#I mean; he's old already; but it's hard to grasp to that hope

[notafunkiller]

we found wonderland

Summary: You have a choice to make: you either set yourself free or continue to play the game.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, unprotected séx (but she is on the pill), pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.4K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this mini-series! Thank you for reading!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You had decided you should wait for a week before making your relationship public, using that time to try to convince your parents to change their mind while Bucky plays pretend with his. It’s not an ideal situation, but he understands, keeping the truth to himself.

What he can’t keep to himself is his hands. Not that you can… but as soon as he comes home, he’s all over you, not even caring you are in the living room sometimes.

Acting like you’re just friendly is very hard for you. You want to touch and kiss him like crazy. Having sex with him changed the game, and now you try your hardest to find a way out of this deal so you can be in this relationship completely.

You laugh at the way he pouts. “You’re really adorable for an old man.”

“Is it so crazy I want us together?”

You melt, leaning in to kiss his chin. “That’s not crazy, baby, but isn’t that a little fast?”

“We’ve been living together for months now. What’s the difference?”

You wish you could find the right words to explain it. It’s quite scary and exciting, but it feels strange. “We’ve been together for a couple of days. Maybe we don’t…”

“Are you thinking of a break up already?”

You jump immediately. “No! Maybe we don’t have things figured out enough yet. And by we I mean me. I won’t have a job anymore if my parents don’t change their minds. I won’t have a real home. I won’t have anything but you. And I love every moment I spend with you, but I want something of my own, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a burden even if you don’t make me feel like that. My life is a mess.”

“And I want to help. I am not trying to control you or suggest something you don’t want, but we are friends, too, not just a couple. I am here for you. You can stay with me as a friend if not as a boyfriend. I want you safe.”

You say nothing, only staring at him for a while. You don’t even know what to say because the mix of emotions you feel is confusing.

“You know what I want?”

“What?”

“I want to fuck you right now.” You don’t try to hide your neediness as you place your hands on his shorts. “Can I, baby? Can I ride you?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before I turn forty. Is this your plan? Do you want me gone?” He’s already raising his ass so he can help you take off his shorts quicker.

“I want you with me always. Want you inside me so badly.”

He groans at your tone. “Then go for it, baby, take whatever you want. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

You smile eagerly seeing his hard cock, and lift his T-shirt. You cannot stand anything between your bodies right now. You just need to feel him. “God, we should go to the bedroom, but I can’t wait.”

You take off your underwear, unable to wait any longer. As if someone is holding a knife to your throat, and if you don’t get Bucky inside you in the next seconds, you’re gonna die.

“Anyone can walk in,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He probably even enjoys it. “Can you imagine their faces?”

You snort, bringing his dick to your entrance without hesitation after spreading your legs further apart. “No, but I can imagine yours when you come.”

“You don’t need to imagine. You’re gonna see it up close if you hurry up.”

Neither of you even realize you’re not using a condom for the first time until it’s too late and you’re already sliding down.

Your grasp on his shoulders is so forceful, you’re sure it will leave a mark, as you moan his name.

“James…” You desperately look at him, wanting to see if he feels the same. “We’re not using anything.”

“I c-can feel that.”

“God damn it, James,” you sound like you’re scolding him, but in reality you are just overwhelmed.

“What did I… fucking hell, I am totally not getting to turn forty. I will die tonight.”

You ask with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get a condom?”

“No, I want to die.” He groans, already in a different space. “Unless you want to… I am clean and you are, of course, and I can pull out, but like it’s not… I can go grab a condom right now.”

You immediately shake your head, placing your hand on his chest. He’s not gonna do that. He has to make you come.

“You are not going anywhere, you get out of me and I’ll die!”

“So you’re ovulating?” He asks casually, with a playful grin spread across his face.

You chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder. 

“Yes, I am, and you gotta take care of me.”

Bucky groans, grabbing your ass, unable to keep his hands off you. You’re so hot and warm. “You’re really, really wet, princess.”

“Ihm.” You slide down further, almost taking all of his cock. “Look how deep I took you now.” You moan proudly, feeeling so stretched like this. “Look at this, daddy.”

And when he lets his eyes drop to your entrance, he has no idea how he doesn’t com right then. The sight is incredible.

“Baby…”

“I’m your baby, daddy.” You quickly take off your T-shirt at the same time you move your hips. As soon as he’s naked, you grab your breasts, holding them together with a smirk. You know that is going to affect him, and it makes you feel powerful.

“Oh God,” he groans as you bring your breasts closer to his mouth.

“Come on, daddy, go ahead.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he takes your right nipple into his mouth and the left one between his fingers. Riding him like this is a little difficult, but it’s not impossible. You love getting your breasts played with, and he loves doing it.

There is also something really hot and thrilling about the possibility of getting caught. You have no idea why and how, but you’re going to enjoy this as much as you can.

“You feel so good like this, nothing between us. Nothing between your come and me,” you moan, not even thinking about what you say.

“You can’t say that and expect me to be strong.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m on the pill, though, you don’t have to be strong.”

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He starts to thrust his hips back so he can meet you halfway. Riding him feels so, so good. You got him deeper, and the lack of a condom makes you properly feel his thickness.

“You feel so… Fuck, your cock is filling me just the way I need it.” You grab his shoulders so you can move faster. “You’re such a good daddy, let-letting me use you right here, where everyone could see us.”

“You love using daddy’s cock.” He looks so drunk, in so much pleasure. “Such a naughty girl.”

“I’m your naughty girl, James.”

“All mine.” His hands on your hips help you move faster indeed, and you’re already so close you can barely keep your eyes open.

“F-faster.”

Bucky stops thrusting his hips back, and you groan. You need more.

“If you want it faster, keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”

“I c-can’t-” As much as you want to fight this, your eyes instinctively close again. “Ss-so close.”

He can hear your desperation and without hesitating, he brings his hand into your hair and pulls unexpectedly hard. That’s enough for you to come loud. So loud you can hear yourself as you let the pleasure consume every bit of you.

But Bucky doesn’t stop moving his hips, making your orgasm last longer. He’s saying things, probably dirty things, in your ear, but you can’t understand anything. Your ears are still ringing.

And just like that, Bucky comes too, with his right hand still wrapped around your hair while the left one is digging into the skin of your hip.

“Fuck, I’m coming inside you, baby, can you feel it? Can you feel me filling your pussy, baby?”

“Ihm,” you can barely whisper, too overwhelmed by everything.

“Whose come?”

“Y-yours.”

“Good girl.” He groans as soon as he finishes coming, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “This feels like heaven.”

“I don’t think I can go back to wearing a condom now. I mean if you want to…”

“Are you sure? We can still use one just to make sure we are safer.”

You peck him. “We can still use it, don’t worry, I get it. Looking out for me and stuff.”

He lets out a deep breath, thankful you understand what he means.

“Of course I am looking out for you, that’s my job.”

“Job? You are my daddy, not my mom or dad.”

“I am your partner and your friend. I will always look out for you.”

A sudden urge to fuck him again takes over your body, but before you can do it, your phone starts ringing.

Bucky gives you the phone without moving, and when you both see it’s his brother, you groan.

“Hi, William.” You try to sound as normal as possible, but your voice is so raspy it’s impossible.

“Hey, gonna be home in a few minutes. Are you okay? Is Bucky home yet?”

“Ihm, he came.” You wink at James. “All good here. See you.”

You don’t wait for him to answer before you’re hanging up.

“You came too.”

You giggle immediately. It’s hard not to be around Bucky; he is goofy at the right time. “We need to clean up, though, he’s close.”

“Alright.”

*

Your parents didn’t want to listen to you at all. You didn’t have the chance to talk at the party since they’re avoiding you at all costs, and you had to go outside not to cry in front of everyone. You don’t just feel alone and treated like shit, you feel humiliated.

You’re lucky Bucky went to pick up William because his car broke down halfway here, so he didn’t actually witness your breakdown. You know he’d have done something about it. Something you should.

At this point, what do you really have?

“Hey, are you well? Why are you outside, it’s freezing?”

Bucky’s voice makes you jump as he’s suddenly by your side, rubbing your arms. William is right behind him.

“Baby, why are you outside?”

You see Bucky rolling his eyes, and you sigh.

“I wanted some fresh air, William.” You turn toward Bucky before taking a step back. You don’t want him to think you reject his touch. You really need his hug, but it’s not about what you need. “We should go inside.”

He nods, and all three of you make your way close to the improvised stage in the main room.

It’s crazy how many people actually came; it almost feels suffocating.

Your parents have been talking for a while, you assume, because people were animated. You wonder what they promised them.

“And since we’re all here now, I have something to announce,” Bucky’s dad takes the microphone all of a sudden, and William sighs. You want to ask him what is going on since he looks nervous, but you don’t have time to. “I want to invite my son, William, on the stage with us.”

And then he calls your name.

You look at both of your parents, trying to understand why you’d be needed there, and Bucky is just as confused as you are. Everyone starts clapping, and you find yourself dragged on the stage before you can protest.

“Tonight marks a very special moment for us both: professionally and personally.” You freeze, looking at Bucky instantly, but he’s also shocked, shaking his head. “A partnership that will last for a long time, hopefully, passed to a real-life partnership that has developed over the last months.”

William smiles proudly when his dad pats him on the back, and you want to throw up right then.

You turn your head to your parents, who display the fakest smiles you’ve ever seen. They don’t care about what you want. About what you need. Either way, you’re alone, and you cannot continue to play their game. You can’t!

And before anyone can stop you, you’re basically running down the stairs, straight toward Bucky. You quickly wrap your hand around his neck and force him to lean in so you can properly kiss him. You sense his surprise, but you don’t stop, using the opportunity to shamelessly kiss him in front of the whole company, including your parents. He’s yours, and everyone should know it.

He cups your face when you break off the kiss to breathe, and you smile.

You finally did it! You’re free.

You don’t need to turn around to know how upset your families must be. Everyone around you is either gasping or whispering around. You know they’ll be talking about this for a solid week at least, but you’re not gonna be there to hear. You won’t explain anything to them, and they can consider you a cheater who fucked the other brother all they want. It is not your mess to fix. You just want to leave.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, taking his hand. All you want is to eat something and suck him off. “I need to pack my stuff.”

“Are you sure?” He asks concerned as you start to walk toward the exit. Neither of you turns when William calls your names.

“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”

He says nothing as you reach his car, lifting the hand he’s been holding closer to his lips so he can brush a tender kiss against the back of it.

You’re going to be okay.

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624  @cjand10  @mayusenpai666  @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan @igotmajordaddyissues

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #boyfriend's brother!bucky #boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes #forbidden #fake dating #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan #my fanfics #my stories #marvel fanfics #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n

[tarjapearce]

Ley Del Hielo

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST. Strained and unhealthy relationships, break up, arguments.

Summary: You and Miguel say things you shouldn't say, a final straw in your already strained relationship.

Requested here

Hope you like ✨ (Yeah, Im a sucker for angst >:'))

At times you didn't know if you were fighting crime, or fighting to keep your sanity together. Miguel was for sure a difficult person to deal when he got into stubborn mode.

You were stuck in this limbo where your patience could only last for so long, even though your relationship with him wasn't falling apart completely, and there were little moments that actually made you stay, there were moments like this that made you wonder if sticking around him this far was a good idea.

"Don't."

You warned before sighing and shaking your head. You knew where this was going. He was getting frustrated over the fact that a teenager, an anomaly itself, as he liked to call the boy, had escaped his grasp.

It wasn't something you liked to discuss since you found each other's triggers, and you both exploited them with a temporary guilt-free anger, only to patch each other up, with little service acts that had drawn each other into your current relationship.

"Don't what?" He prodded with a sharp tone. He wasn't having a good day, and of course, the fact you were the only one that would actually stand him and his verbal retaliation, made you the perfect subject of 'With what are we hurting each other today?'

You didn't like the game but it was impossible for you to remain shut, whenever you felt things started to get personal. Like exposing each other's terrible traits.

"I'm not doing this today, Miguel."

"All I asked you was to know your input."

"You already damn know it."

"Miles needs to be stopped. We don't know how this will affect-"

"The canon. Yes. The fucking canon." you couldn't help but hiss in anger. A signal that you were done of hearing it.

"We have a day off, once in like, forever. And we are holed up here, trying to come up with ways to stop him. Fucking romantic" Your anger this time was justified or so you wanted to think. It was a rare occasion when he actually decided to take a break, and you both had decided to spend it as normal as you could.

Meaning, you both at home, away from the HQ, away from all the mess. Instead, you were in the lab with him. Again.

"We found a possible lead on where he might be. Can't miss a chance like this." His end of the floating bay was full of screens, cramming up with data and other information. Lyla had been long gone ever since the first hostility signal  was shot. You wished to be her for a minute.

"A bit of normalcy is all I'm asking. Is it that hard to get it?"

"We're not normal people."

"But we're still people nonetheless. You are obsessed with that boy."

"A threat to everything I have worked for!" His voice raised and it tugged rougher at your simmering hurt seams.

"I? You think only you had sacrificed shit to get where WE are?" even though raising your voice wasn't an habit you had, your patience had dictated it was enough.

"Look at our team, Miguel. It's divided because you're too stubborn to actually-"

"To actually what? Give a fuck for what might happen to all of us?"

"You hurted Miles!"

"I did not" He hissed while pointing an accusatory finger at you. "If I had actually done that I wouldn't be in this fucking mess trying to fix it, (Name)"

His breathings turned more agitated, as your voice trembled with anger. You were definitely baiting into his game.

"He is a kid, Miguel. A fucking fifteen year old that is barely hanging cause he is already taking grown ass people desicions. He's doing what he think it's right!"

"Im. Not. Risking it." each word felt more venomous than the other as they left his lips.

"What if it was your daughter trying to save you? "

But of course you had the annoying ability to turn it around in the worst way possible.

His eyes flashed red and his neck almost snapped by how quickly it turned to face you.

"No te atrevas..." (Don't you dare)

"Would you chase her down, and hurt her like you did with Miles?"

"CÁLLATE!" (Shut up)

he roared as his fangs and talons immediately poked out, his frame towering on you. And for the first time in forever, you were afraid of him. Silence crashed the emotional crescendo. He sighed, you followed but none of you were humble enough to speak.

-------

You were in your bedroom, removing the traces of dried tears from your face. You had gone home first, the need of fleeing the suffocating space you shared with Miguel was too fresh on your mind that the sheer thought of you going back, made you uncomfortable in a way you couldn't describe.

But there he was, stepping out the window, and removing his mask to then drop some plastic wraps of food on the dining table. A familiar scent egging you, or at least attempted to lure you out of the room. A failed first attempt on its own.

"Food's on the table." he mumbled from the doorframe as you put on a bit of moisturizer, "It's your favorite." Silence.

His brow pinched with a slight simmer of frustration.

Too soon.

He gave you space, and slept in the couch.

-----

Four days of pure silence, four days devoid of your acknowledgement, your voice, your touch, your acts of services like bringing him coffee in the morning, a little empanada in exchange for a kiss. Your presence.

You were not one to remain quiet, but the sudden, almost immediate change towards him, made him anxious to a certain degree. Despite you being in the same working station, you felt miles away. You didn't fear detachment, something you had once told him, but never believed, until now.

"(Name)" His voice called, first time, you ignored. He sighed and approached. Hearing his advancing footsteps only made your skin crawl and tears blur up to your eyes.

"I think we... should need a break from each other." your voice had stopped him dead in his tracks. His mouth tasted sour suddenly

"I've been thinking and it's the only rational approach for all of this... mess."

Heart pounded hard against his ribcage. His mouth gaped softly, but no words came out of it. His eyes darted to your hunched form. You looked tired, emotionally burnt out and almost... broken. It felt like a cold knife piercing through upon realization. He had pushed you too far.

