned to suck it up since you wanted to go. You wouldn’t make him stay long.

Just long enough to make an appearance before you two went home to ring in the New Year together.

“But I got all dressed up for you, Bucky!” You called back, groaning a little as you looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

You had examined your reflection from just about every angle to make sure you looked as close to perfection as you could achieve. The short dress wasn't too fancy or too casual, all black to go with Bucky's t-shirt since he insisted that he wasn’t dressing up for the party. The fabric hugged you in all the right ways and showed off just enough skin to keep his attention, but covered enough to leave him craving more.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and you hoped Bucky liked what he saw.

“All the more reason to stay home,” he joked a little.

With a deep breath, you pushed your shoulders back and left the bedroom. You managed not to lose your footing as you found him waiting for you in the living room. The butterflies that filled your stomach never stopped fluttering at the sight of the former assassin.

“What do you think?” You asked as you did a slow twirl. “Do you like it?” You added in a quieter tone.

You wanted to look good for him.

Bucky didn't speak as his eyes swept over you from head to toe. You tried not to squirm under the heat of his gaze, but your heart rate picked up as the silence stretched on. You couldn't stop your thighs from pressing together when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“No,” he finally said, his mouth set in a grim line a heartbeat later. “No fucking way you're going out in that.”

His reaction caught you off guard and you knew your face fell at his reaction. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your voice when you mumbled, “I wanted to look nice.”

He closed in on you and held your chin in his warm hand before you could look down, forcing you to meet his stormy gaze. It was like swimming in the ocean and you allowed the waves to sweep you away. “And you do look nice. You’re so beautiful, baby. You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

You almost hid your face from embarrassment at the loving praise, but his grip prevented you from doing so. “You really think so?”

“I do,” he said, giving you a subtle smirk as his hand fell back to his side. “You’ll also look beautiful sitting on my cock, so we’re skipping the party.”

Arousal shot you like a bolt of lightning, the sensation almost making your knees buckle. As nice as that sounded, it was getting late. “And I will as soon as we get back, but we have to go,” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a small tug when he made no move to get his jacket. “Come on. Everyone is going and they’re expecting you.”

“Everyone is going, but us,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips when you tried to pull him forward again. He stayed rooted to the spot. “Why do you want to go so badly?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered his question. “I don’t know. Maybe because I want to go to a New Year’s Eve party with my boyfriend and have a bit of fun,” you said, something swirling in your gut the more you thought about it. “And maybe I want people to see I can measure up to you.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes and you wished you could take that last statement back. Before the two of you started dating, you would've pegged him as an enigma. You never knew what he was thinking when he assessed people with a cool gaze. But that particular stare? You knew it well.

It was a look he always gave you when you said something self-deprecating or worse.

“Measure up to me?” He asked slowly.

You toyed with the hem of your dress with a small nod. “Yeah, Bucky. Measure up to you. Because you look like… well, that with hardly any effort,” you gestured to the t-shirt stretched over his broad chest before you pointed to his perfectly combed short hair. “And look how long it took me to look like this.”

You weren’t sure exactly why you were making a comparison. You felt beautiful and knew you looked good. But insecurities didn’t disappear overnight and sometimes surfaced at the most inopportune moments.

Bucky’s nostrils flared before he put his hands on your hips. “Baby, you’re stunning. A fucking goddess. I should drop to my knees and worship you right now,” he said, his words warming your heart and starting to overpower the mean voice in your head. “Did I do something to make you feel any less than that?”

“No, you didn’t,” you promised. Bucky was just as enamored with you as you were with him and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. From the moment you met, he displayed a level of openness with you that you didn't witness with most. He was careful with who he let close to him and who could blame him after what he had been through? “I don’t know. I guess I just want your friends to see that I’m worth being by your side.”

Your boyfriend looked a little taken aback. Why did you have to open your mouth? “Are you kidding me? Baby, everyone loves you. A few don’t think I’m worthy of being with you.”

Your eyes squinted, the need to protect and defend Bucky bubbling beneath your skin. “Who said that? Tell me now and I’ll make them eat their words.”

Bucky blinked before he chuckled, his nose and eyes crinkling. It brightened up his whole face. “Easy, tiger. You can put your claws away because I put them in their place,” he said, giving you a soft kiss to distract you. “And I’m telling you if I take you there tonight, they won’t leave you alone. Tony will hit on you. Sam will flirt with you. Steve will keep checking you out, too, and he’s my best friend.”

“Good, then you’ll see what I have to put up with when I go out with you,” you teased slightly with a poke to his chest.

He scoffed and gripped your wrist. “Girls don’t hit on me.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the words that came out of his mouth. He was an old man, but he wasn’t that old. Bucky had perfect eyesight and hearing, so he certainly saw when people hit on him and heard the flirty cadence in their voices.

“Just like Steve Rogers, you’re a terrible liar. But thank you anyway,” you said, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “Now why don’t you want to go to the party? Is it the crowd? Because I won’t make you go if you’re uncomfortable.”

You wouldn’t put him in a position to panic or retreat into himself if really didn’t want to go.

“I can handle that for a couple of hours. I promise.”

“Then why are you so eager to stay?” You asked, stopping him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say it’s to sleep with me. We both know you’re getting laid tonight.”

He let out a breath. “I guess part of me just doesn't want to share you with the rest of them. Not tonight,” he admitted, his smile bordering on apologetic. “Because you're my girl.”

Your heart raced again at his admission. It wasn't a red flag of possessiveness or trying to isolate you. He just wanted the pleasure of your company.

“And I’ll always be yours,” you promised, pulling him in for a kiss. It was gentle at first, the promise of more to come. A groan filled his chest as he deepened it and he didn’t stop until you felt dizzy, your breathing heavy when he pulled away.

It was a crime that he could kiss the way he did and one you wanted him to commit again and again.

“One hour,” he exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours. “One hour and I’m taking you home.”

“Two hours,” you countered, sliding your hand over his chest to feel how fast his heart raced. “And three dances.”

“Hour and a half. Two dances,” he offered, rolling his hips against yours. Your eyes fluttered as he rocked them again. “And a kiss at midnight in our bed.”

You hummed before you nodded. “Deal. And maybe, just maybe, you can even pour some champagne over my body and lick it off.”

You felt the deep rumble in his chest as his head fell back. “Fuck kissing you at midnight. I’m making you come on my cock as the clock counts down.”

Your entire body trembled, heat flooding your face before it rolled down your neck. “Nothing says ‘Happy New Year’ like an orgasm.”

He lifted his head, something soft in his eyes as he smiled. “Or being with the one you love,” he whispered, your heart skipping a beat as he pressed one more kiss to your lips. You loved him, too. “Now let’s go. I have a goddess in my arms I want to show off.”

“Okay,” you smiled, but he didn’t let you go. “Bucky?”

“Actually. One more thing,” he said, removing the dog tags from around his neck. He swallowed a bit before he put them over your head, drawing a gasp from you. “Sorry. They probably don’t go with the dress.”

You touched the dog tags with infinite tenderness, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, knowing how much it meant for him to give them to you. “Thank you.”

You’d take care of them and wear them with pride.

He breathed a sigh of relief that you accepted them. “You’re welcome,” he smiled, brushing away a tear that fell from your eye with his thumb. “Now we can go.”

Bucky was right. Of course, he was right. You turned multiple heads at the party and swore he growled when Tony, Sam, and Steve got too close, but you didn’t leave his side once. You were his girl and everyone knew it.

He even managed to get you to leave in under an hour, but made it up to you with an extra dance at home in the living room. He also gave you an earth-shattering orgasm at midnight like he promised after he stripped you down, his name spilling from your lips as he took you apart. He was still buried inside you as you kissed him, pouring your heart and soul into it. He gave all his love back to you in return.

“Happy New Year, Bucky,” you whispered, framing his face as his weight settled over you.

He traced the dog tags around your neck with a gentle smile. You didn’t want to take them off. “Happy New Year, baby,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you close. Like you were the most precious thing in the world.

As you closed your eyes, you smiled. You didn’t just ring in the New Year with a bang. You got to spend it feeling loved and whole. And you got to spend it with the best man you knew.

The one you were lucky enough to call yours.

Love and thanks to each of you lovelies for taking yet another ride on my nonsense train! ❤️ See you in 2024.

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x reader

[screeching-bunny]

may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere butler

[snaillock]

would you do satosugu discovering their "friend" (both of them have a fatass crush on m!reader) is a teen dad, and just all of them chaotically taking care of a baby. (like those collage students raising a baby tiktoks?)

ok so technically i only write for blue lock buttttttttttt… i am more than willing to make an exception for this. this is also my favorite niche of satosugu fics so im super honored someone requested it from me

tags: male reader has a foster daughter bc hell yeah girl dads, unnamed child bc that's too much for me, reader is a sorcerer, found family but in a janked up kinda way, whipped satosugu, pre-hidden inventory so everyone is in high school in this this a long one yall

part two coming soon!

★ when assigned an extremely harsh mission, you find an orphaned child barely a year old within all the rumble. you soon found out her family was recently killed in the destruction. unsure of what would happen to her after this, you decided to take her as your own.

★ scared of any judgment, you didn’t tell anyone about her so only a few higher-ups were aware. luckily you were allowed to live off campus so you two could have more space and privacy.

★ however the physical effects of raising a kid all on your own at such a young age were certainly showing. you came to school visibly worn down, often falling asleep in the middle of class and taking more absences than usual.

★ the first people to notice, of course, were gojo and geto. as nosy as they were, they tried not to push it, knowing you had just come back from a really taxing mission. though they did get more and more suspicious whenever you didn’t let them visit your new place.

★ however one day, they did spot you out in public wearing a baby carrier with, of course, a baby they’d never seen before resting right inside. they immediately came up to you and bombarded you with multiple questions before you got them to chill out and explained everything.

★ wanting you to take some time off (and win you over), they offer to take care of her regularly. who were you to refuse? after all, it is free babysitting and you were already using up so much money hiring actual babysitters.

★ during their first babysitting job, you thanked them profusely before going back into your room and instantly falling asleep the moment your body hit your bed, taking a very well-deserved nap.

★ you see, gojo was already pretty hesitant about you having a kid around. this was before he took in megumi so he found basically any child gross and annoying. (though he’s somehow even more attracted to you now that you’re a dad.)

★ coughs dilf lover gojo i mean what?

★ so when gojo picked up your baby for the first time, she immediately cried when they made eye contact and he got so so personally offended that he started rethinking this whole babysitting thing.

★ the first thirty minutes or so of taking care of your kid went pretty okay. that was until she started crying again and neither of them knew why.

★ you see, these idiots have no idea how to care for a child.

★ they frantically tried to calm her down and figure out what was wrong without needing to wake you. they checked if she was hurt in any way, she definitely wasn’t hungry since they already fed her, nor did she need to be changed. gojo even called shoko to see if she could do anything.

