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ducktracy · 2 years

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So in “Back in Action”, it is claimed that if Porky dropped his stutter, he would be rendered unfunny. Do you think this is true?

i think there’s a big misconception that Porky’s stutter pulls more weight than it actually does. it can absolutely add its own humor and certainly a lot of charm, but i wholeheartedly disagree that he needs it to be funny

the stutter can be an avenue for a lot of fun or charming gags (the ever reliable bait and eh-sweh-swee-eh-swetch-swi—beh-bai-eh-bait and eh-seh-sweh—the ever reliable switcheroo is always a favorite, but the rare occasions where it’s actually acknowledged by Porky himself make for some fun situations too), but Porky’s personality is i think wholly independent from his speech patterns and many of his best cartoons aren’t because he has a stutter and nothing else. it can help with charisma for sure, and i definitely think it would be an odd if he didn’t have it, but… it’s like a topper for what’s already there. stutter or no stutter, he’s a bumbling, oblivious but endearing innocent. the stutter i think helps to convey all that, but is like a compliment to an already founded ensemble

outside of the bait-n-switch wordplay (which can be genius in its own right but IS often used as a crutch by directors when they’re having trouble finding inspiration for him), it’s rare that Porky or other characters really comment on the stutter. likewise, very rarely is it made fun of, and if it is it’s usually by characters who are purposefully supposed to be conveyed as assholes in the moment. which, y’know, is good! it’s not something that’s often noted by other characters and i think that does help in showing that he’s more than just a guy who stutters and doesn’t really single him out.

and you have clips like this for example—i didn’t notice anything odd about it until i noticed there wasn’t a stutter, and even then the personality is still all there in the voice (and mannerisms.) likewise, there’s quite a bit of his dialogue that he goes through without stuttering because having him stutter on every single sentence ever WOULD be excessive. it’s definitely an art, all of the varying directors have different variations of his stutter and as i said before, sometimes you CAN tell when the directors are struggling with inspiration because that’s when the switcheroos come out in close concentration; i don’t think it’s Porky being an unfunny character so much as it is the occasional lack of inspiration. the personality is VERY much there, but sometimes it can be hard to find depending on the circumstances. i have a hard time pinning that as a problem exclusive to Porky

i guess it depends who you ask. i am a Porky nut and often make a point to try and get people to come to The Pork Side because i feel he’s very underrepresented and a very FUNNY character at that! so i’m a bit biased—some other people may think he IS only funny because of the stutter. i personally think that’s very false and puts a lot of faith on the stutter when (at least in the originals) it’s not something given a lot of importance from the characters themselves. i can only really think of one cartoon where the stutter is central to the plot (two if you count the days with his original voice actor, whose stutter was natural)—it would certainly be odd without it, and i can see how it adds a lot of charm and some personality, but people who say he’s ONLY funny because of the stutter are usually people who don’t know how to write him to begin with

#i’ve said it before but i do have a bit of a mild stutter myself—i think part of it is because my brain and mouth are always both going #1000mph and i struggle to get the words out sometimes but even when that’s not the case it‘s still there/a nuisance #and i do genuinely believe i love writing so much/so LONG because i’m not really able to be as articulate in person as i am when i actually #have full control of my words. i am very very talkative and social so it’s not a shyness thing it’s just nice to actually be able to say #what you mean HAHAHA even if i do still put filler words and interjections in my typed speech #i know personally watching some Porky cartoons i’ve heard a particular line delivery and been like ‘oh hey that sounds realistic i’ve #sounded like that too!’ it’s rare since Mel Blanc’s stuttering is purposefully sort of doctored (i think it’s much less formulaic than what #Bob Bergen explained it as in that VERY VERY AWESOME of him laying out the stutter i love it but the formula really is a matter of voice #direction from the directors rather than Blanc himself) but i do kind of enjoy that #and likewise as i said before i enjoy that it’s not like. his defining factor. Porky does not go duck hunting because he has a stutter or #he doesn’t throw his cats out because he has a stutter he doesn’t explain his entire life’s history to a comatose dog in a barnyard then #feels a compulsion to excuse himself because of the stutter YKNOW… if you actually watch the cartoons it feels just like a compliment to #what’s already there. i do think it would be weird if he lost it and i think it has a lot of charm and can be an avenue for fun things but #in terms of pure humor? like from his personality? the stutter is irrelevant because a stutter is not a personality to begin with #but because people dismiss him as boring or don’t watch his cartoons he’s just known as the guy who talks funny and i think you’ll find so #much more if you actually watch the cartoons #i’d be lying if i said part of why i do my reviews was to shed Porky some light HAHAHAHA Daffy is my favorite i’ve said it before but nobody #*wasn’t #talks about Porky and as his self declared no. 1 fan (i say this facetiously) i feel it’s my civic duty #THIS IS SO LONG i shouldn’t apologize it’s my blog but. i’m behind on reviews and my next cartoon is a Porky short (that does very much use #his stutter as a crutch RIP) so this is like. my warm up. getting me in the zone. so thank you HAHAHAHAH #anonymous #asks #long post

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helluvapoison · 3 months

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Lucifer x Imp!Reader

warnings: imp bigotry, heavy topics, lowkey angsty (happy end, i swear)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Secret relationship, baby!

• Let’s get into the hard part first, shall we? The discrimination of Imps isn’t something Lucifer set into motion. They helped him build Hell into what it is today—! Which is… flawed. Fuck, there’s no excuse. Know that he doesn’t condone it and he’s ashamed to admit he allowed it get this far

• That saying “history repeats itself”? Yeah, Hell isn’t immune

• It’s an elephant in the room situation when your and Lucifer’s feelings come into play. Along with the enormous power imbalance. He would never take advantage of that, by the way, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there

• Those issues are in the beginning though. Yes, it takes a lot of time and many painful conversations but now? Undoubtedly worth it

• Lucifer is quite proud of himself for the charade he concocted. You pose as his employee! No one would question it and you could hang around as much as you like! It’s perfect, right?

• “It sounds like a shitty romcom plot.” You snort

Lucifer’s smile is unwavering, eyebrows high on his face as he awaits what he longs to hear.

“But?”

Sighing, you softly return his smile, “It’s perfect.”

• And like a shitty romcom, it is

• Naturally, there’s ups and downs

• For Lucifer, the worst is that he hates keeping you a secret. It’s not that he wants to dish it live with Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, he’s rather private as is, he’s just so— happy! He wants to show how proud he is to be yours! Unfortunately, that would do more harm for all of Hell. Selfish as his wants might be, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if it meant putting you in danger

• Occasionally he takes you to meetings and events. You try and slip into the background, supporting him from the shadows. Even from the other side of the room, Lucifer’s eyes will find you standing amongst the other Imps. He accidentally ends up ignoring whoever’s trying to rub elbows with the King of Hell

• (Honestly, it’s a miracle no one has found you two out yet. His longing gazes are far from subtle)

• Sometimes those outings don’t end well. A blue blooded dickbag might’ve dumped their drink on you or shoved you because you were “in the way” or berated you in front of everyone. Lucifer sees red and the entire event is cut short via a demonic rage. On a positive note, his publicity goes off the charts! “King of Hell defends his people, no matter the race!”

• (A motherfucking miracle, I tell you)

• Lucifer likes to take care of you when those incidents occur. He feels guilty. For everything. Reassuring him has always easy for you in any other situation. This one just bleeds into something personal. A failure

• So, you let him take care of you. It improves his mood bit by bit. Could be pancakes! No matter the time of day, Lucifer’s go-to are pancakes. (He’ll simply die all over again if you let him feed you too) Could be a bath for the two of you to share, he loves washing you and putting a bubble beard on your face

• Sleepovers can be a tad difficult to pull off but no one disturbs him in the mornings. He loves having you in his arms all night long. Kissing your horns, forehead, eyes, nose and lips— yes, in that order— before wishing you only the sweetest dreams

• Lucifer has a rubber duck that looks uncannily like you sitting on his desk at all times

• Oh! And despite being an Imp, you’re still taller than your beloved short king. It’s slight but he adores the difference

♡ a/n: if i had a nickel for every time a blue blood fell in love with an imp, i’d have /three nickels HAHAHA

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer

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mead-iocre · 13 days

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Ducky Turn! | Vivianne Miedema x Reader

You watched as Viv walked into the press conference room, trailing slightly behind Jonas. She was chatting animatedly to Connie, one of the Arsenal staff, and holding a reusable coffee tumbler in one hand. You also know that inside that tumbler is Viv’s favourite coffee "Morning Bliss," a small-batch, artisanal coffee roaster that you had bought from one of the local coffee shops in your area. She would sometimes bring a small bag of coffee beans to training or match days, and when you would ask her where she’ll find supplies to make the coffee, she’ll reply back with a“if there’s a will, there’s a way”. It’s become the only brand of coffee that Viv drinks.

Every morning, Viv likes to indulge herself in what she calls her “ritual”. The dutch begins her ritual by carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Morning Bliss beans. She prefers a medium roast, with notes of caramel and toasted almonds that allow the perfect balance of sweet to the bitter. She would grind the beans to perfection and then use the fancy sleek, stainless steel drip coffee maker that she had treated herself to a few months ago. As she waits for the brewing to complete, she would bask in the stillness and the quiet that is a rarity these days– or at least during the last 3 years.

Viv would then pour herself a cup, inhaling deeply as the steam rises and the aroma fills the empty kitchen. As she takes that first sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, Viv could not help but smile. For her, starting the day than with a cup of her favourite coffee is the second best thing to start the day. The first is–

She hears the pitter patter of little feet before she sees her.

“Mama!”

Evelyn, or Evie for short, is the best parts of you and Viv. Everyone says Evelyn is a spitting image of Viv—from the blonde curls that tumble down her back in unruly waves, to her vibrant hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold. Evelyn has your nose, petite and slightly upturned, and dotted with the same freckles across her cheeks that Viv loves to kiss every night before bed.

You say it’s too early to tell what kind of person your daughter will grow up to be, but Viv swears she’s your mini me. Viv says you’ve both got the same stubbornness (although you would argue Viv is also a contender), the same outgoing personality, and the same sheer curiosity for the world around her. Like you, your little girl is always eager to explore new places and try new things. Whether it's taking the dogs out on new hiking trails, or embarking on a family camping trip, her adventurous spirit knows no bounds.

During her ballet class, Evelyn loves to wear colourful ribbons and bows in her hair. She keeps the same ribbons in her hair during football practice too. When she laughs, her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, just like Viv. She loves to burst into a song or hum the tune of her favourite music, just like you do. She is your pride and joy, and your greatest accomplishment in life.

But she is also a whirlwind of energy that leaves a trail of chaos and laughter in her wake wherever she goes.

Viv recognises that gleam in Evie’s eyes and the furrow in her eyebrows as she glances at the last two steps leading to the kitchen.

Her daughter was going to jump.

Viv hastily puts her cup down and lurches forward, catching the tornado that is her child. There is not a day that goes by where Viv does not thank her athleticism for being able to keep up with her little daredevil.

She grasps her fearless little girl under her arms just before she can land the short distance to the ground. “Mama, Ducky jump!”

“I saw that, Ducky” She settles Evelyn on her hip, pressing a few kisses to her rosy cheek still warm from sleep. “But I’d rather not see that again. How many times have I told you you can’t jump from there”

“But I jump, Mama. Like a duck jumping in water!” Ducks are the little girl’s latest fixation– she loves going to the pond to watch the ducks, she loves to talk about ducks, she loves her duck stuffed animals etc. Viv thinks your daughter’s fascination with ducks was inevitable. When Evelyn was born, she was sweetly bundled in a light yellow blanket with a matching yellow beanie to warm her little head. Your private midwife briefly commented about how Evelyn little lips were constantly pursed in a pout whenever she slept, like that of a little duckling. Ever since then, “Ducky” became one of her nicknames.

Evelyn points one little chubby finger towards the kitchen counter where a plate of bite-sized waffles await her.

“Waffles!”

Viv snags the plate of waffles off the counter and deposits her duck-obsessed child into her booster chair. She hands her a fork and takes a seat on the chair right beside her. “Waffles yellow– like duckies, Mama!”

Viv smiles endearingly at her daughter, all cherubic face and bouncy curls. “Just like duckies, Evie”

——————————

Now at the press conference, you watch as Viv and Jonas take their seats in front of the press, politely saying a few greetings to some familiar faces. Viv’s eyes meet yours briefly and she offers you a quick wink.

Jonas leans forward in his seat and starts the press. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get this started then– I’ve got Vivianne Miedema with me today”

Being married to a footballer had it’s perks– free match tickets, the cool events, club merchandise, and the occasional Adidas billboards of your wife which your daughter loves to excitedly point out every time she spots one. However, sometimes it seems not everyone understands the difference between the Viv, the mum and wife, versus Vivianne Miedema, the footballer.

“Everyone” being your toddler.