" All we do is fight, and hurt each other. Im... Im tired of that. Work has turned in your main priority and..." you trailed off, tears menacing your eyes

"It has stopped being good. Good for us. I can't..." His eyes softened and his breath hitched, "I can't do this anymore, Miguel."

He had imagined such words coming from your mouth in many occasions but finally hearing them, were equally destroying. His heart beat faster

"I'm sorry" even though weak, an honest apology. You shook your head

"Sorry doesn't always fix it. Not this time I'm afraid."

His chest heaved as he approached you carefully. His hand reached for yours and tears finally rolled down your cheeks.

"It's not healthy."

"I know."

"We can't do this anymore."

"I don't want you to go" He mumbled. His hands reaching for you, you were still there in the flesh.

"We'll only end up hurting each other again." He shook his head as you voice broke.

Was this another canon event he wasn't aware of? You were slipping away through his fingers despite having you within his embrace, cradling you.

"I need to go"

Stay

His mind chanted despite his limbs loosening around you. Freeing you. His eyes settled on you and the relieved sigh you gave as he granted a much needed space.

His eyes locked into yours, there was no need to speak. A mutual understanding between you. You offered a small pat on his bicep, almost reassuring, hopeful. You left him be.

You'd be back. When you felt ready for it.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman astv #miguel o'hara angst #angst #astv x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #astv fanfic

[mushm00nsblog]

“A flower for you, my dear!”

Featuring: venti x reader, lyney x reader, ayaka x reader and lisa x reader (separate)

Synopsis: you’re on a date with them, when they suddenly give you a flower! how cute <3

Warnings: fluffy! Readers are already dating the character, reader is an implied female but there isn’t any pronouns used! Pet names ‘cutie’ and ‘dear’ are used! (Edited and refined)

Mush’s two cents: hello! this was just a cute lil idea for all these flirty genshin romancers that came to me as a shower thought. I originally thought of only the lyney one, but then I was like “erm I just wrote for lyney?? I need more characters!” and thought long and hard (it took me a few seconds) to come up with these. I wanted to make them all have different stories but make them off of the same concept, so I’m sorry if the repetition of the flower quote as you’ve seen before gets old... alas! I hope things appeal to your expectations. enjoy!

venti

You swung your legs back and forth slowly to the melody venti plays beautifully for your ears only on a branch of the Windrise tree.

His eyes were closed as his experienced fingers plucked the strings, you watched him closely, sighing an admiral sigh as you take in his painting-like appearance.

A sudden breeze flows up through the open air, and you watch as the god of anemo’s braids flow along with it— allowing the wind to guide your hair in the same direction as well.

The breeze doesn’t last long, but by the end of it, you eye a flower flying towards your direction, not batting an eye at it as all that mattered right now was your rhythmic lover..

Suddenly, right as the flower flies past both of you in the current, venti sticks an arm out to catch it swiftly, ending his lyre playing abruptly and pulling you out of your trance.

“Oh look! Here’s a flower!” He exclaims when he grabs it out from the gushing winds grasps.

Venti holds the flower up to you, chuckling softly as your expression changes to widened eyes, clearly not expecting that. “For you, my dear.”

The wind had stopped and all that you’re met with is ventis eyes, his hand extending a lovely Dandelion up to you.

Your cheeks warm up as you take the flower from his hands, smiling sweetly before looking back up into your lovers eyes.

“Thank you, venti..” you speak, softly, watching your lovers eyes flutter closed once more as he picks up a different melody on his instrument.

Afterwards: “venti! how’d you grab that flower so quickly?” “ehehe.. who’s to say I wasn’t the one that sent it this way?”

Lyney

Having not had seen your boyfriend, lyney for a while, you both opted to make time for each other at your place, setting up a comfortable space on your sofa for some quality time.

You were both on separate cushions, a card game of Genius Invocation TCG plastered out on the center cushion in the middle of you guys.

As far as it seemed, you were winning the card game so far, having all 3 of your cards still playing as only two of lyneys were left.

He let out a playful gasp when you took down his first card, having him looking up at you with a little pout before he resets his facial expression to his usual smile.

“I admire your handiwork!” *he says with a playful glint in his eyes, before he suddenly looks as if he’d noticed something.

“Hey.. what’s that behind your ear?” he questions, making you take your eyes off the card game and focus on what exactly is behind your ear.

He leans forward, moving his hand behind your ear, reaching for something before pulling his hand back into your view, holding a rainbow rose!

Your eyes beamed as you gasped. “Oh look at that! It’s a flower!” he exclaims, putting on an act as if he wasn’t the one that made it appear. “For you, my dear”

You take the rainbow rose into your hands excitedly, your eyes shining as your admire the rose, blushing softly when your eyes meet his as you remember the meaning behind gifting rainbow roses.

“Thank you lyney!” You thank him, excitedly leaning in close to him and hovering over the cards to place a quick kiss to his cheek. “Let me go put this somewhere safe now..”

With that, lyney nods and watches you walk not too far away, placing your lovely new rainbow rose in a vase and setting it down on your coffee table in front of the sofa.

“There!” As you set down the flower, you admire it proudly, taking your seat a few seconds later.

“hey! what happened to my cards??” “now you see it now you don’t! looks like I win!”

Ayaka

You watched mesmerizingly as Ayaka finishes her Sakura Bloom Dance in Chinju forest, applauding once she finishes and watching her bow with a sweet smile on her face.

“Wow, Ayaka… I’ve seen this dance so many times.. but each time I see it I’m always amazed.” You say, sighing out when you finish speaking, and she lets out a little giggle at your compliment.

“Thank you, I do appreciate your admiring.” She replies sweetly. “There is something different about this dance in particular though..”

When she mentions that something was different about the dance she performed this time, you were lost. You hadn’t noticed anything but to be honest, you also felt like nothing changed about it.

You tilt your head, straightening out a bit as you wonder what she’s referring to, inevitably drawing a blank and asking her what it was.

She chuckled softly, looking off to the side and opening her fan to block her face before walking towards you, hiding something behind her back.

When she reaches you, she pulled out a bouquet of Sakura Blooms, handing them to you with her face hidden behind her fan.

“These flowers are for you.. my dear.”

Once you take the flowers: “ayaka? are you blushing?” “ah.. perhaps— maybe a little bit.”

Lisa

You often find yourself in the Favonius Library, reading countless of books all afternoon alongside your girlfriend, Lisa when she voices her complaints about nobody coming into the library as of late.

It had turned into a regular occurrence, and now the two of you find yourself here for dates as well.

That brings you to where you are now, sharing some tea with your lover whilst reading separate books at one of the library tables.

You had your head down in a book when she closed hers, letting out a yawn before she begins to play with some electricity in her hands.

Noticing her immediately once she closes her book, you pick up your head and look at what she’s doing, noticing that she’s forming something out of electro!

“Oooh what’s that, Lisa?” You ask, leaning forward a bit.

She looks at you once she notices you’ve seen what she was doing, her usual smile appearing on her face as she forms the object she was making quicker and placing it on the book you were reading.

“Hm..? See for yourself.” She says, pointing towards the object on your book before leaning her hands on the table, watching you look down to see… a purple rose!

“Wowww..! It’s so pretty!” You say, reaching your hand out for it before feeling a sudden zap against your fingers- making you pull back with a gasp and look at your hand.

Lisa only chuckled when she watched this, making you blush a bit out of embarrassment.

“Did you feel the spark, cutie~?”

Afterwards: “lisa! thats not funny!” “awh.. well what did you expect cutie~?” “..staaaaaaahhhp…”

aaaaaaah it’s currently 1:50 AM 😭😭I’m so sorry if this is out of character or doesn’t make sense, I was a little out of it while making it tonight since I’m a bit tired.

Reblogs are deeply appreciated!

#genshin impact #lyney x y/n #lyney smut #lyney x you #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact venti #kamisato ayaka #genshin ayaka #lisa #lisa genshin impact #lisa genshin fanart #genshin fluff #lyney fluff #venti fluff #venti smut #lisa smut #ayaka smut #ayaka fluff #lisa x reader #genshin fanfic #fanfic #not proofread

[hells-wasabii]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well! <3 I was wondering if you could maybe do a silly fluffy drabble or hc list or a bit of both for a shy fem!reader and Sir Pentious who are 100% in love with each other but absolutely oblivious that the other loves them bc they’re too busy being self-conscious, anxious messes to notice the signs. Maybe someone else like Charlie or Angel Dust has to step in and hype them up so they’ll confess to each other directly <3

hi there! I decided to go half and half with this one! I had some fun with this one!

Character: Sir Pentious

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Sir Pentious x shy fem!reader, Fluff)

He’s honestly just as shy as you. Sir Pentious had a habit of leaving you little gifts and flowers with notes and poems attached. The rest of the hotel is dragged into it, too. Often they were the ones who brought you these gifts of admiration, citing a secret admirer when pressed about who had sent them. 

Honestly, anything to help the two of you finally get together. It was painful to watch the two of you dance around each other. Even Alastor had commented on it, but even then the two of you remained oblivious to each other’s feelings. A majority of the other occupants of the hotel were content with leaving the two of you to your devices. Angel and Charlie on the other hand, not so much.

And so, the two decided that enough was enough, something had to be done. This wasn’t Angel’s first time playing matchmaker, nor would it be his last. The only problem was, he didn’t have too much to work with. So he took the both of you out to a club You were both a little out of your depths, and getting either of you wasted didn’t work either. Charlie took a more civil approach. Confessions. Both approaches went as well as one would expect.

But no one could have expected what brought the two of you together.

Another failed attempt to confess. You couldn’t help but feel a little dejected, after all, you’d tried really hard this time. Sometimes it was just so hard to say what you meant around him. At least your admirer had left you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, so the day wasn’t too terrible. Sure, your heart already belonged to another, but truly you couldn’t deny how beautiful the arrangement was, it wouldn’t be right to let the flowers go to waste.

Now if you could just find a vase…

That was how you found yourself snooping around in a nearby hallway closet filled with old decorum. You could see the vase for them too, a lovely little thing black with gold and red accents. The only problem was it was just barely out of reach, even stretching as far as you could. Just a little more and you were sure you could grab it. And you did, the porcelain container was finally in your grasp!

“Hi, pretty lady!” You let out a shriek as you whipped around, raising the vase above your head, ready to  Only it wasn’t an intruder at all, instead merely one of the Egg Bois. If you recall correctly, this particular one’s name was Frank. You weren’t proud to admit it, but the little minion had startled you. You were about to greet the little guy, only just as you were about to speak, the Egg Boi began again. “Did you like your flowers? Boss had us help pick those specially for you! Pretty flowers for a pretty lady he said!” 

“Sir Pentious… got these for me?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Pentious had been the one to get you the flowers? Maybe you had heard wrong, but Frank’s shelly smile grew, pride practically rolling off the eggy little minion in waves. 

“Yeah! We picked them out just for you! ” As blood rushed to your ears. That could only mean-

It makes so much sense now. The way he would light up when he saw you with one of the gifts or admiring the flowers. Gosh, how had you not noticed? 

He had been your admirer all along.

“Oh, Pentious.” His name came out in a whisper, your cheeks heating up wonderfully. He had been your admirer all along. You couldn’t help the lovesick grin that came to your lips. “You’re such a sap.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #sir pentious #sir pentious x reader

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Finale:

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only—i choose not to list warnings for this one as not to spoil anything but you know how we get down over here on GMNO, happy endings only. read at your own discretion.) unedited/not proofread (for now)

wc: 7k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

June, 2004

“Don’t you dare,” Joel ordered as he surprised you from the doorway of your bedroom—your former bedroom.

You stood in front of a stack of cardboard boxes labeled “linens”, your hands resting on two sides as though you were caught mid-lift. He walked over to you with a smirk, shaking his head before lifting the box for you.

“You’re already carrying enough,” he said, eyes falling to your swollen belly, six-months into your first pregnancy.

“I think I’m more than capable of carrying a box of sheets,” you countered with a matching smirk, reaching for the box that sat below the one he just stole from you.

“Uh-uh,” Tommy came rushing in, sweeping the box from your grasp. “You got my nephew to worry about.”

“How do you know I’m having a boy?” you asked, following your fiancé and soon-to-be brother in law out of your old home to watch them load the moving truck.

“I can just feel it,” he replied, earning a smile from his older brother.

“I’m still hopin’ for another girl,” Joel admitted as he walked down the rickety metal ramp to meet you as you stood in the walkway, his hands sliding over your belly to rest on your waist. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips before letting you go. “You should go sit in the sunroom with Sarah and Jessie. Make sure they’re keepin’ room for Jesus and all that.”

“Oh, let them be. Not like we have to worry about teen pregnancy—“

“Alright, alright.” Joel covered his ears, wincing at the thought. “Still, I don’t want you workin’ too hard.”

“Joel, I promise, I’m not working hard at all. You and Tommy won’t give me the chance.”

“That’s how it should be,” he countered, walking inside the house with you following behind.

“Guys, guess what?” Sarah and her newly defined girlfriend, Jessie burst into the half-packed kitchen as you stood slowly making your way through your pantry, organizing a keep pile and a donate pile. Joel lifted a brow at her as he started on taking the metal barstools that stood at your kitchen island apart so that they could take up less room in the truck. “Britney Spears is coming to San Antonio next month.”

“Praise to the heavens,” Joel mumbled under his breath, earning a chuckle from you as you rolled you eyes at his lackluster reaction.

“That’s fun!” you replied, looking at the two fifteen year-olds. “How much are tickets?”

“Like thirty bucks,” Jessie sighed, frowning. “My mom’s gonna make me work at the restaurant to earn it.”

“Well, she’s got the right idea,” Joel stood, having disassembled the first stool. “Sarah, why don’t you come work with me and Tommy this week and I’ll buy your ticket.”

“Really?” she asked with a hopeful smile before remembering her fathers line of work. “Wait—at the site? I won’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure we can find somethin’ for you to do.”

“Yeah, I mean…Britney’s worth it,” Sarah sighed and shrugged before walking back into the sunroom with Jessie in tow.

“Hey, did I tell you we got a new hire?” Joel spoke to you as he started on the second stool.

“Oh, that’s good. I thought you were having trouble finding someone?”

“We were, but she got the seal of approval from Tommy. Guess she’s a real jack-of-all-trades type’a builder. S’just what we needed.” You smiled at him proudly, his construction company having taken off this last year and a half. They were almost too busy, too booked, leaving Joel and Tommy to stay behind and work the amount of four people instead of two just so that their projects remained on time. “Hopefully might start gettin’ two days off a week instead of one.”

“That would be nice,” you hummed, walking over to him to slide your hand over his sweaty but irresistible back as he crouched down to unscrew some bolts from the legs of the stool. “I’ve been like a lonely little housewife these last few months. Holed up waiting for my man to come back from the coal mines.”

“Oh, is that right?” He looked up at you with a smirk. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had last been together, long days at the site and, for you, at school forcing you apart. Aside from a few steamy but quick makeouts, you were left longing for your soon-to-be husband. “I been neglectin’ you, huh?”

You nodded, your smile spreading wider as you played along, your voice dramatic and theatrical as you tried on an old-timey southern belle persona. “All I got is this baby I’m brewing to remember you by.”

Joel stood up and dropped his tools on the kitchen counter before letting his hands find your waist, tugging you as close to him as your belly would allow. He leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek that caused your entire body to light with chills as his kisses traveled down your neck.

“Why don’t I take you into the bedroom and give you that attention you’ve been needin’ so bad,” he rasped against your skin, dizzying your mind as you clung to him, breathless and wanting.

“House full of people,” Tommy’s voice sounded, reminding the two of you why you’d gone so long without each other in the first place. “Thought this would be done by now. Been, what, three years?”

“Don’t mind him, his longest relationship has been with the goddamn Longhorns,” Joel mumbled, keeping you hugged to his body. “Don’t know a thing about real love.”

“Yeah, yeah, save me the lecture, old man.” Tommy batted his brother’s teasing away and continued on packing and moving in the living room.

