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#I don't need more grey hairs than I already have
mytearsricochvtt · 2 days
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strawberry kisses || a.putellas
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not entirely sure if i like this or not, have had this idea for a while and finally got round to writing it while i was watching greys anatomy lol also not proof read so very sorry if there is any mistakes xo
strawberry kisses || a.putellas
alexia loved to kiss you, she would tell you that it was just because she loved kissing you, but you knew it was because of the lip balm that you wore. alexia didn't like the taste of strawberries a year ago, but that all changed the day that she kissed you and your lips tasted of strawberries. since then she has demanded that you never change your lip balm.
that was until you couldn't find it, you went to put it on in the morning after you had done your skincare but when you went to go get it, it wasn't siting on your bedside table where you thought you had put it before you went to bed.
you had searched high and low for it, trying to rack your brain to think where else you maybe had placed it. but wherever you looked it wasn't anywhere to be found.
lucky for you alexia had left an hour earlier for training, always liking to be the first person there to go over a few training drills on her own, while you would rather have an extra hour in bed. so you were hopeful that you would be able to find it before you would have to start getting ready, but after thirty minutes of looking and still no luck, you thought it would be better to stop looking for now and get changed, crossing your fingers that it would spring to mind where you had left it when you weren't looking for it.
but you of course weren't so lucky. so you had to quickly gather all the things you need for training and hurry out the door. silently hoping that maybe you had left it there instead.
_
when you arrived at training and went to the changing room all the girls bar your girlfriend were already changed and ready to head out. irene seeing your confused look told you that alexia was in the gym, which you thanked her for before you quickly changed into your training clothes. taking a quick look around the room trying to see if your lip balm was laying around here. but after looking everywhere you could think of and still not finding it, you gave up any hope of ever finding.
you let out a sigh of frustration, running your hands through your hair before you made your way to the gym with the rest of the girls.
you caught up with mapi and ingrid making polite conversation with the two, but after seeing you lick your lips every couple seconds of trying to hydrate them, ingrid held out her own lip balm for you to use.
"seems like you could use this." she told you, giving you one of her smiles that made her eyes crinkle.
"you have no idea. i lost my favourite lip balm and i get find it anywhere!" you ranted, applying the balm that she gave you. "oh, i like the flavour of this one!"
"it is raspberry jelly, you can keep it!" she told you, when you tried to hand it back to her. "seems like you need it a lot more, plus i have another one in my locker!" she then added on once she saw the look mapi gave her.
"thank you! i don't have a back up." you smiled, giving the norwegian a quick side hug.
"you don't have a back up? or a back up for your back up?" the girl questioned, making you frown at her. "a what? that's a thing?" you asked, making mapi let out a laugh.
but before either of the girls could answer you, you arrived at the gym where the rest of the girls were, making you realise that the three of you had taken a lot longer than you thought.
as soon as you walked into the room you instantly spotted alexia doing some light exercises with patri, you stared at her for a few moments, taking in the way she looked while she was doing the leg stretches and how good she looked while doing them.
you saw her eyes glance around the room, you assume she was looking for you as not even three seconds later her eyes land on you. you saw her say something to patri, before she stood up and made her way towards you.
you didn't get a chance to greet her properly before you felt her grab your hips and pull you into her, pressing her lips against your own, it didn't last as long as you would have wanted, as she pulled away before you could count.
when you opened your eyes again, you saw the confused look that had taken over her face, a slight pout on her lips. "you will gets lines," you reminded her, gently running your pointed finger over her forehead.
she tilted her head slightly before she kissed you again, this one lasted a little longer than the last one, but she once again pulled away too quickly for your liking.
"what's wrong?" you asked her, when you saw the look of confusion on her face once again.
"you changed the flavour of your lip balm."
"yeah, i lost the strawberry one and could not find it anywhere! so, ingrid gave me her spare one, but apparently i should have a back up, and a back up for the back up."
"you don't have a back up?" alexia questioned, "since when was a back up a thing? and why am i now just finding out about it?"
"what flavour is it?" your girlfriend asked, "raspberry jelly. why? don't you like it?" your frowned, "it's not that i don't like it, i just liked the strawberry one a lot better."
"i am sure it will grow on you just like the strawberry one did," you said, lightly scratching the back of her neck. "i love the strawberry one though! Era mi parte favorita de besarte,” she pouted.
you let out a small gasp, "you mean to tell me that the only reason you kissed me that much was because of the taste of my lips?" you joked, making alexia chuckle.
"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury!" she told you, placing a handful of kisses to your lips. "i kissed you because i love kissing you, and because of the taste of your lips." she joked, "but seriously, you need to get more of the strawberry one, i like that one a lot more!"
"hmm, maybe i will just keep using this one."
"then maybe i won't kiss you as much."
"then you will be missing out, because of my lips are fucking amazing! y'know, maybe i should find someone else who will appreciate the taste of my lips." you joked, unwrapping her arms from around your waist, pretending to look around the room.
but before you could do anything else, you felt two strong hands grab your hips, pulling you flush against her front. "is that the best you could do?"
"i heard ingrid is a good kisser, maybe i should go and kiss her instead, i am sure mapi won't mind-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before you felt ale's lips pressed against yours, one of her hands found home on your hip while the other slide up your side until her hand rested on your neck.
she didn't choke you, just kissed you so deep you forgot whose air you were breathing.
you were thanking god that you were stood in a place where no one else could see you.
“Nadie más puede hacerte sentir como yo cuando te beso, mi amor”
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akatusk · 1 year
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building on those tags I have SO much figured out about vyrthur & gelebor that is. Not canon
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cutielando · 9 days
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stream ~ lando norris
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Summary: Now that the winter break is finally here, Lando's home and ready to get back to streaming. Only, the fans want to see you on the stream with him too.
Words: 1.1k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
"Babe, do you need anything else? I'm about to go stream for a bit" Lando asked you as he was getting ready to stream, wanting to make sure you didn't need him for anything.
"No, I'm okay. I'm gonna watch my show for a bit while you stream and then make us some dinner" you smiled and pecked his lips, making him smile and depart to his streaming set up.
Now that the winter break had finally arrived, Lando wanted to get back to interacting with his fans before you two would begin your travel calendar that would take up almost the entire break.
And what better way to interact with his fans than hopping on Twitch to stream?
"Are you gonna watch?" Lando yelled from his chair moments before he went live.
"Always!" you yelled back, opening the app on your phone to watch his stream in parallel.
You settled into your cocoon of blankets on the sofa, your show playing quietly in the background while Lando's stream was on-going on your phone.
Watching him stream and interact with his fans was one of your favorite things about him. Even with his busy schedule, he made sure he made time to interact with his fans as often as he possibly could.
It didn't always go to plan, but Lando made efforts to make sure he wasn't neglecting anyone, not you and certainly not his fans.
"Where is Y/N? She's in the living room watching her show, she's been obsessed with Grey's Anatomy for a while now. She always ignores me to watch it" Lando said, chuckling once he saw the comments defending you.
You smiled hearing him laugh, loving the fact that his fans would always ask him about you whenever you weren't on the stream with him.
"Don't out me" you commented, making the chat explode once they noticed you in the comment section.
"Hey, babe. Nice to see you giving me some attention now that I've called you out for it" he said once he managed to find your comment.
"Y/N, come on stream we miss youuuu😭😭"
"Lando, please convince Y/N to come on the stream with you"
"We want Y/N"
The comments were overflowing with demands that you join the stream, something that would happen almost every time he would go live.
"Babe, come here for a second. Everyone is ignoring me because they want to see you" Lando shouted from the room, making you smile and pause your show as you made your way to the stream room.
His voice tried to sound annoyed, but you secretly knew he loved having you on stream with him. He loved seeing the fans interacting with you, wanting to talk to you about anything really. He knew how much pressure you were under with dating him, so he thanked God that his fans loved you as much as he did and supported your relationship fully.
You stopped in the doorway, watching him for a moment with a smile on your face. When he noticed you on the camera, he turned around and smiled at you, outstretching his hand towards you.
"Come here" you made your way over to him, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek before you diverted your attention to the chat.
"Hi chat" you greeted them, seeing all the comments freaking out over your presence.
Lando frowned a little when he saw the excitement towards Y/N, his presence seemingly already forgotten.
"I think the chat likes you more than me" Lando grumbled from behind you, making you giggle and ruffle his hair.
"That's not true. They love you just as much" you said, but the comments from the chat weren't helping your case.
"We love seeing Y/N on streams"
"MOTHER IS HERE"
"Y/N needs to be on stream more, Lando don't keep her away from the camera"
You smiled sheepishly back at Lando, who just rolled his eyes but couldn't keep the smile that was threatening to break out on his face at bay.
"What should we do?" he asked, typing away on the computer.
"I could stay and watch you play some F1, if you want. I don't think the chat wants to see me make a fool of myself because I such at it so badly" you proposed, trying to read the chat for any reactions.
You certainly didn't expect to see everyone demanding that you play the game yourself, the fans already somewhat bored with watching Lando, an actual Formula 1 driver, play it constantly.
"Looks like the chat wants precisely that" your boyfriend joked, beginning to set up the game for you.
"But I suck, they're just gonna make fun of me like you do when I play" you whined, knowing you would quickly become a meme on Twitter due to how bad you were at the game.