She still hasn’t fully grasped the fact that her Mama can’t be on her beck and call, especially while she is at work. At the age of 3, she can’t tell the difference between the football that she plays at school and the football that her Mama plays. To her, it’s exactly the same.

After all, during her football practice if she looks to the sidelines where the other mummies and daddies are watching and yells for her Mama, her Mama will come running. In Evie’s mind, if she wants Mama, she’ll go to Mama.

You glance down at the little girl tucked in your arms. She was all buzz and energy throughout the match, crawling from lap to lap, jumping, dancing and shouting. It was no surprise that she was starting to doze off now. You were standing off to one side of the room, leaning against the wall to support the weight resting on your front. Evie was curled up in your arms, her eyes tiredly blinking open and closed a few times. Her tiny body was limp in your arms, her breath was evening out, and just like when she first came into this world, her little rosy lips were formed into a pout.

Just like a little duckling.

But despite your soft whispers to try to and lull her to sleep, your stubborn child was determined to fight the pull of slumber. You knew she wanted to see her Mama, just as she always did after a match. It was their routine, and Evie hated breaking routines.

“First question for Jonas…” You tune out the press for a brief moment, reaching out to adjust the yellow noise cancelling headphones that were slipping off of Evelyn’s head when all of a sudden she opens her eyes and sits up in your arms. You didn’t have to guess what had woken up your child when you hear it. “– now a question for Viv Miedema…”

What was once a sleepy and tired toddler is now gone. In it’s place is a little girl who has realised her favourite person is in the room. Her eyes were now bright and alert, craning her neck to follow the sound of her mama’s voice booming from the speakers around the room.

“…don't really think I celebrate goals but all the girls came up to me and they were taking the mick out of me because they were like 'You were actually celebrating’–“

You should’ve anticipated it. You should’ve know it. But by then it was too late.

“Mama!”

Your daughter yells for Viv, lurching forward with her arms open and fingers pointing towards where Viv was sitting at the front of the room. You had no choice but to crouch down so you could stead your suddenly wiggly child.

“Ducky, that’s enough” You speak in a hushed but firm tone. You knew that if you were to use your “Mummy voice” it would likely result in tears, and your daughter was not a quiet crier. “Mama is working right now”

But Evie was very determined to get to her mama, hastily trying to tug away from your hold on her arm. You knew heads were turning towards the both of you.

“Want Mama!”

“Evelyn–“ You try to hug her, wanting to pick her up and run out of the room before she causes anymore distractions. Right now she was the epitome of an incoming toddler tantrum. Her chest heaved with each shaky breath, her small shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. Her cheeks flushed pink with frustration, and her fists clenched at her sides.

“No no no no!” Her favourite word as of late and she was proudly demonstrating that she knew just how to use it. "No NO!"

Her big, doe-like eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood cocooned in your arms, but furiously squirming away from your hold. In your daughter’s mind, being told that she can’t go to her Mama right now was the most devastating thing in the world, and the injustice of it all was threatening to overwhelm her.

“–Liefje”

You look up as the sound of your wife’s voice and the familiar nickname echos around the room through the microphone. You crane your neck and you spot her now standing up from her chair, holding the mic to her mouth. She gives you a knowing smile. Viv always knows what to do.

“I’ll take her, Liefje. Give her to me” Viv waves a hand, beckoning you both closer.

You pick up your still teary, pouty daughter and hoist her up to your hip. You walk the short distance towards the front of the room where Viv and Jonas are waiting.

“Looks like Mama wants you, ducky” You murmur softly in Evie’s ear, pushing the curls of hair away from her eyes. Like a switch, your daughter perks up in your arms, twisting her head towards where you were heading. You could feel her little legs kicking the air in excitement. What a mood switch.

You stop by the side of the small stage, placing Evie on her feet and quickly grab her hairband that was in your pocket. “Wait one second, Ducky. Let’s fix your hair.” There were cameras around and you would imagine that 10 years from now, your daughter will never forgive you if you let her stand in front of the cameras with a bird nest on top of her head.

The hairband dangled from your fingers as you attempted to tame Evie’s unruly locks into a neat ponytail. But your daughter was having none of it. She wriggled, clearly eager to get to her Mama, as she batted your hands away.

And like always, Viv knew just what to do to keep your daughter from fussing. Temporarily. “Hi Ducky”

“Mama!” Chuckles round the room when mother and daughter exchanged waves of greetings to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other for days when in reality it had only been a few hours.

You sighed, a hint of amusement twinkling in your eyes as you gently combed through Evie’s hair with your fingers. “Almost done" you coaxed, your voice gentle and patient as you worked to wrangle your little girl’s wayward curls. You settled on just pushing the front pieces of hair away from her eyes with the hairband. “All done. Now you can go to Mama”

Evie did not need to be told twice.

Her little legs pumped furiously and her curly hair bounced behind her. She ran around the table, past Jonas’ chair, to where Viv was standing waiting for her. Viv swings her daughter up to her hip and you watch as Viv leans close to whisper by her ear– most likely prompting Evie to greet the journalists and cameras. Your suspicions were confirmed when your little social butterfly happily waves a hand and bellows a little “hello!”

Your smile widens when her greeting is echoed by all the journalists, some waving back just as eagerly as your toddler.

Viv then proceeds to sit back down, placing Evie on her lap. Your wife adjusts her chair and shuffles closer to the mic. “Sorry for that everyone…”

She gestures to the toddler who is currently conspiring with the Arsenal manager. “This one is going through a phase where I am her favourite person, and I’m making the most of it until she realises her Mummy is more fun than me”

Laughter rings around the room, but all you give the grinning dutch at the table is an eye roll. You know Evie loves you, but her bond with Viv was something special. Evelyn is Viv’s little shadow.

One of the journalists kindly gestures for you to take the seat next to him in front row of the table and you thank him as you take a seat.

“Right then. Let’s continue…” Jonas starts the press again, and this time, your toddler is happily sitting on her Mama’s lap.

———————————-

So far the press is continuing on as normal. Journalists are prepared with questions for Viv and Jonas. “My question is for Viv.” You crane your neck to see a journalists a few rows behind you hold a hand up. “You have broken countless records in England. Arsenal literally put you on a pedestal with a temporary statue outside the Emirates Stadium, a first for a female player. Do things like that matter?” Viv leans forward towards the mic. “No not at all. I’ve already had five great years but I indicated to the club that we have to do better. Other players have done that too. Hopefully the club can bring in some reinforcements this summer–

“AH!” Evie leans up, her little head nearly clashing into her Mama’s chin if it weren’t for Viv’s reflexes, and speaks directly into the mic. She giggles when it echos back.

You wince as the mic feedback rings loudly in the room.

“–Ducky, this mic is not for you. Mama’s trying to answer the question” Viv whispers but it obviously gets caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room. You press your lips together to conceal your giggle as you watch your wife attempt to coax your daughter into letting go of the mic stand. Unfortunately, it seems your daughter is very fixated on the microphone because she tries to grab for it again.

But Viv is faster. She hauls Evie off her lap for a second, turning her around so she is facing Viv and not the mic.

“Ducky turn!” Your daughter whines loudly. She is clearly displeased at being turned away from her new toy. She pouts, twisting her body back around, and points at the mic. “Ducky turn! Ducky turn!”

You never though you would say this, but maybe there are consequences in teaching your daughter how to share and take turns.

And your wife seems to think the same. “Well…at least you all have proof that we are teaching her how to take turns properly” She chuckles endearingly at the pouty toddler on her lap.

“Okay” Viv relents with a sigh. “Ducky gets a turn.” She lifts Evie and turns her back around so she is facing the rest of the room, the press, and her shiny new toy– the black microphone.

You shake your head as you watch your wife visibly soften. Evie has Viv wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. Viv is almost always unable to deny her daughter anything, even if she claims to be the more stricter parent out of the two of you.

“Since it’s Ducky’s turn, why don’t you have a go at answering the questions then?” Viv pulls the chair closer towards the table so Evie can reach the mic more comfortably. She directs the question to everyone in the room, clearly giving the reporters permission to ask Evie some questions.

Not a second later, a few hands are up in the air. You smile at the sight of these very professional reporters taking the time to entertain your daughter’s antics, no matter how silly they may be.

Jonas playfully gasps and leans into his mic. “Wow Evie, look at that! So many people want to ask you questions”

“What do you think, ducky?” Viv asks the grinning toddler in her lap. “Which question shall we take?”

Your daughter cutely scrunches her face in concentration, one chubby little finger tapping her lips as if she was contemplating the secrets of the universe. You watch as she scans her choices of eager hands, and then points to a man sitting by the front row. You watch as Evie lean up to whisper something to her Mama and then turns back around with a shy smile.

“Evie will take a question from the man in the front row with the yellow tie” Of course, it’s the yellow tie. Anything yellow is guaranteed to win your daughter over.

“Hello Miss Evelyn. My question for you is: what did you think of your Mum scoring two goals today?”

You watch as Viv pulls the mic closer towards Evie, giving her a nod of support when your daughter turns to her for encouragement.

“Uh…” You cringe internally as your daughter presses her mouth as close to the mic as possible, practically gnawing on it, and the sound is magnified by the speakers. The press seem to take it to stride, a few coos of encouragement sounding around the room. “…I like duckies”

“Oh! That’s nice” Bless the journalist. You doubt that bit would make it to the final draft of the article. “Ducks are quite nice, aren’t they?”

Your daughter nods and hums into the mic, wriggling from her spot on your wife’s lap, clearly eager to talk more about her favourite subject. “Duckies yellow!”

You watch as the journalists couldn't help but be charmed by Evelyn’s enthusiasm, their professional demeanour melting away as they listened to your spirited little girl. Some even leaned in closer, eager to catch every word she says, the cameras capturing the moment.

“Ducks are yellow, clever girl! But let Mama have a turn now, please” You try to stifle your laughter behind your hand as Viv has to practically wrestle the mic away from Evie, grabbing both of her little hands in one of hers to settle the mischievous toddler.

———————————————

Viv was more than happy to continue the rest of the press with her daughter in her lap, even if she has to routinely stop and grab a little hand as it beelines for the microphone. Viv lets Evie babble into the microphone a more few times and she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her heart. She may be a footballer on the pitch, but her greatest joy was sitting right here in her lap, eager to share in her world, one stolen microphone at a time.

“Do you want to say anything to Mummy?” Viv points you out for your daughter to see. It was already nearing the end of the press conference. "Anything to say to Mummy before we finish?”

Your daughter thinks for a moment, her face titling to the side and her nose adorably scrunching up in concentration. Thinking about what to say to your Mummy is a very big task for a 3 year old. The room goes silent as everyone waits with baited breath.

“…I- I love you, Mummy”

Hey, my loves!

It's been while since I posted and that's mainly due to life getting in the way + not being inspired to write. By some miracle, I somehow managed to finish writing this short little fic (featuring a different player this time– surprise!). This was inspired by seeing that cute video of Alex Morgan and her daughter doing post-match interviews lol

hopefully this will only motivate me to keep on writing.

I appreciate all of you, thanks for being patient

-- butter

#woso x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #viv miedema

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wosoimagines · 2 months

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Swap - Jessie Fleming/Reader

just a little something for you guys that i've had an idea about for way too long (thank the USWNT v Canada game for this cause it made me remember how much i love Jessie)

prompt: Jessie and R have a long standing tradition of trading jerseys, but someone gets in the way of that.

warnings: none

words: 1,256

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I found Jessie in the crowd. I knew that the game didn’t actually end the way either of us wanted, but at least neither of us could be that upset since we didn’t lose.

“Swap with me?”

My eyes darted away from where they had locked onto Jessie to turn to Eriksson. I tilted my head in confusion. I had never actually talked to Eriksson before other than some light trash talk on the field.

“You want my jersey?”

Eriksson softly chuckled but nodded.

One of the best centerbacks in the game wanted my jersey.

It was still surreal that there were other players out there who would seek me out to get my jersey.

“Well, I feel like it would be fitting considering how much trouble you give me during these derby games and when you play against Sweden.”

“Oh.”

I still didn’t make a move to take my jersey off though. My eyes darted to where Jessie was talking to a couple of her teammates.

“So, how many of her jerseys do you have, and you still haven’t told her how you feel?”

My eyes snapped back to where Eriksson was standing. She was watching me, but I knew that she was aware of who I was staring at.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged as I ducked my head. It honestly was too high of a number to count now. We had gotten into the habit of trading our jerseys at least once a year when we played each other, and, honestly, even when we didn’t play against each other nationally, we still saved each other a jersey from the year. “We just kind of started as teenagers and never stopped. It’s our little tradition now when we play each other the first time of the year to swap.”

“How about this,” Eriksson started, causing me to look over at her, “you go tell Jessie how you actually feel about her, and I’ll wait until the next time we play to swap with you.”