★ when they eventually saw her crawling towards your room and sobbing right outside your door, hesitantly let her in to see her climb onto your bed and lay down with you, realizing she just missed you the whole time. that entire experience made them so exhausted that they almost climbed into bed with you. but when they saw the gratitude on your face after you woke up, it made it all worth it.

★ luckily the next few times they watched over her, babysitting got more and more easy as she grew used to them.

★ they start coming over so often to look after her that your place basically becomes their second home.

★ geto is in charge of doing her hair since the last time gojo attempted it, it was just a big mess of hair ties and ribbons. geto’s definitely not complaining since he loves to get her ready. in fact, geto does a lot of the responsible stuff when taking care of her since gojo, hmm what’s a nice way to put it, lacks a lot of the necessary skills.

★ oh yeah, remember what i said about gojo hating younger children? yeah, that completely changes as he spends more time with your daughter. he’s almost always playing with her or showing up with a brand new toy or stuffed animal just for her. he ends up loving her so so much and wants to be her cool fun dad.

★ unfortunately both of them are way too nice when it comes to disciplining her. they let her get away with so much. late bedtimes, too much tv, grabbing any treats she wants off the grocery store shelves. how can they not spoil such an adorable little girl like her!?

★ what’s also unfortunate is how they try to drag you into it.

“come on, y/n. let loose a little. cake for dinner does sound pretty appetizing right now.”

“come on. just let her watch ten more minutes before bed.” gojo lazed on the couch with her on his lap. “besides this cartoon is starting to get good.”

“come onnn… just let her buy it.” geto held up a sparkly pink dress you already told him she doesn’t need with his own sparkles in his eyes. “she’ll look so cute in it. i promise i’ll pay you back.”

★ their hearts explode whenever you’re affectionate with her. they love the way you gently rock her in your arms while humming a sweet lullaby, slowly lulling her to sleep. the way they see you kiss her forehead after placing her into the crib before quickly turning around and acting like they weren’t staring the whole time. they fall head over heels for you for probably the twentieth time by now since they met you but those times were definitely the hardest.

★ they’ve been in her life for a good while so when she begins talking more frequently, she starts calling them her papas as she does with you. gojo aka former “ugh kids are so gross and icky” feels his heart combusting whenever she calls him that and he owns that title proudly. meanwhile geto feels so endeared and honored that she sees him that way.

★ “we’re not the stepdads. we’re the dads that stepped up!” looking asses.💀

★ the secret of you having a kid doesn’t last for long since these two can’t keep quiet about it. they’re just way too happy and want to show her off. especially gojo who scrolls through 100s of photos of her while gushing about her to basically anyone who’ll listen. shoko and nanami are the most common targets whenever this happens.

★ he even ends up showing photos of you and your daughter napping together (that you had no idea he took), making you snatch his phone away in embarrassment.

★ whenever you guys go out on family dates to go to the beach or picnicking, geto always takes the time to dress her up with pretty hairstyles and cute little outfits. he absolutely loves doting on her.

★ they love her with all their hearts and would do absolutely anything for her. she’s so lucky to have three weird dads take care of her and raise her. a very odd and… unconventional family dynamic but an amazing one nonetheless. this family only grows bigger and bigger once gojo takes in megumi and geto practically adopts mimiko and nanako.

please read my rules before following

taglist: @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo

ayo we rocking with the star bullet points?? 🗣️⁉️

#★ snail.writes ★ #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #satosugu x male reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #gojo x male reader #geto x male reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #finished this up while watching drew gooden

[endlessthxxghts]

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 

“Mhm, please.” 

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 

“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 

Silence. 

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 

“Darlin’...” 

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut #smut #Joel miller fluff #Joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #endless thoughts fics

[abbyromanoff]

https://www.tumblr.com/abbyromanoff/733612847112896512/requests-will-now-be-open-for-one-day-for

LOVED YOU FIC FOR KINKTOBER WITH EMILY PRENTISS SOOOO if you’re up to it i would love to request another fic with her! mommy!emily preferably, some choking, and emily being a real head pusher (strap or no strap, both?) because she’s possessive af!! and emily being all mocky when she’s pushing reader into subspace

love me a little mean!dom!emily

thanks and have a good day!

KEEP QUIET

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x reader

WORD COUNT: 726

WARNINGS: smut, breeding, talks of pregnancy, Mommy (E), choking, hair pulling, sex in office, strap on usage, breeding strap, possessiveness, begging, praise, degrading, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Shut your fucking mouth, baby, I don’t want nobody hearing those sweet moans except me,” Emily mumbled, and you returned a quiet apology. She sent a glare your way, and you quickly realized she was not joking. Her office was a sacred place of hers, one where she went nearly every day and spent more than half of her adulthood in. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was her very own that she was not forced to share.

JJ had greeted you when you walked in, giving you a small smile before you both fell into a small conversation about her husband and children. You always wanted a family, both women knew that, so Emily wasn’t entirely surprised when you ended up late at her door. You were only visiting to drop off her lunch and eat with her, but that soon changed when you were forced down onto the desk, your tits against the cold wood, and the papers she had been stressing over were now tossed to the floor.

“So fucking stressed, but you’re gonna help me, yeah? You being Mommy’s good little fuck-toy?” You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks and causing her to chuckle deeply.

“I saw how excited you got talking to JJ, seeing her baby bump must’ve made you so, so jealous. But don’t you worry, I’ll give you a baby, sweetheart. I’ll make you the prettiest mommy.”

“Em,”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t exactly remember saying you could speak, now did I?” Her hand played with your hair before she yanked it towards her direction, allowing your neck to be free of access to the lustful woman. She grabbed it, using her fingers to squeeze on your pulse points ever-so-slightly.

“I could see behind those sweet, innocent eyes that you were just dying to be her. Which is why-“ She cut herself off, a groan escaping her lips as you clenched around her strap. She couldn’t exactly feel it, but it caused the toy to rub perfectly against her pulsing clit.

“I got this specially made. Now, all I have to do is click this button, and you’ll be dripping in Mommy’s cum.” She teased the item, and you moaned at the thought. You had been begging for her to breed you, impregnate you, but the two of you both knew it was impossible under your circumstances.

“I’ve been wanting to fill this dirty cunt since you begged me that one night. You just looked so fucking precious, and now you look even sexier with my marks.” Hickey’s covered your skin, from past and present. Your thigh held a carving of her name from months ago when she caught you drunkenly flirting with your friend, even if you knew it was simply platonic. Then there was the tattoo, the one she paid for and monitored while you hesitantly agreed. It was right on your arm, ‘property of Emily Prentiss’. The thought of anyone seeing was utterly shameful, but she adored the idea. She wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, which was, and always will be, her.

“And for being so good, I’m going to let you cum. But I’ll be cumming first, got that?” You nodded, covering your mouth with your hand while she continued to pump her length inside of you. Her fingers traveled upward until they reached your mouth, pushing past the blockage as she inserted them.

“Oh- fuck! Fuck, I’m so close!” She yelled, and only moments later you felt the false liquid bursting inside of you. Her movements came to a halt, her breathing ragged and heavy while her thighs shook, waves seeming to crash over her as her coil snapped like a spring.

You began allowing yourself to give in, your body on the brink of overbearing pleasure until she pulled out, the cum slowly beginning to leak down your thighs.

“No, please! Please, I’ve been so good, Mommy- I- I need to cum so bad.” You cried, and she only mocked you as a result.

“You said I could, I-“ Her finger came to her lips in a shushing expression, and while you couldn’t see it, you could hear the taunt.

“Oh, I know,” She said. “But I never told you when, and Mommy wants to play a little longer, alright? And you want to make Mommy happy, correct?”

#emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Pretty Little Wife (William Afton x Wife! Reader SMUT)

Hi everyone, this is my first fic for the FNAF fandom, AU where William isn't a murderer, he just owns the pizzeria with Henry. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS STORY CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, mirror sex, soft dom William, slightly possessive William, fingering, multiple orgasms, throat holding/slight choking but not really, hand job, praise, fluff at the end, William is just really obsessed with being your husband, she/her pronouns used, AFAB reader, sweetheart, honey, baby, bunny used as pet names. I hope you guys enjoy!

If anyone knows who came up with this head cannon originally please let me know so I can tag them! William Afton absolutely fingers his wife with the hand his wedding ring is on, the thought has been making me feral for days.

You can find my Masterlist here! ~ AO3 Link!

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William loved nothing more than showing off his pretty little wife. Having you holding onto his arm, giving his bicep a tender squeeze whenever you joined in about one of his accomplishments. It was nights like tonight when he wished he had turned down his friend's request to join him and his wife for dinner. Every small shift in your movements highlighted something he absolutely adored about you; how you crossed one leg over the other, causing your dress to ride up slightly and show off the plush flesh of your thigh, how you would lean your head on his shoulder and he would catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume, how your much smaller hand would fidget with his when prompted to talk about yourself. “Will, I still don't know how you managed to pull a dime like that.” Henry chuckles as he pours the both of them a glass of whiskey. He hands him the crystal glass, the dark amber liquid swirling around inside.

“What can I say? I'm a lucky guy.” He smiles as the sound of your laughter drifts in from the other room.

“To our beautiful wives, my friend.” The glasses clink together as they toast. William eyed his business partner with disdain. He had noticed his lingering gaze on you the entire night, the sight alone was enough to nearly throw him into a jealous rage. How dare he look at you in such a disgusting manner, his best friend of all people.

“We should probably get going.” William forces a casual grin of dismissal. “I'm sure (Y/N) is getting pretty tired, she's had a long day.”

“Of course.” William nods courteously. “I wouldn't want to keep you and the Mrs. out too late.” The pair make their way back into the dining room where you sat chatting excitedly with William’s wife, Emilie. Your bright smile sent a surge through Williams veins, your bright eyes landing on him the instant he had entered the room. “Honey, you want to start heading home?” You nod, rising from your chair and molding into his side. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, shooting a possessive look towards the other man.

“Goodnight, it was wonderful to see you.” The pair make their goodbyes before you head out the door with your husband. “We should do that again soon.” You smile up at him as you cuddle into his side. A brief scowl flashes across his features as he thinks of the way his friend looked at you.

“Of course honey, I know how much you love spending time with Emilie.” His thumb languidly trails over the bare skin of your shoulder. You pause, your husband halting in time with your stopping movement. You gaze up at him lovingly, your hand sliding over his stomach as you turn him to face you.

“I love you, Mr. Afton.” You say softly and with a smile.

“And I love you, Mrs. Afton.” His head drops lower, allowing his lips to meet yours as he pulls you into a sweet kiss. The ride home was spent with you tucked comfortably into his side as he drove. You pulled up in front of your house, your gaze drifting up to meet his. “I can't get over how beautiful you are.” Your breath shudders from your chest as you feel yourself drowning in him. William always seemed to have this effect on you, his strong and dominant gaze holding you firmly in place as he admired your beauty. His hand slowly slid over your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at his subtle movements. His hand drifts to your face, tilting your chin up slightly as he brings his lips to yours. “Let’s head in.” He whispers.

