#and to know this ache of her follows him and he can never be free of her

[jopzer]

merlin writers made an absolute litany of insane crazy /neg decisions over the course of the television program but. making merlin's first love the lady of the lake at the start of the show and then making him give the love of his life to her at the end. fucken based. absolutely red pilled.

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #freya merlin #merlin/freya #arthur pendragon #like i fundamentally disagree with like half the changes they made to some of the legends in this show #but holy SHIT. this one. absolute fucking chad move. #giving the lady of the lake this connection to the audience and this connection to merlin #and in turn this connection to arthur! #and the audience is at least passingly familiar with the last of the lake and her habit of handing out swords #but to tie her so fundamentally to merlin #and to know this ache of her follows him and he can never be free of her #and he can never be free of arthur #he carrie's them with him even when the lake has dried and he's visiting a grass field every day #he could only meet them at the muddy bank and even that is eventually taken from him #jiminy h christmas.

[studioghibelli]

always yours- a joel miller x reader

summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.

warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni

The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.

Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.

“What’re you up to back there?”

“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”

A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.

“Want to hear some more?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”

Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”

“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”

Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.

“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”

“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”

Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.

Joel sucked in a thick breath.

You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.

He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?

“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”

“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”

“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”

It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.

“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Heyyyy!”

Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”

“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”

Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.

In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.

He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.

Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”

“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”

“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”

“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”

Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:

“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”

“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”

“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”

Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”

Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”

“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”

“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”

“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”

Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”

Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?

How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?

“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.

“Um…” He scratched at his chin.

“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”

Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.

He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.

“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”

“Animal Planet?”

And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”

“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”

“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.

A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.

Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.

“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”

“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”

“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”

“I said one question a day.”

“But-”

“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”

“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”

Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.

Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.

Angry, regretful, bitter tears.

“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”

“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”

“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”

“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.

“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”

Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”

That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.

Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.

“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.

“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”

“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”

“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.

“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”

“Go to sleep, Ellie.”

Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.

In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?

But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.

Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.

Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.

“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”

Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,

Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,

And I am once again with you, when our love was new.

“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.

He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”

“Dance with me.”

“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”

Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.

“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”

He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,

Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,

You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain…

“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.

His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”

“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.

Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.

Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.

He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.

“Joel…” You whispered softly.

He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do you not like me?”

“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.

“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.

In my heart, it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love’s refrain.

Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.

“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.

“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”

“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.

“How long was I out for?”

Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”

“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”

Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.

“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”

An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.

“What is that?” She asked.

“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.

“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”

“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”

“Who’s it by?”

“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.

“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”

“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.

“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.

But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.

“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”

Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.

“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.

“‘Bout three years before I met you.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.

“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.

Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.

Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.

“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.

“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.

You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.

Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”

When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.

When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.

As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.

It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.

The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.

Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.

• • •

It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.

Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.

Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.

Your thoughts were full of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.

Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.

After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.

By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.

“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.

The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.

The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.

“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.

Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.

You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.

You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.

No, by someone.

Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.

A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.

Joel.

Joel. Joel.

The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.

Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.

You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.

Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.

Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.

Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.

“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.

“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”

“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”

“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.

His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.

He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.

You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”

And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.

You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.

You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.

That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?

But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.

“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.

“Yes?”

“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”

Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.

The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.

He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.

He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.

You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.

“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.

When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.

You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.

He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.

You had always liked your men older, anyways.

Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.

“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.

“For you.” You whispered with finality.

He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.

“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”

You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.

And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.

You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.

“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.

“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”

Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.

Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”

“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.

Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.

“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.

“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.

“We’ll see about that.”

Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.

“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.

Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.

You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.

You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.

“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”

Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.

“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.

“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”

“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.

“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.

“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.

You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”

Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.

You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.

“Christ, Joel.”

He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.

“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:

With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.

“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.

You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.

“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”

You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.

He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.

You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.

“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.

“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”

That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.

You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.

“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.

Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.

When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.

You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.

His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.

“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”

“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.

“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.

“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.

You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”

Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”

A moment of silence fell over your bodies.

“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”

“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”

“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel the last of us #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou #joel tlou

[luveline]

ooo i love that you’re giving me free reign over ideas for pregnant bombshell and spencer.. maybe something really angsty where reader’s hormones are getting the best of her and she’s just really pissed at spencer for absolutely no reason? hope that makes sense

thank you for requesting <3 pregnant!reader

“I’m serious, Spencer Reid, you better leave me alone,” you warn. 

Spencer gawps. Morgan glances between you both in concern, having seen hundreds of your conversations over the years and never one this sour. “But I–”

“I’m not kidding.” You glare at him, press your hand to your mouth, and spin away from him to march up the steps to Hotch’s office. 

Spencer attempts to follow you. Morgan holds him back with one hand to the chest. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

Spencer watches you until you’re gone. He frowns, upset in his eyes and his model pout. “I don’t even know what I did.” 

“Is this a common occurrence?” 

“No, never! But these last couple days she’s always angry with me.” 

“It’s the baby hormones,” Morgan assures his friend, patting him and pushing him toward his desk. “Or you did something and don’t remember.” 

“If I did, I really don’t.” 

You stew in Hotch’s office. Morgan can imagine the conversation, your annoyance and Hotch’s light bemusement, your wondering if you’re being too harsh, and Hotch giving an amiable, neutral answer. Morgan can also imagine what Spencer thinks you’re doing, watching as his shoulders sink further and further down. 

Spencer scratches a stressed hand through his hair. “I’ll go say sorry,” he says. 

“Maybe that’s a good idea, but not yet. She needs time to cool down.” 

Spencer frowns at his hands. “I don’t like when she’s mad at me like this. We’re always on the same page, I never have to guess what she’s thinking anymore.” He pulls at the neck of his shirt and his tight tie. “I feel like I’m twenty four again.” 

“This is all new for her,” Morgan says. What Spencer doesn’t know is that he’s making this up as he goes. Spencer messed irretrievably for all he knows. “You just need to remember why she’s doing it in the first place, right? She’s loved you for years, one pregnancy induced moment of rage won’t change that. Probably.”

Spencer isn’t appeased. Worse when you emerge from Hotch’s office and walk straight to your desk without glancing Spencer’s way, and worse again when he attempts to talk to you and you shake your head. “Please, Spencer. Just leave me alone.” 

Spencer spends the day in agony. The worry of what he’s done eats at him, and he attempts to make it up to you, ultimately making it worse. You frown at every cup of tea or water he brings you, glaring at the plate he serves you for lunch. The bullpen of the office sags under your fury. Spencer doesn’t eat a single bite all day.  

It’s by chance that Morgan witnesses the full fallout on his way to the bathroom. You’re in the hallway just on the way to Penelope’s office with Spencer, who’s clearly followed you to give apologies and concern aplenty. He’s caught your hand.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad,” Spencer says hopelessly. He sounds heartbroken.

You look at your hands for a long while, seconds stretching and aching, before you hold your stomach and look to the side. “I’m sorry–” you say, cutting yourself off as your voice wobbles unsurely.

“What?” Spencer asks, startled. 

“I don’t know,” —your breath shudders— “why I’m being so mean to you–”

“Angel–”

“I feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin and you’re just making me so angry hovering because I can look after myself, but I’m starting to think I can’t, and I look really stupid in my maternity clothes–”

“What’s wrong with your clothes?”

You huff sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he says, holding out his hands. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re just really pregnant right now and the hormones are messing with you,” —you scoff, but Spencer soldiers on— “I love how you look, and I love you even when you’re angry with me, and I’m sorry you feel claustrophobic. What can I do?” 

Your glare softens slowly. “You’re not mad at me?” 

“You’re mad at me, lovely.” 

Morgan thinks that last bit is a nice touch. You wipe your blurry eyes and squeeze his hands, still breathing too fast and too hard but the anger having completely drained from your features, returning you to your usual beautiful state. You measure his gaze for a while, before resting your forehead on his chest, your bump in the way of a proper hug. “Do you still love me?” you ask quietly.

“No.” He laughs and kisses your temple, using his index finger to turn your face by your hairline carefully, giving him better view of your face. “Yeah, I still love you. I always do. I’m sorry I upset you that much, I’m not trying to smother you.” 

“You didn’t, Spence, I upset myself, and I took it out on you… I’m sorry I was mean to you, earlier, you didn’t deserve it. It’s just hard.” You shake your head. “You never make me feel bad for being a diva and I wish you would.” 

“Would that make you feel better?” 

You sigh. “No, please keep being my sweetheart. Please.” 

Spencer says something too quiet for Morgan to hear, but can be read from the lips as a promise as he sweeps his hand up and down your back. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[sweets4dolls]

okok so like,,,, i know by technicality this shouldn’t be possible and feel free to ignore this but i’m thinking how do vox and valentino handle poor little bunny reader when she’s in heat/her rut and she’s locked herself in her room cause she’ll go crazy,,,,, likeeeee you can’t think that idea would at least be interesting,,,,,

𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉

pairings: vox + bunny!fem!reader, valentino + bunny!fem!reader

content warnings: smut, not proofread, tummy bulge, lots of cum, heat

notes: i was actually thinking the same thingggg, took me forever to get to tho </3

poor you, who was going through her first heat in hell.

not knowing what was going on and too embarrassed to say anything, you coop up in your room for the whole day, trying to ride it out by yourself as you lay miserably alone in your bed, all feral as you twist your legs around your pillow and hump it, desperate for any kind of satiating touch.

of course, since you never go a day without seeing the two demons, its was a matter of time until the pair of them go up to your room, surprised to find the door locked, an occurrence that had never happened before.

without hesitating, vox zaps the doorhandle, unlocking it as both step inside of the room, surprised to see their little bun a quivering mess as she ruts against her pillow.

when you see them, you let out a cry and pull the covers over your soft body, try to cover up from them, only earning a chuckle from valentino as they both survey their baby bunny in such a state.

valentino knows exactly what's happening, he's seen it in some of his workers before and is excited more than anything, happy to see you in such a state where it means he can take full advantage of you, ready to see if you can last longer than you normally would.

vox is conflicted - his poor little bun, hurting with an aching cunt in between her legs, and he's ready to make it go away - still, he doesn't want to take advantage of you in your sad little state as you, but can't deny how hard he gets as he sees you fall apart on your bed.

"s-sorry, I-" your words stumble out until valentino cuts you off, already stalking towards you. "oh, poor conejito, going through a heat, hm?" he says as his eyes linger an your sensitive flesh that was stained with sheer sweat.

vox follows, seating himself on the bed as he looks at you in your big eyes, "do you need our help bun?" he says, almost teasingly as your cheeks flush and tail flicks as your head nods embarrassedly, earning grins from both of them.

not waisting time, vox is on your hot little mouth as valentino slips his tongue into your pussy and suckles on your sore clit, making your hips jut as he eats you out and as vox tugs on your fluffy ears, making you whimper as vox kisses you with an almost bruising force.

"good little bun," vox whispers in between heavy kisses, making you grip onto his shoulders weakly as you mewl from how good they're both making you feel.

just as your about to cum, valentino pulls away, coercing a few tears to leak from your big, desperate eyes as vox holds you, pushing your hips down in place, shushing you as valentino pulls out his cock.

before you know it, valentino's thrusting into your puffy pussy, making you fluffy bun ears bounce each time he fucks his way into you, making you babble incoherently as vox runs his hands over you sensitive flesh, playing with your tits, rolling a thumb over a sensitive nipple, drawing even more desperate noises from you.

val pumps deeper into you with a groan as your pretty bunny pussy sucks him in so good, fucking you into cumming before spilling his own into your pretty tummy.

barely giving you time to come down from your high, your flipped, and vox is pressing the fat tip of his cock against your pussy that's still covered in slick and valentino's cum, earning pretty noises from you as he pushes in, feeling you envelope him as he bottoms out and starts fucking you hard.

groans come from his mouth as you thrusts in and out of your cunt, hips slamming against yours, trying to go deeper into you with every push as val mumbles little praises to you, petting your plush ears that flopped with every movement from vox.

you're a mess as you cum again as vox fucks you through your orgasm, later cumming into your pussy, pulling out to watch it drip down your darling thighs as he pushes some back in with a finger.

none of you leave that room for the rest of the day, each of them taking turns fucking you until your little tummy was so full of cum that there was a noticeable bulge. both of them bending you over, fucking their cum deeper and deeper into you with each round until you stop whining about your heat.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox x reader #valentino smut #vox x reader #vox smut

[neochan]

≡ 𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒! (𝟏𝟖+)

「 MEMBERS 」 ⋮ mark lee, huang renjun, lee jeno, na jaemin, lee haechan, zhong chenle, park jisung

≣ content warning ⋮ perverted, depraved, & taboo thoughts, nerd!mark, cnc / dubcon, innocence stealer!chenle, somnophilia, mentions of weed usage as a form of coercion, too strong!jeno, manhandling, rough!jeno, degradation, religious sacrilege, corrupt church boy!jaemin, slight humiliation, corruption, ra!renjun, manipulative!renjun, cocaine usage.

≣ a.note ⋮ i'm smoking weed and listening to old hiphop, what else was i supposed to do other than write these cute little perv drabbles :) give me a like, a follow, or a reblog.