“Have I really been neglectin’ you, baby? All jokes aside,” Joel asked in a whisper pressed to your ear. You squeezed him closer and laid your head on his chest, Joel’s chin resting on top of it as he held you.

“No, I mean…I do miss you, and it has been a while since we last were together, but you’re not neglecting me. You still come home and hold me and talk to me and makeout with me,” you spoke softly, your voice a soothing hum against his chest. “We’re tired people, and especially now with the baby…I didn’t expect you to be clawing my clothes off when I look like a whale—“

“Excuse me?” he snapped, pulling your head from his chest so he could sternly look into your eyes. “None’a that. You’re beautiful…carryin’ our baby. Drives me fuckin’ wild seein’ you like this. M’sorry I haven’t been energized enough to show it, but I promise you, baby…you’re drivin’ me crazy walkin’ around like this.”

His hands slipped to squeeze the globes of your ass that had grown along with your belly and hips and, well, everything else.

“Tommy’s gonna see,” you scolded in a whisper as Joel’s fingers pinched the fabric of your dress until it started to lift, allowing his hands to rest against your skin and the cotton of your panties. Weaker and breathier, you exhaled, “Or the girls.”

“I promise no one’s gonna see,” he rasped, pressing his against your neck.

“Dad, come out here quick! There’s—oh my god! There’s a scorpion!” Sarah’s high-pitched squeal had Joel rushing out into the sunroom, his teasing long forgotten as he searched the room frantically. Sarah pointed in the corner and Joel spotted it, black and bigger than any scorpion he’d seen before.

“How the hell’d you get in here?” he muttered to the insect as he guided the girls inside the house before coming inside as well to grab a cup and the dust pan.

You stood in the frame of the sliding glass door, watching him as he carefully approached the scorpion as though he was Steve Irwin approaching a crocodile.

“They don’t jump, do they?” you asked, wincing as Joel started to make contact, guiding it towards the cup. The girls were behind you as though you were a shield, both of them letting out a squeal when the scorpion tried to strike Joel’s wrist, just barely missing. “Joel, just leave it! This can just be his house now, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh, hush,” Joel barked, keeping focused on the task before him. With either skill or luck, Joel managed to sweep the ground-hog sized scorpion into the glass cup and placed the dust pan over the mouth to keep him inside. “See, I got it.”

“Dad, don’t!” Sarah got gravely serious, sternly ordering her father to remain where he was with a point of her finger. Joel grinned and continued over, making both of the girls squeal and run off through the house.

“It’s so gross,” you cringed, leaning over to look at it through the glass with extreme caution and hesitancy.

“I don’t know,” Joel lifted it to his eye level to study it. “I think he’s kinda cool lookin’. Maybe we can keep ‘em as a pet.”

“Yeah, ri-IGHT—Joel!” you shrieked in terror as he pushed the glass towards you with a bark, making you jump backwards. Joel cackled as he watched you stand with your hand over your heart, your stern eyes watching him unamused. “That wasn’t funny.”

“I thought it was,” he chuckled. You watched him walk out to the backyard and set his new friend free, your heart still thumping in your chest. “Gotta get your heart rate up every now and then.”

“I don’t think you do.” Joel laughed and walked to hold you but was stopped by your hand pushing against his chest. “No, you don’t get to touch me. I almost pissed myself!”

Joel laughed again, proud of his prank. “God, it was good.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied. I can promise you that’s the only satisfaction you’re gonna get for a while, pal.” Joel poured immediately, following you as you walked through the house out to the front yard where Tommy, Sarah, and Jessie laid out in the grass, staring up at the sky. “Everybody, we’re shunning Joel.”

“What?” he chuckled, looking at you with amusement and affection, so rarely seeing you worked up like this.

“Sure thing,” Tommy replied, mellow and relaxed as he looked at the clouds, a beer in his hand.

“Sounds good,” Jessie agreed before pointing at the sky. “That’s a dragon.”

“Yeah it is,” Sarah agreed. “And why are we shunning dad?”

“He threw the scorpion at me.” You knew you were exaggerating, your smirk growing as you watched Joel scoff at the claim, a look of amazement on the entire time.

“I did no such thing,” he defended. “I jumped it at her—“

“Oh, that’s right. He jumped it at me,” you repeated, still smirking at him. “A pregnant woman.”

“Oh, the pregnancy card again,” Joel playfully sighed, earning a gasp from you.

“Pregnancy card? How dare you?” you laughed. “I rest my case, Sarah.”

“Alright, yeah. Dad’s shunned.” Joel rolled his eyes at you before walking over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he sang, widening your already smitten grin. “I promise not to throw any more scorpions at ya. You forgive me now?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, melting into him.

“I ain’t shunned?” he murmured, kissing your shoulder innocently.

“No, but the threat’s always there. As you just saw, I have the votes.” Joel chuckled against your skin.

“Trust me, I know my place.”

A Week Later

It was a Friday, you’d been stuck at the house all alone, Sarah off with her dad at the site to earn her Britney Spears ticket money. After doing a few hours of nesting, marrying your things to Joel’s around the house, you perked up at the sight of Joel’s name on the caller ID of your cell.

“Hi,” you sang with a smile.

“Hey baby,” he greeted. “Was wonderin’ if you could pick me and Sarah up in about a half hour?”

“Ooo, I get you home early tonight?” Your smile turned into a grin.

“Yeah, but Sean’s havin’ a barbecue at his place. Invited the whole crew so I guess we should show up.”

“Well, I’m in.”

“See you in a little?”

“Sounds good, baby.”

You smiled as you flipped your cell shut, but the task of dressing yourself quickly wiped your grin away.

You felt like a whale in everything these days, and despite Joel’s eagerness for you each and every day, you felt like a stranger to yourself. Even in the dresses you’d been living in, you felt every change in the way your body used to fill them out. You quickly shooed the insecurity from your mind and dressed yourself for comfort before heading out to go pick the Miller’s up.

Rolling into the construction site, you spotted Joel and Sarah standing in the dirt parking lot out in front of the project, a woman in front of them talking. You furrowed your brows as you got closer, seeing that whoever this woman was, she was pretty—the kind of pretty that makes you wonder why the hell she’s here in a construction lot instead of on billboards and magazine covers.

Your chest felt tight with insecurity as you pulled up to them, hoping with all your might that Joel didn’t try to introduce you to Construction-Barbie.

“Alright, Meg. See ya at the party.” Joel waved to her as he opened the backseat for Sarah, a friendly—too friendly—smile on his face when he hopped in the passenger seat. “Hey baby,” Joel leaned forward for a kiss but you were still too jealous to oblige, giving him your cheek instead. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you lied, nodding as you pulled out of the lot, the rest of the drive silent besides the pop on the radio and Sarah's soft hums.

After giving the two of them time to change into nicer clothes, all three of you piled into the car again with Joel in the driver's seat. Sarah talked about her day at work, how cool it was to work with Meg, and how surprising it was that the newcomer managed to make her dad laugh. You tried not to picture the scene.

Joel stopped at a grocery store, running in quickly to grab some beer and a few bags of chips to bring to the party while you and Sarah remained in the car.

“Meg sounds great,” you spoke, unable to keep your jealousy to yourself.

“She’s alright,” Sarah replied, seemingly noticing your insecurity. “A little chatty.”

“Your dad didn’t seem to mind,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.

“She was a little flirty,” Sarah replied. “But dad didn’t seem to notice.”

You tried to shake the jealousy, knowing that it was silly and hormone-driven. Joel loved you. But that didn’t mean that he still couldn’t find someone else attractive at the same time.

At the party, you kept mostly to yourself. You were introverted on a good day, but with this heavy insecurity weighing you down, you found yourself retreating inward while everyone else mingled and carried on.

You were inside the house of Joel’s lead plumber, his wife buzzing around the house as she tried to corral her five children under five. You sat in the living room, watching and praying yours didn’t come out like that—loud and disobedient and restless.

“So, how far along are you?” she asked, breathless as she gave up and sat down on the loveseat across from you.

“Six months,” you replied with a small but friendly smile. “Got any advice for me?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Besides not havin’ ‘em in the first place? I don’t know—sleep whenever you can. They’ll suck the life outta you if you let ‘em.”

“A little bleak, honey,” Sean, her husband, walked in through the patio door, Joel following behind him.

“It’s the truth,” she argued, giving him a passive aggressive sigh. “It ain’t easy. ‘Specially if there’s only one parent home to do it.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, trying to ease the tension.

You stood, ready to venture beyond the tension anf chaos of the house, even if it meant having to enter the crowded backyard.

“You comin’ out?” Joel asked, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted it and let him walk you outside. “That was brutal in there.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. Joel’s eyes scanned you as you stood beside him, staring ahead.

“You sure you’re alright? Been awfully quiet,” he noted.

“Yeah, just…feeling a little off today,” you lied.

Spotting a familiar head of strawberry blonde curls snorting with laughter as she stood with Tommy and Sarah by the grill. They both looked comfortable around her, making your stomach curl with a new type of jealousy. She wanted your entire family.

“Joel!” she called once she caught you staring. “Come over here and join us, darlin’!”

You resented the petname. Turning to Joel, you watched as his cheeks flushed, his eyes flickering to yours.

“C’mon,” he looked to you fully, attempting to slide his hand across your back but you stopped him, swatting his arm away. “Baby,” he began, but you were already too worked up to be consoled. “She calls everybody that.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you muttered.

“Baby, you ain’t really jealous, are you?” He chuckled. Wrong move. With a furrow in your brow, you reached your hands into his pockets and tugged out the keys to the car.

“I’m going home. Call me when you wanna be picked up from your date.”

Joel called after you only once, not wanting to make a scene by raising his voice or following you out.

Back at home, you stewed. What started as hormonal territorialism quickly snowballed into justified rage. She’d clearly met your eyes, seeing you standing there beside him, and ignored you. Then, she proceeded to flirt with him right in front of you. Joel did nothing about it except for defend her, which was what you were currently most angry about.

As you aggressively turned the pages of the book you were reading to distract yourself, you were surprised to see headlights through the window. Closing your book, you got up and peeled through the blinds to see Joel and Sarah stepping out of a taxi, your cheeks heating as guilt set in. You didn’t mean for Sarah to get involved in your fight with Joel.

Hurrying upstairs, you heard the front door open, the two of them speaking downstairs but it was too faint to make any sense. As you stood in the bathroom, hurting your clothes off so that you could jump in the shower, you felt more than heard Joel’s heavy footsteps up the staircase. Soon, after you stepped into the shower, Joel found his way into the bathroom, announcing himself in the doorway.

“We’re home.” His voice was gentle, but carried a sadness to it that made you feel less angry and more guilty.

“Okay,” you managed.

“Can I come in?” he asked, the question lingering in the air for a bit before you answered.

“Yeah,” you decided.

In the matter of a few seconds, Joel was stripped and stepping in behind you, his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m sorry,” he started, stepping closer to you and the stream of water. “I told her that pet-name stuff wasn’t cool with me, but I guess she ain’t as good at listenin’ as she is talkin’.”

“She’s pretty,” you replied, desperate to keep hold of this jealousy.

“Tommy thinks so,” Joel added.

“And you?” He shook his head and rested his hands on the swell of your stomach.

“I’m too busy thinkin’ about you,” he replied. “Thinkin’ ‘bout our family.”

“I know you love me, Joel. It’s not about that,” you sighed, moving to turn around but he stopped you before you could even flinch, forcing you to look at him when you continued. “I want you to think I’m…pretty like that. To want me.”

“You don’t think I want you?” He chuckled, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “For someone who ‘doesn’t want you’, I sure seem to paw at you every minute of every day.”

“I guess you’re right,” you chuckled, finally seeing the light beyond all the dark gray that this storm of jealousy and insecurity you were caught in. “Just seeing you with someone so pretty, who does what you do—“

“First off, she’s alright. She ain’t half as good as Tommy promised me was. M’pretty sure they’re fuckin’ and that’s why he recommended her.” You laughed. “Secondly, I need you to know that it doesn’t matter who I’m standin’ next to. I’m only ever thinkin’ about the next time I get to see you.”

“You’re good at this,” you smiled, reaching to hold his face in your hands. “Defusing the bomb that is a pregnant woman’s mind.”

“You know…I think that’s the first time I ever saw you jealous,” he hummed, leaning in to press a soft, teasing kiss on your lips.

“It happens a lot, I’m just usually good at hiding it,” you whispered back, stealing a few kisses for yourself. “Think you should prepare yourself for more of this crazy. Might be this way until the baby comes.”

“I like the crazy,” he smiled.

Five years later — December 25th, 2009

“Iris, watch out—“ Your five year old daughter ran full speed through the kitchen and living room, your two year old son, Miles, clumsily chasing her with his brand new stuffed dinosaur. It was hard to be mad at either of them, their giggles filling the room along with the crunch of the wrapping paper littering the carpet beneath their feet.

“Alright,” Joel scooped both of his children up and threw them over his shoulder, earning squeals and laughter as he walked them over to the couch you were sitting on. He plopped kids onto your lap but only Miles stayed. Joel sighed and sat down beside you as Iris got up again, a mischievous grin on her face as she stood before the three of you, all eyes on her. “Well,” Joel started, lifting his hands before dropping them back onto his lap. “We paid for a show. Are you gonna sing for us, Hannah Montana?”

“Daddy, where’s the phone?” Iris asked, making a fist and then tapping it to help illustrate what she wanted.

“The microphone? Somewhere in all this mess,” you replied, gesturing to the mountain of wrapping paper on the floor. “Gotta go fishing for it, baby.”

Iris quickly got to work, making an arguably bigger mess as she searched for her brand new toy, a microphone that was supposed to be its own speaker as well, but truthfully wasn’t much louder than Iris’s voice.

“Hey, hey!” Sarah walked in the front door with a smile, two large bags in her hands stuffed full of wrapped presents. When she took in the mess, she frowned. “Ah, did you guys already do gifts?”

“Iris already had them open before we even got downstairs,” Joel replied as he walked to the door to take the bags from his now twenty year-old’s hands before giving her a tight hug. “Martin come along?”

Martin was Sarah’s boyfriend of two years, the pair meeting in her biology class freshman year of college.

“Yeah, he’s getting the bags,” Sarah replied before coming over to hug you tight.

“How are you? How’s school?” You missed having Sarah at the house but were more than proud of her for getting into the pre-med program at Stanford.

“School is school, but it’s been way easier now that we aren’t living in the dorms anymore.”

“Sissy!” Iris rushed up to her sister and waved her new Hannah Montana microphone in her face. “Sing with me.”

“Oh…yay,” Sarah forced a smile but looked to you for help.

“How about we open the gifts sissy brought instead?” you proposed and your daughter instantly agreed.

“How was the drive?” Joel spoke to Martin as he helped him carry the bags upstairs to Sarah’s old bedroom.

“Not too bad. Sarah snored the entire way.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Think she gets it from me.”

When Joel and Martin returned from the second floor, they immediately found their spots beside their partners, each of them making the same pained groan as they sat down.

“God,” you chuckled, looking to Sarah who was already looking at you. “They’re the same person.”

“Gross. Hate that.”

“You gonna pass out the gifts or what?” Joel asked, unamused by the comparison.

As Sarah and Martin sorted out the gifts, handing a few to Iris, a few to Miles, two to you and one to Joel. Joel shook his head at the box handed to him, but Sarah’s round eyes got her her way every single time.

“Told you no gifts for me,” Joel grumbled as he ripped the wrapping. “Don’t want you spendin’ your money—“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she smiled, sitting down beside her boyfriend. “I think you’ll like this one. It’s a gift for everybody, but I think you’re going to have the most fun with it.”

You watched him rather than opening your own gifts, the small black box in his hand opening to reveal a key. Joel looked up with boyish eyes, shocked and excited and near tears all at the same time.

“What is it?” you asked, plucking the key from his hand.