"I don't make fun of you" he defended, but one look from you made him smile innocently.
"It's going to be fun, you'll see" he said, the game set up for you to start playing.
You sighed, but agreed nonetheless. You got more comfortable on your boyfriend's lap, his arms wrapped around your waist to hold you against his body. 
Exactly as you had predicted, you did an awful job, coming in the last positions in almost every race you had attempted. Lando had tried helping you many times, but you were far too stubborn to accept his help with anything. 
The chat was having a blast seeing you so focused, but the thing that got their attention every time was the way Lando would look at you, his eyes so star-struck like you had just hung the moon and stars for him.
"Okay, I think it's enough embarrassment for one day" you declared once you had finished once again at the back of the grid, for the 10th time in a row.
"You were getting the hang of it towards the end" Lando tried cheering you up, rubbing his hands on your waist.
"You have to say that, you're my boyfriend" you pouted, turning sideways on his lap and resting your head on his shoulder.
Lando spent a half an hour more on stream, just chatting with the fans. Once he decided to finish up, he noticed that you had fallen asleep on his lap, your breathing even and your eyes closed softly.
He smiled to himself and whispered a goodbye to the stream before scooping you up in his arms carefully and bringing you to your shared bed.
"Goodnight, my love" he whispered, kissing your forehead and tucking you into bed.
You mumbled something, drifting back to your deep sleep.
Safe to say, the stream had tired both of you out, Lando falling asleep while cuddling you as soon as his head hit the pillow.
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familyvideostevie · 3 months
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day after tomorrow
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joel miller x reader
summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him. 
warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k
A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3
___
He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff. 
"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill. 
Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently. 
"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.
The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch. 
"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights." 
"You remembered?" 
He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."
It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.
"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."
This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return. 
The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his. 
"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says. 
You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping. 
Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.
"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.
"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."
"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"
He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.
"I'll be fine, Joel."
"Hm."
He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.
"What are you up to this week?" you ask. 
He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."
"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like. 
He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"
You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit. 
It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.  
"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his. 
When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away. 
"Thank you for --"
"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says. 
You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"
His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again. 
"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."
"Thanks for the tea --"
"Now, what did I just say?"
You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this. 
"Safe flight, sweetheart."
You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel." 
6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?
You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange. 
6:05 am: don't text and drive!
He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift. 
6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land
6:06 am: will do. have a good day!
The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel. 
You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan. 
"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.
That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around. 
And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough. 
But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away. 
7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?
He texts back immediately. 
7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.
You laugh and do as he says. 
The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public. 
You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus. 
But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.
10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim
That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale. 
You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!
And then there's Joel.
Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward. 
It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.
"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs. 
"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."
"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder. 
"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."
Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly. 
Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him. 
"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think. 
"You hungry?"
"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"
"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."
"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"
Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that. 
"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.
You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.
"Thank you for coming to get me," you say. 
Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.
"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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anundyingfidelity · 5 months
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FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader
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Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.
Word count: 3.9k.
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.
Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!
GEN MASTERLIST!
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It's harder to stay...
Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.
The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.
Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.
"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.
Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"
The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.
"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.
"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.
"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.
During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.
"So it's personal..."
"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.
"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
2029, Sacred Timeline
When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.
But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.
You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.
At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.
Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.
He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.
So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.
Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.
The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.
"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.
You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.
"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.
All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."
"Loki, I saw you die..."
Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.
"I know you did, my love."
You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.
And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.
"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"
Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.
"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."
"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."
"What?" you mumbled.
Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?
"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.
Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"
He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Secret Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."
You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.
"Your death was supposed to be then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.
Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.
Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.
"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"
"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.
You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."
Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"
"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."
"Or you could do both."
"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."
"It's not your fault."
"I know, Loki."
"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."
You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."
Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.
You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.
"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."
He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."
"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."
"No,I can't-"
"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."
Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.
"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."
And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."
Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.
When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.
"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.
Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."
His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.
You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."
"Thank you, love."
Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.
"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.
"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.
So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.
Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.
"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.
"I love you too."
Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.
The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.
So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.
He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.
Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.
At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.
"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."
"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.
"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.
"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.
"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."
And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.
You were right. Mobius was a good friend.
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pro-crastinate17 · 6 months
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hello!! so im going to try to make a disability inclusive picrew and id like some help making sure i include as much as i can!
the person would be seated and pretty much all of the body would be visible. ill post it when im done!
its mostly focused on phys disabilities, bc i so rarely can find picrews w good diverse mobility aid options, but ofc im including non phys disabilities as well! (sorry for clunky phrasing, im unclear on the preferred term for non phys disabilities so thats the term ive been using)
what i have so far is below the read more. be warned it is a very long list! (every option/category of option i could think of)
if you think i missed something, please recommend it!!! (related note: id much rather get recommended something that is already on the list than miss something!)
category: head
various jaw shapes 
missing jaw 
crooked/misaligned jaw
category: skin
wide range of skin tones, including white/extremely pale (albino) 
freckles, lots of scar variation (including burns), vitiligo, acne, facial hair, eye bags, other skin conditions (trying to make a list)
breathing tubes, masks, bandages 
bindis 
category: eyes 
blue, grey, green, hazel, medium brown, dark brown, black, red 
heterochromia options 
lazy eye options 
clouded eye options 
closed eyes that look like winking and closed eyes that don't 
missing eyes
category: mouth 
general expressions 
variations for color 
variations for cleft lip, scars, facial paralysis 
category: ears 
ear size, shape, missing ears, deformed ears
category: eye/ear accessories 
earrings, earplugs, hearing aids, bone anchored hearing aids, headphones, earmuffs (modifications for missing/deformed ears), cochlear implant
glasses, sunglasses, blue light glasses, eye patches, eye masks/bandages 
category: nose 
various shapes & sizes, bumpy noses, deformed noses  
category: eyebrows 
lots of expression options, thickness options, color options (including white) 
one missing, scarring, eyebrow slits 
category: body 
body types: very skinny, skinny, fat, very fat (options for muscularity too if i can figure out how)
body hair, scarring, freckles, tattoos   
range of missing limbs, deformed limbs, prosthetics   
diabetes patch 
category: hair 
wide range of hairstyles, bangs, and colors 
patchy hair, scalp scarring, receding hairline 
category: head coverings
range of hats, hair accessories, headbands, bandanas    
range of hijabs, turbans, kippot (+ more variation in cultural headwear if theres space)
head bandages 
category: clothes
range of styles and colors 
adaptable to body types (+ breasts), missing/deformed limbs 
category: shoes 
range of styles 
adaptable to body types, missing foot/feet 
category: hand accessories  
gloves, bracelets, rings, nails, wrist braces, splint rings
range of types, adaptable to missing/deformed hands 
category: pins 
range of queer pride flags 
pronoun pins 
animals, fandoms/characters (def muppets, feel free to recommend characters and i'll try to include some of the most popular ones) 
general disability pride, cripplepunk, madpunk, sign union flag, & pin (for systems), specific disabilities (need some help with these, send me specific flags and i’ll include them!) 
category: seat 
chair, manual wheelchair, power chair, spinny chair, throne, rollator, electric scooter 
category: mobility aids 
cane, white cane, crutches (underarm/axillary and forearm), rollator, walker (with and without wheels), electric scooter  
joint braces (shoulder, elbow, knee, ankle, back, others?), joint tape, compression garments 
category: other disability aids
AAC tablets, word cards, glucose monitor, sunflower lanyard, inhaler, medical id bracelet
stoma bag, central line catheter, picc line catheter, heart monitor, breathing tube, feeding tube (nasal and abdominal), tracheostomy 
stim toys/chewelry, stuffed animals, phone 
service animals
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actual-changeling · 5 months
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Aziraphale sees Crowley standing next to his their car and he hesitates; this is his last chance, the last possible moment to change his mind about leaving.
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Do you think he feels the sunshine on his hands, against his stomach, and remembers how warm Crowley had been in his arms? How warm he had felt beneath his palms even through several layers of fabric?
How for the first time in his existence his body had felt complete, like there was no longer something— someone missing?
Do you think he sees him standing in the sun, all shining fire-red and hidden golden eyes, and regrets not sliding his hand to the back of his neck, up into his hair? Do you think he regrets not taking the chance to feel it silken soft and familiar between his fingers?
Do you think he remembers all the times they enjoyed a warm, sunny day together and the way the star seems to remember that Crowley had put its siblings into the sky? Do you think he remembers rays of sunlight caressing his cheekbones and wishes it had been his fingertips instead?
'Anything you need?' the Metatron asks him, and he is still looking at Crowley with the sun on his skin.
I need you, he thinks, and even though his eyes are hidden away, he knows Crowley is looking at him.
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Do you think Aziraphale remembers the kiss, remembers the love he could taste on his tongue, the six millennia of do that, please, kiss me, the slow, painful minute of do that again, please, right now?
(The realization that he won't.)
He almost stays. Almost. But the Metatron is already walking away, and he looks at Crowley again, looks past sunset conversations and sunrise breakfasts and the heart-shaped star in Crowley's chest, and feels his pain.
(Their pain.)
Do you think that's why he leaves anyway? Not just because heaven needs fixing but because all that pain, all the hurt they caused each other, can't have been for nothing?
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I can't leave him— no, I don't want to leave him.
No.
No, I want to go back to him.