⩩ mark lee ⋮ so what if he's a 'nerd'. he doesn't care if you make fun of him in class with all your friends. he shrugs it off like no big deal. it really wasn't a big deal, until you brought up his dick size. see, mark isn't one of those guys whose ego gets shot from small dick jokes. but when the joke leaves your pretty little mouth, well something shifts in the pit of his stomach. he still shrugs it off though, until you're walking home from class, skirt swishing back and forth just barely covering the swell of your ass. good little girls should know better... it was easy, really. clamping a hand over your lips puckered in a silent scream. and then to drag you back to his car. oh, it was so, so easy. in fact, you really wanted it. the way you spread your legs, revealing a patch of arousal on the seat of your lacy panties. how you willingly helped him slip them to the side. the way you moaned his name when he slid into your puffy cunt, tits pressing against his chest and eyes locked on his. you begged for him to keep going. for him to go harder. so he did. again, and again, and again. until you could barely walk when he dumped you outside the front of your dorm. but sure enough, you stayed quiet in class the next day...

⩩ huang renjun ⋮ renjun has an addiction. it's not porn - not technically. it's not cocaine, or nicotine. he's not an alcoholic, yet still, he felt the withdrawal all too much. he was addicted to you. or, your body, rather. he dreamed of it, hands reaching up to cup your tits, cock sunk deep in your pussy, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth as you lost yourself on him. and when he woke up, aching and hard, he had no choice but to pathetically jerk off to the remnants of the memory. he thought about putting cameras in your room, maybe the womens showers, to capture you. something he can have as a keepsake of this obsession. see, he had access. he was your resident advisor. he could do that. but then he found out from a little birdie that his star resident in room two oh twelve used her daddies money to buy coke off her dealer boyfriend. see that...that was the key. all he had to do was used that as bait to convince you. and he did. one night, at a stupid party he was supposed to shut down, he saw you snort a line off the living room table. next thing he knew, you were upstairs, tears welling in your eyes, pleading with him not to tell. you would do anything. anything.

⩩ lee jeno ⋮ really, his strength was his best asset. but he's never had someone put up this much of a fight. seriously, after one good hair pull and a hand around the throat, girls usually let up. but you... you were fun. you were a challenge. you push back, hands slapping against his chest to combat him. all he does is snarl and shove harder, pressing your back against the kitchen counter. his biceps flex with the exertion of grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the marble. you thrash around still, until he twists your body so sharply, you cry out. he chuckles, "god i love you." he presses his stiffening cock against you, circling his hips to gain some sort of friction, "feel that? you're driving me crazy." a few half-hearted attempts at getting free does nothing for you, instead, it spins you around so now your chest was pressed flat against the cold surface. he transfers your wrists into one giant hand, and uses his other to yank down your bottoms. "...and you're soaked. fuck, y/n. gonna give you what you need. gonna fuck this stupid attitude outta you, yeah?" your walls flutter around his uninvited fingers, "ahhh, you like that, you sick fuck. want me to fuck you into submission. make you a real good girl for me. gonna train you to take me, and only me." he doesn't even feel you resist anymore, because you give up. you let him use your body until he's spent, and even then, you let him use your mouth. anything for him. anything for jeno.

⩩ na jaemin ⋮ he wasn't a god. but at this moment, with his entire world peering up through wet lashes, on bruised knees...well, he surely felt like one. it didn't help that he stood overtop your broken figure on the edge of the alter. he caresses your jaw and gives you a smile full of pearly white teeth that gleam in the stained glass shadows, "speak." with tears welling in your eyes at the command, it takes a second, but eventually your hoarse voice echoes out, "forgive me father for i have sinned." you see, jaemin wasn't a priest, but he took your confessions as if he was one. he wanted you to bare your soul to him. your perverted, depraved, sick thoughts. he doesn't speak though, just cocks an eyebrow and crouches down so that he was eye level. you continue, "i-, this is so...embarrassing, gosh, i don't..." he gives your jaw a squeeze, making the words tumble out, "i did it again. i... i touched myself again..it's wrong, i- i know, but he, you...plague my mind." your voice quiets the longer his gaze burns into you. but nothing compares to the image that burns brighter in his mind. your innocent fingers slipping between plush thighs, jaemin being the temptation you couldn't withstand. it made him feel fucking good. "it's okay darling, god forgives you, i forgive you..." he stands up again and reaches a hand down to toy with the buckle of his belt, "but with sin comes punishment." he undoes the latch and slowly slips it from the belt loops of his dress pants. the sound makes you flinch, a whisper escaping your pouted lips, "oh god." heat surges through his veins, almost bringing him to his knees, "no angel, i'm not god. i'll be more forgiving than any god. i'll be gentle, i'll liberate you from all sin. i'll make you good. my darling, i'll make you pure again."

⩩ lee haechan ⋮ yeah, he did it on purpose, so what. technically, he didn't force you to inhale, he simply stuck the blunt between your fingers and called it a day. admittedly, you did exactly what he wanted, but he chalked that up to good luck, and the devil on his side. watching you slowly revert to a rambling, squirmy mess made his cock stir in his jeans. and when you got all cuddly, snuggling up to his chest and dragging him closer, well, what else was he supposed to do other than stick his tongue in your mouth and push you back against the arm of the couch. you came on to him, really. either way, the night led with his tongue down your throat, and his hand up your skirt. and still, when he pushes your panties to the side and slips a finger into your cunt, his suspicions are confirmed. your arousal dripped down his wrists, a testament to how much you truly wanted him. really, he was doing you a service. an act of kindness. "be still baby" he growled, forcing your legs wider apart. you whimpered and whined, body holding still but head rolling on your shoulders. "hyuckie.." you kept mewling, and with each sound of his name, he grew harder and harder. it felt like he might burst if he didn't bury his cock in you right this minute. so he does. sloppily, because he was high too, but he does. and it's slow, and messy, and sick. and he loved every fucking second. god, he can't wait to do this to you, no, with you, again.

⩩ zhong chenle ⋮ stealing innocence, robbing naivety, corrupting purity... whatever people call that, chenle calls a normal everyday thought. he hasn't really fucked you yet, only teased you. he's coerced you into letting him touch your cunt, but only the soft skin on the outside. you've let him touch your breasts, but never the sensitive bud in the center. you also let him toy with your ass one time, but the second he tried to slip a finger inside, you pushed him off and told him to wait. nothing could happen before marriage. but chenle was tired of waiting. he was bored of watching you through the camera in the shower. sick of touching himself beside your sleeping figure - the only time he could shift your legs in your sleep to poke at your clothed cunt. just rubbing you through the satin material of your pajama bottoms got him off, but he needed more. this time, he was able to wriggle your shorts down around your ankles, and what a sight it was. oh he was gonna have so much fun. one finger, two fingers, his tongue, eventually working his way up to the tip of his cock. pushing in, not too much to make you stir... just enough to tease himself. you were so tight, so untouched. it was obvious he was your first, and it took everything in him to hold back. tomorrow night...tomorrow night will be the night he fucks you full, until you're leaking his cum. until you're his. ruined for him only.

⩩ park jisung ⋮ jisung hates how you think of him. not just you, but everyone really. see, he's not just the maknae. he doesn't want the baby voice, or the coddling, or the fucking head pats. if you really knew what he was capable of, maybe you'd think twice before treating him like a kid all the time. if you could see the way he fucks his fist, fingers twisted in the sheets of his bed, or knuckles jammed between his teeth... the things he thought about; you sitting on his cock, forced to take every inch of him, even when the tears well over the brim of your eyelashes. cunt full of his fingers while he sucked and nipped at your breasts. the bruises he'd leave on every inch of your skin. how he fantasizes about pushing you to the floor and stuffing his cock down your throat until you were thrashing for just a small breath of air. he doesn't get off on hurting you, no, he could never do that. but making you see just how much stronger he was.. how he could force you onto your knees, and rough you up a bit until your swollen lips screamed his name. well, maybe then you'd stop treating him like some dumb kid.

≣ taglist ⋮ @hykwrld-main @peachjaem00 @rainyjeno @be-my-sunrise @revehae

#nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #mark lee smut #haechan smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct jisung smut #chenle smut #renjun smut #nct dream drabble #nct dream reaction #nct smut #nct smut drabble

[norrisleclercf1]

I have this mafia Charles hurt comfort idea. Pretty platonic but somewhere where Charles sees her and is mesmerized and slowly creeps his way in the readers life. This is till one day the opposite mafia figures out there’s a weak spot and they take and rough her up and he comes and saves her will all “Who did this to you” trope etc

A/N: I love this, because it's platonic and I don't write that often

You don't know how Charles came to be in your life, one day you were working at your restaurant and serving him, and now here he was eating your chips on your coach.

It was weird to see this man, one who for some reason were scared off sitting on your god ugly couch wearing a very expensive Gucci suit. "Charles?" The man hums and stops shoving the chips in his mouth and cocks his head to the side. "Yeah, babes?" You roll your eyes and chuckle, Charles knows damn well you wouldn't date him, but that didn't stop him from calling you babes or baby.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a meeting or something?" You move from your kitchen and sit down next to Charles, pulling your legs up to your chest. "Yes, but I wanted to see you first." "To do what? Eat all my food." You snatch away the bag and he whines at the loss of his salty cheat food.

"Maybe, but np, wanted to let you know I have to go to France for a little bit." He shrugs, and you don't pry, Charles always told you when he'd be out of town and that the normal person who followed you, yet something you weren't supposed to know, would be following you. "How long will you be gone?" Charles smiles and pats your knee, rings on display.

He wore one that had an insignia on it and never took it off, you still remember when a shop clerk who was rude to you saw it. The shop clerk froze and when Charles turned and smiled you can still see the way the color drained from his face.

"I'll be gone for about a month or so, you going to miss me?" He grins and you shove his head slightly both of you chuckling. "No, I'll be free of your being a bother. And I'll have my chips to myself." Charles giggles, but stops as he clears his throat getting serious.

"Promise me, that you'll be safe, don't talk to strangers." His face stone cold and you snort. "Yeah should've listened to that advice. Then I wouldn't have a stranger sitting on my couch." You joke, but your laughter is only met with a stern gaze. "Y/n, you're my best friend, I'm serious please don't do anything crazy." He pleads and you nod your head.

"Of course, Char," You untangle your legs and move into his lap and hug him. Charles relaxes and wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. "I'll be back, don't worry." Kissing your temple.

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

"Anything else for you sir?" You smile at the creepy Italian man with big curly hair and round glasses on his pinched face. "No, thank you," You nod and quickly walk through the dark restaurant and shiver feeling his eyes on you still. "You alright?" One of your coworkers ask, worry evident in their tone. "Yep, just the usual weird customer." They nod in understanding and move away going to check on their own tables.

Your shift finally ends, and you shiver, shaking off the weird feeling of being watched. Tightening your coat around you, you jump and then giggle when you realize it's your phone vibrating. "Hey, Char," You knew it was him, his shadow must've told him you just left work. "Hey, gorgeous. How was work?" He asks, and you smile, missing having him beside you and walking you home.

"It was fine, the regulars, and then some gu-" The phone is ripped from your grasp and you scream but it's muffled by a hand closing around your mouth. Two men shove you into the alleyway hearing a crunch you whimper knowing they've destroyed your phone.

You want nothing more than to have Charles here, as pain explodes all over your body.

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

You don't know what happened, but the soft beeping has your body aching just wanting it to shut up. "mumph," You grumble, warmth is suddenly on you and fingers tracing the lines of your face. "Baby, shhh it's okay, you're safe." Opening your eyes, the best you can with them swollen you see a blurry image of Charles.

"Who did this to you?" He whispers, voice filled with anger and sadness. "God, I'm so sorry," He whispers and moves lying down on the bed with you. You whine, sore all over but it feels good to have Charles's scent and warmth all over you. "Missed you," You whisper, and Charles chuckles and cuddles closer to you. "I missed you too," He whispers and you drift off into sleep.

"Sir, we found them," Charles doesn't move and just nods his head. "Rip his head off," Charles growls and presses a delicate kiss to your temple. "Rip all their heads off for all I care,"

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc oneshot #mafia!f1 #f1!mafia #mafia!charles leclerc #charles leclerc x platonic!reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

[faerievampling]

A Sweet Heart

Summary: Astarion follows the sweet scent of Tav's arousal to her tent, unable to help himself. Set in Act 1, after the clearing scene.

Word Count: 1.2k

Here's the link to AO3!

Pairing: Act 1 Astarion x Female Tav

Warnings: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Blood kink. Blood drinking. Biting. Vaginal fingering. Oral sex. A little bit of angst and sweetness.

A/N: I wrote most of this in a horny delirium last night. hope you enjoy!! 

Astarion could smell your sweet yearning from across camp. The two of you had thus far only shared a night; but the scent of your juices, your sweat, your blood…Astarion hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Hadn’t stopped thinking about how you had let him feed on you in your most vulnerable state.

And now, he could smell the rise of your swelling desire as you lie in your bedroll; he wonders if you’re touching yourself, or maybe having a naughty dream.

Astarion had been happy to choose you as his next ‘victim’. You were strong, competent, and beautiful. 

You were sweet to him. Your blood was sweet; even your cunt, which Astarion thought was rather pretty, was sweet. 

And you were still standing. Cazador never came and took you away, despite Astarion staying up all night, anxiously awaiting for you to disappear from where you slept beside him.