“Okay.” You respond in the same tone as a smile creeps across your lips. William slides out of the driver's seat, taking long strides around the front of the car to open your door for you. You giggle as he offers his hand to help you out, allowing him to spin you around before he pulls you into his side. “I’m going to make some tea, do you want some?”

“That would be great, baby, thank you.” He kisses your forehead, both of you lazily walking to your shared bedroom to change into something a bit more comfortable. You had opted for one of your husbands button down shirts, the loose fabric cascading off one shoulder as you left it half unbuttoned, the lace of your lingerie peeking out just below the hem. William was forced to suppress a groan as he caught sight of you in the mirror, admiring the way you looked in his clothes with a giddy expression on your face. “Sweetheart,” you perk up at the sound of his voice before turning to face him, “come here.” You saunter over to him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him with bright, excited eyes. He gently takes hold of your waist, turning you around and guiding you back into his lap. You could see both of your reflections in the full length mirror across from you, your husband’s massive stature easily dwarfing your smaller frame. You sigh softly as you feel his lips press against your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in the mirror as you watch him trail kisses over your exposed skin. You feel his hand slide over your thigh, the cool shock from his wedding band drastically contrasting his warm skin. William always loved the way the gold band looked as his hands roamed your body. You push your back into his broad chest as he eases your legs open, “I think you look even better in this shirt than I do.” He breathes next to your ear. You squirm in his lap as he languidly trails his fingers up and down the inside of your thigh.

“I don’t know about that.” You run your hand over his strong forearm. “You’re always very nice to look at.” Your eyes drop to his lips before slowly raising to meet his again. His chest rumbles as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Is that so?” His hot breath fans over your lips. His finger trails along the edge of your underwear before he hooks into them, slowly easing the lace down your legs. He holds your face in his hand, directing your attention to the mirror in front of you. “You seem to forget how beautiful you are, sweetheart.” His massive hand wrapped around your thigh, massaging your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your cheek. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he finally runs his fingers over your dripping folds. “Look in the mirror, bunny.” He growls. You struggled to meet your reflections gaze, warmth immediately spreading across your cheeks at the sight of your husband's fingers quickly becoming covered in your arousal. Moans fell effortlessly from your lips as he gradually increased his pace. You cried out his name as he suddenly sinks his teeth into your neck. Your body jolts as his thumb grazes over your clit. “Look how pretty my girl is, already so loud from just my fingers.

“W-Will-” You gasp out his name, struggling to keep your eyes on the mirror as you watched him relentlessly fucked into your soaked cunt. He whispers sweet praises in your ear in an attempt to keep your mind from getting too hazy.

“You know, I never get tired of seeing my wedding ring disappear inside of you.” He hums. You could faintly make out the glint of the gold band in the dim lighting of the bedroom. William felt your walls flutter around his fingers. “Cum for me sweetheart.” He speeds up his pace rubbing your clit, your orgasm crashing over you not long after. You screamed as white hot pleasure ripped through you, William taking your chin in his hand to force you to look in the mirror. Your legs shuddered, your hips desperately grinding against his drenched hand. “That’s it honey, good job.” He praises you gently. “Think you can give me a few more.” He grins mischievously at you. A whine escaped your lips as he slowly began to pick up his pace again, your throbbing cunt already growing oversensitive from his touch. You squirmed, keening at his touch as he grazed your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body jolted at the smallest stimulation, your husband very easily able to bring you to the brink of your second orgasm. He chuckled slightly as you pushed yourself further down onto his fingers.

“Fuck.” You groan, your climax just out of reach.

“Just relax honey, let me take care of my pretty little wife.” He says as he nips at your neck, causing you to yelp. He caresses your jaw, guiding your eyes to meet his in the mirror. He traces a finger down your throat before wrapping his hand around your neck. “Who do you belong to honey?” You feel the smirk spread across his lips as they press to the corner of your mouth.

“My husband.” You suppress a grin as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. You hear a growl rise in his throat, hearing you call him your husband always did something to him. You scream as his fingers begin to fuck into you at a relentless place.

“Such a sweet little wife I have, look at how well you’re taking my fingers baby. Fuck, I love you so much.” You feel him start to rut his hips into you, his hard member pressing into the curve of your ass. He somehow managed to understand you begging to cum through the sobs that cracked free from your throat. The light pressure he was putting on your throat was making you delightfully lightheaded. You watched as his fingers slid in and out of your soaked core. Your body went rigid as he thrusted perfectly into a spot inside you that turned your vision white.

“Shit, that’s it, right there.” You gasp out. He places hot open mouthed kisses to your jaw. After a few more pumps of his fingers you screamed out his name, begging him to keep fucking you as you rode out your second orgasm. Your husband curses under his breath, you feel him struggling to pull off his pants. His hands wrap around your waist, moving you to sit on his stomach, guiding your hand to wrap around his cock. He hissed as you gave him a few tentative pumps. You moan as his fingers slip back inside of you, his rhythm matching your strokes.

“Faster.” He groans out a command, both of your rhythms increasing. You whined, resting a hand on his thigh as you struggled to stay upright. His hips stuttered as he tried to resist fucking into your fist. Your legs trembled as you fought against your impending orgasm, wanting to finish at the same time as him. You felt his cock twitch in your palm.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moan, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Finish for me sweetheart.” He holds on tightly to your hip with one hand, keeping you in place as the other pounded into you. You hear his breathy moans and strangled gasps as his own climax begins to creep up on him. He growls out your name as hot ropes of cum shoot from his aching member and splatter on his stomach, You collapse onto the mattress, his hold on you the only thing keeping your hips in the air as he forced one more orgasm out of you. You sobbed into the sheets, hot tears trailing down your cheeks as the intense pleasure became almost painful, your gummy walls clenching around his fingers as your whole body shook. Your body slumped as you came down from your high, William gently eased his fingers out of you and laid you down. He pulls you into his arms, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. He carefully tilts your chin up, kissing you softly as he holds you close.

“I love you Mr. Afton.” You smile sleepily, your eyelids already feeling heavy as you sink into the mattress. He chuckles at your fucked out state. He helps you out of his shirt before fully stripping down himself. He pulls your back to him, placing a kiss to your shoulder.

“I love you Mrs. Afton.” You laid in silence, the two of you just enjoying the quiet intimacy. It wasn’t long until you drifted off into a dreamless sleep wrapped up in your husband’s embrace.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my tag list drop a comment below! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

#fnaf #five nights at freddys #william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf x reader #matthew lillard #five nights at freddys x reader #william afton fanfic #william afton smut #smut #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #my writing #skeleton writes #my fic #fnaf smut #five nights at freddys smut #five nights at freddy's #mdni #minors do not interact #18+

[valeskafics]

"White Christmas" - Michael Gavey x Reader

a/n: combined an anon request for smut/confession and one for virgin michael and virgin reader with one from @sepherinaspoppies for a holiday fic. hope you guys enjoy 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Summary: Unresolved feelings surface when you tell your best friend you have a date.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, loss of virginity, oral f receiving, nonpurposeful orgasm denial, p in v sex, grinding/dry humping, mentions of porn, unprotected sex (idk they're in college, they have little impulse control), michael being an idiot

Word Count: 6,000 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You know it must have seemed quite odd on the first day of classes when everyone was asked to partner up that you and Michael gravitated toward each other immediately, already sitting beside one another in the front row of the lecture hall. Most show up at university without knowing anyone, ready to make friends and meet new people. However, you showed up to university with your best friend. Partnering up for projects was never easier, you never ate lunch alone, always had a willing study partner. The two of you may not be the most popular students at the university by any definition of the word, but you manage to create your own fun.

You’ve known Michael since the pair of you were kids. You were the only one he felt could match wits with him, and so a friendship was born. You can hardly imagine your life without Michael, nor can he imagine his without you. The two of you often joke that you’re Chewie to his Han, the Ani to his Obi Wan. Michael may not have the best social skills, but you’ve never really cared about that. What others see as rudeness, you see as blunt honesty. And it’s something you appreciate. You and Michael have never once lied to each other.

Well, there’s the tiny matter of you having a teensy weensy little crush on him, but that isn’t relevant right now. He’s your best friend and you have some exciting news for him. You enter the bustling cafe, plopping into a seat opposite your best friend, handing him one of the drinks you’ve just gotten from the vending machine. He looks up at you and gives you a quick smile, accepting the beverage and quickly beginning to chug it down.

“What’s got you so happy, then?” You question, arching a brow, “We’ve still got two more exams, Gavey.”

Michael shrugs, “Dunno. It’s just… Ah, forget it. Anyway, what time’s the train home Friday?”

“Half eleven,” you inform him, “So we should grab breakfast around ten.”

He nods in agreement before sighing, “Just got off the phone with my mum. Pretty sure she’s convinced we just study twenty-four hours a day.”

“Don’t we?” You open your binder, leafing through your notes, “We never do anything fun. Mama Gavey has a point. Well, not like we get invited anywhere anyway.”

Michael can’t help but chuckle in response to that. He’s always been the shyer one of the two of you, but your lack of popularity has never particularly bothered either of you. It’s been something that’s bonded you, allowed you to make fun of those you see as buying into the whole thing.

“We’re not exactly social butterflies, you and I.”

“Thought we were meant to come to uni to make friends, and yet here we are.” You smirk at him before adding, “Still stuck with each other.”

Michael returns your smirk, “We’re not stuck with each other. We choose each other. I’d take being friends with you over these superficial idiots any day.”

You rest a hand on your chest in a mock display of sincerity, “Oh, be still my beating heart! You do know how to compliment a girl, Gavey.”

Michael shakes his head at your antics, joking back, “Yeah, I know just what to say to win the ladies over. Just you wait, one day I’ll even get a girlfriend.”

You snort out a laugh, though the idea of Michael with anyone but you leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, “God, imagine you and one of those vapid art history cunts. They’d make you carry their purse for them going to and from class. You’d be more of a personal assistant than a boyfriend. We need to face it, yet another year with no Christmas romance in the cards for us. The Lone Ranger and Tonto ride once again.”

Michael shrugs, taking a sip of his drink and looking at you over the edge of his textbook, “Just us, hm? Nothing but our intelligence and superior education to keep us warm at night.”

“Gotta admit it would be nice not to go home for winter break as virgins though,” you remark absently, still searching for the page of notes you need to revise for your upcoming exam.

Your best friend’s face blanches before going red. He looks at you for a moment, eyes darting away when you look over at him, and shrugs.

“I guess. That would be kind of hard for two introverts to accomplish though. What girl wants a guy who can’t talk to her?”

“You talk to me,” you retort, “A bit too much, I’d reckon.”