Do you think he takes his anger and holds onto it until it burns his palm because it is easier to be angry at Crowley, at himself, than to think about everything they just took from each other? Everything they just lost?
Everything they could have been?
Aziraphale takes the memory of sunshine on his skin (Crowley's lips on his) and locks it away in a golden cage made out of faith; faith that Crowley will be there when he comes back.
Once he does (because he will, he will, he has to), there will be sunshine and warmth and Crowley, and they will finally be able to love each other with the sun and the whole universe as their witness.
No more shadows or shades of grey. Just the two of them in the light where they belong.
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becca-e-barnes · 2 months
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The need that I have for early morning, tender sex with Dbf!bucky that gets a little frantic and really passionate 😵‍💫
Especially if you tend to drift apart in your sleep. It feels so much nicer to curl up against him again the next morning, stealing some of his heat and enjoying the way that he smells so familiar to you now.
You can't help but feel a softness in your chest when he sleepily pulls you closer, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head with his eyes still closed. If nothing else, you feel incredibly safe with your bare chest pressed to his and your limbs tangled together comfortably.
The sunlight has just managed to creep through a gap in between the curtains, illuminating the few grey hairs peppered across your partner's hairline and you swear he's never looked more beautiful.
He's more awake than he'd lead you to believe though. His eyes are barely even open before he's tilting your chin up, making it easier to capture your lips with his.
"Good morning." He mumbles in his deep morning voice when his lips part from yours.
"Hi." You can't help but smile, wiggling your body against the bulge in his underwear. "It's a great morning."
He can't help but roll his eyes at your enthusiasm.
"Didn't I take good enough care of you last night? You still want more." He pretends he's insulted but secretly, he's pretty damn pleased. You want him; plain and simple. You don't dress it up or play it off. Don't we all want to be wanted?
"See, that's the problem. You were too good to me last night. And now. I'm all worked up." You slip kisses to his neck and shoulders in between your sentences, hoping that it really drives your point home.
"You're a handful." Bucky teases, tilting your chin up once more, letting his lips collide with yours before allowing his tongue to do the same. It feels like his hands are all over your body at once, teasing and rubbing and gripping you, getting you even more worked up.
It's not long before he's got your leg hooked up over him and he's slipping his cock into you. The glide is that much easier given that he finished inside you just a few hours ago and the thought of that alone makes you even wetter.
Bucky's low groan as he slides into you is addictive. He's clearly still sensitive but it feels too good for either of you to stop now.
"Such a good girl. You take me so damn well." He's babbling already, eyes rolling back as he presses as deep inside you as possible, giving you a chance to take a breath before he starts to work your body in a way that no one else has ever managed.
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sl4sh3rsub · 8 months
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rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)
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rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum
a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting
if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection
he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft
so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf
mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace
he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<
if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie
if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste
he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back
michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you
he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support
you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you
he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length
mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him
he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily
he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them
mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly
michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard
when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls
oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night
in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it
mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you
his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation
he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(
michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started
mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3
initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction
his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability
will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over
for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately
he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily
if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out
michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3
he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust
he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy
while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)
michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length
when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???
michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)
he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down
mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time
he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold
he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen
when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him
his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds
he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you
he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin
mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death
the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(
on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock
myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips
if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<
michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure
michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out
he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while
if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils
he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks
if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions
he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3
occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace
his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<
his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs
michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets
he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace
after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours
if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well
whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could
he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)
if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you
the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin
cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work
if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over
of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole
whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him
he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)
his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants
michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back
he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress
once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat
his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets
leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy
his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs
he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)
teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth
once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears
sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes
michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you
his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him
due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery
loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside
sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access
the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his
_ _ _ _ _
mtf hcs
mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes
michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you
he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin
he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one
when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction
he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'
mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)
as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman
_ _ _ _ _
sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
3K notes · View notes
privitivium · 8 days
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holy shit what about a yandere sub gojo who’s popular and a playboy. like everyone wants him and he’s just being worshipped by them. But, he’s such a creepy fuck to reader, always looking and stalking them. just make him creepy asf
real tho. not even into jjk like that but... gotta share this with your fellow jjk fans. please heed my pinned post, this might be a one time thing, i am already as slow getting these out as it is lolz.,,,
ㅡyan creep "playboy" gojo satoru........
both amab,, cw;; manipulation, nc touching, stalkin, jerkin it, overall a fucking creep
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ㅡi feel so embarrassed writing for this guy,,, his blue eyes startle me immensely. intimidating !!
sub creep gojo, a playboy... observing, rather than making the moves like one would think. watching, studying you... stealing all your fucking miscellaneous shit... every so often stealing something of value - mere clothes is all. just to hold n cuddle into ... nothing too perverted. friends, obviously noticing where his stare would flit to, giving him the confidence he needed ! ooc, a little... but imagining this guy as shy to befriend you but still perving on you is a lovely thought imo
sub creep gojo who,,, touches on you once he gets the confidence. accidentally, of course. hes so clumsy, right??? hey, dont glare at him... really, it was an accident. you just got too close to him-!! "ouh, whoops." snickering, playing it cool as he holds his hands up in defense as he brushed his groin against your ass - merely walking too close n getting a whiff of your natural aroma...,,, totally not weird. you dont hold it against him as he wanted - wanting you to make a fucking mess of him and humilate him,,, but it seems ur just a little too... stoic about it. hmph. popping up literally everywhere you are out in publicㅡhey, hes not following you, just happen to be in the same area, silly.. dont get so big headed that the playboy is getting so close to you !
sub creep gojo... in his own time, all alone in his room. pervs on you to the max. simply. riding a fat fucking dildo that he knows cant compare to the real thing, having to jerk off while huffing one of ur shirts held to his nose - reminiscing about catching a glimpse of ur soft cock through of course, grey sweatpants... hes embarrassed how fast he cums - of course, no one to witness... but imagining himself in a daydream accidentally cumming too quickly,,, how embarrassing would that be ! the renowned playboy ! gojo satoru ! cumming so fast !! he has to embrace this...
gojo, again, would still gather all your unused things - taking it upon himself to get close to you, as friends !! who wouldnt wanna be friends with him?!?!!! he's the coolest, kindest guy around - sure, a reputation, but... you just have to be charmed !!! but... he sees that you find him kinda weird n creepy, all standoffish when he tries to talk to you... all sad as he whines n nearly cries as he jerks off into a pair of stolen boxers from ur gym locker - its ur own fault, who leaves their underwear in their gym locker... hey, you mustve wanted him to find them right? ur just as a pervert as he is - ! probably even more, huh?!?!! delusional, as you don't quite pay attention to him - yet still seeing his white hair literally everywhere in the corner of your eye, you start to associate the color white with him, obviously. thinking of him rather oddly... mhm mhm mhmm!!!
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twllghts · 1 month
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monster among men — jj maybank & rafe cameron
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you're trapped between two men who like you, but who despise each other viscerally. beyond those hateful emotions, they have more in common than what they think... whether they agree or not.
pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader x rafe cameron
warnings: eventual dark!jj & dark!rafe, kook!reader, explicit sexual content, brief & non-graphic mention of physical fights, car stuff lol (i tried to be as accurate as i could), i'm not sure where this is going oops (we'll see).
word count: 3.5k
last time i watched obx was literally when s2 came out... apologies if locations don't correlate and if there are inconsistencies.
“Honey! Someone’s here for you!”
You groan and roll your eyes, tying the lace of your black converse. 
Who could it be? And at this hour — being up at 9 a.m. is already a feat for you, so for your friends… it’s a rare occasion that happens every blue moon (in other words; never). 
You don’t have a choice about waking up early in the morning anyway since you’re working at the country club. 
You pick up your tote bag and exit your bedroom, walking down the stairs to the entry where you’re met with none other than JJ Maybank. What a… cute surprise, you tell yourself. 
You glance toward the kitchen just in case your mother is eavesdropping, but she seems to be occupied with her cooking. With that in mind, you face up to JJ, who’s wearing a grey sweatshirt and his usual black shorts — always too big for him. 
“What’s up, JJ? You know I’m heading to work,” you quickly inform him, stepping outside and joining him, closing the door behind you. 
You go down the granite stairs that lead to the entrance door of your house, JJ following you to your truck — or rather your old dad’s truck he lent you because he was oh so tired of dropping you off at the country club.
“Yeah, but it’s gonna be quick,” he replies, standing in front of you to stop you in your tracks. He’s a bit destabilized by your eagerness to leave for the country club, but he won’t give up. “Would you listen?” he asks, raising up his eyebrows, wild strands of blond hair gracing the side of his face, his blue eyes locking with yours.
“I’m listenin’,” you assure him and cross your arms over your chest draped in a tube top, the straps of your yellow bikini visible.
“Well, you know when I helped you with your flat.”
He points to the back tire on the left side of your car and you can’t help the smile forming on your lips. He mirrors you, letting out a small laugh. 
“Yeah,” you answer, remembering when you were stuck at the beach, your tire partially flat, and how you were so stressed out about a random orange icon flashing on your dashboard (that you know now means that one of your tires is deflated). 
JJ was passing by and offered his help when he saw the scared expression on your face. He almost instantly noticed the flat, which you had no idea was there — lack of better judgment, you guess, or that you know straight up nothing about cars in general.