But you didn’t. You were here. And you were a naive, generous, and sweet little thing with a pretty cunt who could protect him.

Astarion begins to walk to your tent. Once he picks up on the beat of your heart, he knows you aren’t sleeping. He decides to utilize the tadpole rather than startling you by other means.

Which he could totally do uninvited, by the way.

“Darling, I’d like another taste of you,” He edges into your mind, offering an invitation. 

Astarion is excited when you accept. His fangs and his cock are aching for you. 

When he enters your tent, you are already in your underclothes, and Astarion can smell the evidence of your arousal; he doesn’t waste any time with words before he kneels beside you and embraces you in a kiss, hands trailing over your body as he listens to the quickening pace of that sweet heart of yours.

My sweetheart. Astarion pushes the thought away as he frees your breasts, taking you in hungrily before latching his lips to your nipple, remembering how much you liked it last time. 

Astarion trails his hand down your other breast until he is tugging at your underclothes, freeing you of them before he begins to take his own clothes off, coming back to your breast after each motion.

He really wants to bite you here, just above your pert nipple. But instead, he decides to kiss you, using his tongue to part your lips. He's decided that you aren’t a great kisser, and so he would have to teach you. 

Practice does make perfect, Astarion thinks, and it seems like a worthy investment on his part. You are rather gorgeous and you wouldn’t be taken from him come morning. 

As his fingers slip between your slick folds, Astarion hums against your lips, the evidence of his pleasure making you quiver.

The pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and begin to make slow, circular motions; the pressure of his fingers is so perfect, it sends waves of delectation throughout your body.

Astarion moves to your entrance, pushing a finger inside of you with little resistance. 

“So eager, darling,” He purrs before brushing his lips to yours again, this time trailing down to your jaw and your neck. As he eases another finger inside you, his thumb circles your clit, causing you to clench around his fingers. 

Astarion begins to feel his own underclothes wet with his precum; his cock was begging to be freed of its restraints. 

He has you unraveling beneath him in minutes. With each kiss, each roll of the hips, Astarion grows increasingly frustrated until he eventually frees his cock, eyeing you hungrily before placing himself between your thighs. 

When he removes his hand from your cunt, a string of your juices follows, and it is so lewd that he thinks about just ramming his cock and his fangs into you right then and there; using you like a toy, to be discarded after use.

“Oh, you naughty little thing,” He says under his breath. 

But another part of him thinks that he just wants another taste of you. 

Astarion wraps his hand around his cock as he uses his fingers to spread your folds. He eyes your sex with anticipation before tenderly placing his lips around your swollen clit. 

Astarion's lips look lovely on your mound, and you can't help but run your hand through his beautiful curls as he consumes you.

His tongue is soft, almost feather light at first, before he begins to lap and suck at you. Astarion thinks that you taste even better than before. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re trembling beneath him, the shocks of your orgasm reverberating throughout your body as you come on Astarion's tongue.

The smell of your juices and sweat invigorate him, and he wastes no time: once Astarion has lined himself up with your entrance, you feel the weight of his cock slowly pressing into you until he is balls deep.

You squirm around his length as he takes a nipple between his fingers and squeezes, giving you a smirk before bending over and planting his lips on yours again.

He lowers his head to your neck, breathing against the spot he liked to feed from. 

“Yes,” is all you manage to say before you feel the sharp pain as Astarion pulls you into a sanguine embrace.

Astarion moans against you, fully pressing into you as he drinks you in, his swollen cock immediately knocking into that sweet spot deep inside you.

You moan, gripping at his hair and trailing a hand down his neck, his back. You feel your blood trailing down your collarbone as Astarion begins to stroke you; his pace is slow, deep, and it follows the pull of your blood by his pretty lips.

You swear you feel his cock harden even from within you, and when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed with your crimson.

You feel woozy as he continues to fuck you; Astarion is lapping up the spilled blood, one hand on your waist and the other on your breast as his pace quickens, causing you to moan with each thrust.

Suddenly, Astarion pulls out of you fully before sheathing himself inside you once more. The noise your cunt is making is obscene as the clap of him against you sends you into oblivion. 

You clench around him, moaning his name in his ear as he continues to slide his cock against your walls: but he is about to lose control, and once he does, you feel his thick spurts of come deep inside you as his tip bangs against your cervix. 

After you’ve recovered, Astarion lies next to you, putting his arm around you as he did the first night. You’ve fallen asleep next to him, and he watches as your chest rises and falls. 

He closes his eyes and focuses on your beating heart. It is steady, strong, and for some reason, open for him to explore. 

Astarion curses at himself for even thinking of doing such a thing. Yet here you were, in his arms, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. 

Gods above. It could never be that simple, could it?

Masterlist

#astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion #astarion romance

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Dream of Me

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen (House of the Dragon) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, smut. Word count: ~1.2k

Summary: Upon learning of Helaena's lady in waiting's dream of him, Aemond is plagued by his own.

Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day two of the Smuffmas prompts - "dreams and dirty talk". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Just so you know, if I were going to pleasure you with my mouth, I would do it before I stuck my cock in your cunt, not after.”

The words Aemond had spoken to her play on a loop in his mind as he readies himself for bed, a smug smirk of satisfaction playing delicately upon his lips.

Her shocked expression is one he wants to keep in his mind’s eye as he pleasures himself, but is frustrated to find that his overindulgence of wine at that evening’s supper renders him unable to rouse his cock to attention, it lays flaccid and useless in his palm, causing him to tuck it away with a frustrated sigh.

As he lays tangled in the soft cotton of the bedsheets, his final thought as sleep tugs him towards hazy unconsciousness is that he hopes she will dream of him again.

She has her back turned to him, fingers tracing carefully over the spines of the books on the shelf she faces in the library. He strides purposefully towards her, the dulcet tone of her gasp shooting straight to his stones, making them ache, as he wraps a deft hand around her throat. 

He can feel the heat of her body through his jerkin as he pulls her back against his chest, the skin of her jaw soft as peach flesh as he trails his mouth against it. She shivers against him, not fighting his advances, simply allowing him to do with her as he pleases.

The lacings that fasten the back of her gown tear effortlessly in his grasp as his free hand rips at them, the garment falling from her body, leaving her completely bare to him.

Her hands reach up the shelves, gripping for purchase, whether it is to keep herself steady, or an attempt to get away from him, Aemond is unsure, but desire boils too hotly in his blood for him to care.

He is swift to untie his breeches, grabbing her hips and sinking himself into her tight, wet heat. His name has never sounded sweeter than it does when it topples from her lips in the throes of ecstasy, coupled with the sticky sounds that accompany every push into her. She is so warm, so warm, so very warm…

There is warmth against his flesh when Aemond opens his eye, the bright sunlight that bleeds through the crack in the curtains making him grimace as he scrubs a hand across his face.

He has been dreaming, and yet it had felt so real. He swears he can feel her arousal, the heat of her, and then he sees the sticky translucence that coats his lower abdomen.

Just a dream.

The shame of which he will wash away in his morning bath.

He feels restless throughout the day, nothing satisfies the pulsating ache of want that simmers hotly in his lower abdomen.

The burning in his shoulder from wielding his sword, bringing it down upon Ser Criston’s upturned shield, and watching the wood splinter into fragments across the gravel of the training yard does nothing to quell the storm that rages inside him.

Perhaps it is not physical stimulation that he needs he reasons, nowhere has offered him solace quite like the quiet solitude that can be found between the yellowing pages of a historical tome.

The library is silent as he enters it, the thud of his boots against the flagstone floor echoing off of the vaulted ceiling as he makes his way slowly between the towering shelves. The supple leather that binds the covers of his favourite philosophy and history books feels rough against his fingertips. Nothing could compare with the velvety softness of how her flesh had dimpled beneath the press of his fingertips, but that was all in his imagination. How could a simple dream have rendered him so listless?

He swallows, screwing his eye shut, attempting to ignore the throbbing between his legs.

Just a dream. No reality would ever yield such pleasure. The depravity he had dared to peruse since learning of her dream of him would never be as pleasurable as he had built it up in his mind to be.

He exhales a shaky breath, attempting to calm himself, and when he opens his eye she is there, much more real than anything he could imagine. Yet the sight of her, back turned to him as her eyes wander the shelves feels so familiar. He is frozen in place, until she feels his attention on her and turns slightly, offering the softest of smiles.

He clears his throat, stepping towards her, his voice low.

“I trust you slept well, my lady?”

“Mmm, yes, my Prince, very well indeed,” she responds politely, turning to face him.

His eye roves across her, taking in her delicate features, the gentle slope of her neck, the swell of her breasts in her bodice, the subtle curve of her hips beneath her skirts, before lifting once more to her face.

“Were your dreams pleasant?” He asks with a smirk.

“You mean did I dream of you?” She replies cheeikly.

Little temptress.

“I dreamed of you,” he whispers, stepping towards her, backing her against the shelves. There is no fear reflected back at him in her eyes, as she stares up at him, only glittering excitement. It takes all of his restraint not to grab her by the waist and pull her to him.

“Pleasant, I hope?” Her chest rises and falls in a sudden state of breathlessness.

“You drive me to distraction,” he utters. “Tell me, how easily would your dress tear from your body if I were to tug hard enough?”

Her eyes go wide as her breath hitches, but still she does not look away. “I–I do not know,” is all she is able to offer.

“I ripped it from you in my dreams,” he whispers, ducking his head low to whisper against the shell of her air, delighting in the way her skin erupts into gooseflesh at the feel of his breath. “I sank inside of you, and you screamed my name in ecstasy.”

“Aemond…” she gasps helplessly, hands clutching at the black material of his jerkin.

“It sounds so sweet from your mouth. Does it leave your lips so freely when you pleasure yourself?”

Finally she averts her gaze, her voice small and embarrassed sounding when she answers. “...yes.”

His nose trails a path from her ear, down her neck, stopping when he reaches her clavicle. She smells sweet, like rosewater, her flesh as delicate as the petals from which it derives its scent, exactly as he had dreamed it would.

“Please…” she whines, her fists coiling tighter in the leather that covers his chest.

“Please what?” He asks coyly, lifting his gaze, his face mere inches away from hers.

“Touch me.”

“You would like that, would you not? For me to soak my cock with your maidenhead, leave your betrothed dissatisfied with what he finds on your wedding night?”

“But I want you,” she pleads quietly.

“And I you, my lady,” he grips her jaw tightly in his hand, running his thumb over the plumpness of her bottom lip. “But for now, sweet dreams of each other will have to do. I hope to visit you in yours again soon.”

With that, Aemond abruptly steps away from her, leaving the library in desperate need to relieve the way he strains against the confines of his trousers. He hopes he dreams of her again tonight, and every night after that.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #pro aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond hotd #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd #hotd smut #house of the dragon #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic #hotd fanfiction

[marikuchanxo]

Mistakes Are Better Fixed

Characters: Husband!Nanami Kento x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k~

CW: Angst, fluff, hurt reader, pet names.

Author's note: Hello! This is my first ever writing :). Please feel free to leave your opinion/recommendation after you read. Special thanks to @pseudowho who helped me writing it.

Fighting. A word that isn’t found in your relationship dictionary with your husband Nanami Kento. Most of the time you and him would have meaningful and calm conversations. Of course, like any couple, you would have some arguments here and there; due to different opinions or making important decisions. But this time, it isn’t like any before. 

It is Sunday afternoon, and you find yourself in an extremely heated fight with Nanami. Heck, you don’t even remember what got you both into this situation. Your heart is exhausted from all the arguing. “JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!!” 

Nanami shouts at you with such a furious face that you have never seen on him before. You, on the other hand, petrified, and trapped between him and the wall facing your back. Your eyes swell up with tears facing the floor; you just can’t keep looking at him with such frightening features. Nanami immediately snaps out of his stance, seeing tears running down your flushed face. Those tears are the result of his own actions. Since day one of your marriage, he vowed and promised you that he would never do something that won’t be in your favour. And now he broke that promise.

“Sweetheart, I…” You don’t let him continue with his words as you take your crying self away from him to the bathroom. He follows you down the hallway, so you rush and lock yourself inside.

“Love, please open the door. Let me talk to you.” 

Nanami knocks on the door softly so as not to startle you anymore. On the other side of the door, you slide your back against it and cry your heart out. Sobs and whimpers are all he can hear from you, and his heart aches for each one of them. 

“I will be waiting for you outside.” He gently whispers to you from behind the door. Nanami slips himself to the ground, his face in his palms; ashamed of what he’s done.

After an hour or so, you get calmer and collected. Shivering from the cold floor beneath you, you pick up yourself to take a quick shower and get out of the bathroom. You have decided to leave afterwards to pick a quick bite and then spend the rest of the day at Shoko’s. Your tummy is rumbling with hunger already as you didn’t get the chance to make breakfast; you started your day with that heated fight. Great. At the same time, as Nanami hears the shower turning on, he sighs gladly that you are fine. He gets up, looking forward to making it up with you. When you are done and open up the door, you find your husband standing before you. Anticipation is all over his face, replacing the horror you witnessed before. He reaches out for your hand, speaking politely.

“Please, let me fix this..”

“Nanami, I need my space for the time being. I am going to Shoko. I don’t know when I will be back.”