Michael snickers at your words, your response catching him off guard, “See, I can talk to you. That’s different. I can’t talk to a girl.”

You feign offense, tossing a crumpled up napkin at him, “Are you saying I’m not a girl?”

He rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head, “That’s not what I meant. It’s easy with you. I don’t have to be worried about every word I say. You understand me. But when it comes to a pretty girl, I get overwhelmed, you know?”

“Are you saying that I’m ugly?”

“God, you know what I was getting at. I’m just…” Michael sighs, “I’m bad with attractive women. It just freaks me out. What am I going to say when I walk up to one? Ask them what their favorite Pokemon is?”

“Charizard,” you reply easily, “Any other answer is wrong.”

Michael smiles at you, shaking his head in amusement, “See? That’s what I mean. Best answer any girl could give. By the way, I prefer Pidgeot.”

Your jaw drops, “Fuck Pidgeot, useless flying little cretin!”

The blond raises an eyebrow at you, barely holding back his laughter, “You take that back! Pidgeot can fly you anywhere you want to go and looks majestic while doing out. What can Charizard do? Burn you?”

You stick your tongue out at Michael, “Charizard can fly too, you idiot!” 

He laughs at your indignation and childishness, thinking to himself that there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be than right here with you, arguing over his favorite Pokemon, “Yeah, but he looks all clumsy like. Pidgeot is elegant.”

“Elegance doesn’t win gym battles,” you sass, “Anyway. Dragonite. Got you there.”

Michael pauses and thinks for a moment before nodding his head, “Yeah, Dragonite is pretty sick. I’ll give you that one. You win this round.”

You pump your fist victoriously, making Michael roll his eyes at the action, grinning when you declare, “Anyway, I bought you the coolest Christmas present of all time. Prepare to have your mind absolutely blown. You don’t even understand, Mikey. This is the present to end all presents.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed, as he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?”

“Not telling!”

He resists the urge to pout like a child, if only barely, but he has to admit he’s enjoying the back and forth with you. He feels his cheeks heat up slightly when you laugh and smile at him, though he tries to push those thoughts far from his mind. Sure, he might’ve had a crush on you in secondary. But he’s completely past that. You’re his best friend and nothing more.

“Anway, I actually have a date. So, laters.”

Michael’s brows fly into his hairline as he lets out a derisive laugh, “You? A date? Are we being Punk’d? Is Ashton Kutcher going to pop out with his little video camera?”

You shake your head, standing up, “Nope. But Felix Catton is. My date, that is.”

Michael’s face immediately twists into an expression of displeasure, “Felix Catton?”

You narrow your eyes, “What’s that face about then, Gavey?”

“He’s an idiot! And a manwhore! That’s the Felix you’re going on a date with? The prissy rich boy we’ve made fun of all term?”

“Yes, that Felix,” you snark, grabbing your bag, “He’s actually quite nice. Walked me back from the station last weekend and we got to talking and said we’d grab a bite.”

“He’s a tool! Why would you go out with a guy like him? Don’t you have any standards?” Michael knows right then and there that he’s upset you. The way your expression falls, the light in your eyes fading slightly as you avert your gaze. You fiddle with your binder a bit more before abruptly snapping it shut and looking at him again, the sound and your sudden movement serving to startle him. However, he reaches out for your hand, “Look, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you deserve better than a guy who’ll just pump and dump you-”

“You don’t even know him,” you retort sharply, pulling your hand away, doing your best to keep the waver out of your voice, “I’ve got to get ready. Bye.”

Michael’s smile drops at the sharpness in your voice and he mumbles, “Good luck, I guess.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say coolly, walking away.

Michael watches you go and lets out a sigh, tugging at his hair in frustration. Why is he acting like this? He should be happy for you. You’re his best friend, you’re going out with a good-looking guy who’s apparently nice to you.

A guy that isn’t him…

Michael takes a deep breath and knocks on the door to your dorm, doing his best to keep a level head. He’s doing this to protect you. Not because he likes you. You’re his best friend. And it makes absolutely no difference to him that you’ve answered the door, your hair and makeup done, a little black dress clinging to your figure. He knows he’s staring. He knows he shouldn’t be.

“You’re not Felix,” you scowl, crossing your arms.

He clears his throat, giving an awkward cough before muttering, “Uh, yeah, nope. Definitely not the manwhore of Oxford.”

“What the hell is your damage, Michael?” You snap, glaring at him, “I’m your best mate, you should be fucking happy for me!” When he doesn’t respond, you sigh, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “You know what, forget it. Forget it.”

“Well pardon me for thinking that the manwhore of Oxford doesn’t have much in the way of redeeming qualities! I mean seriously, what are you thinking?!”

“He has one redeeming quality that really stands out and it’s the fact that he isn’t you.”

You slam the door shut in Michael’s face, hearing the indignant yelp he lets out as it nearly smacks his nose. He can’t even think of a comeback for that. That was a good one. But now, he feels his anger rising and begins banging on the door. Even if you don’t open it, at least he can have the satisfaction that he’s annoying you.

“Sod off, Gavey!”

“No! No, you can’t go out with that douchebag! He’s just going to use you to get what he wants and leave you high and dry! Give me ten minutes, I just need to talk to you!”

“I don’t want to,” you retort from behind your door, “Maybe I just want to be like a regular girl for once, Michael! Maybe I just want to go on a date with a boy and have him tell me I look pretty and try to kiss me!”

Hearing that last bit actually makes Michael let out a growl underneath his breath. You want someone else to kiss you? Someone who isn’t him? Like hell he’s going to let that happen. If he had the upper body strength, he’d break the stupid door down to get to you, but as it is, he doesn’t, and so he has to think rationally. He takes a deep breath and tries to speak calmly.

“He’s not a cute boy. And he’s just going to say those things to get a quick shag and never call you again.”

It’s at that moment that you come out of your room, purse and keys in hand, locking up as you begin rambling, “How stupid do you think I am? I mean really! I’m not a child, Michael!”

He’s hit a nerve, he can see. You’re trying to act confident, like you have all of this under control, but Michael knows you. He can see the hesitation behind your eyes as the two of you walk to the lift, hear the tremor in your voice. He’s starting to get to you.

“I just… Look, I know how guys work. Especially assholes like this. I just want to protect you, alright?”

The elevator doors slide open and the two of you get in as you exclaim, “I don’t need you to protect me!”

“Yes, you do! You’re being an idiot! Unless you just want to be manipulated and treated like trash!” Michael seethes, worrying that he might have gone too far when you round on him, nostrils flaring, your eyes burning with anger.

“Yeah? And maybe you’re just pissed I won’t be around for you to bitch at all the time!”

His eyes narrow as he glares back at you. You’re really turning this around on him, twisting his words? He only said it because he cares about you. How can you be so fucking stupid?

“You know that’s not what I’m saying, you’re being deliberately dense-”

“Then what are you saying?” You demand, your face right up against his.

Michael can feel your breath on his skin, your gaze boring into him. This newfound anger of yours is weirdly attractive to him, and he really hopes that you don’t glance downward and see that he has a hard-on right now. But, he realizes that, sooner or later, he’s going to have to fess up. And so, he inhales sharply through his nose and speaks.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m jealous. I don’t want you to go out with Felix. I want you for myself.”

You scoff incredulously, jabbing at his chest with your finger as you snark, “You don’t even see me as a girl, remember?”

Michael winces slightly at how hard you jab at him, but he can’t help his gaze from moving to your lips. Your eyes, blown wide with anger and yet still so beautiful. You’re wearing lipgloss, he notes, not a common occurrence. And it makes those lips of yours look so fucking kissable.

“Say something!” You all but shout as the elevator door opens, “Michael, fucking say something-”

At that moment, something in him snaps and his lips come slamming down onto yours, arms wrapping around you. Your eyes go wide. His kiss is awkward, clumsy. Unpracticed. But you can feel the emotion behind it as he nibbles at your lower lip, desperate for you to allow him to deepen the kiss. And you? You return it, hesitant and unsure, but you slowly kiss him back. It’s intense, and passionate. And kissing your best friend is nothing like you ever thought it would be. He accidentally bites down on your tongue and you wince, but you chase his tongue with your own, not wanting to let go quite yet. You can taste his chapstick, the slight hint of chocolate from the Crunchie bar he was no doubt eating only a few minutes before coming to speak to you. When the two of you finally pull apart, your eyes open slowly as you look up at him.

“W-what was that?”

“It was a kiss, what the fuck do you think it was?”

“Don’t be fucking cheeky,” you mutter, “The nerve.”

He smiles at you, uncharacteristically soft, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear as he speaks again, “Did… Did you like it? Was it good?”

“No, it wasn’t good! You bit my tongue for one thing, you utter twat, and for another thing- Mmmph!”

He cuts you off with another kiss, this one a bit more graceful than the last. Maybe he shouldn’t tease you so much, but he can’t help it. Not when you pinch your brows together like that and try to scold him, looking so entirely adorable, those lips of yours just begging to be kissed. When the two of you break apart again, he gives you a little grin.

“First one was just practice. This… This one was the real thing, yeah?”

You blink at him owlishly for a moment and hear Felix calling out your name. You glance out, seeing the elevator doors about to close, Felix walking toward the pair of you. And you have a decision to make.

And you choose him.

You press the button for your floor and pull Michael into another heated kiss, your arms wrapping around his, the doors closing with a quiet thud. Michael doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, his hands resting on the small of your back as the two of you lose yourself in the kiss. With every time your lips meet, the feeling grows more and more natural. It’s strange, but it feels so right.

Like it was meant to happen.

Back in your dorm, the two of you fall onto your bed, a heap of tangled limbs and mussed hair as you continue kissing, only breaking apart so you can catch your breath. You lay on top of Michael, gazing down at him as your lips ghost along his jaw before you finally speak.

“I want you to be my first. Not Felix. You.”

Michael’s heart pounds in his chest. Fuck, did the room just get warmer? He can’t help but smile at you, holding you captive with his intense gaze.

“Really? You really want your first time to be with me?”

You nod, asking softly, “Do you want me to be your first too?”

He answers without hesitation, “Yes, absolutely.”

Michael leans up to pull you into another kiss, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as your hands move to his hair. He can feel his cock straining against his pants, achingly hard as you slowly move your hips against his.

“What if this ruins things between us?” You ask between kisses, “What if stuff isn’t the same?”

“I don’t care,” he admits, “This could wreck everything but all l I can think about right now is your lips, your face, you…” The look in his eyes is so earnest that it almost makes your heart ache, “Please let me love you. I’ve wanted to for so long.”

“You… Wait. Pause, rewind what?” You ask, sitting up, “How long? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Michael’s cheeks redden, “Since we met. I mean, I’ve always liked you.”

“We met in Year 5, you idiot,” you say, slapping his chest.