“This ain’t—how—what?” Joel spoke through his shock.

“What’s it a key to?” you asked again, chuckling at the tears welling up in your husband’s eyes.

“My parents used to own this beat up old ranch in San Antonio, but had to sell it off when Sarah was a kid. I always wanted to buy it back and fix it up, but I just…never got around to it,” Joel finally replied to your questioning, turning to you with wet eyes and a big smile before looking at his daughter and her boyfriend. “How did—“

“My dad’s a realtor and knew the guy who was selling it, so Sarah and I put our money together to buy it back,” Martin detailed.

“In your name, so don’t get too excited. Mortgage isn’t gonna be that bad because we got it at twenty thousand and we put down a decent down payment,” Sarah added. “So, just a few hundred a month.”

“Baby girl,” Joel shook his head and looked down at the key. “How much do I owe y’all—“

“Dad, you took care of me my whole life. You deserve this. Besides, I just signed with a publisher for my book, so—“

“What?” you practically squealed, Miles covering his ears as he sat in your lap. “Congrats, baby girl!”

“Thank you, thank you,” she smiled and bowed, bringing your eyes to the shining rock on her ring finger. Joel seemingly noticed it too because his clapping suddenly ceased.

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes shifting to Martin’s nervous stare.

“Shit—we were gonna announce it at dinner so Uncle Tommy could be here too, but…” She looked to her boyfriend. “We’re engaged.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands lifting to your mouth to hide the joy in your smile. “I’m so happy. Oh my god!”

“That’s bad, mommy,” Iris scolded. You nodded but pointed at Sarah’s ring.

“I known, but sissy’s getting married, baby!”

“Dad?” Sarah spoke to her father who sat frozen in shock. You turned to him as well, studying him carefully for any signs of anger or disappointment, but instead found only pride and joy. “Please don’t be mad. Martin wanted to ask first but I told him that’s too old school—“

“Baby, I’m not mad,” he assured softly, shaking his head as his eyes welled with fresh tears. “I’m just so happy.”

“Oh, dad,” Sarah cooed, her own eyes shedding tears as she walked over to hug her father close as he stood up. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby girl. So much.” Joel squeezed her once more before letting her go and turning to her fiancé. “And you too by proxy.”

After a long afternoon spent beside Joel at the computer studying the state of the ranch from the pictures Martin pulled up from the realtor, it was decided that Joel would take weekends off of work—not that he usually worked them anymore, the business having taken off so much that it forced him into a more managerial role—and drive down to the ranch to work on it, the kids and you invited of course but he understood if you didn’t want to, after all, “It ain’t gonna be pretty for a while, baby”. You agreed to let him check it out in person first before coming along because it seemed a little too dangerous for the kids with the property’s long, unmowed yard and old, untouched cabin.

Dinnertime came and so did Tommy and his girlfriend of one year—who also happened to be your good friend and a successful attorney—Maria, the two of them walking into a cleaner home than the one Sarah and Martin were greeted with. She had a six year old son, Kevin, who loved to play with your babies every time he came over.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy held up Sarah’s left hand to stare at the ring. “You were just a snot-nosed kid a second ago.”

“Yep,” she giggled.

“Well,” Tommy dropped her hand and looked to Martin, giving him a handshake. “You know who you’re gonna answer to if you hurt her.”

“Alright,” Joel interjected as he returned to the kitchen table that the adults were sat at while the kids played in the living room, The Grinch on in the background to busy them even more. He set a bottle of beer down in front of each of you, but Marin was quick to slide her bottle away from her. “No? And I bought the good shit just to impress y’all.”

“It’s just…” She looked to Tommy for help, the younger Miller smirking as he turned to the table.

“We’re havin’ a baby,” he announced and the table roared with applause and cheers. Joel’s smile was the widest, the two brothers locking eyes. Joel lifted his beer up to toast to life and the rest of you gladly clinked your bottles together in agreement. To life, indeed.

March, 2010

“So,” Joel started, a proud but nervous grin on his face as you climbed out of the passenger seat of the car to get a good look at the ranch. “What d’ya think?”

The long, unmowed grass was now trimmed neatly, making the land look so much bigger. Joel had fixed the gate, but you noticed that when he pulled in; he made sure to have a sign placed at the entrance reading “Miller Ranch” to properly fulfill his lifelong dream. The old, rickety cabin was now renovated and converted into a private den in case Sarah and Martin ever wanted to come stay for a while. Beside it stood a brand new ranch house, modest in size compared to the surrounding ranches, but it was big enough to hold three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, and a living room. But the part you loved most was the wrap-around porch he built by hand, painted a soft, pale yellow to contrast to the white of the home.

“I think,” you started, a smile growing on your face. “I wanna live here now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled and approached you at the passenger side door, pressing you against it. “Why don’t we go inside? Maybe…test it out.”

“Mm, might as well take advantage of Tommy and Maria watching the kids,” you replied, your lips ghosting over his.

Joel tugged you along by the hand up the gravel driveway, allowing you the time to admire the little details like the swing he built onto the big oak tree between the den and the house, or the sneak peek you caught of rose bushes in the backyard. With each detail, you fell more and more in love with the property, and what was once a joke now turned into a serious longing—you wanted to move here. Bad.

“Ready?” Joel asked as he opened the screen door and rested his hand on the doorknob of the main, wooden door painted that same, soft yellow. You nodded at him and he opened the house, letting you walk in first, he flipped on the lights behind you as he entered. You gasped at the living room, how spacious but cozy it felt with a fireplace built in, not that the San Antonio weather ever really called for it.

Turning to the other side, you saw the dining room that connected into the kitchen via a square archway. You started that way, admiring the hand-made dining table before walking into the kitchen of your dreams. You let out a moan at the size of it, the brand new appliances that were a surprise but don’t worry, they’re on a lease.

Back in the hall, you carried on, admiring the framed pictures he’d hung of your joined family over the years, the smiling image of Sarah’s mother and Mary and Paul and everyone you’d lost bringing tears to your eyes.

“This is gonna be Miles’ room,” Joel opened the door to a room set up for a kid rather than a toddler aside from the bed with safety rails on it. You smiled at the thought of your son growing up here.

“And this?” you reached for the door across the hall and opened it to find a bathroom, modest but new.

“Kids bath,” he replied. Guiding you to the room beside Miles’, Joel opened it and displayed a soft pink painted bedroom that Iris was going to absolutely adore. “For baby girl.”

“Which means this has to be our room, right?” you asked, reaching for the door across from your daughter's room. “Little close, no?”

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He made a lot of noise, or at least that’s what you assumed from his heavy feet jumping on the hardwood floors, but you couldn’t hear much of anything. When he emerged, he was breathless and smiling. “Hear anything?”

“Felt you jumping around, but no,” you grinned. “You soundproofed it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Took me a while to get it right but…we can make all the noise we want now.”

“Well,” you began, sliding your hands up his chest as you batted your eyes at him. “Why don’t we give it a proper go?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss you teasingly, forcing you to seek more of his mouth in yours. “Come on,” he rasped, tugging you into the bedroom. “There’s one more surprise on the tour before I can get you naked. Go take a look in the bathroom.”

You did as you were told, leaving him by the bed to walk into the en-suite. You gasped at the clawfoot tub perched by a large bay window, looking out at the garden of flowers he’d planted.

“Joel…you—“ You shook your head, eyes now raining tears as you stood in the middle of the bathroom. Joel laughed and came over to hold you as you buried your face in his chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby,” he chuckled, amused by your reaction. “You like it, I take it?”

“Like it?” you lifted your head and shocked him with the amount of tears soaking your eyes. “I’m about to get down on my knees.”

“You can get down on your knees after I get my fill, how about that?” he husked against your cheek as he kissed your tears. “Go lay down on the bed, baby. Everything off.”

You didn’t waste any time in obeying, practically skipping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Your shoes and jeans came off first, then your top, and finally your undergarments before you climbed onto the mattress to test it out. Joel walked in but remained patient at the foot of the bed as you laid in the center of the mattress, beckoning him closer with the curl of your finger. Joel grinned and peeled his t-shirt off before slowly, painfully slowly, undoing his belt and jeans.

“Roll over,” he commanded. “Wanna see somethin’.”

“I wonder, what ever could that be?” you joked, rolling onto your stomach and instinctively arching your ass into the air. Joel’s knees dipped the mattress as he crawled onto the bed behind you, his hands gripping the globes of your ass as he let out a groan.

“So pretty like this,” he hummed before surprising you with a broad lick up the seam of your cunt. “My country girl.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, just don’t stop.” Joel laughed at your plea but obliged, licking you again. He kept at it, his tongue greedily and filthily lapping up every inch of you it could find before tensing and burying into your cunt while his fingers rubbed circles over your clit.

“Mm,” he hummed as he pulled away for a moment to speak. “There’s a gift for you in the nightstand. Why don’t you have a look?”

You chuckled hesitantly and crawled over the mattress to reach into the nightstand on your side of the bed, finding a long black box inside. You pulled it out and turned over to sit, facing Joel as he sat on his ankles at the foot of the bed. “Open it.”

“Is this—“ You silenced yourself by opening the box, your eyes taking in the sight of one of those wands you’d been desperately dropping hints about wanting to try out. “Oh, baby. You’ve got competition now.”

“Oh, do I?” he smirked, crawling to lay over you, forcing your head to rest back against the pillows. “That’s alright. Gettin’ too old to do all that work anyways. Might as well take all the help I can get.”

“You know you’ll always have one thing no one else has,” you purred, reaching to stroke his cock as it rested on your belly. “They couldn’t replicate this if they tried.”

“Mm,” he smiled against you. “You’re just flatterin’ me now.”

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect. The way you fill me up, the way it feels inside. I’ll never get enough.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined against your jaw as he nibbled there. “Turn it on, wanna get you ready to take me. So damn hard for you, can’t even think.”

You flipped on the vibrator, gasping at the power behind it while Joel simply groaned.

“Go on,” he urged. “Press it to your clit, baby.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you lowered it to your bundle of nerves, the whir of the vibrations making your thighs tense and jerk, but Joel’s hips stopped them from closing.

“Does it feel good?” he asked against your pulse as he kissed the skin there.

“Yes,” you panted. “But I want you.”

“Not ‘til you cum,” he replied, trailing his fingers down your belly, past the vibrator, and into your soaked entrance. You let out an animalistic moan, something primal and so unlike yourself. “God, baby,” he moaned against you as he curled his fingers up towards that dizzying spot inside. “You don’t make those noises for me. Maybe I do got competition.”

“Joel,” you whined, unsure of what to say or how to describe how good it felt to have him inside you along with this gift of an invention. “Please. Please.”

“Cum on my fingers,” he ordered, low and dark and right into your ear. “Then I’ll give you what you want.”

As if your body had simply been awaiting the order, you came immediately, squeezing him as you writhed beneath his weight, the vibrator turned off and tossed across the bed. Joel slid into you while you were still clenching around nothing, your breath getting knocked out of your lungs at the force of his thrusts inside. You felt like you transcended into some sinful sort of heaven, one where only you and Joel resided.

“God, baby,” he whined, his arms slid beneath the arch of your back to hug you tight as he pounded into you. “So fuckin’ wet. God, I need to cum. Been too long.”

“Those fuckin’ kids,” you managed a joke, earning a laugh before he found his rhythm again.

“Baby, fuck,” he warned, his voice as wrecked as yours as you screamed his name into the empty home, your nails scratching down his back as you begged him to let you cum again, as if he ever denied you. “Go on,” he urged, sitting up on his knees to watch his cock disappear into you only to come out covered in your shine. “Fuck, come on. Cum for me. Right fuckin’ now, baby.”

“Oh!” you screamed, again unlike yourself, and clawed at his arms for purchase as your orgasm hit so hard it might have been painful if it hadn’t felt so fucking good. “Joel, please, please, please. Cum inside me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his face scrunched up as he watched himself let go into your pussy, his eyes glued to where you were connected while pulsed inside of you with a deep growl. When he pulled out, he quickly lowered himself to the mattress and nestled between your thighs, fucking his spend back into you with his finger while his tongue swiped round and round over your clit until you were begging him to stop. “Too much?”

“For now,” you grinned. “How much longer do we have until we have to get back on the road?”

“I’d say a couple hours,” he replied, sated but a hint of mischief in his voice. “We could always try out that new bath.”

“God, I love you.” You pulled him up and kissed deeply. “So glad you showed up to that parent teacher conference.”

“Thank you for givin’ Sarah and I a family again,” he whispered. “I love you so much, baby. I—gonna get me all choked up. I love you.”

“I love you.”

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller reader insert #elementary

[gale-force-storm]

New Perspective

Rating: E Pairing: Gale x female!Tav Additional tags: pwp, face-sitting, breathplay (not intentional, Gale just gets a bit carried away) Word Count: 1.3k

Read it on AO3

"I hoped you might indulge me in something.” “Of course, my love. What is it?” she asked, excitement clear in her eyes. “I was hoping to taste you.” Tav's brows furrowed and she opened her mouth, doubtless to say that this request was nothing new. “I was hoping,” he interjected before she got the chance, “to do so from a... different angle than usual.”

Literally just 1300 words of face-sitting

It was lovely, these slow, heated moments together. Laying side by side, kissing, hands trailing where they pleased, clothing long discarded. Gale grasped Tav's waist firmly and rolled, pulling her on top of him. She happily followed the movement, settling in above him and grinding appreciatively onto the hardness now pressed against her core. The movement didn't last long though, as Gale gripped her hips to hold her in place.

“Wait,” he breathed against her lips. “I...” He hesitated, eyes glancing quickly to and away from her.

“Yes?” she prompted after a moment.

“I was- that is to say, I hoped you might indulge me in something.”

Tav's eyes lit up. She'd been trying to get him to ask for more in bed for ages, claiming he was too generous (as if such a thing were possible). He wasn't entirely sure what he was afraid of, if he was being honest. He knew by now that she wouldn't be upset over a simple request. Especially not when she'd been directly asking him to make more of them. But old habits died hard, and old anxieties and insecurities lingered. Still, a thought had been forming in the back of his mind, spurred on by faded yet compelling memories of youthful dalliances. Compelling enough for him to brave asking for it.

“Of course, my love. What is it?” she asked, excitement clear in her eyes.

“I was hoping to taste you.” Tav's brows furrowed and she opened her mouth, doubtless to say that this request was nothing new. “I was hoping,” he interjected before she got the chance, “to do so from a... different angle than usual.” He pulled on her hips, trying to move her up his body. He saw her eyes widen as she took his meaning.

“Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you.”

“Absolutely positive,” he replied, this time without any hesitation. “I...” he paused again, glancing away. “I haven't had the opportunity in quite some time, but I have done it before and I remember finding it quite enjoyable. Though of course if you would rather not-” He was cut off by a kiss, warm and affectionate.

“If you're sure,” Tav murmured against his lips, “and you truly would enjoy it, then I would be happy to oblige.”

Gale's breath caught and his fingers dug more firmly into her hips. He looked up at her and could almost feel the hunger in his own expression. He licked his lips and pulled at her again, and this time she followed. In moments she held herself above his face, bracing against the headboard as his hands trailed from her hips down to grip and knead at her thighs. He leaned up and kissed the inside of one, then nipped at it, startling a pleased little sound from her.

“Perfect,” he murmured. He pulled down on her thighs and she slowly lowered herself until she was barely an inch from him, his breath fanning over her already wet folds and making her shiver. He would never get used to how eager she was for him. How easily he could coax her into arousal. It was a gift and a wonder every time.

He wasted no time, briefly nuzzling against her folds before licking a broad stripe from her entrance up to her clit. Tav gripped the headboard tighter, her legs shaking slightly.