You leave his hand hanging in the air, looking away as you are speaking. You head to your shared bedroom to change your clothes and head outside. Nanami realises that you are still mad at him, which you have every right to be, when you called him by his last name. In better circumstances, you call him Kento or Ken. His beloved wife is the only person he allows to call him by his first name, as an element of intimacy between the both of you. He surrenders to your decision to give you some needed space. 

As you change into comfy sweatpants and jumper, you text Shoko that you’re coming to her house. She welcomes you right away. It isn’t your first time to stay over; both of you consider your homes as each other's way before meeting Nanami. You comb and braid your long hair before heading out of the bedroom. You notice Nanami sitting on the couch, hands in his lap. He gets on his feet and his eyes shift to you when he senses your presence.

“I am leaving.” As you reach the door to leave, Nanami calls for you to stay but you don’t answer him.

The moment you get inside your car, texts start flooding your phone. You know it is your husband because you set this special ringtone for him.

Kento 💙: Sweetheart, please come back. I was out of my mind when I shouted at you, I shouldn’t have done that.

Kento 💙: I deeply apologise for my awful action.

Kento 💙: Please text me when you arrive at Shoko’s.

Kento 💙: Home isn’t the same without you here.

You check these messages from the notifications bar before you start driving. You are still not ready to talk to him. 

When you arrive at Shoko’s house and sees you, she senses your gloomy vibes. Asking if something is wrong, you immediately start crying. She brings you into her soothing hug, giving you all the time you need to calm down. When you start mentioning what happened, she is shocked that Nanami is the one who hurt you. Shoko knows how special you are to him that he wouldn’t ever be on the list of people who could do you harm. She tries to calm you as much as she can when her phone rings.

“It is Nanami.” Before she responds to his call, you try to muffle your sobs.

“Hey, Nanami. Yes, she is here. She is alright, don't worry. Umm, give me a second.” She mutes the call and tells you that he wants to talk to you. Shaking your head, you reject his request.

“I am sorry, Nanami, she doesn’t want to talk right now. Sure, no problem. Okay, bye.”

After that call, you go to the bathroom to freshen up while Shoko makes some hot tea. As you settle down and check your phone, you notice more texts from Nanami.

Kento 💙: Did you arrive at Shoko’s? Please let me know.

Kento 💙: Are you okay? Did you grab something to eat on the way? I know you skipped breakfast because of me.

Kento 💙: Darling, I miss you. Alot.

Again, you ignore his texts. You wish you could reply to him, but your heart is still grieving. 

When Shoko comes back with the tea, you feel a bit soothed. As a life-long friend, she knows that tea is always the solution for any problem you have. Taking your first sip, you tell her of what had happened in more detail, you apologise for barging in suddenly, and ask her if you can spend the night here. Shoko happily welcomes you again. Giving her a small grin, you thank her, feeling blessed for having such a great friend in your life. 

The night comes in, you just had dinner with Shoko. The TV is switched on some random channel, spending some quiet time with her. You haven't heard from your husband since the last texts he sent you. You find worry starts seeping to your heart, but your mind refuses to contact him. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. You look at Shoko as if asking are you waiting for someone? She shrugs No and goes to check the door anyway. As she opens it, Shoko finds Kento in front of her. He is not in his best looks as sadness appears to take a toll on him.

“Good evening, Shoko.”

“Hey, Nanami. Please come in.”

“Thank you. I won't be here for long. I just want to check on her.”

“Definitely.”

Shoko leaves Nanami with an assuring grin. She goes back to you in the living room to inform you of the visitor. 

“Nanami is here. He wants to check on you.”

“Didn’t he call and you told him I am okay? He knows I am spending the night here.”

“Dear, Nanami is your husband and he would do his absolute best to win you back and you know that. I haven’t seen you acting like this before towards him.”

“Because he never shouted at me before! Kento knows I have a traumatic past and I don’t want to go through it again.”

Uttered faintly, you bring your knees to your chest and hug yourself.

“I am not in a good state yet to see him, Shoko. I am sorry…”

Defeated, Shoko sighs and gives your back a soft pat. She understands what you mean but she wishes this quarrel would be resolved sooner than later. 

Kento hears footsteps coming to him, hoping they are yours. To his dismay, it is Shoko empty handed.

“I am sorry, Nanami. I tried my best but she is stubborn.”

“I understand. My apologies for coming this late at night. I shall get going.”

“Thanks, Nanami. Good night.”

With a sinking heart, Nanami retreats to your shared home. He knew you wouldn’t come back with him, but the last thing he wanted to see before going to sleep is his loving wife’s face. This is the first night he spends without you safe and sound in his arms.

“Rise and shine, Missy. Breakfast is ready.”

“Good morning to you too.” You reply in a raspy voice.

It is the next morning and Shoko bursts into the bedroom to wake you up. Sunshine flows through the curtains illuminating the whole area. You stretch out of the bed after a good night’s sleep; much better and recharged.

As you reach the kitchen table, you find delicious pastries from your favourite cafe. Cheddar and Turkey filled croissants, raspberry tarte and much more.

“Nanami passed by and brought them. You were still asleep and he didn’t want me to wake you up.”

Your cheeks turn pink at the mention of his name. You find yourself bashful and start missing him already.

“I think I will text him after I am done.” “You better do it, Mrs. Kento.”

“Shoko!!” She teases you with a wink.

True to your words, you grab your phone after finishing breakfast to thank Kento. Unlocking the phone, his texts are the first thing you notice.

Kento 💙: Good morning, sweetheart. I brought you your favourite breakfast. Please eat well.

Kento 💙: I miss you, so much. Home isn’t the same without you.

Kento 💙: I hope I can see you soon.

Your heart swells with love from his texts. You do miss him too, but a bit shy to tell him so. Taking a picture of the empty pastry boxes, you text him a “Thank you 💖” message. Kento immediately replies.

Kento 💙: I am glad you liked them. Have a good day, love.

Later on, you and Shoko decided to spend the day at the nearby park. The weather is warm and sunny; too good to be wasted. You pack some snacks, drinks, along with a light lunch. You also bring UNO, your favourite card game. As you both arrive at the park, you pick a good spot beside this big tree. The park is quiet today, it is Monday after all. The area surrounding you is full of greenery, pretty flowers flowing from the bushes, white butterflies dancing around them, and birds chirping on tree branches. You sigh in content, smiling at Shoko being grateful for making such a good decision. 

“I see you in a good mood.” Shoko smirks at you.

“That’s a fact, thankfully.” Grinning at Shoko, you take out the UNO pack to start playing with her. Time passes by when you are having a good time. After five matches, both of you get tired and hungry. It is almost five when you are unpacking your lunches. 

“Have you decided on anything?” Shoko asks as she takes a bite from her sandwich.

“I think I am going home tonight. I can’t leave Kento all this time by himself.”

“Ohhh, someone is homesick after all.” She teases you.

“I do miss him, Shoko. Whatever happens between us, it won’t stop me from loving him and fixing things together.”

“Alright, alright, Missy. Eat up while it is still fresh.”

You nod at her and start eating while you enjoy the scenery. After a while, your mind wanders, lost in thought about Kento. 

“Is something wrong?” Shoko asks as she is waving her hand, seeing you lost in thought.

“No, it is just that I haven’t heard from Kento since morning. I wonder if he is alright.” Worry starts showing on your face.

“Speaking of which, turn around to find out.” Shoko chuckles.

“What are you talking about, Shoko?” 

Confused, you do turn around to find your blonde husband from a distance walking towards you, in his beige suit and blue shirt, looking fine as always, hiding something behind his back. As he approaches with a soft smile, you get up on your feet to greet him. You hold your hands to your chest, your beating heart is dancing with happiness as he reaches you.

“Hello, darling.” Kento softly speaks as he caresses your cheek.

“Hello, Kento.” You reply blissfully, leaning into his touch.

“I brought you this. Please accept my apology.” 

From behind his back, he gives you a big bouquet of pretty white tulips, your favourite kind of flowers. 

“Oh my god, Kento. You really didn’t have to.” 

You joyfully receive them, holding them dearly in your embrace.

“That’s the least I can do to you, love. I would bring the whole world to you if I could.” 

He is glad that you accepted his apology. Sighing in content, as he holds your hand into his, he is sure of your answer when he asks, “Will you come home with me?” “Yes, Kento. Let’s go home together.”

Giggling to each other, you hear Shoko clapping at this happy ending.

“Well, well, well. The two love birds are finally back together.” 

Wiping her fake tears, you and Kento laugh at her sense of humour. Kento thanks her for taking care of you, and you give her a big hug for being such a great friend. You help her pack everything back, but this time, you are going back home with Kento.

#jjk #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami fic #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #marikuchan writes

[myysaints]

saw your requests are open so i’d like to request something! something angsty because this came to me after listening to ‘cherry’ by harry styles :p reader is danny’s ex but they broke up, few months later he’s dating someone else and reader is now in a (new/fresh) relationship with another driver, max/charles i couldn’t decide so i’ll let you do that! ♡ just something angsty like him realizing how much he misses her but she’s moved on and happy 🫶🏼 hope this makes sense? ah, love your stuff btw!!!

thank u anon you're so sweet! and ughhhh this request was IMMACULATE cherry is one of my favourite harry styles songs. wasn't sure if you wanted a socmed fic, if u did lmk and i'd be happy to adapt it into one! but i hope you enjoy nevertheless :)

I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends

Daniel stares down at his phone.

What a cruel twist of fate it is that the moment he opened his Instagram, he sees you.

You’re laughing in the picture, your hand looped around none other than Max’s neck. You’re sprawled on the Red Bull driver’s lap, and there’s a giddy grin on both of your faces, Max’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. It feels bittersweet, seeing that familiar sweet smile of yours, only now it’s pointed at another man.

It’s only one photo in a carousel of others posted by your best friend. Why Daniel still follows her, he has no idea. But he stares at the photograph of you for longer than he’d like to admit.

There’s a shuffling noise from the kitchen, and Daniel’s new girlfriend pokes her head into the room. “Danny, we still going out for dinner?”

Daniel can only stare at her for a moment, too caught up in the memories of you and him to reply.

He knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he shouldn’t be leading this poor girl along. He knows that all this relationship is to him is a way to distract himself from what’s really eating at him. He knows that she’s just a replacement for you.

But the quizzical smile his girlfriend sends has his heart aching in guilt, so he manages a feeble nod in response, quickly shutting his phone off and throwing it onto the bed, before making his way to her smiling face.

The guilt eats him alive as he makes small talk with her over dinner. He would never admit it, but sometimes he can’t stand to look at her; to roll over in bed and see someone other than you laying beside him.

Did you know I still talk to them?

Everything changed after Zandvoort.

Daniel was partially to blame, he knew that. The crash in free practice had taken a toll on him, not just physically but mentally. The season in AlphaTauri was his one shot at proving that he still had it in him to be a class Formula 1 driver - to the world, to Red Bull, and to himself.

You were supportive of him all the way. From the moment he entered talks with Red Bull and AlphaTauri to get back into F1, to when he first got in that white and blue car at Hungary, you were always there, by his side.

But Zandvoort changed things. Zandvoort changed him.

He started to push you away. The comments from the media, from fans, from people everywhere, all around him, were starting to get to him. Did nobody believe in him anymore? Was he really not cut out for Formula 1?

Was his time really up?

The weeks of recovery were dark for the both of you. For him, most of it was spent in bed, his mind fuzzy from the painkillers and medicine, too tired and too beaten to do anything. For you, it was utter torture. To see the man you loved, the man whose laughter and mere presence brought so many smiles to those in the paddock, the man who never knew when to give up, look so futile and disappointed? It hurt.

But he hurt you more.

Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?

It’s funny. Fate, he means. How it has a way of testing him, how it has a way of bringing his mind and him back to you. Always you.

“Has anyone seen Max and Y/N? They were supposed to arrive a while ago, are they late? ”  

Instinctively, Daniel turns. It’s almost pathetic really. How just the sound of your name catches his attention and has him whipping around, his eyes searching for you. How you unwittingly made him into your own lapdog.

You aren’t there, though, so he keeps his head down and ignores the questioning look his girlfriend sends him.

In the final few weeks, and perhaps even months, of your relationship, Daniel hadn’t been kind on you. He became bitter, spiteful, even jealous. To him, you just didn’t understand the weight on his shoulder, the pressures he had to face. But how could you? Despite all your protests and pleading, he was shutting you out of his life, bit by bit.

Every time you came over, it ended with screaming matches and you leaving with tears in your eyes. Daily visits from you turned into weekly check-ins. He started to turn his head away from you when you tried to kiss his cheek. Those turned into brusque hand squeezes. His texts, too, became sparse and dry. He recoiled from you when you were around.

He could still remember the heartbreak on your face when he told you he wanted to break up. "It's for both of our own good," he mumbled. "I need to focus on racing. You should have a life outside of me."

It was a bitter end, and to this day, Daniel still regrets not putting up enough of a fight. How stupid he had been, to think that without you, he could give his 100% to racing. How stupid he had been, to think of you as a distraction.

He can’t imagine how stupid he must appear to you now, showing up on Sunday with a new girlfriend on his arm.

Don't you call him baby

“You sure you’re okay?”