I huffed a little at that. It wasn’t that I didn’t mind telling the world about Jessie and me, but Jessie was such a private person that I didn’t mind keeping our relationship from the world. Besides, our family and most of our friends knew.

Well, at least most of my friends knew. If Jessie’s captain didn’t even know then I wasn’t sure who all on her club team knew. I didn’t even know if any of them knew.

“I’d much rather just break tradition.”

Eriksson raised her eyebrows at that.

It wasn’t often that I would turn down a challenge. But if Jessie’s own teammates didn’t know, then I definitely didn’t want to risk them and the fans finding out about our relationship because I took Eriksson’s challenge.

“Didn’t think it was like you to turn down a challenge.”

“Not usually, no,” I said as I tugged my jersey over my head. “But there are some things that are better left the way they are. My friendship with Jessie isn’t one I’m going to risk for a jersey.”

“Wouldn’t she be more upset that you’re not trading with her?”

I shrugged at that. Jessie probably would be upset with me initially, but I figured she would probably get over it pretty quickly since I knew neither of us would be required to go in tomorrow. We always had the day after derbies off.

“I’ll trade with her next derby. And maybe you could convince Harder to trade with me the game after that?”

“I’ll mention it to Pernille.”

I grinned at that as Eriksson finally pulled her own jersey off. I had been wanting to trade with Pernille Harder for quite some time, but I never had gathered the courage to ask the forward I looked up to. I handed mine over to her as she handed her jersey to me. I wasn’t surprised either when we were asked to pose for a picture with each other.

Once the picture was over, I shook hands with Eriksson.

“You should still tell her,” Eriksson said as she pulled me closer to her. “I think you might be surprised with how she feels about you too.”

“We’ll see.”

Eriksson gave me a pat on the back before she was off towards Harder. I sighed as I shook my head. I turned to try and find Jessie; I wasn’t surprised to find her still with Nimah as they talked with Lotte and Leah. I grinned as I weaseled my way in between Leah and Jessie, but it dropped a bit as Jessie’s eyes darted down to the jersey in my hands before looking at me.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the conversation that the three English players were having as it was obviously more about their next camp. I nudged Jessie before nodding my head towards the tunnels.

Jessie glanced at Nimah before she nodded. I smiled a bit wider at that as the two of us split off with waves to our respective teammates. Jessie stayed quiet as the two of us headed toward the tunnel.

“So, my place or yours?” I asked. Jessie tilted her head to the side as she looked at me. “Well, normally the winner takes the loser home, but we drew.”

Jessie slowly nodded at that.

“Didn’t realize you still wanted to come home with me.”

My brow furrowed at that. I had no real idea why Jessie would think that I didn’t want to go home with her.

“Considering you swapped your jersey with someone else. Thought you of all people would keep with tradition.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You swapped with someone else.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

I huffed because I was sure that we were attracting quite a bit of unwanted attention from fans. I grabbed onto Jessie’s arm as I dragged her into the tunnel finally before heading toward a more secluded area of the Emirates.

“Look, I did it for you.”

“Doing it for me would have been swapping with me.”

“Are you jealous?”

Jessie scoffed at that as she began to shake her head.

“You are!”

“Am not!”

“Are so!”

“You can sleep on the couch then.”

I rolled my eyes at that. I knew that Jessie wouldn’t actually make me sleep on the couch, especially since we hadn’t been able to spend time with each other in the same place since the winter break. Facetime and phone calls only went so far.

“She wanted me to tell you how I felt,” I admitted. Jessie raised an eyebrow at that. “Eriksson. I told her it was tradition for us to switch jerseys and she told me that I could switch with you if I told you how I felt. I didn’t want to put you in the spot where you either had to out our relationship to your teammates if you haven’t told them or where you had to act like you rejected me. I know you want to keep us private from the public eye. So, I figured I could just swap with Eriksson this time and we’ll swap next time.”

“I get it the next time though,” Jessie said as she poked at my chest, “and I guess you can sleep in the bed with me since you did it to make sure that our relationship stayed out of the public eye.”

I grinned at that.

“Does that mean I finally get my kiss from you?”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming imagines #jessie fleming x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #woso imagines #uswnt imagines #arsenal wfc imagines #woso #jessie fleming #uswnt #arsenal wfc

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targaryenluvs · 4 months

Text

BREAKUPS & MAKEUPS

pairing: finnick odair x fem!victor!reader

summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you breakup or makeup? again?

warnings: major flirting, TEARS, confrontation, mentions of cheating and rumours, insinuations, heavy tension and make outs, miscommunication and my terrible descriptions of make outs?? inappropriate talks n teasing, motherly mags

word count: 2.1k

a/n: old married couple bickering is my fav NOT PROOFREAD

you’d hoped you’d never see him again, only on screens and what not. but of course you’d get fucked over like this. ignoring him in the training quarters was one thing but the arena?

you were angry. so was everyone else in the room of course. rather than lashing out at people you figured channeling your energy into training was a much better outlet.

the daggers in your hands were nothing but iconic. you felt like you were in your own games again. having them in your hands felt, odd, but familiar. like a distant memory in the back of your mind. but it was muscle memory when it came to training as you stood upright. your arm retracted back and launched forwards, again and again.

“what’d the target do to you?” the dreaded voice you’d been hoping to avoid under all measures, and he was right behind you. “finnick, to what do i owe the pleasure?” he looked down at the floor and then back at you before grinning, “felt you were missing me, and perhaps my face would reinvigorate your training.” you smiled sweetly, and he could tell it was fake. as much as you hated it, the two of you knew eachother all too well.

“you were wrong but great guess. see you around.” you placed the remaining daggers down and made your way to move around him but he held his hand out, placing it against a wall and blocking your path. “come on honey, talk to me.” you raised your hand and patted his cheek, “i’d rather not.” you smiled at him again before ducking underneath his arm.

he reclined his head back and groaned. were you seriously going to ignore him this whole time?

your feet pounded against the rocky shore as you reached the cornicopia and headed for your daggers and sword. of course a heavy sword wasn’t always the most practical, but you’d trained with it for so long it was more than easy to use. you may be small but you sure as hell weren’t weak. but one look at finnick, with wet hair, dripping down and his arms flexing as he picked up his trident sent your head into spiral.

“sweetheart you know i love it when you stare but right now is not the time.” you scoffed, “whatever, now duck.” the dagger you released went right through a tribute behind finnick as katniss approached you both, taking note of finnicks gold bracelet and your golden necklace.

“good thing we’re allies right?” finnick grinned whilst showing off his bracelet. “where did you get your jewellery?” katniss was not in the mood to play around, neither were you since you saw finnicks face. just your luck, you were in the same alliance as him. “where do you think?” you and finnick spoke in unison as you threw an annoyed glance his way. copycat.

“where’s your fiancé?” you asked as finnick walked past the two of you and around the corner before yelling out to the pair of you that mags had found him.

as much as you’d rather move on and away from them you stayed. when finnick didn’t resurface you held your breath, he was okay right? he was an amazing swimmer, there’s no way he’d drown or anything. the sigh you let out when he came back to land was too big for your liking and even he could tell you were relieved.

“i knew you still cared about me.” finnick laughed as you all walked through the jungle. “you never stop talking do you? you were always the chatty one.” you wanted to tear out his eyes, or his tongue. all you wanted was to walk in peace and you knew he’d never let that happen. he wouldn’t stop staring at you and you hated it, he loved doing it since he knew it always got you flustered.

you were his entertainment source.

“well someone had to be. you usually only talked to a few people. but you always talked to me, especially when we were in bed.”

“god you’re so inappropriate.”

“you like inappropriate. i remember a captiol dinner party and a bathroom-”

“shush!” you whisper-yelled as he laughed again.

“did you two use to date or something?” peeta asked as he chopped away at the greenery. your dramatic sigh and slumped shoulders gave you away, “sadly, yes.” finnick bumped your arm with his, “it wasn’t all bad. we were quite the pair if i do say so myself.” you waved him off as you continued to walk.

“you’re a bit red in the face there.” your hand reached up as you subconsciously touched your face to gage your temperature. “am i? who would’ve thought a hot rainforest would overheat someone especially after they haven’t drunk water in a while.” you stated the obvious whilst finnick raised his eyebrows, “only reason you have?” you breathed in and out before facing his way,

“yes.”

you could practically feel his amusement and you saw him nodding along. “you are quite literally one of the most hydrated people i know. you’d always remind me to hydrate and there’s no way you didn’t drink water beforehand and you care about your self a lot.”

“how on earth do you make teasing someone so nice and why the hell do you remember all that?” finnick shrugged, “i remember things about people i like.” you smiled, “oh. that’s sweet.”

“especially the gorgeous ones.” and he was back.

you rolled your eyes again, “of course you’d say that. your voice does my head in, i’m going to walk with someone i actually like.” you emphasised on the last word as you quickened your pace to match mags.

“oh don’t be sour sweetie.” finnick teased as you flicked him the finger. mags noticed and pinched your cheek, “ow! okay okay, i’m sorry.” peeta laughed and so did katniss, it was like watching two kids be chastised by their own mother.

katniss was on night watch and you were wide awake. this certainly wasn’t how you were expecting to see finnick again, let alone sleep with him. well next to him. turns out he wasn’t either.

as much as his presence and speech exuded confidence his mind was hazy. being so near to you, talking to you and being with you. it was driving him crazy. and as much as he joked and teased, all he wanted was to be with you again. he thought you wanted anything but. “can’t sleep?” damn him and his observant self. “mhm, you?” he turned his head your way and you looked to his. “why’d you cheat on me?” you blurted out at him and as soon as you saw his eyebrows furrow you wanted to drown yourself in the water.

he sat up immediately and you did too. “cheat? what’re you talking about y/n/n?” it was your turn to be confused, “my friends old me about the rumours. that you got with some girl from four whilst i was in the captiol for adrenias wedding.” about three years ago it was your favourite stylists third wedding and she would not take a no for an answer. “i never- who told you that? amelia?” of course he’d randomly remember things about you, and the people around.

“no- maybe- yes. it really did hurt me. if you didn’t want to be with me anymore you should’ve just said something to me rather than cheating on me finn.” his breath hitched at his nickname and he couldn’t help but admire you.

even if you were all tired out and sweaty you looked as gorgeous as he remembered. your hair was tied up per usual, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were teary. finnick couldn’t help but remember how much he still loved you. he’d never cheated on you, he would and will never cheat on you. you were one of the few people in his life he truly cared for and he lost you. it was one thing for the two of you to break up but he never knew why.

you’d stopped talking to him or sending correspondence via letter. every time he reached out to talk to you or meet you, finnick was met with excuses. somehow he was never able to walk over to your house at the right time. in the mornings you’d be asleep and he wouldn’t want to wake you. the afternoons meant you were visiting friends, shopping for groceries, working in town, teaching kids to fish. you loved your district and you hated being alone in the house. your parents lived in their own home and worked in a job they liked. your siblings were happily married and after breaking up with finnick you were practically alone.

and so was finnick.

you didn’t mean to get emotional but you’d never ever fully gotten over it, over him.

having him infront of you and listening to you when you never had the courage to tell him about what you’d heard was oddly horrifying. the idea of listening to his side of the story? he was an annoying ass you wanted to leave behind but something about his expression let you know that there was something wrong.

finnick grabbed your chin to have you looking at him before holding your hands. “i never cheated on you y/n.”and there it was, your relationships saving grace. “but- the rumours?” you were crying and he was tearing up, “you broke up with me over rumours? we wasted three years of our lives because you-” his voice broke and yours was wavering. you clutched onto his hands, as if he would slip away without. “i’m so sorry finn, i always felt like you deserved someone better than me. everyone loves you and i felt like i couldn’t be the girl you wanted. when amelia told me i felt like it was an opening, i didn’t want to hold you back.”

you looked like a trainwreck but finnick couldn’t care less, he had the girl of his dreams back in his arms again and he’d be damned if let you go again.

“y/n you are everything i’ve ever wanted. when you stopped talking to me i thought i did something wrong.” you shook your head immediately, “no you didn’t it was all me.” finnicks hands were on your face as he leaned his forehead against yours, “i would never cheat on you and i never did. i love you y/n, i’ve loved you for so long and when you wouldn’t talk to me i didn’t know what to do, i was lost and it felt like the only light in my life was gone. i promise i’ll get you out of here, i promise.”

the kiss was desperate and heated and everything you’d ever wanted. his hands were frantic and roaming, muscle memory, his grip was iron tight on your waist as he pushed you onto the ground as he separated from you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he muttered as he kissed you again and moved to your neck as your hands tangled in his hair. the salty smell of him was nothing short of home.

finnick was your home and you’d navigated your way back to him and he had to you. two lost wanders finding solace and comfort in a kindred soul, a fairytale ending.

the one you both deserved.

the shuffling in the distance and katniss announcing the fog brought you out of paradise but not before one last kiss.

“i missed you.” you whispered as he grinned,

“i know.”

#finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x female reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #hunger games x reader

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

you ask and you shall recieve, older!eddie not only helping you relax your mind after a rough day but also, being the only one who's ever been able to put you in subspace, because the man KNOWS how to treat a woman<3 im in like desperate need for this kind of fic because i need someone to put me in subspace

The joy I got from this request. You have no idea. Older!Eddie is literally my ultimate weakness. But I tried to be as accurate as possible with subspace, even though it's different for everyone.

You can meet how Eddie and reader met here!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), choking, spanking, subspace, soft dom!eddie, sub!reader, older!eddie, age gap (Eddie is 42, reader is 24)

Words: 3.1k

It may be true that your apartment is closer to work than Eddie’s trailer, but your car always seems to have a mind of its own when you’ve had a bad day. You’re pretty sure that your car takes over and brings you to your boyfriend’s place without you even being conscious of it. Today was no different. You’d forgotten your lunch at home, been late because of traffic, and worst of all, been passed over for the promotion you know you deserved.

It all led you to sitting in your car outside of Eddie’s home, his truck not in its usual place in front of the trailer. He should be home any minute, but every second that ticks by grates on your nerves like a broken bow on a fiddle.

The moment you see—or rather, hear—his truck come into the trailer park, you yank your key out of the ignition and get out of the car. The squeaky bucket of bolts careens into its usual spot, then falls silent. The blaring metal music stops, and the engine dwindles down until it’s quiet. The driver’s door opens before you hear it slamming closed.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie says as he walks around the front of the truck. He takes a drag of the cigarette he’s been smoking, then tosses it into his empty garbage can out front. “Been here long?”

“Not really,” you say, instantly attaching yourself to his side once you’re close enough. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Eddie says, ducking down to press a kiss to your head. “How was work?”

When your only response is a sigh, Eddie frowns, the subtle wrinkles by his eyes becoming even more prevalent. He tugs you over to the front door and ushers you in once he’s unlocked it. You watch as he takes his hair tie out, shaking his mane free. The wild brown curls cascade down to his shoulders. Unable to help it, you reach up and play with the hair framing his face. It’s something that’s always calmed both of you; you playing with his hair. It can relax Eddie to sleep and have you forgetting all your troubles of the day. Wrapping a single curl around your index finger, you notice the start of some gray at his temples. It makes sense since the lack of color has been popping up more and more in his beard and stubble lately. You don’t think he believes you when you tell him how sexy it is.

Eddie leans down, cupping your face in his hands, and presses a soft kiss to your mouth.

“Rough day, baby?”

You nod and he instantly wraps you up in his arms. He hasn’t even changed out of his greasy coveralls yet, but you couldn’t care less as you bury your head in his chest. His large hand strokes up and down your back as he presses sweet kisses to the top of your head. When he goes to pull away, your fingers tighten over the zipper of the coveralls, silently begging him not to let go.

“Don’t want me to make something for dinner?” he asks. You shake your head against his body. “Want me to order takeout?” You shrug. Eddie sighs and squeezes you against his body. “How about this…” Eddie pulls back just enough so he can tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Why don’t I call up to get some Chinese food delivered—I know, I know, Golden Palace is your favorite—and I’ll get changed and hold you in my lap until the food gets here.”

“I’d like that,” you tell him. Satisfied that he came up with an agreeable arrangement, Eddie smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

He makes his way into the kitchen, balancing the phone receiver on his shoulder as he searches the fridge for the magnet with Golden Palace’s phone number on it. “Want your usual, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” Kicking off your shoes, you nudge them over to join the tiny pile of Eddie’s near the front door. As he talks on the phone, you make your way down the hall to his bedroom. The starchy blouse and pinching skirt you’ve been wearing all day have worn out their welcome. Slipping them both off, you drop them on the chair in the corner of Eddie’s room. Spotting your favorite pair of Eddie’s sweats hanging out of a drawer, you move to go get them before freezing in place. No, you decide, you don’t want to wear them. You’re content in just your bra and panties.

Eddie’s bed is one of your favorite places in the world. And here and now? It’s just about irresistible. Climbing on, you lay back against his pillow and take in the messy room around you. Clothes are strewn about everywhere, despite his hamper in the corner being empty. There are a few photo frames on the walls now, which makes you smile. Before you, there’d only been posters of bands and movies. Some are still there, but now there are also photo collage frames on the walls featuring the people he loves. His uncle is in a few of them, as well as his buddies from his old Hellfire days. There’s even some of you that you begged him not to hang up, but he said you looked so good in them that he wanted to look over at them whenever he wanted. But your favorites are the ones of you two together. One of them is from when you’d gone to Chicago together and got caught in a snowstorm. Another is of you standing on the corner of a dock at Lover’s Lake, where you forced Eddie to hold onto your hips and recreate the Titanic pose. He’d rolled his eyes, but who’s laughing now that he put the picture up on his wall?

Eddie steps into the bedroom and stops when he sees you only in your underwear. “Babe, you can borrow clothes. You know that.”

“Didn’t wanna,” you say, making grabby hands for him. A soft smile comes to his face as he sheds himself of his coveralls and climbs on the bed next to you.

“What do you want?” Eddie asks. He’s pretty sure he already knows, but you both know you’ve got to ask for it. His suspicions are even further confirmed when you just look at him from beneath your eyelashes, fluttering them at him. “Tell me, princess.”

“Want you to make me feel better,” you say in a hushed voice. Not looking him in the eyes, you trail your fingers over Eddie’s thin gray t-shirt. “Want you to take care of me. Like only you can.”

Before Eddie, you barely had any sexual experience. But with the limited amount you did have, guys could never make you feel good. They were lacking in multiple ways, actually. Not only could none of them bring you to orgasm, but they couldn’t even distract you sufficiently when all you needed was to get out of your head for a little while. Eddie had gotten you into subspace the very first time he’d tried. Never before had you trusted someone so much, felt completely safe, which only added to the hazy feeling that came over you. You’re pretty sure Eddie was made specifically for you. Funnily enough, he thought the very same thing.

Eddie nods, laying one of his large hands on your stomach. His calloused fingers rub against your bared skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I can do that,” Eddie assures you. “Let’s get you more comfortable, okay babydoll?” At your nod, Eddie slips your panties from your legs and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. Once the garments are tossed somewhere on the floor, Eddie crawls on top of you, nuzzling his nose against yours. His nose trails down to your throat, but that’s not the part of him you want there. Eddie notices the barely there whine that escapes you as he places a hard kiss against the soft skin of your neck.

“My princess wants my hands, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie shrugs himself out of his t-shirt and unzips his jeans. He might as well take it all off now because he doesn’t want to have to stop for a single moment once he’s got you going. Finally shed of all articles of clothing, Eddie lays one large, tattooed hand on your hip. Ever so slowly, he moves the hand up your body. Over the softness of your tummy, over the small tattoo you’d gotten on your ribs, just below your breast, that you decided to get after admiring Eddie’s ink for so long. Finally, his hand trails over the swell of your breast, only pausing briefly to flick a thumb over your nipple, before slipping over your collar bone and halting on the one place you wanted it. The pressure Eddie applies to his hand on your throat isn’t enough to impact your breathing, but enough to feel the possessiveness in the gesture. Waiting until your eyes slip closed, Eddie tightens his hand just slightly, causing a hitch in your breathing. This is your sweet spot, he knows. Right where you start to feel your worries melt away.

“You want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes, sir. Want you t-to fill me up, please,” you say.

“Gonna fuck my baby girl so hard,” Eddie says as he nudges your legs apart. “Won’t be able to have a thought in her pretty little head that’s not about me and how good my cock is making her feel.”

Resting back on his knees—but not too far back, keeping the pressure on your throat—Eddie spits into his free hand before working his saliva up and down his cock. Seeing you already relaxing, legs spread, eyes closed, and his hand on your throat? Eddie didn’t need to pump himself very many times before he was clamoring to be inside of you. Running his fingers through your folds, grinning in satisfaction at how wet you already are, he mixes your slick with the saliva on his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance, eyes focused on your face as he pushes in. Your brows pull together, just a little, and a low breathy moan escapes your lips. Eddie leans over you, bracing himself on the forearm of the arm that’s not holding you around the throat.

“How’s that, baby?”

“More.”

“More, what?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.

“More, please, sir.”

“That’s my good girl.”

A groan tumbles out of Eddie as he bottoms out. He thrusts his hips, sliding himself in and out of you, picking up the pace just a hair each time. The pressure on your throat increases as his hips snap against yours.

“Wanna tell me what happened at work? What’s got you so upset?” he asks as he keeps a steady pace.

Keeping your eyes closed, a sigh escapes your lips. “Out of all the p-people who started working there around the same time I did, I-I’m the one who’s most qualified for—.”

“Ah,” Eddie cuts you off with a tut. “That was a test to see if I fucked the stress out of you yet. And I failed.” At that, he begins pounding into you even harder, the headboard against the wall sounding like a jackhammer. Whimpers start to fall from your lips, and when you open your eyes, a few tears slide down the sides of your face. Eddie pulls out of you, releasing his hand from your throat and you groan at the loss of both sensations. “Come on up, baby. I want you on your hands and knees.”

Letting out a small whine, you turn your head to bury it in his pillow. “M’comfy, sir.”

“Up, princess,” he orders.

He slips his hand underneath you and pulls up. Complying, you move slowly, letting Eddie know that you're headed in the right direction. Once he’s satisfied that you’re in the position he wants, —and has admired the view—Eddie pushes his cock back inside of you. He gives it a few thrusts before his one hand grabs your hip hard enough to bruise and the other gives a harsh smack against the soft plush skin of your ass.

“That’s one, baby,” Eddie says. “Want you to count them for me, okay?” When your only response is a nod, Eddie gives your ass another smack. “Okay?”

“Y-Yes,” you whine. “That was two, sir.”

“Good girl,” Eddie says as his hand rubs over the area he just struck. With no warning, he pulls his hand back and gives another stinging slap.

“Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Uh…”

“Come on babydoll, what number are up to now?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t remember, sir,” you admit with a whimper.

That’s the answer Eddie wanted, though. Your brain was slowly turning to mush, which meant he was doing his job. It almost meant that he needed to get you on your back again, since he knows that’s where you get the most enjoyment out of subspace.

After one more smack to your ass, Eddie reaches forward and wraps his thick fingers around the front of your neck. He guides you up until your back is pressed flush up against his chest.

“How’s my princess feeling?” he asks as he slips out of you. The sensation causes a whine, bringing a soft smile to Eddie’s lips. “Shh, just changing positions, sweetheart.” He carefully maneuvers you until you’re lying on your back again. Before you get fully down though, he slips a pillow under your hips. One, it’ll support your ass, being sore from the spanking. And two, this angle always allows Eddie to hit your sweet spot.

Hands holding onto your hips, Eddie slides himself back inside of you, causing your face to scrunch up in the most adorable way. He lowers himself to hover over you, his dark curls curtaining his face above yours, like the two of you are locked together in this private moment. Your eyes blink open, sleepily, as he starts pounding into you again. Eddie’s wish was coming true; there was nothing in your head besides him. Heavy eyelids drooping, your gaze shifts down to his scruff, making Eddie let out a breathy chuckle.

“Looking at the gray again, baby? I don’t get what you find so sexy about it. Like the fact that I’m old, huh? That I know what I’m doing and know how to take care of this tight little pussy of yours? None of those boys your age know how to handle a woman like you, do they? No. You need me. I know what you need, baby girl. I know what makes you feel so good.”

Eyes becoming too tired to hold open, you let them close again. Your mouth opens slightly, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Such a pretty girl.” Your eyes open again, the fucked out expression a sign of victory for Eddie. “Aww, look at you. Got my smart girl all nice and dumb, huh? My cock that good, princess?”

Whines begin to fall from your lips, your brows tighten up. Eddie can read your body better than he can read The Hobbit, so he knows you’re very close. It’s a good thing too, because so is he. Whenever he sees you this blissed out, it hurtles him towards his own release.

Supporting his body with one arm, Eddie reaches down and rubs tight circles over your clit. “How’s that, babydoll? Does that feel good for my baby?”

There’s an imperceptible nod of your head, but Eddie sees it. Feels the way your walls are starting to clench around his throbbing cock.

“Let go, sweetheart. Let me make you feel so good.”

Your body is limp, the only movement is the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and your hips as they move against Eddie of their own accord. The moment your body tips over the edge and into your orgasm, Eddie feels his. Feels the way you soak and clench his cock. It has his hips stuttering, letting out a string of moans and curses as he releases inside of you.

“Fuck, princess,” Eddie says as his body comes down from his high. He looks down at you, eyes open but glossy and relaxed. Mouth curled into a lazy smile as you look back up at him. You’re spent and so is he.