“I’ve talked about it with Pope and his father,” he begins, “and the cracks on your tires might be the reason why it deflates quite quickly.” 
You frown. This wasn’t the news that you needed… Stupid old truck. 
“But there are cracks on all of them…” 
He nods at that, giving you a sheepish smile. “I guess that one just deflates faster than the others. The rest of them seem fine.”
“... Yeah,” you sigh, “that’s bullshit. I could replace only this one, though, right?” You bite down on your lip and glance at JJ, hoping this isn’t such a big deal as it seems to be.
If only your father was home more often, you’re sure he’d have taken the matter in hands way sooner, but he has to be away every two weeks for work. 
So you basically have to manage everything on your own — your mom doesn’t have much knowledge about mechanics either. 
Thankfully, you have JJ, which you never thought he’d lend you a hand, but things change, don’t they?
“Huh, not really.” JJ shakes his head. “They’re too old, and weren’t used enough, so if you replace one, it’s gonna be… unbalanced, kind of. It’s not a good idea, in fact,” he explains to you.
“Right, okay. I can’t buy four tires. I’d have to tell my dad, but he’s not even here!” You whine, completely annoyed. 
“I could ask John B. to lend you his battery backup. You can inflate your tires and take their pressure with that little thing,” he kindly offers. You seriously don’t know what you’d do without him. “I’ll show you. And in any case, I can always offer you a ride whenever you want.”
“JJ,” you laugh, cracking a smile, “you can’t travel from The Cut to Figure Eight on your bike every time I have to go somewhere. I’m already surprised you did it just to come tell me this.”
JJ is a bit saddened by your rejection, but he doesn’t let it show, still smirking, knowing he’ll do whatever for a pretty girl like you — kook or not, you have a little special something. 
“Besides, Rafe comes to the club often. He’ll come pick me up.”
His smile doesn’t stay long at the mention of his name. 
“Rafe? Rafe Cameron?” He huffs, seemingly disgusted. 
You don’t take it personally, aware that the two of them don’t get along — it’s actually worse than that, but you don’t want to admit it — and you get into your truck, sliding down the window so you can still chat with the boy. 
“Yeah, who else?” You lean your forearms over the window, looking at JJ who is a bit bothered, biting the inside of his cheek. 
He should have remembered that despite your friendliness toward the pogues, you still come from Figure Eight and are friends with kooks — but Rafe Cameron is something else. He’s not like every other eccentric and egocentric kook, he’s literally worse than that. A true coke addict asshole that nobody likes — except you, for some unknown reason. 
You’ve spent a lot of time on the beach lately, and that includes partying with JJ and his group of friends. At first, it was an excuse to revive the friendship between Kiara and you, and then you were the reason for Kiara to be in close proximity with Sarah. 
Quickly, Sarah didn’t need your presence anymore to hang out with Kiara, the two of them finally putting their past conflict aside. Sarah is John B’s girlfriend after all, so she was part of the group even before you made your way inside. 
But your name was being mentioned many times — either to ask if you’d come or when exactly would you be there — and so you being around became almost a habit for JJ. 
Being reminded that you have a life outside of the usual beach parties… is weird. Especially when you interact with Rafe Cameron.
“I don’t know, there could be another guy named Rafe who’s actually a decent human being,” JJ retorts and the look on his face tells you he’s totally serious. 
“You don’t know him, JJ. Don’t say that,” you complain, but you still keep a teasing smile on your lips. “And no, picking fights with him isn’t enough to say you know him!”
You cut him off right when he’s about to speak, knowing he’d say something similar along those lines. 
“It’s still enough to tell you what you need to know about him,” he grumbles.
“Wouldn’t that mean you’re… the same?” 
He rolls his eyes, but you notice the corner of his lips tugging upward.
“All I’m saying is… be careful,” he adds, his eyes staying on you longer than it needs to. 
It’s funny because something tells you Rafe would say the same thing. He’d probably throw in more insults and refuse you even speak to some pogues — particularly anyone who’s related to John B. — but you’re the kind to not listen to biased opinions. 
Rafe doesn’t like JJ for personal reasons and JJ doesn’t like Rafe for personal reasons as well. 
“As always, JJ,” you smile, leaning in to start the engine. “Thank you for the help! I’ll call you back… and drive safe!” 
He watches you leaving the driveway, getting on his bike. 
You escalate Rafe’s truck as he holds the door open for you. You’re a bit tipsy, so your movements aren’t as coordinated as normally. 
You sit first on your knees, your ass quite literally in his face, skirt riding up your thighs and exposing your bathing suit. Rafe raises an eyebrow, finding you especially clumsy with alcohol in your blood. 
You eventually turn around and sit on your butt, gripping his leather seat to keep your balance. 
“All good?” he asks.
“Yup,” you reply, popping the ‘p’ with a little drunken smile. 
He nods and closes the door for you, getting around his truck to get into the driver seat. He starts his truck and puts on his seatbelt, you doing the same. 
Your hair is still damp by the water, shoulders covered by Rafe’s plaid shirt. He gave it to you earlier since you were a bit chilly after swimming in the ocean, not having brought a jacket with you. 
Wetting your hair wasn’t a good idea — you know you’ll have to take care of it when back home — but you think it was worth it with the fun that you had. 
Rafe’s friends have been good company and you were more at ease than usual, even though alcohol was partially a cause of it. It was really fun.
The sun is setting, the clouds painted in a soft orange colour. 
Rafe sets the truck in reverse, then in drive, leaving the beach’s parking lot. You look outside, watching the many houses passing before you, driving into the direction of your house. 
Your neighbourhood isn’t that far from the Cameron’s estate, but you still don’t live in those super big houses you start to see when going to Tanneyhill. Yours is more modest, though you still have a pretty comfortable life.
The drive is mostly silent, only you singing to the tune playing on the radio, which would normally annoy Rafe, but since it’s you, he allows it — doesn’t mean he finds it charming or anything, he just doesn’t bother telling you to shut it. 
When he parks in your driveway, some type of curious mood settles between the two of you. 
His elbow is laying on the console while he has his other hand on the wheel, gold, chunky rings adorning his fingers. Rafe notices your father’s truck, remembering you telling him you had a flat. 
“Everything’s good with your truck?” 
You sigh, shaking your head. “Not really. I pretty much need new tires if I don’t want to inflate the tires every week,” you explain. “It sucks. Luckily, I have JJ to help me with it until my dad’s back.”
“That pogue? Why?” 
His answer was almost too predictable. 
“Well, ‘cause he offered to,” you respond. 
Rafe scoffs, and you shoot him a look. “You should’ve asked me,” he trails off, looking ahead of him, only glancing at you when you don’t give him an answer right away. 
“You’re already giving me rides all around the island!” you argue, furrowing your brows. You hear him mumbling a ‘course I do’ at that. “Didn’t want to bother you with that.”
“Sure you didn’t.”
“Rafe,” you call his name in a scolding way, almost telling him to quit it, but this isn’t as easy as it is with him. “He was nice and he offered his help. I didn’t see myself refusing.”
“...” he pauses before adding a comment that you know is negative and full of judgment, “him and all his friends are bad news.”
“He’s my friend,” you retort and he doesn’t like that at all. 
“Don’t say that,” he almost immediately says, a repulsed look on his face. You could have laughed right at this moment, but you held back — surely not a good idea when he’s in a bad mood. 
“‘Kay, I won’t,” you give up. “But let’s drop the topic… My mom’s probably wondering what’s takin’ us so much time anyway.” 
“I told her I’d bring you back at eight, we’re good.”
You glimpse at the digital clock on his dashboard, reading exactly 7:48 p.m.. You rarely go back home that early, but you weren’t feeling like going to Topper's to continue partying. Plus, you have to wake up early once again tomorrow to meet up with JJ at The Chateau. 
As you look back at Rafe, his eyes are already on you. A shiver passes through you, an unexpected knot forming in your stomach. It’s like your pulse is accelerating just by his blue orbs staring at you…
He leans in closer and you instinctively do the same. 
The sunlight reflects into the rear mirror, the shadow of his seat casting his face, curtain bangs falling in front of his eyes. 
He brings your lips to his with a hand on your neck, thumb brushing over your jaw. You let out a whimper, moving your lips over his own, the cold feeling of his rings contrasting with the burning skin of your neck. 
It’s like you instantly sober up, following the movements of his hungry mouth, breathlessly trying to catch up with him. He leans in even closer — if it’s possible at this point — dominating you with his height and larger body, making you arch your back to meet his pink lips. 
You can finally breathe when he shifts to your cheek, gradually descending to the side of your throat and planting kisses there that don’t mean to be patient at all. You’re rapidly overwhelmed, even though it really doesn’t displease you… but you have to keep your head straight. 
You’re still parked in your driveway and you’d be terrified if your mom sees you making out with Rafe Cameron out of all people. She loves Rafe, but kissing a boy who isn’t your boyfriend? That’s a no-no. 
“Rafe,” you gently warn him, his lips leaving wet smooches along your throat and shoulder. 
You push on his chest and he backs away from the crook of your neck, seeing you shaking your head as a ‘no’. 
“Why not?” he questions, a bit out of breath. 
“Because I don’t want it to go further…” 
He frowns, looking you up and down. His hand is still holding you, his comforting warmth enveloping you. What a bummer to refuse him, but you have to. 