Gale was in paradise. Tav's thighs, so strong yet soft, surrounded his head. Looking up he could only see her cunt, already glistening for him, and the long lines of her torso leading up to her breasts. Her warmth and scent surrounded him, his whole world reduced down to only her. He moaned as he licked her again, savoring the sweet, salty, musky taste of her. He moved his hands, one drifting down so he could spread her open with his thumb, the other sliding back to grip her delightful backside and urge her further onto him. He licked down from her clit, sliding his tongue into her once he reached her entrance, and she moaned, her hips twitching towards his mouth. Gale hummed his approval and thrust into her with his tongue, hoping she would do it again. He licked deep, letting his nose nudge against her clit, and was rewarded with a whine and another twitch. After a minute or two he changed tactics, the hand holding her open moving down so he could slide one, then two fingers into her while he eagerly lapped and sucked at her clit. This got the reaction he was looking for: her hips grinding down as she rode his tongue. Her moans were almost drowned out by his own, muffled though his were.

He pulled away just enough to pant “That's it, love. Just like that,” before diving back in, burying his face in her warm, slick center. He relished every sound she made. Every grind against his enthusiastic tongue. Every clench of her core when he did something she particularly liked. She was everywhere, overwhelming, and he never wanted to be anywhere else. He felt almost dazed as he licked at her, chasing her pleasure. Nothing else mattered. He didn't need petty things like air, he only needed more of her taste, her scent, the soft slickness of her against his face, and her beautiful moans showering down from above him. Moans that might have been breathtaking if he hadn't already been a bit short of breath as it was. He didn't mind a bit. His own gasping breaths and the slight lightheadedness only served to enhance his pleased near-delirium. Stars burst behind his eyelids, and he genuinely didn't know if they were from pleasure, lack of air, or both. He thought he may be able to get off on this alone, and was more than eager to test that theory.

As it stood, though, he could tell that Tav was reaching her limit. Her moans had morphed into whimpers, and the rolling grinds of her hips had turned into desperate, arhythmic thrusts. He slid his fingers into her as far as he was able and drew her clit between his lips, flicking the very tip of his tongue against it as he sucked. She arched above him, her thighs clamping around his head and shaking as she crested her peak, moaning his name in a way that nearly had him tumbling over that edge with her, still untouched. He coaxed her through it with gentler movements of his lips and tongue, savoring her pleasure. He couldn't help his whine as she rolled off of him, though given the slight burn in his lungs as he gulped in a breath, he had to admit it was probably for the best. Besides, he couldn't complain about the way she moved to lie next to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him fiercely, licking and kissing her own wetness from where it had essentially coated his face from nose to chin.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “You got a bit quiet there towards the end.”

“Much more than alright, my dove,” he panted, grinning. “That was...” he trailed off, trying to think of how to adequately describe what he was feeling.

“Everything you hoped for?” she proposed after a moment.

“And more,” he confirmed. “You are magnificent. Wondrous. Perfection itself.”

Tav shook her head slightly, but she knew better than to argue with him when he got this effusive.

“So, I take it you want to do this again sometime?”

“Gods yes. I-I mean, if you are amenable, of course,” he added, catching up to his own overeager tone. Tav simply smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

“I would be very amenable,” she replied. “Though for now...” she reached down and slid a couple fingers lightly up his shaft, making him shudder. “How would you like to finish? My mouth? My hand? My breasts? My cunt?”

Gale groaned, rolling his hips into her touch. “However you want me. You've indulged me once already this evening, it's your turn to choose.”

Normally Tav might have argued, but instead she simply hummed thoughtfully. “That's true. I suppose I can give you this one. And in that case,” she said, kissing her way down his body, “I'd like to take my turn tasting you.”

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x tav smut #that's right folks i'm finally fully back on my bullshit and the smut train has left the station #my writing #hotter than a fireball #never posted smut to a main tag before so this is a fun new adventure!

[sinfulsalutations]

hello!! for the kids prompt, can i please ask for ‘kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and soothe’ with hunter 🤭 i think he would love those 🫶🏻 — @crosshairlovebot

⋆ ★ ᴏᴋ ɴᴏᴡ ɪᴍ ʟᴏᴡᴋᴇʏ ꜱᴏᴏᴏᴏ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ 3 ʜᴀꜱ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪɴꜱᴘᴏ, ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ. ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! <3

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ꜱᴄᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴊᴀᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴏᴛʜᴇ

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴜ ɪᴛ, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ 2 ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ɴᴇᴄᴇꜱꜱᴀʀɪʟʏ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ/ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ 3 ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ.

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 1ᴋ

You hear the constant sound of clicking as you awake– fumbling as someone unsheaths a nice and grinds it into a wall, grimacing lowly. You stir gently, wincing at the feeling of blue light glaring onto your eyelids, and you grunt slightly when you push yourself up and rub your eyes. 

You can still hear the gentle humming of hyperspace. Surely you couldn’t be at your destination already?

“Kriff, these damn shortcuts…”

Hunter’s voice flows through the thin air like a delicate feather, and your eyes open fully as you realize what’s going on. You almost coo aloud. He sounds so distressed. So tired.

Instantly your gaze darts to Hunter’s hunched figure at the console, still avidly tapping away with one hand while the other carves incoherent markings into the machinery–it seems to be his only method of funneling out the nerves. His entire stature exudes pure tension, strung up wires about to snap and collapse at any moment without proper care. 

He’s been this determined and restless since Omega was taken, no doubt, but you’ve noticed how it’s gotten worse as time passes. Despite his attempts to remain strong to boost the morale between you and Wrecker, it’s not enough to disguise how he’s truly grasping for any sense of hope or rescue, lest his desperation rings useless and he’s unable to save at least one of his kin. First Crosshair, then Tech. He can’t lose Omega. Even if it means lessening his wellbeing.

It’s hard to watch. Seeing him stress every night trying to read through Tech’s logs, reacquainting himself with the ship and taking on all the responsibilities, decoding old navigation paths. Every conversation rings the same few notes, and there’s never any space for you to tell him that he isn’t alone. You and Wrecker are here and can help him. 

If only he could understand that he hasn’t lost everything.

“Hunter?” You call out, gentle and longing.

The clattering of keys stops as he lifts his hands and turns to your voice. His demeanor doesn’t change. He seems to grow more upset seeing you awake.

“What are you doing up?” He asks, unintentionally disheartening. You don’t want to burden him for being the reason you’re awake, so you shrug instead. Hunter sighs then turns back to the console. In the illumination of the holo light, you can see the heavy bags under his eyes and the scruff on his chin. 

“Go back to sleep,” Hunter demands, voice waning. 

You shake your head, muttering a ‘mm-mm’ with it.

“You need to sleep as well.”

Immediately as you finish your sentence, he grunts and presses an elbow to the console, rubbing his temple with a tense jaw.

“I can’t,” he rations. You frown, and as though he can see it in his peripheral vision he shakes his head with a tight suck of breath. “I need to figure this out.”

You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowed.

“Figure what out?”

“These kriffing controls–” He snaps, his straight tone turning sour. Despite his aggression, his volume never rises. “I need to figure them out. I thought I knew them, but with Tech around, I never had to–” He pauses, gulping slowly and sighing as his eyes flutter close. Your heart skips a note on the staff watching him stumble over his words. 

He finishes his sentence with a strained voice. 

“–I need to do this.”

Many things compel you at that moment to push yourself up and walk toward him. The sorrow in his eyes begs to be comforted and understood, his obligation to take on all these responsibilities to the point of burnout. You’d seldom find time to express any sort of affection these past cycles, and you see him grow more and more distressed. And something deep inside of you, albeit slightly delusional, hopes you could ease just a little bit of his pain. 

So you push yourself up and reach out for him with open arms.

Hunter swivels in his chair to face you, and you bring your hands to each of his cheeks, tenderly holding his face and angling his gaze to your eyes.

“I know,” you mutter, stare deeply compassionate. “But you can’t neglect everything else for it.”

Hunter shakes his head, hands reaching up to hold your wrists. You keep them in their place.

“Omega’s been waiting far too long,” He stands up to his full height, and you stumble slightly with the imbalance. His voice is too firm, his stature too stubborn. “We can’t waste any time–”

“A few hours of sleep isn’t wasting time,” You interrupt him to gain back your footing, and Hunter stammers, lips parted stagnated. “It’s taking care of yourself.”

He hums as if he’s almost agreeing, but that isn’t enough for you. Your thumbs reach up and trail over his eyebags, whining softly in disapproval.

“I can’t bear to see you like this,” you confide. 

Finally, do you see his resolve begin to crumble. Hunter sighs forlornly, shoulders slumping. But his hands remain wrapped around your wrists until you bring them down to interlock your fingers behind his neck. He follows suit in inching closer to you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, suddenly distraught. His hands descend, holding onto your waist like you’re his life source. 

“Don’t apologize to me,” You mutter, reaching up and pressing a kiss on his cheek, then another to the crook where his jaw and neck meet, trailing gentle pecks down to his chin. Hunter sighs blissfully as if coming up for air. Your countenance relaxes knowing you’re soothing him. “Just promise me you won’t lose yourself. That you’ll take care of yourself.” You slowly trail kisses on the other side of his jaw, muttering into his skin. “We’ll find her, I promise.”

A gentle hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, and you tell him quietly, as though a sworn secret, “I’m here for you, you know. Wrecker’s here for you. You’re not doing this alone.”

Hunter stammers again, a breath caught lodged in his throat. You don’t dare to look in his eyes, because you fear that you might break down just as quickly.

“I know it’s hard,” you continue, stroking the side of his face. You place another kiss to his jaw, slow and loving, before pulling away to continue. “I know you feel responsible. And I know I can’t take away all your pain with just one conversation–” You take a deep breath and finally turn to look into his eyes. “But let me help you. Let Wrecker help you. Let us in. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

Hunter doesn’t say a thing, only sighs and melts into you further. You tuck your head under his chin and wrap your arms around his waist, holding him firm to you as you mutter one last thing.

“Please… for everyone.”

A pause rushes through the two of you, and you feel as though you might collapse. All he wishes is for all of your safety. All he wants is to ensure Omega’s safety. He’s your leader, your sergeant, his brother’s sergeant. But they’re a squad for a reason. He has to let you in. How else will you be able to help him keep his head above water?

Long moments fester in the little space between your bodies until Hunter finally exhales, rumbling low into your body, and nods above you.

“OK.” 

You pull your face back to look into his eyes and finally see for yourself if your words have gotten across to him. With the gentle parting of his lips and a mild sense of ease seeping into his eyes, you can already see just a slimmer of a difference. It brings the gentlest grin to your lips. 

He leans down and presses your lips to his in the gentlest of touches, featherlight to seal the promise.

“I’ll try. For you, mesh’la.”

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#nour writes stuff #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the bad batch #star wars bad batch #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #star wars headcanons #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch headcanons #tbb headcanons #tbb fic #clone force 99 #sw tbb #bad batch #bad batch hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter and omega #bad batch omega #omega bad batch #omega tbb #omega the bad batch #tbb omega #the bad batch omega #hunter tbb #hunter x reader

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — NAGI SEISHIRO x FEM READER

There’s nothing as annoying as a genius, especially one that’s better than you. When you break your ankle, being forced to train the newest member of the team brings out the worst side of you - but also possibly the best?  

wc — 4.5k

tags — figure skating au, tutor au, hardworking star athlete reader x lazy genius Nagi, sports injury, self doubt, “I’m always the challenger, never the champion” quote is from Yuzuru Hanyu, title from FOB song

One more.

You’re so close to victory you can almost snap your jaws around it. The smell of it is familiar. It’s the tang of bloody split knees and the old penny copper of chewing through your lip.

Cold sweeps over your body, not from the icy air, but the proximity to greatness. This is the moment. You can feel the gold medal in your grasp already.

It’s the cleanest program you’ve ever skated by far. The cheers and gasps of the audience in response to each perfect rotation has your blood singing. You make a sharp turn on the very tip of your skate to prepare for the final jump, drawing your arms in close to your chest like a hug.

The music swells to a crescendo as you tip your head back, letting the blood rush to your brain. There’s a certain zone you hit when the moment is just right, a little like runner’s high. Like an elixir of liquid gold sparking through your veins, it’s addictive. It dances through you, making you feel light enough to attempt this last jump.

“Don’t go for it if you don’t feel ready,” you remember Coach Prince telling you.

You wouldn’t if you thought you couldn’t make it, but everything about this program has felt so right. This is the culmination of everything you’ve trained so hard for this entire year. Each breath crystallizes in your lungs, a beautiful ache in your rib cage as you feel yourself succumb to the lure of the ice.

You want it.

You’ve never desired anything this badly in your entire life, and you’re going to take it. You deserve it. There’s a violence to your thoughts, a sort of desperation. This is a moment you’ve dreamed of over and over, the seconds before you hit the peak, just like all of the skaters you’ve looked up to before.

You hear it before you feel it, a crunching noise. There was a hole on the ice just two centimeters in front of your foot. The jagged edge caught onto your skate when you lept, throwing off the angle of your entry point into the air. With that one mistake, your entire jump is wrong. Your momentum falters too fast, too much, and you’re falling, falling.

The sound of your body slamming into the ice is sickening. For a second, you’re dazed, left wondering what went wrong. There’s no more screams of joy or applause.

Your coach is on the ice, murmuring something into your ear that you can’t hear, but you try to push him away. If he’s here, that means something is seriously wrong. You try to pull yourself up, because even a failed jump doesn’t completely destroy your program. If you can at least finish-

You can’t get up.

Frozen, you look over your shoulder to where your legs are sprawled behind you. Your ankle is twisted in an ugly direction, your foot pointing the wrong way.

“Don’t look,” Coach Prince is saying, but it’s too late. You resist the urge to throw up.

It’s over.

Your dream of being the greatest has died, right here with your broken bones on the ice.

You were never a masochist before the accident. Something must’ve happened when you slammed into the ground to rewire your brain. Why else would you be here, putting yourself through the sweet torture of watching everyone else accomplish what you couldn’t?

“Man, there is something wrong with you.”

“Hi to you too, coach.”

“I hope you’re not here to skate.”

“I’m not that dumb,” you say. He doesn’t know that you’ve already decided to hang up your skates. This is the last tournament you’ll ever compete in.

“How’s the ankle? You should be resting at home, not here. Doesn’t it irritate you to watch people skate when you can’t?”

“Real sensitive of you,” you say sarcastically. Predictably, he ignores you.

“Listen, I got this kid-“

“No.”

“Come on! He’s new, he’s got to learn the ropes somehow. He’s a prospective! You were one, once.”

You wouldn’t be a good role model, anyway.

“Ask Barou.”

“They don’t like each other.”

“Ask Reo.”

His sudden silence reminds you what you already know. Reo’s too busy skating to introduce a newbie to the ice. Everyone is - the start of the season is always crammed full of training. You’re the only one who’s free, because you’re the only one who can’t train.

“Where is he?”

Coach Prince ignores the bitterness in your tone. He’s good at ignoring you - must be lots of practice.

Looking at Nagi Seishiro, you wonder why you even bothered. This boy is not going to be a skater. You’re surprised someone even got him to the rink - someone, because it clearly wasn’t him.

How is this boy even alive?

He stirs, dispelling your fears that perhaps a sloth had been mistaken for a human boy and deposited at the rink.

“Hello? Nagi?”

All you get is a groan in response. You’re starting to get annoyed.

“I’m here to show you the ropes.”

“Five minutes,” he whines.

You’re going to kill coach. Just who did he dump on you?

It’s with great effort that you get Nagi onto the ice, but at least he takes to it like a bird to water. Someone must’ve at least taught him the basics.

“Aren’t you going to get on the ice?”

“With this ankle?” You laugh. “This isn’t a class and I’m not your coach. I’m just here to walk you through some of the easy moves.”

Sometimes you help out with the beginner class. Coach likes to walk you or Reo out for demonstrations. Reo’s popular because he’s beautiful and well-known, so the students worship every move he makes.