Taking a deep breath to try and get his breathing back to normal, Eddie pulls out and flops down beside you. He knows sometimes it can take you a little while to come back to him when you’re in this state. But he also knows that holding you while you’re in this haze is your favorite part. Maneuvering the blanket on the bed—which he now needs to wash—he tucks it up to both of your waists. Slowly and gently, Eddie manages to get you to turn over and holds you in his arms. Your face nuzzles into his neck, your sweat and his blending together.

“You did so good for me, baby girl. You’re always so good for me. I’m one lucky old man.”

The soft giggle against his skin lets him know that you’re still there with him. He rests his head against yours and runs his fingertips up and down your bare spine. “Why don’t we take a bath after this, hmm? Nice warm bath, then curl up on the couch. You can pick a movie to watch while we eat dinner. How’s all that sound?”

“Good,” you say, barely audible. Your arms slip around Eddie’s waist, and you pull yourself as close to him as you can in your floaty state.

Eddie gives you a gentle squeeze in his arms. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look up at him. Gazing into your eyes, he can see that you’re coming back to him bit by bit. Once you relax your grip on him, he’ll go get you some water to drink and run the hot water for the bath. But right now, he’s going to lay here and enjoy the cuddles that you both need. He knows you’ll thank him for this when you’re fully returned. And he’ll tell you yet again how you don’t have to thank him for it. That he loves being with you like this. The fact that you trust him in this way. Seeing you go from majorly stressed to being totally blissed out was more than enough thanks for Eddie. He feels honored that he gets to help you in this way. His perfect little girl.

“How you feeling?” Eddie asks softly.

“So good,” you say dreamily, making Eddie chuckle. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too, princess.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request #roses collection

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levitiquee · 5 months

Text

“Levi!”

You barge through the door, all dramatic, gasping and panting, purposely exaggerating to get his attention. But not to your surprise, he didn’t even bother looking up.

“I suppose no one ever taught you, but there’s a concept called knocking.” He said, his eyes fully focused on the papers. His hand moving across it as he wrote. “It’s quite easy really, you raise your hand and—”

“Levi!” You cut him off, slamming the door behind you loudly. “Levi, my beloved, my savior in dark times, I am in need of your help.”

“Slamming the door isn’t very polite either. Your manners get worse everyday.”

You waved him off, shushing him. You made way across the room, where a couch sat not far from the desk he was sitting on, and flopped down face first. “Levi.” Your voice came out muffled.

“Ah yes, making yourself home I see.” He sighs.

“Levi, I need your help. Real bad.”

“No.”

“What–” You look up, raising your face from the cushions, offended. “You didn’t even–”

“No.” He repeated, eyes not leaving his work for even a second. “Please, get off my couch. Cleaning it is tiresome.”

“Levi.” You whined, impatient at his aloofness. “Levi, he’s going to kill me.”

“I’ll buy you a good coffin.”

“This isn’t funny.” You huffed. “I’m dead. Like literally. Absolutely. This is where it all ends.”

“I’d rather you not die on my couch.”

“Fuck your couch.” You flipped yourself, so you splayed on your back now. You tilted your head, staring at him. “Help me out. Please?”

Levi finally turns to look at you, unable to ignore you any longer. He frowned. “What?” He asked warily. “What did you do this time?”

“Promise me you’ll help me first.” You said.

“No.” He immediately rejects you. “What did you do? Did you get into a fight with an MP again?”

You shook your head.

“Blew up something in Hange’s lab?” He guessed.

“No. But I’d really rather it was Hange mad at me though.”

He looked at you confused, “Who did you piss off then? “

You grimaced. He was quick to conclude.

“Ah.” He realizes. “Erwin.”

A nod from you answers him.

“What did you do?”

“Ask me what I didn’t do.”

“What didn’t you do?”

“Work.” You sat up. “In my defense, it was a shit load of work. And I hate paperwork. And I kept procrastinating. And now it’s due by tomorrow and I didn’t remember until two minutes ago when Erwin shot a glare at me. And now I—”

“I’m not helping you.”

“Why not?” You demanded.

“It’s your fault. Don’t drag me into this shit.” He grumbles, scowling. “And you promised last time, you wouldn’t do this anymore. I’m not doing your work for you. I have enough on my plate.”

“Okay first of all, I’m not lazy. I was busy–”

“Ogling Garrison captains.”

“They’re pretty. And no, not the point, shut up.” You protested. “I was busy. And I didn’t come here so you could do it for me. I came here so you could go and talk to Erwin.”

Levi frowned, “Talk to him about what?”

“Tell him to give me one more day. Swear I’d work my ass off.”

“You said that last time too.” He pointed it out. “How angry is Erwin?”

You made a face. “Bad.”

“How bad?”

“He keeps glaring at me everytime I meet him. It’s the ‘if you don’t get it done this time, you’re gonna get in so much shit’ glare. It’s creeping me out.”

Levi scoffs, shaking his head. “Only you." He said. "Only you can possibly manage piss fucking Erwin off. The guy's a fucking monk, nothing affects him.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I had to guess, I’d say this isn’t the first time asking for an extension.”

“Err…” You ducked your face. “It was kinda supposed to be done 2 weeks ago.”

“2 weeks?” Levo looked at you incredulously. “No wonder he’s pissed. And you’re asking for more time?”

“One more day. Just one more day. Please Levi, he’ll listen to you.”

Levi stares at your pleading expression for a few seconds with narrowed eyes, considering. Thinking. Then he seemed to have made up his mind.

“No.”

“Wha—” You jerk upright. You really thought you’d convinced him.

“No. I’m not getting you out of the grave this time. Specially since you dug it yourself.” He returns his attention back to his work. “Good luck to you, but leave now. And learn a damn lesson.”

You stared at him, gaping. “Wow," You blinked you’re an asshole.”

“Congratulations for realizing that.”

You exhaled. Easy words won’t work, you knew. So, here comes plan A. Acting.

You pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that. I said what I said.”

You fluttered your lashes, all wide shiny eyes, about to cry.

“Get out before I start throwing shit at you.”

“Levi.” Plan B. Bribing.

“No.”

“Leeviii.”

“No.”

“Levi, aren’t you the sweetest, most dearest, my absolute favorite and delightful and super awesome with extra sugar on top bestiest best friend? Don’t be like that, c’mon.”

“Still no. And we’re not friends.”

“‘I’ll make you pie?” You offered.

“You can’t cook to save your life. No.”

"I'll give you hugs."

"I will slap you."

“Levi.” Plan C. Threatening.

He glares back at you.

"You do realize you could've used this time getting the report started instead of trying to convince me and actually might've manage to get it done?”

“I’ll read poetry to you.” You threatened.

Levi looks up, finally there’s a hint of alarm on his face. “No, you won’t.”

“I’ll make sure all your food touch.”

“Get out.”

“I’ll disorganize your bookshelf and fill it with those titan x scout love novels.”

He raised his middle finger at you.

“I will start telling you about all my exes.”

He cringed visibly.

Finally, you gave up. Dragging yourself off the couch, you slowly, pathetically, miserably made your way to the door. You knew that the odds were very low that Levi would actually help you this time, because he was right. You needed to learn a lesson. And it was your fault.

“Oi.”

Your hand was on the doorknob. “What?” You turned to look at him grumpily.

Levi was pinching the bridge of his nose, knitting his eyebrows together, irritated and annoyed. Like he was about to do something he regretted.

He let out a long exhale.

“Bring it here. I’ll help you.”

“What?” You asked, disbelief dripping from your tone. Were you dreaming?

“I’ll help you out. Just this time.” He grunts. “Don’t expect it again. And I’ll only guide you, you’re doing the most of it.”

Music to your ears.

“Really?”

“Go before I change my mind.” He huffed.

You broke into a wide grin, beaming up at him. “No wonder I love you.”

“The feeling is not mutual.”

“You’re the best,”

“Shut up.”

“The best. The most darling, the loveliest, the coolest, the–”

“10 seconds. I’m giving you 10 seconds.”

“Oh–” Your eyes widened. You learnt the hard way Levi usually means his time limits. “Okay, okay, wait here, wait. I’ll be right back. Just–”

And you were out the door,

“Fucking idiot.” He groaned to himself, as you yet again, slammed the door.

He wish he knew why he kept doing this to himself.

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beybaldes · 5 months

Text

Karma is the guy on AFC Richmond, coming straight home to me!

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent × gn!famous!reader (loosely inspired by Taylor swift and Travis Kelce)

summary: “kisses with a height difference” requested by two anons <33

an: okay you can actually thank the queen of my heart @onceuponaoneshotfanfic for my sudden (although potentially one night only we’ll see if I get my uni essay done lol) return because she reposted a celebrity prompt list and it got my mind whirring oops love you tally thank you for breaking my writers (and reading) block <33

“Hot.”

One simple word had sent your 68 million instagram followers into an absolute frenzy, and half of them, you were pretty sure, didn’t even know who Roy Kent was.

“‘So nice of them to put this football player on the map?’ They do know I was famous long before you ever were, right?” You only laughed as Roy grew more frustrated, allowing him to scroll through your Twitter account while you made the both of you some breakfast.

“Hey, maybe they have a point?” You tried to stifle your laughter, knowing Roy’s eyes would be sending daggers into your back, though only for a moment so he could continue winding himself up over the things people were tweeting. “I mean Richmond tickets have now sold out for the rest of the season.”

Roy knew you were only joking. Well, kind of. The two of you had been together for just over a year now, recently celebrating your one year anniversary, but besides the odd article about each of you potentially seeing someone, no one knew you were together - let alone that you even knew each other. Keeley had been blowing up Roy’s phone since she saw the comment demanding to meet you, her favourite superstar, and you’d woken up to 37 missed calls from your dad, furious you hadn’t told him you were dating Chelsea legend Roy Kent.

Above everything, you’re still in disbelief Roy tried to hard launch your relationship in the comment section if your most recent instagram post on a random Tuesday evening.

“Hmm, and I’m sure your next tour is going to sell out 10 times faster now the world knows you’re with the great Roy Kent.” Roy had given up on reading tweets speculating about what his comment meant and if the two of you were together, instead choosing to press his bare chest agains your back, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you finished up breakfast. Fortunately you knew, Roy Kent or not, your next tour was going to sellout. Though you’d rather have Roy be by your side for it.

“Maybe if I’m lucky.” Putting down your fork, you turned in Roy’s hold to face him, standing on the very tips of your toes to press a lovingly slow kiss to his lips. Since dating Roy, you were certain early mornings were for breakfasts that take too long to cook and kisses that end too soon for your liking. Roy’s grip on you tightened and he dipped his head slightly, making the kiss as easy on you as possible. When you began to pull away, he only ducked his head further to press his lips back against yours. “Mmm, although I’d already consider myself very lucky.”

“That you are.” Roy murmured against your lips, immediately pressing them flush against yours when he’d said his piece. “And so am I.”

an: okay short and sweet but I’m hoping to get back in to writing and get up to date with my requests now that I’m settled at uni and with my new job. Missed you guys hope you all are well <33

#beybaldes writes !!#beybaldes summer sleepover !!#ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent one shot #roy kent imagine #another banger another banger by onceuponaoneshotfanfic from tumblr.com

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cambion-companion · 1 year

Note

Hiiiii I am ABSOLUTELY obsessed with your Aemond fics and they are literally getting me through the day because oooofffff are they so wonderful to look forward to!!! I was watching this show the other day and one of the scenes just got me thinking of how interesting it would be to see Aemond in it. I just wanted to request something if that’s alright with you? Just reader admits to not being jealous or doing crazy things like threatening others for flirting with her because she knows Aemond’s crazy about her but Aemond thinks of it that she doesn’t want him the same amount as he does so decided to make her jealous by dancing and flirting all night with Alys/or someone other lady and instead of getting angry like Aemond wanted she gets incredibly sad and hurt by him. Plan backfires and Aemond realizes he fucked up. Even better if they’re married and he does this dumb shit because we love a groveling obsessed Aemond trying to make up to his wife for all the mistakes he makes

Thank youuuuuu and keep loving Aemond as much as you do because it is EVERYTHING

Again, I created a drabble hehehe, we love a quick read!

This definitely serves both angst and fluff so buckle UP and yes I am spoiling you guys...2 fics in one day!

Aemond x reader | angst to fluff | jealous Aemond | posessive Aemond

You smiled up through your eyelashes at the noble lord who’d grabbed your attention, insisting on engaging you in flirtatious banter. All around the two of you, couples danced with lively abandon to the swelling music. He was handsome enough, you thought tiredly, casting your eyes about the crowded room for your lover. Aemond was nowhere to be seen and with an imperceptible sigh you nodded and smiled at the overeager lordling.

“Excuse me, a moment, will you?” You had spotted your prince, his silver hair contrasting in the swirling color of dancing people. Touching the elbow of the rather crestfallen man, you departed, weaving your way over to Aemond.

He looked at you, rather aloof, as you approached. His violet eye displeased upon your face, the other eye covered by his preferred black leather patch.