“I don’t do casual things, if you know what I mean,” you admit, kind of embarrassed, biting down on your lip. 
His frown deepens as if he’s trying to decipher you, but it’s not like you’re hiding anything… You’re not a big mystery, you’re rather an open book. 
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” He wonders, hearing the amusement behind his voice. 
“No!” You deny, shoving his shoulder back playfully, his hand reluctantly leaving you. “I’m just saying it’s not my thing.”
He does a short pause where he’s staring at you and you’re not sure what’s going on in that pretty blond head of his. His expression isn’t teasing as it was seconds ago. It literally looks like he’s weighing the pros and cons… of dating you. 
“I get it,” he finally breathes out. 
And then he reaches for the door handle, stepping out of his truck. He gets around the vehicle, going to open the door for you. He offers his hand and you take it, jumping out. 
He guides you to your front door, but you call his name, making him halt, turning around to face you. 
“Please, does it… I mean, tell me I didn’t make things weird,” you worry out, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip once again. 
Rafe rolls his eyes. 
“Wonderin’ if I’ll still give you rides, hm?” He raises a brow, giving you a questioning look. 
“I’m not like that…!” You huff, offended. You aren’t using your friendship with Rafe only for his truck. 
“‘M kidding,” he says. “I told you I get it. Trust what I say, yeah?”
You nod your head, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. 
“Where do I take you tomorrow?”
“Oh, huh…” You can’t tell him to drive you to John B’s, right? Sure, you don’t personally care about going to The Cut as a kook nor do you care about pogues going to Figure Eight, but Rafe… It’s another story. “I’ll go on my own. I have to take the truck.”
“Really? I thought you were too worried to use it,” he wonders and you know Rafe isn’t stupid, so instead of lying, you just try to avoid the topic. 
“Yeah… but it’s fine, I won’t be driving too far.”
Another pause. 
He has a tendency to make your pulse go crazy over nothing. 
“Alright,” he eventually says. “Call me if you need help. I’m here for that.”
The way JJ’s fingers are making you moan is embarrassing, to say the least. In fact, there is more than the moans escaping your mouth that is embarrassing. 
For example, the fact that you told Rafe you didn’t want anything happening between you two — more specifically sex — but you’re letting yourself be fingered by JJ Maybank.
You don’t owe anything to Rafe, but it's such an asshole move that you didn’t even think would happen. 
You just went to The Chateau as it was planned for JJ to take a look at your tires. John B. was there as well of course, showing you how to use the battery in case you’d need it again for any inconveniences with your dad’s truck. 
As JJ was inflating your back tire, John B. had to leave, Sarah needing his help at Tanneyhill. 
After that, you went inside to drink water and cool down a bit. 
And so you found yourself on the couch… with JJ… slipping your hands under your skirt to pull down your white panties, now pooling around your ankles, resting on top of your low-rise converse. 
You suppose the insufferable heat got to your head, but you know that it isn’t enough of a good reason to justify JJ’s fingers pumping into your pussy, thumb circling your puffy clit. 
You have your hand sneaking into his shorts then boxers, making him moan against your lips. 
The sensations are too intoxicating, opening your legs wider for him despite your underwear hanging around your ankles. His fingers are so big they have your pussy stretched out around them tightly, but your wetness makes it easier to thrust in, his digits patting the sensitive spot inside of you. 
“Fuck, please,” JJ mumbles between kisses, glancing down at his two fingers disappearing in your soppy pussy, squelching noises echoing in the quiet living room. 
You don’t know if he begs for his release or yours, but you apply more pressure and tighten your hold around his cock, jutting your hips upward to chase the pleasurable feeling of him filling you up. 
“You’re so goddamn wet,” he rasps out and you whine in response, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening. “Soaking my fingers- shit,” he hisses when you accelerate the pace of your hand, fingers a bit sticky from his pre-cum, gliding down his length smoothly but your movements still being a little bit clumsy because of the restraining space.
 You cum around his fingers, legs and arms shaking slightly, JJ helping you ride off your high as you make him spill into his boxers, staining the material. 
He sloppily kisses you, muffling both his groans and your moans. 
When he pulls his fingers out, you feel real empty, his presence still there, hole quivering. You try to catch your breath, panting heavily. 
His cheeks are flushed red, strands of blond hair sticking to his damp forehead. You now feel extremely sweaty, the hot weather not helping at all. 
JJ suddenly seems shy — a trait that he literally doesn’t have — avoiding your eyes until he can’t, feeling your insistent gaze on him. 
“I’m gonna go clean up ‘cause… well, yeah.”
He gets up and you nod your head, even though he can’t see you since he already has his back on you, heading to the bathroom. 
You dress back up, startled when your phone lights up, Rafe’s name appearing on the screen as he’s calling you. 
You let your phone ring twice before picking up, biting down on your lip nervously. That’s so embarrassing, you remind yourself. 
“Hello-”
“You’re on the other side of the island?” You hear Rafe angrily asking on the other side of the line. It’s not really a question, though, because you know he already knows the answer. 
“First of all, how do you know?”
“That’s not the fucking subject,” he retorts right away, “are you there?”
“Well, yeah. Why does it even matter anyway?” You huff, rolling your eyes. 
You eye the hallway where JJ disappeared, hoping he doesn’t come out while you’re quite obviously on the phone with Rafe.
“I’m coming to pick you up,” he decides on the spot, hanging up before you can even reply back.
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puripurin · 2 months
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[Side Story for Zephyr, not pt 2]
— After Earth had finally gained contact with the other residents of this wide and vast galaxy, they wanted to go over to their land and talk about business or whatever. It wasn't your problem as you were nothing more than a guard to protect the important people.
Today was officially the end of the first week out of two, you have stayed here. There were some ups and downs due to miscommunication, but overall, the scientists, diplomats, and world leaders were making massive progress by talking to the leader of the planet.
But, alas, you were outside the spaceship on the night shift. Talk about unlucky. Well, at least your pay is going to be wonderful. You notice that your comrade had already fallen asleep, but you decided not to wake them up. The inhabitants of this planet seemed friendly, and having guards was just so nothing confidential came out.
You yawned before you felt a tug on both of your pant legs. You looked down and saw two 5-year-old alien children looking up at you with their golden eyes and had a glittery grey skin colour. Their hair was stark white and flowed beautifully. Their clothes seemed to be like night gowns and had intricate patters.
"Um, hello?" You waved at the two children who seemed to get excited at your response. They jumped around you, and the duo gave you a set of toys, you assumed, and started to play with them. You smiled and then stooped down to sit on the cold floor and played with them, entertaining them until 20 minutes before the end of your shift.
"Hey, but can we stop here? I need to leave soon, so can you go back to where to come from?" You said politely with a smile, enjoying their cute chubby faces. They look at you in confusion before latching on to you and saying in their native language, "Eram! Eram". You couldn't understand them as guards don't get translators as they are very expensive to make. They were on the verge of tears and tugged on your body.
Your face flushed with embarrassment as you looked to see if your coworker was awake, but they were still in a deep sleep. "Come on guys, please... Let go of me, how about I take you all back to sleep?" You exasperatly said as the children sniffled. "Okay, just hide behind that pot and wait until I start leaving." You whispered to them, enthusiasticly following your instructions and hid well behind the plants.
You woke up your colleague, to which they profusely thanked you for allowing them to sleep. Then, after 20 minutes, another set of guards came and took your post. Your coworker and you went your separate ways, and you finally got back to your sleep station with the two alien children.
They silently giggled and started to roll around in an empty bed. You quickly took a bath and changed your clothes in the changing room. Then, you slipped inside the sheets with the children snuggling up to you. After calming them down, all three of you fell asleep, but as you dozed off, you felt as if you were forgetting something... Eh. Could be nothing.
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You were woken up to a slap in the face. Your eyes were blurry, and it felt as if your mind was weighing you down.
"Soldier! Are you an idiot!?" The lead scientist barked at you, her glare seem to cut into your fragile state of mind.
"W-what are you talking about??" She slapped you again, there was other people in the room, and seemed to be discussing about what to do with you.
"Are you playing dumb!? Have you forgotten how discern the ranks of the aliens here!? Grey skins mean they are royalty! Did you forget that soldier!?" She screeched again and made you feel extremely dumb. Your eyes widened in shock before looking down in embarrassment, and that made the lead scientist tug on her hair. She kicked you in your stomach out of frustration.
"URG!! Now we have see how to profusely apologize to them no—" The crumbling of the door cut her off as another alien with glittery grey skin calmly walked in, his hair was long and stark white but his eyes were a deep red. His clothes were long, white, and accents of gold with a red headpiece. Just then, the two children from last night popped out from behind him, and tears were bubbling in their eyes. One of them had stopped to kick and punch the leg of the lead scientist who had abused you while the other made a beeline towards you and tried tugging at the rope that had bound you. The other one then ran towards you and also started to tug on the ropes.
"Eram! Eram!" The room fell silent as the children babbled about something that you couldn't understand but made the humans in the room shocked. The alien had snapped his fingers, and the ropes had turned into ashes before elegantly walking into the room and towards you. His, supposed, children screamed in joy before cuddling into you to indulge in your warmth.
"Alas, I must apologize for this incident. My children are still young and do not properly know what's not acceptable when it comes to foreigners. Though this time, they took it too far by accepting them as their mother. I do apologize for this event." The alien said with nothing but pure elegance laced in between his words. Your eyes widened in shock and sputtered out jumbled words before you started to speak properly.