He grins as you hit him, finding the whole thing kind of adorable in a way. The moment he met you back in Year 5, he was drawn to you. Not because he thought you were cute, though that played a part in it. Because you were witty and so kind to him. And you became the most important person in his life.

You lean in, kissing him softly before mumbling, “Shit, that means we could’ve been making out this whole time since I’ve wanted you since then too.”

Your admission sends Michael’s mind into a frenzy - you’ve thought of him the way he’s always thought of you? It’s almost too good to be true and he feels like a giddy schoolboy.

“You wanted me too?”

“Do you really think all those times I ‘accidentally’ answered the door in just a shirt and my knickers were accidents?”

Okay, so it was obvious. You were being obvious and he was too stupid to realize. Teasing him and dropping hints.

“I just assumed you were making a statement against the patriarchy and showing you weren’t ashamed to display your female body or what not. Not that you were trying to seduce me!”

You slap your forehead, “For a genius, you’re a right fucking idiot.”

Michael can’t help but let out a bark of a laugh at your words because of how true they are, “Yeah, for a couple of geniuses, we’re quite obtuse.”

You smile as he pulls you into another kiss, giggling at the groan he lets out as you grind your hips against his, “Oh, that was a cute sound.”

“Fuck off, it wasn’t cute,” he grumbles, squirming against you slightly, embarrassed, “I haven’t done anything cute.”

You brush your nose against Michael’s, whispering, “Everything you do is cute. Or annoying. Or an odd combination of both.”

It’s such a simple gesture, touching your nose to his, but it feels so intimate. He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes, lips upturned in a small smile.

“You’re a bit of a tease, you know that, right?”

You grin, grinding your hips against him again, “Yeah?”

Michael pouts, his cheeks flushing as he mumbles, “Yeah. You love seeing me squirm. You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“Sorry,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss just below his ear, loving the way he shivers.

The feeling is electrifying to Michael, and when you giggle, it sends a jolt through his body. God, you’re a menace. An irresistible little menace. But now? It feels like you’re his menace.

You tug at his sweater, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. You run your hands along his bare chest, smiling to yourself. Michael gazes up at you, awestruck. You want him. You really want him. You lean in, your lips pressed to his neck, moving lower and lower, your tongue tracing his collarbone.

“You don’t realize how gorgeous you are, do you?” You murmur.

Michael’s breath catches in his throat at your words. He’s always thought he’s nothing more than an average looking guy, but the way you see him? It’s incredible. You look at him in a way that makes him feel like his blood is on fire. He feels handsome, sexy. Desired. For the first time in his life. Between kisses, you manage to slide that little black dress of yours up over your head, letting it join his sweater on the floor. Michael’s eyes go wide with wonder, watching the slight bounce of your tits as you lean back. You’re so fucking beautiful that he can’t help but stare. And then, when you unclasp your bra, his jaw literally drops. You lean in, pressing your soft, warm chest against his as you kiss him again, his hands resting on your hips as you continue to roll them against his, grinding yourself against his bulge.

When he lets out a quiet little whimper, you glance down, seeing the wet patch on his trousers and quickly give him a reassuring smile, seeing the way he looks as if he wants to die from embarrassment, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s, uh, kind of flattering that I managed to do that. That you wanted me that bad, you know?”

You’re so fucking sweet, and it’s making him want to kiss you again. So that’s what he does, moaning as you push him back down on the bed, kissing his lips, his jaw, then his chest. Your tongue swirls around one of his nipples and he lets out a quiet gasp, breathing quickening as you move lower, kissing his stomach. You give him a coy little smile.

“You’re adorable.”

He thinks he could just about melt into the bed at that seductive look in your eyes. His brain, normally so sharp, feels like mush. He can’t think of any way to describe you other than perfect. You tug at his jeans, tossing them aside, gently dragging your nails along his thighs. He can feel his whole body trembling from your teasing, the light scratch feeling like heaven. He can feel his cock twitch slightly, and though he’s not hard again yet, he knows it won’t be long. You look up at him and a nervous laugh escapes your lips.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Michael can’t help but smile, realizing that this is just as new for you as it is for him, tucking that same stray piece of hair behind your ear that came loose before, “That’s alright. I’ve got a good idea on how this goes anyways. I’ve watched my fair share of research material.”

You let Michael switch the two of you around so that you’re laying underneath him, though his words make you sass, “Research material? What, you mean trying to rub one out to Babestation after school before your mum came home?”

Michael gives you a half-hearted glare, “Well, yes obviously. What else would I watch? Though Busty Asian Beauties isn’t a bad one-”

“What the fuck is Busty Asian Beauties?” You giggle, slapping your hand over your mouth in an attempt to calm your laughter, “Idiot.”

“Okay, okay, enough research material talk, can I proceed with what I was going to do or do you want to continue talking about the best places to watch porn?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Mikey, let’s workshop this.”

He shakes his head at you, the sight of you beneath him, bare save for your panties, has him feeling almost feral with want. He can barely keep himself in check, shivering with anticipation as he leans in to kiss your neck, down to your chest. You let out a whine as he bites down a bit too hard.

“Gentler, Michael.”

He pulls back immediately, the last thing he wants is to hurt you, “Sorry, you okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, just easy on the teeth. Damn, you’ve got a set of chompers on you.”

He snickers, your teasing banter mixed with your nervous demeanor making his heart flutter. He’s always prided himself on being logical, and being able to anticipate every possible outcome to a scenario, but this? This is beyond what he ever could have dreamed. He moves to kiss your lower stomach and you watch with bated breath, though you burst into laughter as his chin tickles your navel, squirming away from him.

“Christ, that tickles.”

Michael pulls away, bursting into laughter as well, having thought he was going to make major progress with that little maneuver, only to turn you into a giggling mess, “S-sorry! I thought that was the next move! Should I try lower?”

“Yeah, okay,” you manage between laughs, though your lips part, eyes going wide as he presses a kiss to your pussy over the fabric of your panties. You stare at him, watching as he slides the garment down your legs and tosses it to the ground, more and more clothes piling up at the foot of your bed, only his boxers left to go now. You watch as he buries his tongue inside you and moan, your fingers twisting in his hair as he laps against your folds eagerly. A little too eagerly for your taste, the sensation making you squirm.

“Woah, slow down! It’s my cunt, not a burlap sack, Michael, fuck’s sake.”

He rolls his eyes, wanting nothing more to devour you when you’re so sensitive like this, but apologizes, “Well, sorry! I’m sort of excited here. Wanted this for so long.”

“Me too, but damn, just go a little easy!”

Michael nods before moving his lips back to your cunt, his tongue slowly tracing your center, licking at you gently, his nose rubbing at your clit as he slowly pushes his tongue inside you. He’s slower now, more steady, and you love it. You moan his name softly, singing his praises, how good he is. It spurs him on, drives him crazy, and he holds your thighs apart, continuing to move his tongue against you until he hears you let out a particularly loud cry of his name. He smirks to himself, pulling back, only to see you glaring up at him.

“What the fuck, Michael?!” You let out a near sob of frustration, smacking his shoulder, “I was so fucking close!”

He winces, feeling quite guilty for messing up so badly and quickly asks, “Do you want me to do it again?”

“No, let’s just do the thing.” You say impatiently, “Now.”

He arches a brow, knowing what you mean but wanting to tease you, “The ‘thing’? What thing is that? Are you saying,” he whispers against your lips softly, “You want me to…”

“Yes, you prick, that’s exactly what I’m saying!” You scowl, “Hurry up!”

He all but cackles at your cursing at him, feeling all the more turned on by it, quickly getting out of his boxers and tossing them to the floor. He moves to lay on top of you again, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pressing the tip of his cock against you, pushing in slowly. You wince at the sting, letting out a quiet whimper. Michael stills, panicking. He knows it can hurt your first time and it takes everything in him to hold himself back. He just wants to push all the way inside you, feel your walls around him, but he moves slowly, gazing at you in concern.

“Are you okay?” He whispers.

“I’m fine,” you manage through gritted teeth, “Just keep going.”

He trusts your judgment, bottoming out inside of you, propping himself up on his arms as he peppers kisses all over your face, attentive to your reactions. After a few moments, he feels you relax against him, your arms wrapping around him as you press your lips to his. You nod at him, telling him without words that you want him to move. And he begins rolling his hips against yours, hearing the little moan you let out at the friction. He grins, moving a bit faster, loving the way you squeeze around him, your body trembling as you wrap your arms around him.

Your toes curl as you feel him thrust deeper and deeper, the fat head of his cock brushing against your most sensitive spot, his hips stuttering, movements and breathing growing more erratic while the coil in your stomach begins to wind. And then, you feel him spill himself inside you with a groan. He looks at you, horrified at finishing before you. But you rest your hands on his cheeks, smiling gently.

“It’s okay. It happens to a lot of guys, I’ve heard.” Your words reassure him, but he still can’t help the guilt - he’s such a loser, how could he have blown his load so quickly? Then you give him a cheeky smirk, “You can use your hands to finish me off. Or your mouth.”

He bites his lip, leaning in to whisper in a low voice, “How about both?”

You look at him, confused, eyes going wide when he immediately moves to sit on his haunches between your thighs, mouthing at your pussy just as eagerly as before. He lifts your thighs up over his shoulders, burying his face between them, moving his face from side to side, glasses fogging up from the heat between you two, licking at you over and over and over until you let out a cry of his name, finally spilling yourself on his tongue, feeling like every nerve ending in your body has been set on fire. But he’s not finished. He quickly moves to push two fingers inside you, moaning at the feel of your wetness around the digits, moving them a bit too fast for your taste, but you say nothing, too consumed by the feeling of him rubbing up against your sweet spot. You grab his wrist to hold his hand in place.

“Right there, Michael, fuck!”

He nods, brow furrowing in concentration as he moves his fingers faster and faster, your eyes rolling back as the coil in your stomach tightens again, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your faces. And then suddenly? You’re spilling yourself against his fingers, nearly screaming his name.

After a few moments of silence and both of you staring at the ceiling, you mumble, “Whoa.”

Michael breathes heavily, a smile on his face, “Yeah.”

You turn on your side to face him and question, vulnerability on your face and in your voice, “We’re… We’re still best friends, right? Even if we shagged?”

He nods vehemently, “Of course. Can’t imagine not being your best friend.”

“Cool,” you nod, “So is this… A thing?”

He chuckles slightly, resting a hand on your hip as he turns to face you, “We can be. Do you want to be a thing?”

“I dunno, I asked first!”

He can’t help but laugh again, pressing his lips to your forehead. His perfect girl. You drive him crazy, your sass, your humor, your face, your body. Everything.

“Yes, I want to be a thing. We are definitely a thing.”

“Okay, so this is a thing,” you nod, “Cool. Cool cool cool.”

Michael shakes his head affectionately at your rambling, kissing you for a long moment before murmuring, “I have one more thing to ask you, though.” He takes a deep breath, his nerves nearly getting the better of him before he blurts out, “Be my girlfriend.”