“Having fun, Lady Y/N?” Aemond’s voice, though low, was cutting. “That Lannister cub seemed entranced by you.”

“Oh please, Aemond.” You pried his rigid fingers open from the fist he’d made, interlacing them with your own. “You know I am wholly yours, heart and body.”

“Hmm.” Came the terse reply.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

He didn’t answer, instead Aemond continued to stare across at the unsuspecting man who you’d been speaking to.

You rolled your eyes, releasing his hand abruptly. “Fine, be sour. I plan on enjoying my evening.”

With a toss of your heavy hair over a shoulder, you stomped away rather ungracefully, almost immediately running into another eager lord.

“May I have this dance?” The young man asked, silver eyes twinkling.

You glanced back at Aemond, his eye practically sparking fire with the heat of his gaze.

“Yes, I’d love to!” You graced the nobleman with a winning smile as he led you onto the dancefloor.

He was an excellent dancer, his hands firm upon your waist, his steps light and quick. Tommin Greyjoy, from the Iron Islands he introduced himself. Tommin quite enjoyed talking about only himself and before long you instinctively began to tune him out, beaming and nodding up at him each time he paused for breath.

You were quick to duck away once the song ended, making up a hurried excuse about needing water and scurried over to the drink table, grabbing a goblet from a passing servant. Glancing around, you saw Aemond almost immediately. He was chatting with a short curvy young woman, with red hair that tumbled in ringlets down her back. Her amble bosom was straining against the pale blue corset she wore, and the way she looked at the Targaryen prince as she spoke made your teeth grind.

Your brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as you watched Aemond lean closer to her, far too close for your liking. To your chagrin, another flower of a girl joined them, her delicate fingers coming to clasp Aemond about his wrist as she laughed at something he’d said. He made no move to remove her hand.

Your heart dropped. It became hard to swallow.

Aemond turned his head, feeling your attention upon him. His eye met yours, but you quickly averted your gaze to the ground. Your lips tugged down into a frown, the infuriating feeling of tears beginning to make your eyes burn.

Setting your goblet carefully back onto the table, you walked to the edge of the room where you stood observing the suddenly lurid scene of revelers. You hugged yourself, maintaining a neutral expression as yet another young man approached you asking for a dance.

“No, I’m afraid I feel rather unwell.” You declined, shaking your head.

“May I retrieve something for you?” He asked politely, looking mildly concerned at your wan face.

“That’s not necessary.”

He left you alone. You sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to the gods.

You spied Aemond once again with those same two women, he was paying them attention but kept glancing over at you in the corner. His expression had morphed from one of vindictive pleasure to barely concealed worry. You watched him excuse himself from the ladies, peeling one of their hands off his arm before striding purposefully toward you.

Aemond came up to you just as another lordling attempted to ask you for a dance. “No.” The prince growled, answering for you. “She is not interested.”

The man looked around for the intruder, opening his mouth to argue but blanched as he saw who it was and made haste to put distance between himself and the Targaryen.

“Thank you.” You said reluctantly, hugging yourself tighter.

“You are crying.” Aemond stated, peering into your face.

“I am not.”

“What is wrong, Y/N.”

“What do you think?” You cut your eyes over to where the women he’d been engaged with had their heads together, whispering. “They seemed rather enamored by you.”

Aemond sighed, tilting your chin up with his finger. “This conversation is seeming rather familiar.”

“It’s not at all the same, Aemond.”

“How is it not?”

You refused to look at him, though his grip on your jaw tightened. “I will always only be interested in you! You have my adoration in its entirety.”

“You think I feel differently.” It was not a question. Aemond tapped your cheek with his index finger, his thumb stroking your quivering lower lip. “Y/N, look at me.”

You raised your eyes to meet his. Aemond’s expression was soft, tender even, as he gave you a small smile.

“I thought you were clever, Y/N.”

Your protestations were silence with a muffled “I ammfph!” as Aemond brought his mouth down hard upon your own. His lips were hot against yours, you instinctively pressed flush against him as Aemond’s hands gripped low at your waist, his leg parting your thighs. You tangled your fingers in his thick hair, pulling him further into you. You felt a low wanting groan rumble in his chest, his breath filling your lungs as your tongues tangled together.

He broke away slightly placing a little peck to the tip of your nose. Your head was spinning, but you noticed many eyes upon the two of you and the whispering of voices buzzing around the grand room.

“Perhaps that will alleviate those doubts from that pretty head of yours.” Aemond ran the back of his finger down your cheek. He leant in to place another, more chaste, kiss to your parted lips.

“What doubts were those again?” You followed his movements with wide eyes as the prince took your hand in his, leading you back onto the dance floor.

He chuckled, leading you into the beginnings of a slow waltz. “Exactly.”

You glanced over his shoulder to the two women he’d been speaking to. Their cheeks were flushed; they watched the movements of your and Aemond’s dance with expressions of shocked anger mixed with envy. You hid your satisfied smirk in the crook of Aemond’s neck, breathing in his smell of smoke and leather.

“Something amuse you, my dear?” Aemond’s breath tickled your cheek. He grazed his lips against the shell of your ear before kissing your temple.

“I think we’ve upset a couple women over there.”

“As if they could hold a candle to you in any way, perzītsos.”

And he kissed you again, in front of the gawking crowd.

#aemond x reader #aemond fluff #aemond angst #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond x reader #prince aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond drabble #aemond oneshot #aemond one eye x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond targaryen

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frost-queen · 11 months

Text

Shattered dreams (Reader!sister & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07,@melsunshine, @goldenmoonbeam, @freyathehuntress

Summary: You are debuted (around Eloise's age) and have met someone in secret. Unaware to any of your brothers. One faithful day they find out that someone is trying to hurt you for 'not listening & not being a good wife to be'. Hearing of this your brothers boil with anger and come to your aid.

The weather was nice, a soft breeze cooling the warming spring season. You took a deep breath, taking it all in. Spring was your favorite season after all. Not too hot, not too cold. Flowers blooming, birds singing and ducks enjoying their ponds. From afar you could already see the lake. Boats set on them to take a tour. Colin noticed your eagerness tapping you on your hand. – “Would you like a tour around the lake sister?” – he asked with a smile. He knew just how much you’d like that.

You formed a smile, holding your hand on his arm. – “Perhaps later.” – you answered. Colin furrowed his brows a bit confused. Why you wanted to wait stunned him. To be fair you wanted to take a tour on the boats, just with that someone special. With Hubert so to speak. You met him a few balls ago. None of your relatives aware of the meeting.

You were absolutely smitten with him. He’d be the one to save you. To care and comfort himself over you till he drew his last breath. You didn’t know why you kept it a secret. Perhaps because the encounter was so secretive and unproper by any standards set up by the ton you perhaps feared it.

Looking around you wondered where he is. Eyes slowly widening when your gaze met with his from afar. Your heart leaped and fluttered. He slightly motioned with his head for you to come and see him. You couldn’t hide the giddy smile on your lips. Slowly removing your arm from around your brother Colin’s. Colin frowned. – “I must ask mama something.”- you lied before he could question your intentions.

He nodded, turning his posture to Benedict and Eloise who were in a deep conversation. Colin over-heard their conversation, sighing loud with an eye roll. They were so headstrong in bickering about nonsense. You made your way over the green fields, keeping a close eye on your siblings behind you. You didn’t want any of them to see where you were heading. Taking several detours between small gatherings, you hoped to blend in and possible disappear from their eye.

The secrecy send a thrill through your body. Excitement bubbling up in your stomach. You gasped, turning sharply around with your back to them after spotting mama with Anthony. They were chatting with Miss Edwina and Lady Danbury. Anthony looking as if he’d rather chew off his own foot then be present any longer. It made you chuckle a bit at the idea.

You moved further, closer to the lake with your back kept towards them. Dipping through a gathering you hoped to blend in. Some ladies gave you a nasty look for suddenly joining in as if you were to eavesdrop or steal their possible suitor from them. You shook your head at them, letting them know that were not your intentions. You moved on nearing the lake. By the lake you looked confused around. Was he not here? Hearing loud a psst made you jump out of your skin. By your left, lurking behind a tree he stood.

You glanced barely over your shoulder before heading over to him. Hubert took you by your hand, pulling you closer to him. – “Miss Y/n.” – he said kissing your hand. You smiled lovestruck and flattered by the gesture. – “I have counted the days till I’d meet you again.” – he whispered. His compliment warmed your heart if he would’ve asked for your hand you would’ve accepted it within a heartbeat. You looked behind you to the lake. – “Shall… shall we go for a tour?” – you asked eager to go round the lake.

Hubert smiled leaving a kiss higher up your arm. You smiled a bit uneasy hoping no one had seen it as it was against standards. – “As the lady pleases.” – Hubert spoke. He offered you his arm as you took it. Hubert and you came in sight, making your way over to the lake. You kept your head down not wanting any of your siblings to recognize you.

You got on the platform. A boat waiting for you to get on. Hubert got in first. You smiled waiting for him to take your hand and help you down when he didn’t. He just sat himself down staring at the other side of the lake. You smiled sheepishly, lifting a bit of your skirt up. Foot dangling in the air, finding balance to set it down. The boat wobbled a bit when your foot touched the boat. – “Hurry up will you.” – Hubert said with a hastened wave. His comment made you stare stunned at him for a brief second.

Without thinking much further about it, you got onto the boat. Hubert took the oars, rowing the boat away. You took a deep breath, enjoying the ride. He rowed the boat further away from the mainland and out of sight. – “Is it not a lovely day My lord?” – you asked to stir up a conversation. His face made a ‘meh’ expression making you regret your question. – “My lord is everything…” – you started wanting to ask about his sudden mood when he stopped rowing. You blinked perplex when he threw the oars to you.

You caught them, staring confused at them. – “My lord… I do not understand…” – you said, looking back up to him. – “I am tired!” – he hissed out. – “Why don’t you row!” – he insisted upon. Your eyes widened at his request. – “Row… my lord?” – you repeated wanting to be sure you understood. – “Yes!” – he called out bothered. – “I spoke clear didn’t I or is your head filled with novelty nonsense?” – he said loudly startling you.

You quickly shook your head. – “Then start rowing.” – he insisted rubbing his shoulder as if it was sore. You nodded obedient with a nervous swallow. You set the oars in the water, giving it a turn. One oar plopped up from the water, splashing the boat a bit. It made you lose your balance a bit, nearly falling forwards. Hubert caught some water, wiping his vest with disgust. – “Apologies My lord.” – you quickly said. – “I shall do my best.” – you set the oar right, giving it another go. After a few failed attempts you found a steady pace to row the boat.

It didn’t took you long to start huffing and puffing at the weight you needed to row. His and yours. To be honest you weren’t that strong compared to Hubert. – “Can you not go a bit faster?” – he spoke with annoyance. You huffed loud, muscles soring up. – “Yes my lord.” – you obliged like a good girl. You started rowing faster and harder, feeling it immediately in your muscles. A pair in another boat raised their eyebrows at you.

Gritting your teeth you pushed through to row the boat around. – “My lord are … you enjoying … the view?” – you asked out of breath. Cheeks flashing with heat from the work-out. He remained silent, haunting the boat ride with it. Clenching your jaw, you felt yourself weaken with rows. Wondering why he was making you do this labor? You felt the wood roughen your palms.

Biting your lip, you tried to keep in any tears. It was so obvious to anyone he was making you do the labor he should be doing. It didn’t even seem to care him. Suddenly the idea of Hubert was very different. From someone you thought would be yours truly, he sure made you do work hard for it. You were slowing down, unable to keep up with it. Your muscles were so sore it used up a lot of effort to even move them. – “Why are you slowing down? Keep it up girl!” – he made clear.

His words stinging like a sharp knife in your heart. Looking up, you blinked rapidly to stop yourself from crying. – “Yes my lord.” – you replied softly. You groaned quietly rowing harder. Putting more work to your labor. Out of breath, you needed to use both hands to push one oar to make the turn. Grabbing the other one once more, you rowed back. – “My lord… are… are you rested well enough?” – you asked hinting to him to take over. He shook his head. Barely lifting a finger in assisting you. Your shoulders slouched with sadness.

Hardening your expression there even boiled some anger towards him. If this was how married life with him would be, you didn’t want it. Him making you do all the work while he enjoys your torture. You kept rowing as the mainland got in view. The colorful tents overtowering the ton. Hearing their laugher carry over with the wind it made you even angrier.

On the mainland looked Anthony briefly up, eyelashes fluttering to be certain it was you he saw on the lake. His eye narrowed trying to focus on you. – “Mama.” – Anthony said without adverting his eyes from you. Violet stopped talking to Lady Danbury, acknowledging her son. – “Is that Y/n on the lake?” – he wondered wanting to be certain. Violet turned her head. – “Why yes she is.” – she answered with smile. – “With a lord.” – she expressed giddy. Anthony’s eyes widened Violet tapped him on the chest.