You smooth down your dress for the umpteenth time, breathing out a nervous sigh as you smile back at Max, who glances at you in slight concern. His press officer is fussing over the both of you, the paddock entrance looming both terrifyingly and excitingly ahead.

It’s about to be your first public appearance with Max, and your first public appearance at a Formula 1 grand prix since… Well, since your relationship with Daniel ended.

It’s been a rough few months. It took time, getting used to Daniel’s absence. You hadn’t realised just how much of your life had revolved around his being; it became painful to even step foot in the paddock, to even switch on the television to catch up on the latest grand prix.

Even worse was the public scrutiny. You and Daniel had always been open about your relationship, frequently sharing bits and pieces of your life together on each of your social medias. So it was no wonder than when you both stopped posting each other, and when you took down all your posts with him, that fans knew something was up.

Things hadn’t been easy. But Max had made it better. What started as a friendly reaching out turned into a heartachingly romantic and sweet courting, and now, he was your boyfriend.

You smile at Max, reaching up to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. You can hear a flurry of cameras snapping away, and you resist glancing at them, choosing instead to focus on your boyfriend. At your peck, Max ducks his head, as if suddenly shy despite the two of you having dated for going on 3 months now. Still, the small grin on his face tells you all you need to know.

“I’ll be fine,” you say as you slip your hand into his, and give a nod to his press officer. Max’s thumb smooths over your knuckles, and you finally feel yourself relax. You look into his eyes, and in this moment, you know: You’re happy.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, baby.”

We're not talking lately

Everyone notices when you enter the paddock.

Not only because it’s the first time in months that you’ve appeared at a Grand Prix, but because you have Max Verstappen beside you. With his arm around your waist.

“What’s happening?” his girlfriend asks, craning her neck to peer at the paddock entrance. “Did someone just arrive?”

“It’s Max,” a passing journalist calls, as he hastens towards the paddock entrance himself. “With Y/N!”

Daniel can’t help himself. Really, he can’t.

It happens before he can stop himself. He’s getting up and pulling his hand from his girlfriend and his feet are taking himself over to you as if they have a mind of their own. As if they still remember that it's where he’s meant to be. By your side.

The crowd doesn’t part for him. Not anymore. He finds himself standing on the outskirts of the gathering group, watching from afar as you bashfully smile for the many snapping cameras, and cling onto Max a little tighter, as the Red Bull driver nods politely at the journalists swarming you.

“Alright, alright, let us through, please,” he hears Max say, “Let my girl have some space, yeah?”

Something akin to jealousy rears its ugly head.

Then the horde of people are moving, and some are finally beginning to notice Daniel.

“Danny!” “Daniel, over here, please!” “How’re you feeling today, Daniel?” “Daniel, how does it feel that Max is dating your ex-girlfriend?”

The question has him reeling, and he can only stare at the waiting journalist incredulously. What a ridiculous fucking question. He has half a mind to charge at the dickhead and throw a punch that will send the cunt into a coma for weeks-

“Look, mate, leave us alone, yeah? Daniel, how’re you doin’?”

Max claps a good-natured hand on Daniel’s back, steering him away from the throng of journalists and photographers, who groan before turning their attention to Fernando, who’s just gotten out of his car.

Max’s friendliness momentarily stuns him, and all he can manage out is a half-convincing “Good, good” in return. This seems to satisfy Max enough, though, because then he’s smiling and nodding and rubbing Daniel’s shoulders.

It’s at this moment Daniel realises you’re still here.

He glances back at you, trailing behind him and Max.

You’re just as pretty as ever, he thinks to himself. It’s almost as if nothing had changed. Like you’re still the one he walked into the paddock with, like you’re waiting for him to finish a conversation with Max, not the other way around.

You don’t even look his way.

“…so then I told Charles, ‘No way, there’s no way you’re convincing Carlos that!’, and then, you know what he said? Really, it’s hilarious, he-”

Max stops his rambling midway, leaning down to listen to something you whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna head to the garage first, okay?” Daniel hears you mumble, “I’ll see you later, baby.”

Then Max tilts your head up and presses a kiss on your mouth.

It’s at this moment that Daniel can’t help but feel a little foolish. Actually, more than a little. He feels stupid, downright idiotic standing here with his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. Trying to pretend like everything was alright.

The worst part of it all, is that you don’t seem fazed at all. To you, it’s like he’s just another driver you bump into ever-so-often. You don’t seem to care about him. It’s like he and the weight of your shared history don’t even exist. Like it never did.

The sight of you walking away from him – again – pains him more than he thought it would. He can’t bear to lose you again, not when he’s still so fucking in love with you.

Soo he darts his hand out and grabs your wrist, and you whip around, eyes wide and stunned, and Daniel feels Max halt beside him, watching him intently.

And you’re looking at him now. Finally, you’re looking at him.

His eyes roam yours, trying to find a hint of familiarity, hoping desperately that he’ll find the same yearning and aching he feels for you reflected in your eyes.

“Don't you call him what you used to call me,” he whispers. Pleading with you.

Something in you seems to soften, and there’s a flash of pain in your eyes, but it's one that is quickly replaced with anger.

You wrench your hand from his grip and shove him away, storming off as Max follows you, casting an indecipherable look at Daniel in the process. Daniel watches as Max catches up to you, and he watches as you let him cradle you in his arms.

But it’s not your anger that hurts the most.

It’s the fact that you never once looked back at him.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo imagine #f1 #red bull racing #max verstappen fanfic #˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing #꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1

[darnell-la]

Knock you up.

word count: 2.2k

pairing: perv!delusional!Eddie Munson x innocent!bratty!reader

warning: CNC, hair pulling, choking, stalking, perving, angry/hard sex, whining, defenseless, mention of drugging reader, non-con-face cuming while sleeping, age gap, etc.

WE DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY COPIES OF OUR STORIES!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

God knows Eddie is a sick bastard. Never a day in his life since 9th grade has he not jerked off to some random thought or woman. Usually, it would be y/n. The girl he’s been crushing on since she started high school.

Munson was a senior when y/n arrived at the school. She was the cutest little thing he’d ever seen. The way she dressed, the way she looked and all the way up to the way she acted was perfect to him.

She wasn’t a child, and she was pretty mature for her age. The only thing about her that makes Eddie a creep, is how innocent she looks.

Y/n seems like a girl who wouldn’t drink unnecessarily, have unnecessary sex, miss classes or school, or do anything Eddie might have done his first year in school.

The innocent girl is now a senior and in the same class as Eddie. He’s failed 3 times, but this year has to be his last. He has to go wherever y/n plans to. He can’t just let her go.

All the years of walking past y/n and occasionally hanging out with her, he could never get her to feel as comfortable around him as he wanted.

Maybe that was his fault though, because he’d always pressured the poor girl to smoke with him, knowing she’d knock out every time.

He hadn’t used her body like he’d dreamed of when she would be knocked out, but he definitely did jerk off until he came on her face. He’d slip her tiny skirts up to take a smell of that cunt.

He could never get passed that point. Not even to free her tits or maybe eat her till she cums because he’d cum just from the smell of her.

After all these years of uncomfortable situations, y/n decided to tell Eddie, their senior year, that she was moving in different directions of friends. She offered to hang out occasionally, but he didn’t like that.

Eddie threw a fit and her neck ended up wrapped in his hand. He said some very nasty things, rather that was calling her “My fucking slut,” or saying “If you keep makin’ me wait, I’ll take it from you,”.

This was a couple of months ago, and since then, y/n hasn’t spoken a word to him. She can’t look at him or talk about him. He’s done too much.

“Y/n, just talk to me! I-It’s been so long,” Eddie stalked behind y/n as she walked through this surprisingly big school. “I don’t want to, Eds,” she said as she began walking up the stairs.

“Please, princess, I’m sorry, okay? I really am, I just- I just needed you,” Eddie said, aching that his baby girl couldn’t even look into his eyes. “Why do you need me? You’re like 21 Eddie. I just turned 18,” y/n rolled her eyes as she hit the top of the stairs.

Of course, y/n had a crush on Eddie since she was a freshman, but over time, she’s met other people. She’s never gone far because she’s had this voice in her mind saying Eddie. She could only be for Eddie.

Now that her feelings died down, she’s been getting better with letting these college boys make out with her. Maybe even finger her, but she’s never given to them or had sex.

Eddie of course knows about this, which makes him furious. She’s never told him about her feelings, but it’s not hard to see a shy girl.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that. We both know you love that. I’m mature and strong and can take so good care of you,” Eddie kept following the girl. She’s just trying to get to her class. She can’t have this conversation right now.

“I don’t need to take care of Eddie! I’m an adult,” y/n grew annoyed. “You’re not a fucking adult! You’re still going and need protecting,” Eddie’s delusional thoughts got out.

“Fuck off, Munson,” y/n finally got out. Eddie’s face and attitude about this situation, change right after her response to him pouring his heart out. This fucking brat.

Eddie quickly ran up behind y/n and grabbed her, causing her books to fall out of her hand. “Eddie, what the hell! Get off of me!” She yelled as she fought. They went at him for quite some time, but sadly, her bag ended up on the floor and she ended up pinned against the lockers by her neck.

“Calm down!” Eddie huffed in her face. As much as he loves the fight, he wants to set her straight. “Eddie, stop,” y/n whined as she kicked, but that didn’t bother him. “Stop it, y/n,” he moved his head inches away from her face, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s just acting up!

Eddie pulled her off of the locker and then slammed her back into it, knocking the wind out of her. “You do this do yourself. It’s all you! If you would just shut up, keep your head down, and listen, you’d be fine,” Eddie’s mind started racing.

“But no. You walk around her, actin’ single and open when you’re not. I fucking calmed you! I came on your pretty little face every chance I got. You’re marked,” Eddie spilled his secrets.

“N-No,” y/n didn’t believe him. “Oh, yes, and I think you I would. Just look at me, baby,” Eddie said as he began slowly grinding himself on her. She moved her face to the side after his lips touched hers, but that didn’t stop him from moving back into her face.

“You do something to me, and you know it. That’s why you let me hang out with you at such a young age. You’re a fucking tease, and you’ve been teasing me for far too long,” Eddie said

Seconds later, Eddie threw the poor girl to the ground. She’s been such a brat. She needs to be taught. He can’t go through this life of not stuffing her like one of her stuffed animals.

“Eddie, we’re at school!” Y/n yelled whispered as she tried backing up, but he soon got on top of her. “Good. Let them watch me take your innocence. Let them see that the freak is the only one to fill this bratty cunt,” Eddie whispered in her ear before tugging at her clothes.

Eddie turned the poor girl around, hurting her knees, but he couldn’t care less. He’ll take care of her when he takes her home.

Y/n begged, hoping no one would hear them and come out to see this mess, but him on the other hand. He wants that. He wants them to watch her so corrupted on his cock. They need to see.

“Please, Eddie,” y/n’s eyes began to water. She should have known this would happen. She’s even dreamt and prayed for something like this to happen years ago, but now, she doesn’t know. Does she still feel the same?

“Fucking Christ, y/n. You’re such a fucking hassle,” Eddie forced the weak girl's skirt to her mid-through. “These fucking panties don’t make this better,” Eddie chuckled, seeing how puffy her cunt was. Her pretty wet cunt.

“I’m gonna fuck into this pretty thing while you keep it down. All you gotta do, baby, is keep it down,” Eddie whispered in the girl's ear as he slowly pulled her panties to the side.

He’s always wanted to fuck her in her uniform. After she made the cheer team, he just had to fuck her in this outfit.

“D-Don’t touch there,” y/n stuttered as Eddie reached into his jeans. “Oh, baby — You know I’ll do more than just touch you,” Eddie stroked his already so painfully hard cock. So painful.

“I’m gonna rip you in two in these high school hallways,” Eddie said before spitting in his hand to get himself wet. She’s wet enough, but he can’t take his time fucking her. He’s already around the corner from cuming.

“You ready baby?” Eddie asked, which remained y/n, she didn't even fight anymore. “No!” She began moving and giving Eddie a he’d time, once again hoch pissed him off quickly.

“Fuck, y/n! You’re so damn hardheaded!” Eddie grabbed the fighting girl's head, making her arch her back. “Ow!” Y/n whined. Eddie brought a heavy hand to her ass, slapping it a few times to shut her up.

“If you keep fuckin’ with me, I’ll give you a harder time at my house. Trust me, you will not handle a cock in your ass,” Eddie threatened. The girl didn’t completely stop fighting back, but she did calm down. She still whined, knowing she couldn’t stop this. Apart from her doesn’t want to stop it.

“Good girl,” Eddie Said as he slowly began pushing into the whining girl. “Agh, fuck! Fuck, you’re s-so fucking tight,” Eddie slightly moaned as he got deeper and deeper into her.

Y/n’s legs began to shake as the taller dude began thrusting his hips. “Yeah, just like that,” Eddie slowly moved in and out of y/n as she shook uncontrollably with her sweetest whines.

“So fucking wet, baby. I could drink you for days,” Eddie said in her ear as her clot began to swell. “Eddie,” she whined, eyes rolled back and fucked out like he wanted her. He’s waited so long to see his princess like this.