"Oh my gosh, I am sorry I did not know these were your kids!! I feel super apologetic, I have no idea what to do to make this situation improve!!" Tears welled up in your eyes, fearing for the worse.
"Execute me!"
"You shall marry me."
Not only you but the other scientists and diplomats' faces contorted into a look of confusion. One of the diplomats came up and looked at him as if he were crazy.
"No, your royalty. Wouldn't you wish to marry someone with equal power on Earth. Think about it—" His words were cut off by his neck spraying blood. You'd immediately covered the children's faces and turned them away.
"Any opposition will be promptly executed. Though this means I will be updating our contract. In order to maintain peaceful contact with our planets, you shall hand over my future spouse." He said unwaveringly, showing his dominance. No one butted in after they saw what happened to the diplomat.
"W-wait, don't you have a queen or an empress?? Wouldn't this be rude to her??" You questioned, and the alien turned to look at you and smiled. His kids were still cuddling into you with their faces on your body.
"Ah, are you worried about offending anyone, my reigham? You shouldn't be worrying since the start of my rule as I hadn't married anyone. It's engraved into our culture that you wait until an opportunity to get attached to someone so that a relationship will flourish, and it's understood that the current ruler will take long periods of time to wait and marry someone as it's a delicate process. So my reigham, do you understand? If you refuse whose to say that you may step out of here alive?" He explained with a smile on his face. One of his children turned to blow a raspberry at him at the last line he spoke.
"I- uh okay??" You still were processing everything, so you just accepted it. He turned back to the scientists and diplomats who were still flabbergasted but the situation.
"Go back and notify your world leaders that the situation has changed. I shall marry this person as soon as possible." He said before motioning his finger towards you, and your body started to levitate towards him before he carried you in his arms and left the room, leaving people stunned in silence.
"My Reigham, I shall make our wedding wonderful."
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"Ng- Ngh... I-I can't do this anymore -" You stuttered as you were forced to look at yourself in the mirror as the alien king slammed you down on his hardened cock. His long tongue left trails of slime as he licked your nipples. Your face was hot and flushed as you felt yourself getting pounded into.
"From the moment I saw you, standing up right and doing your duties, I knew something inside me was calling for you. I could smell that you were my soulmate... And I'm finally going to use all of your holes the way I want. Though, I'll be giving you breaks. It's customary that soulmates... "bond" for at least 25 hours. So this is only the beginning." He said as he cummed into you for the first time out of many.
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Hiii. So uh i posted somthing before immediately deleting it cus I didn't liked it so heres a long one. Idk what 2 name the alien and his kiddies. Anywayssss, i tried by best to make it gn with the only thing referring ze reader as fem is Eram, which means mother in the language i was making up. Reigham means love. So hope yalls in enjoy thisss
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cherrychilli · 4 months
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Slip of the Tongue
A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers
Chapter one
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Eddie Munson, AFAB reader, neighbor! reader.
Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.
Chapter Summary: You discover that Eddie's been practicing a very interesting new trick on his guitar, one which he offers to use on you under the guise of giving you some much needed stress relief.
A/N: Listen, series scare the shit out of me but I'm trying to challenge myself with a tiny one. I kind of already feel like I'm biting off more than I can chew but I'm going to give it my best shot.
Inspired by those clips of Steve Vai and Jimi Hendrix. ifkyk.
Chapter warnings: Nothing explicit this chapter. Some suggestive stuff but the real smut begins next chapter, so if you want more you better let me know!
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“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He's doing it again. Of course he's doing it again.
You tilt your head forward, forehead dropping into your hands. Heatedly, you mutter your annoyance under your breath, thumbs rubbing at throbbing temples and eyes squeezing shut when the music picks up to an ear ringing volume.
Eddie Munson took sick pleasure in riling you up – you were certain of that given how he only ever seemed to plug in his guitar when it was time for you to study your coursework, wrecking your concentration and making your temper skyrocket with a kind of ease only he was capable of.
For years, you’d taken issue with the fact that your trailer neighbored his own, your bedroom becoming an echo chamber for every blaring chord progression and heavily distorted guitar riff that strummed out from Eddie's open window.
And as always, you felt the need to make your displeasure known.
Abandoning your textbooks, you hastily shove your shoes on to stomp over next door. You knew from painful experience that it was best to head behind the Munson’s trailer and approach Eddie’s bedroom window than to pound on the front door, the sound of his playing almost always too loud for him to notice your knocking.
Trampling over the patchy, dry lawn that lay between your homes, you made your way across, rounding the corner and striding up to the open window, fuming with thoughts of what you’d yell at him this time when you caught sight of the metalhead.
As expected, he's rocking out in the center of his unruly bedroom. No doubt having tuned the rest of the world out, channeling so much of his wild, boundless energy into his playing.
His mop of dark messy curls aren't tied back today, allowed to sway, tumble and whip around his face as he played to an audience of some devilish looking posters and a couple figurines that stood on his crowded desk, probably a part of that fantasy game he's always going on about.
He's dressed in grey sweats that hang low around his hips and a ratty old band tee that tended to ride up, you couldn't help but notice.
‘At least he’s got clothes on today’, you thought to yourself mirthlessly, only a touch thankful for the silver lining of not having to confront him while he's shirtless or in his boxers again. Not that he’d ever minded you seeing him like that before.
Your last encounter with Eddie was one you hoped to soon forget, cringing because he'd caught your gaze wandering when you came over to reprimand him for the noise again, becoming noticeably distracted by his bare chest and the tattoos adorning it.
You don't know how it happened, only that you fell into a sort of daze when your eyes slipped lower to follow the slope of his pale tummy, leading to the sparse trail of dark hair which thickened below his belly button and disappeared underneath the waistband of his boxers.
D'you want a picture or something, darling?, he'd quipped, growing even more pleased with himself when your face turned hot and the embarrassment of getting caught had you stuttering out the first thing you could manage.
"F-fuck off, Munson", you spit back and retreated awkwardly, the sound of his barking laughter as you did so ringing in your ears long after you made it back into your room and hid underneath your blankets for a good hour.
Yeah, that was hard to live down. As was trying to expunge the image of Eddie's unclothed torso from your mind.
Most times he could anticipate your arrival, like a lightning storm only he could forecast but this time he hasn’t seemed to noticed you yet, tongue pinched between his lips in concentration while his fingers travelled skillfully over the ebony fretboard of his guitar.
Watching him play like that sometimes made you think that if he hadn't plagued you for half your life with all of his antics, you might have admitted that he was good musician - that he had talent most people didn't care to acknowledge and maybe even go so far as to say that you found it impressive that he’d managed teach himself how to play in lieu of any lessons.
But you weren’t about to sing Eddie Munson's praises. Not when he was seconds away from making you pop a vein.
Taking a deep breath in, you prepared yourself to start the unpleasant cycle of bickering with your neighbor once again, hoping against hope that, at the very least, it'll be a short exchange this time.
“Ed-"
You meant to catch his attention with a single shout but the heated call flattens on your tongue in an instant, heart beat kicking up as you watch what he does next.
He lifts his treasured Warlock and you're half afraid for him when he casually flips the front of the instrument towards his face, its angular design and jagged edges enough to worry you even when he played on it the regular way.
But it's when his tongue stretches out, long and slick like a serpent, that things start to feel...hazy. Speechlessly, you stare as he slides it along one of the guitar's six strings, following the length of it from near the bottom of the fretboard while his left hand continued to flit over the strings by the neck, creating harmonics in a way you’d never thought was possible before.
Are my palms sweating?
The sound begins to shift again and your eyes bulge when he slides his tongue back down, flicking and picking the guitar strings by the tip of it with more speed and dexterity than you'd thought was possible, his fingers continuing to move seamlessly to hold down every note.
Eyes closed (and there was no chance of you letting that happen) there was no way you could've told the difference than if he’d been playing with his fingers all along, the sound just as sharp and crisp as as every time before.
It's filthy, bordering on vulgar the way he’s moving the silky pink muscle so expertly, so much so that it makes you feel like you're intruding, peeping in on something that only happened behind closed doors.
But that gnawing feeling isn't anywhere near enough to make you stop looking. Your gaze stays planted firmly on Eddie's mouth, the sight making your head crowd with static and your belly swirl with heat. Your thighs had been clamped together too, you realize, a sickening realization dawning over you when they rub together, registering the dampness pooling between them underneath your skirt.
Oh my god…am I w-?
And just as abruptly as the realization had sunk in, the song ends. Deafening silence returns to your shared corner of the trailer park when Eddie sets the guitar back down to hang by the strap fixed over his shoulder, eyes flicking to you as if he'd known all along that you'd been standing there, gawking at him.
"So, what do you think? pretty good, right? been working on it for weeks", he pants out, chest rising and falling softly with each labored breath.
Somehow, this feels so much worse than when he caught you staring the last time.
With luck, you're able to shake yourself out of your trance like state, round eyes narrowing in preparation to berate him as originally intended
"Fucking hell, Eddie would you keep it down? I'm trying to study!", you agonize, scrambling to find your fury again.
But your tone doesn’t seem to bother him, it rarely ever did. So he leans through the open window, elbows resting on the window pane, eyeing you up and down all amused.