As for you, your love for skating is infectious. It bleeds through in every lutz and axel, unbearably exposed. Every class with an appearance from you ends with students burning with the desire to extend their training into the next hour, and the next, and the next.

It makes it easy to get Nagi used to some easy jumps. To your surprise, no matter what variation you add, he nails all of them.

It’s just a little strange when he has no experience. Still, Nagi doesn’t seem like one of Prince’s pranks, if only because it looks like he’d have no energy to be involved in something like that. You decide to give him something a little harder.

“It’s okay if you can’t get it on the first try,” you tell him. “It took me a while and coach says I’m still one of the fastest students who ever got it.”

“Uh-huh,” Nagi says, and takes off across the ice.

He does a few laps to warm up. It’s a good call - most new skaters try to launch into a jump immediately, fearing they’ll lose their nerve if they don’t do it now. It’s a rookie mistake.

Nagi jumped like gravity was nothing more than a lightly amusing joke. He made it look effortless, even as you watched the muscles in his leg contract and release in an all too familiar way. You know that move. You’ve made it yours with hours of effort put into perfecting it.

Without trying, Nagi takes it for his own. The arc his skates carve through the ice and into the air steals your breath from your lungs. You’ve never seen anything like it. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to tear your eyes away from the beauty of it, frost following him through the air.

He lands, his face impassive even as you replay that moment over and over in your mind. Your blood sings with the reminder of how good skating can feel. Nagi’s leap mesmerized you. Even when you blink, he’s there, silhouetted against the black of your eyelids.

He hangs in the air, a snapshot at the height of the perfect jump that caught you unaware. Beauty that hunted and trapped you when you hadn’t even realized you were being stalked.

There’s a longing in your heart that can’t be quelled. When Nagi skates back over, you turn away. You don’t want him to see the look on your face. It’s too vulnerable.

Letting him see the miserable awe for his jump, the love that still remains despite how badly this sport has hurt you, would be like opening up your chest so he can make a display of your heart and lungs. You can’t.

“Was that good?”

“Fine.”

He shrugs. “I’m taking a break then.”

You shoot back around. “What? No! Get back on the ice.”

He stops, hovering in the doorway, halfway between the ice and the outer world.

“Huh? Why? I did it.”

“But you can do it better. You have real talent, but talent is nothing without skill. You have to train.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Throwing up your hands in disgust, you walk away. You won’t train someone who’s not willing.

Even if you see his skating in your dreams that night.

It really isn’t healthy for you to be at the rink every day when there’s nothing for you to do, but you still attend religiously after your physical therapy sessions. Reo, kind soul that he is, holds the door open for you.

“My friend is here, by the way,” he says conversationally as he walks you to your usual room. He offered to carry your bags. “He’s on your usual rink because - you know. I hope you don’t mind.”

It’s a broken ankle, not cancer. You wish everyone would stop skating around it. Even if it’s ruined your dreams, you can recognize that you’re the problem. It wouldn’t be so serious if you weren’t so diehard about skating.

But then again, doesn’t it say something that everyone else is just as dedicated? They can share your feelings, if not your methods of dealing with it. You’re more no nonsense than they are, but these are still the people that trained with you for years. That culture has leaked into you as it has into them.

A love.

A fever.

A sickness.

The walk to your side of the facility is just long enough that you have time to wonder who Reo let tag along. Maybe it’s the German genius, Michael Kaiser, though you hadn’t heard they were close. Or his model friend, Yukimiya, who sometimes skated recreationally.

It’s neither.

On your ice, you find the sloth, skating in slow figure eights.

You’re stunned. “What are you doing here?”

“I signed up,” Nagi said, casual as anything.

“You? The same person who gave up on skating immediately?”

“I see you met your new teammate!”

“Coach?” You splutter in shock, trying to understand the situation.

“Nagi’s decided to join us! I have an open spot, so he’s on Team Prince now.”

Nagi tilts his head. “So I’ll be skating with her?”

“Nope! You’re in singles, I’m just coaching both of you. When she gets better, your training times might overlap. You could learn a thing or two from her, you know!”

“I might not skate again,” you say, but you know he won’t take you seriously.

“She’s just kidding,” he laughs predictably. “Come on, let me show you this combo I taught her. Let’s see if you can beat her time.”

Neither of them get it. Your training center is full of men - you’re technically not even supposed to be there. Anri’s supposed to be your coach, but she took a pregnancy leave. She texted you the day the news broke. You still haven’t responded. You don’t know what to say.

For you, it’s not like it is for them.

You know the story. Male athletes can come back from something like this, but all women do is fall further and further down a slippery slope. Every woman who’s made it the top of the podium crashes soon enough. Two years is counted as a long run.

They push your bodies to the limit and marvel as they break down. The first fracture is only the beginning of a long and drawn out medical history.

The crowd begins to wane. They hear that you’re skating on glass. Another bad break hospitalized you for the second time. People are losing faith. Sponsors stop pouring money into you. Coach Prince has to stop training you because they won’t pay him. You go to someone else, someone worse.

They push you too hard. An almost-Olympic champion falling in their lap! They think this is their lucky break. They try to wring you dry, and in the process, your body collapses for the third time. A ligament or a tendon, it doesn’t matter. Something gives.

You keep trying, and trying, and trying, but all it does is make people pity you. Eventually, the pity turns to disgust. It’s never good to look desperate.

Your career fades out like a shooting star, the tail end a sad, messy streak that mars what could’ve been a sterling career.

You’d rather die than let that happen. It’s better to quit here, on your own terms. Better to let people remember you as the champion you were, rather than the has-been who didn’t know when to give up.

Even if it stings to know how close you could’ve gotten.

Recovery passes more quickly that you would’ve expected. It helps that you refuse to look at calendars. Counting the days would only make you strain against the chains of your cast. You don’t want to know until it’s here - it would be too painful.

“Hey, hey,” Coach says as soon as you walk through the doors. Nagi sets off a party popper. Confetti rains on you. They’re both wearing party hats. “It’s the returning champion!”

“What’s all this?” You set your gear on the ground, mindless to their little show. You’re still thinking about how you’re going to broach the topic of your retirement.

“I got the good news from the team doctor. Looks like you’re all ready to go, huh?”

This is a bad time, but will there ever really be a good one?

“Coach, I have something to tell you.”

“Come on,” he laughs, “no need to be dramatic. I don’t need the big speech - I know you’re going to work hard. We’ll get you back to number one in no time.”

“I’m quitting.”

“Huh?” Surprisingly, it’s Nagi that’s loudest, not Coach Prince.

“This is going to be my last championship.”

“Come on,” Coach Prince says, stunned. “You’re joking, right? After one injury?”

“I’m getting too old for this-“

“You’ve barely started!”

“I’ve hit my peak. You know how it is in this sport.”

He does know. The ice is fickle with her lovers. There’s always someone better and younger.

“But you’re good,” Nagi interrupts.

“You’ve never seen me,” you laugh. You’re a little pleased despite yourself that he cares.

“I’ve watched your videos. It’s why I came.”

That gives you pause.

“You make it look fun. You’re always smiling on the ice. I thought you liked it.”

“You hear that?” Coach says, his tone colored by desperation. “You can’t give up when you have a fan right here!”

“I’m not a fan,” Nagi argued. “I just thought, looking at her, that it might be fun too.”

“So basically you’re a fan.” At least coach ignores Nagi as much as he ignores you. He turns to you. “Isn’t that cute? He joined for you!”

“I didn’t say that,” Nagi says.

“You’re the reason he’s going to be in the competition next week. Give him something to look up to.”

Your blood runs cold. All of your warm feelings for Nagi disappear immediately. “What? He just got here.”

“This kind of talent is a once in a century thing,” coach continues, oblivious to your growing dismay. “We have to strike while the iron’s hot.”

You make your excuses and slip away. They taught you meditation in preparation for easing you off your pain meds. You didn’t think you’d be using it to calm yourself down enough to avoid a completely unreasonable tantrum.

It’s not Nagi’s fault he’s good.

It still sends you home from the rink until the next day.

It hurts.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re giving your skating the bare minimum. Training just enough to keep you in the race. It’s not like you’ll win, anyway. You lace up your skates in the changing room, trying to convince yourself of that fact.

It’ll sting less if you kill the hope now, but you can’t help it. You’re still dreaming of gold. You can’t rid yourself of the want, even when you know it’s impossible.

Your phone buzzes.

Nagi won. Congratulate him. - P.

You stare at the text. Not only are you reminded that your coach is actually old, enough so that he actually signs off on his texts, you get to have Nagi’s talent shoved in your face.

It makes you mean. You’re itching to pick a fight.

Skating usually helps you burn off the excess energy, but you have to take it easy on your ankle. The few laps you allow yourself do nothing before Nagi, the person you wanted to see least, opens the door to the rink.

You can’t help yourself.

“Coach Prince tells me you won the competition,” you call.

Nagi skates closer. “Yeah.”

“Must be nice,” you sneer at him. “When have you ever tried for something you wanted? You’ll never know what it’s like.”

You’re always the challenger, never the champion. Even though you love skating, you can’t remember a time when you felt comfortable on the ice. There’s only ever been the desire to jump higher, land better combinations.

You can’t remember a time when you felt secure as the best. It’s a vicious competition. You only win if you stay hungry.

Nagi seems willing to starve. It irks you - all this talent going to waste. If anyone was going to have so much natural aptitude, it should’ve been you or Reo or even Kunigami - someone who would’ve used it.

Nagi shrugs. “At least I don’t give up when it gets hard.”

You bristle. “I never give up.”

“I dunno,” Nagi says, eyes closed like arguing with you is too much work for him. You want to wrench his hair for the disrespect. He could at least look at you if he’s going to talk back - you’re sure you never treated your coaches like this. Never mind that you’re not actually his coach. “This seems a lot like giving up to me.”

“What do you know?” You scoff.

“Nothing. Wanna show me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like the first time. Show me the jump again.”

You know you’re rising to his provocation, but you can’t help yourself.

Even warming up doesn’t feel right anymore. The ice that once cradled you comes to you as an enemy. You were friends once, you remember. You knew the right place to touch so it would welcome you in, like a shared secret.

That knowledge is lost now, ruined with your mangled bone. It was fought for back then. You earned it with your blood, sweat, and tears.

It’ll have to be won back now.

You travel in slow rotations across the ice. Thankfully, Nagi adds no pressure. He just watches silently as you start to build speed and momentum, feeling out the right method. You can’t rely on muscle memory today. It’s too dangerous when you’ve just healed.

Even the slightest hint of wrongness in your ankle cracks your fragile psyche, but you keep moving. It’s been a long time since you had to pretend to be confident on the ice. You took the real thing for granted.

Finally, when you kick the speed just one notch higher, you feel it call. This is the tempo, and just two feet ahead is the perfect launch point.

The muscles in your legs tense as you pour all of your focus into the takeoff. You release like a spring, launching yourself off the ice with all the energy you’ve pushed against it. The air feels cold and crisp against your face, stinging your lungs as you gulp it down, but this is the pain you missed.

You land just a second too soon, but you avoid any real damage. The landing vibrates through your body, a fall too heavy to be professional. Once or twice doesn’t matter, but over and over will wear down your joints.

It’s a problem that you only had at the start of your career, but at least Nagi can’t tell. He’s looking at you with a spark in his usually disinterested eyes.

“Well?” You challenge.

“Looks like fun,” he says, and then he’s going for it.

You hate that Nagi’s jumps are a thing of beauty.

Every line of his body moves into the right place without his even having to think about it. You know it’s instinctual because there’s no way he learned all of the correct forms in days, but the tips of his fingers line up with his wrists and elbows to create the perfect arc.

Suspended in the air, he’s Michelangelo’s David, the peak of the human form.

It reminds you of the first time you saw him skate.

You’re breathless, watching, wanting. Hungry for that talent. The ease of it. The joy.

Nagi touches icy fingers to your cheek. You flinch away, but not before you catch the wetness on them. You feel impossibly brittle, like glass. If someone looked at you wrong, you’d shatter. Even your bones feel too fragile.

“Are you okay?”

“Get back to it,” you snap, then apologize. You roughly scrub your tears away and try to give him a shaky smile.

You don’t know why you’re being like this. It’s just a sport.

But it’s never been just a sport to you.

“Was it that bad?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “You know you’re incredible. I heard Prince tried to teach you one of my signature moves. Show me.”

“Yes, coach.”

You smile despite yourself. “Prince is your coach. I’m just-“

You shut your mouth rather than think about it harder. You’re not willing to commit yourself to helping him, not when you know you won’t stay. “Give it a try,” you say instead.

Even hours after the session, you can’t stop thinking about Nagi’s jump. It was yours once, that effortless grace. All of that beauty in the palm of your hand.

You’re trying to be mature about it, but there’s a feeling that you can’t suppress. It’s normal to be replaced. That’s what this sport is about - seconds of glory.

It’s supposed to be enough, your fleeting fame. You knew it when you came into your career. You’ve had years to come to terms with it, and still, it’s hard.

You didn’t think it would be so soon.

And it’s not just Nagi, who’s only in a competition with you in your head. Soon, the next wave of girls will be nailing quads at younger and younger ages, doing things you would never be able to do even if you were their age. That’s just the way it is.

Nagi’s the only one who doesn’t seem to understand that.

“Are you really going to quit after this season? You’re too good to stop now. You should stay.”

“It’s not happening, Nagi. I told you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” You expected him to fight.

“Okay,” he says, snatching your beanie off your head and running.

You’re left standing in a moment of shell-shocked silence before you give chase. What a fucking brat. You’re just catching up when Nagi pushes himself through that doorway and launches onto the ice, leaving a crystal spray on his wake.

You freeze with your hand on the swinging plastic half-door. He’s gone where you can’t follow. Your ankle aches. You weren’t prepared to get on the ice today. It had taken you every hour of your entire commute yesterday to convince yourself to approach it.

“Come on,” Nagi goads, still in that lazy way of his. It irritates you like nothing else to see him so nonchalant when he can rile you up so easily. “Come and get it if you want it.”

The ice still scares you. Your ankle hurts a little, and you’re not sure if it’s a phantom pain or the cold leaching into your bones. You’re getting too old for this, after all. Figure skaters had early expiry dates.

Still, something ignites under your breast bone as you watch the little red flag of your beanie float further and further away from you. Nagi isn’t even really trying, making soft loops around the ice.

Come and get it if you want it.

You want it. There’s a fire burning in your gut. Even the old memory of ambition sears at your insides, kindling scraps of gold medal dreams into a roaring flame. Desire runs a steady drip through you, bleeding through every artery.

The first step onto the ice happens with brute force. You grit your teeth as you physically make yourself do it, breaking each step of the movement down.

Shift your weight to your left foot.

Lift your right leg.

Put it down on the ice.

Dig your skate in.

Lift your left leg.

Put it down on the ice.

One by one, each movement pulled out of you. You breathe through it, shaking with nerves. One after another, trying to think about it without thinking about it too hard until Nagi breaks your concentration.

“Too slow,” he says, zipping past you - still aggressively showing off how easy it is for him. How it takes no effort, while you’re straining to remember how to make this feel right.

It breaks something loose in your brain. All cognitive functions shut down. You go after him, not thinking, just acting.

Your fingers snag on the red fabric just as you remember to brake. Your body doesn’t. It’s going at a speed that would’ve been child’s play for you before you broke your ankle, but now you can’t control your skates. You slam into Nagi, knocking both of you down.

Terror flashes across your face at the memory of falling until you land not on hard ice, but an only incrementally softer chest. Nagi lies beneath you, cushioning your fall. You lift yourself up on your hands and knees, panting above him.

“You can still skate,” Nagi says, looking up at you with those quiet eyes. “You kept up with me.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself yet,” you scoff, hauling yourself off him. “I’ve got years of experience on you.”

“Then why stop now?”

Because it’s inevitable he’ll catch up. It took him days to learn what took you years.

He takes your hand when you offer it. “If you quit, I will to.”