“Mhm, you like it? Like went Eddie fucks his cock into your innocent pussy?” Eddie kept his mouth so close to her ear as she slowly began rocking her hips back. “Yeah — So fucking desperate for a cock. Always knew you were a slut. Fuckin’ told ya,” Eddie spoke as he sped up.

“Aah!” Y/n moaned, trying to keep herself down as her cunt got louder and Eddie’s thrust got more aggressive. He wants to risk it all. “C’mon, baby! Let it out. They then hear you,” Eddie encouraged as he pulled her head back more.

“Let it out!” He demands with a slap on her bare ass. “No!” Y/n still thought she had a say in anything. “You’re gonna regret it,” Eddie growled in her ear before pushing her face to the ground.

The huge man kept a hand on her face, causing her back to arch then grabbed her waist. With that, he began to fuck into her inexperienced cunt like a fuck doll. He has to do it. He gave her no choice.

“Fuck, Eddie!” She cried out as her ass clapped back into Eddie’s. “Yeah,” Eddie growled, losing control of the way he fucks into her. He almost forgot she hadn’t done this before.

“Want me to slow down? Is my cock too much for your fucked our cunt?” Eddie asked as he leaned closer to her face. “Want daddy to hurry up and breed this little pussy, and make you his little girl forever?” Eddie asked Y/n, knowing she couldn’t respond back. He’s so good at this.

“Yeah, I know you do. You wanna be trapped with me. Want me to knock you up on school grounds for everyone to see,” Eddie felt himself getting close as y/n whined at the twitch of his cock.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie’s voice cracked as he slammed into her cunt to make her feel it all. She didn’t know how, but just at that, she came. She couldn’t hold it anymore. She tried her best, but she had to let it go.

“Ah huh! Ah huh!” Eddie’s thrusts stuttered until he finally buried himself so deep, he was sure she’d become pregnant. “Oh fuuck!” Eddie groans loudly, surprised that no one has come out yet.

“Oh my god,” y/n moaned as her juice leaned all over her skirt. “Oh fuck,” Eddie chuckled, feeling his cock twitching in her walls. He knows he’s not as empty as he wants to be. As soon as he takes her home, he’ll empty the rest.

“Fuck,” y/n whined low as Eddie slowly pulled out and y/n’s lower body slumped on the ground at how weak she was. Eddie admired the cum leaking out of her plumped cunt. He even thought about eating her out.

“P-Please,” y/n aimlessly said, so fucked out, she will not be able to walk. “I know, baby. It’s a lot. But remember how bad you were. You don’t get to rest today,” Eddie said in her ear.

Eddie fixed y/n and himself up before pulling y/n to her feet slowly. “You’re coming home with me, okay?” Eddie asked. “Okay,” y/n said low, wanting all this taking care of that he mentioned. “Good answer, princess,” Eddie kissed the girl's cheek.

After coming home from a long fuck session in the middle of their school hallway, Eddie couldn’t help himself. He let hit sweet girl rest next to him on his bed after he cleaned her up.

She begged him too much for him to say no. Y/n surpassingly gave him a peck, causing his eyes to water. He finally made it. All the days he’s stalked, perved, and even punished her not too long ago, he made it to the point he wanted to get to. Which is with her forever.

#18+ #18+ content #18+ fic #18+ minors dni #18+ only #18+ post #smut #pure smut #cnc k!nk #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #delusional #delulu #stranger things smut #stranger things #dom!eddie munson #innocent!reader #choking #rough cnc #rough kink #roughfuck #rough daddy

[facioleeknow]

Hi ele! Ive been following for a while but haven’t sent any requests. Sooo, im here with one:

Dom!Husband!Hyunjin x Sub!Fem!Reader

Reader and hyunjin were cuddling, until things started to get heated.

Tysm!

First but not last ° Hwang Hyunjin

You're needy, really needy so Hyunjin decides to haul you on top of his lap and let you take what you want.

Wc: 993                Genre: smut, 18+ ONLY

Tw: groping, creampie, unprotected sex, sub reader, dirty talk, riding, humping, first time on top, crying, reader cums quickly, sub space, hints at after care, let me know if I missed something!

AN: Reblogs and comments are always welcome and very highly appreciated! If you want to be tagged on my work go on my masterpost!

Lazy Sundays with your husband were the best. Laying down on the couch, watching stupid tv shows and cuddling together- your skin on his, his warmth enveloping you. Unfortunately these types of days were very rare. Both of your schedules were very hectic so whenever you had free time you always decided to stay in and bask in each other's presence.

The drama on the tv had been playing for hours, it was an old one that you and Hyunjin had particularly liked and rewatched religiously. Hyunjin's big, warm hand ran up and down your naked back under your t-shirt. It was something he did habitually, nothing new, but there was something about his touch that day. His fingertips sent sparks through your whole body. Goosebumps rose on your back in an irregular pattern. Sweat collected on the back of your neck and your breath was shallow. It was impossible that your husband hadn't noticed but he remained focused on the tv. 

Your panties had begun to stick to your core uncomfortably and not even the squishing and rubbing of your plush thighs did anything to alleviate your ache.

When you started to squirm and wriggle, Hyunjin turned to look at you.

“What is it, my love?” his voice and his eyes were sweet as always when he talked to you. A whine escaped your lips, your head buried in his chest.

“Jinnie, I need you,” you whined and panted.

“You need me baby?” 

Your lower lip trembled and your eyes welled with tears, it was a pitiful sight, but Hyunjin loved it when you got desperate like this. You nodded.

“Then come get what you want, my sweet,” Hyunjin hadn't even finished his sentence that he was hauling you into his lap and pushing your clothed pussy onto his hard length. Your lips formed an O as you felt him pressed up onto you.

“But I've never…” your confidence wavered.

“It's time you learn, you're a big girl, baby,” Hyunjin saw the insecurity in your eyes, “you're gonna be fine baby, just do what feels good for you and you'll do great,” he reassured you.

You hummed at his words, he never would have lied to you. With that your husband pressed your pelvises back together again, your pussy pulsed and gushed. With small uncertain movements, you started grinding on him, back and forth. His dick twitched in his boxers and grew even harder, a wet patch of precum stained his underwear. 

Hyunjin's eyes twinkled with love as he gazed up at you. You were beautiful, like a queen on her throne. 

The movement of your hips had started to get more and more frantic, arousal and pleasure clouded your mind.

“Shit, slow down, my love, you're gonna hurt yourself,” his voice was shaky, the proof of the unfathomable pleasure you were making him feel. His hands gripped the juncture between your torso and your thighs, his fingers digged into the flesh of your ass, effectively stopping your movements.

“Hyunjinnie, inside, please, I need you inside, please, inside, inside,” you kept bubbling, your forehead resting on Hyunjin's shoulder. Your husband gently patted your ass and lifted you up and shaky legs to free his dick from its confines. When he finally sheathed himself inside you, a high pitched cry came out of your mouth and he sighed in pleasure. Your pussy hugged him perfectly, your velvety warm walls felt almost comforting to him.

“You can move, baby, try rocking your hips back and forth.*

Hyunjin didn't even have to repeat himself that you started to furiously hump him, searching for your Hugh and your high only. Small ‘huh’s were the only sounds coming from you while Hyunjin threw his head back and panted loudly at your actions. Your slick dripped down his balls and the wet sounds you were making echoed and bounced of the walls.

“My little lover humping me like a dumb puppy. You're making me feel so good, do you feel good, my muse?” Hyunjin's voice was husky and sensual, it went straight to your pussy and made a ring of white cream collect around Hyunjin's girth.

“I can't, Jinnie, I can't,” you whined pathetically.

“Aw, baby, do you need me to touch your little clit? Get it all wet as well? Rub you until you're all sore?” You didn't have to answer, he wasn't looking for an answer. His long and warm fingers found your clit and began rubbing and pinching roughly just how you liked. The pleasure downed all you all at the same time and in an instant you could feel your high approaching. It was one of the fastest and most powerful orgasms you had ever reached, never in your life you had gotten so worked up so fast but then again never in your life had you been on top. 

Your humping sped up and Hyunjin knew you were close, after the years spent together you were like an open book to him. The hand that was resting on waist reached under your t shirt and pinched your right nipple, hard. You wailed.

Your high washed over you in mere seconds, leaving you panting and exhausted, but Hyunjin hadn't cum and you had to stay awake. 

“Jinnie please, cum in me, please I want it inside, I want to be full of you,” you babbled tiredly. Hyunjin started thrusting into you strongly, you could feel him hit your cervix every time. The pleasure mixed with the pain and you slipped into that dimension where everything is made of cotton and the world feels soft. 

Your husband reached your high shortly after you, his cum shot deep into your womb and filled you up to the brim. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you kept repeating. Hyunjin's tired hands lifted up and started petting your hair lovingly, trying to ground you.

“It's all right baby, you're safe with me. Let's get you cleaned up okay?”

#straykidsland #kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #ask #anon #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut

[lechemoon]

the one where spencer reid doesn't want to be just your friend

spencer reid x f reader

wc: ~1.8k

prompt: "i don't want to be your friend. i want to fall in love with you."

no warnings apply, however if i miss any please let me know :) additionally, if someone is able to identify the prompt list that the prompt is from, i would appreciate it! i can't seem to find the list </3

a/n: still on my slow rewatch, i haven't finished season 5 but i know for a fact that long-haired jesus reid is coming to an end, so this fic is for him specifically hehe

-

spencer shuts his mouth immediately, and regrets ever having the ability to even speak at all. the way you’re looking at him makes him want to curl up into himself.

“that was rude. all i asked was if you wanted to grab lunch.” you stuff your phone in your pocket aggressively, about facing the opposite direction from him. 

“wait, wait, wait.” he grabs you by the crook of your elbow, slightly yanking to keep you from walking away from him but not so much that you tip over and lose your balance. it’s now or never, and spencer will be damned if he lets you walk away without even trying to make you understand what he’s been trying to tell you.

you groan, and he hates that he can hear the frustration and confusion emitting from you. hates it because he knows how it feels- he’s been feeling it for months. along with this gnawing feeling in his stomach and a clawing feeling in his chest and an ache in his heart (but he’ll ignore that for now- he’s got things to do and words to say).

you move your free hand to run it through the top of your head, brushing any stray hairs from your face. you let out a quick breath from your mouth, and turn your head towards spencer. you make your body so that it’s still mostly facing away from him slightly. “what? you’re gonna explain why you’re suddenly just changing it up on me? being rude to me out of nowhere? if we can’t be friends right now then i don’t think there’s a reason for us to talk outside of work-“

“i don’t-!” he clears his throat because he doesn’t mean to raise his voice in the middle of the work day. his eyes scan the room quickly, and he finds himself thankful that most of the floor has gone out for lunch. those that are here still seem to have either not heard him or are choosing to ignore his outburst. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to shout… can we- can we talk somewhere more private?”

when you don’t show any signs of saying yes, he pulls out the big guns. releasing your arm, he takes hold of your hand instead. gently, unsure. his bottom lip juts out only slightly, just enough that he knows he’s sure you’ve seen it. and he’s sure, because your eyes land on his lips for a second. “please?”

“ugh, fine.” you shake your hand from his. “there’s no one in penelope’s office,” you say as you begin to walk in the direction of your coworker's office. you don’t bother looking back at spencer until your hand finds the door handle. “why are you still sitting? come on! i don’t have all day and i have to grab a snack after this.”

grabbing his bag and getting up from his chair, spencer makes his way (clumsily) to follow you out the door. “i can explain myself,” he says to your back while you both trek your way to penelope’s office.

he practically hears your eyes roll when you respond with, “i’m sure you can.” you turn left because you accidentally lead the both of you the wrong way, so now you’re taking the scenic route.

“i think we took the-“

“i know,” you cut him off, finally reaching penelope’s door. you open it and aren’t surprised you find it unlocked. neither of you are surprised to find that all the computer screens are locked as well. she wouldn’t be penelope if she didn’t secure her babies.

“okay, we have a few minutes before penelope enters her lair.” you turn to him, hands on your hips and tapping your foot impatiently. “well?”

it’s spencer’s turn to brush his fingers through his hair. he knew what he wanted to say before this- had a whole 20 second speech prepared that ended with a small lie of him not actually being hungry. why couldn’t he think of it now? 

i’m sorry. I’m not hungry right now so i didn’t want to get sandwiches with you.

i didn’t mean to tell you to leave me alone like that, or use that tone of voice. or to call you nosey.  

in fact, i don’t think i ever want you to leave me alone. i’d eat a hundred sandwiches if it meant spending lunch with you.

“spencer?”

when he takes a good look at you, he forgets everything he wanted to say. “u-uhm,” he bites his lower lip. “i-i’m sorry, i usually… i usually don’t forget what i want to say.” not a lie, not a truth. he has fragments of what he wants to say dangling in his brain, but no way to string them all together.

you smack your lips and cross your arms. “reid, really? you tell me to leave you alone, then you tell me to talk privately- why are you pulling my leg?”

it hits him when he remembers you saying if we cant be friends-

“i don’t want to be your friend,” he tells you directly, looking into your eyes. it takes everything in him not to break eye contact. it gets harder to not look away when you’re staring right back at him with eyes expectant. waiting. almost impatient looking.

and they change slightly. now he sees hurt, worry, sadness. your foot stops tapping. “you… you don’t want to be… friends?” you cross your arms, and spencer knows you’re getting defensive and closed-off. you’re getting ready to leave the room. 

but his hands find your upper arms and slides down them, releasing you from your knot and landing at your wrist. he turns them upward, and rubs his thumbs against them in small circles. “i-i don’t want to be just your friend,” he says again, but with more intention.

now he sees something new in you- confusion, curiosity. “just my friend?”