“Hm,” you pretend to think, “Let’s weigh the pros and cons.”

He rolls his eyes, flicking your forehead, making you yelp, “Pros. My undivided attention, my puns, getting you flowers, making out with me for eternity. Loads of pros.”

“Cons, it’s you,” you snark, making him smack your bum playfully. You giggle but your voice grows more somber when you speak again, “Con. If we break up, I don’t just lose my boyfriend. I lose my best friend too.”

Michael doesn’t say anything for a moment but then he whispers, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have no intention of breaking up. So I’m sort of begging you here to give me a chance. Because I don’t think I can live without kissing you again.”

“Okay,” you breathe, “You’re my boyfriend then. BF and BFF in one neat little package.”

He hates when you use IM speak in real life normally, but this makes him laugh. Then, you move away from him, mumbling.

“Lemme grab your present. If I don’t give it to you, I’m literally going to keep it for myself. It’s just that cool. I swear.” He watches as you scramble out of bed and grab his sweater, the maroon color complimenting you perfectly as you pull it, and nothing else, on, “I’m keeping this by the way. Girlfriend privilege. ‘S mine now.”

He should’ve known. Cheeky little minx. You have him wrapped around that little finger of yours with no effort at all. You always have. And the idea of fucking you while you’re wearing nothing but his sweater is more than a little appealing.

You hand him a wrapped box, grinning almost maniacally, making him arch a brow, “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

He tears open the wrapping paper, dying to know what it is, eyes going wide when the paper is gone and he can finally see what you’ve got him.

“No fucking way. No fucking way. Slave 1?!” He stares at you in wonder, mind absolutely blown, “H-how did you even… How much was this?!”

“Fifty quid. Got it on layaway.” He immediately grabs you, pulling you into a kiss, feeling a plethora of emotions, pinching your side as you sass, “If you don’t like it, I can just keep it-”

“Fuck off, it’s mine!” He beams at you, cupping your face in his hands, “This is… Wow. Let’s put it together? And then I’ll grab my present for you from my dorm.”

“Is this our first couple activity?” You tease as the two of you begin unboxing the set, “Well, other than the shagging, of course.”

Michael gives you an amused look, before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, soft and gentle, “Happy Christmas… Girlfriend.”

Your smile is radiant as you turn to him, kissing him back, pulling away only to whisper, “Happy Christmas, boyfriend.” You pause before joking, “Was a white Christmas indeed.”

“Fuck’s sake, you just had to spoil the moment.”

“Yeah.”

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey fic #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fic #michael gavey fanfic #ewan nation #my writing #michael oneshot #holiday fic

[tismrot]

The uwu-fication of Good Omens

I’m not saying this to piss on anyone’s parade, everyone can like whatever they want and I realize that people who are perhaps… not experienced in traumatic adult relationships and/or aren’t bitter remnants of whatever ray of light they were supposed to be - I realize their fiction will probably be (for lack of better words)… light and easy.

I also realize that due to the collective heartbreak we’ve experienced after the end of season 2, a little fluff is perhaps needed. Again, not defecating on any crowds - but, like, we did watch the same show, right?

There are some REALLY good meta out there, as well as some fics and some art that really captures the essence of both Crowley and Aziraphale, and the context they struggle within.

…And then there are fics and art/comics where particularly Crowley is reduced to this very tsundere, cranky-despite-secretly-affectionate anime character who blushes and gets ✨ve-y angy✨ whenever he gets a kiss on his cheek or something and I’m like… okay? But. That’s not Crowley, is it? (Yes, you can make him into a hemipened waifu pillow for all I care, go do what makes you happy) - it’s just… You know?

Crowley and Aziraphale are (despite their celestial origins) - at their core - two middle aged, closeted, homosexual men who used to work for two equally oppressive, evil and incompetent fascist governments. That’s why they meet on the benches in the park, like all the other agents sent from other oppressive nations and agencies. The book was written during the last years of the cold war, and during the height of the AIDS crisis. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the first meds for HIV came in 1992 - being gay and being seen with the enemy could bring about equally terrifying death sentences. Yet, they do their best to thwart their Cold War, and then, the nuclear apocalypse.

After barely succeeding, they become as close as they dare to be, and they both know they love each other. Of course they do. That’s why Crowley wants them to stop pretending they don’t. He already assumes Aziraphale knows, because HE DOES KNOW.

Crowley isn’t (canonically) an uwu angy tsundere snek. He is a miserable ex-agent screaming at his closeted, gay lover for refusing to run away with him after 6000 years of war. Crowley is the opposite of tsundere, he is an open, aching wound.

Aziraphale isn’t a kawaii angel cup of hot chocolate, he is a desperate and scared idealist who is threatened into compliance by Great Leader, and who secretly wants nothing more than to let go of all propriety and just allow himself to be happy and freely experience life and love with the man he’s wanted all along, far from all oppression both from society and Heaven.

You guys, this is a story about fighting oppression for love. I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same side.

And perhaps I’m just old, perhaps my experiences with multiple failed relationships, friendships and my own fallen idealism tints my glasses… But I feel a certain way about all the uwu. I’m sorry. Do uwu if you want. I’m gonna focus on the OPPRESSION, because - apparently - that’s the wall my socks stick to.

And yeah, I know this is very old man yells at cloud. Younger people (or people who just aren’t exactly like me) seeing this show or reading the book deserve the right to play around with it, just like I do. I know, I know, I know. I just needed to say this. Slay me if you must.

End of rant. Thank you for coming to my depression.

EDIT: Yes, I made the Avril Lavigne thing further down. Yes, I am a hypocrite. I’ve made my peace with this.

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley edits #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #innefable husbands #good omens fandom

[priestessame]

Jing Yuan☆

♡ "A snowball's chance in hell" ♡

Warnings: This is a dark fic. Jing Yuan is a manipulative shit. Power dynamic, dub con, mind break, somno, drug use, gaslighting, degradation, skull fucking, penetrative sex, marking, dirty talk, cum play.

•°*”˜ AFAB female sub! reader

Minors you have no business here pls leave thankyou.

•°*”˜ Summary: The loufu general was a kind man. For the most part. (This man literally makes me so feral I'm sorry for everything that exists under the cut.

The general smiled at you differently.

When you mentioned that to your colleagues, they laughed so hard that one snorted out the energy drink from his nose. You felt your face burn with embarrassment as they doubled over, slapping their knees. Your first thought was that you wouldn't ever mention it to anyone else again. And your next thought was to tell yourself that you were indeed overthinking it.

It was stupid of you to think that way.

You were probably just projecting your own anxiety on his mannerisms. Thinking there was something wrong with his smile was probably because you were nervous to begin with. Right? Why would someone like the general even notice you out of all the new recruits?

Well, he hadn't even seen you before you had actually bumped into him in the hallway, the impact making you fall back on your behind, that he actually saw you.

"s-sorry general." you had stuttered out, half mortified and half starstruck at the sudden encounter. For you, it was a situation out of some romance novel. Wasn't this the moment that the clumsy heroine bumped into the male lead sending papers scattering across the floor. The first time he actually notices her is the moment that sparks the tumultuous romance. An overdone trope but its prospect still made you feel butterflies.

"Are you alright?" he chuckled,

In your head, you had expected to see him the way you had seen him walk along the harbor, with a polite gait and a kind smile tracing his lips. His low chuckles ringing in the late afternoon sun as he allowed himself a glass of wine or more. Everyone there worshipped him, in a place like that how could you see that man as anything less than glorious? You had looked up hoping to see the same image. But that's when he gave you that smile.

Gaunt across his handsome face, it was exactly like the one he gave others, yet there was something morbidly wrong with it. It had given you chills you had never felt like someone had dragged an ice-cold dagger along your back.

"You should be more careful, cadet." He hummed, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he gave you a departing nod.

The general did smile at you differently.

Most of the time you couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it was like he was masking something sinister underneath. It made you tip-toe around him since then, forever looking over your shoulder waiting for that darkness to actually catch up to you.

Until then, Jing Yuan never thought of himself to be that kind of a man. Someone sick who took a masochistic pleasure in knowing how much power he held over you. In the beginning, he tried feeling guilty about it, for even letting his sick thoughts about you plague him for that long. Yet the way his cock had twitched when you looked up at him, begged to differ.

The way your doe eyes were full of guilt, just for bumping into him. In that moment he had realized the unsurmountable pedestal you had placed him on. You just made it more and more difficult for him to resist the urge.

As the general, it wasn't hard to make sure you weren't sent out on patrol often. It was even easier to get you to agree with what your beloved general was saying. Of course, you would abide by his orders.

In the beginning, he tried to be more restrained. Choosing and picking when and where he could get to you. His little work trip had provided him the perfect opportunity.

You had been so vigilant the entire time. Running around to cater to every need of his dutifully. Not once interjecting his work. Such devotion truly deserved his attention.

It had made it all the more easy to slip you something. With all the trust you had in him, you would have downed it with a single command. But he fed it to you with expensive food and wine, after all he didn't want to scare you away.

As selfish as he wanted to be, he didn't really fuck you. Jing Yuan wanted you to be awake for that, watch your eyes widen as he stretched you out for the first time. To hear your sweet whimpers, bottled them up and down it like old wine.

But still, the scene before him had been nothing short of divine. The flushed face and the fluttering eyes, even when you were drugged out of your mind you still worshipped him. How could he not find devotion like that endearing?

He had taken his time to peel the layers off of you. Teeth grazing your skin, careful not to leave any marks. You really were his perfect doll, letting him rub his sensitive cock over your folds. He had fucked your thighs, eyes pinned on your pretty cunt as he spilled out on your stomach. He knew there and then that the next time had to be inside you.

When you actually did wake up, you were just apologetic. Embarrassed that you had fallen asleep on your general when you were supposed to be on duty. He was mostly amused at how quickly you pushed away the question he asked you about last night. It was fun to see your eyebrows knit as you tried to remember the faint details. The slightly confused glaze in your eyes as you realized how unnatural your memory loss was.

Jing Yuan had just smiled at you kindly, "You were just tired from working so hard." he said. And it had all just worked that perfectly.

But with the work at the Xianzhou increasing, his very precious trips had to be cut down. And now, he had noticed another problem.

The general of the Loufu knights leaned heavily against the window, his eyes following your frame skipping across the street to deliver the daily report. And just like every day, that asshole stopped you again. His anger flared at how badly he wanted to mangle up that stupid knight. The boy followed you like a shadow the moment you stepped outside the confines of the office, his slender eyes perched on your smallest gestures. Jing yuan couldn't tell what was more pathetic, how placidly obvious that man's crush on you was or how oblivious you were to it.

It was forever the same routine, he would watch you cross the street, and then get stopped by that idiot. The knight would scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, fighting to keep the blush off his face as he spoke to you.