“And?”

He blinks. “Shouldn’t I not quit? Coach said I was good.”

You stare at him in disbelief. It’s only more annoying that he’s being genuine about this.

“I don’t care whether you skate or not,” you say. “This is an individual sport.”

“But coach signed us up for doubles.”

“Excuse me?”

“He said it’s perfect. I’m new and you’re recovering.”

You’re going to be famous again. But this time, it’s going to be for a double homicide.

#sera writes #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader

[bunnystalker]

some bf leon headcanons!!

i imagine reader to be early 20's and leon to be canon age in re4, so 27. hardly an age gap. im projecting a little in this one guys sorry...

cw; aging, mentions of aging, body image issues, scars, low-key depressed leon, nightmares and ptsd, alcoholism if you squint, these were not written to be happy lolll sorry guys! hope y'all like as always!

petnames (reader received); honey

boyfriend leon, whose nightmares wake him up nightly. if they're bad enough, they render him unable to speak. he stays awake to drink enough to get him tired again, and falls asleep. during the nights you stay over, he cuddles up to you and tries his best to take deep, slow breaths like you once instructed him to. within moments, he's okay. then he can talk to you about it.

boyfriend leon, who pretends like his insecurities are non-existent when he's with you but when he looks in the mirror, all he sees is a shell of his former self. a weapon. alone with his thoughts, he traces over every scar he's ever gotten- from the bullet wound from annette birkin's gun on his left shoulder to the thick scar from krauser's blade on his cheek. in his mind, they're ugly. horrible reminders of the past that stick around and haunt him. on top of that, it's not like he doesn't have normal insecurities too.

boyfriend leon, who hates the way he's gotten worry lines on his forehead and if you squint hard enough, crinkles from his furrowed brows. hates the way his hair is turning brown with his age, how his eyes seem so dull. his rage, as deep as it's buried, burns hotter than the sun. he's gained muscle and thus weight, which means he's acquired stretch marks. the first time he notices the stretch marks on his hips, his heart drops. he doesn't let you see him without clothes on for days.

boyfriend leon, who as he gets higher in age, starts covering himself up more. once he hits his thirties, he already feels the effects of old age and he swears he can see it in his physique despite his rigorous training. he starts sleeping with pajamas on instead of just his boxers. you find it funny how he thinks you haven't noticed.

boyfriend leon, who would rather spend the whole day with his face buried in your chest than go out because his days off are few and far between, and you're the only one who makes him feel comforted.

boyfriend leon, who needs you more than you need him. sure, he becomes less dependent as the two of you grow older together, but it's still there. there's not a line he wouldn't cross for you. he could get lost in you for eternity and never get bored.

boyfriend leon, who always reassures you when you need it and even when you don't. he loves making you feel loved and safe, the way you make him. he adores holding your hands, your hips, and waist. your love handles are his favorite things on your body- his hands fit so nicely on them, how could he not be obsessed?

boyfriend leon, who's always tired. the moment you let him lie down on you, he's half-asleep and clingy. his face buried in the nape of your neck, his hands grasping the side seams of your shirt so he can ground himself. he takes a deep inhale, a soft groan escaping him upon exhale. "y'smell good, honey," he murmurs, his voice tired and low. you chuckle softly and rub his upper back.

boyfriend leon, who melts when you stroke his hair. your touch incites a feeling he hasn't had since he was a teenager. a strong electric pulse in his heart followed by a soothing warmth. your hands on his arms, his abdomen, his legs- anywhere. you can get what you want from him just by rubbing his arm and batting your eyelashes, be it monetary or otherwise. it's fair, though, because he does the same to you, only he begs and kisses your face.

#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #bunny's blurbs✧˖ ° #bunny's headcanons ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil i love youu #resident evil headcanons #resident evil

[burntheedges]

Passing Notes: Cake

Joel Miller x gn!reader | 1.2k words | Passing Notes masterlist

summary: It’s May and you’re on the hunt for a cookie cake for your niece.

a/n: @trulybetty happy @swiftiscruff gift exchange! Listen — I have no idea where this came from, I was aiming for a meet-cute. Then I thought about how I had to get a cookie cake for a friend’s kid’s dance recital and I couldn’t find one anywhere – where did they go? are we out on cookie cakes, now? – and then this happened. (I did find one in the end but we didn’t even eat it.)

tags/warnings: flirting, cursing, pet names (beautiful, darlin’, handsome), food mention, reader walks and pushes a shopping cart but is otherwise not described

...

You turned the corner towards the bakery section, saying a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that you’d find the thing you needed without having to visit another grocery store. You needed a cookie cake for your niece’s elementary school graduation party – your sister had forgotten to order one, since there was already going to be an actual cake. But your niece and all of the other 11 year olds loved cookie cake, and so here you were, three hours before the party, on the hunt. 

You tried to take a deep breath as you pushed your cart past the bakery displays. If you didn’t find it here, you’d probably have to get something else. Could you make a cookie cake in three hours? How hard could it be? You hoped you wouldn’t have to find out. 

As you approached the last display before you reached the dairy case, you saw them – a display with only five cookie cakes left. You locked your eyes on them, quickly checking the selection for the one you needed. Your heart rate picked up when you saw it – there, at the far end of the row, one cookie cake with sprinkles and icing balloons decorating half of it. It was perfect. You started to smile as you reached for it – finally, you thought – but your hand never made it. You made contact with something else instead.

You found your fingers suddenly tangled with larger, tanned fingers that accidentally slotted between your own as you both reached for the same cookie cake. You startled and whipped your head to the right, accidentally curling your fingers around the stranger’s and, in your surprise, locking your hands together.

The man was looking at you, too. He had broad shoulders, dark curly hair, a scruffy beard, and soft brown eyes. You blinked. Shit, he’s hot. You felt his arm pressed up against your own and realized he was strong, too.

He cleared his throat and tugged on his fingers where they were tangled with your own. “Ah, sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to bump you.”

Darlin’. You blinked again.

“Oh! Er, sorry.” You realized you were still holding his fingers and released them suddenly. “I didn’t even see you, I was just trying to grab that cookie cake.” You reached forward again and stopped. 

You both had a hand on the plastic box of the cookie cake. You’d reached forward at the exact same time. You looked at your hands, holding onto opposite sides of the circular box, and then looked back at the (extremely handsome) man.

“Um,” you started, not sure what to say. “Sorry, I’m just getting a cookie cake for my niece.” You tugged the box a little bit towards you, hoping he’d give in.

He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, darlin’, but I’m gettin’ one for my daughter.” He tugged lightly on the box, too.

“It’s for her graduation party,” you argued, tugging again.

“My daughter’s graduatin’ too,” he returned, tugging back.

“She’s obsessed with cookie cakes,” you tried.

“She said it’s not a real party if she doesn’t have one of these,” he replied, eyebrows raised.

“This one is perfect, though,” you complained.

“This is the third store I’ve been to today,” he said.

You stared at each other, unmoving. Against your will, you felt the corner of your mouth start to lift into a smile. This is ridiculous, you thought, a bit hysterical. The perfect cookie cake was within your grasp, and apparently you now had to face off with the most attractive man you’d ever seen in order to keep it.

As your smile grew you watched him start to smile back at you, eyes crinkling. 

“Well, darlin’, it seems that we are at an impasse.” He was outright grinning now, and you tried not to be dazzled by the effect of it.

“It seems we are, stranger.” You bit your lip and his eyes dropped to your mouth. “Any chance your daughter would be happy with one of these other cookie cakes? My niece gave me strict instructions to get one with balloons on it, because balloons are for parties.”

He laughed and nodded. “Same problem. Sarah requests one of these for every birthday and holiday, and she has strong opinions about the right kind of cookie cake, with just the right amount of icing.”

You snorted, charmed. “Well, shit. What are we going to do?”

Joel eyed you, still smiling. You realized your arms were still touching all the way from shoulder to wrist as you stood next to each other, hands on the cookie cake box. It probably looked absurd to any shoppers passing by but you didn’t want to move away. You leaned against him a little bit and his smile grew wider.

“Well, let me introduce myself, first. Joel Miller, darlin’. I am very pleased to meet you.” He nudged your shoulder with his own and winked. “Even if we are in a bit of a tussle, here.” 

You laughed and introduced yourself. “Pleased to meet you too, Joel. Even under the circumstances.”

He tilted his head and seemed to make some sort of decision. “I have a proposal for you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’d love to hear it.” 

Joel turned his body towards you as much as he could without moving his arm or releasing his grip on the box. “I’ll let you have this cookie cake if you’ll give me your number.”

Your eyebrows raised. You were surprised he’d give up that easily, even if you were interested. “Oh yeah? But what about Sarah?”

He shook his head, smiling. “I can get one of the other ones and bust out my cake decoratin’ skills. I did it last time, was just hopin’ not to get made fun of by my daughter for my wonky balloons again. But I’m happy to take the teasin’ if it means I might get to see you again, beautiful.”

You smiled at the line. “Well, Joel Miller, I do not have any cake decorating skills to speak of, and so I am desperate to buy this cookie cake. I’ll take your deal, as long as it doesn’t mean I’m depriving your daughter of the perfect icing-to-cookie ratio.”

He laughed and released his grip on the box. You slid it towards you on the shelf. “If you ask me, she likes way too much icing,” he said. “Not a lot of cookie under there.” Joel seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then said, “you know, you don’t have to give me your number, if you’re not interested – don’t give it to me just because you need this cookie cake.”

You tucked the box safely in your cart, and then turned back to Joel and grinned. “Let me say that again. I’ll take your deal, as long as it doesn’t mean I’m depriving your daughter of the perfect amount of icing, and because I think I’d like to see you again too, handsome.”

He grinned back at you and leaned against the display table, arms crossed. “Well, darlin’, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

You nodded, agreeing. You had a good feeling about this one.

...

a/n: this is sort of what I was picturing for the cookie cake, only the ones they sell without the message so you can pipe it in yourself. And more balloons. 🤷🏻‍♀️ please consider this a thank you for sequins which I love with my whole heart

#PPCUGiftExchange2024 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #x reader #bte friendship exchange

[watatsumiis]

"Darling, you're the most gentle person I know." Foul Legacy x GN!Reader

Inspired by a prompt from @sh1-n0bu !!

Heads up for a passing mention of injury (a scratch on the cheek). Foul Legacy struggles with words in his abyssal form.

Childe, despite all of his elegance and prowess in battle, is far from what one would call 'coordinated' in his day to day life. 

This seems to shine through even more when he's in his 'Foul Legacy' form. Though he doesn't mean any harm (to you, at least), you often end up with little nicks and cuts from his razor-sharp claws, as well as bumps and bruises from him accidentally knocking you over or holding you too tightly. 

You accepted after the first few times that this was simply how it was going to be when Childe managed to trap himself in this abyssal form. You'd resigned yourself to the occasional injury, especially knowing how much anguish being like this caused him. 

Even now, as he's staring forlornly at the long, shallow cut along your cheek, still burning and tingling in its freshness, you don't really have much to say about it all. It was an accident, you understand. You've already got the first aid kit to clean yourself up. 

Foul Legacy plonks onto the floor by your feet, a long puff of air escaping him in a sigh that sounds almost comically like a tired old dog, followed by an odd, guttural crackling sound from somewhere in the back of his throat. 

You recognise it as a noise of distress, and react accordingly, even as you're still dabbing your cheek clean with a cloth.

"Hey. Stop that." You chide gently. 

Childe tucks his chin in, broad shoulders hunching in a defensive manner as he pointedly looks away. You hear the gentle tapping of his claws against one another as he holds them close to his chest, curled so they're out of the way. "I hurt you." You barely manage to catch the tinny whisper.

"It was an accident." You reassure him warmly. "I'm not mad." You hurriedly dab your cheek clean and apply a band-aid, wrangling out a crooked smile to demonstrate that everything is okay. "See? All better." 

"I…I always…" He lets out a little 'hff-hff' and shakes his head. 

“Hush.” You tell him sternly, reaching out to give him a pat on the head, right between the arcing horns that jut out from the mane of fuzz there. 

“I…I can never…” he chokes on the words, shying away from your touch as if he’s the one who has been hurt. “I can’t not.” he tucks his chin in and worries at the scarf around his neck with his claws.

You sigh gently, pityingly, as you bend your knees and crouch down beside him. It’s almost comical, when a creature this large is so curled in on himself. “Hey.” You tilt your head to the side and wait until he meets your gaze. “It’s not your fault, okay?”

“All I do is hurt people.” He mumbles, about to look down at the ground once more. 

“No.” Before he can turn his gaze off of you, you reach out and grasp his chin between your fingertips. The almost metallic texture of his face-slash-mask is cool and smooth against your fingers. He lets out a little chrrr. “You’re wrong.” You tell him gently, hoping the conviction on your face will communicate just how serious you’re being.

Though he may be clumsy, especially in this abyssal form, Childe is always kind, soft and caring to those he loves. You’ve been around him more than long enough to have witnessed firsthand how careful he is when handling things that are delicate or alive. It’s inevitable that he may accidentally scratch something up every now and then.

It’s hard for Childe to express emotions through his face when he’s like this, but you’re familiar enough with his abyssal form’s body language to know that he’s slowly calming down, latching onto your words. He lifts his big hands a little and you take them carefully in yours.

“Darling, you’re the most gentle person I know.” You tell him, and it’s nothing but the truth.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin self insert #my writing #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #platonic genshin x reader #foul legacy #foul legacy x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #platonic foul legacy x reader #foul legacy fluff

[bonny-kookoo]

How would Jungkook and Snowball's firt public appearance or weverse live go after their relationship was confirmed to the public?

He's nervous to say the least.

And it's definitely awkward in the beginning because he knows he should talk about it. "Hm, I think you've already read the announcement, right?" He asks the fans in the comments, who all seem to have very different reactions.

There's the flood of purple hearts probably meant to drown out potentially upsetting comments- but he still catches them, here and there. "Please don't be upset with Snowball. She- it really did just happen out of nowhere to be honest." He sighs, rubbing his inked arm a bit nervously. "It's hard to explain. When you fall in love, at least for me, it happens over time. I don't notice it until it's happened." He shrugs, looking away as he attempts to find good words. "And I felt like it might be unfair to you guys if I was to hide it or even lie. I couldn't do that." He shakes his head, earning another wave of emojis.

He can see the angry comments though. The disappointment here and there, the hate towards you, even threats are falling through the cracks here and there.

It scares him. What if someone's crazy enough to truly attempt something like that?

"I hope you can still find it in you to.. maybe continue supporting me. Nothing will really change just because- well, just because I've got Snowball at my side now." He nods to himself. "She's, private? I think that's a good way to put it. She's my privacy, and you guys can respect that, right?" He asks, hopes that it might turn some people around.

The media still attempts to tear you apart over the next few days though. He? He can take the heat. He knows he's not being a creep or using you for anything- he doesn't mind getting hate. But it's different when they write about you.

So much stuff is getting made up. Scandals that never happened. Old footage suddenly searched for any glimpse of a mistake or flaw. You're being picked at as if a corpse surrounded by hungry hyenas.

And he hates it.

But he doesn't back away from it either, knows that it would only make things worse if he shows any form of weakness now. So he still decides to fly out to the UK with you in tow, holding your hand almost as if to provoke- and he honestly didn't mean to, technically.

Still- some delusioned 'fans' break through the barriers, grab after your tail, making you yelp out in pain as security has to harshly pull it from the stranger's grasp, before you're both pretty much pushed towards the gate to the plane, where you both sit down inside, getting ready to fly out.

Jungkook feels awful-

Especially when you smile at him of all things.

"Can I sleep during the flight?" You ask him easily, struggling a little to buckle your seatbelt on the plane with your shaky hands, the only proof of panic right now in your body language.

And he silently reaches out to help you instead, before he holds your cheek, smiling encouragingly as well.