“not just your friend,” he repeats. “I feel like… no. i think i-i want to… to fall in love with you,” he says finally, and his face feels hot and his throat feels dry. 

shit, he thinks, that’s not what i was going to say. i didn’t mean to say love! like would have sufficed just fine!

what he should have said was that he liked you more than he would any other person, that you made him feel like he was floating or that he was flying.

spencer feels his stomach drop when you don’t respond to him right away, and he lets his hands begin to fall from your wrist. “that came out wr-“

but you grab his hands into your own before physical contact can even break. “you what?” 

“i mean- i did want to be your friend, i do want to be your friend it’s just that i,” he doesn’t know where his sentence is leading but he knows that he wants you to know that wanting to be with you wasn’t his intention at first. “i think… i think you’re great. you’re smart and you’re pretty, and sometimes i notice that you match your socks to your blouse- why are you looking at me like that?”

you're biting your bottom lip to hold back your smile, but the sparkle in your eyes and the crinkle at the corners give you away. you’re happy- nervous, but happy. at least, that’s what spencer speculates when he takes a look at you. 

“i feel like i should be mad at you,” you admit, letting go of his hands so that you can rub yours together. penelope’s cave is cold. “liking someone isn’t an excuse to snap at them the way you did to me earlier.”

“i know, and i’m so sorry-“

you cut him off again. “let me finish.” and his lips shut.

not knowing what to do with his now vacant hands, he stuffs them in his pockets and fingers the lint that has made its way into them. 

“do you know why i ask you out for lunch all the time?” you ask him, pointing one of your index fingers to his chest. 

spencer shakes his head. “because you… like the company and camaraderie?”

“i like your company,” the finger against his chest pushes in slightly, and you take a step back so you don’t have to continue to crane your neck at a weird angle to look up at him. “i like you.”

a confession, spencer thinks to himself, wasn’t on his list of things he expected to happen today. “me?” in attempts to keep a grin from forming, he purses his lips together. it doesn’t help, because now he’s grinning with his teeth in full display.

he tilts his head to the side in disbelief. “r-really?”

“yes, really!” a new third party squeals excitedly from behind. 

both you and spencer bring your attention towards the door. spencer shouldn’t be surprised to find penelope in her own doorway, but he is. and so it seems are you. 

penelope dances in, doing a happy little shake as she prances past the two of you to set her things and then herself down. neither of your eyes leave her as she settles herself in. spencer feels like his eyes are as wide as they can possibly be and he wonders if you’re feeling the same way, because when he looks at you he thinks that he’s sporting the same look of a deer caught in the headlights.

no one says anything. only the sound of a pastry being released from it’s parchment prison by penelope fills the room until you finally say, “how long have you been standing there?”

the tech beauty of the team rips a piece of her danish to pop it in her mouth and chews on it for a few seconds, exhaling happily when the taste finally hits her tongue. she swallows before she give you her answer. “i’ve been here since…,” she checks her naked wrist as if she were checking the time, and then looks up to smirk at spencer, “since the boy genius said he wanted to- what was it again, dr. reid?”

taken aback by being thrown into the conversation so suddenly, spencer stumbles on his words. “u-uhm, i uh, i said i-”

“ah that’s right,” penelope smiles, setting her pastry down and dusting her hands off. “you said you would like to fall in love with our dear friend here?” she points to you and winks. 

if spencer’s eyes could get any wider and if his face could find a darker shade of pink he knows they would. 

“so,” penelope crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. her eyes haven’t left you, and spencer is thankful that he doesn’t have to face the intensity he sees in penelope. “i see your dream’s coming true, love bug,” she says to you, and spencer sees you bite your thumbnail to try and hide your smile. 

you finally look at spencer, and he feels his stomach flutter. “i really, really like you spencer,” you say to him to finish off your interrupted conversation.

“oh yeah,” penelope adds, nodding excitedly, “she really does, doctor.”

-

a/n: thank you for reading <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #my fic #mgg #matthew gray gubler

[btsgotjams27]

bust a move | jjk

✨ title: bust a move | ✨ pairing: jk x f!reader ✨ genre/au: smut, pwp, married!au, parents!au ✨ word count: 825 | ✨ rating: m/18+ MDNI ✨ summary: you finally return the favor. ✨ warnings: kissing, groping, oral (m. receiving), handjob, he comes in her mouth (but she spits it out) ✨ a/n: i blame ck jk for this horny word vomit, and also thanks to ck jk for bringing out of my smut hiatus (err--i'm also a little rusty, so forgive me). this is definitely not beta'd, so i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] previous > busted again

You hum, “G’morning,” inching towards Jungkook, your hand moving to his crotch, but he resists your touch. “What’s wrong?” Brows furrowed and a pout on your face.

He scans your face, eyes dropping down to your chest that’s barely covered by your silk pajama top. “I’m, uh, wet.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “You mean you had a wet dream?” He avoids your gaze, embarrassed at the fact that he still gets them occasionally. “It happens. You have a dick. It’s only normal.”

Jungkook sighs, embarrassment written all over his face as he hides under the covers. You follow suit, joining him under the duvet. “I’m just–I’ve been really horny lately, that’s all.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoot closer, cupping his face, staring into those starry doe eyes. “Did you know that you can have sex with me anytime you want, and I will probably never deny you?”

He grunts, closing his eyes for a moment, imagining all the things he’d do to you. “Mm…don’t tell me that.”

With another wiggle toward him, your body soaks up his warmth along with the heat that’s encapsulated underneath the duvet. It’s early. 6 AM. Lucky for you, your two littles have decided to sleep in, but you have other things on your mind—mainly returning the favor since he wouldn’t let you suck him off that one time in the bathroom.

“Will you…” You pause, your fingers drawing invisible stars into his sculpted chest, then trace down the center to his chiseled abs. “Let me…you know,” you say softly with a smirk on your face.

“Baby, I’m all yours. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

Your thumb hooks into the elastic of his sweats, pulling them down over his hips along with his briefs, letting his cock spring free. A soft hiss leaves him when you wrap your hand around his shaft. Stroking him a few times, you love watching him revel at your touch. The noises and staggered breaths has you clenching around nothing.

Jungkook remembers that he can touch you too, kiss you even. His hand grips your waist, then moves to grab your ass, kneading them with desire and lust. The ache for him builds within you, but this is about him.

You bring your lips to his, not letting his moan escape, for fear of little ones bursting through the door. The two of you don’t need to be busted again.

He breaks away from the kiss, molding his lips to the column of your neck and collarbones.

“Kook…” you whimper. “Let me take care of you.”

Pulling back, he sighs with a chuckle, “Okay—sorry, I got a little carried away.”

You draw the duvet, uncovering the two of you. Peering at the door, you make sure it’s closed. But for good measure, you jump off the bed, running to lock the door—just in case.

Running back, you push Jungkook on his back, crawling on top of him, legs on either side. His cock is erect, ready to go. Your mouth envelops his length, sucking the tip as your hand holds his shaft, pumping and twisting at the same time. His fingers comb through your hair, grasping it lightly. You look up and his dark eyes are focused on your mouth then flicks up to meet yours.

He sucks in a deep breath when you take as much as you can in your mouth, drool glistening as you’re bobbing up and down his hard cock. You hasten your pace, licking and sucking like your life depends on it. Popping off, you rub his tip against your tongue. He’s throbbing, quivering. He’s ready to topple over. You take him in your mouth again.

Jungkook sits up. “Baby—baby, I’m gonna cum. I know you don’t like it when I cum in your mouth.”

You love how considerate he is, but you’re mentally prepared for this. “It’s okay. Cum in my mouth,” you say, going right back to your previous position.

Your eyes flick to his, witnessing the subtle ripple effect of pleasure course through his body. His chest heaving, abs tightening, cock throbbing. With a strangled groan, he spills seed into your mouth. It’s warm, salty to taste, but you continue milking him for all he has.

He opens his eyes with worry because the last time he came in your mouth, you gagged not being prepared for him. But you’re confident and composed, calmly getting up, heading to the bathroom sink to spit out the cum in your mouth.

Standing at the threshold, a huge grin spreads from ear to ear and you open your mouth. “See, I’m totally fine,” you chuckle, heading back to bed. You place a kiss on his lips.

“You’re—” Jungkook grunts, “You’re too much for me sometimes.”

You sit beside him. “I’m too much for you?”

He nods, kissing you again.

And like clockwork, the handle on your door is rattling, busting the pair of you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

[keikikait]

ᴋɴᴜᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ (ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ)

this is the epilogue to my strangers story, which you can find on my masterlist

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 1.4k

summary: after your fight with gojo, he goes to your apartment to explain himself

warnings: TW: DEATH, talk of stalking, angst??????

a note: this is the epilogue

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch I would fall in love with you faster.”

“Fine. Go with him. See if I fucking care. You’ll come crawling back to me after you realise he isn’t any different.”

Ever since you left him, and slammed the door in his face, Gojo hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

Gojo contemplated reaching out to you. To talk to you at work instead of just ignoring you, but he can’t do it. He wants you to grovel, to beg on your knees for his forgiveness, to admit you need him to protect you. Soon enough, he realised that you weren’t coming back. You were moving on and with Nanami of all people? You were supposed to be his, the toy he abandoned when he got bored. He was always content knowing that you’d always be on the top shelf when he wanted you again, free from the reach of any other man.

Gojo's heart, a tempest of turbulent feelings, refused to relinquish its claim on you. You were his, not Nanami’s. He felt something rising within him, a possessive urge to get you back, whether you liked it or not. Yet, the ache of unreciprocated longing gnawed at his resolve, leaving him suspended in a realm of uncertainty. He decided, after a while, to begin following you.

You never noticed him. You didn’t look around much. You felt safe walking alone through the streets of Tokyo, never turning around to see if anyone was following you. You were naïve, just how he liked you. Part of him knew this was wrong, to stalk his ex and peep into her windows when she wasn’t looking, but he was just protecting you! What if you got hurt? What if Nanami decided to hurt you? You were nothing without him, you couldn’t stand up for yourself. You needed Gojo, and he needed you.

He watched from the shadows as Nanami rejected you, claiming you weren’t girlfriend material. Gojo agreed, to an extent, but it did break his heart to watch you cry as you made your way home. He was so focused on Nanami, on the way he casually went back to eating as if you never existed, that he didn’t follow you home while you cried. You were vulnerable, and he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to start walking after you.

Gojo almost confronted Nanami. Almost. He thought it over and realised how hypocritical he would sound. He was angry at Nanami for rejecting you, yet he did the same thing. Gojo held your heart in his hands, promising he would take care of it, only to squish it under his boots when you pissed him off. He didn’t want you, not in the way you wanted him, but he hated to think about you with somebody else.

He grounded himself and began the walk to your apartment. Gojo was, although he would never admit it, miserable without you. He missed his baby, his girl, his doll, the one who would greet him eagerly in the evenings with a homecooked meal and a kiss. He missed holding you in his arms as you watched a cooking show, he missed the peaceful look on your face as you fell asleep in his arms.

Did he love you? Or did he love the idea of you in his head?

Emotions surged through Gojo’s body, filling him to the brim with a turbulent mix of longing and resentment. Suguru’s treachery had left him feeling broken and discarded, left behind to rot, and after that day he vowed to never love again. Love breeds hope, and hope breeds eternal misery. He started to resent himself, after all, he was the reason Suguru would never come back home. Gojo didn’t sleep for months after Suguru left. He waited up for him, hoping Suguru would come back and apologise, but he never did. He was so alone without Suguru, and he was so alone without you, too.

As Gojo nears your apartment building, he starts to realise that he and Suguru were always alike. They both abandoned someone they cared about, and Gojo wondered if Suguru felt as guilty as he did. Did Suguru miss him? Did Suguru ever love him the way you do?

He enters the code into the gate, pushes the door open, and walks up the stairs towards your apartment. He didn’t know what he was going to say to you. He couldn’t profess his love, it didn’t feel right, but maybe if he lied to you, you would stay. Maybe if he lied and told you he loved you, you would be naïve and gullible enough to believe him. 

He makes it up the last flight of stairs, heading down the long corridor. For the first time in a long time, he feels anxiety. He wants you to stay with him. He needs you. Did you need him anymore? He feels so powerless and weak, and he hates it. He shouldn’t be doing this, he should just move on and find another girl to toy with, but he couldn’t. Gojo, deep down, wished you two had never even met, because he was having a hard time forgetting and moving on. Or did he get you confused with Suguru? If Suguru hadn’t broken his heart, would he love you?

He turns the corner and stops in his tracks.

Your door is wide open.

Gojo knew you weren’t stupid enough to leave your door open. You were naïve, yes, but you weren’t dumb. He steps closer, and suddenly, all at once, his world comes crashing down.

You’re lying there, in your doorway, surrounded by a pool of your own blood. Your throat is slashed, practically ripped out, with claw marks decorating your legs, arms, and torso, as if you were mauled by wolves. 