"You look stressed", he observes, and it's the flippant way in which he does it that ticks you off, with the kind of lopsided smile you’d often described as annoying. For the most part because he’d almost always done something to that effect before flashing you one.
"I am", you confirm with an acidic glare, hoping he couldn't tell how frazzled his little performance had left you.
"And you're not helping so knock it off"
Turning on your heel, you're desperate to retreat back to your place for a reprieve, heart hammering inside your chest when he calls out to you again.
"I could help you relax, y'know"
The way he says it makes you pause, like he's about to let you in on a secret.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "I'm not buying weed from you Eddie", you answer back over your shoulder, trying to look unimpressed as you attempt to turn him down.
"I wouldn't charge", the boy winks at you without missing a beat, undeterred by your cold attitude and you hate that his persistence makes your face feel hot.
"But that's not what I was going to suggest"
"Oh?"
You turn around to face him again, intrigue building.
He takes a moment to scan you thoughtfully, brows furrowing, almost as if he's weighing the outcomes of what might happen if he were to continue.
"You liked what you saw, right?", his brown eyes flicked down to his guitar and back up to you in quick reference to what you were hoping to avoid.
The mention of what you'd witnessed him doing with his tongue brings that hot, sticky feeling sitting at the base of your stomach back in full force, alarm bells ringing in your head.
"What does that have to do with anything?", you ask cautiously, realizing a second too late that you’ve only confirmed his suspicion.
"Well..."
Eddie curls a finger up at you, rings glinting in the sunlight, beckoning you closer and for some reason you actually oblige, stepping up to his window until you’re only a foot apart from one another.
Low and throaty, he whispers to you. "I can do a lot more with my tongue than just shred on my guitar", flicking the muscle salaciously between his lips like a viper ready to strike.
It should revolt you, watching the crude gesture courtesy of the bane next door, the implication behind it enough to make your skin crawl.
So why doesn't it?
Why does it make you want to leap at him and close the distance between the two of you, hungry to feel his tongue against your own?
"You're disgusting", you tell him instead in an attempt to deflect, voice wavering through the lie.
But he's too astute to be fooled now. "And you like it", he counters easily.
"So are you going to cut the bullshit and climb in here or what?"
You stare at the hand he holds out to you and before you can think to just walk away, before you can pull yourself together and stifle the roaring fire inside lapping at your bones, your fingers have found their way to his.
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familyvideostevie · 4 months
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steel drum weight of me
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joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni
summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k
warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie
a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.
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Jackson looks its best in the winter.
You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.
It's also fucking cold.
But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.
Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.
Things could be worse.
You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.
Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.
You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.
The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.
"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"
"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.
The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.
The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.
He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.
"How was the wall?"
"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"
"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"
He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."
You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.
"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.
"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.
"Hey now, what --"
You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"
He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.
The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.
And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.
It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.
"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.
"I'm fine --"
"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"
"I said I'm --"
"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.
"Alright," he says. "Move, then."
You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.
"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."
Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.
"What's it made of?"
"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."
He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."
You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.
"Cute."
"Gimme those hands, big guy."
The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.
"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"
"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.
"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."
He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."
You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.
And, boy, he touches you back.
So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.
Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.
"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."
"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.
"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."
"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"
You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.
"What? Can't hear over the water."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."
"Don't think that's what you said."
"It's what I meant."
And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.
"Alright," he says.
You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.
Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"
"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."
"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"
"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"
"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.
So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.
"You just gonna look at it?"
You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.
Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.
"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.
It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.
Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.
You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.
He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."
"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.
He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."
You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.
"So is that a no?"
You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.
"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.
"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.
"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.
Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --
The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.
You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.
"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."
He laughs.
His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.
"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"
"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"
"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"
His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.
Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.
You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Hell of a salve," he manages.
You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."
His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."
"You never stop, do you?"
Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."
You laugh into his neck. "Good."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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joelscruff · 11 months
Note
I have a prompt for you: Joel, reader and pillow humping. Do with this what you want 😁
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YES. (this is short and not proofread don't come for me) i'm also combining this with another request i just got: joel and reader with the sentence “you say it’s big but you take it. ride cowgirl.” from frank ocean pyramids😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 when i say this isn't proofread, i mean it!!! it's probably bad!!! i'm sorry!!!!!!!! i just wanted to write something lmao
you wake in the middle of the night with a fire burning in your tummy. you can barely remember the dream you just had but the lasting effect is evident as you shove your hand down under the blankets and feel your pussy, wet and sticky beneath your fingers. fuck.
joel is fast asleep beside you and you know better than to wake him; he's had trouble sleeping these past few nights and this is the first time in a while that he hasn't been tossing and turning. you don't want to deprive him of that pleasure.
but you don't want to deprive yourself of pleasure either.
you start to rub yourself, scrunching up your face in satisfaction as you give your clit the treatment it deserves, releasing some of that ache and pressure in your belly. but it's not enough; the angle isn't right, the feeling of your fingers. you don't like masturbating, not anymore, not since you met joel and he started keeping you more than satisfied almost every single day. touching yourself has lost its spark and after rubbing your clit for a few moments you realize it's not gonna get you where you need to be.
you sit up, being careful not to jostle joel too much as you grab your pillow and slide off the bed. you place it on the floor, watching from the corner of your eye to make sure he's still sleeping. then, with quick hands, you yank your panties off and settle easily onto the pillow, spreading your legs around it and kneeling on the floor. the coolness of it against your wet heat makes you bite back a whimper.
you dig your hands into the carpet, baring down on the pillow and letting the edge of it slip past your puffy and swollen lips. it rubs perfectly against your clit, foreign enough that it no longer feels like you're getting yourself off.
you turn your head to look at joel, lying there looking peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps through your sudden depravity. he's so handsome, hair grey and tousled against his pillow, forehead and jaw solid and firm, lips parted and slightly wet beneath his scruffy beard and mustache. a few hours ago he'd had that mouth against your pussy, suckling at your clit and fingering your hole until he'd made you come. you keep that image in your head now as you grind against the pillow, soft and supple.
it's only after a few more gyrations that you realize his eyes are suddenly open. you freeze, staring back at him and wondering what he could possibly think of you right now, crouched on the floor like some kind of wild animal while you fuck yourself against a pillow.
"what are you doing, baby?" he murmurs, not moving from his place on the bed.
"i don't know," your face is red but you start to grind against the pillow again, no longer worried about the whimpers bubbling past your lips, "i just wanna come."
he sits up in bed then, pulls back the covers and tugs his boxers down; he's already half hard from watching you, "come here, baby, sit on it."
you scramble up from the floor, leaving your wet pillow behind as you climb back in bed and crawl over to him, pulling yourself up and hovering over his dick. he holds it in place, watches you sink down on it with no preparation whatsoever.
"fuck," he groans, "what a way to wake up."
you're too distracted by the stretch of him to know what to say, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down hard on your lip as his girth stretches your hole. you regret not fingering yourself; why'd you have to go straight for the pillow? his cock feels good inside of you but the burn is almost too much.
"i should've prepped," you whimper, "it kinda hurts."
his brow furrows, "what? baby, why didn't you tell me?" he moves to pull out of you and you bare down on him quickly, shaking your head.
"no, joel, it's a good hurt. it's so big," you look at him with hazy eyes, feeling simultaneously half asleep and wide awake, "and it's getting bigger. fuck." you whine then, a high keening sound that has you wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in closer, "oh my god, it feels amazing."
he holds you close and lets you get used to his size, growing larger the longer he's inside you. you've taken his cock countless times before but never without him fingering you first, and never when he was only half hard to begin with. the sheer size of him just continues to fill you up the longer you sit there, a deep groan emitting from your throat when he's finally at his peak size.
"oh, fuck," you moan, "okay, fuck me. fuck me." you suddenly feel frantic, lips against his ear as his hands find their familiar place on your back. he hears you loud and clear, immediately fucking up into you and giving you what you need. the head of his cock pounds fervently against your cervix and your eyes roll back, already feeling like you could come at any second.
"what's gotten into you, baby?" he asks between thrusts, gripping you tightly as he bounces you up and down, "you need cock that bad, huh?"
"yours," you whimper, "your cock, no one else's."
"needed it so bad you fucked a pillow," he groans, fucking you faster, "just had to have something touching that needy little pussy. absolutely shameless. does it still hurt, baby?"
"n-no," you shake your head, "doesn't hurt."
he suddenly stops thrusting, stills inside you and leans back against the headboard, "then you do the work for a bit, i'm tired."
"joel," you whine, pulling back to look at him, "that's not fair."
"you woke me up, baby," he whispers, the ghost of a smile on his face, "i was sleeping so good and you woke me up with your pretty little whimpers."
you pout, "it's too big," you're laying it on thick, hoping he'll come around, "i'm tired too, can't do it by myself."
he smiles, "it's not too big, baby. it's made for you," he reaches down and lands a playful smack against your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly, "now ride it."
it takes a few seconds for you to get back into a rhythm but before long you're pulling yourself up and down on his cock, loving the way it slides all the way in and hits the deepest part of you and then pulls all the way out. joel just watches you with sleepy eyes, squeezes your ass and smirks every time you cry out.
he knows when you're close, has seen that expression on your face and felt the way your pussy tightens around him too many times to not know what it means. he reaches down and rubs your clit, smiling when you moan his name and start twitching in his lap.