Jing Yuan's eyes would be pinned on that reaction, watching it like a hawk from the window of his office. His chest rising and falling in silent anger as he wondered what lethargic conversation he was striking with you. You were too polite to brush off his advances, always so patient with even the most undeserving.

Jing Yuan spun away from his window, it was getting too much now, he had to claim you, split you open on his cock until you couldn't think of anyone but him. His cock throbbed at the thought of you pinned under him, babbling out sweet words of gratitude as he pounded into you. He knew you'd love it, he'd make sure of that. And if couldn't whisk you away, he'd just have to do it right here.

The first opportunity presented itself at once. It was surprising how he didn't even have to initiate anything.

You looked mortified at your actions, wide eyes so apologetic as they gauged the cracked vial of perfume on his desk. The perfume doused the general's clothes, the way it had splintered on the table, making the liquid run down the edge staining his trousers. 

"Didn't I tell you to be vigilant about this?" He sighed, over your teary apologies. 

You hung your head, knowing that it was probably something rare and important that you had broken. 

The ends of Jing Yuan's lips quirked in a smile,  

"Why don't you start by cleaning up the mess you made?" 

He said, slipping his shirt off his shoulders. You looked up confused, the general stood before you impatiently, waiting for you to act on what he had commanded. You faltered shifting on your feet, trying to understand what he was actually asking of you. Your eyes trailed down his bare torso, making you press your thighs together. Did he really want you to undress him? 

You shook your head, scrambling forward regardless to do as you were told. 

Your mouth went dry, fingers trembling as you unbuttoned his trousers, dropping down on your knees to settle between his legs. His hard bulge painfully noticeable, making a print against his pants.

Jing yuan clicked his tongue. He cupped your face, pulling you against him until you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes pinned on your kneeling form, his thumb tracing your puffy lips playfully. There was something blistering about his gaze, almost wicked with the way his eyes sized you up.

"Use your mouth." he commanded. 

This time you faltered. Your heart raced in your chest. His words making you squeeze your thighs together.

Jing yuan tilted his head at your words, "Are you refusing to follow my orders knight?"

You could tell this was crossing a line. Something amoral and wrong, a dangerous line he always teased of crossing but never really did. It made your legs go weak.

"General, that's-" you tried, tears prickling at your eyes. You stopped mid sentence, you wanted to pleasure him so badly, to serve your general in every way you could. With everything he had done for you, how could you not?

"n-no general." you mimed back.

Jing Yuan gave you the same smile again, and it finally clicked in your head like puzzle pieces falling together. You had been too gullible about this hadn't you?

Your fingers pulled his cock out from the restraints of the trousers,

You gave the tip a nervous lick, curling your fingers around the thick base. He looked painfully hard, the pinkish tip already oozing precum. You felt an aching warmth pool between your legs, heat rushed to your cheeks as you realised just how much this fucked up situation was getting you off. He gave out a low groan as you rolled your tongue over the head, fingers sliding down to dig into your hair. The sound made your toes curl. 

You continued to run your tongue along his length dutifully, suddenly wanting to feel more of him in your mouth. He hissed as you slipped the sensitive head inside your mouth, wrapping your lips around girth and sucking softly, cheeks hallowing as your warm tongue slipped over the slit.

To actually look down at you being so pliant, trying to fit his cock into your mouth hoping to catch just a few words of praise.

The budding tears made your eyelashes stick to your cheek, "Am I doing it right general?" you moaned out, looking up at him as his cock slipped out of your mouth, coated in your saliva.

Jing yuan smiled at you, blood rushing to his cock at the soft tone of your voice. His fingers slid into your hair as a sense of triumph washed over him.

"You're doing so well." Jing yuan replied, his voice gruffier than usual. His grip on your tightened as he slid his cock back into your mouth deeper. You gagged at his sudden action, jerking forward. Your fingers dug into his thighs as he forced you to take his entire length into your mouth. His smell crept over you, flooding through your senses washing over you as you felt his cock hit the back of your throat. He threw his head back as he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppy as he neared his high. The groans bouncing off the walls of his office. You could feel your mind blank out as he rocked you to and fro. Now this was really filthy wasn't it? Allowing him to use your mouth to get off like that. But it was quiet the sight for you too, to look up at the general and see his head thrown back and his half-clad chest heaving. You felt your pussy squeeze at the sight. The unyielding lion so easily coming undone.

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and he pulled out suddenly, groaning as he came over your clothed chest. Thick roped of cum spilled over your blouse, he leaned down to kiss up your tears, wiping away the dribbling juices with the palm of his hand.

"My," He mused, eyeing your soiled top, "we're gonna have to get rid of that now."

His touch was gentle, as his fingers pulled on the straps of your Armor. It fell apart atonce. The thin fabric doing nothing to hide your hardened nipples. he could practically smell the arousal and the sweat lining the inside of your uniform.

He bit your ear lightly and you squealed, jerking upwards. Your general held you in place, tone arm wrapped around your middle to firmly plant you where you were. Just the way his fingers brushed against your bare skin, made you hold your breath. Your heart hammered in your chest, the smallest of his touch sending heat pooling between your legs.

The nervousness of the situation making you dizzy. "G-general please." you whimpered out, his teasing touches getting a little too much for you. Every part of your body was so sensitive right now, you could feel the warmth of his body as he pressed into your back, the soft bump of his nose as he traced the line of your neck. Even his sweet breath against your ears as he grazed his teeth over your skin playfully. Everything was blistering hot, it was sending your mind spiralling and he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You couldn't tell if you were begging him to let you go or actually touch you more.

A moan escaped your lips as his calloused hands dug into your clothed breasts, his touch was still gentle, Jing yuan sighed, his nose burying in the crook of your neck.

"You do trust your general don't you?" He drawled out, curling his finger over the hem of your shirt, before sliding it up. You yelped as your perky breasts slipped out eagerly.

Jing yuan was nothing short of gleeful to see your breasts, spilling out of your flimsy top. He liked how they fit in his palms, skin around your nipples hardening under his touch.

"Spread your legs wider." he commanded. Your body jumped out of instinct, instantly embarrassed as he chuckled at your reaction. 

"I thought I had someone innocent under my command." He hummed out, trailing his fingers down to your clothed pussy. 

His fingers traced the wet spot, the ghost of that touch making you squirm under him. 

"I didn't know you were such a filthy slut to begin with." You felt yourself tighten around his fingers. Somehow this touch still felt sinful, you felt like you were being toyed with. Held down between his legs as the general's fingers played with your cunt. Being spread out like that in his lap, facing the door, the slightest movement outside his closed door made you jump. He hooked his thumb around the band of your panties, slipping them off. The cold air kissed your folds, sending thrills of anticipation to you core. 

"General- w-we shouldn't." you tried again, your words stuck in your throat as his fingers brushed against your bare clit, dragging out deliciously slow circles.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?" he drawled out, his thumb rolled over your clit as you pressed down a moan "You see how nice and swollen this is doll?" 

"that means you like it." he said,

His words made your core flutter around his digits. "N-no that's not-" you sobbed out.

He chuckled as you squirmed from the pleasure, "You're sopping wet for your general," he continued, his fingers slipping from the slick that coated your folds. "Are you really this excited to feel your general's fingers inside you?" 

Jing Yuan was having too much fun, letting himself get carried away. He couldn't help it he found everything about you pretty, the sloppy folds, dripping from how he touched you before. The swollen clit, just begging for his attention and your little whimpers as he while he whispered nasty things to you. He really was a sick man, he admitted, playing with his subordinate's sweet cunt and liking it so much.

It wasn't soon before you felt the pleasure coil in your stomach, this slow torturous drags of his fingers, pulling your first orgasm out of you. 

Jing Yuan groaned as you tightened around his fingers, spasming as your orgasm washed over you. Tears of humiliation pricked your eyes as the high finally wore off, Jing Yuan cupped your face, slick covered fingers digging into your cheek as he kissed up your tears.

You were so sweet under him, just as he has imagined you would be. At this point he had basically pinned you down and had his way with your body. And still you looked up at him pliant and teary eyed, as if you were still begging for her beloved general's approval.

You felt his teeth graze your neck, as the realisation of what had actually happened crashed into you. Your body throbbed with desire, wanting to taste and feel more of him. 

"Good job" he murmured against your neck, the intensity of the whole situation making you tremble against him. He wasn't quite done with you yet, but you knew that like a cat only playing with its mouse, he'll just let you go today.

Make you squirm away from him in the lobbies and have you buckle under his gaze until he's had a fill of the fear. And keep you wondering when he would pounce next.

"Please, have a seat." he said, gesturing for you to sit before him.

You gulped as he placed the drink before you, the greenish liquid sitting in the sake cup suspiciously. Jing yuan's amber eyes pinned on your frame, waiting.

"It's just rice wine." he hummed out.

Liar.

It was his patience with things like this that truly chilled you. His awareness of how you didn't really have any other choice but to do as he said. But he just liked to play it as if he was being a gentleman and giving you agency. While the truth was that you could show hesitation, reluctance even, but it didn't matter. 

Your fingers dug into your skirts nervously as you did sit down. For wine, the drink smelly sickly sweet. Its faint scent wafting through the room, it already made your head hurt. His eyes crinkled in approval at your action, "I'm sure you'll find the drink agreeable." He said.

Your core throbbed painfully as you watched him coil his slender fingers around the bottle to pour himself another drink. Well, at least he was drinking it himself too.

Reluctantly, you brought it to your lips, taking a nervous sip of the liquid. It was watery, somewhat sweet yet tardy. You missed his smile as you drained your glass, it wasn't bad at all. It almost felt like you had tasted it before.

The taste was familiar. 

It was the same taste you had woken up with curling in your mouth every time you went on the travels with him. It was what had made you wake up dazed and confused.

Your stomach dropped as the room spun around you. The pillows felt so soft, sinking like clouds under your weight as the general pushed himself over you.

He pinned you under him as he brushed off the strands of wry hair from your face, whispering sweet things against your skin, as a strange haze made your head feel heavy. 

His thumb ran along your puffy lip, pressing his mouth over yours. His tongue felt hot and warm against yours, the sweet-liquid rolling down your chin. The kiss started innocently, only to become messy and hungry, growing more and more needy by the minute. You tried to keep up feverishly, the softest of his touches seemed to sear into your skin, sending your core throbbing. You mewled out under him, a strange haze covering your mind.

You had expected it to be intoxicating, but you hadn't expect it to be an actual aphrodisiac. Your body would already get sensitive under his touch, but this made you feel like your skin was on fire. His kisses trailed down your jaw, fingers sliding under your shirt to feel more of your skin. It wasn't enough. His calloused had reaching down to wipe your chin, 

"More~" You pleaded out, begging him to touch and feel you more. Your mind continued to grow foggier, 

He cupped your face pulling it forward to kiss your face again, you murmured against his lips as he pulled away, "If I knew you'd be this willing, I would have had you awake the first time." 