For the first time since his fateful encounter with Suguru, Gojo cries. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, he drops to his knees, desperately reaching out to grasp you. With trembling hands, he pulls you close to his chest, clinging to the faint hope that somehow, against all odds, you might still be alive. He pushes your hair away from your face, matted with blood, and he cups your cheeks, shouting at you to wake up. To be his again.

He grabs you, holding you close, and notices that your heart is missing, ripped out of your chest, a gaping hole in its wake. 

As he holds you in his arms, fingers stained with the crimson hue of blood, fear grips his heart, a visceral reminder of the fragility of life. He holds your head up gently, terrified that if he were to let go, it would slip away and tumble off of your shoulders. His silent cries reverberate through the air, echoing the profound loss and longing that consumes him. The mere act of holding you close becomes an act of defiance against fate, a desperate attempt to defy the cruel hand that has torn you apart.

He pulls out his phone, his hands shaking as he dials 119, blood smearing on his phone and causing it to almost slip from his grasp. He holds the phone to his ear as he looks down at you, surrounded by blood, yet still so beautiful. You look almost at peace, as if in your final moments you were content with dying. Did you think of him in your final moments? 

As his gaze followed the widening circle of blood, he noticed something else in the periphery of his vision. It was a familiar sight, something akin to Megumi's Shikigami, its form wavering and shifting, almost as if it were made of smoke. It circled you, its ethereal eyes seeming to study your body intently.

In the haunting darkness, the wolves that had stalked your every step, their taunts echoing like eerie whispers, were cursed spirits, bound to the shadows. And Gojo, in all of his strength and power, had kept them at bay for so long. His mere presence was strong enough to protect you from the darkness that sought to consume you.

As he dialed another number, Nanami’s, he was certain now, he had fallen in love with you. He didn’t want to admit it then, he was too scared to fall in love, he didn’t want you to abandon him, to toss him aside as effortlessly as Suguru did. He had spent so long thinking that his fate was bound to Suguru, intertwined in the stars, that he didn't think about how he was treating you, stringing you along as he waited for Suguru to return to him.

He was so caught up in how he had failed Suguru that he didn't realise he had failed you, too.

Nanami answers the phone after the third ring, and as Gojo fumbles to get the words out, he realises he isn't the strongest after all.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

★taglist: @heijihattorisgf, @strxxberries, @sadmonke, @mo0nforme, @whereflowerswenttodie, @mwtsxri, @tuliptoot, @certainduckanchor, @softhrted, @mystarlightswiftt, @kaizestar (italics mean i couldn't tag you)

#keikiwrites #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #f!reader #gojo angst #jjk angst #✿: gojo! #tw: death #tw: blood

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Touch: The Following Autumn (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated/warning: 18+, whump, depiction of difficult childbirth Word Count: 2.4k

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Summary: Benedict holds you through the birth of your first child.

Benedict’s grasp is the only thing keeping you hanging on. The only thing you are trying to focus on as the rest of your body feels like it is being ripped apart. You have never known so much pain, such bone-deep, gnawing pain, and that it has gone on for eighteen hours is incomprehensible. But you are still conscious, and you are still fighting, because he needs you to. Because they both need you to.

He sits at your bedside, your hands clasped together so tightly for so long, they have both gone white and you can’t feel your fingers anymore. That is the least of your concerns as another contraction surges through you and you groan, worn too tired to scream anymore. You lean into your husband, your free hand clinging to him wherever you can grasp - his hair, his neck, the sleeve of his shirt. You claw at him as you fight for a shuddering inhale, the wave of pain feeling as if it can drown you.

He presses his lips to your forehead, his face desperately tired and pale too. “My darling,” he whispers. “Oh my love.” He has run out of the energy or creativity to say anything more. Not that he needs to. You just need to feel him close by.

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” the surgeon looks up from the sheet spread across your knees. “You must continue to push.” His voice is stern, but there is an undercurrent of sympathy. No one in this room thinks you are weak. They have all been with you, watching you suffer for nearly an entire day. 

You nod limply, trying to find your breath as Benedict smooths your hair back from your sweaty face with his free hand. On the opposite side of the bed, Violet leans in with a cool cloth and presses it to your neck. They are the only family members with you. Your parents were waylaid by bad weather on their return from the Continent, and will miss the birth of their first grandchild.

You just want to fall apart. You want to sink back into the pillows and grant yourself some rest. You felt your strength give out hours ago, but somehow you are still here, trembling, pushing with whatever mild response your muscles will give you, to help your child into the world. The fear is growing that they may be stillborn. Your water broke so long ago and they have been stuck in your body. But you refuse to give into despair, and you swear you can still feel them, straining within you, doing their part to break free. 

Now the surgeon is telling you to push. You don’t know what energy you are supposed to push with. There is none left in your body, none at all. The only place you can feel it is in Benedict’s hands, numb though your fingers are. There is strength in him, strength in your love, strength in your desire to meet your child. You will have to draw on that. It is all you have. 

Gritting your teeth and leaning into Benedict’s shoulder, you grate out a scream and try to channel everything you feel from him, down to your baby. It’s piercing, the ache you feel along your legs, down your spine, and all through your hips. You feel as if your bones are made of blades. You push with your body and your soul, anything you can offer, and collapse back against the pillows, breathing hard.

“Another,” The dreadful command from the foot of the bed makes you whimper. 

Dear god, you can’t. Your shoulders start to shake with tiny sobs that produce no tears. Benedict leans over you, never releasing your hand, caressing your forehead.

“I can’t,” you gasp, “Ben…I’m sorry…I can’t.” 

The fear in his eyes is palpable. His face is haggard, shadowed with stubble. He swallows hard, searching your face, desperately questing for what to say. 

Violet squeezes your arm beside you and you turn to look at her, now more grateful than ever that she is here. She is the only one who can truly understand what you are feeling. Her eyes are glistening with tears but burning with resolve simultaneously. 

“Y/n, dearest, you must let your mind go.” You stare back at her, confused. She presses on, her voice tight. “The pain exists only in your mind. Your body is always strong enough to do what it must. It is only your mind that is struggling.” Her words sink in, somehow making sense. She nods at you in encouragement. “Wait for the next contraction, and let your body push, but your mind must go.”

You give her the barest nod, your breath growing shallow, then turn back to look at Benedict above you. If there is anywhere that you can lose yourself, it’s into his silvery eyes, even though they are now filled with panic. 

He heard his mother. Intuitively, he knows what you are trying to do. He holds the side of your face, slender fingers framing your ear, and lowers to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Y/n,” he breathes. “Do you remember the snowstorm two years ago?” 

You lock into his eyes, trying to transport yourself back into memories, to leave your body behind you to work without your mind’s interference. You nod slightly against him, breathing hard and shallow through your nose.

“You were the reason I didn’t finish that damn landscape.” A small grin tugs at his lips. “I was going outside to paint but then I saw you with my family, having as much fun as the children. You were so beautiful, so carefree and strong. I had to get to know you. So I abandoned the painting and joined in.”

Your mind is beginning to float back. Entranced with the kaleidoscope of his irises, you remembered that cold day, the sting of the snow against your exposed wrists, the squeals of laughter from everyone involved.

“It turned out to be the right decision because the next day you walked straight into my arms in front of my easel.” 

You would grin at his cheekiness, but even your face has grown sore at this point.

“And from then on, you made me fall deeper and deeper. The whole season in London, I could barely breathe around you.” 

Light dances in his eyes, the same way it had when he would laugh with you on a promenade, or slip you a flute of champagne with a wink. 

“All I wanted was to be close to you. To hold you in my arms. I wanted it badly enough that I forced myself to dance with you. It was the only way I could feel you without causing a scandal.”

You remember the night of the Cowper ball, the heat and insistence of his grasp. You never allowed yourself to hope that it was desire, or that it was love. But it had been. He had loved you as long as you had loved him. A warm buoyancy starts to grow in your exhausted chest. You are always moved by the depth of your husband’s affection, but to hear him narrate your love story as he experienced it, is overwhelmingly beautiful.

He continues, his words whispering across your face. “Then once I had held you, I knew I needed to hold you for the rest of my life. I knew I had to marry you.”

You feel the familiar, horrible clench of pain start to notch up your spine; another contraction heaving its way through your body. A strangled noise rises from the back of your throat and Benedict releases your hand at last, bringing both of his to grip your shoulders. You cling back to him, scrabbling to clutch his arms, breathing faster.

Violet is beside you both, offering soothing words of encouragement, but they are lost to your ears. You try to do as she said, to separate your mind from your body, and stay lost in Benedict’s eyes. He keeps his face above yours, never pulling away, as you feel your body start to bear down and arc against the pillows.

“Y/n,” He raises his voice, commanding your attention. “I will always be here to hold you. Darling, you are not alone in this.”

You can feel the pain, gripping and searing, but fight to concentrate on Benedict and nothing else. The warm light in your chest continues to grow, becoming a gauzy barrier between your thoughts and the agony of your muscles. Staring into his eyes, their grey fractals envelop you, and you feel yourself start to push.

You must do this. You want to do this. Whatever it takes to bring your child into the world, to make Benedict a father and see his face light with a smile once more. Everything in your body rushes downward and you dig your fingers into his arms but he never wavers. You can’t help from shouting behind your gnashing teeth, keening against him. Then there is a shift, and pressure. Immense, weighted pressure builds at your center, knocking you breathless.

“The head is out!” The surgeon calls excitedly from below. 

Benedict breaks your gaze to look back at him, then turns to you with eyes full of hope. Now the end is in sight.

“One more, Mrs. Bridgerton.” The surgeon instructs. “Last one.”

You’re not sure if your lungs work anymore. Your body feels completely beyond your control. The pressure is so intense, dark spots threaten the edges of your vision and you blink to keep from swooning. Benedict must sense this, because he takes your face in both of his hands and calls to you, gently but insistently.

“My love, she is nearly here. Our baby. Just one more and we will finally hold her.” There is an urgency in his voice, a blend of concern and excitement. “You must push, my love. Not because I am asking you to, but because she is ready to join the world.”

You look up at him, your eyes glazed as you pant desperately. His own eyes are brimming with tears. He is longing for a daughter, convinced that your baby would be a girl from the very day you told him you were with child. You had insisted it would be a boy, more to toy with him than anything else, and in a moment, one of you will be proven victorious. But only if you can muster yourself for one last attempt.

The energy in the room has changed. There is a buzz of joy threatening to erupt from under the agony of your extended labor. The warmth in your chest surges. Benedict says not to push for his sake, but you are going to. It is your love for him that is the source of all your strength. You wrap your arms around his neck and lock your eyes on his once more. There, you see your past, your future, your very soul reflected back at you. You remember every glance, every kiss, every display of passion that has filled your life with such bliss over the past two years. His large hands, steady on either side of your face, burn into your skin with memories of every touch, every time your fingers brushed, or clasped, or entwined, every time you held or were held.

The warmth in your chest has grown as intense as the pressure in your hips, and you go rigid, straining your whole body to will it downward, eyes clenching shut and mouth open in a silent scream as you pour every last ounce of yourself into the effort. All you can hear is the blood in your ears, and all you can feel is the press of your husband’s hands as the rest of your body becomes nothing but pressure. You worry you may burst, or slip into the darkness at the edge of your mind.

But then there is release. The pressure gives way and everything moves and the air comes rushing back into your lungs. Everyone is talking, exclaiming, but your mind is too fuzzy to make out what they are saying. Then you hear it - a cry. Strong and loud, your baby’s cry calls you back to your senses and you open your eyes.

Above you, Benedict is weeping and he falls into you, clutching you against him as he laughs into your neck, then peppers your face with kisses. A wave of euphoria casts over you, despite the weariness of your body, and you smile, raking your fingers through his hair. Everything is moving quickly. You hear Violet praising you nearby. The baby’s cry continues somewhere in the room. 

Then a nursemaid approaches and lays a small bundle into your arms with a smile. “It is a girl.”

Benedict nearly cackles with joy. Suddenly, you are alert and aware, arms filled with all the strength they need to hold your child and never let go. Benedict nestles in beside you on the bed, lifting you to sit up in his arms. The fussy cries sound from the little blanket as you both peer in and see a round-cheeked, red little face under a shock of matted dark hair, squirming with clenched fists and scrunched eyes. Benedict reaches out and runs a slender finger through the wispy hair, and she falls quiet. Then her grey eyes open, focusing on you both and assessing you curiously. 

She is her father’s daughter, a Bridgerton through and through. Violet perches beside the bed, blinking away happy tears. You smile at her, appreciating how she was able to do this so many times, including bringing Benedict into the world. You want to repay her for such a gift, and you know that you will take Benedict’s suggestion and name your daughter after her.

You turn back to your baby, watching Benedict caress her tiny pink fingers with two of his own. You can already see that he is desperately in love, and you know that you are in for the best kind of trouble. You have never felt such happiness, such contentment, as you do in this moment. You lean into him, beaming smiles on both of your faces.

You are encapsulated in warmth, marveling at how his arms encircle and bind you all together; you, your husband, and the life you have created out of pure love. Your family, your entire world, kept safe within his hold.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @mysticwitchcraftco

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #female reader #regency #regency era #regency romance #light whump