"there it is," he murmurs, "that's what you wanted."
you're vaguely aware of him finishing a few seconds later, coming inside of you without having to ask; he knows you want it. your legs are shaking when he pulls you off, lays you beside him and strokes your hair. you can feel yourself drifting off again but before you can fall asleep you feel him place his pillow beneath your head.
"but-" you start to protest, opening your eyes again and watching as he leans over you on the bed, reaching down onto the floor for the pillow you'd fucked yourself against only moments ago.
"shhh, go to sleep baby," he whispers, picking it up and placing it on his side of the bed, "i want this one."
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waevrs · 10 months
Text
ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairings: ShieldAgent! Natasha x ShieldAgent!Fem! Reader
Summary: You're tired of always fighting with her, but you just can't help but feel an attachment to her. Even if it gets you hurt.
Warning: Y/N has powers like Venom, Angst, Fluff if you squint, Injury
Parts: 1 // 2 // 3
I dragged myself into the kitchen the next morning and poured myself some coffee. I hadn't got any sleep last night due to a certain redhead having the time of her life with a random guy she found on the streets.
"You look like shit." Tony remarked, also sipping on his coffee. Clint and Steve were also seated on the kitchen island with bags under their eyes. I guessed they couldn't sleep either, and that was saying something because they all slept on different floors than me and Natasha.
"Oh yeah? Blame that one on Romanoff." I quipped, taking a sip of my coffee.
"Blame what on me?"
Ah yes, the devil herself. The one responsible for the sleepless night. She walked into the kitchen as if she wasn't screaming the building down literally 5 hours ago. She had a baggy shirt on, definitely not hers, and boxers, also not hers. Her hair was a mess and she had the audacity to walk into the kitchen yawning.
"Uh, maybe the fact that none of us slept due to your screaming." Tony expressed. Natasha just simply chuckled and made herself a coffee.
"Tony, please soundproof her room." I suggested, turning to Tony, Steve and Clint.
"It already is soundproofed..." Clint muttered. Natasha laughed again. Is this woman serious?
"Okay then," I piped, turning towards Natasha. "The next time you decide to get railed, keep it down so the rest of us can sleep."
There was unadulterated venom behind my words, and I made sure she knew that.
"Since when does my sex life have anything to do with you?" She scoffed.
"Since we have a fucking mission Natasha! I hope you weren't fucked too hard because I am not slowing down for you!" I growled and slammed the mission file onto the kitchen island. Everyone in there looked at me in shock and Clint just smirked and took a sip of his coffee.
"She's got a point, you kn-" Steve began.
"Can it, old man." Natasha interrupted. Why is she mad? She literally kept the whole building awake and now she's mad? I don't understand her. I walked away, coffee in hand, and got ready for the mission.
Some time passed and we boarded the Quinjet, not before getting a lecture from Fury. Romanoff and I hadn't spoken a word to each other. Maybe that was for the best.
The mission was in another Hydra base. Although, this time it was to shut the place down. It was going to be more challenging because I had to do most of the fighting, due to Ms. Imgonnagetrailedbeforeamission limping everywhere.
After some walking, we got into the Hydra base. Using my powers, we slipped through corridors upon corridors of grey walls and floors. We were still avoiding communication, despite me literally carrying her through the halls. I don't know how we got to this position but she was on me with her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck and I was holding onto her with one arm, so I could use the other to shoot my gun. I mean sure, to turn both of us into a shadow I needed her off of the ground but it started with me carrying her, bridal style, and now it evolved into this.
We came across a hallway where there were some Hydra agents patrolling and I brought us out of the shadows and went to put Natasha down. Her grip on me just tightened and she took my gun from the holster on my thigh and aimed it behind her. She shot 3 bullets without looking and they hit the agents vitally.
"Turn around I can't see." She ordered, finally speaking the first words to me since the morning. I obliged knowing she's the better shot. Still, I was confused as to why she didn't want to come down.
Natasha fired 2 more bullets at the 2 remaining Hydra agents that were left dumbfounded by her sudden attack. Their lifeless bodies hit the concrete floor with a thud.
"Am I warm, Romanoff?" I teased when she placed my gun back into my holster.
"Put me down." She deadpanned.
"What? I was just joki-"
"I said. Put. Me. Down." She reiterated. I let her down and she rolled her eyes and stormed off in a random direction. I followed her closely, not wanting to compromise the mission. Through the bland halls we walked, only stopping when we believed that we heard something. The floor was concrete so it hurt to walk on for a long period of time and I could tell that Natasha was getting uncomfortable too.
This place, this hallway in particular, seemed all to familiar to me.
And that's when it hit me.
Something was wrong about this place. This was the place where my vision occurred.
Danger ahead, stop walking.
"Natasha, stop. There's something wrong about this place." I realised. She simply scoffed and kept walking.
"Natasha. I'm serious. Stop."
Still nothing. She held her head high and continued walking as if you hadn't said anything.
"Natasha! Would you please just listen to me-"
Stop her now.
I didn't waste time in debating whether or not the voice was toying with me and lunged straight for Natasha, pulling her backwards towards where I stood previously.
Stand infront of her.
In a matter of milliseconds I switched our places so I was in front of her. That's when we heard it
Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Get down!"
I pushed Natasha to the ground and held my arms out, trying to create a shield with my powers in the very short time slot that I had. I decided to cover my head with it and cover Natasha with my body. She opened her mouth to protest but-
BOOM!
Natasha's P.O.V I watched in horror as Y/N's unconscious body collapsed onto mine after the explosion. I blinked a few times and looked around, only now realising that the place was rigged. We only got this far due to sheer luck.
How could I be so stupid? I was too occupied with being petty from our argument that I didn't think to check anything.
"Y/N?" I shook her body a little but she did not reply, not even a stir. I touched her back to move her but froze when I felt a warm liquid slip through my fingertips.
I panicked a little and tried to contact someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.
"H-Hello? Romanoff to S.H.I.E.L.D." I muttered into the earpiece, trying to hide the panic.
"We hear you, your earpiece seems to be working fine-"
"Y/N is compromised. We need emergency evacuation." I interrupted . My mind was racing as I glanced down at the unconscious body laid down on my chest. I took a closer look at the wounds on her back and realised that the bomb was a pipe bomb. Pieces of shrapnel were impaled into her back and she was bleeding pretty badly. My gaze landed on her right leg, where a chunk was missing and the muscle was visible.
An abundance of footsteps echoed through the hallway, towards us. I wrapped my hands around Y/N's waist and pulled her up with me to try and walk in the opposite direction of the footsteps. I put her over my shoulder and ran towards another hallway. Her blood dripped from her wounds and onto my body.
"Moving towards the east side." I huffed into my earpiece. I turned the corner to be greeted by a group of agents, ready, aiming their guns at me and the body on my shoulder.
"Oh, for fuck's sake." Y/N groaned groggily from my shoulder and reached for her gun. A quick sense of relief washed over me before I pulled out one of my guns and began shooting, keeping my other arm wrapped securely around Y/N's waist.
We both started shooting at the agents, with her covering my blind spot and me covering hers. I killed the last agent and continued moving in the direction I was going previously. Y/N shuffled a bit and moved down my body to try and stand up. She wobbled so I put my arms around her waist to support her.
"Nat, I think I was shot." She whispered. The fear in her voice was evident, she was scared she was going to die. I didn't have time to stop and check her so we kept moving towards the east side.
"Hey, I think you got hit too." She voiced with concern, tracing her fingertips over the bullet wound on my shoulder making me wince a little.
I turned another corner and laid her down against the wall. By now, the alarms in the building were blaring and Hydra agents were scouring the area for us. I ripped a bit of fabric from my suit off with my teeth and ripped it in half. I wrapped half around her bullet wound tightly to limit the amount of blood she was losing and wrapped the other half around her leg.
"You're bleeding too." She told me even groggier than last time, pointing towards my shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. You're just my priority right now." I said, my voice wavering due to my fear. I tried so hard to keep a straight face but I couldn't. For the first time in a long time, I felt genuine fear.
Y/N was going to bleed out if we didn't get help soon. And it'd be all my fault.
"Hey...don't blame yourself for this," She whispered, her entire body limp and just her hand coming up to cup my cheek.
"I-It's okay...I'm not...going to die."
"Romanoff, cover your heads." Tony warned through the comms. I pulled Y/N into me and covered her ears and her neck.
Y/N's P.O.V Nat pulled me into her and I relaxed into the crook of her neck, just inhaling her scent. She covered my ears and head with her hands and I tried my best to stay conscious. Maybe resting wasn't the best option. The moment was pure bliss until a hole was blown into the wall.
There stood Tony and Steve looking, or trying to look, like total badasses. Natasha removed her hands from my head quickly and put them on my back, putting pressure on my wounds. My head was fuzzy and my vision was blurry. I was fighting consciousness as Natasha whispered.
"I'm so sorry."
I felt myself get lifted out of Natasha's grasp and into muscular arms. Probably Steve's because, let's face it, Tony is not that muscular.
"Stay with us Y/N." Steve said, although it sounded more like a command.
He set me down in the Quinjet and Bruce started grabbing everything he needed. I felt the consciousness slipping so I decided to spill.
"Natasha's hit too, don't let her tell you otherwise." I flashed a weak, cheeky smile at her before finally closing my eyes.
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