Jing Yuan tipped the bottle over you, letting the drink pour down your chest. You squirmed as it felt cool against your burning skin. His tongue dragged up along your skin to taste you, pulling at your sensitive skin, fingers reaching up to knead into the softness of your breasts. 

Jing yuan chuckled, "Did you wait for this so much doll?" He cooed out, watching as you arched your back rubbing your clothed core against his bulge. 

He pressed you forward forcing you to present to him and the drug made you stumble face first into the pillows.  "How awful of me." he feigned, lifting up one leg until he pressed your knee into your shoulder. You buried your face in your fingers from the embarrassment. The position just completely exposed you to him.

"General, please." you mewled out,

You yelped as he kissed up your cunt lightly, trying to not get carried away.  All he wanted to do was flatten his tongue against your folds and eat you out until you were crying. But his cock was painfully hard in his trousers, and he finally had you where he wanted, it would be too cruel not getting to fuck you. 

"Do you really want your general to ruin you like this?" His eyes narrowed, voice tinged with a hostility that was nothing like him. Your breath hollowed as you replied, "Y-yes."

"Beg."

Your legs kicked out impatiently, the need to feel him inside you now starting to hurt, "Please fill me up" you begged him, "Make me your slut General, please- please." you babbled out. 

The tip bumped into your entrance and you yelped out his name, he slid his cock up against your folds, digging into your throbbing clit before sliding down towards your entrance again.

His cock collecting your slick as he continued to tease you still. "Such a pretty cunt," He murmured,

His cock fit in you snugly, stretching you out. You moaned out, fingers digging into the pillows as he forced his length inside. 

Your mind couldn't comprehend anything other than how good it felt. The slow drag of his cock against your walls, the aphrodisiac heightening your pleasure. In the end he was generous with sex too. He fucked you rough and hard as it went on, pulling you on all fours before him.

His fingers dug into your hair, yanking you back so that you slammed back into him, his cock burying hilt deep with each thrust. You could feel him twitch inside you, moulding you to his shape. You tightened around his girth as he continued to whisper sinful things. Expressing how many times he had decided to take you in your sleep, wanting for you to wake up only to find him buried into you. The pleasure continued to stack up as he continued to fuck you, his own breath hitching as he neared his high.

He jerked you back into him, his voice heavy, "Should I just knock you up doll?" he growled out, "fill you up, so everyone knows you're my cum slut?"

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of the situation suddenly hitting you, "No- wait general-" you pleaded, but his grip around your waist just tightened. Holding you in place as his hot cum painted your walls.

Your slick mixed with the general's cum dribbled down from your cunt, the burning now a faint throb. You squeezed your thighs together, despite the soreness between your legs you still felt your pussy throb with a needy ache.

His fingers dug into the meat of your ass, pulling you back towards him until his cock pressed into your entrance. He groaned as he bottomed into you again, burying his face in your hair. His pace turned slower, thrusts getting deeper as he fucked his cum back into you, forming a ring around his girth. You couldn't help but curl your toes as his length dragged against your tight walls again, wanting to fill you up once more.

Your legs trembled as you sank into the pillows, giving yourself to him entirely, maybe, if you're nice enough your general would even fuck you to sleep.

What is with me and writing about crazed sex with powerful manipulative men???

ɿ(｡･ɜ･)ɾ Ⓦⓗⓨ ɿ(｡･ɜ･)ɾ

This was supposed to be first of the kinktober series and it ended up being all i could milk out :/

#afab reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail #jingyuan x reader #jingyuan smut #tw cnc mention #tw dubcon

[sturniozo]

Our Lips Are Sealed II

Masterlist

AN: Hey guys this is just a quick note to tell you, I decided to make y/n in this story autistic. As an autistic person I haven’t seen a lot of autism representation in x reader fics for the triplets. I’ve seen headcannons and one shots but not full fics with multiple parts, so here is one!

Anyways, enjoy! I love you guys so much! xx - Angel

Nate always brings me along when mom’s gone and he’s hanging out with his friends. I don’t mind it, I’m not much for making friends of my own. I didn’t really know how to talk to people. It mostly made me uncomfortable to start conversations, or keep them going.

And it was different. Everything was different. It seemed to be so easy for Nate to be friends with everyone, why was it so hard for me? I remember talking to people, and they’d give each other the look. That look for just a moment. I knew what they were thinking too. They were thinking I talk too much, or that I was too loud or too excited.

It just came so easy to Nate. But he never made me feel bad about it. He’s my big brother, and he always looked out for me. That’s why he brings me along with him to hang out with his friends. He knows. He knows how hard it is for me. He knows how to make it better.

So here I am, sitting on three of a stone fence with Nate, Nick, Chris, and Matt. I listen to them speak to each other, not contributing to the conversation. Seemingly lost in my own world as I just listen.

“What do you think, y/n?” Chris asks me. My head lifts up from looking at my feet.

“I-“ I stammer. They were talking about who would sleep in what tents during three camping trip.

“There’s no way I’m letting y/n sleep alone, I’m sorry.” Nate says while he waves his hands around in a ‘no’ sort of way.

“Then what do you suggest?” Matt asks him. “The tents are only big enough for two people each. Someone’s sleeping alone.”

“Not me, I can’t do that.” Chris says with a laugh.

“I’m not sleeping alone in a tent in the middle of nowhere!” Nick says. “No way.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping alone.” Matt says.

Nate shakes his head. “Not y/n.”

“Who’s gonna share a tent with her then?” Chris asks.

“I think you guys are forgetting mom…” I say. “Our mom will be there” I look at Nate.

“Mom already told me she’s going to be alone in her tent, she’s got the air mattress since the ground is hard on her back.” Nate says. “She told me to sort it out with you guys.”

“We can get a bigger tent and all of us can spend the weekend in the same tent.” Nick suggests.

Nate nods. “I’ll ask mom.”

“We can get the tent.” Chris says.

“Camping grounds only allow one tent one each area.” I chime in. “Mom will need to know there’s only going to be two tents instead of four.”

Nate nods. “I’ll just need to tell mom she doesn’t need to register for four camp areas.”

“Sounds good to me.” Matt says.

“I really did not want to sleep alone.” Nick laughs.

I go back to just listening to them speak for a short while. I stare at my shoes that hand over the edge of the stone fence.

Chris sits next to me, and on the other side of me is Nate, then Nick, then Matt. Chris scotches a little closer to me, leaning over me to take the joint from Nate that they had lit up just a moment ago.

Nate always passes over me during the smoke sessions. He keeps it away from me, not as an ‘Y/n isn’t going to smoke’ thing, but more of a protective brother thing. I have asthma, and I’m a minor. Nate’s just looking out for me.

Chris blows the smoke out from his lungs in the opposite direction as me. He hands the joint back to Nate. “Is anyone else hungry?” Chris asks as smoke flows out past his lips as he talks.

“Yeah.” Nate says as he passes the blunt to Nick.

Chris jumps off the fence. Matt follows, doing the same. Chris stands in front of me. “What help?” He asks me.

Before I can say anything Nate jumps down. He takes my hand and helps me down off the fence. Chris steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets.

Nick finishes the blunt and throws it on the ground, stomping on it. Chris puts an arm around my shoulders. “Did you have a preference where we eat?” He asks me.

I shake my head, looking down to hide the blush on my cheeks from anyone’s view. Chris lowers his arm from me as we walk to Matt’s car.

Chris opens the door for me and I get into the backseat. Nate and Nick pile in behind me. Chris gets into the passenger side and Matt in the drivers side.

“Where are we going?” Matt asks as he begins to drive.

“Anywheres good with me.” Nate says.

“I could go for a burger.” Chris says. “What do you think, y/n?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

Matt pulls into a burger place drive through.

“Do you just want your usual?” Nate asks me. Like he even had to ask that, he knows I’ve never changed my order at any restaurant since my first visit to any of them.

“Yeah.” I say and nod.

~

Matt had found a place to park in the parking lot of the mall closest to the burger place. After eating, which we all got out of the crowded van to do, we sat on the cement ground talking once again.

The sun had already set and the air was getting colder. I didn’t bring a jacket, it’s summer and I didn’t think we’d be out for so long. But when Chris saw me shiver just once-

“Hey,” he whispers to me. I look at him and he’s holding out the flannel he was just wearing.

“Hm?” I look at him. He opens it up for me to put on. “I-I’m okay.” I shake my head. Chris laughs softly and drapes the flannel over my shoulders. “What about you, you’re just in a tank top now.” I whisper back to him.

“I guess I’ll just have to hold you close.” He shrugs and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him.

I look away from him, my face down as I bite my lip where no one can see my blush. I fiddle with the hem of the flannel as I listen to their conversation, Chris joining back in as if he never had his attention on anything else.

Their conversation goes on, seemingly no one notices Chris’s flannel on me or his arm around me. I try to ignore it myself. But after what feels like forever, when I was finally getting comfortable, Nate notices.

“Are you cold?” Nate asks me. My head snaps up.

I stammer for a second before shaking my head.

“Well not anymore, I can see that.” Nate says as he gets up and sits by me, pulling me to him instead of Chris. Nate looks at Chris as he notices the flannel. “You’re not cold?” He asks Chris.

“Nah, I’m fine.” Chris says.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” Nate asks me.

“I- I wasn’t. Chris just-“

“Ah, I got a text from mom.” Matt says. “She wants us home. I’ll drop you guys off, come on.” He gets up.

I stand up, taking off Chris’s flannel to give back to him but he presses his hand to my back to stop me.

“You’re good, don’t take it off.” He whispers to me so Nate doesn’t hear.

I stop and get into the back of the van with Nate and Nick. Nate holds a clenched jaw the whole time on the way home. I stare at my hands, silent.

Matt parks in our driveway, and Nate and I get out. Before I could even think of it, Nate pulls the flannel off my shoulders and hands it to Chris.

Nate waves goodbye to his friends as Matt pulls out of the drive way. As soon as they’re out of sight he drops his hand and looks at me.

“Did you ask for his flannel?” He asks. I shake my head. “He just gave it to you?” He asks and I nod. Nate’s jaw clenches again and walks inside the house. I run behind him to keep up.

“Are you mad?” I ask.

“Not at you, don’t worry.” Nate says as he closes the door behind me. He turns around to look at me. “I told you, don’t fall for any of his tricks. Chris’s isn’t a dating guy, he’s a hook up guy. I know you, I know him.” Nate puts his hand on my shoulder. “He’s not looking at you as someone to be with, you know that don’t you?”

I nod.

“Good.” Nate takes his hand off my shoulder and starts to head up the stairs. “I think mom’s asleep.” He whispers.

I creep up the stairs silently and get to my bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as I can. I collapse on my bed, burying my face in my pillow.

I understand Nate is my older brother, and is just trying to keep me safe, whatever that applies to in his eyes. But sometimes I wish he understood. I don’t need an older brother watching my every move.

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