“Do you know the lord? What is his name?” – she wanted to know. – “I don’t know.” – Anthony replied slightly worried. His eyes widened even more silencing his mother from asking any more questions, seeing you row. His expression hardened with anger. – “He’s making her row!” – he blurted out angered. He looked back, putting his fingers in his mouth to whistle loud. Colin and Benedict looked his way. Anthony called them over with one firm motion of his head. Colin and Benedict didn’t waste another second, hurrying over to his side.

He pointed at you on the lake. – “That little liar.” – Colin cursed out, clenching his hand. Anthony looked confused with a sharp edge to it at him. – “She told me she needed to ask mama a question.” – Colin filled in. – “Clearly she didn’t.” – Anthony bit back bothered. – “Why is she rowing?” – Benedict questioned. – “Shouldn’t he be rowing? Why is he making her do the labor?” – it didn’t sit right with him. – “I’m going to end this.” – Anthony said heading towards the lake. Benedict and Colin hurrying behind him.

On the lake Hubert put you to a stop. You exhaled loud and exhausted. Perhaps a bit too loud. You offered him the oars, smiling at his gratitude of taking over your task. You furrowed your brows when he pushed the oar down. He came closer making you wary. – “What are you acting upon my lord?” – you wondered. He forced himself onto you, making you push him off. It clearly didn’t set with him. – “Do you not love me?” – he asked or rather demanded.

His question baffled you. – “If you want to become a good wife you’ll listen to me!” – he said coming closer again. – “No!” – you called out, battling him away as he tried to force a kiss on you once more. – “I am just showing you my love!” – he yelled getting angry. – “It isn’t love if you force me!” – you yelled back kicking him against the knee. He groaned in pain, holding his knee.

You crawled further up the boat, wondering how you’d get out of this situation. Heck you’d jump out of this boat if it meant escaping him. Hubert rose standing tall. He grabbed you by your arm, yanking on it. – “ A good wife does as she is told.” – he rose his hand ready to strike you.

Anthony was boiling with rage already undoing one shoe of his to jump in the water. Benedict stopped a pair from getting in a boat so they could get in. Colin calling out your name from afar. You gasped seeing his hand go down ready to hurt you. Looking away, you kicked your foot up out of instinct. You felt his chest under your shoe followed by a splash. Opening your eyes, you stared at an empty boat. You crawled over to the other side, looking over the edge. Hubert resurfacing as he spewed out some water. – “Good thing we aren’t married yet!” – you shouted at him.

You grabbed the oars, finding the last bit of strength of yours to row back to shore. Out of breath you reached the platform. Anthony and Benedict hoisted you up from the boat, wrapping their arms around you. – “Where is he? Who is he?” – Benedict called out angered. You cried against your brothers chest. – “I am sorry… I thought he was the one, but he is not. He was so commanding all of the sudden. Making me row, the silence, the insults…” – you cried out.

Anthony hugged you tighter. Hubert swam to the platform as Colin stepped away to let him get up on it. – “Look what you did!” – he shouted with a stern finger at you. Benedict puffed his chest up. He pushed Hubert hard, sending him back into the water. – “If I see you near my sister one more time I’ll make you scream for mercy!” – Benedict threatened.

Anthony handed you over to Colin who comforted you. Hubert came climbing up the platform once more, chest laying on the edge ready to push himself up. Anthony lowered himself smiling angrily. He pushed Hubert back by his forehead, sending him back down.

“You are lucky there are witnesses or I wouldn’t be so well-mannered!” – Anthony called out. Hubert staid in the water afraid to get out and be plunged back by any of your brothers. Your brothers and you left returning to mama. – “Thank you.” – you told them. – “Family is always a priority. First and upmost.” – Anthony answered.

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

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cranberrymoons · 4 months

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have a happy holiday

prompt: modern au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 577 rated: t

welcome to Day 16 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The airport’s a complete mess.

He knew it would be. It’s three days before Christmas; obviously it’s going to be a mess, but still, he’d hoped that if they beat traffic getting here, then they’d have time to actually get to their gate without running and then he wouldn’t be so wound up and stressed out before even stepping on the plane and –

Anyway.

“It’s going to be fine,” Eddie says easily, smoothing a hand over Steve’s back as they shuffle forward six inches in the security line before coming to a stop. Again. For the tenth time. “We have plenty of time.”

“I know,” Steve says, even though he doesn’t know, because they don’t. He glances down at his phone to watch the minutes turn over. “It’s just – my dad…”

“Is an asshole,” Eddie says. He smiles. “You’ve mentioned. A dozen times.”

Steve looks at him out of the corner of his eye, then shoves his phone back in his pocket. He sighs.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just – if we miss our flight, it’s going to become my fault somehow, and I just really don’t want to deal with that at Christmas? I just want – us.” Eddie wraps a hand around his wrist and tugs him closer, and Steve lets out a sigh, shoulders coming away from his ears. “I just want it to be us.”

“You know, we don’t have to go,” Eddie says as the line shuffles forward again. “Really, if you want, we can just… head home. Do Christmas ourselves.”

Steve studies his face for a moment, a buzz starting up in his chest. Then he shakes his head, shutting the feeling down before it can get too loud.

“We have tickets. We can’t just –” He lets out a sigh, tugging on the strap of his bag. “We paid for them.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He widens his eyes. “We already paid for them. That doesn’t mean we have to actually use them.” He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not like they can double charge us for not getting on the plane. We didn’t even check any bags.”

Steve feels a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. “But my dad –”

“Is an asshole,” Eddie says again. “So who cares what he thinks? We’ll just say we caught COVID or something.” He makes an exaggeratedly sad face. “So sorry to cancel on such short notice, but what can you do? It’s responsible for us to stay home, really.”

Steve laughs, pulling his bag higher up on his shoulder. “What would we do instead?”

“It’s Christmas in New York. We can do whatever we want,” Eddie says. “Coffee in pajamas, walk in the park. I’ll buy you one of those big ridiculous hot chocolate milkshakes. Whatever you want.”

“Better than the alternative,” Steve says. He narrows his eyes. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Serious about the fact that I’d rather spend Christmas fucking my boyfriend on the couch than at a dinner party with the Republican Senator from Indiana? Obviously.”

Steve’s heart does a somersault, and his smile widens. He takes a breath and glances at the line divider to their right, blocking them off from the rest of the airport. They could duck out of line right now and just –

“Okay,” Steve says before he can second-guess himself.

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Okay?”

Steve nods, letting out a giddy little laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 2 months

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Coming To An Understanding #3

So my idea is to have 10 of these little one shots - most of which I have at least sketched out and partially written so hopefully there won't be too big a gap between. Some are shorter than others, but (at least in my head) they all fit in the same verse and happen in order?

~*~

Melissa tries to distract herself at home that night. She’s cooked, she’s cleaned and now she’s trying to find something on the tv to hold her attention. Nothing does, however. All she keeps thinking about is your face as you’d left school that day, telling her you were just gonna head home that night.

She wants to respect your wishes if you want a little space. You have been practically joined at the hip, so it makes sense, she thinks. That doesn’t stop her worrying, however. You might have put on a brave face and slapped on a smile, but Melissa knows you well enough to know when you’re faking.

Turning off the tv, she throws a few things in a bag and grabs not only her own key, but the spare you gave her to your apartment. She doesn’t let herself hesitate when she pulls up outside your building, slamming her truck door closed decisively. If she gives herself time to think, she’ll talk herself out of this.

She just needs to see you and reassure herself that you’re okay. If she doesn’t all she’s going to do is worry. Slipping her key into the lock, she quietly opens the door, poking her head around the doorframe. “Hey, it’s just me!” she calls out.

You jump at the sound of the door opening, sitting up and looking over the back of the sofa to see Melissa’s smiling face. “Sorry, you should have messaged. I’d have…” you trail off, not quite sure what you’d have done. You try to untangle yourself from the blankets which you have buried yourself in.

“What are you sorry for?” she asks. She leans over the back of the sofa, stopping your fidgeting. “Stop. I didn’t come here to make you get up. I came because you looked sad when you left today and I was worried.”

You look up at her, seeing the concern clearly painted across her features. You sigh, dropping your gaze to your joint hands. “It’s just my time of the month,” you tell her. “I didn’t sleep very well and was just trying to make it through the day, but by the bell I was wiped.”

She lets go of your hands and makes her way around the sofa, coming to sit next to you. “You know you can tell me things like that, don’t ya? I mean, I get it.”

You duck your head, not looking at her. “I didn’t want to ruin your night,” you mumble. “I’m not exactly great company right now.”

“You know you don’t have to be in a good mood to spend time with me, right?” she asks her hand stroking over your thigh where it rests on the blankets.

Raising your head, you meet her eyes, your cheeks flushed. She’s being so nice and all you want to do is cry. “I just…” You shake your head. “You don’t deserve to have to put up with this after work.”

“Hey!” she’s quick to snap. “I’m not putting up with anything. I’m here because I want to be. I’m the one who came over, remember?” she says, a soft smile on her face. “But I can go, if you’d rather?”

You hesitate, and you hate yourself for it. You want her to stay but you feel selfish for wanting it when you just want to curl up with her and mope about the fact that your painkillers aren’t even touching the pain.

She sees your hesitation, and rather than letting her fears get the best of her, that she’s too much, that you just want some time alone, she tries to read your expression. “Let me try that again. Can I stay? As long as it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable?”

At this, you nod.

“You had anything to eat?”

This time, you shake your head. You’d had a plain cracker when you took your painkillers, but beyond that the thought of standing long enough to make anything had just been too much.

“M’kay, then how about I make something to eat?”

You’re about to protest that she doesn’t have to, but you find yourself silenced by a single finger being pressed to your lips.

“I want a nod for yes, a shake for no,” she tells you. “Are you hungry?”

The rumble of your stomach is all the answer she needs and you blush scarlet at your traitorous body. She removes her finger from your lips, pressing a kiss to them instead before standing and heading to your small kitchen. Peeking over the back of the sofa, you watch as she moves around the space, inspecting the contents of your fridge and cupboards.

“Mac and cheese or grilled cheese?”

You take this as a silent comment on the amount of cheese currently in your fridge but don’t make mention of it. “Mac and cheese?” you reply hesitantly.

She smiles at you. “You know there’s not a right or wrong answer? You want a mac and cheese, you get a mac and cheese.”

Of course, being Melissa, the macaroni cheese is more than just some cheese and pasta. It tastes divine and you all but inhale it. She doesn’t mention the speed at which you consume it, merely taking your plate and waving off your thanks. She returns a few moments later with a glass of water and your painkillers.

She leaves you to it as you take them only to return a few minutes later, your heat pack in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, wrapped in a dishtowel. “Shimmy forward,” she instructs you.

You frown, not quite sure what her plan is, but do as she asks anyway. She hands you the ice cream and moves until she can slide in behind you. Guiding you back to rest against her, she holds your heat pack in place with one hand before reaching around you and snagging one of the spoons from the open tub of ice cream you hold.

“Better?”

“I don’t deserve you,” you tell her, twisting to press a kiss to her lips.

She shakes her head. “None of that. I told you, I’m here because I want to be. Now, you wanna watch a movie or keep going with that series we started?”

You’re not sure when you nodded off, but when you wake up with your head pillowed on Melissa’s chest, you’re immediately embarrassed. She made the effort to come over and spend time with you and all you could do was eat the food she made and fall asleep?

“Don’t you dare say sorry,” she tells you, her face serious. “I don’t want or need you to say sorry. I don’t just wanna spent time with you for the fun stuff. I want you to be comfortable with me like this too.”

You sniffle, hating how emotional you get during your period. “Thank you. I just didn’t want to be selfish and ruin your night too.”

Her face softens. “My night isn’t ruined if it’s spent with you. But if I am spending the night we’re going to have to move this to a bed or my back isn’t going to forgive me.”

You close your eyes as she presses a kiss to the side of your head, lettings her words sink in. You only open them again when she squeezes you gently where her arms are looped around your waist.

“Come on, you go get comfy and I’ll tidy up here and warm up your heat pack.”

~ Next

#melissa x reader #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary

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meggletoomanyfandoms · 2 months

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Alastor's Shadow

(Not my gif!)

Alastor x Fem!Reader

18+ ONLY!!

Summary- You decided to spend time with the King of Hell but quickly find out that a certain someone is not too happy about that..

Word Count- 2,147

TW- NSFW, Some dubcon, Possessive Alastor, a bit of blood, choking, tentacles, claws, swearing

AN- I really enjoyed writing this one! Alastor can be so unpredictable so I really do enjoy writing for him! Also my requests are open!

“So Lucifer,” you questioned, “Why did you make all of those rubber ducks?” You sat at the bar in the hotel beside Hell’s King. He took a sip of the drink that Husk had poured for him and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“Maybe it fills a void of some kind?” he said, “Honestly, making them just makes me happy I suppose.” You giggled at his response, noticing how his face started to slightly light up at the talk about the ducks.