"Of course." He tells you. "It's a long flight after all." He tries to stay casual, and you nod, eyes tearing up as you nod, emotions seemingly catching up slowly.

"..and can we cuddle when we're at the hotel?" You ask, voice cracking and hurting him in the process as he pets your ear encouragingly. He needs to stay strong for you now, no matter how scared he is himself.

You can't have that.

"All night long." He promises towards you, before he watches how you lean into him once the plane is in the air, your head against his shoulder.

He's not sure how he's gonna get through this moving forwards-

But he will.

For you.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine

[webbyghost]

are you still doing the touches writing thingy? if so can i request hand holding 33 with chainshipping?

33. bandaging the other's hand and not quite letting go

"You didn't actually have to punch that guy, you know."

Lawrence meets Adam's searching gaze with his own steadfast look, unwavering under the younger man's scrutiny. He only breaks when Adam dabs the cotton ball onto his split knuckles and the alcohol stings, the pain sharper than he'd expected. He hisses, and Adam grins sheepishly, pulling both his hands away.

"Sorry, Doc."

"No, no, it's alright. It needs to be disinfected, who knows what bacteria could have been in that man's mouth." He shudders, only half-joking. Adam laughs and dabs at Lawrence's bloody knuckles again, taking care not to press too hard this time. The sting is duller now, the worst seemingly over.

Or maybe it's that Lawrence's attention is more focused on the way Adam's tongue is poking out while he concentrates on cleaning up the dried blood that decorates Lawrence's hand.

"I mean, I know I'm awesome, but maybe you shouldn't be trying to emulate me, y'know I'm supposed to be the violent one, remember?" Always the chatterbox, always the jokester. Always the smartass, mouthing off and wearing that same smirk he's got on right now.

"I know I didn't have to," Lawrence murmurs, wrenching his eyes from Adam's mouth, feeling a peculiar stirring in his gut. "But he was so much bigger than you, and I-"

He falters. How to explain the rage that had boiled up so quickly upon seeing the stranger looming over Adam, how he had moved across the parking deck so quickly his leg was still sore from the effort. How his hand had moved before he'd realized it, balled into a fist and crashing into the stranger's face, the man's teeth cutting into his skin.

"I couldn't stand there and let you get hurt." Adam stops cold in the middle of opening a bandaid, for once seemingly at a loss for words. "Not if I could stop it."

"C'mon, Doc, I'm not- you don't owe me, man." He doesn't look up, continuing to put the little bandage on the open scrape of Lawrence's middle knuckle. "I mean, yeah, you shot me and I like to give you shit about it from time to time but like... You don't gotta make it up to me. You already did that when you got me out of the- that place."

Lawrence doesn't answer, the words he wants to say are... out of his grasp. All he can think about is how Adam's hands- both hands- are holding his own, cradling it gently while he inspects it for any further damage.

"I just think that... you've been hurt enough," he says, quietly, half-hoping Adam doesn't hear him. It's almost too honest, too close to admitting how much he's grown to care for the young man.

"And you haven't?" Adam demands, his grip tightening slightly. "Lawrence, if you hadn't broken his teeth, that dude would have beaten your ass!"

It's the first time since his rescue that Adam has used his actual name.

"I've been in fights before, Adam," he scoffs. "It may surprise you to know that I've even won a few in my time."

"Sure, old man, whatever you say," Adam rolls his eyes, then sighs, looking back down at Lawrence's hand, still clutched between his own. "Look. It's not that I don't appreciate that you've got my back, ok? But you can't go around stepping in every time I piss somebody off."

"You could try being less disrespectful to everyone who crosses your path," Lawrence says, dryly, and Adam looks back up at him, that smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

"I think we both know how likely that is," he quips, and the smirk fades a little as he continues. "But I'm serious, don't go putting yourself in danger, not for me. I'm not the only one who- who needs you."

His fingers twitch and he grips Lawrence's hand a little bit tighter, though he avoids touching the doctor's bruised knuckles.

"I know," he replies, quietly, something clicking in his brain at Adam's words.

He knows now, why his hand flew on its own. He wants to say it, tell him that he put himself in harm's way because he needs Adam, too.

He wants to say it.

But he doesn't.

#chainshipping #saw franchise #anon ask #webbywrites

[sp00kymulderr]

Pairing: Ezra x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, slightly sub!Ezra, slightly soft dom!reader, begging, kissing, one swear, implications of sex but no actual sex, reader has a nickname (stardust) but no gendered language

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Ezra promises to give you everything. He begs for it.

A/N: This is technically a rework of an old deleted one. Comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to gif maker and banner maker.

“Please”

It’s a quiet gasp so unlike Ezra’s usual cadence. His voice low and his eyes darkened with desire as he kneels before you in sweet supplication.

Your starlit man is a vision; already begging for you, working himself to desperation. Worked up all because of you and your lips. Your touch. Your devious delight in toying with him.

To see him like this - so completely at your mercy - invokes some unseen power deep within you and sparks your lust until your whole body is humming with the electricity of it.

“Ask me again” you smirk as you look down upon him, letting that feeling fill you.

Ezra regards you in sudden consternation, but answers you quickly.

“Please, stardust” he starts with that beautiful voice, “Let me touch you. Let me worship at your altar. I can be your servant, and I’ll make Kevva herself jealous of you”

He looks up at you, brown eyes wide, and reaches out for you. He is a man dying of thirst. You are his saviour, but a look from you and he stops halfway. He licks his lips, his cheeks are flushed. He is gorgeous. And oh he’s good at this. How swiftly he becomes desperately pliant to you.

If you didn’t know each other inside out perhaps you would’ve laughed at his dramatic disposition. But you know he means every single word.

And Kevva knows that if you give him the chance, he’s going show you just how much he means them.

***

It had started with nothing more than an innocent kiss. As many things with Ezra started. A tender moment of quiet between the two of you as you had the sudden and simple urge to pull him to you and press your lips to his.

That’s all it was, a kiss.

But of course with Ezra a kiss is never simply a kiss. It becomes more, it means more. It means every word and need flowing through his mind. It means every small thought he has ever had of you. It can be sweet, it can be loving. Or it can drag you down in to a pit of intoxicating passion.

He had certainly dragged you down. He had grasped at you, feeling your touch so warm almost where he wanted you. Needed you.

“Don’t stop. Never” He had muttered with hot breath against your skin.

And you had had no intention of stopping...until he moaned out the most desirous, needy “Please” against your mouth. Please like he had only one hope in the world and it was you.

The word reverberated through you and set this new part of you alight. Something unexpected, sudden and strong.

You pulled away.

That please! The word was aching and hungry and as if you were an addict to it you wanted nothing more than to hear it over and over, to drag it from him a thousand times.

You had watched Ezra’s face fall in sudden confusion as you untangled yourself from his embrace. The man was left sitting on the bed slack jawed and dizzy from the swiftness of your change in temperament.

You let out a breath. He breathed it in.

“Again. Say it again” you demanded, keeping your voice steady as possible.

Your body had tingled as his eyes widened the moment he understood your intentions.

And then...such a good man to play his part so dutifully he slowly fell to his knees on the hard floor, while red hot excitement burned in you.

“Again”

***

“It’s not enough. Again” you tell him now, teasing and toying with him. You smile as he grinds his jaw in frustration, while you stand before him with fingers softly playing in his hair.

“Oh, you’re cruel” he practically whines, raising his eyebrows in surprise. But he’s never been one to turn away from a challenge. Definitely not one like this, one the glint in his eye tells you he enjoys so much.

“Stardust, let me kiss your perfect lips again...Let me feel you. I swear to make every single second worth your while. I will make you feel things you’ve never felt before” he rasps out impassioned. He’s straining, a sheen of perspiration covering him from how frantic he’s getting. You feel your fervor building with a growing warmth inside you as he continues, and you can tell from his obvious arousal he’s enjoying this as much.

You pull on his hair gently. Just enough to elicit a gasp from him. As you gaze upon him you spend a wicked moment contemplating some torture – the though of making him watch you touch yourself. The idea of his hands tied as you bring yourself off in front of him not allowing him to touch you at all. The ultimate torture for Ezra; a man who would rather forgo pleasuring himself for several cycles than spend one day not being allowed to touch you. It’s a tempting thought and you ponder on it for a moment more with a devious smile.

As if he can read your mind Ezra let’s out a helpless whimper before starting again.

“Every day...fuck…every day I ache for you. I live and breath for the softest graze of your skin on mine. I crave you...I’d be a damned, starved man without you. Let me show you” he leans forward, just a bit, “I’ll make time stand still, if you let me have even one single touch”

His pleading, his yearning, it’s enough to set the world on fire. The way he delivers it makes you quiver with desire. You can feel your resolve breaking down by the second.

“Please. Please” you hear Ezra keen out again and it ruins you. You are both so weak for him and so full of control over him at once. It is an unparalleled feeling. You lift his head, pulling on his hair with more force until he is looking at you. He looks with complete awe, his lips parted, his breath heavy.

As intoxicating as it is to make him beg and worship ultimately you will always want to share your rapture with him.

Slowly you kneel down to meet him on the floor. You lean forward, touching your forehead to his. You both close your eyes and breath each other in like it’s the first time you’ve ever been this close before.

And time stands still

You can’t spend a second longer not letting him show you his love, the way he wants to.

“Kiss me, Ezra” you beg this time with a whisper. Your lips almost touching his.

“Make me feel everything” you demand.

And he does.

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories #gideon writes #eh i tried to make it better than it used to be but I'm not completely sold on it

[jesssssssssica]

slipping through my fingers j.b

(a/n: it's not taylor sorry guys!!!!! hopefully it's still good anyway!!!)

today was an emotional day, nellie was turning three. as soon as i woke up, i could feel the tense atmosphere. i reached to judes side of the bed and patted it, to find nothing but a warm mattress, signalling that he had not long gotten up.

i knew jude would be feeling scared for today, his little girl now being an official threenager. he always got emotional about nellie and her life achievements and maybe that's due to missing the birth and having to see her for the first time via facetime, either way big milestones always made him sad.

i walk past all the rooms upstairs, peeking my head in just in case he's in it but i'm sure he's in our three year olds bedroom. and i'm right, he's hovering over her as she sleeps, his fingers brushing her cheeks, whispering words that from where i'm stood i can't make out.

i walk up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, putting my face on his back.

"jude," my voice says softly "what are you doing out of bed so early?"

he turns his head slightly to look at me but it's short lived as he quickly turns back to nellie.

"she's three"

that's all he says yet i understand what he means by that. he means that times gone by so quickly. he means that he feels that soon he'll lose her and while she's still only young, he now only comes to grasps how quickly time goes.

even i can admit how fast time flies.

i go to leave the room but his words stop me from leaving.

"she's slipping through my fingers and i'm struggling to keep up to date with everything she's doing or i try to at least because when i think i know what her little mind is up to, she's already changed and grown"

by the time he's done with his words, i'm close to tears, now actually getting a glimpse into what's going on in judes mind.

i turn him around and look into his eyes. they look painful and i give him a kiss, hoping that would brighten his spirits just he littlest amount.

we then lull her out of her sleep and take her downstairs so she can enjoy her birthday breakfast. she's laughing and giggling the whole morning as we present her gift after gift, as this happens jude quickly comes out of his melancholy mood, smiling with his little girl.

my perfect family.

this makes me question what happened to the late nights where we constantly woke up to nellie and her cries? it was hard work but it was all worth it in the end, even making me and jude stronger as the days progressed. i also wonder where the time went, and how we didn't manage to do everything we planned to do whilst she was still young.

only now do i understand jude truly.

how many pictures am i going to have to take for me to remember it all and to capture every minute? it's not like we can read her mind because every time we think we've got it she's already different.

she's just slipping through our fingers and i just wish i could freeze the moment and have her be small and in my arms forever. but i can't.

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #abba #slipping through my fingers

[witheringwidgetwrites]

Ok sorry for the confusing ask, I think I got it this time, (it’s different just in case)

obey me with short trans masc reader?

The brothers with some fluffy comfort and anxiety about telling them

Okay! So these are kinda hard to do like, "reactions" for, so I went w some general HCs! Hope that's cool! These are mostly Pre-transition as well! Levi genderfluid Hc ftw too.

These are fairly short, if you would like a more in-depth scenario, let me know, I would love to write one!

When you tell Lucifer, he doesn't give much of a reaction. You assume he doesn't care, maybe worse, he's judging you a little. He approaches you later to make sure it's okay he mentions it to his brothers. You're a little shocked but you give the okay, you see in his private text chat a message he had sent. 'MC is a boy. You will prefer to them as such from now on.' As your relationship grows closer, you small efforts from him. Your dead name is crossed out on old paperwork, and anything new always has your real name on it. When you grow even closer, you confess how nervous you were to tell him, he chuckles at you, smiling before grasping your hand, "my love, I adore you no matter what."

When you tell Mammon, he has a couple questions. He's a little confused, and kind of invasive, but he's got the spirit! "So I call you a boy right. Like, he should give me some of his money." You chuckle and nod. He messes up a few times at first but it's swift and you don't have to correct him, he does it himself. He doesn't make a huge deal out of it, but he makes a face when he catches himself. When you get together, he will loudly introduce you as his boyfriend. You're his pride and joy. Months later, you casually mention how nervous you were to tell him, and he makes a faux offended look, "I'm yer best man! How could ya be nervous to tell me anything? I like ya no matter what."

Telling Leviathan is a little nerve wracking. You're sitting down, playing games for a hours until you've worked up the nerves to say anything. "Can I tell you something Levi?" "Sure! What's up?" He instantly thinks you hate him. You tell him what's up, and a blush fills his cheeks. "Can I tell you something too?" You nod, smiling at him. "I think I'm genderfluid." With that, you both grow closer quickly. He's very accepting, you don't have to tell him much because he's already done all his own research, and had a few trans friends. Later in your relationship, you casually mention how nervous you were to come out to him, he hesitantly grabs your hand with both of his, and kisses it softly, "I like you for you, MC. Don't forget that, okay?" He averts his gaze, blush rushing to his cheeks.

Telling Satan is a little more anxiety inducing than you would have thought. But you had grown quite close, and it almost felt like lying to not tell him sooner. He puts his book down for you as you explain. He nods, asks, if that's all, and smiles at you. "Nothing could change how I feel about you MC." He's quick to change with no issues. You mention months later how nervous you had been, and he frowns a little, "I'm disappointed I made you so nervous, but I'm glad to have you now, as you are."

When you tell Asmodeus, he isn't suprised. "I had a feeling." He'd smile and say. He hugs you, asks if you need anything, or how he can support you. He has many questions. Some about the name, how you chose it, just personal but not super invasive questions, mostly friendly. It turns into a long talk about what your gender means for you, and what he can do to be supportive. After you both got together, months later you mention how you had been anxious to mention anything, and a soft smile graces his soft features. "MC, I love you to the moon and back, for who you are."

Beelzebub is a little nervous when you sit down with him while you're baking together. "Is everything okay, MC?" You explain things to him, voice quiet. Once you're done, a small smile crosses his face. "That's it?" You nod, he chuckles a little, "you had me nervous!" He pats you on the back, before asking if he can hug you. After a few months, you had both gotten together, and you had mentioned how anxious you were to bring it up to him. "Why would you be? Did I give you a reason to be nervous?" He seems troubled for a moment before you explain, and a smile graces his face before he grabs your hand. "I love you for you, MC. Exactly who you are."

Things have always been a little rocky with Belphegor. Because of the incident. But as you grow closer, you eventually tell him the news. He nods, "oh okay." He has no questions, he knows a little about it from Lilith, but that's about it. He is fairly quick to pull you back into his chest and lull you both to sleep. A couple months go by, you've started your relationship, and the topic comes up again. He asks a couple of questions, such as how you picked your name. You casually mention how nervous you had been when you told him, "really? I guess I'm not suprised, I am a little scary." He turns over in his spot to face you, "I love you for who you decide you are."

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