“I think that’s cute,” you said, “it’s nice to have something you enjoy doing! And if making rubber duckies makes you happy, then I think you should keep doing it!” Lucifer turned his head to look at you, a smile forming on his face.

“Thank you, (y/n),” he said to you, turning his attention to the empty glass that sat in front of him and you noticed a small blush start to appear on his face, “Perhaps sometime you and I could create one together.”

“A duck?” you said with another small giggle, “I would like that.. You know, I do have some ideas….”

“Really?” Lucifer’s face once again lit up and he hopped down from his stool, “Tomorrow then?” You got down from your stool as well and nodded your head.

“Sure! I would love that!” you agreed. He then took your hand gently in his and kissed the top of it.

“It’s a date then,” he said, just before he vanished. Behind the bar, you heard Husk let out a small sigh. Turning your attention to him, you spoke.

“Something the matter?”

“You know he’s not going to be happy about this,” he said, picking up what was Lucifer's glass and beginning to wipe it clean.

“Who?” it took you a moment to realize just who it was he was talking about but once you did, you rolled your eyes.

“He doesn’t care about me or what I do,” you said to him, beginning to make your way to the stairs that led up to your room, “And besides that, he doesn’t own me.” Husk didn’t say anything else as you walked up the stairs. You knew exactly who it was that he was talking about but you doubted that certain someone cared at all about what you did or didn’t do. You knew that all he cared about was himself and although it might be true that you had considered making a deal with that demon in the past, that was behind you.

Actually, he was behind you.

“Good evening, my dear.” Alastor’s voice startled you just as you were getting ready to open the door to your room, causing you to jump.

“Why do you feel the need to sneak up behind me and scare me every time you have something to say?” you asked, clearly annoyed but still making your way inside of your room where he followed behind you. When you turned to face him, he was now leaning in the doorway, resting his hands on top of his staff.

“It was never my intention to frighten you,” he said with a large grin, “I merely wanted to see what you were up to on this fine evening.”

“I’m getting ready to go to bed, Alastor,” you said to him, taking your shoes off and putting them against the wall and then sitting down on your bed, “Can you just go?”

“I could go,” he said, shutting the door behind him, “Oh, but I’d much rather stay and chat.” You felt your heart begin to pick up speed but you ignored it.

“I’m not in the mood to chat,” you said, laying back on your pillow,” Whatever it is you want to talk about, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

The next thing you knew, Alastor materialized on top of you so that he was now straddling your waist.

“What the fuck, Alastor-!” you began to say but were immediately cut off when he put his hand over your mouth.

“Shush now dear,” he said, “I’m here to talk about why you think you can just go off and spend time with Lucifer when you know you belong to me. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” You narrowed your gaze at the man that was hovering above you. You noticed how his ears slightly twitched- he was agitated. You simply rolled your eyes at him, refusing to meet his gaze. He chuckled darkly.

“I don’t think you understand,” he said, a dark tentacle taking the place of his hand over your mouth. He ran his fingers across your throat, “You see, I can look over most things. I can let you be whoever you want, act however you want. But this? This is where my patience wears thin.” His hand was now wrapped around your throat and you could feel his claws, sharp against your smooth skin. You murmured something, but since the tentacle was still over your mouth, your words couldn’t be spoken. He grinned wickedly at you and within a moment the tentacle had dissipated.

“I never made a deal with you, Alastor! You don’t own me!” you screamed at him, now wiggling under his weight and trying to get free, “Now get the hell off of me!” He only laughed, fingers still around your throat and although his claws hadn’t dug far into your skin yet, blood was beginning to show underneath the sharp points.

“You think I care about deals? Oh my dear, you are sadly mistaken,” he said, leaning down next to your ear before speaking the next part, “You became mine the moment I became the one who you would fantasize about while touching yourself. You became mine the moment you screamed my name when you reached your climax.”

Your eyes widened, heart racing. How did he know about that? You were sure that the only time that ever happened was when you were in your room alone and everyone else was asleep. Was he watching you?

“You were watching me?” you asked as he sat back up, “You fucking creep! I didn’t know I had to worry about being spied on in my own room!” His grin widened, hand around your throat still unmoving but now getting tighter.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I was there,” he said, “I know you wanted me to fuck you all those times you shouted my name. I bet you’re turned on right now too. Shall we check?”

“Don’t you fucking dare-” you said, but the words left your lips when you felt a tentacle slightly touch you in between your legs.

“Mmm, wet as can be, darling,” he said, “Soaking through your jeans..”

“Alastor I am going to fucking scream if you don’t-”

“Oh yes, you will be screaming, my doe” he said, slowly using his free hand to undo the button on your jeans, “You will scream my name so loud that even Lucifer will hear, and he’ll know that you’re mine and to stay the fuck away from you. Now then, let’s get these off..”

He used both hands to take your jeans off and you squirm underneath him. You weren’t exactly trying to fight him off at this point, if you were honest. You were turned on as fuck- when was the last time anyone treated you this way? Probably never; the guys you dated and fucked while you still lived definitely didn’t. And well, you'd never exactly fucked someone since you had died and arrived in hell either. And it was certainly true that there were many times you touched yourself to the thoughts of Alastor touching you and using you, and maybe, just maybe, you were aware that he was in the room all those times you screamed his name.. Though, you’d never admit it out loud.

“Oh my, look at you being so obedient and not fighting back any longer,” he said, “Ah, let’s do this much quicker then.” And in a split second after he spoke those words, your clothes all disappeared and you were completely naked. You went to cover yourself when two of his tentacles pinned your arms to the bed.

“Ah, ah, ah, my doe,” he said, “There will be none of that here. I am going to take my fill and you absolutely will not be hiding yourself from me..” He drug a single claw down your stomach, leaving a long red mark in its path, “Not that I haven’t already seen you like this before.. But I must say, there is something about actually getting to touch you like this that absolutely thrills me to my core.”

Your body was reacting to his touches; chills went up your spine as he toyed with you. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn’t mind being teased. In all honesty, you wanted more.

“A-Alastor,” you choked out, “Please, fuck me.”

“Fuck you?” he questioned,” Oh no my dear, you see, this is a punishment for thinking you could go out there and flirt with who you pleased. And it’s going to be so much worse since that someone was Lucifer. You will not be having my cock tonight.”

Punishment? And here you thought he was going to absolutely ravish you. You wanted his cock more than anything right now; your soaking wetness was all the evidence needed to know that. You watched as Alastor got off of the bed, and stood at the foot of the bed so he could get the perfect view of you.

“Uhm, if youre not going to fuck me then can I at least have my clothes back?” you felt the stickiness of the blood on your neck from where his claws had dug into your skin just moments before and shivered. Alastor grinned from ear to ear and in a moment's notice, your room fell darker somehow and that was when you saw it- his shadow appeared on the wall.

“My doe, you are going to fucked senseless,” he said, “Although I must warn you, shadow it may be, you’re still going to be filled to the brim. And when you’re crying out and begging it to stop, I’m going to make sure it fucks you again and again until all you think about is how you’re not good enough to have my cock but instead, my shadows.” He materialized a chair at the foot of your bed where he stood and sat down, “I do so enjoy a good show.”

You looked around the walls and watched as his shadow danced on them, just before stopping between your legs. Your heart was racing and you felt your cunt dripping; what was it going to feel like being fucked by a shadow? Or would it feel like anything? Would it hurt? Or not be good enough-

Your thoughts were interrupted immediately when it rammed into you hard and fast and without warning. You could feel the warmth of the shadows cock inside of you, oddly enough it did feel just like well, a regular dick. But also so much more and not enough at the same time. It was rough and unfeeling but still, you moaned.

Alastor watched as his shadow took you. Truly enjoying the show that you were putting on for him. He watched your movements, how you took your breaths and listened to how you called his name as you climaxed again and again. And while yes, he was indeed turned on by the sight of you, he wouldn’t dare fuck you with his own cock until you learned a lesson. That, deal or no deal, you absolutely belonged to him.

Climax after climax, your head was starting to feel foggy and you didn’t know how much more your body could take. So much pleasure ran through you and there still, at the foot of your bed, Alastor sat watching you. And not once did he stop. Until now, when he could see you were tapping out and you had had enough. He stood up and his shadow disappeared, the light slightly returning to your room and his chair disappearing.

“Have you had enough, my doe?” he questioned, now standing next to the bed where you were laying. Exhausted. You weren’t sure you’d ever climaxed so much and so hard in your life- how many hours had passed since this started? How long were you being fucked? Still, your mind was cloudy. Alastor put his hand on your head and instantly, PJ’s formed on your body as he stroked your hair.

“Sleep now, my doe,” he said, “But remember this.. Though I might not own your soul, your body is mine. Remember that mine is the name you screamed while being fucked senselessly, and I was the one you wanted so badly to take you..”

And with that, you watched as he disappeared.

#Alastor x reader #Alastor Imagine #Alastor smut #Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Alastor #oneshot #imagine

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peterhollandkait · 1 year

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Try to Love Me, Honey Please

A/N: hello!! This is the first time I’m posting any fics on this account, so I’m pretty nervy 😵‍💫 but!!! I wrote this for the dear @tightjeansjavi and I decided I wanted to share it with the world. Likes and comments are appreciated 🥹🥹

Summary: Joel opens up to you about his pain after you’re injured.

Warnings: mentions of blood, sad!joel, mentions of death, angst, soft!joel

—————————-

The only sound heard was the crackle of the fire as Joel rewrapped the cut on your arm where you’d run into a glass door earlier in the day.

You hadn’t even realized you were bleeding until you reached for Ellie and found your hand covered in red. Joel had freaked, immediately rolling your soaked sleeve to reveal the moderately deep cut in your forearm. He sat you down and wrapped your arm as best as he could under the circumstances before the three of you continued forward to find shelter for the night.

Now, you sat beside the fire, watching joel as he cared for you. He hadn’t spoken a word since Ellie crawled into her sleeping bag and said goodnight, but you knew his mind was turning.

“Joel,” you started carefully.

He shook his head slightly. “Don’t.”

“Can’t help it. You’re thinking too loudly.” He chuckled dryly, which made you smile. “This wasn’t your fault y’know.”

“I should’ve clocked the clickers; you wouldn’t be hurt if I had.” He pulled away from you once the bandage was set, turning to face the fire.

“Hey,” you reached forward, resting your good arm on his shoulder. He didn’t shrug you off, a good sign. “I‘m okay. I’m not bit, it’s just a little cut.” When he didn’t respond, you leaned forward for his hand. “Joel, I’m right here. I’m okay.”

You knelt down beside him, searching his face for any signs of relief. You watched as he looked down at your entwined hands and squeezed yours gently.

“I’m not…good at this.” He paused, thinking. “I haven’t been good at this in a very long time.”

You nodded, brushing your lips against the back of his hand. “S’okay. I’m not expecting anything from you. Can I tell you something?”

“‘Course,” he offered.

“I was scared shitless back there. I still am. But you know what makes it better? You do. You protected me and Ellie, just like you do every god damn day. You can sit here and grumble about would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, but it doesn’t matter. You did it; you saved us. You’re the best fucking thing that has happened to me since this shit started twenty years ago.”

Joel ducked his head, attempting to hide his tears from you, but it was no use. You slid yourself into his lap, gently wiping away his tears with your thumbs.

“I-I’m so afraid of losing you, of losing Ellie,” he whispered, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear it over the sound of the fire. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s all I see. It…it changes every night too. Sometimes it’s infected, sometimes it’s a hunter.” He takes a deep breath, pausing. “O-one time it was me; I-I was the one who killed you. O-or I’m walking Ellie right into her death. I can’t escape it.”

You pulled his head against your chest when he finished, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I could take the dreams away. I’d sacrifice myself if I could.”

Joel sat up, eyes stern as he placed his hands on your shoulder, grip hard. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“It’s true. I’d sacrifice myself to take your pain away, Joel. Without a second thought.”

He shook his head, grip on you still tight. “I’d rather face every demon in my dreams if it meant I got to wake up to you every morning.”

You kissed him then, soft and languid. Joel kissed you back, moving his arms around your waist to hold you closer. Your hands gripped the collar of his jacket, tugging him against you.

When you finally pulled away, Joel followed your lips, stealing another kiss. “Will you come to bed with me,” he whispered.

“All you had to do was ask,” you smiled sweetly, removing yourself from his lap and standing. Joel didn’t let go of you as he stood and let you toward his sleeping bag a few feet away. You let him climb in first before you followed, resting your head on his chest.

Once you zipped the bag shut, Joel turned on his side, back facing you. In response, you wrapped your arm around his middle, placing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. Joel hummed in response, which made you smile.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you whispered.

“Night,” he mumbled, sleep already calling to him.

#Joel miller #Joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #tlou #the last of us

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